At His Service: Flirting with the Boss. Rebecca Winters

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