Fierce Pride (Bullfighter's Daughter 2) - Page 131

“I hope not. Have you met someone else you care about?”

She wasn’t embarrassed to tell him the truth. “Since leaving you, I’ve simply felt numb and discouraged every man who flirted with me. I wouldn’t use another man to get over you. How could you think I would?”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t.” He reached for her wrist and turned the gold bracelet. His fingers were warm against her skin. “I’m surprised you’re wearing this. I thought you might have thrown it away.”

Not when it was all she had of him. “I’ve never taken it off. Now tell me what’s happened to Victoria.”

He kept hold of her wrist and smoothed his thumb over her palm. “She went straight from jail to a psychiatric hospital. My father treated her badly, and she must have expected worse from me. Rigoberto apparently took up her cause, and when he died, she lost it. I would have sued for custody rather than leave a brother with a woman as badly disturbed as she is, but that possibility hurt her too. Now we’re back where we started. The Aragon men are better at hurting women than loving them. I thought you’d be better off without me, but I’m not better off without you. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish.”

She had

n’t even felt alive without him. Even now, with him sitting so close, her pulse was barely beating. “So you’re asking for another chance?”

“At loving you, yes. I won’t hurt you again. Ever.”

“You can’t promise that.” Overwhelmed, she looked down at her old, faded jeans. “I’m not dressed, and…”

He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You always look beautiful, but if you want to change your clothes, go right ahead.”

She smoothed her sweatshirt. “I do want to change, but I need time to think. I didn’t expect to ever see you again. Give me a minute.”

He brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait.”

The touch of his lips sent shivers up her spine. She longed to stay and get away all at the same time. The last impulse won, and she ran up to her room. She stared at herself in her bathroom mirror, mortified by how pathetic she looked, as vulnerable as she felt. It was amazing that after a single glance at her, Santos hadn’t rushed back to the hotel. The situation wasn’t hopeless, however, but she needed to channel her inner Miss Minnesota, and fast.

She showered and blew her hair dry, coiled it loosely atop her head and left teasing tendrils brushing her neck. She had short winter dresses and pulled a red knit from her closet. The long sleeves and high neck made her near-endless legs twice as enticing. Her hand shook as she applied her makeup with extra care, but when she left her bedroom, she looked the best she possibly could on such short notice.

Santos still sat on the stairs, looking as handsome as he did in the Aragon cologne ads. She could hardly believe he was real. He stood and smiled. “You look like Christmas.”

He looked like every holiday combined. “Thank you. I should have asked about your knee.”

“I can run on the beach and made it up these stairs.” He reached for her hand. “Is there someplace we could go to talk, or would you rather stay here?”

“Let’s go in the den.” She led him down the stairs and into the book-lined room where her father often worked late into the night. She closed the door and looped her arms around his neck. “I recall telling you one time that people ought to use more sense when it comes to relationships, but when it comes to you, I can’t cope with logic. Let’s just see if the magic is still there.”

He settled his hands on her waist to draw her against him. “A test? I’ll do my best.”

He began with soft gentle kisses, teasing her, luring her close. He did it so easily, and she responded as she always had and pressed against him. Clinging to him, she let him pull her past all hope of reason or restraint and didn’t draw away until a lack of oxygen made her dizzy. She sifted his hair through her fingers. “You still feel magical to me, and I’d recognize your cologne in a crowd.”

“You’d said you wanted some.”

“I didn’t open the box, and your posters are still in the mailing tube.”

“Then you didn’t see how I signed them?”

“Was it something special?”

He rested his hands on her hips. “I thought you might not translate them, but I said, to my heart, my soul, my love, always. Even if I hadn’t been able to say it to you, I wrote it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Would you have come here in September if I’d understood and called you?”

He kissed her cheek and the tender spot behind her ear. “I wanted you to finish school, so probably not. Maybe I wasn’t ready. I’ve never thought of myself as slow, but I’ve never loved anyone but you.”

She loved standing in his arms. He felt warm and as solid as forever. “So you sent me away.”

“Seems really stupid now, doesn’t it?”

“It would have been stupid if you hadn’t come to your senses. Now what are we going to do about the fact I want a family and you’re overburdened with the one you have?”

Tags: Phoebe Conn Bullfighter's Daughter Erotic
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