Lazaro was waiting for her by the front door, which was open, and Skye walked over, very conscious of her casual attire, feeling very underdressed for this majestic place.
There was a stone over the doorway that proclaimed Hacienda Armonía. She said out loud, ‘Estate of... Harmony?’
‘You speak Spanish?’
Skye avoided Lazaro’s eyes. She shrugged. ‘A little.’ She was actually practically fluent, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to invite his laser-like gaze and inevitable questions.
They passed through the main hallway and then into an open central courtyard set in the middle of the hacienda. Skye’s mouth dropped open as she turned around in a circle, taking in the cobblestones and flowering plants everywhere. A colourful bird darted nearby. It was idyllic.
She followed Lazaro as he showed her through to a terrace at the back of the hacienda. It bordered formal gardens and a swimming pool was tucked behind blooming bougainvillea plants in vibrant purples and pinks.
‘Señor Sanchez!’
They both turned to see a middle-aged woman approaching them with a worried look on her face. She spoke rapidly, exclaiming that they were earlier than expected.
Skye watched with interest as Lazaro took the woman’s hands in his and calmed her down, telling her not to worry. The woman smiled. There was genuine warmth between them.
He turned to Skye, and some of that warmth faded. She felt it like a chill breeze over her skin.
‘Skye, I’d like you to meet Almudena—my housekeeper. She lives in the gate lodge with her family, and her husband oversees the farming and gardening and general maintenance.’
Skye stepped forward and extended her hand. ‘Mucho gusto.’
Almudena smiled. ‘El gusto es mio.’
Skye could feel Lazaro’s eyes on her, assessing her. To her relief he said, ‘Almudena will show you to your room. When you’ve rested we’ll have dinner on the terrace.’
‘Okay.’
She was relieved to have a moment to gather herself, out of Lazaro’s immediate orbit. The effect of that kiss on the plane still lingered in her blood. She felt too exposed around Lazaro. Not sure of who she was any more. He scrambled her brain.
* * *
Lazaro watched Skye disappear up the stairs with a beaming Almudena, who had obviously taken to her. Skye seemed to have that effect on people. He’d seen her interact with her customers in the restaurant the night they’d met and had witnessed the effect of her sunny disposition on them.
He’d wanted her to look at him like that. And then, when she had, he hadn’t been prepared for the effect. Or how it would make him feel to see her treat everyone the same. Even if there had been a palpable electricity between them that had elevated their bond beyond the merely polite.
A vivid memory flash of how it had felt to slide into her hot, tight body came back to him, and Lazaro cursed. Their interaction had been far from polite...
He turned away from where he was standing, looking into space, and strode back into the hacienda and to his study. He switched on his computer and reminded himself of what his priority here was: damage control.
* * *
Skye had showered and changed into the black skirt she’d brought with her and worn that first night, and a clean long-sleeved top. They were all the clothes she had with her, and she tried not to feel too self-conscious.
She wandered downstairs and began exploring the gardens, which were filled with surprises. She found a hammock stretched between two trees in one corner. A table inlaid with mosaics and stone seats strewn with coloured cushions in another corner. There were lounge beds dotted around the place, and several lined up by the pristine-looking swimming pool.
It was decadent and luxurious. And totally peaceful. Hacienda Armonía, indeed.
It seemed slightly incongruous when she thought of Lazaro and the man she’d discovered when she’d looked him up online. This didn’t seem like the habitat of a ruthlessly ambitious and driven playboy. There wasn’t a sound except for the crickets and planes far above in the sky, travelling to the other side of the world.
It was so peaceful—
‘Here you are.’
Skye turned around to see Lazaro strolling towards her, dressed in a fresh white polo shirt, open at the neck, and faded jeans. Every provocative line of his powerful body seemed to be moulded and emphasised by his clothes, and she found it hard to breathe for a moment.
How had she ever caught his eye?