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ursing home had given her the nod, so she was good to go. Diego had promised to introduce her to people who might be able to help her business further and was full of practical advice. There was no danger to her heart at all—which should have reassured her, but which left her with a niggling sense of regret.
The jet landed in brilliant sunshine, and her head was soon spinning with all the new sights and sounds. The thought of visiting not just Buenos Aires, the Paris of South America, but the pampas, with the most exciting man she had ever known, was exciting. She would soon grow accustomed to the seductive samba rhythms and the intoxicating scent of spice and heat and passion, Maxie reassured herself as Diego strolled towards a sleek black limousine.
So why the sense of doom approaching?
‘Please excuse me, Maxie,’ he said, fielding a call as they settled into the limousine with what seemed like acres of kidskin between them.
‘No problem,’ she murmured, knowing she would probably have to take quite a few business calls herself before they arrived at their destination.
One of the first things she noticed as they drove out of the airport was the colossal billboards lining the road. It was the first inkling she had of Diego’s place in Argentina. The billboards featured the impossibly good-looking Acosta brothers. She recognised the groom, Ruiz, right away—smiling down with confidence. Diego’s older brother, Nacho, appeared aloof. Kruz looked so laid back it was hard to imagine him in polo-warrior mode. And then there was Diego.
The same apprehension she’d felt when she got off the plane was back again, because Diego radiated danger. It was something in his eyes, Maxie concluded, glancing sideways at him. There were ghosts in Diego’s life she couldn’t begin to understand, and as theirs was a business relationship she could hardly ask him. He was still very much a mystery man, dangerously attractive and maybe dangerous to know. She wouldn’t like to be his opponent on the polo field, or anywhere else for that matter, that was for sure.
‘We’ll be staying in Buenos Aires for a couple of nights,’ he explained, stowing his phone. ‘You’ll get a chance to familiarise yourself with the city and with our usual suppliers. Then we’ll travel to the estancia and you’ll get the chance to see your first polo match. A friendly with Nero.’
Maxie laughed. ‘Is there such a thing as a friendly polo match?’
Diego’s mouth tugged fractionally. ‘You’ll soon find out.’
‘Nero must be a good friend?’
‘One of my closest. I trust him to tell me—’
Diego stopped and stared away, but she knew what he had been about to say. Nero would tell Diego if he was up to playing at international level. ‘Either way it will be an important match,’ she said.
‘The most important,’ Diego confirmed.
He didn’t need to tell her that the chance to play at international level again meant everything to him. She knew as soon as he could after the accident Diego had been back on a horse, and he’d been training relentlessly ever since. His leg was so much better now she was sure he had nothing to worry about.
After they had been driving for a while he asked the driver to pull over. ‘Empanadas,’ he said, pointing to a street stall. ‘Delicious little savoury pastries,’ he explained. ‘You’ll love them, Maxie. I’m starving. You must be too.’
‘I’m always ready to eat,’ she agreed with a smile. Diego was like a different man in Argentina. She should stop with the niggling doubts and make the most of this opportunity to do business with a man like no other. It would be something to hold on to when she went home to men with office pallor and perpetual sniffles, though she couldn’t help wishing that Diego had shown some inclination to kiss her again.
She laughed when he bought up half the stall. ‘This is crazy,’ she said as he shrugged, but the tiny pastries were delicious, and it was fun being together and relaxed for a change. She was amazed by how quickly people recognised Diego, and autograph-hunters were soon clustering round. ‘How do you cope?’ she asked him when they got back in the car.
‘I owe my success to these people,’ he said, dipping his head to wave out of the window. ‘I play to win for them.’
But when they drove off again, and a shadow crossed his face, she knew Diego was worrying that he might not live up to everyone’s expectations. He was returning to polo after a long time out through injury.
‘I’ll work on your leg right up to the match,’ she promised impulsively.
‘I’m counting on it,’ he said.
His dark, amused gaze made her heart thump like a jack-hammer. She was only doing a friend a favour, she reasoned, smoothing her jeans as an excuse to break eye contact. She had never risked getting too close to anyone, and she wasn’t getting close now. None of her relationships had lasted—partly because she’d chosen the wrong men, but mostly because she had never forgotten the way her father had treated her mother. Yes, her father had changed when her mother had become ill, but it would have been nice for her mother to have had some happiness before that.
When Diego glanced at her, as if suspecting she was visiting some past regret, she only wished she could explain what she was thinking. But they weren’t close enough for that—plus theirs was now a business relationship, and Diego had as many secrets as she did, Maxie suspected.
‘We’ll be staying at my apartment in the city,’ he explained, providing a welcome distraction. ‘You’ll have your own suite of rooms, and can come and go as you like while you’re in Buenos Aires.’
She had rather hoped Diego would show her round.
She pulled back when he suddenly wiped one firm thumb pad across the full swell of her bottom lip. ‘Crumbs,’ he explained.
The pastries, Maxie realised with embarrassment. ‘Is that it? Or am I covered in crumbs?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Diego murmured, his firm mouth tugging with amusement. ‘I can only see those on your mouth.’
And now her face was burning. Diego had definitely relaxed since they’d landed. Was he intentionally turning up the heat?
Whatever was happening, she had to keep her feet on the ground. She had a job to do, and for all she knew Diego had a squad of girlfriends waiting in Buenos Aires with another team on standby at the estancia. A man like Diego Acosta would hardly be without a significant other.
An idea she should waste no time getting used to, Maxie concluded when their limousine stopped at a junction and a group of young girls, spotting Diego, started making remarks and frowning as they tried to work out who he was with. Maxie couldn’t blame them for dismissing her. In his blue jeans, dark jacket and crisp white shirt, Diego looked like a film star—while if she was really lucky she might get a job sweeping the set. It was a relief when they drove off again.
‘Tell me how I can help you while you’re here?’ Diego suggested, seemingly oblivious to all the attention.
Maxie thought for a moment before speaking. ‘I’d like you to give me a taste of Buenos Aires.’
‘I’ll try to give you more than you expect.’
That was what she was afraid of. ‘Like what?’ she asked.
‘I think you should wait and see. We’ll drop our things off at the apartment and then I’ll take you into town and you can pick up something special to wear tonight.’
‘For what occasion?’
‘Business, of course!’ Diego laughed: a flash of white teeth against his tan.
This sounded like business of a type she was unfamiliar with, Maxie concluded.
Diego’s apartment in the best part of town was off-the-scale fabulous. His penthouse occupied the entire top floor of an elegant historic building. When they’d reached it, in a private elevator with an ornate wrought-iron door, they stepped out into an airy lobby with a domed ceiling that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Vatican. Grand double doors at one end of this spacious hallway had just been swung wide by a smiling middle-aged woman.
‘My housekeeper, Adriana,’ Diego explained.
Adriana ushered Maxie
into a light-filled world, packed with sleek modern furniture and the latest high-tech gizmos. Very Diego, Maxie thought as she took in the striking décor of stark white walls punctuated by vivid flourishes of modern art. Floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room took in both the new and the venerably old buildings that comprised the exciting cityscape of Buenos Aires.
‘This is stunning,’ Maxie exclaimed, looking around.
‘I call it home.’
‘Lucky you.’ Diego was so confident and overwhelming, while she was … overwhelmed. She took in the pale leather sofas, smoky glass tables, and the stainless steel conversation pieces at a glance. There was everything here a wealthy man might need. She was relieved to hear that Adriana lived on site, as she had no intention of becoming another of the home comforts Diego so obviously took for granted.
‘Adriana will show you to your room,’ Diego explained. ‘Please make yourself at home, Maxie.’
It might take more than a single visit to feel at home in a place like this, Maxie concluded as the smiling housekeeper led her down a stylish corridor lined with discreetly framed pen and ink drawings of polo ponies.
The suite of rooms would easily have gobbled up Maxie’s small house in London with room to spare. There was a large bedroom with a walk-in wardrobe, as well as a sitting room and a fantastic cream marble bathroom. She’d take a quick shower and then go shopping, Maxie decided. She had to make a start on filling those wardrobes—not to mention the shoe rack. Well, if she tried really hard she might actually manage to fill one small corner …
‘Do you have everything you need?’ She whirled around to find Diego at the door. ‘Are you kidding?’
‘Good. I’ll leave you to settle in and then I’ll take you into town. See you in the hall in half an hour?’
‘Thank you.’
She couldn’t pretend the thought of going out with Diego didn’t make her pulse race. She took a long, hot shower and then changed into casual clothes.
When Diego turned the corner into the hall and walked towards her she had to accept that seeing him never got any easier. Diego had also taken a shower, and his thick black hair was still damp and curled attractively around his face and neck.
