LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Well,” she said, injecting a firm note into her voice, “we’ll see about that once I’ve checked everything over and conferred with Alex.” At the other woman’s sharply indrawn breath she added, “It is my wedding, after all.”

      Loren settled back against the soft leather upholstery and gazed out the window of the speeding limousine, wondering if she had gone too far in establishing where she stood with Giselle. Perhaps she’d been oversensitive, worn out as she was with travel. But underneath Giselle’s self-assuredness and apparent solicitude she sensed a vague but definite threat, as if she was stepping where she wasn’t fully welcome by coming back to Isla Sagrado.

      She stifled a sigh. She’d expected her homecoming to be different, sure, but when push came to shove she couldn’t forget what—or more importantly, who—had brought her here.

      Alex.

      Just thinking about him created a swell of longing deep inside. Without thinking, she traced the outline of her lips with her fingertips, silently reliving their last kiss. If she tried hard enough she could still feel the pressure of his mouth against hers, still experience the heady joy of knowing he’d traveled to New Zealand to fulfill their fathers’ bargain—that he’d seen her and still wanted her.

      Loren let her hand drop back into her lap and stared out the passenger window, searching for familiar signposts and buildings. The landscape had changed so much that Isla Sagrado hardly felt like home anymore, she thought sadly as the unfamiliar roads and buildings swept by them.

      The soft trill of a cell phone startled Loren from her reveries. From the corner of her eye she saw Giselle lift a phone to her ear.

      “Alex!” Giselle answered, her voice warm and sweet as honey.

      Loren’s stomach clenched in excitement and she waited for Giselle to hand the phone over to her so she could speak with him herself.

      “Yes, I have your future bride here in the car. I expect we’ll be at the castillo in about half an hour.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled as she listened. “Fine. Yes. I’ll let her know.”

      Giselle flipped the phone shut and gave Loren a smile. “Alex sends his apologies but he won’t be able to meet with you until this evening. Business, you understand.”

      If Loren wasn’t mistaken, there was a distinct hint of smugness in the other woman’s glittering emerald gaze. She swallowed her disappointment. Not for anything would she yield so far as to display even one hint of weakness, no matter how bitter the pill that Alex couldn’t spare even a few minutes to greet her on her first day here.

      “Of course. I look forward to the opportunity to have a little rest and freshen up before I see him.” Loren smiled in return, summoning a bravado she hoped she could pull off. “Besides, Alex and I have the rest of our lives together. What’re a few more hours?”

      Alex put down his office phone and stared out the window. It looked down and over the sprawling luxury waterfront resort that was his main concern in the management of the del Castillo financial empire. From his position, it looked beautiful and peaceful, but appearances could be deceiving.

      A matter between two of his key management staff that he’d thought Giselle had settled weeks ago had flared up again today with no apparent warning. He sighed. There was no accounting for personalities and how people could either rub along together or end up rubbing one another entirely the wrong way. Add to that the constant harping on about the wretched governess’s curse, both in the media and in the whispers among the staff—suffice it to say that the sooner this wedding was done and Loren was pregnant with his child, the better.

      How a nation of well-educated and forward-thinking people could remain so superstitious defied belief. The legend of the governess and her curse on the del Castillo family when she was spurned by her lover was just that. A legend. There was no proof. Even the media interest he himself had encouraged had turned into a two-headed beast he could barely tolerate. Giselle had been an enormous help, always stepping in to deflect questions away from him so she could handle them herself.

      And she had come to his aid again today. In the face of the urgency in dealing with today’s debacle, her calm suggestion that she collect Loren from the airport had been welcome. Giselle was a consummate professional.

      He knew she’d make Loren feel at home and get her comfortably settled at the castillo.

      If he’d gone to get her, the press would never have let them leave. They’d still be there, posing for pictures, answering questions—wasting time that could be better spent letting Loren unwind after her flight and letting Alex get this administrative headache straightened out. It would be much better for Alex to spend time with her tonight, at the quiet family dinner he’d organized with his brothers and his grandfather, and no press around to badger them.

      He allowed himself a small smile at the thought of his grandfather’s excitement over their planned dinner. Abuelo’s reaction when told that Loren would be returning to Isla Sagrado as his future bride had been worth the time away from the problems at the resort to visit with her.

      He thought back to when he’d broken his brief liaison with Giselle. She’d pouted a little but had taken his decision, and the diamond tennis bracelet he’d bought her as a severance gift, with good grace and assured him her efficiency in her work would continue. And she’d reiterated her willingness to take up where they’d left off should he ever change his mind.

      Until he’d seen Loren again, he’d given Giselle’s offer some serious thought. After all, once he’d married and met Abuelo’s concerns by ensuring the next del Castillo generation would be born, why shouldn’t he have some fun? But, despite the clinical manner in which he’d imagined this alliance would go forth, from the second his lips had touched Loren’s there had been something about her that had pushed Giselle’s offer right out of his mind.

      That Loren was unschooled in the ways of love was clear, but how unschooled? The thought that she might be a virgin both intrigued and enticed him. To be her first lover, to unlock the sensual creature he’d tasted in that first kiss? Oh yes, there were definitely aspects of his marriage to Loren Dubois that he found himself looking forward to far more than he’d anticipated. Now, if he was going to enjoy any time with Loren later today he needed to catch up with his work here at the resort. Fortunes didn’t make themselves—legend or no.

      By the time Giselle returned to the office he was entrenched in his work. He lifted his head only briefly when she came in with some papers.

      “I hope Loren didn’t mind I couldn’t be there to greet her. Is she all settled now at the castillo?” he asked, scoring his signature across the letters she leaned over to place on his desk.

      “Of course she minded you weren’t there. Wouldn’t any woman?”

      Giselle laughed, but he noticed her smile did not quite reach her eyes.

      Her fragrance, as heady and sensual as the woman herself, wove around him. But rather than the usual reaction it evoked in him—an anticipation of pleasurable things to come—he was reminded instead of the contrast between his assistant’s overt sexuality and Loren’s more subtle blend of allure. For some perverse reason, the latter was now far more appealing.

      “And yes, in answer to your question, I made sure she was completely comfortable in her suite,” Giselle answered. “Although she did seem very weary from her travel.”

      “Too tired for the dinner with Abuelo tonight, do you think?”

      “Well, obviously I can’t speak for her but, yes, she did look rather shattered. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she slept all the way through until morning.”

      Alex furrowed his brow in a frown. Until morning? That wouldn’t do. Abuelo was looking forward to renewing his acquaintance with the daughter of the man who’d been his son’s best friend for so many years. An edge of irritation slid under his skin at the thought that Loren would prefer to sleep rather than spend the evening

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