Excerpt of A Spanish Engagement by Kathryn Ross

IT WAS strange how life could change in an instant, Carrie thought as she took her place in the business-class section of the plane. At one time when she was on a business trip to the Paris office she would have lingered after the meetings to enjoy a spot of shopping on the Champs-Elysées. Or she would have met up with colleagues for a drink. These days she couldn't really care less about all that — all she could think about was getting home on time to be with her niece.

Carrie checked her wrist-watch as the pilot apologised for their delayed departure and said that their estimated time of arrival in Barcelona was four-thirty.

It was touch and go now whether she would be home in time to pick Molly up from school herself. Usually it wouldn't have mattered because she employed a nanny as backup. But Silvia had asked for time off this week due to personal problems, and the girl had looked so pale and miserable that Carrie had felt obliged to agree. Somehow she had managed to juggle appointments around and had been able to pick Molly up herself all week. It had been hard work, but despite this she had really enjoyed it. In fact, the highlight of her day was when her niece came running out of class, her dark curls bouncing, and a big smile on her face. The warmth of her welcome and the way she flung herself into Carrie's arms for a hug never failed to move her.

Carrie was a successful advertising executive and she was used to life in the fast lane, but she had to admit that in the last few months since Molly had come to live with her her priorities had undergone a serious overhaul. Suddenly her career was no longer the most important thing in her life. And for Carrie that was a massive change. She had always been career-driven, the first to arrive in the office in the morning and last to leave at night. It was that total dedication that had earned her a top job in the agency's office in Barcelona. But these days she couldn't wait to get home, and she found instead of wanting to read business reports in the evening she was more likely to be found reading bedtime stories to Molly.

Colleagues in the office were starting to notice the change...and she knew it wasn't going down too well with her immediate superior either. Her job was high-pressured, but also highly prized, and there were a lot of people who were just waiting for her to trip up.

But Carrie didn't intend to make any errors. Even though she had been pushed to the limits timewise this week, she had won a lot of new contracts, proving she was still on top of her job. So she didn't care much what anyone thought. Molly needed her and that was all that mattered.

It was three months now since the tragic accident that had robbed the little girl of her father and Carrie hadn't hesitated to take her in. What else could she have done? Molly was her half-brother's child and there were no other living relatives except for grandparents who were currently in Australia, and whom Molly hardly knew.

One look at the child sitting in the police station waiting for her, looking bewildered and frightened, and Carrie had rushed to sign the forms that would release her into her care. And even though it had caused all kinds of complications in her life — with work, with her social life, which was now practically non-existent — Carrie didn't regret it; in fact she had made an application to legally adopt the child a few weeks ago. She had thought that it would just be a formality, and that by Christmas Molly would legally be hers. But a few days ago she had received an ominous letter from Molly's grandmother stating she wasn't happy about the idea and wanted to come and see her.

She was due to arrive tomorrow night and Carrie was more than a little anxious about the visit. Trying to put those worries out of her mind, she opened up her briefcase and tried to turn her attention back to work.

Tomorrow was Friday and there was a whole day's work to get through before she had to think about Molly's grandmother. It was an important day as well, because she wanted to win the contract for advertising Santos Wines. She had come up with some good ideas at the office meeting last week, and her boss José had told her to go ahead and develop them but she knew he was starting to watch her performance with critical eyes. The real test would be if she could sell her ideas to the managers of the Santos estate at their meeting tomorrow.

Carrie's mind was filled with facts and figures when a man took his seat beside her. She looked up, prepared to smile politely before going back to the papers in front of her. But something happened when she looked into his dark eyes...suddenly her very businesslike frame of mind was severely shaken. The man was absolutely gorgeous.

She tried to focus back on her work but she found herself distracted by his presence. She was aware of the long, lean, powerful body just centimetres away from hers in a way that she had never experienced before. Never in her whole life had she felt such an overwhelming attraction to a man. Even the subtle tang of his aftershave sent her senses reeling.

Every now and then she darted surreptitious glances towards him, taking in everything about him: the ruggedly handsome profile, the thick darkness of his hair, the cut of his expensive suit, even his hands that were large and capable-looking. She noticed as well the way the air stewardesses smiled at him as they passed. This was a man who was used to being noticed by women, she decided; so in response she tried very hard to ignore him.

For take-off she had to put her papers away and tuck her briefcase beneath the seat in front. As the plane roared down the runway she put her hand on the armrest of her seat and accidentally brushed against his hand.

"Sorry." She looked over at him and he smiled at her. It had the weirdest effect on her body, as if her heart had dipped in some weightless way down into her stomach and back again. She gave a polite half-smile and hurriedly looked away again, hating the fluttery sensation he was stirring inside her. Carrie liked to be in control of her senses at all times and this was pure purgatory for her.

Pull yourself together, for heaven's sake, she told herself sharply. You're a twenty-nine-year-old business- woman, not a blushing adolescent.

As the plane levelled out she reached to open her briefcase again and got out her papers. She felt his glance falling on her as she tried to read, and was acutely aware that he seemed to be studying her rather intently. She wished now that she hadn't drawn her long blonde hair back into such a severe style this morning — she could have done with the silky curtain to hide behind.

"Are you going to Barcelona on business?" he asked her suddenly.

"No, I live there. I'm returning from a business trip." She noticed the huskily attractive Spanish accent. That accounted for the blue-black colour of his hair and the penetrating dark eyes, she thought. "What about you?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity. "Do you live in Barcelona or are you on business as well?"

"A little of both." He smiled. Although her curiosity was rife she refrained from asking what he did for a living. It was obvious he was successful at whatever it was; he had an air of authority about him that spoke volumes. Instead she tried to reapply herself to her work, but found that she was reading the same paragraph over and over again. Her mind stubbornly refused to concentrate on what was important; instead it was focusing on him — on his every move, his every word.

She listened as he chatted amiably with one of the hostesses in Spanish. She had thought his English accent was sexy but it was nothing compared to the warm, deep tones of his native tongue. Although Carrie was English by birth she was multi-lingual and spoke Spanish fluently so she had no problem following the conversation. The hostess was flirting outrageously with him, and he didn't seem too averse to the attention. In fact he seemed to be flirting right back. Little wonder, really, Carrie thought; the woman was dark and Spanish and very attractive.

Carrie frowned down at the papers in front of her and told herself to stop listening. She didn't care what he was doing. It was none of her business; all that mattered to her was that she got this contract with Santos Wines tomorrow. And if she did her homework now she would have time to spring-clean her apartment tonight and prepare for meeting Molly's grandmother tomorrow.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked her suddenly, and she looked up to see the air stewardess waiting to take her order.

She was tempted to accept, but smiled and shook her head regretfully. "Thank you, but I can't. I have to concentrate on this work."

"Very sensible." He smiled back.

Hell, but he had a gorgeous smile, Carrie thought hazily.

The plane lurched suddenly and some of her papers slipped sideways off her table, falling onto the floor at his feet. He retrieved them for her immediately.

"Thanks." Her hand touched his accidentally as she took them from him and she felt suddenly breathless. What was wrong with her? she wondered dreamily. She had met lots of good-looking men over the years and not one of them had ever affected her like this.

"Do you work for Santos Wines?" he asked as he glanced down at the logo on one of the papers.

"Not exactly. I work for an advertising agency and I'm hoping to run a series of advertisements on TV for their wines."

"Really? Now, that is interesting. Their wine is excellent."

"Is it?" Carrie grinned suddenly and something made her lower her normal barriers of reserve to confess, "Actually, I've never tried it...although I probably shouldn't admit to that."

"Probably not." He gave her a lopsided, boyishly attractive grin that made her heart skip.

Irritated with herself for responding to him like that, she tried to remain businesslike. "But I'll be able to sell it no matter what it tastes like. I'm pretty good at thinking up new and innovative ideas for any product, good or bad. That's my job."

"But doesn't it help you if you believe in the product?" 'Yes, of course." Carrie nodded hastily. "And I'll be learning all about Santos Wines tomorrow. I'm visiting one of their vineyards and talking with the producers."

His eyes flicked down over her, suddenly taking in everything about her, from the smart way her blonde hair was tied back from her face to the black skirt suit and round-neck white top.

Carrie felt her blood heating up at the way he was looking at her. It was almost as if he were touching her with his eyes.

"Well, anyway, if you'll excuse me..." She wrenched her eyes away from him. "I'd better get back to my work."

"Of course." He nodded politely and she wondered if she had imagined the gleam of sexual interest in his eyes a moment ago.

The air stewardess arrived with his drink and Carrie focused rigidly on her work as some more conversation flowed in Spanish.

A little while later a meal was served and she was forced to put her papers away. It was strange, but she felt totally vulnerable without them in front of her. She couldn't pretend that she wasn't in the slightest bit affected by him, couldn't escape from the disturbing, powerful sensuality of the man.

"So how's the work going?" he asked as she took out her cutlery and studiously pretended to be interested in her food.

"It's going okay, thank you," she said awkwardly. "That's good." The stewardess arrived with a bottle of wine. "Ah, now you can't refuse a glass of this," he said with a smile. And she noticed he had ordered a bottle of Santos white wine. "You can mix business with pleasure now, and do a bit of research."

"That's very kind of you...but..." 'Not really. I have an ulterior motive," he said, cutting across her casually as he poured the wine.

"What kind of motive?" she said, glancing across at him uncertainly.

"Well, I want to know if you actually like the stuff." He grinned at her. "I know you said it wouldn't make any difference to your advertising campaign. But..." he shrugged in a very Hispanic way '...I'm curious to find out the truth."

She carefully avoided touching his hand as she took the glass he offered. He watched as she took a small sip, his eyes moving slowly over her delicate heart-shaped face, noting the high cheekbones, the generous curve of her lips. He noticed that she didn't wear much make-up — not that she needed it particularly. Her skin was exquisite and her large baby-blue eyes needed no enhancement at all.

"Well?"

Carrie waited a moment for the flavour to develop in her mouth. "It's very refreshing...slightly fruity, not too dry..." She took another sip. "Yes, it's very good," she admitted. "Not that I'm a connoisseur or anything, but I would recommend it to a friend so I guess I'll have no problem with my conscience when I'm selling it...that's if I get the advertising contract." She hastily qualified her words, not wanting to tempt fate. "Nothing is certain yet."

He poured himself a glass and raised it towards hers in a salute. "So tell me a little about your agency. Is it big or small?"