The Montoros Dynasty. Katherine Garbera

she had been chosen by the committee. Her talent and hard work impressed everyone who witnessed her in action.

      She’d been right to call him on his preoccupation. Nothing at the moment was more important than the Montoros.

      As they finished their meal, the housekeeper hovered, spiriting away empty plates and keeping their glasses full. At last, she left them alone.

      Alex cleared his throat. “Would you like a nap?”

      “The answer is yes, but I’m not going to take one. I’m determined to beat this jet lag. How about a walk instead?”

      “You do know it’s hot as hell out there.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. But it’s Florida. I’ve never been here.”

      He held out his hands. “Far be it from me to stop you. I’ll tag along to make sure you don’t get lost.”

      Maria changed clothes so quickly he was stunned. Instead of the subdued navy dress she had worn earlier, she came out of her room wearing white shorts that showcased her long, tanned legs and a raspberry-colored tank top. Her hair was now caught up in a free-falling ponytail. The outfit shaved half a dozen years off her age, reminding him again of how young she was.

      He swallowed against a tight throat. “That was fast.”

      She shrugged. “My mother believes in a woman being herself. Too many lotions and potions breed vanity...or so she claims. I started sneaking mascara and lip gloss when I was fourteen.”

      “Such a rebel,” he teased.

      “I tried to behave. I really did, because I adored my mother, even as a bratty teenager. But I wanted to be like all the other girls.”

      “Not such a terrible failing.”

      “I suppose not. But she came home from work early one day before I’d had a chance to wash my face, and she was so...”

      “Angry?”

      “No. Not that. It was worse. I had disappointed her. She told me that it was a mistake for a girl to primp and paint herself to attract a boy. That I should be proud of who I was inside. That the exterior didn’t matter.”

      “Wise words.”

      “Yes. But they came from a place of pain. I never knew the details, though it was no secret that my father abandoned her before I was born. When it came to love, she had chosen poorly, and she paid for it the rest of her life. My goal has been to earn enough money to set her up in a little retirement flat. I owe her so much. And I want to give her a chance to enjoy life while she is still strong and healthy.”

      “You’re a good daughter.”

      For a fleeting second he witnessed a surprising vulnerability in her aquamarine eyes. “I hope so.”

       Four

      As they exited the small house, Alex pondered Maria’s words. He knew she was ambitious. Unlike some people, he didn’t see that as a negative in a woman. He’d like to think he was more of an enlightened male than some of his contemporaries.

      But what if Maria’s ambitions had more to do with securing a future for her mother and herself than for simply rising in the ranks of government service? Did she want a husband and children? Or had her mother’s experience made Maria reluctant to entrust a man with her future? The more he thought about it, the less he was sure of anything.

      What bothered him the most was the faint but insistent notion that she might be setting herself up to land in a Montoro’s bed. Gabriel’s to be exact. Did Maria have fantasies of becoming a princess?

      Almost instantly, Alex was ashamed of his doubts. He had no basis at all for such a supposition. Merely his own jealousy. Though he knew a relationship with Maria was not likely to be good for either of them, he winced at the thought of her being with another man. Surely it was a dog-in-the-manger attitude.

      As they wandered the grounds, he tried to keep his mind on the flora and fauna and not on the long-legged grace of the beauty in front of him. The more time he spent in Maria’s company, the less control he had over his fantasy life. Already, he’d been awakened twice on this trip by intensely erotic dreams.

      Now, with her three feet ahead, his hands itched to feel the silky hair that tumbled down her back. It bounced and swung as she walked. In his imagination he could see that same hair spread out across his pillow, those wide-set eyes, drowsy with passion, staring up at him.

      Damn it. He was hard and hot and horny, none of which were appropriate conditions for the man who was supposed to be orchestrating a diplomatic dance that could affect thousands of lives.

      Clenching his jaw, he concentrated on naming the flowering shrubs they passed. Anything to keep from staring at a heart-shaped butt and narrow waist made for the grasp of a man’s hands.

      Despite her claim of jet lag, Maria seemed indefatigable. The various pathways were clearly marked, so it was easy to circle back around in the direction of their accommodations. At the very last turn, they lingered beside a small lagoon, taking advantage of a patch of shade.

      A pair of peacocks strutted on the far bank. Birdsong echoed from every direction. Maria leaned against a tree trunk, propping one foot behind her. “I like the wildness,” she said, smiling dreamily. “The landscape is passionate and alive.”

      “If it were you, would you go back to a country where you had never lived? Simply to fulfill a destiny you didn’t choose?”

      She gazed toward the water, her profile as familiar to him now as his own face in the mirror. “I honestly don’t know. My life is so different. Once my mother is gone, I’ll never have a chance to press the issue of my father’s identity. And she won’t even discuss her own family, because they threw her out when she ended up pregnant and unmarried. So the idea of having a family tree that can be traced back almost two thousand years is hard for me to grasp. My past is a blank slate.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said.

      “It is what it is.”

      She wasn’t trying to elicit his sympathy. Her words were matter-of-fact. He wondered, though, if she recognized the vein of wistful sadness he heard in them.

      Her skin glowed with heat and perspiration. It occurred to him in that quiet moment that her beauty was intrinsic, not dependent at all on the paints and potions she had so whimsically described. She might look much like this after a bout of energetic lovemaking.

      Shifting restlessly from one foot to the other, he fought the urge to take her in his arms. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch. “We should get back and clean up.”

      She nodded, smiling at him with such sweet openness that his heart clenched in his chest. “I’m glad I was able to come on this trip. I know you put in a good word for me, and I’m grateful.”

      He stared at her, his body rigid with desire. “I don’t want your gratitude, Maria.”

      Hurt flickered in her eyes, only to be replaced by dawning surprise as she realized what he wasn’t saying. “I asked you before what you needed from me. And you wouldn’t answer.”

      “Correction. I didn’t answer because you weren’t willing to listen.”

      She straightened from her relaxed pose against the tree and took a step in his direction. “And if I’m ready now?”

      He shuddered, no longer able to hide the hunger that rode him hard. “Come here,” he said, tugging her by the hand until she landed against his chest. He linked his hands at the small of her back, allowing himself one tiny nibble of a shell-like ear.

      She looked up at him, her eyes huge. “Men are strange creatures.”

      He choked out a laugh. “What does that mean?”