“Do you regret last night?” he asked.
Serafia’s gaze lifted to meet his. “No. But I regret not being smarter about it.”
Gabriel nodded and speared a bite of tortilla with his fork. “Good. Then we can do it again.”
* * *
Lord, but Gabriel was hot. He would’ve been much more comfortable in the jeans and T-shirt he’d started the day in, but Serafia had made him change before they left Playa del Onda. Did Serafia give no thought when she selected his wardrobe that he would be touring the countryside of Alma in July? The vineyards were beautiful, and he really was interested in everything Tomás was telling him, but it was hard to focus when he could feel his back sweating under his suit coat.
As they walked through the arbors, he turned to look at Serafia. She had her hair up in a bun off her neck. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a linen shift dress in a light green that looked infinitely cooler than his own suit.
“I’m dying here,” he whispered, leaning into Serafia’s ear. “I’m no good to anyone if I melt into a puddle.”
“We’re going inside in a minute.”
Gabriel sighed. “We better be or I’m going to look terrible if the press take any more photos.” There was a small group invited to the vineyard today. They’d taken some shots as he arrived and as they toured the fields and sampled grapes from the vines, but they had given him some space after that. They were probably hot, too, and waiting for the group to return to the air-conditioned comfort of the building.
“Such a warm day!” Tomás declared. “Let’s head inside. I’ll give you a tour of the wine cave, and then we’ll get to the good part and sample my wares.”
Gabriel’s ears perked up at the mention of a wine cellar. He was happy to go inside, but that didn’t sound like a place he was interested in visiting. “Did he say ‘cave’?” he asked as they trekked back up the hill to the villa.
Serafia frowned at him. “Yes. Why?”
“I don’t like going underground.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. Just relax,” she insisted. “We really need a nice, uneventful visit today.”
Gabriel snorted. She was optimistic to a fault. “Do you actually think that’s ever going to happen with me as the king?”
She tipped her head up to look at him from under the wide brim of her white-and-green hat. Her nose wrinkled delicately as she said, “Probably not, but I’ll keep striving for it. Before long, I’ll be turning you over to your staff and going home. I hope they’re prepared.”
They finally reached the top of the hill and stepped through the large doors of the warehouse. Inside, they were greeted by a servant with a tray of sparkling water and a bowl with cool towels.
“Please, take a minute to cool off,” Tomás said. “Have you enjoyed the tour so far?”
“It’s been lovely, Tomás. There’s no doubt that this is the finest vineyard in Alma,” Serafia said, sipping her water.
She must not have trusted Gabriel to say the right thing. “It’s a beautiful property,” he chimed in. “How many acres do you have here?”
“About two hundred. It’s been in my family for ten generations.”
“You withstood all the political upheaval?”
Gabriel felt Serafia tense beside him. He supposed it was impolite to ask the residents of Alma how they managed to cope with the dictatorship, but he was curious. Some fled, but most made the best of it somehow.
“My great-grandfather refused to abandon his family’s home. It was that simple. To survive, we supplied our finest wines to the Tantaberras and were forced to pay their heavy commercial taxes, but we survived better than others. We had a commodity he wanted.”
Lucky. Gabriel sipped the last of his water and after dabbing his neck and forehead, returned the cloth to the bowl. “And now?”
Tomás smiled brightly. “Much better, Your Grace. Now we are finally able to export our wines to Europe and America. Before, we were restricted by heavy trade embargos that punished us more than the dictatorship. The free trade of the last few months has had a huge impact on our sales and profits. We were able to hire more staff and plant more grapes this year than ever before. We are prospering.”
Gabriel smiled. He had nothing to do with the changes, but he was happy to see them. Serafia had impressed upon him how hard it had been on his people since the Montoros left. He was glad to see the course reverse so quickly with the Tantaberras gone.
“Are we ready to continue?”
Gabriel was not, but he followed behind Tomás, anyway. A few of the journalists joined them as they walked through the warehouse to a heavy oak door. Tomás went down first with a few others, leaving Gabriel standing at the top of the stairs with a sense of dread pooling in his stomach. His hands clutched the railing, but his feet refused to take another step.