Maggie waited until the lights were out and the twins headed toward the stairs to stop them. "Does anyone here make it their business to know what you two and Fox are doing together?"
Perry laughed hard enough to snort and Connie had to hold her sides. "No, it's like a model of the solar system here with all the planets moving in their own orbit," Perry explained. "No one cares what we do as long as we don't bump into Grandmother or Aunt Cirilda. Fox likes being off on his own. He's usually at boarding school in England anyway."
"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?" Maggie asked.
Perry blushed. "Sure, be careful and use condoms, we know that. But who'd want to sleep with Fox?"
"He's cute," Connie said, "but he's our brother even if he won't admit it. Now tell us what happened with Rafael. Don't hold out on us."
"He took me to a place with talented dancers, and then we came home. Unless you love flamenco the way I do, there was no excitement at all."
The twins shook their heads. "There's got to be more."
"That's enough for you. Now hurry on to bed."
They raced up the stairs ahead of her and were already in their room when she reached the landing. She closed her bedroom door and leaned back against it. Her lips still tingled from Rafael's endearing affection. Clearly he hadn't been equally touched because when Santos had interrupted them, he'd quickly reverted to his usual abrasive, cocky self.
She checked the time. It was already late Monday morning in Tucson and she'd missed her chance to call Craig. She was tempted to leave him a voice message. Her father was dying, her relatives could not be easily described, and she'd met a Gypsy matador whose motives were suspect. It wasn't a call worth making when he'd be busy with the last couple of weeks of school, but she wished she'd thought to bring a journal. She'd noticed a desk in the den, and, hoping to find some of her father's stationery, she went back downstairs. She turned on the lamp on the desk and opened the middle drawer.
Cirilda stepped into the room. "Miguel's will is in a safety deposit box at his bank, not here."
Maggie looked up. "I wasn't snooping. I just wanted a few sheets of stationery."
Cirilda turned around and walked out without commenting, and Maggie swore softly. There was no point in trying to befriend her aunt when the woman was mean-spirited to the core, like her mother. Compared to them, Miguel was a veritable prince.
She found the stationery still in its box in a side drawer, took some and turned out the light.
She joined her father for breakfast the next morning. She hadn't slept well but couldn't just lie in bed until noon. There were delicious little muffins and fresh fruit, and she was surprisingly hungry. "Would you tell me something about your father?" she asked. "You mentioned he was a matador, but what sort of man was he?"
"Ah yes, of course, you'd be curious. I'm a pale shadow compared to Augustin. He fought only a few years and retired to our ranch in Zaragoza. He refused interviews but worked on a memoir he never completed. He taught me all he knew of the ring and life and encouraged me to be my own man."
He paused to swallow a drink of freshly squeezed orange juice. "I'm sorry to say he and my mother weren't a good match. I never heard him speak a cross word to her, but there was no love shown between them, no laughter nor joy. She was from a fine family, and they welcomed him, but you've met my mother so perhaps you understand why they weren't a happy couple. A heart attack killed him when he was still in his fifties. Cirilda should show you the family photographs, but most of his things are at the ranch."
"I'll ask to see them." She wanted to discover whatever she could about her father's side of the family. Carmen was such a caustic person, Maggie's sympathies were already with Augustin. If he'd written a memoir, she definitely wanted to read it. She swallowed the last berry on her plate and licked her lips. Perhaps it was the sea air, but everything tasted delicious here.
"What else would you like to know?"
She sat back in her chair and grabbed what might be her only chance to ask about Rafael. She told him they'd danced together. "What