Master of El Corazon

‘Perhaps you should ask me if I will give it a try,’ she said.

Romero’s mouth twitched again. ‘What if I suggested we both do so, Miss Miller?’

Arden hesitated. Why not? It would be just as easy to quit tomorrow as to walk off today. After a moment, she held out her hand.

‘That’s acceptable, señor.’

Romero looked at her outstretched hand, then took it into his own. His eyes met hers and he nodded.

‘Done,’ he said brusquely.

After a few weeks, Arden was glad she’d agreed to Romero’s proposal. To her surprise, the job was working out much better than she’d dreamed it could. The old man had a sharp, analytical mind and he enjoyed exercising it; sometimes, Arden thought he deliberately played devil’s advocate just to encourage discussion and philosophical argument. He had an extraordinary orchid collection and when Arden expressed an interest in it he was more than eager to teach her the names and idiosyncrasies of the various flowers.

And, perhaps most importantly, he never treated her like a servant. Her room was not in the servants’ wing but in the main part of the house, and he insisted she take her meals at his table. She knew it was childish that these things should matter to her, but they did.

Still, Felix Romero wasn’t an easy man to like. Despite his keen intellect, there was a coldness to Felix Romero as well as a streak of stubborn pride that kept his attitude as rigid as his spine. And he complained long and often about his stepdaughter and Conor Martinez.

‘The two of them will be here soon, and you will see for yourself what sort they are,’ he said stonily one morning, as he and Arden sat in the library.

‘I’m sure they’re very nice,’ Arden said.

The old man thumped his cane on the floor. ‘Do not patronise me,’ he said sharply. ‘I don’t like it!’

Arden sighed. ‘I’m only suggesting that—’

‘You are wrong, I assure you. Linda cares only for herself. She never spends time here, if she can help it.’

‘Perhaps it’s difficult for a young girl to live in such a remote location.’

‘As for Conor,’ Felix said, ignoring her comment, ‘his sole concern is to usurp as much of my power as he can.’

Arden put down the newspaper she’d been reading to him. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘You will say it, too, Miss Miller, after you have observed how he behaves.’ Felix frowned. ‘Of course, he claims he is merely trying to ease the burden of running this finca from my shoulders.’

‘Isn’t that possible?’

Romero laughed. ‘When you reach my age, you know that anything is possible. But my nephew—’

‘Your nephew?’ Arden frowned. ‘I thought—I assumed he was an older man.’

‘He is old enough to wish to wrest El Corazon from me,’ Felix said brusquely. ‘He is not an altruist, Miss Miller. I assure you, once you’ve met him, you will agree.’

Arden pushed back her chair and got to her feet. ‘Well,’ she said pleasantly, ‘I’m looking forward to meeting both Senor Martinez and Linda:

The old man smiled archly. ‘They won’t like you:

She stared at him in surprise. ‘Why not?’

‘Linda will not care for sharing the house with a woman more attractive than she could ever hope to be. As for Conor—Conor will be distrustful of anyone who might come between him and his goal.’ His brows rose. ‘Conor will surely dismiss you.’

Arden’s spirits sagged. Was she going to lose this job after such a short time?

‘And will you let him?’ she asked quickly.

Felix chuckled. ‘I hired you, Miss Miller. On my finca, my word is absolute.’

‘I hope so, señor. Working here means a great deal to me.’