Minding Her Boss's Business. Janice Maynard

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      Maria slept poorly and woke early. Her dreams had been a jumble of Alma and Miami and Alex. Gabriel hadn’t figured in those sequences at all. Which was really no surprise. Because as handsome and charismatic as the second-born Montero was, he didn’t make her heart beat faster.

      He amused her. He made her laugh. And she liked him a lot.

      But he wasn’t Alex.

      After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, it became clear she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. Climbing out of bed, she slipped into her swimsuit, brushed her teeth and twisted her hair into a messy knot on top of her head. This was her best chance to get in some sunbathing before the sun became blistering.

      Draped from neck to midcalf in a conservative cover-up made of ecru lace, she made her way downstairs. Miami might have different standards, but Maria was a citizen of Alma and as such, subject to a certain code of dress and conduct. She would never do anything to embarrass the delegation.

      Other than the occasional hotel employee, she met no one. These early-morning hours were ones she enjoyed. Filled with the promise of a new day. Peaceful.

      Only when she stepped outside into the heat and humidity did things change. Not because of the weather. But because she ran headlong into a hard male body.

      Catching herself and grabbing for her tote, which threatened to spill everywhere, she looked up in consternation. “Alex.”

      He wore a gray T-shirt and navy running shorts. With some alarm, she realized that she had never seen his legs bare. If that weren’t enough to make her gawk and stutter, she also had to take note of his broad chest and the dark patterns where sweat marked his shirt.

      “Hello, Maria. You’re up early.”

      He spoke calmly, as though their last encounter hadn’t ended acrimoniously.

      She nodded. “I burn easily. I thought it might be nice to spend time at the beach now. I won’t be late for our meeting.”

      He cocked his head. “Am I such an ogre?”

      The teasing glint in his eyes made her stomach clench with feelings that were definitely not professional. “Of course not.”

      “Good.”

      They both stood there waiting for the other to speak.

      “You’ve been running,” she said, as if it weren’t obvious.

      “Yes.” When he removed his aviator sunglasses, his gaze was stormy. “It’s a stress reliever.”

      “You have a lot on your plate.”

      “The Montoros aren’t the only problem I’m juggling at the moment.”

      “What else is there?” She was genuinely curious.

      “This and that.” The words were flat. Without inflection. But the dark-eyed gaze held an intensity that made her nipples bead beneath two layers of fabric.

      She swallowed hard. “I won’t keep you then.”

      He took a step in her direction but stopped short. “I’d better hit the shower,” he muttered. “I’m having breakfast with Rafael Montero.”

      “Father or son?”

      “Father. He’s one generation closer to the past. I’m hoping he’ll help us sway the younger ones.”

      “He may be bitter about his own missed opportunity.”

      “Somehow, I doubt it. He seems to have a very casual approach to life.”

      “You sound as if you don’t approve.”

      Alex shrugged, the fabric of his T-shirt clinging to a broad, muscular chest. “I’m not sure how the American personality will translate in Alma. The older people still remember days of pomp and circumstance. A laid-back monarchy may be hard to swallow.”

      “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

      “No.” He grimaced. “But it’s the assignment we’ve been given. If we’re in pursuit of the ‘good old days,’ then the monarchy is necessary for our people to feel as if life has finally returned to normal.”

      “Better the devil you know?”

      Alex СКАЧАТЬ