At His Service: Flirting with the Boss. Rebecca Winters

F G.”

      Her husband’s initials?

      He opened it with no problem. Beneath the padding of several layers of filmy lingergie he found her laptop nestled among her clothes. The adaptor was already attached to the cord. All he had to do was insert it in the Internet outlet on the wall behind her bed.

      “There you are.” He placed it on her lap, inadvertently brushing her arm in the process. The touch of her soft, smooth skin shouldn’t have fazed him, but to his chagrin he felt her warmth long after he’d straightened away from her bed. That hadn’t happened for several years. He hadn’t thought it possible to respond to a woman’s touch ever again.

      Out of the periphery he watched for her to lift the lid, but she made no such move. Clearly she wanted him out of her room and her life, but he had no intention of going anywhere.

      Instead he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Fermin, who ran the bottling plant on the estate. Today the weekly shipment to England needed to be loaded onto the trucks. Remi normally checked every case that went out, but today Fermin would have to be relied on to do it without him.

      In order to start making a profit, Remi had long ago pared down the staff to the hardest workers who remained loyal to him. Judging by Luis’s figures, Remi’s efforts had paid off and everything was going well, even better than expected.

      After planting himself in the chair, which he purposely turned the other way to avoid the frustrated looks Senora Gray kept sending him, he immersed himself in conversation with the older man who knew the business like the inside of his pocket. They discussed rehiring Jorge Diaz.

      The younger man had been wanting to come back to Goyo’s on a permanent basis for some time now. Remi conceded that Jorge had always been a good worker, even if he’d been caught between conflicting loyalties for a time. When he and Fermin finally concluded business, Remi promised he’d think about it.

      On a final note he told Fermin he would find a sizable bonus in his next paycheck for sticking with him over the last two difficult years. It would be the first of many such installments for his unfailing devotion to Remi and the business.

      The older man got all choked up before they said goodbye.

      Without pausing for breath Remi phoned the company that had done the wiring for the Internet on the estate. He wanted someone sent out as soon as possible to put an outlet in the master bedroom of the main house.

      When an arrangement was made for the next day, a pleased Remi thanked the man before phoning Maria to tell her about it. He was curious to know how things were shaping up at the main house. She assured him their guest would want for nothing. While she commiserated over the Senora’s eye injury, the nurse came in the room to put in more drops and take her vital signs.

      Remi walked out to the hall to give them privacy.

      As long as he still had Maria on the line, he cautioned her against saying anything about the injury to Senora Gray. The American woman didn’t like being reminded of it. The less said, the better. Maria assured him she’d be the soul of discretion.

      Once he’d rung off, he saw orderlies down the hall bringing dinners from the kitchen. Surprised at the lateness of the hour, he realized the day had gotten away from him without his being aware of it. Before one of the men could enter Jillian’s room, Remi said he’d take it in to her.

      Pulling some bills from his wallet he asked if another dinner could be sent up for him. One small sandwich hadn’t been enough. He was still hungry.

      The younger man refused the money, but told Remi to wait and he’d be right back with another dinner for him.

      Excellent.

      Remi stood outside the door enjoying the idea of fencing with her—that age-old Castilian dance usually involving two men at home with a sword made of the hardest Toledo steel.

      Though she wielded her own feminine weapon very well and knew some fancy footwork that made her a worthy opponent, she’d never come up against a Goyo before. Senora Gray was about to be taught some moves still unknown to her.

      Once the nurse had gone, Jillian sent a few e-mails to her boss, Pia, and a few coworkers thanking them for the flowers, but for some odd reason she didn’t feel like digging in to real work after all. At the moment she wasn’t capable of much more than twiddling her thumbs.

      It appeared Senor Goyo had decided to obey her request and leave the hospital. She’d hoped he would go, but now that she was alone, she had to admit she missed his electrifying presence, the only words to describe his effect on her.

      The degree of the Spaniard’s male beauty was off the charts and she’d only been taking in his striking attributes out of one eye. What would happen if she could see him full vision?

      Place a suit of armor made from the finest Toledo steel on his hard-muscled body and he could be one of those incredible-looking conquistadors sweeping across the New World with Cortez. Come to think of it, didn’t the gorgeous Pedro in Captain from Castile go by the name “de Vargas”?’ One of Senor Goyo’s ancestors perhaps?

      She was being foolish with all her fantasies, but deep down she recognized this important man was someone unforgettable. A man in his thirties was normally married with children. Jillian would love to know his history, but she’d caught a glimpse of his dark side earlier and didn’t feel brave enough to trespass. She didn’t have the right, not when she owed him so much.

      Restless, she turned on her side, careful not to let the laptop slip to the floor. The last thing she needed was time on her hands. It made her think, and when she started to think, she began to feel sorry for herself. That would never do.

      She turned on her back again and opened the laptop to play solitaire. She hadn’t been driven to do this for a long time. While she tested herself to see how fast she could move the aces and kings into position, the door opened.

      When she looked up, her breath caught to see the object of her musings walk inside. He’d come bearing more gifts. The aroma of roast beef permeated the hospital room. She’d thought she wasn’t hungry, but his stimulating presence piqued her appetite.

      Earlier she’d noticed that he’d found time to shower and shave. A navy sports shirt and white khakis molded his powerful chest and thighs. She decided she liked him better in modern clothing. Silver armor would have covered up that well-defined physique.

      There she went again marveling over his considerable male charms. Secretly excited he’d returned to her room, she was confused, stunned by her reaction to him.

      Just last week she’d turned down yet another guy for dinner. One of her friends at work had warned her the day would come when she’d want to start living again. Jillian had shaken her head. She wasn’t interested. No man would ever compare to Kyle.

      But that was before she’d had the accident. When she’d least expected it, a stranger had come along to rescue her. She’d been whisked away to a hospital by a man from La Mancha.

      Helpless to do otherwise, she stole another glance at him. That’s when the realization hit.

       No man could compare to the Senor, either.

      The revelation shocked her into silence, but he took no notice. After removing her laptop he rolled the table across her body. “Your dinner, Senora.” He lifted the cover off the dinner plate. “I believe it’s edible.”

      Without looking at him she muttered, “You mean you’re not sure?”

      “Are you asking me to test it first?” he countered. “I had no idea that inside your deceptive shell beats the heart of Cleopatra.”

      Until she’d sensed an edge to his tone, she’d thought he was being playful.

      What an odd thing to say. In what way did she look deceptive?

      Without waiting for her answer he picked up one of the forks and ate a piece