The Montoros Dynasty

Catching herself and grabbing for her tote, which threatened to spill everywhere, she looked up in consternation. “Alex.”

He wore a gray T-shirt and navy running shorts. With some alarm, she realized that she had never seen his legs bare. If that weren’t enough to make her gawk and stutter, she also had to take note of his broad chest and the dark patterns where sweat marked his shirt.

“Hello, Maria. You’re up early.”

He spoke calmly, as though their last encounter hadn’t ended acrimoniously.

She nodded. “I burn easily. I thought it might be nice to spend time at the beach now. I won’t be late for our meeting.”

He cocked his head. “Am I such an ogre?”

The teasing glint in his eyes made her stomach clench with feelings that were definitely not professional. “Of course not.”

“Good.”

They both stood there waiting for the other to speak.

“You’ve been running,” she said, as if it weren’t obvious.

“Yes.” When he removed his aviator sunglasses, his gaze was stormy. “It’s a stress reliever.”

“You have a lot on your plate.”

“The Montoros aren’t the only problem I’m juggling at the moment.”

“What else is there?” She was genuinely curious.

“This and that.” The words were flat. Without inflection. But the dark-eyed gaze held an intensity that made her nipples bead beneath two layers of fabric.

She swallowed hard. “I won’t keep you then.”

He took a step in her direction but stopped short. “I’d better hit the shower,” he muttered. “I’m having breakfast with Rafael Montero.”

“Father or son?”

“Father. He’s one generation closer to the past. I’m hoping he’ll help us sway the younger ones.”

“He may be bitter about his own missed opportunity.”

“Somehow, I doubt it. He seems to have a very casual approach to life.”

“You sound as if you don’t approve.”

Alex shrugged, the fabric of his T-shirt clinging to a broad, muscular chest. “I’m not sure how the American personality will translate in Alma. The older people still remember days of pomp and circumstance. A laid-back monarchy may be hard to swallow.”

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

“No.” He grimaced. “But it’s the assignment we’ve been given. If we’re in pursuit of the ‘good old days,’ then the monarchy is necessary for our people to feel as if life has finally returned to normal.”

“Better the devil you know?”

Alex chuckled, his face lightening. “Something like that. I’d better get moving. See you at ten.”

As he walked away, Maria allowed herself to track his progress. He moved with a rangy masculine gait that encompassed determination and impatience. She wondered if he ever truly relaxed.

Down on the sand, she selected a lounger and spread her towel. At this hour, the sun worshippers were few and far between. A handful of joggers. Several people walking their dogs.

She had just picked up her paperback novel when a shadow fell over her left arm. Shading her eyes with one hand, she looked up. “Gabriel. What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have pegged you for an early riser.”

He waited for her to move her legs to one side and then settled on the end of the chaise. “I’m not,” he said, yawning. “Just now going to bed.”

“Ah.”

He shook his head with a wry grin. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I have a weekly poker game with some buddies.”

“Did you win?”

“I always win.”

Despite his reputation, she couldn’t help liking the black sheep Montoro. He seemed very comfortable in his own skin, and that was a trait she admired. “Where do you live?” she asked.

“I have a condo here on the beach. But our family has a compound at Coral Gables. You should let me take you there. It’s quite fabulous. You’d like it, I think...”

“I’m here to work,” she said, smiling to soften the blow. “But thank you.”

“If it’s your stick-up-his-butt boss you’re worried about, I’ll invite him along, as well.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Alex is a wonderful man. And he cares deeply about his country. I admire him very much.”

“Does he know about your...devotion?”

The pause before the last word was pointed. She felt her face flush. “We’re colleagues, nothing more.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’m uncomfortable with this subject,” she said, wincing inwardly at how prissy she sounded.

Gabriel waved a hand. “Fine. My apologies.” He yawned again. “I need some shut-eye. Don’t stay out too long and get burned, pretty Maria.”

“Why are people so interested in giving me advice? I’m a grown woman, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Gabriel stood and stretched, his shoulders blocking out the sun. “I noticed,” he said, the grin turning roguish. “But I know a lost cause when I see one. You’re too nice a woman for the likes of me.”

“I think I’ve been insulted.”

“Not at all,” he protested. “It’s just that I don’t have a great track record with sweet young things. Someone always gets a heart broken.”

“Do you ever take life seriously?”