The Montoros Dynasty

“Of course.”

They moved to the nearby grouping of sofas and chairs. The room was extremely large. Though Alex hadn’t asked for it, he presumed that his position as head of the delegation had warranted the generous quarters.

Maria was dressed casually in a soft multicolored skirt that touched her knees and a thin, sleeveless top of ivory silk. The barely there sandals she wore showcased pink toenails.

Although she sat on the love seat, he was too antsy to join her at the moment. He ran a hand through his hair. “So tell me. How did it go?”

She shrugged, her expression pensive. “It’s hard to say. They asked a million questions. Good questions. Rafe, as always, was reserved.”

“Do they seem at all receptive to the proposal?”

“They’re guarding their options. We have to remember that they haven’t even seen a copy of it yet.”

“True. If the rough draft gets an okay next week, the plan was to go ahead and let the Montoros take a look.”

“Does that mean they get a chance to approve or disapprove?”

“I don’t think the delegation will like that idea. Unless we have a solid commitment first.”

“In other words, two stubborn entities in a standoff.”

“No one wants to lose face or operate from a position of weakness.”

“I think the key to winning them over is going to be the personal touch. If they trust you and the delegation, they’re going to be much more likely to agree to our proposal.”

“Well, they trust you. That’s a start.”

She crossed her arms and thrust out her chin. “There you go again. Flinging insults.”

He held out his hands. “I certainly did not. It was a compliment.”

Her expression was skeptical. “Didn’t sound like one.”

Judging himself sufficiently in control of his emotions to get closer, he sat down beside her and touched her arm. “I’m glad they feel comfortable talking to you. Really I am. You’re an incredible asset to the team.”

She stared at him, vulnerability in the depths of her gaze. At times he forgot about her humble beginnings and that her maturity belied her years. “I’m serious,” he said softly. “I admire you, Maria. You’re smart and quick-thinking and you have a better grasp of human emotions than I do. Thank you for meeting with Rafe and Bella and Gabriel tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, her words barely audible.

She no longer met his gaze, so he had to lift her chin with his finger. “I don’t like it when we fight,” he muttered.

Maria didn’t reply, but her hand came up to cover his. He thought she meant to push him away, but instead, she twined her fingers with his. “I don’t like it, either.”

Ten seconds passed. Or maybe a hundred. Awareness quivered in the air. He could hear the thump of his own heartbeat in his ears. Maria’s cheeks flushed, her eyes starry with something he dared not put a name to. Later, he couldn’t remember which of them moved first.

Their lips met softly...tentatively. He slid a hand beneath her hair to cup the back of her neck. The top of her spine was fragile, the curve of her nape feminine. “I want you,” he said. He had an advanced degree in diplomacy and a reputation as a persuasive leader. But in that moment he felt as awkward as a high school kid on his first date.

Maria leaned into him, her posture both eager and trusting. He should try to be worthy of that trust, but if such a thing meant sending her away, then he was doomed.

She put a hand against his cheek, stroking the stubble that appeared if he didn’t shave twice a day. Her gaze clashed with his, her eyes deep enough to drown in. “I want you, too, Alex. But without regrets. If this time in Miami is all we have, let it be enough.”

Nine (#u6475eb09-1048-5d04-9160-b29e47bf3f82)

The wording made him frown. What she was offering would be the perfect scenario for most men. A temporary liaison. No strings attached. Yet, oddly, her plea unsettled him.

Because he didn’t want to answer, he let his actions tell her what he couldn’t yet say. The silk shell she wore came off easily over her head. He caught a ragged breath at the sight of her breasts barely covered in smooth, ivory satin. When he tossed the top aside, he realized that his hands were shaking.

Maria had gone still, her wary gaze alert, like a doe in the forest scenting danger. But she didn’t stop him when he drew her to her feet. “I need you naked,” he groaned, unzipping her skirt and drawing it down and off. Her French-cut undies matched the bra. Plain...unadorned...but sexy as hell. “Ah, Maria.”

She hadn’t said a word since he began unwrapping the most wonderful present he’d ever been offered. Was it shyness that kept her silent?

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he muttered. The bra fell away. He steadied her as she stepped out of the sandals. Tracing the elastic band of her only remaining item of clothing, he sighed. “Please say something.”

Her smile was tremulous. “I haven’t done this very often.”

“I don’t need an accounting.” In fact, he’d rather not know. The thought of his Maria with other men made him a little crazy.

“That’s not what I mean.” She started in on his shirt buttons. “I want to please you. But my experience is—”

He put a hand over her mouth for the second time that night. “Your experience is irrelevant. That’s what it is...irrelevant. Neither of us has ever been here before. Everything we say and do in this room is brand-new.” He tucked her hair aside and kissed the soft skin beneath her ear. “Brand-new, Maria.”

It took a great deal of fortitude to allow her to unclothe him. But she was so sweetly intent on her task he clenched his fists at his hips and let her take the lead. When her fingers touched his belt buckle, he inhaled sharply, the sound a quick hiss of startled shock.

Since when had a woman ever been able to arouse him with such innocent motions? Stretched on a rack of unfilled desire, he braced himself as she slid his shirt from his shoulders and then tugged his trousers to his knees. When she paused, he kicked off his socks and shoes and pants in one ungainly dance.

His navy boxers did little to hide how much he wanted her.

And still his would-be lover was mute. “I think we could adjourn to the bed,” he said, smiling with a grimace that was supposed to be reassuring.

Maria nodded, allowing him to take her hand and draw her toward the king-size mattress that could sleep half a dozen men. The coverlet was navy damask, the contrasting pillows and trim taupe. Against the heavy, ornate fabric, Maria’s skin would glow.

At the last instant, he picked her up in his arms and used one hand to fling back the covers. Maria looked up at him, her eyelashes at half-mast, her throat and chest flushed with color. “I’m on the pill,” she said.

All members of the delegation had undergone fairly stringent physicals before leaving for the States. Though he had condoms with him, he found himself fiercely glad that they would be unnecessary.

“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely. “I don’t want you to think I’m coercing you.”

For the first time since she entered his suite, her face lightened, and she laughed out loud. “I’m pretty sure you’re not. It’s a little insulting that I had to work so hard to get your attention.”

He deposited her on the soft sheets and followed her down. “Are you kidding? I noticed you the first day you came to work for our company in London. But you were way too young and I was way too busy.”

“And later?” Her arms remained at her sides, as if she were afraid to move.

He traced a fingertip from the center of her forehead, down her nose, between her breasts, all the way to her navel, where he stopped to let both of them catch their breath. “In Alma I watched you bloom from a pretty young girl to a mature, fascinating woman. But we were both consumed with the work at hand—steering Alma’s fate.”

“Did you have this in mind when you suggested me to be on the delegation?”

Her quiet question caught him off guard. He was the one to flush this time. Had he envisioned this moment? Really? It troubled him that he couldn’t give her an unequivocal answer.