challenged him. Yet this kid had jumped right in!
‘Whoa—slow down,’ she said, grabbing his arm as he stamped down on the gas.
He glanced at the tiny hand on his arm. She looked too, and quickly withdrew it. ‘I thought you liked speed?’ he mocked her, in a pointed reminder of her claim to ride a motorbike at home.
‘I ride my bike responsibly,’ she said mildly.
She wasn’t scared to take him on.
Seducing the wedding planner had never been part of his plan. It still wasn’t. He must have too much time on his hands even to let thoughts like that occur to him. The type of woman he favoured was older and knew the score. She knew how to dress and what to say. More importantly, she knew when to remain quiet. She did not look like a fresh-faced tomboy, who dressed like a boy and insisted on speaking to him like a man.
‘Are you all right, Fernando?’ She had turned to check on the elderly skipper.
‘My apologies if I woke you, Fernando,’ he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
The old man was more interested in hearing what Maxie had to say. ‘Soy muy bien … Gracias, Maxie,’ he was saying, in a fonder tone than Diego had heard him use before.
When the girl had settled back in her seat she shot a glance at him. Was she reassuring him that Fernando was okay? Or was she playing it her way and to hell with him? She might look like a kid, but there was a lot going on behind that shrewd grey gaze, and he couldn’t help wondering what other surprises Ms Parrish had in store for him.
‘And when exactly did you learn to skipper a boat?’
‘I helped to crew a yacht once—a friend at school. Her father was mad for sailing.’
He shot her a look that suggested she was mad. He couldn’t believe she had thought it safe to transfer such tenuous experience to the open ocean in a barely seaworthy tub, but it told him something about her. She wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Her cheeks pinked up when she caught his cold, assessing stare. Those pink cheeks told him everything he needed to know. Maxie Parrish might think she had all the answers, but she had none where he was concerned.
A client was always right. A client’s brother-in-law-to-be had rights also—just so long as Diego Acosta didn’t mistake her for a doormat. He had begun questioning her again about how she had grown the business so quickly. His lack of confidence in her was no big deal. It took time to win a client over. And, in his favour, the fact that this wedding was so important to him showed a strong family bond between Diego and his brother Ruiz.
‘I had arranged quite a few weddings already when I was asked to plan one for a friend who works in television. She was so thrilled by the results that when she returned from honeymoon she asked if I could present a wedding feature for Valentine’s Day—the perfect wedding, that sort of thing. Everything took off from there and I haven’t looked back since.’
‘But you haven’t organised a wedding on a small island, where deliveries are uncertain and the electricity supply is erratic at best,’ he pointed out.
‘That’s true. But generators can be hired, and I would have any supplies we need shipped over well in advance. I’m happy to take on the challenge.’
‘I’m sure you are. And you’re nothing if not prepared.’ He shot a glance at her wet clothes.
‘Had I known I would be sailing a boat today, I would have worn something more appropriate.’
‘Why were you in charge of the boat?’ He glanced at Fernando through the rearview mirror.
Maxie checked too, only to find Fernando was snoring again. ‘Fernando was feeling a little unwell and I was glad to help out.’ She left it there. Maybe Diego Acosta was trying to catch her out or embarrass her, but whatever his motive she wasn’t going to land Fernando in trouble. ‘I enjoyed the experience,’ she said, brushing it off as if the terrifying voyage through raging seas had been nothing to her, ‘and I never make the same mistake twice.’
‘I should hope not,’ Diego Acosta replied.
For some reason she was staring at his lips. She quickly looked away. She might be soaking wet and freezing, but her body was distinctly warm. ‘If Holly decides to hold her wedding here and we encounter any problems, rest assured. I will deal with them.’
‘That’s what you’re being paid for, isn’t it?’
Diego Acosta grimaced and eased his leg as he spoke. She’d already worked out his mood was largely affected by pain or lack of it. ‘It is what I’m being paid for,’ she confirmed. And now she was wondering why, with all the money in the world to buy the best treatment available, the injury was still troubling him. And if it hurt so much why didn’t he just take something for the pain, like everyone else?
‘If this job is going to be too much for you, I’d rather you said so now,’ he said, throwing her a lifeline she was supposed to grab eagerly and with gratitude, Maxie suspected.
‘I always make a full evaluation before I come to any decision,’ she explained calmly.
Her work as a wedding planner gave her such an intimate window into people’s lives it wouldn’t be the first time she had been invited in only for a client to draw back and ask themselves if this stranger would be sensitive to their needs, or if their most intimate secrets were about to be raked over and exposed to public scrutiny. Just because Diego Acosta was a testosterone-packed hunk it didn’t mean she would treat him any differently from the rest.
‘I think I’ve already explained that I won’t need to trouble you for most of my time here.’
‘If you stay on the island,’ he said, as if this was by no means certain.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ she countered, careful to keep her tone bland and friendly. ‘Judging by your earlier remarks, I assume you wouldn’t want Fernando risking his fishing boat a second time in a storm.’
The elderly skipper chose that moment to stop snoring, and lost no time endorsing her words with heartfelt agreement. Maxie guessed Fernando was in no hurry to leave Isla del Fuego until he had received some coddling from Diego Acosta’s staff.
‘If there’s a hotel here,’ she added, ‘I don’t even need to trouble you for a room.’
‘This is a small private island, with a small resident community,’ Diego Acosta pointed out. ‘There are no hotels, as such.’
‘Perhaps bed and breakfast in a private house?’ Maxie suggested hopefully.
‘You will find no fairy godmothers on Isla del Fuego with rooms to spare, Señorita Parrish,’ Acosta informed her.
No wonder. If there had been a fairy godmother her wand would have withered to a twig by now.
‘You will stay with me,’ he said, with zero enthusiasm.
Maxie’s throat dried. Stay with him? Yes, it made sense, but—
When in doubt, smile and say thank you. That was the advice she always gave to anxious brides. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, and as that seemed
