his mind racing as a plan began to take shape in his head. ‘Of course I haven’t forgotten about it.’ Ideas were coming thick and fast now. ‘Of course I’ll be home. I can’t organise it from a distance, can I?’ he said, dangling some tasty bait.
‘But you know someone who can?’ Holly prompted with a smile, supplying him with exactly the right cue.
‘Do you mean Maxie?’ he said, injecting surprise in his voice.
‘Who else but Maxie?’ Holly demanded, laughing at his apparent slowness to catch on.
‘I suppose I could approach her…’ He said this thoughtfully. ‘We’ll just have to hope she can work our charity event into her schedule.’
‘If you ask her she will. I know she will. Please ask her, Diego!’
‘All right,’ he agreed indulgently. ‘For you, I will.’
* * *
Maxie woke slowly and cautiously, and then groaned when she remembered everything that had happened the day before. Touching her lips before she had even opened her eyes, she hummed in rueful confirmation that they were still swollen, and that the area round them was still abraded where Diego’s sharp black stubble had raked her skin. She reached for the pot of moisturiser by the side of her bed. She couldn’t possibly afford an affair with Diego. She’d have to start buying face cream in bucketloads.
There was no chance she was going to have an affair with Diego, Maxie told herself firmly as she got out of bed. She was a realist, who was going to pack and get ready to go home.
Showering and dressing as fast as she could in T-shirt and jeans, she raced downstairs. A couple more photographs and one more report to the bride and she was done—out of here with her reputation more or less intact. By some miracle, Maxie concluded, as her body warmed just at the thought that Diego might be around.
Maria greeted her gaily with, ‘Buenos dias, señorita.’
‘Buenos dias, Maria.’
‘Señor Diego is waiting for you outside.’
‘He is?’ Maxie’s heart began to thunder as she glanced out of the kitchen window.
‘Your riding lesson,’ Maria trilled.
‘I thought I had one yesterday?’
‘Practice makes perfect,’ Maria assured her with a twinkling smile.
Maxie wasn’t so sure about that. Grabbing a piece of toast and an apple, she paused to give Maria a hug. ‘You’re the best,’ she said, giving the smiling housekeeper a squeeze before taking her concerns outside. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself as she stared up at the man on the back of the impossibly fired-up stallion. ‘Good morning, Diego.’
‘Good morning, Maxie.’
Hmm. Something wasn’t right here. Diego was holding the mild grey pony on a lead rope at his side, while his mighty stallion pawed the ground and snorted imperiously. All right so far. It was just that look on his face—confident and…sexy. She laughed when the grey gelding turned a patient face towards her as if to say, These guys are a pain, aren’t they?
‘Yes, they are,’ she said, stroking the grey pony’s velvet muzzle.
‘Who is what?” Diego demanded suspiciously as his stallion’s bridle chinked an impatient warning.
‘You don’t need to know,’ Maxie murmured, resting her cheek against the pony’s warm, firm neck for a soothing moment.
‘Are you ready for your second lesson?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ Maxie agreed, wondering where this one would lead.
‘Good. And I’ve got something else for you to consider.’ Springing down, he looped the stallion’s reins over his arm and helped her to mount up.
‘Tell me?’ she prompted once she was settled in the saddle.
‘I’ve got another job for you—if you want it?’
She couldn’t afford to turn work down. And she’d do almost anything to spend some more time with Diego, Maxie realised. Which was both dangerous and absurd.
‘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