The Montoros Dynasty. Katherine Garbera
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“No. I can handle this.” Awkwardly, he tried to reach the first step.
Bella got between him and the ladder, her expression combative. “You two boneheads are acting like Neanderthals. Back off. Maria can get up the ladder on her own.” She bit her lip. “Can’t you, honey?”
Maria nodded. “Of course.”
Reluctantly, Alex allowed Maria to wriggle out of his embrace. He steadied her when she was on her feet. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her face was pale, but she managed the three steps and made it up onto the side of the pool.
Alex sprinted behind her and picked her up again.
Gabriel and Bella followed him. “There’s a sofa in the cabana,” Bella said.
As Alex deposited his precious cargo on the comfy couch, Gabriel frowned. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”
“No, no, no.” Maria sat up despite their protests. “It’s a bump on the head. That’s all. Give me some aspirin and I’ll be fine.”
* * *
Maria was embarrassed and mortified. Her three companions hovered like broody hens. And despite her wishes, the Montoros’ private physician was summoned. The speed at which he arrived startled her.
Everyone was sent out of the cabana while the doctor did his exam. He was kind and gentle and thorough. At last he gave her the all clear. No concussion, but plenty of headaches on the way.
When the other three were allowed to return, Maria struggled to sit up. “We have to change. Dinner is already late because of me.”
Gabriel crouched beside her. “Let Alex take you back to the villa. You’re in no shape to suffer through a formal meal. My family will understand, of course. If you feel better in the morning, you’re welcome to join us for breakfast.”
Bella nodded. “My bull-in-the-china-shop brother is right. I’ll have dinner sent down to you. Take the evening to recover.” She gathered up Maria’s things, as well as Alex’s, and tucked them in a large canvas tote.
Gabriel handed Alex a set of keys. “Take the golf cart that’s outside. Call the main house if you need anything or if she gets worse.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Maria said, exasperated. What was it about powerful men that made them feel as if they had to control the world?
Alex steadied her as she stood. “Take it slow.”
Outside, Bella gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry about this.”
Gabriel said nothing, his expression frustrated and guilty.
“It’s nothing,” Maria insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
At last she and Alex were allowed to escape. He drove the cart expertly, of course. And though she couldn’t remember for sure where all the turns were, Alex tracked the route without error.
Back at their lodging, she held him off with an upraised hand. “I can walk inside.” Still wearing a damp swimsuit, she felt distinctly at a disadvantage, even though Alex was half-naked, as well. Perhaps because Alex was half-naked. Despite her pounding headache, she wasn’t immune to his overt masculinity.
She was accustomed to seeing him dressed to the nines, sartorial perfection from head to toe. And that man was wildly attractive.
But something about all the bare skin between them sent a pulse thrumming low in her belly. Alex’s lightly hair dusted chest and powerful thighs said louder than words that he was a virile man in his prime. If she hadn’t been indisposed, she’d have been hard-pressed not to jump his bones. As it was, she had to admire him with a modicum of restraint.
Though she would die before admitting it, she was woozy by the time they made it inside and to her room. Alex allowed her to move at her own pace, but he stayed close. At last, she faced him with a wry smile. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Is that wise?” She could see that he didn’t like her choice. But short of tying her to a chair, he had no recourse but to step back and close the bedroom door.
When he was gone, her legs gave out and she sat down on the side of the bed. Her head hurt like crazy. When she chanced a peek in the mirror over the dresser, she groaned. Her eye and part of her cheek were swollen, giving her face an odd, lopsided look.
Well, if she’d ever had any hope of luring Alex into her bed, all bets were off. He might be willing to kiss hot-and-sweaty Maria, but what guy would be attracted to a woman who looked like she’d gone three rounds with a boxing champ?
Dispirited and hurting, she gathered her clean undies and her short gown and robe. Their deep plum color should have boosted her spirits, but all she could think about was how her eye was probably going to be a perfect match.
It actually hurt for the water in the shower to hit her face, so she turned the faucet away and managed to wash the chlorine out of her hair without too much discomfort. After drying off and donning her sleepwear, she sat and dried her hair.
There were times—now being one of them—that she debated cutting her hair. Its length was pure vanity. But the thought of chopping it off made her wince. So she put up with the time it took to wash and dry it.
When she was done, her aches and pains had begun to make themselves felt in earnest. The doctor had left some painkillers. But she needed to take them with food. And, besides, she was starving.
Barefoot, she padded into the living room. Her robe was thigh length, but perfectly respectable, especially given the climate. She found Alex sprawled on the sofa, flipping channels. He was dressed in the casual shirt and slacks he had worn on arrival.
He jumped to his feet. “The food’s in the kitchen. Are you interested in eating?”
She nodded, a lump in her throat. The genuine concern on his face and in his dark eyes made her feel cared for and protected. It was a warm, fuzzy sensation. “I’m really hungry,” she said softly.
He insisted on seating her at the table and serving her plate from the variety of dishes on the counter.
Maria was barely conscious of what she ate. The food was hot and delicious, but she tasted little of it. She was far too aware of the tension in the room. She remembered their kiss earlier in the day, and it was a good bet Alex did, too.
Alex tried not to let Maria see how worried he was about her. Fatigue was visible in the curve of her shoulders and the pale cast of her skin. She seemed to be holding herself upright by sheer stubbornness.
The knot where the volleyball had made contact with her eye socket had already gone down some, but the bruise was blooming rapidly.
He joined her at the table to eat, though he had no real interest in food. “I was going to offer you a glass of wine,” he said. “But I thought better of it. Didn’t seem like a good idea if you’re taking pain pills.”
She pulled a prescription bottle from the pocket of her robe. “The doctor said I can take two at a time, but I’m going to start with one and see how I do.”
As he watched, she shook one tablet into her hand and washed it down with water. When her head tilted back, the silky fabric of her nightwear shifted and pulled, making it clear that she was bare underneath. Which made perfect sense, of course. But it also played havoc with his physical state.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not late, but you may want to go on to bed.”
She shook her head. “I’ve only now adjusted to the time change. I don’t want to start over again. Do you think we could watch a movie?”
He would have done anything she asked in that moment. “Of course,” he said, the