At His Service: Flirting with the Boss: Crazy about her Spanish Boss / Hired: The Boss's Bride / Blind Date with the Boss

“Yes …” She grabbed at the first excuse he’d supplied.

“It wouldn’t have been because you’d wanted to meet with me specifically?”

Her heart picked up speed. She jerked her head around to look at him, freeing those golden strands that had been pressed against his skin, with its smattering of black hairs. Being in such close proximity to him, she felt like every sense had been magnified to the hundredth power.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because I questioned the worker you talked to. He happened to be Diego, one of my assistants.”

Jillian clutched her purse in reaction. She might have known.

“He said you asked questions about the owner and he told you to call and make an appointment with me. When he told me what time you’d stopped to talk to him, I realized you couldn’t have been on the road ten minutes before the accident.”

“That’s true,” she whispered.

Silence ensued before he said, “Why did you want to see me? Obviously you had a particular reason in mind, otherwise you’d have been off somewhere on a tour bus for the day.”

She lowered her head. He had her squirming. “I—I’m afraid I made a mistake.”

At her remark, she felt his body tauten. “In what way?” he asked.

Afraid she’d offended him again, she moistened her lips nervously. “I wanted to discuss business with you, but since then I’ve changed my mind.”

“You send mixed messages, Senora. Did you not tell me I was an angel with some redeeming qualities?”

Without an honest answer, he would never let this go. She stirred restlessly in the seat. “It’s because you’ve already been so wonderful to me, I don’t want you to feel I’m taking advantage of your good nature.”

“I could hardly assume that when the accident happened after you’d made an effort to talk to me.”

Defeated, she exhaled softly before saying, “All right. I’ve been a tour guide for EuropaUtimate Tours six years now. On occasion I help plan their itineraries. So far in France and Spain they’ve concentrated on the main tourist attractions along the French Riviera and the Costa del Sol. I’m trying to put a different trip together that includes the less-frequented parts of central Spain and Portugal.”

His penetrating gaze played over her features. “Most tourists want a beach vacation.”

“I agree, but then there are tourists like me who like to learn things and explore.”

He stared at her through veiled eyes. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

She decided he found her amusing. Taking a fortifying breath she said, “Our tour buses make stops at all kinds of places, including vineyards, but we’ve never offered an olive grove as an educational part of a tour before.

“As I was driving along yesterday, I passed several miles of them and the idea came to me to speak to the owner. When I came to the gate I saw the words Soleado Goyo fashioned in the grillwork. The man told me the estate was owned by the Conde.

“Before the accident happened I was hoping you might consider allowing our tour buses to stop at your estate and enjoy a small tour of the olive groves. To my knowledge our company has never offered an excursion like that here in Spain. It could be a big selling point to tourists if marketed properly. Naturally it would have to be beneficial to you.”

After a moment of quiet she heard his slow intake of breath, as if he carried a heavy weight few people would ever detect. It came from that dark place in his psyche. Though she didn’t know the reason for it, she wanted to cry for his pain laid buried so deeply.

He slowly removed his arm and sat back in the seat. “Come home with me and we’ll talk about it.”

She turned to look at him again. “You mean now?”

“Sí, but I would understand if you’re not feeling up to the drive yet.”

“I’ve never felt better,” she defended.

“Bueno. Until you’ve seen the estate from the inside, no meaningful discussion can take place. Since I need to get back, I suggest we take advantage of the time. As you just told me, you were going to spend the day working anyway.”

“But that would mean you’d have to drive me back here later. It would be too much to ask.”

“Believe me, anyone on my staff would be happy for a reason to escape.”

His comment caused the corner of her mouth to turn up. “Are you such a dreadful boss?”

The devil was in the smile he flashed at her. “I’ll let you be the judge. I should probably tell you ahead of time Diego would refuse his next paycheck for the privilege of escorting you anywhere.”

Jillian felt her cheeks grow hot. “He was very obliging.”

“I should imagine he and most men are, available or not.”

Remi was warning her about something. “Is Diego married?”

“Sí. Dangerously so.”

She laughed. “Dangerously?”

“With four children, his wife keeps very close tabs on him.”

“He’s very handsome, but she has no reason to fear a one-eyed American doing business with Count Goyo.” She loved the way that sounded.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Before 1850 that title might have meant something, but no longer. I prefer you to think of me as Remi.”

That was the fourth time he’d told her.

“Beware of something else, Senora. Your patch adds an intriguing element some might find irresistible.”

“You’ve just given me an idea. If I find out I’m blind, I may have a set of designer patches made up in different colors to match my outfits. What do you think?”

“I think you’re thinking too much,” sounded his gravelly voice.

“I’m only planning ahead. You have to admit the tourists on my bus wouldn’t have any trouble finding me in a crowd.”

“Did they ever?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

She felt his gaze on her. “What do you do in that case?”

“I find them.”

“In certain quarters that could also prove dangerous.”