“She’d be better off alone than with you,” Santos shot right back at him.
She looked over her shoulder at Rafael. “I enjoyed seeing the dancers. Thank you for taking me.”
He nodded. “It was my pleasure. Good night.” He gave Santos a wide berth as he circled the house to return to his car.
Maggie was relieved her brother had let him go without further insults. “Thank you for your concern, Santos, but you needn’t worry about me. I won’t be here long enough to advance Rafael’s career or embarrass you again.” She brushed the sand off her feet and slipped on her shoes. “Oh, by the way, I met Ana Santillan this morning.”
Santos closed the distance between them. “She came here?”
“She didn’t tell you? I thought you two were close.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “We are, but it isn’t common knowledge. You mustn’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t if you’ll stop insulting Rafael.”
“Don’t you understand what he’s doing? He wants Father to back him, that’s all. You’re a beautiful woman, but all he sees is the Aragon name. That’s what he needs, not you.”
“Is that all Ana wants with you, a means to remain close to our father?”
The question gave him a moment’s pause. “No. I hope her affection is sincere, but Rafael’s isn’t. Don’t let him use you.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the back door. “You should have rung the bell. The twins are never asleep this early.”
“Really? I was afraid I’d wake our grandmother or Cirilda.”
“I avoid them too. I’ll get you a key tomorrow, but please, if you want male company, my friends would be a far better choice.”
“No, thank you, that’s not why I came to Spain.”
The twins bounded into the kitchen, followed by Fox. Perry came forward to take Maggie’s hand. “You’ve got to see the film we’re watching.”
Fox took a soft drink from the refrigerator and let the girls run ahead without him. Maggie looked back and wondered how often the twins and Fox were left alone. A couple of precocious thirteen-year-olds and a bored sixteen-year-old boy struck her as a disaster waiting to happen.
Perry led her through the dining room and down the central hallway to a den filled with comfortable chairs and sofas and a huge flat-screen TV. Maggie had expected a popular movie, but they’d been watching a documentary on their father’s career. It was the last thing she wanted to see, but as the screen filled with a colorful crowd cheering for Miguel, she couldn’t turn away. He’d been retired more than ten years, and the film showed him in his prime. He controlled the furious black bull with a nonchalant elegance that fascinated her. She closed her eyes when he went in for the kill.
Perry and Connie were cheering along with the crowd, but Maggie felt sick and turned away. She noticed the painting then. Miguel was posed in a bullfighter’s classical stance, his left side to the viewer as the bull thundered past his swinging cape. Looking down, his expression was impossible to read, but it was a strikingly beautiful yet crazily dangerous scene.
The documentary included a brief mention of Miguel’s family and showed him with Vida Ramos. Their two children were riding ponies on their ranch and laughing happily together. Maggie understood the Spanish narration and wondered if Santos was ever included in the family portraits. He wasn’t mentioned, and neither was she. She supposed their existence was an annoying detail that didn’t fit the film’s picture perfect family.
The omission hurt her even now. Santos must have been shoved aside until he was old enough to demand attention on his own. It was no wonder he labeled Rafael as unwanted competition and suspected his motives. What a mess. She’d come in toward the end of the film and was relieved she wouldn’t have to watch more.
“I wish he’d still been fighting when we were old enough to see him,” Connie said. “Films of him just aren’t the same.”
Fox came to the door. “We’re old enough to see Santos.”
“If we’re still here,” Perry replied. “Mother keeps our schedule secret even from us.”
Maggie covered a wide yawn. “It’s awfully late. I’m going up to bed.”
Connie stood and stretched. “I’m coming too. Turn off the lights, Perry.”
“Why don’t you?”
“You’re closer.”
Fox shook his head and walked out. “They never quit. Good night.”
Maggie waited until the lights were out and the twins headed toward the stairs to stop them. “Does anyone here make it their business to know what you two and Fox are doing together?”
Perry laughed hard enough to snort and Connie had to hold her sides. “No, it’s like a model of the solar system here with all the planets moving in their own orbit,” Perry explained. “No one cares what we do as long as we don’t bump into Grandmother or Aunt Cirilda. Fox likes being off on his own. He’s usually at boarding school in England anyway.”