Taken the Spaniard's Virgin

“I will keep that in mind.”

“Do that.”

“Make no mistake, I want you.”

“I know.”

“And you want me.”

“Very much, but I’m not like that.”

“You would have regretted making love. I figured that out.”

“Smart man.”

“When we make love, I will leave you no room for regret.”

She hoped that was true. “So, you are definitely not angry?” she felt the need to confirm.

“No.”

“You’ve been silent. Since I came out of the bedroom, I mean.”

“Control does not always come without a cost.”

“What do you mean?”

“Concentration. It has taken much concerted effort not to attempt to change your mind.”

“I really appreciate the fact that you haven’t.”

“I am glad. It is worth the cost then.”

“I truly think it is,” she hastened to assure him.

He smiled and she felt like she’d landed the cover ofVogue . “You charm me, Amber Taylor.”

“You entrance me, Miguel Menendez.”

“Ah…I like to hear this.”

“I like being able to say it.”

He laughed. “You are very forthright.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. I like it. There are no games between us.”

“I don’t like emotional games.” She’d never played them, but even in business people tried and they annoyed her to no end.

“We have this in common also.”

She grinned and looked out the window, her eyes hungry for a bigger glimpse of Barcelona than she’d had so far. She loved the way the city seemed to be a confusing mixture of Gothic, modern and postmodern architecture. The confusion had a charm all its own and she looked forward to walking the streets to soak it in.

“So, where are we going for dinner?” she asked, hoping it would require a drive across the city so she could see more than she had between her hotel and the modeling shoot site.

“My home.”