which was probably a mistake."
Maggie doubted it. "I just wanted you to know I'm thinking of you."
"When are you coming home?"
"Sunday, unless I run off with a handsome matador."
"What?"
"Good-bye." He'd think she was kidding, but even in that brief exchange, she knew all she'd ever want from him was the friendship they'd already shared. Rafael, however, sparked far more than friendly interest. She wasn't the type to fall prey to her own emotions, and it wasn't that she couldn't tell him no. She just might not want to. That was what frightened her.
She found a note from the twins on her bed. They'd left their home address and cell phone numbers so she could call them. They promised to practice their dancing and hoped she'd look for them in all the fashion magazines. She put the note in the leather-bound journal she'd bought, but now that she had it in her hand, she couldn't decide how to record her trip. She didn't want a dry list of places she'd visited, but while the twins were easy to describe, her comments on her grandmother and aunt wouldn't be complimentary. Her father deserved thoughtful entries, and Santos, whom she liked better each day, did too.
She took a pen and walked down the beach to find a place to sit and make notes only she would read, but her thoughts turned quickly to Rafael. Even if he weren't a full matador de toros, she wondered if there had been posters for his fights in Mexico. If strangers recognized him on the beach, there probably had been.
"Why can't I forget the man?" she moaned. Craig had been wrong, and she wasn't missing any important parts of herself. She simply hadn't been the right woman for him. She made a few notes of her initial impressions of her newfound family and wrote Rafael's name in the back of her journal to make him a separate subject in himself. She let the breeze whip her hair and wished she had something pretty to wear that night. The muted tones she wore for school just wouldn't do here.
Rafael brought her a small present tied with a big bow. "You don't have to buy me gifts," she exclaimed.
"I'm a Gypsy; maybe I stole it."
"That's not funny." She got into his car and held the brightly wrapped present in her lap.
"I'm sorry if my jokes don't amuse you, but I'm not poor. I can afford to buy women presents. Now open yours and thank me."
She had a good idea how he'd like to be thanked. She pulled off the bow and wrapping paper and found a pair of castanets. "Thank you!" She slipped the cord on one over her right thumb and tapped a quick rhythm. "I'll be a much better dancer with my own castanets. Now I'll have to give you something."
He smiled. "I'd not refuse a gift, but there's no hurry. The place we're going tonight is larger than Bailaora, but unfortunately the dancers aren't nearly as good. I promise not to mention your father's name and maybe you'll want to stay longer."
Just seeing him again coiled a delicious excitement around her heart. Embarrassed to have developed such a weakness for him, she dismissed it as a silly infatuation. That was convenient, if not truthful. "Will you dance with me again?"
"Of course. You'll need to try out the new castanets."
"No, I just want to dance with you." He leaned close to kiss her, and she raised her hand to his cheek to prolong it. He was always clean-shaven, as though he carried an electric razor in his car to look good regardless of the time of day. His lips were soft. He tasted so good and smelled like a god. Now that she knew his scent, it wasn't overwhelming at all, merely enticing, like everything else about him.
"We should probably go," she whispered.
"Hmm." He started his Mercedes, turned on the radio and kept it low. "I've heard American women never tell what happens on their vacations."
"I'm not on a vacation, but what secrets would I keep?"
"That Spanish men are handsome but only good enough for a week."
She appreciated his sense of humor but shook her head. "Please. Let's worry about getting through tonight, Rafael."
"So I'm not worth a week?"
She clicked her castanets rather than reply.
When they reached the club, Rafael kept his word and introduced her only as Magdalena. The crowd was a loud mix of tourists and Spaniards, and she was grateful he asked to be