The Unexpected Honeymoon by Barbara Wallace Page A

agency,” she told him. “Media sales.”
    â€œSounds interesting.”
    â€œYou’re being polite.” Media sales definitely wasn’t interesting, at least not to her. “But it pays the bills a lot better than catering.”
    â€œAh, so you did plan events.”
    â€œWaitress. Before that, a cashier at a florist. NYU didn’t pay for itself. I had to come up with the money somehow.”
    â€œYou’re not from New York originally, are you?”
    He stated rather than asked. How they segued from her attending New York University to her hometown, Larissa wasn’t sure, although she could guess. Eight years of Big Apple living hadn’t completely killed her twang. “I moved there when I was eighteen.”
    â€œBecause you wanted to attend NYU.”
    â€œBecause it wasn’t Texas.” As she expected her answer earned her a look. “In a small town, your reputation is pretty much set at birth,” she told him. “I wanted to go some place where I could stretch my wings.” Not to mention finding a happily ever after was a heck of a lot easier in a city where you weren’t completely surrounded by taller, thinner and blonder. Wasn’t as if her grandmother cared if Larissa left; she was glad to be done with her.
    â€œHow about you?” Tired of talking about herself, she decided to turn the tables. Maybe in his answers, she’d gain insight into what made him so cynical. “What made you go into the hotel industry?”
    â€œBorn into it,” he replied. “The Chavez family has a long tradition in the hospitality industry. In fact, my grandfather built one of the first luxury hotels on the Baja peninsula.”
    â€œWow. I’m impressed. Explains how you and your cousin both got sent here.”
    â€œYou’d be hard-pressed to find a hotel in this country that doesn’t employ a Chavez.”
    â€œSo the name is like Smith.”
    He chuckled, the warm sound slipping under her skin. “In a way. In addition to being large, we’re encouraged to learn the business from the ground up, even if that means working for our competition. My very first job was on the grounds crew for a rival property when I was fourteen years old. You’d be amazed what you can learn about the business weeding gardens. Watch your step.”
    They reached a section where the walkway stepped down. In spite of the area being well lit, Carlos still reached over and took her elbow. Unlike this morning, when she had a bulky terrycloth robe to protect her, this time his hand touched bare skin.
    This was getting ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason for one man to cause this much physical response. Yet here she was, her entire body tingling from the slightest of contact.
    â€œDid your wife work in the hotel business, too?”
    He stiffened at the question.
You can’t stop poking that nerve, can you, Larissa?
Part of her wondered if she broached the topic on purpose, to distract from the awareness stirring in her stomach.
    â€œMirabelle was a fashion model,” he replied. “We met when I was working a property in California.”
    That distracted it, all right. Of course his wife had been a model. A man like Carlos, with his magnetic looks and natural virility, would attract only the best. “She must have been very beautiful.” Tall, long and leggy, no doubt.
    â€œYes, she was.”
    â€œSo you lived in California,” she said, shooing away the jealousy that immediately cropped up.
    â€œFor a while. Mirabelle had...health...issues so we moved back to Mexico City. I thought being close to her family would help her feel better.”
    The stilted, practiced tone of his answer unnerved her. He was holding back. Larissa could sense the “but” hovering in the air, the same way she could feel the torment he fought to keep from his voice. All of a sudden, what had been awareness grew into a desire