The Spanish Tycoon's Takeover

‘I left them at the nurses’ station.’

‘Oh, good thinking.’

He frowned, and leaned forward to peer at her. He smelled like vanilla and pinecones and the sea—all her favourite things.

‘Wynne, are you okay?’

She suddenly realised she’d been staring, but not talking. She shook herself. ‘I’m fine. Just worried about Serena.’

His frown deepened. Gone was all his former arrogance and...and hardness. In its place...

In its place was concern and warmth and something else she couldn’t quite pin down—but it made her stomach curl and warmed the toes she hadn’t even realised were cold.

‘The nurse has informed me that she is in a stable condition.’

Oh, that accent! When he wasn’t playing the role of demanding boss or avenging angel... A shiver rippled through her. Yes, that accent could do the strangest things to a woman’s insides.

‘So why all this worry?’

She leapt up to stride across the room. ‘Because that’s all they’ve told me too!’ She strode back again. ‘What they haven’t told me is if her baby is all right.’

He stared up at her, but she couldn’t read his expression.

Very gently he pulled her back down beside him. ‘Yes, I can see why that would be important. I will make a deal with you, Ms Wynne Antonia Stephens.’

He didn’t use an ominous tone, and the way his mouth shaped her full name, with the smallest of smiles playing across his lips, made her pulse race.

‘A deal?’

‘The minute you finish your cup of tea I will go and find out all I can about Serena and her baby.’

She stared at him, liking this new, improved version of her boss. But... ‘What makes you think they’ll tell you anything?’

He raised a supercilious eyebrow and she found herself having to choke back a laugh. This was a man used to getting his own way. Tomorrow that might be devastating. Today, however, it would be useful—very useful.

She pulled the lid off her cup. ‘Xavier Mateo Ramos, you have yourself a deal.’

When she smiled at him he smiled back, and the day didn’t seem so bleak and dark. Somewhere a ray of hope shone amid the dark gloom of worry.

‘You must not gulp it down in one go,’ he ordered. ‘It will be very hot.’

And sweet. She tried not to grimace as she took her first sip. Maybe he thought she needed sweetening. She thought back over their conversation in the conference room earlier and conceded that he might have a point. She really needed to work on her deference and being tactful skills.

She bit back a sigh and took another sip of her tea. ‘I’m sorry, Xavier. This isn’t what I had planned for your first day.’

‘It is not your fault.’ He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You were quite amazing, you know—very calm and collected.’

She’d felt like jelly inside. ‘So were you.’

‘But you knew what to do. I did not.’

She’d bet that didn’t happen very often. It wouldn’t be particularly tactful to point that out, though. Still, it was nice to have some evidence that he wasn’t totally invulnerable.

‘Serena is one of our regulars, so I know her situation.’

‘Her diabetes and her pregnancy?’

Her heart started to pound again. Please let Serena’s baby be safe.

‘Tell me your procedure in such cases. You obviously have one.’

‘Cases like this are rare, thankfully.’

‘Why did April come and get you? She must clean occupied rooms all the time.’

‘We have a policy that if the Do Not Disturb sign is on the door for too long two staff members should be present when entering the room.’ And, given April’s criminal record, Wynne had no intention of placing her housekeeping manager in a potentially compromising situation.

Xavier nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I can see how that would be wise.’

‘April had Tina ring through to the room first, but when there was no answer...’

‘She came and got you?’

Wynne nodded.

He stared at her, a frown in his eyes. ‘I do not understand why April was concerned enough to raise the alarm.’

Oh. ‘Like I said, Serena is a regular. She’s a hair and make-up artist and she was in the Gold Coast for a fashion show yesterday—she does a lot of them. She normally checks out at ten on the dot. She’d made no other changes to her usual routine—her breakfast was delivered at seven-thirty—and as it was after eleven...’

‘So...’ Xavier pursed his lips. ‘You choose to risk invoking your clients’ wrath—which you might have done if Serena Gladstone had simply been seeking quiet and solitude—in the interests of ensuring their wellbeing?’

That was a no-brainer! ‘Yes.’

He leant back and sipped his tea. ‘It is lucky for Serena that you chose the less professional option.’

Was he criticising her? He couldn’t be serious?

Bite your tongue, Wynne Antonia Stephens. Pick your battles.

‘How long would you have left it?’ She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice.

‘I hire staff to make those decisions for me.’

Do you feel safe and smug, tucked up in that ivory tower of yours?

She bit her tongue until she tasted blood. She wanted to bring this conversation to a close. Now. She lifted her cup and drained the rest of the awful tea. Oddly, though, both the liquid and the sugar had made her feel better.

She handed him her cup. ‘I’ve kept my side of the deal.’