Minding Her Boss's Business

by Janice Maynard

  By the time they dried off, he had convinced himself not to pounce on her. While he and Maria had walked the beach earlier, housekeeping had been in to service the room. The bed looked inviting, the covers pristine.

  Maria, with the towel wrapped sarong-style around her torso, cocked her head. “Almost seems a shame to mess it up.”

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked, his hands fisting at his sides.

  She pointed. At the foot of the bed stood a narrow cushioned bench. Instantly, he saw the possibilities. “I like the way you think.” He dragged it away from the footboard and tested the springiness of the navy padding with two fingers. “Bottom or top?” he asked with a straight face.

  Maria turned cherry red from the edge of the towel to her hairline. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

  It was so much fun to tease her. She did her best to be nonchalant about what they were doing, but that shy reserve was never far below the surface. He ditched his towel and stretched out on his back, his feet on the floor. The height was perfect. His arousal was out in the open, his shaft full and heavy as it bobbed against his abdomen.

  He held out a hand. “Come and get me,” he said.

  She kept a death grip on the towel, though she did walk a few steps in his direction. Her attention focused on his eager sex, but her expression was hard to read.

  “I may have been too hasty. I like having covers to hide beneath.”

  “You’re exquisite,” he answered, dead serious. “It would be a crime to cover that gorgeous body. Drop the towel, sweetheart.”

  For a moment he thought she was going to refuse. But gradually, she unclenched her fingers and lifted her arms until the large, damp rectangle fell to her feet.

  Alex sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the last bit of blood in his head rush south. “I’m cold. Come warm me up.”

  At last, a small smile. “You’re never cold. And besides, I’m not exactly sure how to go about this.”

  “I’ll help. It’s like riding a bike. You never really forget.”

  “You’re a riot,” she said, biting her lip.

  In the end, she started at his knees, straddling him with ladylike grace and walking up his body until his erection and her soft, damp sex were aligned. He grabbed her hips. “See...that wasn’t so difficult.”

  Leaning forward, she put her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself onto him. They both made a noise halfway between a curse and a sigh. Her silky wet hair fell around them. He was conditioned by now to the smell of her shampoo. It made him want to gobble her up.

  He didn’t move for a few moments, giving her a chance to adjust to this new position. “You okay?” he asked. Her silence always bothered him. He never knew what she was thinking.

  Maria did a little bump and grind with her hips that made him catch his breath. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “You tell me.”

  Twelve

  Maria had taken a gymnastics class in college to satisfy a PE requirement. Nothing she learned during that semester prepared her for this current experience. Technically, she was in the dominant position. But in reality, Alex called the shots.

  She had no objection to that at all. For one thing, she didn’t have the sexual confidence yet to orchestrate their coupling. And for another, he was so damned good at sex. Feeling like a rank novice, she squeezed her inner muscles. When he gasped, she smiled.

  “I like having you at my mercy,” she said, her words little more than a whisper. She kissed him teasingly, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth. His response was to thrust upward...hard.

  His hands tangled in her hair, anchoring her head so he could drag her mouth to his and hold her captive. In between kisses, his ragged, breathless praise seduced her. “You wanted to be an erotic goddess, right?”

  She barely had the oxygen to answer. “Not really. That was just me being silly.”

  “Too bad,” he groaned. “’Cause you’re already there. Sit up,” he said urgently.

  When she did as he asked, the feel of him inside her was indescribable. Now she could see his face. His cheekbones were ruddy with color, his thick, inky-black hair mussed. He stared at her in return, capturing her attention with nothing more than the hungry look in his eyes.

  “Lean back,” he demanded. “Put your hands behind you on my thighs.”

  She obeyed, feeling intensely vulnerable and wildly excited at the same time. He cupped her breasts in his hands, teasing her nipples with his thumbs until the pink rosebuds puckered tightly.

  Unable to bear the intense tableau, she closed her eyes.

  “Look at me, Maria.” The note of authority brooked no opposition. “Do you like what I’m doing to you?”

  She tried to swallow. But her throat was dry. “Yes.”

  He plucked at her sensitive flesh, sending dual arrows of fire arcing to the spot where their bodies were joined. “Alex...” Her sharp cry echoed in the silent room.

  His laugh encompassed masculine triumph and sexual intent. “Don’t close your eyes. Keep watching.”

  He found her pleasure center and stroked the tiny bud carefully. When she jerked away instinctively his hands clamped on her hips. “Ride me, Maria. Make me come. I dare you.”

  The game was on, but she was so lost to reason she barely had the presence of mind to understand what he was saying. Bracing her feet, she pushed off from the floor, and came down hard. Her climax hit with the force of a tidal wave, tumbling her in a maelstrom of confusion and sharp physical pleasure.

  Alex went wild beneath her, ramming into her repeatedly, then shouting as he exploded inside her, filling her with his release.

  She slumped on top of him, her heart beating loudly in her ears. Beneath her cheek, his chest was damp and his heart sounded as if it might leap out of his body.

  “Are you good at everything?” she muttered, still half dazed.

  Long seconds passed when she wondered if he was going to answer. Finally, he stroked her back, his words gruff. “It’s you, Maria. You inspire me.”

  Afterward, she was never sure how long they lay there recovering. But her butt was chilled and her legs ached by the time Alex finally stirred. “Sleep,” he said groggily. “We have to sleep.”

  They stumbled into the bathroom for a quick, strictly platonic shower. Then, with a nod to brushing teeth and a halfhearted attempt by the both of them to tame her hair, they finally gave up and went to bed. The sheets were cool and crisp and heavenly soft.

  Alex wrapped an arm around her and tucked her against his side. She thought he was already asleep, so it startled her when he whispered something in her hair.

  “I want to keep seeing you when we go home,” he said.

  She froze, resenting him for introducing conflict in the midst of their wonderful aftermath. “You’ll see me every day,” she said. “We work in the same office.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  “Don’t ruin what we have,” she pleaded. “We can talk about it later.”

  * * *

  Alex felt the rejection and marveled that something could be so painful. Was this all a game to Maria? Was he entertaining her while she waited for her chance with Gabriel? Had the little girl who wanted to grow up to be a Disney princess suddenly realized she had a shot at the real thing?

  He didn’t want to believe it. But he had no idea what it meant to come from nothing, to struggle financially, to feel the constant ache of uncertainty in every aspect of life. How could he fault her for seeking out financial security and a fairy-tale ending?

  Or maybe it was Gabriel. Maybe Gabriel was pursuing her so convincingly that she had to consider what it might mean to be a princess in real life. Alex had money to burn, but he was never going to be a prince. And because of the delicate state of the negotiations, he couldn
’t stand in the way if Gabriel wanted Maria.

  She seemed naive sexually, as if there had been no more than one or two men before him. He didn’t think she could fake the satisfaction he had given her. But why else would she hold him off if it weren’t for the fact that she had plans to continue a relationship with Gabriel Montoro?

  Unless, of course, she was worried about what might happen when she and Alex returned to Alma. Back home, their relationship had been circumspect and businesslike. Maybe Maria didn’t want to juggle the inevitable gossip that would ensue if they returned to Alma as an official couple. He could appreciate her reservations even if he thought they were unfounded.

  Despite his unsettled thoughts, exhaustion claimed him at last. But his dreams were fractured and troubled and kept him on the run all night.

  * * *

  Maria was sleeping like the dead when Alex’s cell phone woke them at seven the next morning. He rolled over and groaned, picking it up to look at the number. Clearing his throat, he punched the button. “Ramon here...” He listened intently. “Yes, of course. Thanks for calling.”

  Maria sat up, clutching the top sheet to her breasts. She raked her hair from her forehead. “Who was it?”

  He rotated his head as if trying to shake off the remnants of too little sleep and too many bad dreams. “It was Rafael Montoro—father, not son. Isabella Salazar has been admitted to the hospital. He wanted me to know, because it may affect our plans to formally offer the proposal to the family this week.”

  She touched his arm. “Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

  He avoided her attempt to comfort him and climbed out of bed. “I think I should go to the hospital. As a show of support.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Her gaze searched his face.

  “Suit yourself,” he said. His tone was curt.

  The laughing, playful, sexy lover of last night had disappeared. Was it because he was stressed about this turn of events? Or had she angered him by refusing to talk about their relationship beyond this room?

  She didn’t have the nerve to join him in the bathroom. So she gathered her things and waited until he was finished to take her turn. “I’ll be very quick,” she said.

  He nodded without looking at her. “I’ll wait.”

  As she quickly ran through her morning routine, she wondered if she had hurt his pride. It was too soon for his heart to be involved. But perhaps he was offended that she hadn’t jumped at his offer to continue their sexual adventures, even back in Alma.

  She would have liked to return to her own room for fresh clothing, but she was pretty sure Alex wouldn’t linger. Not in the mood he was in. So she put on the same skirt and sleeveless silk top and examined it in the mirror. Not too bad.

  Alex had used the time she was in the bathroom to order toast and coffee and request a car. They ate in fifteen minutes and headed downstairs to the lobby. Although she tried twice to engage him in conversation, Alex was stone-faced.

  The hospital in Coral Gables was brand-new and extremely high-tech from top to bottom. Isabella’s condition required intensive care, so the family was gathered in the adjacent waiting room. While Rafael III conversed with Alex, Maria sat with Isabella’s grandson and the nieces and nephews.

  Juan Carlos was the one Maria knew the least. His face was pale, his posture tense. “I’m sorry about your grandmother,” she said.

  The young man inclined his head. “Thank you, Ms. Ferro.”

  His manner was formal but polite. Suddenly, his facade cracked as he glared at Rafe. “It’s your fault, damn it. She’s upset because you won’t live up to your responsibilities.”

  Gabriel bristled. “It’s not our country, and it’s not Rafe’s burden to bear. Back off.”

  Bella, with a worried look at the stricken Rafe, stepped in to make peace. “We’re all upset. Sniping at each other doesn’t make it better.” She sat down beside Rafe and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Isabella is old and sick and frail. We’ve all known this day would come.”

  Rafe jumped to his feet, his eyes stormy with something that looked a lot like fear. “She’s not dead yet. And Juan Carlos is right. I was dragging my feet about this decision. I should have said yes or no and ended this.”

  Gabriel cursed, a vicious nasty word that encompassed the whole of the Gordian knot that bound them all together. “I need some air,” he said.

  Maria sensed he was close to the breaking point. He was either going to punch out his cousin or start tearing up the hospital brick by brick. Part of her job was to maintain control of the situation. The last thing they needed at this point was a media circus.

  “Mind a little company?” she asked. She wasn’t intentionally trying to make Alex jealous by slipping away with Gabriel. She was simply doing what needed to be done. But despite the purity of her motives, Alex shot her a narrow glance that telegraphed his disapproval.

  Gabriel shrugged. “Not at all.”

  Bella gave her a grateful smile. “I’ll text you if there’s a change.”

  Outside, in the hospital courtyard, Maria sat on a concrete bench while Gabriel paced. The air was thick and humid, but it was still early enough that the temperature was bearable.

  She searched her social repertoire for the right words to defuse his tension but came up with nothing. So she sat in silence. Finally, after fifteen or twenty minutes, he plopped down beside her. “It’s a hell of a situation.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Gabriel leaned forward, his head in his hands. “If it were anyone else, I’d say my aunt was faking to manipulate my brother. But she’s one of the most honorable women I’ve ever met.”

  “And passionate about her homeland.”

  “Yeah.”

  “The delegation is set to do a final read through of the official proposal tomorrow. After that, they’ll want to meet with your family, or at least Rafe.”

  “Poor bastard.”

  “I’m guessing from what he said just now that he hasn’t made up his mind?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Damned if I know. Rafe can mimic the Sphinx when he wants to...but this situation with Isabella makes things harder for him.”

  “Unless he had already decided to accept.”

  “I wish I had your positive attitude.”

  The irony was almost amusing. She didn’t feel positive about anything at the moment.

  “We probably should go back inside,” she said. The sharp edge of Gabriel’s anger had been dulled by acceptance and grief. Grief for both his aunt and his brother.

  Maria stood up. Gabriel followed suit, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t suppose you’d help me run away to Tahiti in a sailboat and tell everyone I’m never coming back?”

  She chuckled, liking him more and more each time they met. “You’d regret it if I said yes. Besides, the women of Miami would never forgive me for allowing South Beach’s most eligible bachelor to disappear.”

  “Rafe’s the one who’s going to be a king. Doesn’t that put him at the top of the eligible list?”

  “Good point.”

  They were playing a silly game, trying to take their minds off the very serious events at stake. But nothing could disguise the truth.

  She sighed. “You may not be the king,” she said, “but you know you can’t run away, sailboat or no sailboat. Your family depends on you. Now more than ever. Bella is awfully young. Juan Carlos doesn’t have a dog in this fight. And Rafe...well, he’s under so much pressure. You can be the glue, Gabriel. They need you desperately, no matter what happens with Isabella.”

  He cocked his head. “You really care, don’t you? About a group of strangers?”

  “I’ve been studying dossiers on each one of you for months. I felt like I knew you before I arrived. But dry facts can only tell so much. Now tha
t I’ve become acquainted with all of the Montoros, I can see the big picture. And I understand why you’re important to Alma.” She paused. “To be honest, I think Alma will be important to all of you, as well. But that’s something you have to decide on your own.”

  He hugged her briefly. She felt a faint tremor in his body. There was nothing the least bit amorous about their quick embrace. Gabriel was simply a man at the end of his rope trying to hang on.

  When he released her, his expression was sheepish. “You won’t tell anyone I freaked out, will you?”

  “Of course not. I think you’re entitled.”

  He nodded once, his chin outthrust. “Enough of this. You’re right. Let’s go back in and see where things are.”

  * * *

  Alex saw them move, so he stepped quickly around the corner of the building, unwilling to be discovered. The tableau he witnessed had filled his throat with bile. Despite the fact that Maria had spent the better part of the weekend in Alex’s bed, there was no denying the truth. She and Gabriel were in the midst of something.

  Body language didn’t lie. They were comfortable with each other. Intimate. A connection like that could only happen when two people were very close.

  Alex had known Maria for years and yet had never ended up in her bed until now. Gabriel had known her for a couple of weeks, and already the two of them were confidants. Maybe they hadn’t had sex yet. Alex didn’t honestly think Maria would sleep with two men in the same interval.

  But she was not a hundred percent sure about her feelings for Alex. She was worried about how their relationship would play out back in Alma. In some ways, Gabriel must have seemed to her like the easier choice. Or maybe Gabriel represented a walk on the wild side without consequences that would follow her home.

  Alex felt the sting of betrayal even as he recognized his response as irrational. He and Maria had made no pledges. They were not exclusive. She had every right, moral or otherwise, to develop a relationship with Gabriel Montoro.

  Alex scraped his hands across his face and reminded himself that this changed nothing. Isabella was still desperately ill. The proposal still had to pass muster with the delegation...then the Montoros. And Alex was still the orchestrator of everything.