Книга At His Service: Flirting with the Boss - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Rebecca Winters. Cтраница 6
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At His Service: Flirting with the Boss
At His Service: Flirting with the Boss
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At His Service: Flirting with the Boss

Up to now he’d only seen her in a dress or a skirt and blouse. This morning she’d put on matching khaki pants that outlined her long, shapely legs. Judging by the way the officer couldn’t take his eyes off her, he, too, was mesmerized by her femininity. There ought to be a law …

“Senora Gray?”

As she looked at him, her eye glowed green fire in a room of dark, heavy furniture. Gone were last night’s tears. Their presence had revealed unexpected vulnerabilities that squeezed his heart.

“This is Captain Perez. He wants to ask you a few questions about the accident.”

She turned her attention to the other man. “How do you, Captain.” They shook hands.

“It won’t take long, Senora. If you’d prefer to sit—”

“I’m fine.”

Remi watched him study her the way any man would when confronted by exceptional beauty. For a reason he didn’t wish to examine, it bothered him much more than it should have.

“I’m sorry your eye was injured, but I must confess I’m relieved to see you are looking so well.”

“Thank you. Senor Goyo is responsible for my quick recovery. My own family couldn’t have taken better care of me, had they been able to be here.”

The furrow deepened between Remi’s brows. Did Jillian know about her sister-in-law’s precarious condition?

“You are most fortunate, Senora. For the record, what I need from you is an account of how the accident happened.”

Remi listened as she told her version. It didn’t vary from his own except that she took full blame for it by explaining her bad judgment in trying to swerve her car.

The officer nodded and wrote a few words in his notebook. Then he lifted his head. “I understand you work for EuropaUltimate Tours. Why is it that you were alone in a rental car that day?”

“Between bus tours I do research to plan new tours for the company.”

“You were planning a tour here in Castile-La Mancha?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “In this time of drought, tourism is good for our country.”

Jillian’s gaze flicked to Remi before she said, “In my opinion this part of Spain is one of the true wonders of the world.”

While Remi felt a rush of adrenaline infiltrate his system, the captain flashed a white smile. “I will pass your sentiment along, Senora. Thank you for your time.”

“I’d like to thank you and all the people who came to my rescue so fast.”

“Let us hope your eye heals completely.”

She nodded, not allowing her smile to fade even though Dr. Filartigua had indicated that such a miracle wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll see you out, Captain.” Remi was anxious for the officer to leave before he said anything more damaging. Jillian didn’t need to dwell on the negative, and he wanted to get to the bottom of a certain comment she’d made a few moments ago.

She joined him in the foyer to see the officer out the door. When he’d gone, Remi turned to her. “You look like you slept well.”

“I did.” Her gaze took in the foyer’s accoutrements. “This is the lap of luxury for me. Breakfast brought in before I even asked for it. You’ve spoiled me.”

If he hadn’t been there when she’d broken down last evening, he could be forgiven for thinking she was invincible.

“But you still miss your brother,” he inserted. Not to mention her deceased husband, whom he tried hard not to think about at all.

“Naturally I’d love to see him, but he couldn’t come.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Dave didn’t have to say anything. With Angela this close to her delivery date, he needs to be with her. If she weren’t expecting, he would have flown over with her and the children.” Her delicately arched brows formed a frown. “Why are you so concerned about that?”

Maybe she didn’t know about the toxemia. Relieved by her explanation he said, “Probably because I haven’t had a sister to worry about before.” Just keep thinking of her in those terms, Goyo.

“She’d be a lucky woman,” Jillian whispered.

While he digested that remark she asked, “What about brothers?”

He’d known this moment would come. “I have one,” he muttered.

She looked away. “I’m sorry if my question was off-limits.”

Remi inhaled sharply. “It was a perfectly normal question.”

“But you’d prefer not to talk about him.”

“Did I say that?” he challenged.

“You didn’t have to.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “What would you like to know?”

She hunched her feminine shoulders. “Only what you’re willing to tell me.”

His guest said and did everything right. “Let’s take a walk outside before the heat becomes too intense. I have something important to discuss with you. Do you need to go back to your room first?”

“No. I’m ready.”

A woman who didn’t fuss. She was a rarity in too many disturbing ways.

He opened the door for her, unable to avoid breathing her fragrance as she moved past him to step outside. His eyes took in the exciting mold of her body before he caught up to her.

“Where are we going?” she asked without looking at him.

“If you’re up for it, I’d like to go as far as the mill house I showed you yesterday.”

“I’d love it. I’m a tour guide who’s not used to such inactivity. It’ll feel good to stretch my legs.”

Remi immediately pushed the thought of her legs away.

They walked around the side of the main house. “His name is Javier.”

“Older or younger?” she asked without missing her stride.

“Younger by thirteen months.”

They kept on going. He paced his steps so she could keep up with him.

“I take it he’s not on the estate. Where does he live?”

“That’s a good question.”

She slowed down and turned toward him with a stunned expression. “You really don’t know?”

They’d reached the shade near the old olive press. He stared down at the woman looking so intently at him with her uncovered eye. He rubbed the back of his neck absently.

“Aside from two chance encounters, I haven’t seen him since the day my wife ran off with him two years ago.”

Jillian felt like someone had just run her through with a Toledo sword, the kind tourists paid a great deal of money to possess.

How did anyone recover from such a profound betrayal?

Much as she wanted to comfort him the way he’d comforted her over the last few days, she knew he would see it as a gesture of pity. Since she despised being the object of that horrid emotion, she kept her hands and arms to herself.

“You did ask,” sounded a voice, so dark and hollow, it could have come from an underground cavern.

“That’s me,” she muttered in self-deprecation. “Fearless.”

Without waiting for him she began walking again. He followed at a short distance until they reached the barn. She wished she were alone. Right now she was bleeding all over the place and there was nowhere to hide.

“I’ve had a year longer than you to deal with my emotions, Jillian.”

That was meant to reassure her? If she’d had a sister who decided to run off with Kyle …

She swung around to face him, trying to imagine his anguish. “The difference is, up to the minute I lost my husband we were very happy, and I still have my brother w-while your bro—”

Jillian couldn’t go on. She couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of his pain. How did anyone handle that kind of hurt? Without conscious thought she moved inside the spacious barn where she attempted to recover her composure. He was pacing.

“Were you married a long time?”

He stopped. “Ten months.”

Such a short time … What woman in her right mind would leave Remi? As far as Jillian was concerned, neither his brother or his wife were worthy to breathe the same air he did.

“Were you and Javier in business together?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Si, Senora.”

In that case it wasn’t the drought problem alone. Remi had been forced to recoup his father’s losses without Javier’s help while at the same time dealing with the bitterness and heartache of losing the woman he’d married. She’d gone away with his own flesh and blood—It was too awful.

Jillian sucked in her breath, wishing she hadn’t asked him if he had brothers. The answer had torn her apart. To delve any deeper into his personal life could only bring him more grief. It was time to change the subject.

She hugged her arms to her waist. “Now that we’re out here, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

In the semidarkness she could feel his eyes scrutinizing her. “Much as I dislike the idea of doing anything other than what I know, I need to safeguard the future of the estate with another source of income.” After a pause, he said, “Needless to say it won’t be crops.” He was talking as if she weren’t there.

Jillian had already gathered that. She lifted her head and waited.

“It’s strange that on the same day my accountant again brought up the subject of my diversifying, you happened along with your request. I’ve been mulling it over in my mind ever since.” His hands slid to his back hip pockets. “Tell me something. How many people are on your tour buses at a time?”

“Twenty-eight including the driver and two tour guides.”

One dark brow quirked. “I thought they were double that size.”

“Most of them are, but our company believes a luxury tour must begin with less people to give them more one-on-one attention. A group of twenty-four, twenty-five tourists is much more manageable.”

He nodded, then looked around the interior. “This mill house, the barn and olive press house were built to last, but they’ve been standing vacant and unused for years. I’ve been thinking …”

So had she!

From the moment he’d given her the tour yesterday her mind had leaped with ideas that had prevented her from falling asleep.

“They would be perfect,” she whispered without realizing she’d spoken.

Remi folded his arms. Maybe it was a trick of light but she thought she saw his lips twitch. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

She chuckled. “Forgive me if I’m several leaps ahead of you.”

“I’d like to hear what goes on in that mind of yours during one of those leaps.”

She shook her head, embarrassed. “Please finish what you were about to say.”

Muy bien. I was going to ask a question. How many times during the summer would you anticipate one of your tour groups stopping here?”

“That would be entirely up to you. There’s such a huge call for Spanish tourism all year round, I can conceive of as many tours as you could handle.”

“Give me a number.”

“Using Madrid or Toledo as the hub, I can envision hundreds within a year.”

“That many?” He sounded surprised.

“It’s easily possible if you did four a week. EuropaUltimate is one of the biggest on the continent. Tourists want everything from a grand tour of five weeks down to an overnight excursion. The lure of visiting the Soleado Goyo olive groves would be one of those unforgettable highlights.”

“Your company has the perfect ambassador in you, Jillian.”

“Thank you.” She was inordinately pleased by the compliment. “Before we go any further, let me give you a ballpark figure of what you could make in a year with say a hundred and fifty stops. Depending on the scope of your financial goal, it should tell you if a venture like this would be worthwhile.”

She told him and then held her breath waiting for a reaction. He was quiet so long she said, “Isn’t it even close to what you’d need?”

He studied her features for a moment. “On the contrary. It would supplement things very nicely.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “But—” She’d heard one in there somewhere. He had to have many reservations.

“I’m thinking of the winter months during the harvest.”

“After what I learned from you yesterday, I factored that in. Naturally you can’t be worried about tourists at such a critical time. The figure I quoted was based on nine months, leaving out December through February.”

His intelligent eyes flashed her a glance that said he was impressed. And interested. She was jumping out of her skin with excitement. He really was considering it.

“Will you show me inside the mill house?”

“Do you read minds, too?” His unexpected question provoked a smile from her, which he returned. She was thankful for that. Minutes ago his austerely handsome face had been a study in pain. “I was about to take you inside.”

They moved in companionable silence toward the building with its attached storage shed. He opened the heavy wooden door. A heavy giant oak beam ran the length of the rectangular room. The millstones were still in place.

“Oh—This is fantastic!” Ideas were pouring into her head faster than she could contain them.

“If you’re this taken with it, then you’ll like our next stop. Come with me.”

She followed him to the other house with its unique tower and charming mullioned windows. Once inside, she marveled over the ancient olive press. It was still intact. “You’ve kept everything in such beautiful condition,” she exclaimed in a daze.

The wood flooring of these buildings and the barn had a patina built up over years of use. She touched the thick plastered walls with their beamed ceilings. They were the real thing. Combined with the influence of Moorish and Gothic architecture, her mind was flooded with flashes of El Cid and Philip of Spain.

She glanced over at him. “Any tourist privileged enough to step foot on your property will be swept back in history and never want to leave. Will you be able to handle that?”

He cocked his head. There was a mysterious look in his eyes. “Suppose we find out.”

Jillian could hardly breathe.

“I’m an olive tree farmer, not a carpenter or a tour guide. I know the exact moment to pick the olives for their oil, but I wouldn’t know where to start with these relics. You know what you need and what will work, so here’s my proposition … Why don’t you stay here and sketch out some ideas for me? Use the writing desk in your bedroom and take all the time you need.

“While I’m at work, make La Rosaleda your home. Feel free to spend time wandering around the property to come up with your plans. When you need transportation, I’ll arrange for it. On the drive to Madrid I’ll be able to give you my full attention. We’ll talk everything over then and I’ll look at your ideas. Does that meet with your approval?”

Four more days to be with him legitimately … She would take them and hug them to herself. Part of her knew she should walk away, but already she found she couldn’t.

Now that she knew his dark painful secret, she wanted to help him any way she could. It would take years for him to put a tragedy like he’d lived through behind him, but if she could bring even a modicum of peace to his mind through financial means, then she wanted to do it. She owed him.

“Thank you, Remi. I’ll take you up on your gracious invitation since I’ll need that long to do a thorough job.” Aware he’d given her too much individual time already she said, “Please don’t let me keep you from your work. I’m going to stay here for a while.”

“If you’re sure you’ll be all right.”

“I promise I won’t overdo it.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m going to hold you to that. Maria will be serving lunch at noon. You can eat by the pool or in your room.”

It didn’t sound like he’d be joining her. What did she expect for heaven’s sake? He was her boss now, not her rescuer.

“How about the kitchen? Maria and I have something in common because I enjoy cooking, too. I’d like to pick up some tricks from her. She’s a pro.”

A gorgeous smile broke from him, transforming his severe expression. It robbed her of breath. “I’ll pass on your remarks. It will delight her, especially when she already has a high opinion of you. Hasta despues, Jillian.”

He walked away. With every stride of his long, powerful legs her heart ached a little more for his suffering.

What kind of a woman would wound Remi that way? He was a man of such noble character and depth, she couldn’t imagine his wife not loving him beyond reason.

Affairs happened, but not like this …

Intuition told her that Javier had never measured up to Remi. No man could. She could imagine that in his pathetic jealousy and selfishness of his elder brother, Javier had found a soul mate in Remi’s shallow wife. Together they’d broken Godly covenants without counting the cost, but they hadn’t broken the Senor.

Through power that came from his soul, he’d risen above their perfidy. With sheer grit and determination he’d been triumphant in protecting his heritage. Betrayed in the ugliest way possible, he hadn’t let it destroy his life.

Any other man would have been lost in despair by now. She knew he carried the scars, but they hadn’t destroyed him.

Not Remi.

Her admiration for him couldn’t be measured. To think she came so close to hitting him with her car. A shudder passed through her body, not wanting to contemplate that tragedy.

After one more look around, she left the olive press house and walked outside with no particular destination in mind. Before she knew it, she found herself at the barn. The carriage beckoned her closer.

Had Remi ever ridden in it with his family?

Several years earlier one of the tour buses had stopped in Seville for the city’s famous spring festival. Jillian still had photos of those lantern-lined streets. Hundreds of black carriages passed by filled with dark-haired senoritas in colorful flamenco dresses. The men were equally gorgeous in their black, form-fitting suits and hats set at jaunty angles.

Bemused by thoughts of Remi dressed to the hilt in such thrilling masculine attire with those black eyes flashing, she climbed into the open carriage and sat back in the leather seat, not ready to let go of her daydream quite yet.

What would it be like to ride in this with him on such an occasion? She rested her head against the back and closed her eyes, but when she imagined herself sitting proudly next to him, the fantasy stopped. A blond American with one eye was bad enough, but a blonde American with one eye dressed in a flamenco outfit would be simply beyond the pale. She sat forward again, making a sound of disgust in her throat.

That’s when she heard giggling. She glanced at the open doorway and saw Soraya’s two little girls standing together watching her.

Jillian chuckled. The crazy American woman made a ridiculous sight all right. With a smile, she motioned for them to join her. “Come and sit,” she said in Spanish.

They rushed toward her needing no urging. After they’d taken the seat opposite her she leaned forward. “Which one of you is Marcia?”

The older girl looked surprise Jillian knew her name. She lifted her hand like she was in school. Jillian transferred her gaze to the younger one. “Then you must be Nina.”

“Sí.”

They were adorable. “Shall we ask the Senor to take us for a ride?”

Their eyes rounded as if the question shocked them.

“Haven’t you ever ridden in it?”

They shook their heads.

“Why not?”

Their little shoulders shrugged.

“Does the Senor have horses?”

“Sí.” This from Marcia. “He keeps them at his work.”

“Ah. Then I’ll ask him tonight. Would you like that?”

The broad smiles they gave her provided the answer. Then Marcia spoke up again. “Mama told us to get you. Lunch is ready.”

Already?

She checked her watch. She’d been out here a lot longer than she’d realized. If she wasn’t mistaken, Remi had told the women to keep a close eye on her. Jillian had to admit it was nice to be watched over. In fact she could grow to like it too much. Normally it was her job to look after other people.

“Let’s go.”

They jumped down and she followed. At the doorway to the barn she reached for their hands. She did it without thinking because they reminded her of her own family. They seemed happy about it. Together they walked back to the main house. By the time they reached the foyer she had an idea.

“Would you like to eat your lunch with me in my room?”

They nodded excitedly and ran off to ask their mother. While they were gone she hurried to the bedroom and put in her eyedrops. Before long Soraya appeared with Jillian’s tray. The girls trailed behind with their own.

“Do you mind if they eat with me?” she asked in Spanish.

“No, no. They’re very excited.”

“So am I. You have no idea how much I miss my own family.”

“Of course.”

“Would you like to eat with us, too?”

Soraya shook her head. “Not this time.” She waved goodbye to her daughters and left the room. In another minute the three of them were gathered around the yellow table. The girls chattered a mile a minute. Jillian couldn’t follow all their conversation but it didn’t matter. Their presence was very comforting.

She found herself wondering who provided the balm to the Senor’s troubled soul, but thinking about him got her into trouble. In a deliberate attempt to concentrate on something else, she got up from the table and went over to her suitcase.

Her clothes had been put away, but she’d left the gifts for the children inside it. Since she wasn’t going to be seeing them for a while, she decided to give them to Marcia and Nina.

Removing the adaptor from her laptop, she plugged it into the little portable CD player she’d bought for them. She’d purchased several CDs in Spanish. One of them was a cartoon. Since Dave’s children loved the English version so much and had it memorized, she knew they’d get a kick out of it.

The girls grew silent as she plugged it into the wall socket and placed it on the table. Once she turned it on, the girls became so engrossed in the charming story they forgot to eat. When their mother came to get them, they begged to stay long enough to finish it.

“I’ll send them out when it’s over,” Jillian promised her. “In the meantime let me help take everything back to the kitchen.” But Soraya insisted on doing it.

Too soon the movie was over. The girls didn’t want to leave. However, they were too well-behaved to argue with their mother. Jillian sent the player and the other CDs with them, and invited them to eat lunch with her by the pool tomorrow. Since they didn’t have school right now, she would love their company. They could swim while she cooled off in the water without getting her head wet.

Squeals of delight from the girls settled the matter. With a heartfelt thank-you, Soraya ushered her children out of the room.

To Jillian’s surprise she felt sleepy. Although the temperature was pleasant inside the casa, she decided that being out in the heat had gotten to her. A little nap wouldn’t hurt.

After she awoke, she worked on some ideas, then walked through the house to the kitchen for dinner. Since the men were working late, the three women and the girls gathered for the evening meal. Still later she went back to her room to e-mail Dave and Angela.

She was on the verge of sending it when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was the girls, she told them to come in.

Buenas tardes, Jillian.”

“Remi …” She started to get up, but he told her stay put.

Why was it that every time she saw him after separation, her heart fluttered.

He lounged in the entry with his broad shoulder resting against the doorjamb. Patches of sweat had moistened his shirt. Obviously he’d just come in from a hard day’s work. She could see the darker shadow on his jaw. As far as she was concerned, he’d never looked more attractive.

“I understand you’d like to go on a carriage ride.” Jillian shouldn’t have been surprised word traveled so fast. “Will tomorrow evening be soon enough for you?”

“Only if it won’t be an inconvenience.”

Remi straightened to his full height. “I could use the distraction.” His comment was a reminder of the torturous memories he continually had to suppress in order to survive. “I’ll see you and the girls in the courtyard at seven.” On that note he disappeared. She stared at the closed door wondering how she was going to make it through the next twenty-four hours.