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‘Si, Señor Acosta, y muchas gracias.’
Señor Acosta? Maxie groaned inwardly. ‘So you’re Diego Acosta?’
‘Correct,’ he confirmed.
The ironic twist to the firm mouth might make her senses roar but this wasn’t the best of starts. Acosta might look more like a dangerous pirate than an international polo player, but his co-operation was crucial as he part-owned the island. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Señor Acosta,’ she said as she stepped with relief onto the shore.
Ignoring the hand she had extended in greeting, he turned away.
Diego Acosta wasn’t sophisticated and he wasn’t charming. He certainly wasn’t her usual type of wedding contact, who looked to Maxie for guidance. The idea of this man looking to anyone for direction was a joke.
‘Give me your bags, Fernando,’ he called out in Spanish, staring out to the boat over her head.
Diplomacy was an essential part of her skill set, Maxie reminded herself. She had dealt with plenty of difficult characters in the past—starting her training on her father, who had been a Class One bully when she was younger, before illness had reduced him to a shell. She had learned how to handle him and she would learn how to manage Diego Acosta—though she would have to be subtle. She couldn’t risk offending him. The Acosta family was so powerful they could destroy her hard-won reputation at a stroke. ‘I’m Maxie Parrish,’ she said, stepping in front of him so he couldn’t ignore her. ‘Holly’s wedding planner?’
The dark gaze blackened. What the hell had she said now?
Parrish? Memories festered inside him, though common sense told him Parrish was not an unusual name.
‘I spoke with Holly before I left the mainland—’ the girl was explaining.
‘Parrish?’ he interrupted, powerless to stem the tide of memories.
‘Yes, Maxie Parrish,’ the girl repeated. ‘From a company called Dream Weddings. Holly said she’d call to warn you I was arriving today.’
‘She did,’ he agreed, ‘but she forgot to tell me your name.’
‘Is there a problem with it?’ she demanded, smiling faintly.
‘Not at all,’ he assured her in the same detached tone. ‘I suppose I was expecting someone older.’
‘I wouldn’t send anyone else to scout a job,’ she assured him in the same courteous tone. ‘I always make the first visit and the last, Señor Acosta, as well as every other visit in between.’
She said this as if it were a gauntlet she was throwing down, but pleasantly. He wasn’t fooled. He could sense the steel beneath the accommodating manner, and his hackles rose even as more basic needs surged in response to this intriguing combination of feminine fragility and rock-solid resolve. Either way, with his brother on a polo tour and his bride-to-be at his side, Diego was stuck with their wedding planner—like it or not.
Diego Acosta was staring at her and frowning as if he thought they might have met before, which was impossible. She never forgot a face—and would never forget a face like his. ‘I can only apologise if this is a bad time for you—’
And then she saw the cane.
She should cut him some slack, Maxie resolved. A man like Diego Acosta, stripped of his full physical powers, would not be having a bad time—he would be having the worst time imaginable. She had researched the family to get a sense of who they were, and knew one of the brothers had been injured in a riding accident, but she hadn’t realised he was still suffering or that he would be her host on the island.
‘I’ll take your suitcase,’ he offered brusquely.
Disaster struck as he lifted it. His cane skidded on a stone and he stumbled. She reached out to save him, but it was the worst thing she could have done. Cursing viciously, he snatched his arm away and made off in the direction of the car park with one leg dragging badly. In the faint hope of building bridges, she chased after him.
‘I hope the weather’s better than this in June,’ she yelled against the wind. Even limping with a cane he had opened up quite a gap. ‘This might not look like a great venue at first sight, but I’m not easily put off.’ She wasn’t even sure if he’d heard her. They were heading down a stony path in the direction of a car park, where the only vehicle was a powerful off-roader. ‘Holly assures me the island is beautiful in June…’
He wheeled around so suddenly she almost cannoned into him. ‘And what do you think, Ms Parrish?’
With Diego Acosta towering over her it was hard to think at all. ‘I haven’t seen enough to make a judgement yet,’ she said honestly, wondering if her heart would slow down long enough for her to breathe. She had never experienced this sort of reaction to a man before, but Diego Acosta exuded a powerful sexual energy, which for someone with below average experience of men was quite something to take in.
‘Do you expect me to show you around?’ he asked, wincing as he eased his leg.
‘How kind of you to offer,’ she said mildly. She could feel the resentment crackling round him, but she wouldn’t want anyone to see her in pain, either—and at least he wasn’t bundling her back on the next boat. ‘I look forward to hearing everything you can tell me about the island.’
‘I can see this is going to be an interesting trip, Ms Parrish.’
Her composure was shattered by a single, burning glance. ‘My thoughts exactly,’ she agreed, wafting the hair out of her face with a suddenly shaking hand. ‘Shall I put my suitcase in the back?’
Her intention had been to save him the risk of stumbling again, but she’d only managed to create more offence.
‘I’ll take it,’ he snapped, his expression darkening as he swung her heavy bag from the ground as if it weighed nothing.
‘That’s very kind of you. And please don’t worry, Señor Acosta. I won’t be hanging around. This isn’t a pleasure trip for me—it’s purely business.’
‘What else would it be?’ Folding his arms, he leaned his tight hips against the side of the vehicle.
Her heart juddered uncontrollably. Diego Acosta might be the most arrogant man on the face of the earth, but her body liked him—far too much. ‘All I need while I’m here is a map and a bike,’ she explained, doubting any woman could remain immune to quite so much man.
‘A bicycle? On these mountains?’ Resting his stubble-blackened chin on one shoulder, Acosta shot an ironic glance at the jagged peaks surrounding them.
‘A motorbike,’ Maxie explained. ‘Your brother, Ruiz, said you have one on the island?’
‘Did he?’ Diego Acosta replied coolly. Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion as he stared at her. ‘I trust you’re not suggesting I lend you my bike?’
Her stomach tightened as he straightened up to his full, imposing height. ‘I ride a bike at home.’ She had the satisfaction of seeing surprise colour his arrogant gaze, but in the interest of good business she decided not to push too hard on this yet. ‘I quite understand if you’d rather not lend your bike to a stranger—’
‘You haven’t seen my bike,’ he said, with all the confidence of a man who hadn’t met too many women like Maxie before. ‘I think you’d be safer taking the Jeep.’
She recoiled at the put-down, but all she said was thank you. Who liked being patronised? But this wasn’t about Maxie’s pride. She was here for the bride, and to earn the money that kept her father safe and well looked after in a nursing home. Glancing inside the vehicle, she hoped Diego Acosta would take the hint. He might be impervious to the elements, but she was freezing cold and wet. She was glad when he swung the door wide, and launched herself into the welcoming warmth of the luxurious interior.
‘Now we wait for Fernando,’ he announced, bringing the gale from hell with him as he entered the vehicle. Tossing his cane in the back, he swung into the driver’s seat using just the formidable power in his arms.
She hoped they wouldn’t have to wait long. Every part of her was prickling with awareness in the confined space. They were seated so close—too close. To distract herself she reached inside her bag to find her business card. ‘You can check me out on this website.’ She held it out to him. ‘There are plenty of reviews from satisfied clients. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed with the services I offer.’
‘I should hope not.’
Something in Diego Acosta’s voice made heat curl low in her belly in a way that was both inconvenient and inappropriate. Silence was her safest bet, Maxie concluded, noticing he barely glanced at her card before stowing it in a pocket on the door, where it would probably stay until it yellowed.
Fernando joined them soon after, much to her relief. She gripped the seat as they drove off, but she needn’t have worried as Diego Acosta drove with the same arrant confidence with which he appeared to do everything else.
‘How long do you plan to stay, Ms Parrish?’
‘That’s hard to say…’ Her senses sharpened when he met her glance. ‘Except I’ll be as time-efficient as I can be.’ She guessed this was to reassure them both. She had a real sense of invading the dark space of a man who had retreated to this remote island after his accident and who wanted to be alone—and she was in no hurry to stay a moment longer than she had to.
‘How do you normally proceed?’ he demanded.
‘I spend a few days researching the bride’s preferred venue, deciding if it’s viable or not, and then I make suggestions, with photographs to illustrate my thinking.’
‘And when the weather’s like this?’ he said abruptly, making a gesture that encompassed the storm ravaged landscape outside the windscreen. ‘How do you tempt the bride then?’
‘The sky seems to be brightening,’ she pointed out, determined not to be put off at such an early stage. ‘The bride is already in love with Isla del Fuego, Señor Acosta, and please believe me when I say I won’t get in your way.’
‘I can’t see how we can avoid each other on such a small island.’
She tried reasoning that he’d been injured and craved solitude, and yet had been thrown into the path of a wedding—the most social of occasions. No wonder he was climbing the walls. But did he have to kick her on the way?
‘You’re very quiet,’ he observed.
Staring at impossibly strong forearms and powerful yet sensitive hands could do that to a girl. She quickly dragged her gaze away.
‘Are you regretting your decision to arrange a wedding here, Señorita Parrish?’
‘On the contrary, my mind is buzzing with ideas.’ He needn’t know the details.
‘Your name?’ he queried thoughtfully as they slowed to take a bend. ‘It seems familiar to me. Are you sure we haven’t met before?’
‘It’s quite a common name.’ She said this to a soundtrack of Fernando snoring. ‘I’m sure we haven’t met before. I would remember. And I doubt we move in the same circles.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ he said, frowning.
‘Just that I have never been to a polo match and I doubt you crash weddings.’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t added polo to your list of things to do,’ he said sharply. ‘You have been hired to arrange the marriage of a high-profile polo player.’
His concerns on behalf of his brother were understandable. ‘I’ve read a lot about the game, and I’ve watched a lot of films regarding the sport, documentaries—you know.’
‘Which is hardly the same thing as attending a match.’
‘That’s something I intend to put right as soon as I can. I’m looking forward to it,’ she added keenly. ‘It looks such a thrilling game!’
‘It is.’
She could have bitten off her tongue when he shifted position to ease his leg.
‘How long have you been in the wedding business, Señorita Parrish?’
‘Please—call me Maxie. Everyone does.’
‘Are you going to answer the question?’ he said, ignoring the olive branch.
‘Both Holly and your brother have my references,’ she said, rattled by this inquisition.
‘It’s a simple question.’ Diego Acosta swung the wheel so abruptly she was thrown into the side of the vehicle as the off-roader lurched onto a minor road. ‘Why should I read your references when you’re sitting next to me and can give me the answers yourself?’ he added, with a certain amount of justification and a whole heap of ire.
Because she had edited her CV so carefully, maybe? ‘I’m happy to answer any question you care to put to me.’ Within reason, Maxie amended silently.
There was a lot of information about herself that she didn’t share—like the fact she had been in business since the onset of her father’s illness and the cost of his nursing care meant she couldn’t earn enough working for anyone else on a fixed salary. She had struck out on her own, determined and desperate, with one goal in mind: her father’s dignity and privacy had to be preserved. And it had been. And would continue to be, whatever provocation Diego Acosta tossed her way.
CHAPTER TWO
‘I’VE been arranging weddings for friends for as long as I can remember.’ Maxie had decided that if she was going to be forced to explain herself she might as well take the lead.
‘And why would they ask you?’ Diego Acosta demanded.
‘I guess because I was always the one who put on events at school. Arranging weddings turned out to be a natural progression of that.’ She only now realised that that was exactly what had happened.
‘How long is it since you left school?’
‘I’m twenty-six.’ And enough was enough. ‘I’ve been a successful wedding planner with my own company for over five years now, Señor Acosta.’
‘My brother led me to believe that his wedding planner would be someone older with a great deal of experience. And excuse me for saying so,’ he added, not sounding in the least bit sorry, ‘but you seem far too young to handle a job of this size and importance.’
‘All weddings are important to me,’ Maxie said, bridling. ‘And though I realise you are unlikely to have heard of me, please don’t judge a book by its cover, Señor Acosta. I may not wear a business suit while I’m traveling, any more than you wear one when you’re down on the dock, but I’m serious about what I do. And excuse me for saying so,’ she added, thinking it better to get things straight from the off, ‘I’m not your brother’s wedding planner. I was hired to do this job by Holly Valiant.’
‘I’m sure you’ll agree with me that Holly has a somewhat rose-tinted view of the island?’
‘As I said earlier, I haven’t had a chance to make any assessment yet. I’m completely impartial at the moment.’
And not about to roll over, Diego realised, fighting off the interest this provoked. If Maxie Parrish had anything to do with it this wedding would happen—and he was on notice. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had decided his agenda.
‘I do wonder,’ she said, distracting him, ‘if the island falls short in so many ways, why you chose to come here to recuperate?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ He couldn’t believe she had voiced those thoughts. No one mentioned his injury in front of him. No one even risked glancing at his leg. His brothers might—his sister Lucia definitely would. But strangers?
‘Sorry if I’m being nosy,’ she said. ‘I’m just curious as to what drew you here.’
‘Childhood memories,’ he said sarcastically, hoping that would shut her up. Everyone had tiptoed round him since the accident. No woman had ever challenged him. Yet this kid had jumped right in!
‘Whoa—slow down,’ she said, grabbing his arm as he stamped down on the gas.
He glanced at the tiny hand on his arm. She looked too, and quickly withdrew it. ‘I thought you liked speed?’ he mocked her, in a pointed reminder of her claim to ride a motorbike at home.
‘I ride my bike responsibly,’ she said mildly.
She wasn’t scared to take him on.
Seducing the wedding planner had never been part of his plan. It still wasn’t. He must have too much time on his hands even to let thoughts like that occur to him. The type of woman he favoured was older and knew the score. She knew how to dress and what to say. More importantly, she knew when to remain quiet. She did not look like a fresh-faced tomboy, who dressed like a boy and insisted on speaking to him like a man.
‘Are you all right, Fernando?’ She had turned to check on the elderly skipper.
‘My apologies if I woke you, Fernando,’ he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
The old man was more interested in hearing what Maxie had to say. ‘Soy muy bien… Gracias, Maxie,’ he was saying, in a fonder tone than Diego had heard him use before.
When the girl had settled back in her seat she shot a glance at him. Was she reassuring him that Fernando was okay? Or was she playing it her way and to hell with him? She might look like a kid, but there was a lot going on behind that shrewd grey gaze, and he couldn’t help wondering what other surprises Ms Parrish had in store for him.
‘And when exactly did you learn to skipper a boat?’
‘I helped to crew a yacht once—a friend at school. Her father was mad for sailing.’
He shot her a look that suggested she was mad. He couldn’t believe she had thought it safe to transfer such tenuous experience to the open ocean in a barely seaworthy tub, but it told him something about her. She wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Her cheeks pinked up when she caught his cold, assessing stare. Those pink cheeks told him everything he needed to know. Maxie Parrish might think she had all the answers, but she had none where he was concerned.
A client was always right. A client’s brother-in-law-to-be had rights also—just so long as Diego Acosta didn’t mistake her for a doormat. He had begun questioning her again about how she had grown the business so quickly. His lack of confidence in her was no big deal. It took time to win a client over. And, in his favour, the fact that this wedding was so important to him showed a strong family bond between Diego and his brother Ruiz.
‘I had arranged quite a few weddings already when I was asked to plan one for a friend who works in television. She was so thrilled by the results that when she returned from honeymoon she asked if I could present a wedding feature for Valentine’s Day—the perfect wedding, that sort of thing. Everything took off from there and I haven’t looked back since.’
‘But you haven’t organised a wedding on a small island, where deliveries are uncertain and the electricity supply is erratic at best,’ he pointed out.
‘That’s true. But generators can be hired, and I would have any supplies we need shipped over well in advance. I’m happy to take on the challenge.’
‘I’m sure you are. And you’re nothing if not prepared.’ He shot a glance at her wet clothes.
‘Had I known I would be sailing a boat today, I would have worn something more appropriate.’
‘Why were you in charge of the boat?’ He glanced at Fernando through the rearview mirror.
Maxie checked too, only to find Fernando was snoring again. ‘Fernando was feeling a little unwell and I was glad to help out.’ She left it there. Maybe Diego Acosta was trying to catch her out or embarrass her, but whatever his motive she wasn’t going to land Fernando in trouble. ‘I enjoyed the experience,’ she said, brushing it off as if the terrifying voyage through raging seas had been nothing to her, ‘and I never make the same mistake twice.’
‘I should hope not,’ Diego Acosta replied.
For some reason she was staring at his lips. She quickly looked away. She might be soaking wet and freezing, but her body was distinctly warm. ‘If Holly decides to hold her wedding here and we encounter any problems, rest assured. I will deal with them.’
‘That’s what you’re being paid for, isn’t it?’
Diego Acosta grimaced and eased his leg as he spoke. She’d already worked out his mood was largely affected by pain or lack of it. ‘It is what I’m being paid for,’ she confirmed. And now she was wondering why, with all the money in the world to buy the best treatment available, the injury was still troubling him. And if it hurt so much why didn’t he just take something for the pain, like everyone else?
‘If this job is going to be too much for you, I’d rather you said so now,’ he said, throwing her a lifeline she was supposed to grab eagerly and with gratitude, Maxie suspected.
‘I always make a full evaluation before I come to any decision,’ she explained calmly.
Her work as a wedding planner gave her such an intimate window into people’s lives it wouldn’t be the first time she had been invited in only for a client to draw back and ask themselves if this stranger would be sensitive to their needs, or if their most intimate secrets were about to be raked over and exposed to public scrutiny. Just because Diego Acosta was a testosterone-packed hunk it didn’t mean she would treat him any differently from the rest.
‘I think I’ve already explained that I won’t need to trouble you for most of my time here.’
‘If you stay on the island,’ he said, as if this was by no means certain.
‘Why wouldn’t I?’ she countered, careful to keep her tone bland and friendly. ‘Judging by your earlier remarks, I assume you wouldn’t want Fernando risking his fishing boat a second time in a storm.’
The elderly skipper chose that moment to stop snoring, and lost no time endorsing her words with heartfelt agreement. Maxie guessed Fernando was in no hurry to leave Isla del Fuego until he had received some coddling from Diego Acosta’s staff.
‘If there’s a hotel here,’ she added, ‘I don’t even need to trouble you for a room.’
‘This is a small private island, with a small resident community,’ Diego Acosta pointed out. ‘There are no hotels, as such.’
‘Perhaps bed and breakfast in a private house?’ Maxie suggested hopefully.
‘You will find no fairy godmothers on Isla del Fuego with rooms to spare, Señorita Parrish,’ Acosta informed her.
No wonder. If there had been a fairy godmother her wand would have withered to a twig by now.
‘You will stay with me,’ he said, with zero enthusiasm.
Maxie’s throat dried. Stay with him? Yes, it made sense, but—
When in doubt, smile and say thank you. That was the advice she always gave to anxious brides. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, and as that seemed to be the end of Diego Acosta’s welcome speech she directed her attention out of the window, to where the stubborn sea mist was lifting away like the curtains in a theatre, drawing back to reveal a scene that would make any audience gasp. Dramatic black peaks soared directly out of the raging sea, while at the side of the road luminous green foliage, made brilliant by the rain, competed for attention with striking banks of magenta blossom. ‘How wonderful,’ she murmured, forgetting the thunderstorm at her side for the moment.
‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Diego Acosta commented, with a particularly male brand of humour. ‘I live a rough, spare bachelor’s life on the island, with very few home comforts.’
‘I was referring to the view,’ Maxi explained, chalking one up to the wedding planner. ‘It’s absolutely stunning.’ And absolutely perfect for the wedding of a passionate couple like Holly and Ruiz, she thought.
Diego said nothing, but she noticed his fist tightening on the wheel. She guessed he would have preferred her to be a walk-over who would have given up on Isla del Fuego long before now, leaving him to brood alone. Hard luck, mister!
Did he read minds too? Maxie wondered when Diego Acosta shot her a glance. She was out of her depth here and they both knew it. She wasn’t exactly a vestal virgin. She knew enough about sex to hope that one day she’d meet someone who knew what they were doing. Diego Acosta knew. She could feel it. While he, like the hunter he most assuredly was, must have felt her heat as she responded to him.
‘There’s just one thing,’ he said.
Only one? ‘Yes?’ she enquired politely.
‘While you’re here you’d better call me Diego.’
She trialled the unfamiliar syllables beneath her breath. And shot bolt upright when she saw the look on his face. ‘Diego it is,’ she agreed, wondering if this might be just another ploy by Señor Acosta to make her feel uncomfortable.