The audience roared their approval and begged for more, but she shook her head and took Rafael’s arm to return to their table. The owner of the club approached them to ask them to perform again later, but Rafael thanked him for the compliment and refused.
“Whenever you have time in the evening, come dance for us again,” the man begged before walking away.
Magdalena swallowed the last
drop of her wine, and Rafael refilled her stemmed glass. “We’re better each time we dance,” he said. “Now all you need is the dress and the shoes.”
“I have them at home.”
He nodded. “But I won’t be there.”
She’d once been afraid to look into his dark eyes, but now his affectionate glance lured her close. When she couldn’t bar him from her thoughts, it struck her as a grave mistake to waste even a minute of the week they could spend together. Her imagination provided intriguing possibilities, and she felt an incriminating blush fill her cheeks. “Will you invite me to come home with you again?”
He studied her expression a long moment. “I don’t bear humiliation well, so only if you’ll say yes.”
She licked her lips as though unsure of what her answer would be. They danced so well together, the sex would be incredibly good, probably habit forming if she weren’t careful.
She leaned forward to ask, “Do Gypsies use condoms?”
He closed his eyes and moaned. “Always.” He was out of his chair and helped her to her feet so quickly she laughed as they raced for the door.
Chapter Nine
Rafael’s apartment was on the way to Miguel’s house, and he held Maggie’s hand the whole way. “If you’re thinking of just using me and tossing me aside, I’ll forgive you,” he promised.
Charmed by his teasing, she rested her head on his shoulder. “You don’t strike me as a forgiving man.”
“I’m making an exception for you.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Ask me tomorrow.”
Barcelona was another world compared to home, and she refused to think past tonight. While she couldn’t name the precise moment she’d decided to give in to the passion that flowed so easily between them while they danced, she was now sure she’d be a fool not to take advantage of it. In fact, it had become exactly what she wanted to do. Even if they formed a purely physical bond, it would still be glorious. Brief, she knew, but glorious still.
He lived in a charming old building with outside stairs to his second-floor apartment. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it was starkly furnished and spotlessly clean. A black leather sofa divided the open living room from his bedroom in the rear. There was a small galley kitchen on one side and a bathroom on the other.
“Would you like more wine?” he asked.
She shook her head and reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Do you always wear black?”
He caught her hands. “Yes, and before you go any further, I should warn you the man I killed also knew how to handle a knife.”
She took a step back, but she didn’t care if he had scars. “Do you want to turn off the light?” He’d left a single table lamp lit by the sofa and it lent the room a warm glow.
“No, then I wouldn’t be able to see you, but you might not want to look at me.”
She thought it couldn’t be possible until he pulled off his shirt to reveal a long scar that angled across his well-defined abs to his left hip. It must have been an awful wound, but the scar scarcely marred his hard-muscled body. She traced the narrow line with her fingertips, then pressed close to kiss the smooth hollow of his shoulder. It would be a waste of breath to warn him to be more careful in the future, but with that awful scar, he looked as though he was lucky to be alive.
“It doesn’t bother you?” he asked.
“Everything about you bothers me,” she admitted softly. “The way you look, your voice, the cologne you wear, to say nothing of the way you dance. You’d fascinate any woman.”
“I didn’t see a line when we came in.” He wove his fingers in her hair to pull her into a lingering kiss.
“The way you kiss is awfully good too,” she added, without admitting he’d just turned her spine to marshmallow cream. Just touching him warmed her all over, and the heat pooled low in her belly. She’d never liked being confined in another man’s embrace, but she couldn’t get close enough to him. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she were exactly where she truly belonged.
He leaned away to turn on a CD of soft guitar music and brought her into a slow dance. They huddled close, their feet barely moving. He licked her earlobe and muffled her giggles with deep kisses.