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 of her meat. After letting it digest he said, “It will do. However, we’ll give it five minutes just to make sure.”
“Don’t be silly.” She grabbed the other fork. After cutting herself a bite of roast beef, she quickly finished it off.
His black eyes glittered. “You live dangerously, don’t you, Senora.”
Jillian’s coworkers had made comments of that nature before. When Kyle had first met her, he’d called her fearless. They’d all said it in a teasing manner, but coming from this man’s lips made it feel like a criticism.
“Perhaps you say that because you see a lot of yourself in me, Senor,” she ventured boldly.
Between dark lashes his eyes gleamed with a strange light. “Touché.”
While he took his plate and sat down in the chair to eat, she felt caught up in emotions foreign to her experience up to now. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
“Play a lot of solitaire, do you?” came the innocent sounding question.
She stopped munching on her roll. Nothing got past his all-seeing gaze. “I presume you turn to darts when you find yourself at a loose end.”
He flashed her a wicked smile. “Knives are more my style.”
“I was going to say that,” she assured him without batting an eye, “but at the last second I chose not to presume in case I irritated your sensibilities.”
A bark of laughter escaped his tanned throat. “I thought you decided I didn’t have any.”
“You have to have some, otherwise you wouldn’t have been the angel who made it possible for me to recover this quickly. Which brings me to what I wanted to say earlier.”
To her frustration he kept eating as if he had little interest in the conversation.
“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t require your help any longer and would like to repay you.”
“You sound like your brother.”
Exasperated, she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I mean it, Senor.”
“Remi. That’s the third time I’ve had to remind you.”
She was very much aware of that fact, but calling him by his first name put them on a more intimate footing. After tonight Jillian didn’t plan to see him again. Though she felt a sense of deprivation just thinking about it, she had to draw the line somewhere.
“I’m aware you won’t let me give you money, so the only thing I can do is release you from your promise to my brother. The truth is, I’d like to be alone tonight and know you would, too.”
In a lightning move he got up and put his empty plate on the tray. His enigmatic gaze sought hers. “For a woman I only met yesterday, you claim to know a great deal about me.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ve eaten your olive oil. After seeing those groves I realize you’re a man with great responsibilities, Remi.”
“At last you say my name,” he drawled with satisfaction.
Jillian averted her eyes. “I’d be a lot happier if you gave up the vigil and left me to my own devices. You’re always on the phone and need to get on with your life. So do I,” she finished, her voice throbbing.
“Surely not tonight.”
She had no answer for that.
When he placed his bronzed hands on the edge of the table, she noted inconsequently there was no white wedding ring mark on his third finger. Had he ever worn one? The action brought him closer to her body. She caught the faint fragrance of the soap he’d used in the shower, creating more havoc with her senses.
“You look tired. Why don’t we continue this conversation tomorrow before you’re discharged? I presume there are other people anxious to receive an e-mail from you this evening. Since you pointed out I have many things to attend to,” he mocked, “I’ll say good-night now and see you after we’ve both had some sleep.
“If you need me for any reason, phone the Casa Cervantes here in Madrid. It’s not that far from the hospital. They’ll put your call through to me. Buenas noches, Jillian.”
On his way out the door he wheeled the cot into the hall with him, ostensibly to make more space in her room.
“Buenas noches,” she whispered to his retreating back, experiencing more disappointment because he’d never had any intention of spending another night with her.