The Spanish Conquest
An Awe-Struck E-Books Preview
Published by Awe-Struck E-Books Copyright 2006

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-58749-651-6
GENRE: contemporary romance
AUTHOR:
Kate Hofman
Regular price is $4.99
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Chapter One

Ocean Breeze, Florida:

Thank heaven; that finishes the library, Cordelia Dunleigh thought. She stretched her tired back, unconsciously sensuous in thin white jeans and a cropped rose pink camisole top, which could not quite hide the beautiful shape of her breasts. She finger-combed her cloud of light auburn hair back, hunting for her slides, which she usually kicked off while working.

For a moment, she paused at the glass doors to the garden, her mood lifted by the carefully tended flowers and plants; others, like the bougainvillea, a riot of colour spilling over a wall. She caught the reflection of her small, heart-shaped face in the glass and stared at her straight little nose and her huge sea-blue eyes with their long dark lashes. Tilting her head, she noticed her mouth. Even she had to admit it looked kissable. Shrugging, she shook her head at her fanciful thoughts. Turning back to the room, she gave the library one last look, and quietly closed the double doors.

She had been astonished when Luis Montoya gave her the contract to redesign all the downstairs rooms of his huge mansion, which was more of a castle, actually. She had never worked in this exclusive area, west of the Inland Waterway in Ocean Breeze. The mansion with turrets at both ends, the roofline crenellated, was set in ten acres of parklike gardens, surrounded by an eight-foot fence, protected by state-of-the-art security, and inhabited by the elusive, reclusive Luis Montoya de Cabrera.

She still wondered why he had chosen her. Of course, it was possible that he had mixed her up with her cousin, Crystal Dunleigh, the owner of Dunleigh Interiors. But Crystal ran the head office in New York, where she lived with her husband, leaving it to Cordelia to manage the Florida branch in Ormond Beach, just south of Ocean Breeze.

Cordelia walked slowly back to the main reception room, where the beautiful parquet floor had just been sanded to remove heavy coats of ugly varnish. Tonight, one of her crew would refinish the floor.

Just then, she became aware of a thin wail. It sounded like a baby crying. She tried to remember what she had heard about Luis Montoya, but nothing much came to mind, except that he was a stunningly handsome man, a widower at thirty-five. He had been photographed at charitable dinners, recitals, art galleries, a few months after his wife's sudden death. At times it seemed impossible to open a magazine or newspaper without seeing a photograph of the dazzling, aloof Luis Montoya, escorting a famous international beauty or a model, an actress. Was there a child from his brief marriage--to an Italian princess, she seemed to recall.

The cries became louder, and Cordelia sprinted up the stairs to see if she could comfort the crying baby. She ran along a wide hallway with thick, silky oyster-hued carpeting, the walls covered in slub silk of a slightly lighter shade. She quickly found the room, door ajar, where the baby was crying.

Cordelia lifted the baby from its crib, saying soothingly, "Poor baby...what's the matter? Let's see. Oh, you're so wet, small wonder you're crying. We'll soon fix that." She put the baby down on the changing table with its thick, quilted cover, and began to remove the soaked diaper.

"Oh, you're a little girl," Cordelia said softly.

There was a foot-operated pail nearby and she dropped the diaper into it. She ran some warm water into a basin and gently washed the baby, distressed to see how red and sore she was. She hunted around and found a tube that seemed familiar. She had used this stuff when her nephew was a baby, suffering diaper rash.

"There you are, honey," she cooed to the baby. "Does that feel better?" The baby's cries had changed to a sort of hiccupping sound. She held her little arms out, perhaps feeling instinctively that she was in the hands of someone who was used to babies.

"Well, now that we've got you dry, I wonder if you need to be burped, honey?" Cordelia mused, lifting the baby, holding her upright against her shoulder, slowly and gently patting her back. After a few moments, the baby let out a big burp. When Cordelia continued her gentle pats, another burp.

"Poor darling," Cordelia soothed, "Somebody forgot to burp you. More comfortable now, honey?"

At that moment, a man strode hurriedly into the baby's room. A tall, dark, very handsome and alluring man, who frowned when he saw the baby in Cordelia's arms. Cordelia recognized him from the one brief meeting she had had with him, when he engaged her to do his interiors--Luis Montoya de Cabrera.

He gave her an aloof, appraising glance, asking curtly, "What are you doing?"

Sounding far calmer than she felt, Cordelia said, "I'm Cordelia Dunleigh, your interior--"

He interrupted her imperiously. "I know who you are. I hired you not that long ago. Why are you here, is what I asked."

"I heard her crying, so I came up to see what I could do to comfort her--"

"How do you know she's a girl?" he asked, still sounding aloof and very wary.

Cordelia said softly, "I changed her diaper. She was soaking wet, poor baby. Anyway, she looks like a girl; I'd say she's about five months?"

"Six. You're not merely an interior designer, you're a baby expert, too?"

Cordelia lifted her chin, refusing to respond to his disdainful mockery. She continued her soft patting of the baby's back, murmuring soothingly to her, ignoring Luis Montoya completely.

He was astonished. Never before had a woman ignored him the way this young woman was doing now. When he realized she was not going to respond to his taunt, he continued, his tone gentling slightly, "My friend and his wife must've gone out. His wife was to take care of my daughter."

Cordelia held on to her temper with difficulty. What a way to look after a small, helpless baby. As quietly as she could, she said, "Well, she didn't burp her, and that is essential after feeding her a bottle. Particularly since she seems small for her age. An un-burped baby is desperately uncomfortable. You'll forgive me for saying this, but you are reputed to be rich. Why don't you have a properly qualified nanny for your daughter?"

Luis glanced at her furiously, his dark eyes blazing. How dare this young woman speak to him in this accusing tone. Women never spoke to him like that. They murmured, they whispered, they coaxed and cajoled, they fussed over him and did their best to get him to like them. This woman didn't seem to care whether he liked her or not. She was, simply, deeply upset with him for not looking after his daughter properly.

His eyes glittering dangerously, he said, forcing himself to speak calmly, "Diego Alvarez and his wife are childless. Perhaps Maria didn't know about burping. I had a nanny. Of course I had. She left this morning without giving notice, she simply left, saying my daughter was too difficult."

Cordelia stared at him over the baby's head. She said, incensed, but holding her voice down, "This darling little girl? Difficult? Well, of course, if the woman couldn't be bothered to look after her--you wouldn't believe how sore she is inside her diaper--if she didn't show her any affection, give her comfort, then of course the baby would become difficult."

Intrigued in spite of himself Luis asked, "How do you know so much about babies? Your résumésaid you're unmarried."

"I am. Unmarried, I mean. My brother has a son, now four years old. I've often stayed with them so that my brother and sister-in-law could go away. They have a nanny, but wouldn't entrust their child to her alone." She cast a sideways glance at Luis, who had the uncomfortable feeling that she was criticizing him for relying solely on a nanny for his daughter. Before he could say a word, Cordelia continued quietly, "Of course I'm no expert, but I do love children. A baby feels that."

As Cordelia kept patting the baby's back gently, walking slowly up and down, Luis nodded.

"Ah, yes, I remember, your brother, the lawyer in Palm Beach. Well known and well respected. Married to Lady Rosemary, daughter of the Earl Colethorne."

Careful of the baby's comfort, Cordelia did not turn around quickly, although she was startled by the details Luis Montoya had just given.

"You had me investigated?" Although she kept her voice down, it was impossible to keep her outrage from showing in her voice, her eyes. The baby began to fret gently. Instantly, Cordelia's attention was on the baby again. She soothed, "Did I startle you, honey? I didn't mean to. Just you drowse against my shoulder some more. This is supposed to be your naptime. Mmm?"

To Luis's surprise, his daughter hid her little face against the young woman's shoulder, her eyes closing, one thumb going towards her rosebud mouth.

Luis sat down on the edge of the changing table, shrugging negligently. He threw Cordelia a glance she could not interpret. "You're offended because I had you investigated? That is standard practice. I am a rich man, known to like my privacy. You wouldn't believe how cunning, sneaky, devious these so-called investigative journalists can be, trying to get close enough to me to write profitably about my private life. Pretending to be an interior designer would be one of their easier ploys."

Furious with him now, Cordelia whispered hotly, "Oh, really? You just try your hand at interior design some time, and you'll find out how easy it is to fake being one."

He turned away to hide a grin of amusement at her spirited defence of her chosen profession.

"You might as well give me my daughter, and I'll put her back in her crib," he said, holding out his hands.

"As you wish," said Cordelia, matching his earlier cool tone. Secretly, she was pleased when the baby protested with a little moan at being transferred.

Luis raised a slim black brow. "She seems to like you."

Full of compassion for this baby who did not seem to get much affection or comforting, Cordelia said, her voice unsteady, "I like her, too."

Luis slanted a look at this unusual woman, who seemed to care genuinely for his motherless daughter. Ah! But wait--Was this perhaps a different, subtler way of getting him to let down his guard? On the other hand, she couldn't have known that he had arrived home and, after hurrying to his daughter and finding her asleep, he had gone straight into his library, where he had a baby monitor. Surprised, then interested, he had listened to Cordelia talking to his daughter. He didn't think she could've faked that. No. She really did like his little girl.

Luis kissed his daughter gently and put her back into her little bed. He gestured to Cordelia, "Shall we...?" letting her precede him out of the room. He wondered how soon she would now make an effort to gain his interest. Women always did, he thought derisively.

To his surprise, she asked, "What is your daughter's name?"

"It's Luz," he answered, mystified by the turn the conversation had taken.

"Ah. Light," she said with a gentle smile. She nodded, as if to herself.

They descended the sweeping stairway in silence, and she turned with a brief nod that made her hair dance, to go back to work. He turned the other way to go to his library.

Suddenly he halted, turning back to her. "I want to thank you for the imaginative way you've redone my library, and for doing it so unobtrusively. I was working there when I heard Luz on the baby monitor."

Cordelia sighed. Glancing at her, he asked, his tone mocking, "Is that a sigh of relief because I have a baby monitor in my library? I have one on my belt at all times. Contrary to what you appear to believe, I love my daughter and--" His voice trailed off. Why am I telling her this? he wondered.

"I'm sure you do," said Cordelia, "She's adorable. Of course you're away a lot on business--"

"Did you become friendly with my compañero Diego Alvarez just so that you could keep track of my movements?"

Indignantly, she turned to him. "That is arrogant, Mr. Montoya. I'm not interested in your movements. I merely needed to know when you were away so I could do your library in that time. Maria very kindly told me the day you left, and gave me Diego's estimate of your return. It was a near thing, apparently. I finished your library some hours ago."

For the first time, she really looked at Luis Montoya. Tall, at least six-foot-three, with long legs and a rangy build. Thirty-five years old, she had read in a magazine article about him. Thick blue-black hair, which would probably be unruly, given the slightest chance, very dark, long-lashed eyes under slim, winged black brows, an aristocratic nose with unexpectedly sensitive nostrils, a mouth which would be generous if Luis Montoya did not keep his lips pressed together so firmly. She looked farther down, and saw a blue silk shirt so thin it molded to his body, showing his deep chest. When she saw how tightly his washed-thin, light blue jeans clung to his hips, showing an interesting, worn place just where there was a decided bulge, she hastily looked away.

Aware of her scrutiny, Luis let his eyes travel very slowly over Cordelia's body. She was undeniably beautiful, and not wearing any makeup except for some lip-gloss. Moreover, she clearly wasn't wearing a bra, and her high, round breasts were lovely. He liked the delicate ribcage, the lightly tanned skin of the narrow waist showing between the bottom of her cropped top and her low-slung white jeans. In fact, he could see the delicate indentation of her navel. Dios--the gentle curve of her hips, the long, long legs. How was it possible he had missed all that when he had that discussion with her about redesigning his downstairs rooms? Of course, he had been rather busy with Chantal at that time--Distaste briefly curled one corner of his mouth. In any case, he had an ironclad rule about not mixing business with pleasure. Just as well, probably. On the other hand, once she was through with her designs here.... Perplexed at his thoughts, he shook his dark head, returning to their conversation.

"The way you did my library is most pleasing. Tell me, how did you find out what my tastes are, what I like and dislike in furnishings?" With a gesture, he invited her to sit down on one of two love-seats facing each other by the fireplace in the room leading off the stairway. He sat down opposite her, waiting for her reply.

"Well, if you liked your library the way it was, you wouldn't have asked me to redo it. So I looked at the other rooms and, yes, I did ask Diego to tell me what you liked or disliked there. That was a big help in finding a design for the library that I thought would please you."

"You most certainly pleased me," said Luis, his voice a shade warmer. "And I do thank you."

"De nada," she said quietly. He lifted a brow at the Spanish expression, but let it go. He rose in one fluid movement and, with a quick nod to her, walked toward his library.

Cordelia stared after him for a moment, before getting to her feet and going to the room she was working on.

* * *

Luis worked in his library for several hours. So deeply immersed was he in his papers that he was startled when Diego came in, carrying a couple of files.

"I thought you'd want to see these," said Diego, putting one of the files in front of Luis, who nodded, beginning to read.

Just then a thin, thready cry sounded from the baby monitor. Luis rose quickly.

"I wouldn't bother if I were you, amigo," said Diego. "Cordelia will be up there in no time. Luz seems to like her a lot more than she does my wife. But then, of course, my poor Maria doesn't know how to handle babies. More's the pity. All the same, I thought you said at the time that Cordelia was single. Did you perhaps mean she's a single mother?"

"She's single, not a single mother," said Luis. "She's had a lot of experience with her nephew, she told me. And Luz is noticeably calmer, not so fretful. This is the first peep I've heard out of her since I laid her down. You know how often she used to cry when we had that nanny."

Luis stilled as he heard Cordelia's soft voice, "Luz, honey, why are you crying? Come here and let me see." He heard Cordelia's voice die down as she evidently dealt with whatever was bothering Luz.

Next, he heard, "There, a nice new diaper, and more of this goo to make the soreness better. Yes, in a few days it'll all be gone. What? Would you like to play? Good idea. Come and lie on this soft, clean blanket. Where are your toys? Ah, here they are. We'll play for just a little while, then it's time for your bottle." The soft voice died down and Luis heard only his daughter's gurgles.

Suddenly he turned to Diego. "An idea just hit me. How about asking Cordelia if she would be willing to look after Luz, until we can find a suitable nanny? Would she be willing to sleep in the guest suite next to Luz's room? Tell her I'll be happy to reward her handsomely for anything she can do for my daughter." Luis glanced questioningly at his friend and went on. "Diego, I realize I should've let you go to L.A. and Australia. You could've taken Maria and enjoyed the trip, taken some time off. Whereas I... All I could think of was that sullen nanny, and my helpless daughter dependent on her. Will you discuss it with Cordelia?"

"Of course I will, but I think the request to have her sleep here, next to Luz's room, had better come from you."

"I'm not so sure, Diego. She didn't seem to like me. She did not hesitate to tell me that I'm not much of a father. Oh, she wrapped it up a bit, but that's what she meant. She seemed surprised I had a baby monitor in the library and on my belt."

"I think perhaps you underestimate the Montoya charm, amigo?"

"I'm quite well aware of what you mean by the Montoya charm, amigo, but it doesn't work with her, let me assure you of that." To Diego's amusement, Luis sounded rueful. "She's only interested in Luz, that was painfully obvious."

"Well, so much the better, then. You can offer her your hospitality without any fear of your offer being misunderstood. Although I must say, I can't imagine you being upset if you were to find Cordelia in your bed. She's a very beautiful woman. And she has a nice offbeat sense of humour."

"No thanks, I have no death-wish. When did you find time to discover all these attributes in Cordelia?"

"She and Maria have become friendly. Cordelia is so generous with her expertise, giving Maria all kinds of new ideas for our house, offering to buy some things for us wholesale. I don't think she has the faintest idea of how rich you and I really are. By the way, she was deeply impressed when she realized the magnitude of your estate here."

"Well, she may be impressed by the estate, but she sure isn't impressed with me," said Luis.

Diego suppressed a smile on hearing surprise and, perhaps, pique in Luis's voice. Yes, for a man with his spectacular looks, chased and practically fought over by famous actresses, international beauties, European aristocrats, it had to be upsetting to find that Cordelia wasn't impressed by his charm and allure. Privately, Diego promised himself to watch the situation. It might develop most interestingly. Yes, indeed.

Aloud, he said, "I'd better go upstairs then and catch Cordelia while she is seeing to Luz. But I still think you should invite her to sleep in the guest suite next to Luz's room."

Luis shrugged indifferently. "We'll see how well you do in persuading her to look after Luz until we can find a really good nanny."

Diego rose. "I'll come back as soon as I've something to tell you." Leaving the library, he was amused to note that Luis was listening to the baby monitor again.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Diego quickly reached Luz's room. Tapping very lightly, he said quietly, "Cordelia, I'd like to talk to you for a moment, but it can wait if you're busy with Luz."

"Come in, Diego. Luz is fine, she's just had her five-thirty bottle, so I'm going to burp her." Cordelia lifted Luz against her shoulder, and began to pat the baby's back gently and slowly. To Diego's amusement, the tiny mouth suddenly emitted a loud burp.

"There's my clever girl," smiled Cordelia, taking the baby back into the crook of her arm, where Luz drowsed contentedly.

Turning to Diego, Cordelia asked, "Well?"

"Luis is greatly impressed by what you're doing for Luz, and he's very grateful. He wondered if you could be persuaded to look after Luz until we can find her a really good nanny. I've already alerted that very upscale domestic employment agency, and they've promised to leave no stone unturned, and all that. Would it be possible for you to put your private life on hold for a little while? Eat with us--I mean, with Luis, Maria and me. Luis realizes the interior designs you're doing will take longer because you'll be taking time out to see to Luz. He is more than willing to pay handsomely for the extra time, and as far as you are concerned, the sky is literally the limit. Luis will be delighted to pay you any fee you care to name for looking after Luz--"

Diego stopped speaking, when he saw Cordelia's white, unhappy face. After a moment, he went on, "Cordelia, did I say something to upset you?"

Cordelia shook her head. "No, Diego, you only spoke the words Mr. Montoya gave you to speak. The offer of the sky is the limit came from him, not from you. Please tell Mr. Montoya that what I do for Luz, I do from my heart. I don't want his money. The affection I have for Luz is something that can't be bought and paid for. I'll have to accept payment for the extra hours my crew will have to work, because Dunleigh Interiors can't absorb such an expense. But nothing, absolutely nothing for me personally, Diego. Please make sure that Mr. Montoya understands."

Diego rose, smiling at Cordelia, extending a finger and gently caressing Luz's rose petal cheek. He was delighted to see the baby so contented.

"May I tell Luis that you're willing to look after Luz until we find someone suitable to take care of her?"

"Of course, I'll be very glad to do that. But absolutely no money, Diego."

"Gotcha," said Diego, leaving the room.

Back in the library, Diego raised a brow at his friend. Luis, who had been listening to the baby monitor, turned to Diego.

"Judging by what little I heard, and the expression on your face, no luck?" Luis asked, his tone dejected.

"A partial success, Luis. She'll be very pleased to look after Luz, but she refuses to be paid a single penny for this. She said what she does for Luz she does from her heart, and you can't buy affection. She will, however, accept payment for the extra hours her crew will have to work because she'll be away often seeing to Luz. She'll accept that only because Dunleigh Interiors can't absorb the loss."

"I see," said Luis pensively.

Do you? Diego wondered. He went on, "In the circumstances, I thought it was probably wiser not to hit her with your offer of hospitality in the room next to Luz's. I really think you should do that yourself, Luis."

Luis nodded. "Yes, I understand. I might as well go up now, thank her for being willing to look after Luz, apologize for offering her money for her babysitting services, and so on." Frowning slightly, he raised a brow. "Interesting twist. I've never before had to apologize for offering to pay someone for services... Always a first time, I guess. Ah, well, wish me luck, amigo." Luis got to his feet and left the library.

Flying up the stairs in his usual style, he slowed to a dawdling pace, needing a few moments to decide how to word his request to Cordelia. Appeal to her feelings for Luz? Hardly fair, but for Luz's sake, he had no qualms about applying a little emotional pressure. He smiled, pleased with his decision, and walked calmly to Luz's room.

Knocking perfunctorily, he entered. Cordelia looked up in surprise.

"Mr. Montoya, you don't have to knock at your daughter's door."

"I wasn't sure...if Luz did some spitting up, as she did several times on me, you'd probably have had to take your pretty top off to wash it. No way would I want to cause you embarrassment." He sat down on the edge of the changing table, his long legs stretched out, adding, "If we're going to be in here at the same time on occasion, perhaps you'll take pity on me, and redesign the room, so there will be two chairs instead of the one nursing chair."

Cordelia smiled at him, keeping her voice soft for Luz. "If you're serious about this, I'll be delighted to redesign Luz's room. It isn't very practical the way it's set up now, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind in the least. The interior designer was a close friend of my wife's, an Englishman, who had probably never seen a baby, let alone a baby's room. I had to point out the various items of furniture that would have to be accommodated."

Cordelia was scandalized. "And this man charged you for messing up Luz's room? Your lawyers could demand that--"

Luis held up his hand, a strange, remote expression on his face, his dark eyes enigmatic. Quietly, he said, "That won't be possible. The man is dead."

Cordelia breathed, "Oh, I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Of course I'll be glad to redo Luz's room. Would you mind if I used a rose pink colour instead of all this blue? Did that man, perhaps, think you had a son?"

Luis shook his head, and Cordelia saw sapphire highlights glinting in his blue-black hair. Dear God, he's to-die-for...

"No, he knew I had a daughter. Anyway, please do whatever you wish, spend whatever you like and send me the bill, including your own designer fee. And if rose pink means a colour similar to that cropped top you're wearing, I'd like to have Luz's room done in that shade." He was amused to note Cordelia's blush when he mentioned her top, but she didn't scrunch forward to hide the little strip of bare, satiny skin. Doing that would've been uncomfortable for Luz. He was obscurely pleased Cordelia was so considerate of his daughter.

Luis remained seated on the changing table, delighted with the view this gave him of Cordelia's profile, until the cloud of light auburn hair half-hid her face as she bent over Luz.

His tone formal, he said quietly, "I want to apologize for anything Diego said on my behalf that made you uncomfortable or, worse, offended you. Please believe me, I meant no disrespect. I never thought I could buy your affection for Luz. Affection is only worth something if it's freely given.

"I know you think I'm an insensitive, unfeeling bastard who doesn't deserve to have Luz. Please give me a chance to show you that your judgment is, perhaps, unfair? I love my daughter, and while I was on this last trip, I decided I'd leave future trips to Diego. He enjoys travel with Maria. I hated every moment I was away from Luz."

Hastily Cordelia whispered, over Luz's head, "Mr. Montoya? I never thought you insensitive, unfeeling, and..." she began to smile, a little dimple appearing in her left cheek, "I'm sure your parents were married, so how could you be a bastard?"

Luis threw back his head and laughed, showing dazzling white teeth. Luz looked up in astonishment, beginning to smile when she realized the laughing man was her daddy. At least, that's what Cordelia thought.

"If my suggestion doesn't offend you, I was wondering if I could offer you hospitality in the guest suite next to Luz's room, provided you are willing to put your private life on hold for a few days, until the agency finds us a truly suitable nanny. Would you be wiling to stay here for Luz? I'm asking because you seem to be able to soothe her, and she used to wake up a lot in the night, screaming. I was afraid she was having nightmares, but how do you find out from a baby whether she has bad dreams? I found the only thing I could do for her was taking her with me to my room, letting her sleep on my chest."

He was quietly amused to see Cordelia blush, but she said merely, "At her age, Luz should wake up only once a night. She'd need a new diaper, drink some formula, but not a whole bottle, just enough to stop her little stomach from growling. I'll be glad to stay here for Luz, but I'll need to go home to pack some fresh clothing--"

"Of course, of course. Will you allow me to drive you?"

"That isn't necessary, Mr. Montoya. I have my own little car here."

"Yes, I noticed the little white two-door. What make is it?"

"It's a Saturn, Mr. Montoya."

"Ah. Even so, I'll be glad to drive you--unless, of course, you'd prefer Diego to do this. You have such a low opinion of my parenting skills, perhaps you also think I'm a menace behind the wheel of my car?" Luis had spoken lightly, a little smile tugging at a corner of his mouth. He was dismayed to see Cordelia's huge sea-blue eyes fill with tears.

"I-I never..." she began, her voice unsteady. Taking a deep breath, she began again. "I never thought anything like that, I promise you. It was obvious to me right away that you love Luz. In any case, I had no right to say what I did about needing a proper nanny. As for your driving habits, how could I say? I've never been in a car with you."

"That's something we can remedy right now, if you wish. As soon as you've given Luz her bath and put her to bed, I'd be pleased to drive you home."

"Thank you. I bathed her right after Diego left. Then I let her stretch a bit and cuddle. I think she'll sleep until it's time for her last bottle of the day. So I just have to put her back into bed," Cordelia said.

"I'll do it," said Luis, glancing at Cordelia. "I'd like to put her to bed, I haven't seen her for such a long time."

"Of course, just as you like," said Cordelia, handing him Luz.

Luis managed to hide his feelings as he put his daughter to bed. She's agreed to let me drive her home, and she'll come stay here.

Then he wondered why he should care what she thought of him. He had never cared what women thought of him, not even his wife. Perhaps Cordelia's initial contempt for him made him want to show her he loved his daughter? Yes, that must be it.

* * *

An hour later, Luis guided Cordelia to the garage, a separate building, with an apartment above for the chauffeur. As he opened the side door into the garage, he said, "My favourite car is the two-door Jaguar convertible over there, but it has a small trunk. So I think we'd better take the Corniche." He led Cordelia to a white convertible, settling her in the passenger seat.

When they had been driving a little while, Cordelia asked, "What kind of car is this? You said Corniche, I think it was, but the radiator is like a Rolls-Royce."

"That's because the Corniche is a Rolls-Royce, Cordelia," said Luis.

"It's the prettiest Rolls-Royce I've ever seen." Cordelia noticed that Mr. Montoya, as she still thought of him, had used her given name.

"Yes, it's a pretty car," Luis agreed. He glanced at his passenger and saw her smile.

"What?" he asked, one slim black brow lifted.

Gazing at him from under her long lashes, Cordelia smiled. "I was thinking of a remark I once heard about the difference between small boys and grown men. Men's toys are a lot more expensive."

Luis smiled appreciatively. "Cute," he said. "And true, I suppose. Yes, I like cars, and I have different cars for different moods."

"I don't think my brother had as many model cars when he was a boy, as you have real ones," said Cordelia. "But I love this car; so comfortable, and you can hardly hear the engine, just the quietest purr."

"I'm glad at least my car pleases you," said Luis easily. He went on, "We'll soon hit the main road, and then we'll have to go either left or right. Where do you live, Cordelia?"

"You mean your security investigators didn't ferret that out? Tsk, tsk," said Cordelia with a little grin.

"Touché," said Luis, with an admiring glance at her. He liked quick-witted women. "Seriously, I know of course your company's address in Ormond Beach, but I've no idea where you live."

"I live in Ocean Breeze North. If you'll go to the A1A and turn north on it, after a little while you'll see a small beachside condo building, just six floors. I live on the third floor. There's visitors' parking, I'll show you when we get there," said Cordelia, who was beginning to enjoy herself. After all, a divinely handsome man in a Corniche convertible was driving her. And Mr. Montoya was so nice to her, compared to how suspicious of her he had been that morning. Well, of course he was concerned about anyone who'd get close to Luz. Understandable.

Luis slanted a glance at his passenger, pleased to see she had a half-smile on her lips, and that delicious little dimple in her left cheek. Should he offer her a drink at the Hilton, or the new Acapulco, after they had picked up her suitcase? No, perhaps he'd better not.

Cordelia stretched out her hand to touch his forearm lightly. "Over there, on the right, see?" she said. "The visitors' parking is just past the steps going up to the front entrance."

"Right, I see it," said Luis, driving smoothly to the parking lot. He helped Cordelia from the car, asking, "Do you want me to wait here?"

Clearly, Cordelia hadn't thought that far. After an infinitesimal pause, she said, "Oh, no, Mr. Montoya. Please come up. Oh, by the way, for how many days do you think I should pack stuff?"

Pretending to think, Luis suggested, "Why don't you take stuff for three or four days? If we're really unlucky with the quest for a nanny, we could always come back here and pick up more clothes. Or my housekeeper will have your laundry done for you."

"Thank you," said Cordelia.

They entered the condominium building and went up to the third floor. After they entered her apartment, she gestured for him to sit down, but he merely slouched elegantly on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. She remembered her manners with difficulty--why was it so hard to think while Mr. Montoya was half-sitting there, his long legs nonchalantly stretched out?

"May I give you something to drink, Mr. Montoya?" An unaccountable feeling of shyness suddenly hit her.

"If you've some bottled water in your frig, I'll help myself. You go ahead and pack," said Luis easily.

In under ten minutes, Cordelia returned to the living room. "All packed," she said gaily. Luis quickly picked up her suitcase and the small toiletries tote, making sure Cordelia locked her apartment door securely. Number 311, he noted absently.

Twenty minutes later, Luis pulled up at his own front door, suggesting, "Shall we unload the luggage here?" He felt in his pocket for his door key, but the door opened and a handsome older woman said, "Con su permiso, Don Luis, allow me to help you."

"Gracias, Dolores," said Luis. "Ms. Dunleigh will be staying with us for a while, looking after Luz." He turned. "Cordelia, this is Señora Sanchez, my housekeeper. Dolores, meet Ms. Dunleigh." The two women smiled and nodded at each other.

A tall blond man came hurrying from the garage. "Let me put the Corniche away for you, Sir?" he asked.

"Thank you, Adams, that's helpful." In an aside to Cordelia, Luis explained, "Adams is my chauffeur. He has the apartment over the garage." Cordelia nodded.

Luis picked up Cordelia's suitcase and tote, saying to Mrs. Sanchez, "I'll take these up. Thanks, Dolores."

He nodded for Cordelia to precede him up the stairs. As Luis was busy putting the luggage into the guest suite, he noticed that Cordelia had tiptoed into Luz's room to check on her. Following her, he glanced into the room from the doorway.

His heart turned over when he saw Cordelia bend down over his daughter's crib, touching the silky dark hair with her lips in a gentle kiss.

Chapter Two

"She should have one last bottle, but she's sleeping so soundly, I'd hate to wake her just for a bottle. I'd rather let her wake by herself," Cordelia explained to Luis, noticing him at the entrance to Luz's room.

"Would you like to unpack?" Luis asked. "By all means, there's lots of time. We--that is, Maria, Diego and I--eat around nine o'clock."

"You've kept to the Mediterranean habit of eating later in the evening? When I was in Spain and Italy and Greece, I found it easy to get used to. And yes, I'd like to unpack, get out of my work clothes and grab a shower."

"Of course," said Luis. Briefly, he pictured Cordelia, nude, in the shower. With an effort, he forced his thoughts away from the image.

"We'll see you in el salón privado, as Dolores calls the room by the stairway. It's sort of our family room. Easy to fly up the stairs when Luz cries. See you around eight-thirty, for some Amontillado and tapas. I'll look forward to hearing about your Mediterranean adventures."

Smiling, Cordelia nodded, disappearing into the guest suite next to Luz's room.

Luis went to his own spacious bedroom a little farther down the hall. He stripped and took a long, tepid shower, turning the dial to 'cold' for a final minute. Just a precaution, he told himself. Cool off his libido a bit. Strange how this woman, not at all his type--he liked blondes--affected him, in spite of her feisty way of answering back. Or, perhaps, that was what he liked about her. Most women--make that all women, except this one--were charming and acquiescent, and made it clear they were available to him. Not this one. But then, he never liked having it too easy.

He picked up bikini underwear from his long rosewood chest of drawers, and went to his walk-in closet, selecting tight-fitting white Armani trousers and an emerald green shirt of thin silk. Feast your eyes, Cordelia. He had seen her eyes sweep over his jeans, then quickly look away, her long lashes downcast.

Slipping his long brown feet into a pair of white leather slides, he left his bedroom, hesitating a moment, wondering if he should look in on Luz, but deciding against it. She was obviously fast asleep. The baby monitor on his belt hadn't given out a peep.

Turning toward the stairway, he descended to the family room. He picked up The Wall Street Journal and sat down on one of the love-seats.

Soon, soft footsteps broke his concentration. Dolores approached.

"Don Luis? Anything I can get you? Tapas, Amontillado, ¿quizás?"

"Perhaps not, Dolores, just some Perrier, please. I'll have the tapas and Amontillado when the others are here."

She nodded, going to the drinks tray.

Some time later, Luis heard voices, realizing Diego and Maria were arriving. He got to his feet, taking Maria's hands into his and kissing her on both cheeks.

"Good to see you again, Maria," Luis said. "Great dress." Maria was wearing a brown silk shift that showed her beautiful figure more by hinting than by displaying.

"Thank you, Luis. You always liked subtle better than blatant." Smiling, Luis nodded. Diego saluted his friend silently, moving to the love-seat opposite. He had changed to black trousers with a pale grey lawn shirt. He held out his hand to Maria, who was showing signs of sitting down beside Luis. Frowning, she joined Diego.

Soft, rapid footsteps were heard on the stairs. Luis and Diego rose, as Cordelia approached. She wore a camisole dress of aquamarine silk with thin straps. The slightly flaring skirt ended in a flirty ruche just at the knee. Luis hoped no one had heard him suck in a breath at the sight of her. How on earth would he be able to keep his eyes away from her beautiful breasts, he wondered. For that matter, he noticed Diego was also taking a second look.

"Cordelia, come and sit down," said Luis hospitably, indicating the seat beside him. Cordelia acknowledged Diego and Maria, sitting down where Luis indicated.

The moment the foursome was complete, Dolores appeared again, this time with a young man in black trousers and a white shirt, carrying a big tray of tapas, which he put on the coffee table between the two love-seats.

"Amontillado, Don Luis?" Dolores asked, putting down four small plates with delicate linen napkins.

Luis nodded. "Por favor." In an aside to Cordelia, he explained, "My father went to Spain to visit relatives. He met and married my mother there. Dolores became my mother's companion, after my father died. When my mother died, two years later, I asked Dolores to come run my household for me. She and my mother probably spoke more Spanish than English, and even now Dolores finds Spanish easier."

Diego and Maria glanced at each other. It was unusual for Luis to mention anything about his family. Diego shrugged very slightly. After all, doing a little Googling could discover these bare facts about Luis and his family. Still--

Meanwhile, Dolores offered elegant crystal glasses of Amontillado on a silver tray. When they were served, Luis raised his glass, saying, "¡Salud!" The others hastened to respond with "¡Salud!" Luis glanced at Cordelia, silently rebuking himself for liking what he saw a little too much. He realized full well that any attempt on his part to start an affair with her would be met with a furious refusal. Worse, she'd walk away from Luz, if he made it impossible for her to stay. He sighed.

"You pronounced 'Salud' exactly right," he smiled.

She smiled back. "I've always had an ear for languages, and learned a little Spanish, Italian and even Greek, before I went on that trip."

"I hope you learned to say 'No, I'm not that kind of girl' in all three languages," said Diego, grinning. "A woman so beautiful...was it a business trip?"

Cordelia shook her head, and Luis noticed again the silky pale auburn hair dancing above her shoulders. Idly, he noticed the copper, honey, gold, bronze highlights.

"No," she said, "My father gave me the trip as a vacation. You see--I had been working very hard to graduate a year ahead of my class."

"You wanted to get a head start on the best jobs?" Maria wondered out loud.

Again, Cordelia shook her head. She said quietly, "No. My mother was very ill, and the doctor didn't give her much longer. So I thought if I worked like the proverbial beaver, my mother might still see me graduate. That was something she was looking forward to, you see. And she did--see me graduate, I mean. She died a couple of months later. I wasn't sure about accepting the vacation, thinking my father might need me to be there for him, but he was adamant." She stilled. No one could be interested in this.

She saw Luis lift a slim black brow, his dark eyes concerned and full of sympathy, silently asking her to go on. Thus encouraged, she continued.

"When I came back from the trip, it was obvious that I needn't have worried. My father and his Personal Assistant were seen lunching, dining and so on, together. I didn't know that they had been lovers for a long time."

"Oh, honey, that must've been hard to take. You must've loved your mother dearly to work so hard, just so she could see you graduate, and then to see her so quickly replaced." Maria's golden eyes were compassionate.

Cordelia gently shrugged one shoulder. "Yes, it was, but I hope I never showed my father how upset I secretly was. He had a right to the life he wanted."

"And now?" Luis asked.

"My father died about a year ago. He left nearly everything to his new wife, which I could understand. What was a little harder to understand was how she tried to have my mother's will overturned so she could also grab that money, which had been left to me."

"But that's unconscionable." Luis was indignant.

"She claimed that my mother had left part of my father's estate to me, and she felt she was entitled to that money. My brother, who is a lawyer..." she slanted a look at Luis, who smiled a little ruefully at her, "...proved that the money was from my mother's family and she was entitled to leave it to anyone she wanted. The judge agreed. In the end, her greed proved expensive, because the judge granted us costs."

"Does she live here, this woman? Do you sometimes run into her?" Maria asked, concern for Cordelia clear to read in her eyes.

"Yes, Pamela lives in a house on Frangipani Walk. That's in Ormond Beach. She's heavily into the social scene: Charities, well, you know," said Cordelia, with another little shrug.

"Strange, I don't seem to recall ever meeting a Pamela Dunleigh." Maria frowned, trying to remember.

"That's not surprising. After my father died, she took her maiden name back, so she is, again, Pamela Kennedy." Cordelia, unaware of having just dropped a live grenade into the conversation, reached for her glass of Amontillado and took another sip.

She became aware of an appalled silence, and glanced around, surprised. Mistakenly assuming that the name 'Kennedy' had been the cause of the dismay, she said hastily, "Oh, she's not related to those Kennedys, but of course she hopes people will think she is."

"You used to take out Pamela Kennedy, didn't you, Luis?" Maria asked.

"Just once was enough," Luis said, his dark face a study in aloof displeasure. ¡Madre de Dios! Why on earth did Maria bring that up? Now Cordelia will be coldly furious with me.

He was about to do what he could, to save the situation, when the baby monitor at his belt gave out a thin cry. Instantly, Cordelia was alert, bending her head towards his waist.

"Luz," she said quietly. "Please excuse me." She got up so quickly Luis and Diego barely had time to rise politely. Already, Cordelia was halfway up the stairs.

"Excuse me," said Luis, and ran after her, taking the stairs two at a time, easily catching up with her as she reached the second floor. Dimly, he was aware of Diego berating Maria in rapid Spanish for trying to imply that Luis had had an affair with Pamela Kennedy.

He held Cordelia back, touching her arm gently. "Cordelia, you've been looking after Luz all day, please relax downstairs and let me do this. I guess she wants her bottle?"

Cordelia nodded. "Yes, I think so. Please, I'll be glad to do this for Luz," she said, turning away from him and hurrying to the baby's room.

"Please don't turn away from me, Cordelia. How could I know that Pamela Kennedy, whom I escorted just once to a charity event, is a woman you rightly despise?" Luis said, clearly upset.

Cordelia smiled gently at him. When they reached Luz's room, she hurried to Luz, picking her up, whispering, "Poor Luz, you're hungry and you need a new diaper. Well, first a diaper, right?" Deftly, Cordelia removed the wet diaper, disposing of it in the pail. She quickly filled a bowl with warm water and began to wash the baby. She turned to Luis. "See how sore she is? That's after two generous applications of this diaper rash ointment. But I'll keep on with it, and in another few days she won't be so sore any more." She bent over the baby and put on a new diaper. She said softly, "Would you like to have a bottle now? Tell me, would you like your daddy to give you the bottle, honey?"

Lifting Luz from the changing table, she gestured for Luis to sit down in the nursing chair.

"You'll give her only half the bottle, then stop and burp her, before you give her the rest?" she asked, her eyes anxious.

Luis nodded, holding out his hands to take Luz from Cordelia, who shook her head.

"You sit down and make yourself comfortable, then I'll give you Luz and the bottle." She smiled.

"Thank you," Luis said softly.

He thought that 'comfortable' was not a word that described how he felt, right at that moment. All because of Cordelia, who hadn't a clue that his 'thank you' was because she wasn't upset with him for taking the Pamela woman to that charity thing. He still remembered it with horror. However predatory, brazen and aggressive most women were around him, she took the cake. Her damn hands were everywhere. Suddenly he wished he could feel Cordelia's hands all over him. ¡Bastante! He didn'twant to disgrace himself, sitting with his daughter in his arms and a huge erection for Cordelia. No way.

"I'm sorry Maria mentioned Ms. Kennedy," he said quietly, once Luz was drinking happily. Cordelia, tidying up the table, turned to him.

"You don't owe me any explanation, Mr. Montoya," she said calmly. "One's private life should be just that--private. I am here only for Luz, and wouldn't dream of intruding into your uh...personal concerns."

"I do want you to realize that my personal concerns do not include Ms. Kennedy in any way, shape or form. Her behaviour was truly appalling." He decided to say no more, not wishing to upset Cordelia further. To his relief, she smiled at him.

After a little while, Cordelia suggested, "Should I take Luz from you now? She's had about half the bottle, and needs to be burped."

"But if she spits up over your beautiful dress?" Luis objected.

Cordelia smiled. "Well, this dress is washable, and my room is just next door. If Luz spits up, I could--" Suddenly she caught on. "Oh, of course. You've been away from Luz for quite a while and wish to burp her. Let me put a towel over your shoulder, just in case she spits up."

Luis carefully removed the bottle from Luz's grip, and got to his feet. He saw that Cordelia had found a big towel in one of the table's drawers. She now draped this over Luis. He held his daughter against his shoulder, patting her back slowly and gently. When Luz let out a big burp, both adults laughed.

When Luis finished feeding and burping Luz, he put her back into her crib. He waited until he was sure she was asleep, and held out his hand to Cordelia in an impulsive gesture. "Let's go back downstairs." To his delighted surprise, Cordelia quietly slipped her hand into his.

* * *

In the night, Cordelia was awakened by a thin little cry coming from the baby monitor she had hung over the head of the bed. Instantly alert, she flew out of bed and hurried to the baby's room.

Lifting the baby from her crib, she soothed, "Luz, honey, are you hungry? Of course you are. Oh, and you need a new diaper, I think. Yes, you sure do." She put Luz down on the changing table, and hastily removed a smelly diaper, which she wrapped in several paper towels and a plastic bag, before disposing of it in the pail. She hastily switched on the extractor fan, filled a bowl with warm water and began to wash Luz more thoroughly than usual, soothing her skin with the ointment again.

"There, all done," she said, quickly putting a fresh diaper on her. "Poor darling, you must've been so uncomfortable in that diaper," she whispered to the baby.

At that moment, Luis hurried into his daughter's bedroom. Surprised, Cordelia turned around and couldn't hold back a little breathless gasp.

He's handsome in his clothes, but like this...he's spectacular. She took in the unruly hair, the slight shadow on his taut jaw, the pale yellow silk robe which, untied, had flown open as he hurried from his bedroom to his daughter's. His athlete's chest had firm pectorals, outlined by silky black body hair. The thin silk pajama bottoms could not hide his being unusually well-endowed. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen, she mused distractedly.

For his part, Luis knew that he'd undoubtedly arrive later than Cordelia. But he slept nude, so he had to waste time putting on pajama bottoms and a robe.

He was amused to note Cordelia had been in such a hurry to stop Luz's cries that she had forgotten to put on a robe, which was quite all right with him. As she bent over Luz, backlit by the light over the changing table, he could not help but stare at her beautiful body, veiled in gentle folds of some sort of gossamer fabric, it seemed to him. Silently, he berated himself for wishing fervently she would turn around.

And then she did turn around, Luz in her arms. "Would you like to hold Luz, while I get a bottle for her to drink a bit from? Just enough to stop her little stomach from growling and keeping her awake."

Luis tried his best not to stare at Cordelia's breasts as she put Luz into his arms.

"Muchas gracias," he said dreamily.

She smiled at him. "You're still half asleep," she said contritely. "Why don't you go back to bed? You must be so tired from your long trip, the change in time zones?"

He shrugged dismissively. "I didn't fly in from Australia. I came from L.A, just three hours earlier than here. Moreover, I slept for quite a while on the flight across. No, I've probably had more rest than you, the last little while, and I'd really like to give Luz her bottle."

"As you wish," she said quietly, almost formally. She went to the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of formula, warming it in a bowl of hot tap water. After a while, she shook a few drops onto the inside of her wrist, nodding and giving him the bottle.

"Why do you shake some milk onto the inside of your wrist?" he asked, settling Luz comfortably with her bottle.

"It's a sensitive area," she said, busying herself with the already tidy table, unaware that this gave him another fascinating view of her back and her long, beautiful legs.

"Ah, yes, of course. It's an erogenous zone, after all," he said quietly, careful not to look at her.

He was amused at her sharp intake of breath, her repressive, "Mr. Montoya, when we're here looking after Luz, neither of us formally dressed--Oh, I forgot to put on my robe..."

Her voice trailing away, she hurried toward the door, when he stopped her, saying calmly, "Cordelia, you're covered by several layers of whatever that fabric is. You may be sure that, if anything were on view, I'd already have seen it. Just relax, will you?"

"As you wish," she said again, sounding more formal than he liked. She went on, "Well, I don't think you should be talking about erogenous zones. I'm just here to take care of Luz."

"Of course you are, and I assure you I merely stated a fact. When you explained about the inside of your wrist being most sensitive, I suddenly remembered that it's considered an erogenous zone, that's all."

Cordelia tried not to look into his eyes. Too dangerous, too intimate, she thought. She said rather hastily, "I think Luz has drunk enough for her little nighttime snack. Do you want me to burp her or will you?"

"It's probably easier if I do it. I can take off my robe, so if she spits up, I'll only have to wash my shoulder and back." He was amused to hear Cordelia's little gasp when she heard his intention of taking off his robe.

"Oh, y-yes, of course," she said. "I can put a towel over your shoulder."

"Good idea," he said. "Let me just shrug out of this robe." He did just that, holding Luz to him first with one, then with the other arm. Cordelia approached with the towel. As she came close to him, she felt dizzy for a moment when she caught the scent of his skin, a scent so masculine, so totally overwhelming. Her mouth went dry, and he lifted a slim, winged brow when he saw her lick her lips with the tip of her tongue. I'm getting to her, just as she's getting to me.

Immediately, he berated himself for his visions of having her, naked and willing, in his bed. He should remember she was his one chance of having Luz looked after lovingly while Diego tried to find a new nanny. Surely that was more important than taking her to his bed, and inevitably having her walk out on Luz.

I've been alone too long, he thought. Maybe I should call Chantal and invite myself over. But he knew he wouldn't. Because Chantal's charms, too blatantly displayed, had failed to stir him for some time.

Chapter Three

Five days later, a new nanny arrived. A middle-aged, uniformed, arrogant woman, she virtually bristled with expertise. She was accompanied to the front door by one of the security guards, who carried her luggage.

"Just leave the luggage here, Evans. I'll ask the housekeeper to have someone take the cases to Nanny's suite," said Diego. He continued, "Welcome, Nanny," his voice showing none of his dismay when he realized that this cold, hard-looking woman was going to take care of Luz. How had that damn employment agency got around Luis, making him believe this woman was fit to look after his daughter?

"Luz's bedroom and playroom are upstairs, as is your own suite, Nanny," said Diego easily. "Did Mr. Montoya discuss with you--"

Nanny interrupted him. "I discussed the baby only with the person who hired me, a Mrs. Alvarez," said Nanny repressively.

"I see," said Diego. He wondered, had Maria totally lost her marbles, hiring this Marine sergeant in drag to look after poor Luz? His face giving nothing away, he said, "This way, please, Nanny. This is Luz's room." He opened the door and let Nanny precede him. "I believe Luz's schedule is posted by the changing table. Yes, there it is."

Nanny gave him a repressive look. "I'll have my own schedule," she said, and ripped the schedule Cordelia had painstakingly written out off the wall. She threw it into the wastebasket.

Now thoroughly worried, Diego said, "How can a small baby like Luz adapt to a different schedule? This is what she's used to."

Nanny threw Diego a poisonous look and said, "The baby will learn to adapt."

Luz awoke and, upset at hearing the rough, loud voice, she began to cry. Cordelia, who did not know about the new nanny, sprinted up the stairs as quickly as she could, hurrying to the baby's room. Surprised at finding Diego and an older woman there, Cordelia went quickly to the crib, lifting Luz in her arms.

"It isn't quite time for your bottle yet, Luz, honey, but I think your diaper is wet. No matter, we'll soon have you all dry and soothed with the ointment," Cordelia cooed to Luz and laid her down on the table. Happy to hear the familiar, loving voice, Luz began to wave her arms and made little gurgling noises.

Nanny chose that moment to say, "Get away from that baby, you fool. Babies should learn early that crying doesn't automatically get them attention. This one will learn, too."

Incensed, Cordelia said, "But she's wet. And her name is Luz."

Nanny snorted, "Babies don't understand names. Get away from that baby."

Now deeply upset, Cordelia said in a shaking voice, "Luz knows her name, she understands. And she never cries without reason."

Nanny, now thoroughly exasperated by this infringement of her authority, seized Cordelia's arm and tried to drag her away from Luz.

"Take your hands off me, you storm-trooper," Cordelia exclaimed, but Nanny was stronger than she, and finally managed to push Cordelia out of the room.

Luis, who had heard the beginnings of this altercation on the monitor in his library, flew up the stairs to investigate, passing a sobbing Cordelia without noticing her, in his anxiety to get to his daughter.

As soon as Diego saw him, he said, "Luis, I'm afraid that Maria made a serious error in judgment in--"

Nanny's rough voice shouted him down. "This baby has been thoroughly spoiled by that woman who hurried to her the moment she began to cry."

"I prefer that my daughter be seen to the moment she cries," said Luis coldly.

"Don't interfere. I'll soon have this baby behaving according to my methods," said Nanny angrily.

"Luz is my daughter, and I will 'interfere' as you call it, any time I see fit to do so," said Luis, his eyes black with rage and colder than an Arctic night.

He went to the table, where Luz was still lying, unhappily looking around, crying softly. Luis picked her up and held her to his chest. To his dismay, he felt her diaper was wet. He turned to Nanny with glacial fury.

"My daughter is soaking wet, and you want her to lie in bed learning your methods? ¡Bastante! Step away from my daughter. Now! You'd do well as a drill sergeant in a boot camp, but you're totally unsuited to take care of my daughter.

"Diego, call our security chief and have this woman removed from my house, from the grounds. Next, pay off the agency and express our extreme dissatisfaction with this woman, who is not fit to be around helpless children. Make sure you tell them that. Thank you."

Luis turned to his daughter. "Luz, honey, I know," he soothed, softly kissing his daughter's silky black curls. "You miss Cordelia. Well, Daddy will get her back for you."

He heard Diego dragging Nanny out of Luz's room and alerting the security chief on his cell phone.

Placing his daughter back on the changing table, Luis quickly stripped the wet diaper off her. He frowned for a moment, trying to remember what Cordelia always did. Ah, yes, she washed Luz and then she put some sort of ointment on her. He ran some tepid water into a bowl, and washed Luz as gently and carefully as he could. He found the tube of ointment, applying it tenderly to Luz's still slightly sore skin. He was relieved to see quite an improvement since Cordelia had drawn his attention to Luz's inflamed skin. Which reminded him, where was Cordelia?

He recalled vaguely hearing Cordelia exclaim on the monitor, "Take your hands off me, you storm-trooper." That nanny person must have manhandled Cordelia out of Luz's room. Holding his daughter tightly, Luis whispered under his breath, "If that bitch has hurt Cordelia, she'll wish she wasn't born." He kissed Luz's hair. "Let's go find Cordelia."

Aware that he should have put fresh clothing on Luz, he wrapped her in a soft downy blanket and glanced through the open door into Cordelia's bedroom. No one there. He walked down the stairway with the baby, who was delighted with the unexpected trip and gurgled happily in her father's arms.

"Cordelia?" Luis called, as soon as he was in the family room. Silence. Where could she be? He glanced into several of the rooms Cordelia had redone, pleased to see what a difference her light touch had made. He walked slowly with Luz to the huge main reception room, and there was Cordelia, kneeling on the newly finished, much lighter parquet floor, sobbing her heart out.

"Cordelia?" Luis called softly. Luz gurgled. In a flash, Cordelia turned around.

"Luz?" she said almost inaudibly, rising quickly from her kneeling position and hurrying to Luz, who stretched out her arms to Cordelia with a big smile. For a moment, Luis thought his own heart would break, when he saw how happy his daughter was to see Cordelia--and how elated Cordelia was to see Luz again.

Confused, Cordelia gazed at Luis. "I don't understand--" she faltered. He felt himself seized by a profound rage at the bruises on her arms, reading in her drowned eyes the pain for Luz's fate at the hands of that blasted woman. After all, he had been there immediately to protect Luz from that woman, but Cordelia--

"The storm-trooper is gone," said Luis, giving his daughter into Cordelia's arms. Luz gurgled, laid her head against Cordelia's shoulder, and began to drowse happily, a thumb in her mouth.

When he saw the blissful expression on Cordelia's tear-stained face, he said gently, "Let's go sit in the family room for a bit. We need to talk. Do you want me to carry Luz?" He was amused and touched when he saw her determinedly shake her head, heard her soft, "No, please, I--" He realized she couldn't talk past the huge lump in her throat. Small wonder, she had been so terribly upset.

He frowned. What had he heard on the monitor? Did that nanny say that she had been hired by Maria? What had got into her to hire that gorilla? Didn't Maria realize how happy Luz was with Cordelia? He shook his head. He'd have a word with Diego; ask him to get Maria to back off.

But wait. That first evening when Cordelia had dinner with them, Maria made sure that Cordelia heard about that Kennedy woman, making it sound as if he'd had an affair with the slut. He'd told Cordelia it was one disastrous occasion only. But what could Maria hope to gain by that? Cordelia's anger against himself? He frowned again. Clearly, he would have to have a very serious talk with Diego. Meanwhile, he would personally deal with Cordelia. If Diego was surprised, well, let him be.

When they arrived in the family room, Luis gestured for Cordelia to sit down on one of the love-seats, seating himself beside her. He was not surprised when Dolores, whom he suspected of mind-reading abilities, came in, asking, "Don Luis?"

"Good morning, Dolores. Ms. Dunleigh has been very upset. Tell me, what do you recommend?"

"A glass of red wine, Don Luis. It will soothe the Señorita's nerves. Coffee will only make it worse."

"Good idea, Dolores, and the same for me, please. Then, could you please find Señora Alvarez for me?"

"She went out early this morning, an appointment at her spa-salon. She has a luncheon with several other ladies, I heard."

"Ah. Thank you, Dolores." Evidently, Maria had seen to it that she wasn't around when the storm-trooper arrived. No matter. She had to return some time, and when she did, Diego would deal with her.

Dolores appeared quickly with two glasses of what Luis recognized as one of his best wines. Good. Only the best for Cordelia, who loved his daughter.

Raising his glass to her, Luis said quietly, "Salud." Cordelia smiled at him for the first time since the disaster with the storm-trooper, whispering, "Salud."

They drank and he was pleased to see a little colour returning to Cordelia's too-pale cheeks. He waited until she had put her glass back on the table.

"Cordelia, you're wonderful with my daughter, and I for one doubt very much that anyone could be as good with her as you. Would you, for Luz's sake, continue to occupy the suite next door to Luz's room? We could go back to your apartment and fetch some more clothes.... Well...?"

"You know that I love taking care of Luz, and of course it's easy now, because I'm working here anyway; the work is going more slowly, but you've been so generous in paying the crew for the extra time.

"But, Mr. Montoya, one day these rooms will be finished and I'll have to go to my next job. Already they aren't pleased with the delay caused by my being here several weeks longer than I had envisaged originally."

"Can you hire someone to take your place at Dunleigh Interiors? I'll be glad to pay the salary for any extra people you have to hire."

"Well, it isn't difficult finding someone to take over the management of the firm. Lance Dumaresq can do that. Of course, we'll also have to hire someone else to supervise my designs at my next job--"

"I can't see any difficulty with that. Please tell your cousin--Crystal, is it?" As Cordelia nodded, he went on. "Tell Crystal that I'll be delighted to pay whatever extra expenses are incurred by your remaining here to look after Luz."

"I'll try to hold down the expenses as much as I can," said Cordelia quietly. "You won't have to pay anything for Lance. He works there anyway, and will be only too pleased to take over the management of Dunleigh Interiors."

Luis smiled. She was surely an unusual woman. Now she was trying to save him money. He wondered who Lance was.

"Cordelia? Who is this Lance?"

"He is equally qualified as I, but is junior to me. He's very nice, and he's familiar with my work, so he can take over, work from my designs. There are people who feel they rate the senior designer. When I'm not there, Lance is. In a way, it's a promotion for him."

Luis was surprised to find he felt annoyed with Lance, who was so familiar with her work. Was that all he was familiar with? He wondered if there was something between this Lance and Cordelia.

"Is Lance the man who phones you here so often?"

"Yes." Cordelia sounded apologetic. "He needs my advice on some design aspects from time to time." She was surprised to see Mr. Montoya frown. Was he concerned that she would neglect Luz for Lance? She smiled to herself. Not a chance. Lance was in a gay relationship. But she decided not to tell Mr. Montoya.

Luis picked up his glass. "To you, and to our arrangement for Luz."

Cordelia reached for her glass and lifted it to Luis. "I'll be glad to drink to that."

* * *

Several weeks later, Cordelia said to Diego, "I wonder if I could have next Thursday evening off? I've a long standing dinner engagement that I'd hate to cancel."

"Cordelia, of course, you must go have dinner with your friends. I have an uneasy feeling that it's the first time you're going out since you started looking after Luz. Would you like me to make arrangements for you to have a day off regularly?"

"Oh, no, Diego. You know I love looking after Luz. What would I do with regular days off? If I need to do some personal shopping, I go while Luz is asleep and arrange with Dolores to have one of the maids sit in Luz's room. But thank you for this coming Thursday evening."

When Diego mentioned to Luis that Cordelia would be away next Thursday for a dinner engagement, Luis frowned.

"A dinner engagement? Por Dios, this coming Thursday I've agreed to escort Chantal to that charity dinner-dance at the Acapulco. I'm not sure I like Cordelia being away for the evening when I'm not here, either."

"Dolores has things well in hand, amigo. She'll have her gentlest maid sit in Luz's pretty, newly done room the whole time you and Cordelia are away, and she will call Dolores if there's so much as a peep out of Luz."

Luis shrugged, still not best pleased. "I suppose--" was all he would say.

* * *

The huge ballroom of the new, upscale Acapulco Hotel was beautifully decorated for the charity dinner-dance, which would benefit underprivileged children in the area.

There was a general buzz when Luis entered, immaculate and stunning in evening clothes. The famous movie star Chantal Deslauriers was clinging to his arm for all she was worth. She wore a shimmering silvery chiffon gown that was practically transparent and seemed to be glued on. It was so low-cut in front and back that Luis frowned uneasily at the prospect of Chantal's silicone-enhanced breasts popping out of their confinement. He wondered why Chantal had chosen this vulgar dress. She must be aware that he preferred subtle over blatant.

His face showing none of his private musings, he thanked the maître d' for guiding them to their table, allowing one of the waiters to pull out Chantal's chair.

Chantal pouted. Why hadn't Luis himself seated her? He seemed distracted this evening. Did he have some business problem on his mind? No matter. Once she succeeded in having him come back with her to her suite, she'd banish any distractions from his thoughts. After all, the man wasn't born who could resist her charms, she thought complacently.

"Luis, chériI should really be annoyed with you for neglecting me for so long. But when I phoned your house one day, Diego said you were in Australia, so I decided to forgive you, and make our reunion very, very special for you."

Dios, I've got to get out of this. Because no way do I want to go back to her suite.

Aloud, he said, his voice courteous and reserved, "I'm afraid that won't be possible this evening. I can't leave Luz alone for more than a few hours."

"But chéri, Diego told me you have a new maid who is so good with Luz. I think he said her name was Cornelia."

"Cordelia--as in King Lear, Chantal." Luis was grimly amused to see from her blank expression that the reference to Shakespeare's great play was totally lost on her. He added, "And she has a rare evening off tonight, so that means I'll have to be home for Luz."

"Chéri, what use is it being so very rich if you can't even order a maid to stay home because you want to go out and be with me? If you threatened Cornelia with dismissal if she didn't stay with your little girl, she'd soon change her tune."

Weary of discussing this any further with Chantal, who was intent on only one thing--having him come to her suite--he said quietly, "I don't expect you to understand."

Chantal's narcissistic chatter bored him, and he was secretly disgusted with the avid, prurient glances thrown in her direction by men at nearby tables. Why couldn't she have worn an elegant, understated dress, instead of this vulgar rag?

He glanced away from her and let his eyes roam over the other diners. His dark eyes blazed when, half a dozen tables away, he spotted Cordelia at a table for two. She had her back to him, so he got a good look at her escort, a tall, handsome man with darkish hair, wearing faultless evening attire, he had to admit. Adept at hiding his thoughts behind an inscrutable facial expression, he turned back to Chantal, who was digging her fingers into his arm.

"Luis, chéri, what is the matter with you this evening?"

Just as he was about to issue a bored disclaimer, the band began to play. Luis recognized the enticing rhythm of the merenguë.

"I want to dance this," Chantal exclaimed, loud enough for several tables around them to hear. If he did not agree to dance with her, men nearby would vie for the chance of getting their arms around her. He sighed and rose.

"If you insist," he said, leading her to the dance floor.

When they arrived there, he discovered that the dancers had formed a circle around one couple dancing the merenguë as it should be danced. As he had seen it danced in the Dominican Republic. He stood, entranced by the footwork of the dancers, coldly hushing Chantal's increasingly strident demands that she wanted to dance, now.

He looked up at the dancers' faces, and was shocked to see Cordelia, looking more animated than he had ever seen her. He glanced at the man with her, and had to admit he was handsome, a well bred face, green eyes, dark chestnut hair. Was that why Cordelia kept her distance from him? Because of this man?

That's probably Lance. Luis was quietly furious. I was right in surmising there's something between them, although she tried to pretend it was all business.

The dance came to an end. The people who had been watching applauded spontaneously. Luis saw Cordelia curtsy shyly, while Lance bowed politely, formally, putting his hand at Cordelia's waist, guiding her back to their table.

Damn! I wanted her to see me. Luis turned wearily back to Chantal who was now dragging him by the arm to the dance-floor. He was glad to find that the next number was a lively samba. This wouldn't please Chantal, who was looking for a chance to plaster herself against him. He always felt she was having vertical sex with him, so explicit were her moves. ¡Dios! And I put up with that. But not any more. He held Chantal a little farther away than even the samba required, thwarting her efforts to adhere to him like glue.

By nine o'clock, they had finished dinner, and Chantal began her campaign to get Luis to come back to her suite, rather than stay for more dancing. She had begun to realize Luis would not permit any clinging on the dance floor.

Patiently, he said, "I told you, Chantal. I can't be away from Luz this evening because Cordelia isn't there. Allow me to see you to your door."

"My door? Luis, if you don't stay with me this night, then I think--" Her eyes glittering angrily, she stopped herself at the last moment from making a complete break. Luis gave her the briefest of glances, shrugging disdainfully.

"I think you're right, Chantal. It's better we don't see each other again," he said calmly.

"Luis? Chéri, what are you saying?"

"I'm merely putting into words what you began to say. Goodbye, Chantal. Have a nice life." Luis bowed, turned on his heel and began the long walk back to the elevators. Phewwww--

* * *

When he got home, Adams driving his limousine, he found it was only nine-thirty. He walked to the family room, removing his jacket and tie. He undid the top of his dress shirt, taking out the cabochon-sapphire studs and matching cufflinks. He rolled up his sleeves, throwing himself onto one of the love-seats. He toed off his shoes, reaching down to remove his thin socks. Leaning his head against the cushions, he sighed. He muttered to himself, "That's a lot better than having to put up with Chantal. Dios, how she bored me. But I'll have something to say to Cordelia about this Lance."

After some time, Diego strolled into view. "You're home early, Luis. I've been over here, in case Luz should wake. I figured you wouldn't drag yourself in until the wee hours." He sat down opposite Luis, glancing more sharply at his friend.

"Luis? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Diego. I finished with Chantal, and no doubt you realize how relieved I was to get away from her."

"But it has you annoyed?"

"No, of course not. Chantal never meant enough to me to annoy me. No, I'll tell you what really irritated me. Cordelia was at the dinnerin the Acapulco, with this guy, probably Lance.

"Their table was easily visible from where I was seated, and she had her back to me, but I could tell from the guy's lively interest that they were having a far more exciting evening than I was with Chantal. Dios, how she bored me. I'm glad that's over." Luis shrugged himself more comfortably into the cushions, and continued.

"Anyway, Chantal wanted to dance, so we went to the dance floor. They were playing a merenguë, and when we arrived, the other dancers stood in a circle watching one couple dancing. It was Cordelia and that guy, Lance. Imagine them dancing so professionally, people stopped to watch them, applauding when they finished. ¡Madre de Dios!" Luis turned away, burying his face in his hands. "I'm tired."

Diego rose and poured a glass of wine for each of them. "Here, that'll make you feel a bit better perhaps," he suggested, sitting down again opposite his friend.

"Luis, you knew she was going out to dinner this evening. Anyway, she's home; I saw her come in, a while ago. What is it now? Ten-fifteen. Not much room for hanky-panky?"

Luis sniffed disdainfully. "It's a matter of complete indifference to me what Cordelia does on her evenings off. I just wish she hadn't lied about Lance being merely a business colleague."

"But Luis, you don't know that she lied about that. Why didn't you go over to her and make her introduce you to the guy? Then you'd have been sure."

Luis shrugged contemptuously. "I wasn't interested enough," he said, his voice dismissive.

"I'm glad to hear that," said Diego, throwing his friend an eloquent glance. "Oh, by the way, I've been meaning to tell you. Maria and I had a long talk about why she hired that god-awful nanny, when you had arranged for Cordelia to take care of Luz. Maria said that Cordelia seems so vulnerable, and you seemed interested in her. She thought if you started something with Cordelia and then you broke it off, the way you invariably do, Cordelia would be heartbroken. So she thought she'd try to find a new nanny for Luz, which meant that Cordelia would be able to get on with her designs, and be out of here before you could put the make on her."

"I had no idea Maria had such a low opinion of me," said Luis, his voice chilly.

"Of course she doesn't have a low opinion of you. She was merely concerned for Cordelia, so defenceless. When you escort all these international models and actresses, Maria is glad for you to have a temporary playmate. They can hold their own. When you break it off, they shrug and turn around to find another rich guy. Their hearts aren't involved, any more than yours is. But Cordelia--" Diego shrugged one shoulder, and went on,

"Maria said to Cordelia that she's a born mother. Cordelia told her she had mononucleiosis when she was thirteen, and the doctor said that meant she'd be infertile. Such a lovely woman, so loving with Luz--" Diego let the sentence trail off.

Luis raised a slim black brow. "And Maria was afraid Cordelia might extend those feelings to Luz's father? Not a chance. She seems to be hung up on this Lance. Be sure to reassure Maria, and tell her to stay out of my private life."

Diego frowned at Luis's last remark, and said, "Maria only meant--"

"Yes, you told me several times, she wanted to protect the virginal Cordelia from my predatory ways."

Suddenly, Luis seemed to realize that he had been most unkind to Diego about his wife, and he hastened to make amends.

"Pay no attention to me, Diego. I'm in a foul mood tonight. And I understand what Maria was trying to do. It proves she has a good heart. Anyway, you can reassure her about Cordelia. I think I'll go to bed. Luz is bound to wake at three or four in the morning."

"But Cordelia will take care of her, Luis. You get a good night's sleep, now."

"Yes, I will. Buenas noches, Diego."

But once Luis composed himself for sleep, he found sleep was elusive.

At about three o'clock, the baby monitor emitted a little cry from Luz. He waited, to see if she would continue to cry or fall asleep again, but the next sound he heard was Cordelia's soft voice.

"Luz, honey, did something wake you? You come here. Oh, oh, your diaper is wet. Well, we'll soon fix that, mmm?" For a little while there were no sounds except a clang, then a rustling. Luis nodded. Yes, that was Cordelia disposing of the wet diaper, unpacking a fresh one. Next, he heard Luz's happy gurgles, as Cordelia presumably washed her and put that ointment on again before giving her a new diaper. Then he heard Cordelia's voice again. "There's my beautiful girl, all clean again. I'll just put you back into your--No? Isn't that what you want? Tell you what. I'll sit here in this chair for a little while with you in my arms, and let you fall asleep like that? Would you like that, Luz, my little love?"

Luis heard no more. She and Lance couldn't have--She'd have been too tired to hear that tiny little cry from Luz. In any case, he'd get to the bottom of this Lance thing. He'd be sure to meet her at breakfast. Pleased with his decision, Luis finally slept.

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