“You won’t have to for long. There will be a new story to grab the tabloids’ attention tomorrow or the next day.”
“I suppose. Matadors travel. Is there somewhere you’ll have to be this weekend?”
He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a loving squeeze. “No, I’m not returning agent’s calls, and I haven’t signed any new contracts. This is no time to negotiate deals, and I’ve enough money saved to last me awhile.”
“No one will forget you.”
“Let’s hope not, but the more often I fight, the more money I’ll be offered. It’s hundreds of thousands of dollars, Magdalena, not minimum wage.”
She scooted forward and turned to kneel in front of him. “It doesn’t matter how much money it is if you don’t live to enjoy it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me what money’s worth until after you’ve begged on street corners.” He stood, took several steps away and jammed his hands into his hip pockets. “I’m lucky to be alive, so I don’t worry over dying before my time.”
Maggie rose and brushed the leaves off her knees. “I’m sorry. I should keep my mouth shut. You were doing fine before we met, and you’ll do well after I’ve gone home.”
He turned back to face her. “Why do you give up so easily? Why don’t you scream and punch me in the stomach and make me listen to you?”
She laughed and realized too late that he was serious. “I’m sorry, I thought you were joking. You’ve got to remember I’m not a Gypsy girl who’d shriek and beg you to quit something you love. Throwing tantrums won’t solve problems anyway.”
He stared at her a long moment. “I don’t mean enough to you, do I?”
She took a step toward him, and he took a step back. “You mean a great deal to me. That’s why I respect your stance. Can’t you appreciate mine?”
“You care so much about me, you won’t mind if I’m killed?”
“Now I am tempted to punch you in the stomach. We can go around and around with this forever. What’s the point when neither of us will change their mind?”
“You won’t even try to win me to your side?”
“Why, to build your already inflated ego? No, I’m going back to the house.” She started down the trail, but he called after her.
“If you run across a stray bull, mention my name.”
“Hell, I’m a matador’s daughter. I’ll whip off my blouse and fight him myself.”
He laughed and overtook her before she’d taken another step. He picked her up and spun with her in his arms. “The next time I see a woman on the stairs, I’m running the other way!”
She silenced his laughter with a hungry kiss. She wanted him to let her go without a single regret, but please, not yet.
Chapter Nineteen
“My room this time,” Rafael whispered as they climbed the stairs. He kept hold of Maggie’s hand until he’d drawn her through his door and locked it behind them. He opened the balcony doors to air the room and ripped the spread off the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt, but she stared at him rather than begin to undress.
“What?” he asked.
The walk back to the house had left her in a melancholy mood. She’d forced herself not to think during the funeral, but now, in her father’s childhood home, guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “We wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for my father, but he tangled a lot of lives.”
He yanked off his shirt and threw it aside. “We’re not tangled.”
Even with a horrible scar, he had a powerful, masculine body, one she loved to touch. “Aren’t we?”
“Every minute I’ve spent with you has been my choice, and you’re too strong-willed to be with me if you didn’t wish to be.”
Lately, she’d been strong-willed only in fits and spurts, measuring time in days rather than by semesters. “I’m sorry; we left the house to escape suffocating thoughts, and I’ve brought them all back with me.”
He scooped her up, set her on the side of the bed and sat beside her. He laced his fingers in hers. “We’re not going to get over losing Miguel for a long time, but we can’t stop living our lives. I worry about your going home and being alone. I’d come to see you, but the United States doesn’t welcome convicted felons. It will be much easier for you to stay in Spain. It’s a beautiful country. You could be happy here with me.”
She leaned against him and wished she could be. “It’s impossible, Rafael. How would I live through the weekends? With drugs or booze until I was a person neither of us could stand? I don’t want to live that way or have that black dress hanging in my closet like an evil shadow, waiting for the Sunday you…”