"There are lots of people in the water." She flipped her hair out of her eyes and wrapped herself in the towel.
His frown didn't lift. "True, but they're not looking out for you."
"I'm out now," she exclaimed. "I didn't expect to see you today."
Fox backed away. "I know where this is leading. I'll see you later."
She turned toward the sea, and Rafael moved close and draped his arm around her shoulders. "I want you to come to the corrida."
His closeness felt so good, but his request made her heart fall with a silent splat. If they never had to get out of bed, they'd do fine, but reality yanked the covers right off them. "Young men recognize you here on the beach. There will be plenty of people there to see you."
His voice dropped to a seductive hush. "You're the one I want."
Savoring his words, she leaned against him. He behaved as though desire was all that mattered. She nearly suffocated on desire when he was near, but what he wanted and what she needed were too entirely different things. "It isn't that I don't care, I do. I hope you won't think it's disloyal of me not to go, but please, I couldn't bear to watch. I know you'll dazzle everyone there."
"Thank you, but I still want you to come."
She slid her arm around his waist and unable to describe how frightened she was for him, she couldn't put that level of terror into words. "I won't ask you to stop, so please don't ask me to go."
She held her breath, praying he'd understand, but when he gave her a last hug and walked away, it was clear he didn't. She wanted to call him back, but she couldn't promise the only thing he'd ever asked of her. He wanted to show off for her. She understood his pride, but she couldn't bear to watch him risk his life as afternoon entertainment for a bloodthirsty crowd. Tears rolled down her cheeks. If she lost him that afternoon, she'd never stop crying.
Chapter Fifteen
Carmen met Maggie as she returned to her room. Dressed in a black suit, she wore her usual stern, disapproving frown. "Even if you aren't Catholic, you should come to church with us and pray for Santos."
Her grandmother knew she cared for Rafael, but clearly wouldn't include a Gypsy in her prayers. "Thank you, but I really don't feel up to it, and my prayers will go just as far if spoken here."
"If you know any," her grandmother murmured and marched down the hall toward the stairs.
Maggie closed her door and leaned back against it. She only had today to survive, and tomorrow she'd make a reservation for the first flight out of Barcelona to the States. Maybe it was better this way. If Rafael wasn't speaking to her, she didn't have to worry about how she'd tell him good-bye without crying so hard she'd make a fool of herself. She'd just disappear from his life before he'd begun to miss her.
She topped her bikini with cropped jeans and her lavender shirt and took a fresh towel down to the beach. She carried the last of the books she'd brought along to read and intended to stay on the beach until late afternoon. There were shady places to sit so she wouldn't be burned to a crisp, but what she really intended was to hide until a few minutes before five o'clock when the bullfights would begin. She wanted to see Rafael walk into the Pla?a de Toros with the others and pretend he was waving to her. Spanish men were a handsome lot, but he would surely be the best looking, with Santos a close second. Her stomach was already clenched in a tight fist, and she still had hours to go.
She showered and changed into her colorful skirt with a low-necked black top and went to her father's room at a quarter to five. He was awake, stretched out on his bed, leaning against a mountain of pillows and eager for the corrida to begin. He welcomed her with a wide smile.
"I thought you might have changed your mind and gone with my mother, Cirilda and Fox."
"I'd rather watch as much as I can from here. You appear to be feeling well."
"Yes, I am, but Antonio insisted upon having a private ambulance here. He's afraid should Santos be hurt, I might risk driving myself to the hospital."