Santos disagreed. “Does she look like a clown to you, Manuel?”
“Don’t put him on the spot,” Libby cried.
“You are lovely,” Miguel stressed.
Libby muttered under her breath. “At least no one knows me here.”
“They will soon,” Santos promised.
The restaurant’s open patio was crowded, but Santos asked for the darkest booth inside. “I’d rather have lunch outside,” he murmured, “but people will bother us so often we wouldn’t be able to eat.”
“Hiding inside is fine, and I’m grateful not to be embarrassed any further,” Libby replied.
“Did the morning embarrass you?”
He appeared surprised, but she couldn’t fault him. “You’re used to being photographed. I’m not, and especially not when I’m made-up like this.”
He surveyed the darkened interior of the restaurant. There were other couples dining closer to the bar, but they were involved in their own hushed conversations. He leaned close. “I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable. No one is looking at you, except me. Let’s take our time eating, and when we get home, you may stand in the shower as long as you wish to become your own beautiful, natural self.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d hate to run up your water bill.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you for doing the ads, I didn’t realize it was such an ordeal for you. I’ll send you two crates of cologne.”
The waiter approached before Libby thought of a clever reply, and Santos ordered his favorites for them. She asked for iced tea rather than wine, but gradually relaxed enough to forget she must look like a woman from a low-scale escort service. Ana projected an air of elegant nonchalance, but after further study, Arma
nd would probably decide she resembled a deer in headlights and reshoot with Santos and another model. No matter where she started, her mind churned right back to Ana, easily one of the most perfect women on the planet.
“You’re being awfully quiet. Don’t you like the paella?”
Libby had to finish a bite of the seafood-laced saffron rice dish and swallow before she answered. “This is delicious, but…”
“Go on, even on crutches I can take it.”
She wasn’t certain where to begin. He might accuse her of simply being jealous, and she couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t want to land in the middle of their tumultuous affair. “All right. I’m here only for the summer, so I should probably stay out of it, but when Ana provokes such a heated response from you, it’s difficult to believe it’s over between you.”
“Don’t worry. An enraged bull provokes a heated response from me too, but I don’t want to cuddle with him.”
A slow smile slid across his very handsome mouth, so clearly he wasn’t taking her complaint seriously. “I hate fights, and I’m not trying to start one. It’s just that indifference is the opposite of love, not hatred.”
His tone dropped to an unmistakably serious low. “I never loved Ana, and I don’t hate her now. I just don’t trust her when she’s sold what little privacy I have to the tabloids, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Had I known Armand had hired her for today, I wouldn’t have gone to the studio. I’m sorry if the way I spoke to her upset you.”
“You didn’t yell, and in fact, you spoke to Armand, not her. The whole situation was bizarre. No one would ever ask me to take Ann’s place if there were any other alternative.”
“Armand could have called another model, but he didn’t need to. I’m sorry you don’t realize how lovely you are. I’ll tell you more often. How would you describe yourself?”
The question gave her pause. “Nordic, tall, slim, athletic.”
Santos waited for her to add more. “That’s it?” He touched a hairspray stiffened curl and dropped it. “You have an angelic beauty combined with a flippant toughness that’s, frankly, intoxicating.”
Astonished, Libby bit her lip. “My coloring is the only angelic thing about me, and I’m proud to be tough. Sports are a great excuse to kick people out of my way, and I’m good at it.”
“It would be very unfair to kick a man on crutches.”
He had such a wicked smile and seated so close, she felt the heat of his sleek body as well as the warmth of his affection. He might not stay with a woman for long, but when he was with her, he was truly there and not lost in his own scattered thoughts. Maybe that had been Miguel’s secret too. She stopped analyzing the life out of it and took another bite of paella.
“This is so good, but I can’t eat it all. Could we take what’s left home, or would that insult Tomas?”
“Let’s take it and eat it at midnight, or later,” he suggested with a sly wink. “Tomas works for me remember, and if I want to snack on tree bark, it doesn’t concern him.”