At His Service: Flirting with the Boss. Rebecca Winters
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Don was a word used for a titled person in Spain. Now that she thought about it she remembered seeing a coat of arms emblazoned in the tile work of the arched gate.
“Senor Goyo?” At the sound of her voice, he turned in her direction. “Are you Don Remigio?”
“Sí?”
He moved toward her. “My name’s Remi,” he reminded her in a low tone before reaching for the phone.
Yes, she knew that, but having learned he was an aristocrat, it put everything on a slightly different footing. Again she felt the warmth of his fingers and trembled as he took his cell from her. It had to be the operation making her senses come alive to him. Since Kyle’s death she hadn’t looked at another man. She couldn’t.
Her husband had been an attractive, russet-haired guy with warm brown eyes she’d met working for EuropaUltimate Tours. Three inches taller than her five-foot-six frame, they’d been a perfect fit in every way and had married within six months. They’d been so happy, she’d never imagined the day coming when it would all end without warning.
That’s the way her accident had happened. One minute she was driving along the highway, excited by her latest idea for a new tour. The next minute a stranger was carrying her from the wreck, urging her not to touch her injured eye. He was a man with supreme confidence who knew exactly what to do and had managed to keep her fear from escalating out of control.
CHAPTER TWO
JILLIAN STRAINED to hear his side of the conversation with her brother, but it was difficult because he’d turned his back toward her. Maybe the action was unintentional, but it frustrated her, particularly since she was helplessly drawn to the play of muscle across his broad shoulders.
There she went again noticing everything about this remarkable stranger who lit his own fires in a crisis while others just stood around reeling in confusion. No one else could have summoned a helicopter that fast.
The nurse chose that moment to come in and take her vital signs. Before the other woman left the room, she moved the rolling table forward so Jillian could eat her breakfast.
Halfway through her breakfast Remi walked over and handed her back the phone. “Your brother wants to say goodbye.”
What had they been talking about for such a long time? She lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, thanks for remembering you wanted to talk to me,” she teased.
“Remi told me you were being examined. Naturally I wanted to thank him for everything he’s done for you. I’m trying to make arrangements to fly over.”
“Don’t come, Dave. I’ll be flying back to New York as soon as I’m discharged. Luckily I’m in Madrid, where I’m already ticketed.”
“How can you leave? Remi told me the doctor expects to see you back in his office in a week.”
She flashed a covert glance to the arresting male standing next to her bed. He seemed to know a lot more about her situation than she did.
“That’s not a problem, Dave. I’ll go to an eye surgeon in New York for a checkup. Right now I’ve got work to do. I’ll slip up to Albany in a couple of weeks.”
“Let me talk to Remi again, Jilly.”
No way. She loved her overprotective brother, but he went too far. She felt guilty enough the owner of Soleado Goyo had felt compelled to spend the night with her. Kyle had told her she snored. How embarrassing.
“Tell the children I bought some souvenirs I know they’ll love, and I found the most beautiful christening outfit for the baby in Coimbra. I picked up something for you, too, but it’s a surprise. See you soon. Love you.”
On that note she pressed the disconnect button and handed the phone to the man whose black gaze flickered over her without letting her know what he was thinking.
She pinned him with her good eye. His dark vital presence stood out against the sterile background of her room. “When did you speak to the doctor?”
“Right after your surgery.”
“I’d like to talk to him about getting out of here.”
“You just woke up.”
Jillian drew in a deep breath. “I feel good. It isn’t as if I was knocked unconscious or anything. Thanks to you the best surgeon has operated on my eye. I’m not even in pain. I’ll go crazy if I just have to lie here. If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t stand for it, either.”
The furrow between those black brows deepened. “How do you know that?”
“Because the second you’re not busy you start pacing around.”
His eyes mirrored a faint respect for her observation.
“I recognize the signs, Senor, believe me. The fact is I’m made the same way you are. No doubt you’re dying to get back to your olive groves, but your sense of responsibility to me has kept you here. I’m sorry for that.”
He put a hand behind his neck and rubbed it absently. “Who told you the nature of my business?”
“No one. When Dave said your last name was Goyo, I realized you had to be the owner of Soleado Goyo.” And a very important person.
She knew she’d caught his interest by the way he shifted his weight. “You’re familiar with the brand?”
“I’ve cooked with your olive oil many times. In my opinion it’s unmatched. While I was driving past all those olive groves yesterday, I slowed down to ask a worker about them.”
“No one told me.”
“I don’t know why they would. I—”
But before she could finish her explanation, a man in a moustache and a blue summer suit walked in the room. He nodded to Senor Goyo. “Good morning, Senora Gray. I’m Dr. Filartigua.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been hoping you would come in. Thank you for operating on me. I know I’m very lucky.”
“That’s my job. How are you feeling?”
“Well enough to leave.”
“I’m gratified to hear it, but I insist you stay an extra day to give your body a chance to get over the shock of the accident.”
“I feel fine, Doctor. I need to get back to my job in New York right away.”
He shook his head. “No flying for a month.”
“A month—”
“The air pressure changes on a jet could cause problems. You want to heal as quickly as possible, don’t you?”
She fought not to cry out her disappointment. “Of course.”
“You can do normal activities, but no driving on your own. I’ll take a look at your eye in