“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.”
“My husband taught me some moves.”
A strange sound came from his throat. “Now you’ve made me curious. When you are feeling stronger and the doctors say you can lower your head below your heart, you’ll have to use me for a demonstration.”
She turned to look out the passenger window. “I didn’t say they worked on everyone.”
“Shall we agree to reserve judgment until then?” he queried silkily.
They’d left the city and were traveling on the open road toward Toledo. She felt so alive it was painful. Somehow she needed to get hold of herself. When Remi had been wiping her tears a little while ago out of comfort, she’d come close to burying her face in his neck. She’d wanted to touch him.
The next time one of her friends tried to line her up, Jillian had better accept. Otherwise she was going to deserve the labels put on widows who couldn’t control themselves when the first temptation came their way.
Except that he wasn’t offering to satisfy her physical needs, not in that way. Since talking only seemed to get her into more trouble, she rested her head against the corner of the window and closed her eyes.
If Remi didn’t keep his eyes straight ahead, there was going to be another accident in the same place on the highway. She insisted she’d never felt better, yet she’d been asleep for well over an hour. Jillian Gray needed many things, but above all she required rest. He would make certain she got it.
Her bravado only increased his fear that even a partial recovery from that freakish eye injury might not happen. When he’d heard her laughter in the face of such a possible loss, it ripped him apart. The idea of a patch covering up one of those beautiful eyes produced a groan from him. Unfortunately it was loud enough that Jillian’s eyelid fluttered open. She looked the slightest bit disoriented.
“Welcome back, Senora.”
Recovering quickly, she straightened in the seat. “H-how long have I been asleep?”
“We’re almost to the entrance of the estate.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“After what you’ve been through, I can.” After a few more kilometers, he swung the car beneath the Gothic-type arched gate she’d passed two days ago.
Jillian undid her seat belt as they drove into a large, deep courtyard flanked by two residences reminiscent of the Ottoman Empire. The larger one beyond the fountain was a small palace. She gasped at the unmatchable plasterwork of the Mudejar style. Never had she seen more exquisite brick ornamentation.
“How absolutely beautiful …”
In her mind’s eye she could picture those elegant Spanish carriages from the past pulled by dark spotted Appaloosa horses circling the ornate fountain in the center. To think Remi had been born here … all the fabulous tile work … the detail … roses everywhere …
She turned her head toward him. “When was your home built?”
“1610, to be exact.”
Jillian shook her head in disbelief.
