“No, but I’d have blamed myself if you’d been hurt.”
“Santos doesn’t like me,” he countered. “I’m used to it, and he couldn’t hurt me with a half-dozen friends at his side.”
She should have known he had too high an opinion of himself to be worried. “You provoke each other, but enough of Santos. What do you know about my grandfather? Was he as famous a matador as his son?”
“Yes. Augustín Aragon was among the greats. He was reclusive; is that the word? He’d appear for a fight, then return to his ranch and remain there until the next time he entered a bullring. People were curious about him, fascinated. I suppose they still are. I’ve always wanted to see your family’s ranch. Take me with you if your father sends you there.”
His real interest was all too clear, and her heart fell. “That’s unlikely.”
“What, that you’d take me?”
“No, that my father would send me there.” She pulled her hand free and turned to look up at him. “My father likes you, and that ought to be enough. You can’t count on me to do more.”
They’d reached the edge of the shore, and he glanced away. “You’re the one I want.”
His words blew away in the sea breeze, but she’d understood him. When he looked back toward her, she nodded. “Fine, but I’m planning to fly home on Sunday.”
“Then I have nearly a week to convince you to stay.”
His lazy smile made it plain he thought it an easy matter. The man never lacked for confidence. It made him a superb dancer and undoubtedly served him well in the bullring, but she didn’t want to be seen as a challenge to be overcome. She wanted him to be sincere, then again, she wasn’t being all that truthful herself. That was Craig’s complaint, that she hid more than she ever showed. She raised her hand to shade her eyes and searched the beach for the twins. “Do you see the girls?”
“Let’s look for them. Which way do you want to go?”
She chose the way they’d taken yesterday. “I don’t suppose they could have gotten lost.”
“No, they won’t walk that far, but I worry about them.”
“So do I. Independence is a wonderful trait, but someone ought to be setting limits for them.”
“You could if you stayed.”
His knowing smile made her laugh. “They have a mother who ought to be doing so. Have you heard Marina sing?”
“No, I’ve never been to an opera.”
“Neither have I.”
“Never?”
“No, never, so I’ve missed seeing Marina perform.” She didn’t repeat Santos’s description of her talent, or lack thereof. “Is that the twins just ahead?”
“Yes, we found them too soon.”
There were standing with three young men who were clearly too old for them. “I don’t think so.” She hurried Rafael to reach them. “I’ve been looking for you for our dance lessons.”
Perry introduced their companions as Carlos, Juan and Javier. “Carlos wants to take us sailing.”
Carlos was the tallest of the trio, but he still had to look up at Rafael. “You can come along if you like.”
“Thank you, but no,” Rafael responded.
“Definitely no,” Maggie echoed. “Let’s go home.”
“Wait a minute,” Javier asked. “Are you Rafael Mondragon?”
“I am.”
“I heard you set Mexico City on fire. When are you going to fight here in Barcelona?”