Minding Her Boss's Business. Janice Maynard

      “I think you may be a tiny bit prejudiced.”

      They talked for five more minutes on less sensitive topics and then Maria said her good-nights. Her body was still on Alma time. The temptation to climb into bed was strong. But she knew she needed to resist if she was going to get past the jet lag.

      She wasn’t quite brave enough to strike out on her own in a strange city, but she had noticed a charming café in the hotel lobby as well as a series of shops with eye-catching merchandise. That would be exploration enough for one day.

      Grabbing her billfold with its modest stash of American dollars, she tucked her room key and cosmetic case in a small tote and went in search of the elevator. She’d feared feeling out of place, but the hotel staff was exceptionally kind and friendly. Because she was on the early end of the dinner hour, she was escorted to a table near the window, perfectly situated to gaze out at the ocean.

      After that, it was a toss-up as to whether she enjoyed the food or the view more. Though Alma supported a thriving fishing industry, the variety of seafood here in Miami was out of the ordinary. She ordered baby shrimp in a béchamel sauce with spring vegetables over angel-hair pasta. Every bite was a treat.

      Afterward, she browsed the shops, trying not to let her shock show at some of the prices. Clearly the patrons of this hotel were upscale consumers with plenty of disposable income. A designer swimsuit and cover-up for twelve hundred dollars. Seventy-five-dollar rhinestone-studded beach sandals. A rattan tote that cost more that Maria earned in a month.

      Fortunately, she had never needed such things to be happy. Her mother had taught her to hunt for bargains and to stretch a euro. Though Maria admired the merchandise, it was more in the nature of appreciating exhibits at a museum. She didn’t covet any of it.

      When she had worked her way around the main floor of the hotel, it was still too early for bedtime. On a whim, she returned to the restaurant and decided to order dessert. Her table was not as ideally situated this go-round, but the watermelon sorbet and caramel-drizzled shortbread cookie more than made up for it.

      She was sipping coffee when a familiar figure surrounded by three or four other men entered the room. Gabriel Montoro stood out no matter where she spotted him. After paying her check, she was preparing to leave when he surprised her by showing up at her table and sitting down in the empty chair.

      Lifting an eyebrow, she cocked her head. “I’m on my way out. I recommend the dessert special.”

      Gabriel picked up an unused table knife and rotated it end over end between his fingers. “If I’d known you were eating solo, I’d have invited you to join me.”

      “Not necessary. Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with my thoughts.”

      “Ouch,” he said, wincing theatrically.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t mean it that way.” She studied his face. For a man who claimed to live life on his own terms, she saw signs of strain. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. Just trying to kill some time before I crash.”

      He glanced at her empty cup. “Caffeine won’t help.”

      “So I’ve been told. But the coffee here is amazing.”

      When she stood, he did, as well. “I’ll walk you to the lobby,” he said.

      “Aren’t your friends waiting for you?”

      “It’s a business thing. And not that urgent.”

      She was unable to dissuade him. Outside the restaurant, he steered her toward a store she hadn’t entered because it was mostly jewelry. “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning.

      “I need your advice.” He pointed toward a glass case. “Which one is the prettiest? The palm tree? Or the crab…”

      She gaped. “Well, uh…” She studied the two pieces. Both were gold with delicate chains. The palm tree had a tiny diamond coconut. The crab sported two emerald eyes. “They’re each beautiful.”

      “But?”

      “Well, if I had to pick, I’d go for the crab. He’s whimsical.”

      “Fair enough.” He handed the salesclerk a platinum card.

      Still baffled, Maria watched him complete the transaction. As they left the shop, Gabriel took her hand and pressed the small, lime-green bag into her palm. “This is my apology,” he said. “For being a jerk yesterday. You’re doing your best to help my family, and even if we don’t really care, it was rude of me to say so.”

      Maria shoved the bag back at him, appalled. “Oh, no, Mr. Montoro. That’s not necessary. Not at all. You don’t owe me any apologies.”

      “I told you to call me Gabriel.”

      “Gabriel, then. It would be very inappropriate of me to accept such a valuable gift.”

      “Forgive me for being crass, but this is nothing. Just a way for me to soothe my conscience.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t want you to judge my family by my behavior. I’ve gotta run. Sleep well, Maria.”

      As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

      Maria stared at the small bag in her hand, feeling a coil of unease settle in her stomach. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t afford to offend a member of the royal family.

      A masculine voice, cold and clipped, interrupted her reverie. “I think I was wrong about you, Maria. I thought you were too inexperienced and naive to deal with the likes of Gabriel Montoro. But apparently you know exactly what you’re doing.”

      She looked up to find Alex regarding her with disdain and patent disapproval. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said.

      “Cliché, my dear. Cliché. A man gives a woman he barely knows jewelry? I think I’m pretty clear about the facts.”

      Her temper started to simmer. “First of all, you’re way out of line. Second of all, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Back off, Alex. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Gabriel was apologizing for being antagonistic about our efforts yesterday.”

      “He didn’t buy me jewelry.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m going up to bed. Good night.” His criticism stung, in part because she felt guilty about accepting the bauble.

      She didn’t make it as far as the elevator before Alex caught up with her. “I called your room, but you didn’t answer,” he said.

      “I’ve been trying to stay awake a little longer. I ate dinner alone and did some window-shopping. Last time I checked, neither of those was a crime.”

      Alex’s jaw firmed. “I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions. I was calling to see if you wanted to walk on the beach.”

      The look in his dark eyes said he was telling the truth. And that his apology was sincere. Late-day stubble shadowed his jawline, giving him a rakish, dangerous air.

      Her anger deflated, leaving her dangerously vulnerable to his weary charm. “I appreciate the offer, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Maybe another evening?”

      He nodded. “Of course.”

      “Good night, Alex.”

      He took her wrist and then released it abruptly when she flinched. “You’ve made quite an impression on the royal family,” he said.

      “I don’t understand.”

      “They’ve invited us to spend tomorrow and Sunday at the family enclave in Coral Gables.”

      “The whole delegation?”

      He shook his head. “Just you and me.”

      “Oh.” Well, shoot. “I can make an excuse. It’s more appropriate for you to be there.”