Katherine Garbera - The Montoros Dynasty

“I’m not insinuating anything,” he said. “But I saw the way he looked at you.”

“The man would flirt with a block of wood. I get that. But I certainly don’t need you or anyone else to protect me from the big bad wolf.”

“You’re angry.”

“Damn straight, I’m angry.” Her eyes snapped with the force of her displeasure. “I was invited to be part of this delegation, and I accepted. I’m here to do a job and to do it to the best of my ability. This assignment means as much to me as it does to you. So I’ll thank you to keep your advice to yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.

Her posture erect, she gave him a stony stare. “Am I off the clock now, Mr. Ramon? May I go to my room?”

“Don’t push me, Maria,” he said, his teeth clenched. “It’s been a long day, and the ones to come won’t be much better.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist in a defensive posture. “Maybe it would be best if we avoid each other when we don’t have to be working together.”

“If that’s what you want.” How had they gone from dancing to dismay so quickly?

For a brief moment he saw sadness in her gaze. His gut twisted with the sure knowledge that he had put it there.

Her bearing and her expression were dignified. “I’ll see you at ten tomorrow,” she said.

As he watched her walk away from him, his enjoyment in the evening went flat. He tracked her progress as she spoke to various members of the delegation and said her good-nights. The Montoros were next. Both of the Rafaels. Bella. And of course, Gabriel.

As Alex watched, Gabriel leaned down and whispered something in Maria’s ear. Whatever it was, it made her laugh.

Seeing her face light up reminded Alex of how hard she worked. In Alma, he’d never had any problem with their professional relationship. But something about Miami’s heat and hedonistic ways blurred the lines between business and pleasure.

Maria was right. Part of her job was to deal with Gabriel Montoro so that he didn’t embarrass his family and/or derail the plans to reinstate the monarchy.

Alex understood her priorities. But he didn’t have to like them.

* * *

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 chuckled, his face lightening. “Something like that. I’d better get moving. See you at ten.”

As he walked away, Maria allowed herself to track his progress. He moved with a rangy masculine gait that encompassed determination and impatience. She wondered if he ever truly relaxed.

Down on the sand, she selected a lounger and spread her towel. At this hour, the sun worshippers were few and far between. A handful of joggers. Several people walking their dogs.

She had just picked up her paperback novel when a shadow fell over her left arm. Shading her eyes with one hand, she looked up. “Gabriel. What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have pegged you for an early riser.”

He waited for her to move her legs to one side and then settled on the end of the chaise. “I’m not,” he said, yawning. “Just now going to bed.”

“Ah.”

He shook his head with a wry grin. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I have a weekly poker game with some buddies.”

“Did you win?”

“I always win.”

Despite his reputation, she couldn’t help liking the black sheep Montoro. He seemed very comfortable in his own skin, and that was a trait she admired. “Where do you live?” she asked.

“I have a condo here on the beach. But our family has a compound at Coral Gables. You should let me take you there. It’s quite fabulous. You’d like it, I think...”

“I’m here to work,” she said, smiling to soften the blow. “But thank you.”

“If it’s your stick-up-his-butt boss you’re worried about, I’ll invite him along, as well.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Alex is a wonderful man. And he cares deeply about his country. I admire him very much.”

“Does he know about your...devotion?”