coulda been in prison. I checked but didn’t find anything. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, though.”
“Leon! That’s ridiculous! What on earth would make you think—”
A knock sounded on her open door, interrupting her words. Emma jerked her head up.
Raul Santos stood in the doorway.
SHE ACTUALLY WENT pale when she saw him, Raul noted. With a quick mumble, Emma Toussaint hung up the phone and came out from behind her desk to greet him. Raul tried to read the emotion on her face as she walked toward him, but he wasn’t fast enough. She recovered her composure immediately and placed a mask of politeness on her features. She’d been surprised to see him, but something more had passed over her face. Guilt? Confusion? Anxiety? He immediately thought of William Kelman and wondered if he’d been on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Santos!” she said. “How nice to see you. How are you?”
She held out her hand and he took her fingers in his, holding them as he answered, “It’s Raul, remember? And I’m very well, thank you.” After a moment longer than necessary, he released her hand, but the feel of her skin stayed with him. Soft and silky—and freezing cold. She was nervous.
He told himself she couldn’t possibly have found out anything about him—not that fast. He smiled. “It was good to see you Monday evening. The restaurant is excellent, isn’t it?”
“It is wonderful,” she answered. “Did your friend enjoy it?”
“Yes, she did. I wanted to take her somewhere nice, but I had no idea where to go. She’s the one who told me about Santa Cruz and the opportunities here.” He held out the flowers he’d been holding by his side. “I brought your secretary a little something to thank her for her help, and I thought you might enjoy these, as well.”
The delicate fragrance of freesias and white roses wafted up from the cone he handed across the desk.
Her eyes widened in surprise, then filled with pleasure as she brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled deeply. “How thoughtful of you! They’re gorgeous. Thank you very much.”
She looked both flustered and touched, as if it’d been a long time since a man had brought her flowers. He murmured his reply, wondering what she would think if she knew more about him.
He pointed to one of the chairs in front of her desk. “May I sit, or am I interrupting?”
“Please.” She gestured toward the chair. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’ve actually come to set up a trade I’d like you to handle. You have that information I requested, don’t you?”
Her expression went blank, then her brow furrowed as she obviously remembered. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. Felicity told me you’d asked for some stock reports and I completely forgot. I’ve been so busy.” She shook her head in an embarrassed fashion and abruptly laid the flowers on her desk, turning quickly to the computer monitor sitting nearby. She began to type as she talked, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Maybe I can get them on-line. If I put out a rush request, it’s possible I’ll have them by this afternoon…”
She wore a dark brown suit with a straight pointed collar. The severity of the cut and somberness of the color did everything it could to make her look unattractive.
But it failed.
He mentally shook himself and returned to the task at hand. The report didn’t matter, but she didn’t know that. It’d only been an excuse to return to the bank. He could use this opportunity to his advantage, though.
“You could make it up to me in another way.”
Her fingers stopped abruptly, and she looked at him, her hazel eyes darkening. “How?” she asked cautiously.
“Have dinner with me Saturday. Surely by then the reports will be here, and we can discuss the details of the trade. You can execute it for me at the beginning of next week when you’ve got the time.”
She wanted to say no. He could read the refusal on her face, but her business acumen wouldn’t let her. He was a major client, and she didn’t want to upset him. She couldn’t afford to upset him. He felt a moment’s sympathy for her, but ignored it and pressed his case. “It’s the least you can do,” he said with a smile, “to make up for forgetting about me.”
“I didn’t forget!” she said quickly. “I assure you, that’s not the case. It’s just that I’ve been busy and—”
“It’s not important,” he said, dismissing her excuse. “But come to dinner with me, anyway, and convince me of that.”
She hesitated for a second. “I have an obligation that night, out at La Sierra—”
“Oh, yes, the charity auction for the hospital. Las Hermanas de Socorro. I forgot about it.”
She was trapped, and they both knew it. If he’d been unaware of the event, she might have been able to get away with her excuse, but not now. He couldn’t have worked it better if he’d planned it. He silently thanked Wendy for mentioning the gala.
“La Sierra is on the road to Cochibamba, isn’t it?” he said in a pleasant voice. “I’ve heard it’s quite lovely out there.”
“It is.” After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke again, saying the only thing she could. “Would you like to go with me? I could introduce you to some of the other expats, show you around a bit…”
He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Tell me where you live and what time to pick you up.”
BY SATURDAY EVENING, Emma had begun to ask herself just what she’d been thinking when she’d invited Raul to attend the party with her. Reina would see them and she’d give Emma a hard time later. William Kelman obviously had a problem with him, too. To top things off, Leon Davis had practically insisted the man was a felon. She’d known all this and she’d invited him, anyway.
As she pulled one of her endless black dresses from the closet, Emma tried to analyze what was going on, but she couldn’t come up with an answer. Sure, she found him attractive, but she hardly knew him, for God’s sake, and most probably shouldn’t let it go any further. Since her divorce, she’d made it a policy never to date anyone associated with her work. Actually she never dated at all. It wasn’t worth the effort, and besides, there were always questions, questions she didn’t want to hear or answer. But now she’d broken all her rules and asked out Raul Santos. It didn’t get any worse than that.
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