Crazy about her Spanish Boss. Rebecca Winters
patio.
Jillian looked away, but it wasn’t fast enough for him to catch her staring. His black trunks rode low on his hips, revealing most of his well-cut physique to her vision.
He reached for a towel hanging over the back of one of the chairs to dry off. The whiteness of the material looked exaggerated against the dark gold of his olive skinned body. His house might be a great work of art, but so was he.
“I would have invited you to join me, but Dr. Filartigua says no swimming, at least until he sees you again.” He tossed the towel aside and shrugged into a short-sleeved cotton shirt he left unbuttoned. “Come and sit down.” He pulled a chair away from the square-tiled table to help her.
“Thank you.”
No sooner did he pull another chair around for himself than a dark-haired woman probably Jillian’s age approached carrying a tray of food and drinks. Her curious brown eyes looked at both of them before she set it down on the table.
“Gracias, Soraya. Please meet my guest, Senora Jillian Gray.”
She lifted her head. “How do you do, Senora.”
“Soraya and her husband and children live in the house to the south of the courtyard.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Soraya.”
Remi lifted everything off the tray before handing it back to her. His gaze swerved to Jillian. “Soraya is Paco and Maria’s married daughter. She has two children, eight and six. Before the day is out you’ll meet them and her husband, Miguel.”
Jillian smiled at her. “I have a niece and nephew whom I miss terribly. What are your children’s names?”
“Marcia and Nina.”
“Perhaps you should warn them my eye got poked by some glass so they won’t be scared when they first meet me and think I’m some kind of alien from outer space.”
At Soraya’s puzzled expression Remi translated for her. A smile broke out on her pretty face. She said something back in rapid Spanish. He turned to Jillian. “She says her girls will think you look like Cinderella.”
“You mean from the fractured fairy tale version,” she fairly mumbled so the other woman wouldn’t pick up her words. She had to jest or go a little mad waiting for the result of her checkup next week.
Any light from Remi’s gaze faded before he declared, “Senora Gray says you’re too kind, Soraya.”
Jillian’s bad manners had not amused him. Horrified by her gaffe, she looked up at the other woman and nodded. What else could she do?
As soon as Maria’s daughter left them alone, Remi began eating as if nothing had happened.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’ve been wondering when you would vent. It had to happen sometime. You wouldn’t be human otherwise. We can only carry pain inside us for so long.”
Her hand twisted the corner of the cloth napkin into a wad. “But not at Soraya’s expense.”
“She doesn’t know enough English to have understood. No harm done.”
“But you won’t forget. After everything you’ve done for me, I’m ashamed.”
He drank from his water goblet, then leveled his glance on her. “Don’t be. I assume you would have made the same remark to your brother in front of her. Since I promised to stand in for him, it must mean I’m doing an adequate job.”
Ping. Did you hear what he just said, Jillian?
“The next time I talk to Dave, I’ll tell him that being taken care of by Senor Goyo is like having another protective brother around. I couldn’t possibly be in better hands.”
If she truly looked on him the way she did Dave, she wouldn’t have given it a thought, but that wasn’t the case. To be this aware of Remi was pure torture and she still had the rest of the day to get through before someone drove her back to Madrid.
She thought, of course, her comment would have pleased him, but those shuttered eyes revealed nothing to her gaze. He continued to eat without saying anything. Maybe she’d better concentrate on the food before he thought she wasn’t hungry after all.
Trying not to look at him sitting there with a portion of his tanned chest showing, she took her first bites of food. “Um…is this lamb?”
“Sí, Senora. It’s called cuchifrito.”
“And what’s the other dish?”
“Queso manchego, a local cheese specialty made from ewe’s milk.”
“Everything’s delicious.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Though he seemed to have a healthy appetite, there was an awkward silence between them she didn’t know how to breach. It was her fault. Not knowing what else to do, she ate everything on her plate before putting down her fork.
“Remi?” she said at last. Her nerves were too frayed to sit there much longer like this. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?” He hadn’t broached the subject yet, but maybe talking about business would get them on a better footing.
“Before a discussion can take place, you need to tour the estate. If you’re up to it, we’ll get started. I need to change and will meet you in the courtyard in fifteen minutes.”
He put his napkin down and rose to his feet. She had the impression he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “Stay here and enjoy the dessert that’s coming. Normally we would serve you oranges, a tradition of the Goyas. However, I asked Maria to prepare something unique for you.”
She flashed him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension. “Another specialty of the region?”
“That’s right. When you’ve finished, tell me if you don’t prefer chocolate mousse made with olive oil rather than butter.” On that parting note he disappeared through an alcove.
It turned out Jillian was late joining him.
The mousse was out of this world. She ended up following Soraya into the kitchen to have a discussion with Maria about how she’d made it. Jillian learned they used olive oil for everything.
“In Spain we’re surrounded with olive groves, not dairy land.” Her explanation made perfect sense.
“Did you put a little almond in the mousse?”
“No. Our olives have a fruity taste.”
Fabulous. Jillian had cooked with Goyo oil many times, but hadn’t realized how that particular flavor would come out in the chocolate. “I’d love to stay in here and talk, but the Senor is waiting. Thank you for the wonderful meal.”
“Thank you for the flowers.” She’d put them on a side table beneath the arched window.
After nodding to both women she hurried through the casa to get her digital camera. Then she ran out to the courtyard. Remi and one of his staff stood against the door of a truck with their heads together. He broke off talking when he saw her and moved toward her wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt his build did amazing things for.
“I’m sorry I’m late, but there was a reason,” she explained nervously.
His worried gaze swept over her. “If you’re too tired or hot, we can put this off.”
“If you must know, I was in the kitchen talking to Maria and the time got away from us.”
At her explanation, the frown lines around his eyes cleared up. “This is her husband, Paco.” He made the introductions.
Jillian shook the foreman’s hand. He had a full head of glistening black hair and was attractive like Diego. The Spanish were beautiful people.