Javier shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other, tucking the monogrammed case beside a seat. Defined muscles rippled under his wool suit—vicuña. She still remembered the feel of the exclusive texture in her hands as she tore the clothes from his body.
She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. His coal-black hair was swept back from his broad forehead. The sharp angles of his face spoke of his aristocratic heritage. Javier Cortez had—no kidding—royal Medina blood coursing through his veins. His uncle had ruled a small island country off the coast of Spain until a violent coup more than twenty-five years ago.
The Medinas and their Cortez relatives had lived in anonymity until recently when the press had caught wind of their royal roots.
Not that she’d cared a bit about his blue blood—not then, and not now. She’d cared about the man. The recent media exposé on his family had etched stress lines in the corners of Javier’s eyes. Not that he would ever admit to any vulnerability.
His family may have relocated to America, but his regal Castilian heritage couldn’t be denied. And his raw magnetism couldn’t be missed.
A shiver of awareness, of desire, skittered up her spine. How would she maintain the necessary distance from him until they reached Florida?
Her mouth went dry as he stopped beside her seat. The spicy scent of his bay rum soap drifted along the recycled air.
“Why are you here?” he demanded.
“You remember me?” She couldn’t resist the jab, given how unemotionally he’d walked toward her.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He waved aside the barb with an autocratic flick of his hand. “And don’t be coy. Why are you here?”
Irritation simmered.
“I live in Boston. If anything, I should be asking you the question.”
“This is a Medina plane, and you, Victoria Palmer, are not a Medina.”
“But I am, once again, on the Medina payroll. Your uncle hired me to help with his nursing care. With his sons visiting, he wants to make the most of his time with them.”
Enrique Medina was slowly dying of liver failure caused by injuries he’d suffered while on the run from the rebels who’d ousted him from his homeland of San Rinaldo. The deposed king still lived in isolation on an island off the coast of Florida, where she’d cared for him the first time. Where she and Javier had begun their affair.
A Medina cousin, Javier worked for Enrique’s son on Martha’s Vineyard as head of security for their resort. A year ago, he had been visiting his uncle’s mansion to check on the island’s safety.
One look at the brooding Javier and Victoria had fallen for him. She’d changed jobs to relocate and live near him. Their affair had lasted four months. But she’d let sexual attraction blind her to how wrong they were for each other. How very unbending and arrogant the man could be.
He’d broken her heart. He’d wrecked her family.
She wouldn’t be a fool for him again.
“You should sit so we can take off,” she said coolly.
Victoria pulled her romance novel from beside her in the seat, hoping he would get the message and leave her alone.
The scent of his soap intoxicated her all the more as he slid onto the sofa across from her, his knees almost brushing hers.
He snapped his seat belt on smoothly, without once looking away from her. “Why wasn’t I told of your arrival?”
A dry smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe your uncle didn’t want to listen to you gripe about having me around.”
A lone eyebrow rose arrogantly. “He asked me to make upgrades to his security. That means I have to know everyone who comes and goes from the island. Anything I may or may not feel is of no significance.”
Sheesh. Now, didn’t that just put her in her place? Anger knocked against her ribs. Anger, not attraction, particularly since he’d just made it clear he didn’t care about her either way.
“Well, now you know. I’m going to the island.” She put on her headphones and opened her novel.
And nearly groaned as she realized her bookmarked place stopped right at a particularly steamy love scene.
Javier Cortez hated surprises. He’d experienced firsthand the high price of being caught unawares and unprepared, ousted from his homeland as a kid, chased by rebels who’d killed his grandparents and his aunt.
Settling deeper into his seat as the private plane soared upward, he studied his ex-lover reading her novel—or pretending to read, since her page-turning was suspiciously random. He was a man who liked to be in control, and Victoria Palmer was one huge jolt to his system. She dulled his instincts and rattled his focus.
She was also still hot as hell. He wouldn’t be able to stand up anytime soon without revealing just how much she still affected him. Her blond hair was gathered in a sleek ponytail that trailed over one shoulder. He ached to ease that simple cloth band down the length of her hair and free the silky strands to tumble all around her.
Her chest rose and fell faster and faster, her full breasts pushing against her white cotton shirt. Even her semi-uniform of the simple blouse and khakis she wore appeared elegant. She had a Scarlett Johansson–type lushness to her. No, his attraction to her hadn’t dimmed one watt in the past year.
If anything, abstinence had made the gnawing hunger all the more fierce.
Desperate to regain his equilibrium, he searched for a subject that would put a damper on the chemistry crackling between them strong enough to start an in-flight accident. He raised his voice to be heard over her headphones. “How’s your brother?”
Her violet-blue eyes snapped up from her book. She yanked out the ear buds. “I see you’re as heartless as ever. My brother is still in the juvenile detention center where you put him.”
Her brother had come to live with her when his parents had given up trying to control him. But the change of venue hadn’t done a thing to alter the delinquent teen’s attitude, and Timothy’s behavior had begun to border on criminal. Finally, when Timothy had committed vandalism at a Medina resort where Javier oversaw security, there’d been no choice but for Javier to have him arrested.
He knew it had been the right decision, even if it had meant incurring Victoria’s wrath. God, she was hot when she got mad.
“Your brother put himself in juvie by pretending to be a valet so he could take joyrides in high-priced cars, just to name one of his stunts that you dismiss as a ‘prank.’ I happen to call it criminal activity. Having people make excuses for him certainly doesn’t help.”
“Are you saying it’s my fault he’s in jail?” She slapped her book down. “I took that job in Boston to be closer to you and now I’m stuck there to be near my brother in jail. What do you think of that?”
“It does not matter what I think.” He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. In fact, blood surged south as she leaned forward. “I am only here to do my job, as are you.”
“My job?” She yanked her seat belt off and stood sharply, her signature temper sparking in her eyes. “Convenient that you’re finally remembering that now. How about we stick to the professional and stop talking about my family?”
He nodded. Why had he provoked her with the reference to her brother? He wasn’t sure. In fact, mentioning Timothy Palmer only made him angry about how much trouble the teen had caused his sister, the kind of danger he’d brought to Victoria’s doorstep.
What Timothy had cost them all.
Victoria stood in the middle of the plane, glancing left and right as if searching for an escape hatch. Rather tough to find even on a luxury plane.
He gestured toward the back. “There’s a bed if you wish to nap.”
A bed? Not the smartest thing to mention with so much awareness searing the air.
Her eyes went wide with an answering arousal just a
s the plane bounced on a pocket of turbulence. He reached for her, but she jerked to the side, bracing a hand on the leather seat. The jet bucked again. Victoria’s feet shot out from under her.
And she landed squarely in his lap.
Two
Her heart plunged to her stomach as the plane lurched and she landed in Javier’s lap. She grabbed his shoulders before she toppled to the floor. The jet bounced along another pocket of turbulence, thrusting her against the solid wall of his muscular chest.
And the thick arousal straining against his pants.
Oh. My.
She searched his hot brown eyes and her skin tingled. The scent of him—bay rum and manly musk—triggered memories of the two of them tangled up naked together in bed. She knew well how much pleasure waited for her if she dared to ditch her panties, free his erection and straddle him here, now.
A year ago she would have done just that. After all, they were alone in the airplane cabin, the pilot ensconced behind the door. Javier had avowed he enjoyed her impetuous nature. She’d never told him how he drove her to cast aside sexual inhibitions in a way no other man had before.
Their affair had been filled with impulsive, uninhibited hookups. While making love, Javier shed his cool demeanor as quickly and fully as his clothes. The attraction between them had been combustible, distracting them from the differences they’d both tried so hard to ignore.
But those differences had eventually—inevitably—driven them apart, shattering her heart in the process. She reminded herself that nothing had changed.
She wriggled to slide free of the man, the temptation.
He clamped onto her hips, his jaw tight. “Victoria, for God’s sake, hold still.”
His ragged request turned her shaky knees even weaker. His mouth was a mere whisper away. So easily she could angle her lips against his and without question the flames would ignite.
Less than a half hour in his company and she was already prepared to repeat the same mistakes.
She sagged against his chest even as her mouth demanded, “Let me go.”
“I’m trying.” His fingers twitched against her hips. With restraint? Or frustrated desire? “Believe me, woman, I am trying.”
The heat of his words flowed over her face, soaked into her soul, which had hungered for him so very desperately this past year. Why did he have to be here? Now? For the past year in Boston, she’d half feared, half hoped she would run into him on the street. He worked on Martha’s Vineyard for his Medina cousin, but it wasn’t that far away.
As the anniversary of their breakup approached, she’d known she had to do something to get him out of her heart once and for all. The temporary stint subbing for Enrique Medina’s regular nurse had seemed like a sign, a chance to prove to herself that she could now walk in Javier Cortez’s world unscathed.
But this plane ride had proven that she couldn’t. Only, she couldn’t afford to back out, not when she so desperately needed the money to pay her brother’s lawyer for the appeal that could free him on his eighteenth birthday rather than his twenty-first.
She also couldn’t afford to forget for a minute that Javier was the one who’d put her brother behind bars for what amounted to a series of teenage pranks.
Tears stung her eyes and before she could hide them, Javier knuckled one away with surprising tenderness. God, having his hands on her again was heaven and hell.
The sound system crackled a split second’s warning before the pilot’s voice filled the luxurious space. “The weather isn’t cooperating with us today. We have storms ahead for most of our trip. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”
Javier’s hands slid enticingly down her arms before settling on her hips again as he lifted her. But he didn’t let go. His steadying grip stayed on her waist.
She braced her palms against his chest, a hard wall as unyielding as the man. “Javier.” Her voice was so shaky she cleared her throat and tried again. “When we arrive at the island, I think it best that we avoid each other.”
“If you have no feelings for me, then seeing each other isn’t a problem.” His fingers skimmed up her spine, drawing her closer.
“Of course I have feelings for you.” She kept her hands on his chest, her arms maintaining at least a modicum of distance between them. She put ice into her words. “You infuriate me. It hurts my heart just to look at you. I hate the way my body seems to want you in spite of everything. But I am a nurse. I understand it’s just biology.”
“I would call it chemistry.” His eyes smoldered.
“Chemistry notwithstanding, I don’t want you in my life. So I would appreciate it if you would please keep your distance.”
He stared into her eyes for so long she feared he would argue. Or maybe even kiss her, which would only prove just how quickly chemistry would trump her logic.
Finally his hands fell away and he let her go. “It’s a large island. The king’s mansion is huge. Staying apart shouldn’t be any problem at all—although you’re free to let me know if you change your mind.”
As she made her way across the aisle, she watched him calmly pull a laptop from his briefcase as if she didn’t even exist. How could he compartmentalize his emotions so easily?
Her legs folded under her and she dropped into her seat, her body still on fire from the feel of Javier’s hands.
Javier went through the motions of working on his computer, but his real focus was the woman across the aisle from him. She’d given up trying to read and had fallen into a fitful sleep. Dark circles stained the delicate skin under her eyes, attesting to long-term strain.
Most likely caused by that damn fool brother of hers. Javier had hoped putting the kid on the road to reform would ease the pressure on his sister. He’d tracked the boy’s behavior since Timothy entered the juvenile detention center and the teen seemed to be keeping his nose clean.
Javier had kept track of Victoria, too, which made it all the more surprising to find her here today. He should have known, damn it.
Could the aging king—his uncle—have set him up? The ailing man was physically near death, but his mind was still sharp as ever.
If so, Javier didn’t appreciate being manipulated. If he wanted Victoria in his life again, then he would take action.
A niggling voice in his head reminded him of all the times he’d covertly watched over her in the past months. He’d been living his life in limbo. Very atypical for him. But then, the way he felt around Victoria was far from “typical.”
Without a doubt, he had unfinished business with this woman. And he had a weeklong window at his uncle’s island to find closure....
Or find his way back into her bed.
Three
Victoria stared out the small round window as finally, finally the flight neared an end. Between the crummy weather and the looming presence of Javier across the aisle, her nerves were knotted tightly. At least she would have work to occupy her soon.
In the distance, an island rested in the middle of the murky ocean. The storm front gave the world a fuzzy haze that deepened as night began to fall. Palm trees spiked from the landscape, lushly thick and so very different from the leafless snowy winter that gripped Boston.
She’d been to the island before, but the magnitude of it still threatened to steal her breath anew. The Medina compound was a small city unto itself, a surprise splash of lights in a sea so vast, like a holiday design on the water left past the season.
As the plane powered through the bumpy airspace, the island began to take shape. A dozen or so small outbuildings dotted a semicircle around a massive structure—the main house bathed in floodlights.
The white mansion faced the ocean in a U-shape, constructed around a large courtyard with a pool. She could distinguish few details in
the encroaching dark, but she recalled from her earlier visit how highly protected the place was—a gilded cage for Enrique Medina’s sons, to say the least. Even from a distance she couldn’t miss the grand scale of the sprawling estate, the sort befitting royalty.
Yet the former ruler chose to cut himself off from the top-notch medical facilities his fortune could so easily buy. She would do her best for him, but his critical condition would be better monitored in a hospital, something she intended to remind him of as politely and firmly as possible. Often.
She was here for Enrique Medina, and any problems with the deposed king’s nephew needed to be put on hold. Her hormones needed to be put on hold.
The intercom system crackled a second before the pilot announced, “Attention please. We’re anticipating a rough landing. Weather only worsens the longer we’re in the air, so we’re going to put this thing down on the ground as soon as possible. Prepare yourselves for a rapid descent.”
Her heart bolted up into her throat. Before she could stop herself, she reached for Javier’s hand.
Javier’s hand was numb from how hard Victoria had squeezed it during the entire hazardous landing. He’d kept his calm, even though his own gut had twisted at the thought of her in danger.
Now safely on the ground, he held the umbrella over her head as they raced through the sheeting rain toward the Porsche Cayenne four-wheel drive waiting for them. He needed to get her inside the car and safely to the mansion.
He nodded to the armed security guards and waved for the Porsche to be brought closer.
Lightning split the inky sky. Thunder clapped fast on its heels. Too fast for his peace of mind. He hooked an arm around Victoria’s waist and pulled her to his side. His feet pounded faster on the paved lot alongside the airstrip, each step splashing in deeper puddles as the downpour increased.
Behind Boardroom Doors Page 17