At His Service: Flirting with the Boss

Everything had been decided, except that she hadn’t been let in on Remi’s plans yet. In his gut he knew she’d say no, but he was already prepared for her response. If there was one thing he was good at, it was negotiation—an art that had pulled the family business on solid footing again no thanks to his brother.

Two years ago all had looked hopeless, but something inside hadn’t let him give up. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t let her give up, either, no matter the prognosis.

Forty-five minutes later he entered her hospital room to find her bed empty. Either she was in the bathroom, or down the hall getting some exercise.

Three more flower arrangements guaranteed to cheer her up had been wheeled into the room on a small cart; one of pink carnations, the other two a mix of wildflowers. Any more furniture in the room would make it impossible for the nursing staff to maneuver.

He lowered the suitcase to the floor next to the wall. After putting her purse on the side table, he sat down in the only chair and began munching on his steak sandwich while he waited for her to appear.

A few more seconds and the bathroom door opened. When she saw him, she let out a squeal and held the back of her gown together, the epitome of the modest female.

He struggled not to smile. “I’ve closed my eyes. Let me know when I can open them again.”

Her bare feet made a padding sound as she hurried past him. He heard the sound of her raising the head of the bed with the remote. Then came the rustle of the sheet. “You can look now.”

When he dared, he noticed she’d already reached for her purse and was brushing her hair. It splayed about her neck and shoulders in a silky swirl.

“Thank you for bringing me my things. Throughout this whole experience you’ve gone way beyond the call of duty and I’ll be eternally grateful. But now that I have my belongings back, I want you to leave. If you try to do anything more for me, then I’ll start to feel uncomfortable.”

He’d known what she was going to say before she said it, so he deliberately finished off the rest of his sandwich before speaking again.

“I thought you wanted your laptop. If you’ll allow me, I’ll open your suitcase and set it up for you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

“The doctor cautioned you’re not supposed to bend over yet. The sudden blood flow to your head might disturb your wound.”

“I—I didn’t know that,” she stammered. “He should have instructed me.”

“He assumed I would tell you.”

After a moment she said, “When the nurse comes in again, I’ll ask her to do it.”

Remi could only see her one eye. Between darkly fringed lashes it shimmered a green hue like new shoots of spring grass. Combined with the gleam of her golden hair, he discovered her coloring was like the velvety gold liquid with its glints of green found in a prized bottle of Goyo’s extra fine virgin olive oil—one of the most beautiful sights in the world to him when held up to the light.

He lifted a dark brow. “Why bother her with a nonmedical request when she’s been run off her feet bringing you flowers from all your admirers.”

She fidgeted with the sheet. “They’re from my brother and the people at work.”

“I’m sure you’re sorely missed.” He rose to his feet. “Since I’m here, why not let me help?”

She looked away quickly. “All right,” she said in a tentative voice. “Thank you, but then you have to go.”

Remi let that comment pass and reached for her suitcase. He put it on the chair. “What’s the code on the lock?”

“K F G.”

Her husband’s initials?

He opened it with no problem. Beneath the padding of several layers of filmy lingergie he found her laptop nestled among her clothes. The adaptor was already attached to the cord. All he had to do was insert it in the Internet outlet on the wall behind her bed.

“There you are.” He placed it on her lap, inadvertently brushing her arm in the process. The touch of her soft, smooth skin shouldn’t have fazed him, but to his chagrin he felt her warmth long after he’d straightened away from her bed. That hadn’t happened for several years. He hadn’t thought it possible to respond to a woman’s touch ever again.

Out of the periphery he watched for her to lift the lid, but she made no such move. Clearly she wanted him out of her room and her life, but he had no intention of going anywhere.

Instead he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Fermin, who ran the bottling plant on the estate. Today the weekly shipment to England needed to be loaded onto the trucks. Remi normally checked every case that went out, but today Fermin would have to be relied on to do it without him.

In order to start making a profit, Remi had long ago pared down the staff to the hardest workers who remained loyal to him. Judging by Luis’s figures, Remi’s efforts had paid off and everything was going well, even better than expected.

After planting himself in the chair, which he purposely turned the other way to avoid the frustrated looks Senora Gray kept sending him, he immersed himself in conversation with the older man who knew the business like the inside of his pocket. They discussed rehiring Jorge Diaz.

The younger man had been wanting to come back to Goyo’s on a permanent basis for some time now. Remi conceded that Jorge had always been a good worker, even if he’d been caught between conflicting loyalties for a time. When he and Fermin finally concluded business, Remi promised he’d think about it.

On a final note he told Fermin he would find a sizable bonus in his next paycheck for sticking with him over the last two difficult years. It would be the first of many such installments for his unfailing devotion to Remi and the business.

The older man got all choked up before they said goodbye.

Without pausing for breath Remi phoned the company that had done the wiring for the Internet on the estate. He wanted someone sent out as soon as possible to put an outlet in the master bedroom of the main house.

When an arrangement was made for the next day, a pleased Remi thanked the man before phoning Maria to tell her about it. He was curious to know how things were shaping up at the main house. She assured him their guest would want for nothing. While she commiserated over the Senora’s eye injury, the nurse came in the room to put in more drops and take her vital signs.

Remi walked out to the hall to give them privacy.

As long as he still had Maria on the line, he cautioned her against saying anything about the injury to Senora Gray. The American woman didn’t like being reminded of it. The less said, the better. Maria assured him she’d be the soul of discretion.

Once he’d rung off, he saw orderlies down the hall bringing dinners from the kitchen. Surprised at the lateness of the hour, he realized the day had gotten away from him without his being aware of it. Before one of the men could enter Jillian’s room, Remi said he’d take it in to her.

Pulling some bills from his wallet he asked if another dinner could be sent up for him. One small sandwich hadn’t been enough. He was still hungry.

The younger man refused the money, but told Remi to wait and he’d be right back with another dinner for him.

Excellent.

Remi stood outside the door enjoying the idea of fencing with her—that age-old Castilian dance usually involving two men at home with a sword made of the hardest Toledo steel.

Though she wielded her own feminine weapon very well and knew some fancy footwork that made her a worthy opponent, she’d never come up against a Goyo before. Senora Gray was about to be taught some moves still unknown to her.

Once the nurse had gone, Jillian sent a few e-mails to her boss, Pia, and a few coworkers thanking them for the flowers, but for some odd reason she didn’t feel like digging in to real work after all. At the moment she wasn’t capable of much more than twiddling her thumbs.

It appeared Senor Goyo had decided to obey her request and leave the hospital. She’d hoped he would go, but now that she was alone, she had to admit she missed his electrifying presence, the only words to describe his effect on her.

The degree of the Spaniard’s male beauty was off the charts and she’d only been taking in his striking attributes out of one eye. What would happen if she could see him full vision?

Place a suit of armor made from the finest Toledo steel on his hard-muscled body and he could be one of those incredible-looking conquistadors sweeping across the New World with Cortez. Come to think of it, didn’t the gorgeous Pedro in Captain from Castile go by the name “de Vargas”?’ One of Senor Goyo’s ancestors perhaps?

She was being foolish with all her fantasies, but deep down she recognized this important man was someone unforgettable. A man in his thirties was normally married with children. Jillian would love to know his history, but she’d caught a glimpse of his dark side earlier and didn’t feel brave enough to trespass. She didn’t have the right, not when she owed him so much.

Restless, she turned on her side, careful not to let the laptop slip to the floor. The last thing she needed was time on her hands. It made her think, and when she started to think, she began to feel sorry for herself. That would never do.

She turned on her back again and opened the laptop to play solitaire. She hadn’t been driven to do this for a long time. While she tested herself to see how fast she could move the aces and kings into position, the door opened.

When she looked up, her breath caught to see the object of her musings walk inside. He’d come bearing more gifts. The aroma of roast beef permeated the hospital room. She’d thought she wasn’t hungry, but his stimulating presence piqued her appetite.

Earlier she’d noticed that he’d found time to shower and shave. A navy sports shirt and white khakis molded his powerful chest and thighs. She decided she liked him better in modern clothing. Silver armor would have covered up that well-defined physique.

There she went again marveling over his considerable male charms. Secretly excited he’d returned to her room, she was confused, stunned by her reaction to him.

Just last week she’d turned down yet another guy for dinner. One of her friends at work had warned her the day would come when she’d want to start living again. Jillian had shaken her head. She wasn’t interested. No man would ever compare to Kyle.

But that was before she’d had the accident. When she’d least expected it, a stranger had come along to rescue her. She’d been whisked away to a hospital by a man from La Mancha.

Helpless to do otherwise, she stole another glance at him. That’s when the realization hit.

No man could compare to the Senor, either.

The revelation shocked her into silence, but he took no notice. After removing her laptop he rolled the table across her body. “Your dinner, Senora.” He lifted the cover off the dinner plate. “I believe it’s edible.”

Without looking at him she muttered, “You mean you’re not sure?”

“Are you asking me to test it first?” he countered. “I had no idea that inside your deceptive shell beats the heart of Cleopatra.”

Until she’d sensed an edge to his tone, she’d thought he was being playful.

What an odd thing to say. In what way did she look deceptive?

Without waiting for her answer he picked up one of the forks and ate a piece of her meat. After letting it digest he said, “It will do. However, we’ll give it five minutes just to make sure.”

“Don’t be silly.” She grabbed the other fork. After cutting herself a bite of roast beef, she quickly finished it off.

His black eyes glittered. “You live dangerously, don’t you, Senora.”

Jillian’s coworkers had made comments of that nature before. When Kyle had first met her, he’d called her fearless. They’d all said it in a teasing manner, but coming from this man’s lips made it feel like a criticism.

“Perhaps you say that because you see a lot of yourself in me, Senor,” she ventured boldly.

Between dark lashes his eyes gleamed with a strange light. “Touché.”

While he took his plate and sat down in the chair to eat, she felt caught up in emotions foreign to her experience up to now. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

“Play a lot of solitaire, do you?” came the innocent sounding question.

She stopped munching on her roll. Nothing got past his all-seeing gaze. “I presume you turn to darts when you find yourself at a loose end.”

He flashed her a wicked smile. “Knives are more my style.”

“I was going to say that,” she assured him without batting an eye, “but at the last second I chose not to presume in case I irritated your sensibilities.”

A bark of laughter escaped his tanned throat. “I thought you decided I didn’t have any.”

“You have to have some, otherwise you wouldn’t have been the angel who made it possible for me to recover this quickly. Which brings me to what I wanted to say earlier.”

To her frustration he kept eating as if he had little interest in the conversation.

“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t require your help any longer and would like to repay you.”

“You sound like your brother.”

Exasperated, she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I mean it, Senor.”

“Remi. That’s the third time I’ve had to remind you.”

She was very much aware of that fact, but calling him by his first name put them on a more intimate footing. After tonight Jillian didn’t plan to see him again. Though she felt a sense of deprivation just thinking about it, she had to draw the line somewhere.

“I’m aware you won’t let me give you money, so the only thing I can do is release you from your promise to my brother. The truth is, I’d like to be alone tonight and know you would, too.”

In a lightning move he got up and put his empty plate on the tray. His enigmatic gaze sought hers. “For a woman I only met yesterday, you claim to know a great deal about me.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve eaten your olive oil. After seeing those groves I realize you’re a man with great responsibilities, Remi.”

“At last you say my name,” he drawled with satisfaction.

Jillian averted her eyes. “I’d be a lot happier if you gave up the vigil and left me to my own devices. You’re always on the phone and need to get on with your life. So do I,” she finished, her voice throbbing.

“Surely not tonight.”

She had no answer for that.

When he placed his bronzed hands on the edge of the table, she noted inconsequently there was no white wedding ring mark on his third finger. Had he ever worn one? The action brought him closer to her body. She caught the faint fragrance of the soap he’d used in the shower, creating more havoc with her senses.

“You look tired. Why don’t we continue this conversation tomorrow before you’re discharged? I presume there are other people anxious to receive an e-mail from you this evening. Since you pointed out I have many things to attend to,” he mocked, “I’ll say good-night now and see you after we’ve both had some sleep.

“If you need me for any reason, phone the Casa Cervantes here in Madrid. It’s not that far from the hospital. They’ll put your call through to me. Buenas noches, Jillian.”

On his way out the door he wheeled the cot into the hall with him, ostensibly to make more space in her room.

“Buenas noches,” she whispered to his retreating back, experiencing more disappointment because he’d never had any intention of spending another night with her.

CHAPTER THREE

DR. FILARTIGUA refastened the tape. “You’re coming along fine, Senora. The drops will help the irritation you’re starting to feel, but it should only last a day or two. I’ll sign the discharge papers and send the nurse to wheel you out to the exit. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Only one,” she murmured quietly, “but I know I have to wait for the answer.”

“You’re being very brave. Keep it up and don’t forget—my receptionist has put you down for eleven o’clock next Thursday in my office. It’s on the ground floor of the building across from the main entrance to the hospital.”

“I’ll be there. Thank you for everything, Doctor.”

He nodded. “The nurse will give you printed instructions with my phone number. Call me anytime if you have a problem.” After patting her arm, he left the room.

Jillian was glad he’d made his rounds early so she could leave before the Senor made his appearance. Her bag was packed. She’d dressed in her favorite uncrushable yellow shirtwaist dress with the capped sleeves. With her eye and part of her face covered by tape, there was little point bothering with makeup except for lipstick.

While she waited for the nurse, she went in the bathroom to brush her hair, leaving it to fall naturally in a side parting. The dry shampoo seemed to have done its job, but she missed the fragrance from her own strawberry-scented shampoo.

Much as she wanted to take all the flowers with her, it would be too much trouble to load and unload them at the hotel. She would keep the Senor’s roses and leave the rest for patients in the hospital who would appreciate them the most.

“Oh—” she cried, almost colliding with Remi as she left the bathroom with her purse. He steadied her with both strong hands on her upper arms. His fiery black eyes swept over her with such intensity, she could hardly breathe.

“Apparently you’re in a hurry to leave,” he said in a deep, husky tone. “I don’t blame you.”

She felt the warmth of his breath on her lips. The sensation brought her close to a faint and she eased out of his hold. “I—I’ve been discharged,” she explained, her voice faltering.

“I know.”

Of course he did.

He’d come to her room looking incredibly appealing in a tan sport shirt and cream-colored chinos. Behind him she saw the nurse come in pushing a wheelchair. “Time to go, Senora Gray. Are you ready?”

“Yes, but I need to call for a taxi first.”

“It’s already been taken care of. Sit down, por favor.”

Jillian saw Remi put his booted foot behind one of the wheels so it wouldn’t move on her. At this juncture she had no choice but to do the older woman’s bidding.

“The flowers—”

“I’ll load them,” he said near her ear, sending a shockwave through her trembling body.

“Leave the flowers from my coworkers for the nurse to give to some other patients, will you please?”

“If that’s your wish.”

“It is.”

The next thing she knew the nurse was wheeling her from the room. Like a dutiful new father, Remi followed with her suitcase in one hand and the flowers in his other arm, but there was no baby. She felt a fraud.

On their trip through the halls and down the elevator, every female in the hospital within their radius devoured Remi with her eyes. No matter what Jillian had to do, she made a mental note to squelch the urge to look at him in the same way.

A black sedan bearing the same crest she’d seen on the gate of the estate stood parked outside the automatic doors. It came as no surprise she had her own private taxi service offered by none other than the most outrageously attractive male on the planet.

Jillian could make that statement with the greatest of authority.

For the last six years she’d been around hundreds of striking men from almost every country who’d been on tours across Europe. Yet unlike the majority of them, Remi seemed oblivious to the interest he created among women and men alike.

She had a hunch he’d been born with other things on his mind than himself, a quality she rated right at the top of a man’s most desirable qualities.

After he’d assisted her into the front passenger seat, the nurse handed her a sack containing her drops and a printout of instructions.

“Good luck, Senora. Vaya con dios.”

“Gracias, Senora.”

The woman shut the door. When Jillian turned her head, she watched Remi put the two bouquets on the floor of the backseat, then shut the door. After a chat with the nurse he joined Jillian in front, filling the atmosphere with his own intoxicating male scent mixed with the smell of leather.

As soon as he turned on the ignition she said, “I have reservations at the Prado Inn.”

The powerful engine made a low purring sound. “Your room won’t be ready until this afternoon.”

“I know. I’m planning to work at a table in the bar of the hotel while I wait.”

“Work is the great panacea, verdad?” The way he’d spoken let her know he was no stranger to it.

With a change of gear he drove out to the tree-lined street, maneuvering them through the heavy morning traffic with practiced ease. It already promised to be a hot, sunny day as they made their way to the other side of the colorful city without talking. Between the profusion of flowers and playing fountains, Madrid had a beauty all its own.

Strange that with only one eye to see through, every sense seemed to be enhanced. The sky looked bluer, food tasted better, the roses smelled sweeter, a man’s deep voice penetrated to her insides, a man’s touch sent her blood surging.

Jillian could thank the disturbing male at the wheel for this meteoric thrust back into the life she’d thought was over when Kyle never came home again.

Oh, darling … It should be you making me feel this way.

Before she realized it Remi pulled the car into the first empty parking space at the side of the street. After shutting off the motor he turned to her, his bronzed arm outstretched along the top of the seat. Leaning closer, he wiped the salty tears off her chin with his finger. “How can I help, Jillian?”

With those words she realized he thought she’d broken down because of her eye injury. The pathos in his tone moved her in ways she didn’t know were possible. She sniffed and raised her head to look out at one of the many gardens bordering the sidewalks.

“You’ve done everything humanly possible. I’m very grateful,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Grateful enough to tell me what’s really going on inside?” His deep timbre resonated to her bones.

She struggled for composure. For her own emotional sanity it would be better never to see him again. Because he felt partially guilty for the accident, he’d been her Good Samaritan, but she had no reason to read any more into it.

It wasn’t his fault he made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, wasn’t ready to feel. That’s what was really going on.

Forcing a gentle laugh she said, “Don’t mind me, Remi. Every so often I have a day or two where I get emotional for no particular reason.”

His arm remained in place behind her, catching the ends of her hair.

“Is that why you were on your own day before yesterday?”

“Yes …” She grabbed at the first excuse he’d supplied.

“It wouldn’t have been because you’d wanted to meet with me specifically?”

Her heart picked up speed. She jerked her head around to look at him, freeing those golden strands that had been pressed against his skin, with its smattering of black hairs. Being in such close proximity to him, she felt like every sense had been magnified to the hundredth power.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because I questioned the worker you talked to. He happened to be Diego, one of my assistants.”

Jillian clutched her purse in reaction. She might have known.

“He said you asked questions about the owner and he told you to call and make an appointment with me. When he told me what time you’d stopped to talk to him, I realized you couldn’t have been on the road ten minutes before the accident.”

“That’s true,” she whispered.

Silence ensued before he said, “Why did you want to see me? Obviously you had a particular reason in mind, otherwise you’d have been off somewhere on a tour bus for the day.”