‘We hold a big charity event in Argentina every year at the estancia,’ Diego explained as they started off down the path.
Maxie’s mind automatically switched to business, and was soon filled with plans to ship things out to South America, along with the additional complication of sourcing dependable operatives without actually meeting them.
Argentina …
‘I take it you’re pleased with my work?’ She had to bat away seductive images of the wild pampas, and everything that went with it.
‘Holly’s very pleased with the work you’ve done here,’ Diego explained. ‘She’s passed on that enthusiasm to the family. They want you to run things for us—as I do.’
‘How can I help?’ she said, desperately hanging on to a hank of mane as Diego urged their horses into a trot.
‘Think Mardi Gras—parades, floats, stalls, fireworks and music … lots of music,’ he called back over his shoulder, encouraging their horses to go faster.
‘Mardi Gras is a little out of my range,’ Maxie admitted hanging on for dear life.
‘That’s something that can be addressed, surely?’ Diego countered.
‘Can we slow down if we’re going to discuss this? It’s hard to talk when my teeth are clattering like castanets.’
‘Of course,’ Diego agreed with an amused look. ‘Though all I need to know at this point is do you want the job or not, Maxie?’
‘I’d love to pitch for it,’ she admitted. With most of the loose ends tied up here, there was that gap in her schedule.
‘I think you can take it you’re the preferred supplier.’
‘That’s great.’ She could hardly refuse another big job. ‘I’ve just got one reservation.’
‘Name it.’
‘Will it include a polo match?’
‘Of course.’ Diego laughed. ‘But we’ll handle that. You just have to do everything else.’
‘So, let me get this straight. You want me to arrange a charity event in Argentina the same way I’ve handled Holly’s wedding—that is to say by e-mail and by phone?’ She was already setting up the building blocks in her mind, Maxie realised. Apart from her personal concerns she would never refuse to help a worthy cause unless it was absolutely unavoidable.
‘I was thinking of something rather more hands-on than that,’ Diego admitted, slanting a look at her.
‘Like what?’ Maxie’s antennae were already pinging warnings.
‘You’d have to come to Argentina so you can see for yourself what has to be done.’
Her heart was banging in her chest, and it took her a jolting bounce or two before she was ready to speak. ‘I’m afraid I can’t,’ she said then.
‘Why not?’ Diego demanded.
‘Because my responsibilities keep me at home—I have a business to run.’
‘Which you have proved you can run from anywhere in the world. Argentina is hardly as isolated as this island.’
And it was a great opportunity. So why did she feel that same shiver of apprehension, as if invisible walls were closing round her?
‘You won’t even have to sail a boat to get there,’ Diego was telling her. ‘I’ll fly you there in the jet.’
‘How exciting.’ Under other circumstances she might have been overwhelmed by Diego’s offer—but right now? She would be on his territory, and a long way from home.
But then he hit her with the clincher. ‘Holly will be in Argentina at the same time as you, and as she travels the world with my brother this might be the only chance you two get to meet face to face before the wedding. My family needs you in Argentina, Maxie. And don’t forget I need my therapist,’ he added with a grin. ‘Come on,’ he pressed. ‘Why the hesitation? Is it really so hard to visit Buenos Aires and the pampas and earn lots of money? You can’t let us down,’ he added, baiting her with his dark, intense stare. ‘I’ve told my brothers all about your magic hands and they can’t wait to meet you.’
Oh, great. The thought of meeting the Acostas en masse was daunting enough without that. Yes, but how many years of fees at the nursing home would a commission like this pay? Could she afford to refuse Diego’s offer if it secured her father’s future?
‘You’re making good progress with your riding,’ Diego observed, forcing her back to full attention. ‘I think you’re safe to go a little faster.’
‘No,’ she exclaimed.
‘Do you mean the riding or the event?’ Diego called over his shoulder.
‘I’m happy to accept the job,’ she called back tensely. ‘Excellent. I’m sure you won’t disappoint us, Maxie.’
‘I never accept a commission unless I’m sure I can exceed a client’s expectations.’
But this time she might have bitten off more than she could chew, Maxie conceded when she saw the expression on Diego’s face.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAXIE felt as if the common sense she had lived by all her life was being jangled out of every one of her bones as her pony picked up speed to keep up with Diego’s stallion.
‘You’ll find it easier if you move up and down like this,’ Diego said as he demonstrated a rising trot. ‘Keep it easy and relaxed, Maxie. Roll your hips like me.’
That settled it. ‘I don’t need to come to Argentina to do this job for you.’
‘Of course you do,’ Diego argued firmly.
‘But I can organise everything from a distance,’ Maxie protested. Accepting Diego’s invitation would be madness, she realised, trying not to watch his muscular hips effortlessly thrusting back and forth.
‘How can you possibly imagine the scale of the celebrations we’re planning unless you come over?’ he said.
True, Maxie conceded worriedly. So it would have to be a short visit—just long enough to take a look-see and get out with her heart intact. ‘It shouldn’t take me too long,’ she mused out loud.
‘Good. I’m glad that’s settled,’ Diego agreed.
‘Can we slow down now?’
‘I thought you liked speed?’ Diego shouted back.
‘I like control better,’ she countered. And right now she was in danger of losing control of both the horse and her life. And that wasn’t a situation she could allow to continue.
‘Relax and it will all be fine,’ Diego assured her, reining in alongside.
Was he talking about the horse or the charity event? But wasn’t she a co-ordinator of fabulous events for other people to enjoy? This job in Argentina would take her business global, providing security for both Maxie and her father. She couldn’t afford to turn it down. She’d call the nursing home as soon as they got back. Depending on the news on that front, she’d make a final decision. Caring for her father always posed a dilemma. If she didn’t travel for her work she couldn’t afford his fees at the nursing home, but when she travelled away from home she felt guilty.
‘Stop dreaming, Maxie, and catch up.’
Diego had stopped beneath the sheltering canopy of a jacaranda tree. The frowzy purple blossom, dislodged by the wind, was drifting round him, creating a deceptively soft and dreamlike scene—but this was business, Maxie reminded herself as Diego explained that she would have the considerable weight of the Acosta name behind her in Argentina.
‘I’ve done very well so far,’ she said wryly, ‘but I’d appreciate any help you can give me. A charity event on the scale you’re proposing will need quite a bit of thinking about, and I want to check a few things before I give you my final answer.’
‘Don’t take too long,’ Diego warned.
‘Hey!’ she protested, when he turned his horse and nudged it from a standstill into a canter and her horse followed.
‘Have some confidence,’ he called back. Maxie was a natural horsewoman. It was something in the hips. His lips tugged in a smile. He was enjoying this uncomplicated time together, but something told him it wouldn’t last long.
The trip to Argentina went without a hitch. Maxie’s contacts had been able to put her in touch with people in Buenos Aires, and the n
ursing home had given her the nod, so she was good to go. Diego had promised to introduce her to people who might be able to help her business further and was full of practical advice. There was no danger to her heart at all—which should have reassured her, but which left her with a niggling sense of regret.
The jet landed in brilliant sunshine, and her head was soon spinning with all the new sights and sounds. The thought of visiting not just Buenos Aires, the Paris of South America, but the pampas, with the most exciting man she had ever known, was exciting. She would soon grow accustomed to the seductive samba rhythms and the intoxicating scent of spice and heat and passion, Maxie reassured herself as Diego strolled towards a sleek black limousine.
So why the sense of doom approaching?
‘Please excuse me, Maxie,’ he said, fielding a call as they settled into the limousine with what seemed like acres of kidskin between them.
‘No problem,’ she murmured, knowing she would probably have to take quite a few business calls herself before they arrived at their destination.
One of the first things she noticed as they drove out of the airport was the colossal billboards lining the road. It was the first inkling she had of Diego’s place in Argentina. The billboards featured the impossibly good-looking Acosta brothers. She recognised the groom, Ruiz, right away—smiling down with confidence. Diego’s older brother, Nacho, appeared aloof. Kruz looked so laid back it was hard to imagine him in polo-warrior mode. And then there was Diego.
The same apprehension she’d felt when she got off the plane was back again, because Diego radiated danger. It was something in his eyes, Maxie concluded, glancing sideways at him. There were ghosts in Diego’s life she couldn’t begin to understand, and as theirs was a business relationship she could hardly ask him. He was still very much a mystery man, dangerously attractive and maybe dangerous to know. She wouldn’t like to be his opponent on the polo field, or anywhere else for that matter, that was for sure.
‘We’ll be staying in Buenos Aires for a couple of nights,’ he explained, stowing his phone. ‘You’ll get a chance to familiarise yourself with the city and with our usual suppliers. Then we’ll travel to the estancia and you’ll get the chance to see your first polo match. A friendly with Nero.’
Maxie laughed. ‘Is there such a thing as a friendly polo match?’
Diego’s mouth tugged fractionally. ‘You’ll soon find out.’
‘Nero must be a good friend?’
‘One of my closest. I trust him to tell me—’
Diego stopped and stared away, but she knew what he had been about to say. Nero would tell Diego if he was up to playing at international level. ‘Either way it will be an important match,’ she said.
‘The most important,’ Diego confirmed.
He didn’t need to tell her that the chance to play at international level again meant everything to him. She knew as soon as he could after the accident Diego had been back on a horse, and he’d been training relentlessly ever since. His leg was so much better now she was sure he had nothing to worry about.
After they had been driving for a while he asked the driver to pull over. ‘Empanadas,’ he said, pointing to a street stall. ‘Delicious little savoury pastries,’ he explained. ‘You’ll love them, Maxie. I’m starving. You must be too.’
‘I’m always ready to eat,’ she agreed with a smile. Diego was like a different man in Argentina. She should stop with the niggling doubts and make the most of this opportunity to do business with a man like no other. It would be something to hold on to when she went home to men with office pallor and perpetual sniffles, though she couldn’t help wishing that Diego had shown some inclination to kiss her again.
She laughed when he bought up half the stall. ‘This is crazy,’ she said as he shrugged, but the tiny pastries were delicious, and it was fun being together and relaxed for a change. She was amazed by how quickly people recognised Diego, and autograph-hunters were soon clustering round. ‘How do you cope?’ she asked him when they got back in the car.
‘I owe my success to these people,’ he said, dipping his head to wave out of the window. ‘I play to win for them.’
But when they drove off again, and a shadow crossed his face, she knew Diego was worrying that he might not live up to everyone’s expectations. He was returning to polo after a long time out through injury.
‘I’ll work on your leg right up to the match,’ she promised impulsively.
‘I’m counting on it,’ he said.
His dark, amused gaze made her heart thump like a jack-hammer. She was only doing a friend a favour, she reasoned, smoothing her jeans as an excuse to break eye contact. She had never risked getting too close to anyone, and she wasn’t getting close now. None of her relationships had lasted—partly because she’d chosen the wrong men, but mostly because she had never forgotten the way her father had treated her mother. Yes, her father had changed when her mother had become ill, but it would have been nice for her mother to have had some happiness before that.
When Diego glanced at her, as if suspecting she was visiting some past regret, she only wished she could explain what she was thinking. But they weren’t close enough for that—plus theirs was now a business relationship, and Diego had as many secrets as she did, Maxie suspected.
‘We’ll be staying at my apartment in the city,’ he explained, providing a welcome distraction. ‘You’ll have your own suite of rooms, and can come and go as you like while you’re in Buenos Aires.’
She had rather hoped Diego would show her round.
She pulled back when he suddenly wiped one firm thumb pad across the full swell of her bottom lip. ‘Crumbs,’ he explained.
The pastries, Maxie realised with embarrassment. ‘Is that it? Or am I covered in crumbs?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Diego murmured, his firm mouth tugging with amusement. ‘I can only see those on your mouth.’
And now her face was burning. Diego had definitely relaxed since they’d landed. Was he intentionally turning up the heat?
Whatever was happening, she had to keep her feet on the ground. She had a job to do, and for all she knew Diego had a squad of girlfriends waiting in Buenos Aires with another team on standby at the estancia. A man like Diego Acosta would hardly be without a significant other.
An idea she should waste no time getting used to, Maxie concluded when their limousine stopped at a junction and a group of young girls, spotting Diego, started making remarks and frowning as they tried to work out who he was with. Maxie couldn’t blame them for dismissing her. In his blue jeans, dark jacket and crisp white shirt, Diego looked like a film star—while if she was really lucky she might get a job sweeping the set. It was a relief when they drove off again.
‘Tell me how I can help you while you’re here?’ Diego suggested, seemingly oblivious to all the attention.
Maxie thought for a moment before speaking. ‘I’d like you to give me a taste of Buenos Aires.’
‘I’ll try to give you more than you expect.’
That was what she was afraid of. ‘Like what?’ she asked.
‘I think you should wait and see. We’ll drop our things off at the apartment and then I’ll take you into town and you can pick up something special to wear tonight.’
‘For what occasion?’
‘Business, of course!’ Diego laughed: a flash of white teeth against his tan.
This sounded like business of a type she was unfamiliar with, Maxie concluded.
Diego’s apartment in the best part of town was off-the-scale fabulous. His penthouse occupied the entire top floor of an elegant historic building. When they’d reached it, in a private elevator with an ornate wrought-iron door, they stepped out into an airy lobby with a domed ceiling that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Vatican. Grand double doors at one end of this spacious hallway had just been swung wide by a smiling middle-aged woman.
‘My housekeeper, Adriana,’ Diego explained.
Adriana ushered Maxie
into a light-filled world, packed with sleek modern furniture and the latest high-tech gizmos. Very Diego, Maxie thought as she took in the striking décor of stark white walls punctuated by vivid flourishes of modern art. Floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room took in both the new and the venerably old buildings that comprised the exciting cityscape of Buenos Aires.
‘This is stunning,’ Maxie exclaimed, looking around.
‘I call it home.’
‘Lucky you.’ Diego was so confident and overwhelming, while she was … overwhelmed. She took in the pale leather sofas, smoky glass tables, and the stainless steel conversation pieces at a glance. There was everything here a wealthy man might need. She was relieved to hear that Adriana lived on site, as she had no intention of becoming another of the home comforts Diego so obviously took for granted.
‘Adriana will show you to your room,’ Diego explained. ‘Please make yourself at home, Maxie.’
It might take more than a single visit to feel at home in a place like this, Maxie concluded as the smiling housekeeper led her down a stylish corridor lined with discreetly framed pen and ink drawings of polo ponies.
The suite of rooms would easily have gobbled up Maxie’s small house in London with room to spare. There was a large bedroom with a walk-in wardrobe, as well as a sitting room and a fantastic cream marble bathroom. She’d take a quick shower and then go shopping, Maxie decided. She had to make a start on filling those wardrobes—not to mention the shoe rack. Well, if she tried really hard she might actually manage to fill one small corner …
‘Do you have everything you need?’ She whirled around to find Diego at the door. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Good. I’ll leave you to settle in and then I’ll take you into town. See you in the hall in half an hour?’
‘Thank you.’
She couldn’t pretend the thought of going out with Diego didn’t make her pulse race. She took a long, hot shower and then changed into casual clothes.
When Diego turned the corner into the hall and walked towards her she had to accept that seeing him never got any easier. Diego had also taken a shower, and his thick black hair was still damp and curled attractively around his face and neck.
The Argentinian's Solace Page 9