Free The Unexpected Honeymoon by Barbara Wallace Page B

he have to lean forward so that the candlelight made his eyes sparkle? “What’s in it for me?” she asked him.
    â€œPardon?”
    If he was going to ask her to use her wedding to inspire someone else’s happiness, she should at least get something out the arrangement. “Seems to me there should be some kind of compensation. Especially since I’m stuck paying for sixty percent of my own failed wedding.” The mention of which should be causing more heartache than it was. She truly didn’t seem to be missing Tom at all. Again, she slammed the worm can.
    Carlos shook his head. “You are asking for me to eat more of the cost.”
    â€œOnly fair, isn’t it?”
    He didn’t answer. Probably because he had no argument. The business world survived on an unwritten
quid pro quo
of favors. Any good business man would realize that fact. Larissa sipped her sparkling water, and waited for his response.
    â€œVery well,” he said, after a moment. “I will erase the wedding charges from your bill.”
    â€œGreat.” Finally, something on this trip was going her way.
    â€œBut,” he said, tilting his glass in her direction a warning if ever Larissa saw one, “any new expenses you wring up are completely non-negotiable.”
    â€œFair enough.” Getting a tan didn’t cost much. What mattered was writing off the past.
    She moved her soup to her left and learned forward. “Now, what do you say, we get to work.”
    * * *
    â€œThen, we wrap up everything that evening by sending them on the moonlight dinner cruise I told them about. What do you think?”
    â€œI will have to check on cruise availability,” Carlos said, “but other than that, I’d say it sounds terrific. You’re a natural at this.”
    The compliment warmed Larissa more than it should. “Making sure I earn my percentage is all.”
    â€œYou have and then some. Are you sure you haven’t planned events before?”
    â€œJust my wedding,” Larissa replied. “Told you, I did a lot of research.” Not to mention that, when you spend most of your life fantasizing about something, planning became second nature.
    During dinner, Carlos had shifted his chair to the side of the table so they could share the paperwork. He’d shed his jacket, as well.
    You’d think the rolled-up sleeves would soften the edge she found so attractive earlier, but a relaxed Carlos was even more alluring. She couldn’t blame alcohol or sleep deprivation this time, either. Beneath the table, his knee rested a hair’s breadth from hers. Every shift of his body sent the seam of his slacks brushing across her skin. Good thing she had a shawl. Clutching it kept her from breakout in goose bumps.
    â€œWell, your research has paid off for me three times this week,” he said, stealing a sip of water. “I don’t suppose you want to stay and replace Maria?”
    â€œWhy not? I’ll chuck my life in New York and move into the Presidential Villa.” Talk about the ultimate running away from your troubles. She smirked, waiting for his comeback to her pretend acceptance. What she got was a return grin that made her stomach somersault.
    A soft cough broke the conversation. Their waiter hovered by Carlos’s elbow, his face a combination of nerves and expectancy. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Señor Chavez, but the rest of the staff wants to know if they could break down the rest of the room.”
    To her surprise, she and Carlos were the only two people left in the restaurant, the other tables long vacant. So engrossed was she in planning the Stevases’ ceremony, she didn’t notice the diners coming and going.
    â€œOf course they can, Miguel,” Carlos replied. “We’ll be out of their way shortly.”
    â€œI didn’t realize we were keeping your staff from doing their jobs,” she said after the server