Fierce Love (Bullfighter's Daughter 1) - Page 91

Maggie laughed in spite of herself. “We’ll have to check and make certain it hasn’t already been used.”

Fox stood. “You want some ice cream?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” she answered.

“I’m fine too,” Rafael added. As soon as the door shut behind Fox, he leaned close to her. “I did let you go, but I think your father’s death has hit you much harder than you realize, and you ought to make an appointment with Dr. Moreno.”

Miguel’s death had affected her, but not for the reason he assumed. He had just given her an excellent excuse to speak with the physician, but she couldn’t appear grateful and feigned reluctance. “I don’t know; maybe I do have some sort of post-traumatic stress, but he’d probably just prescribe tranquilizers.”

“Maybe that’s what you need. As for us, I can’t stop you from worrying about me, but I wish you had more faith in me. If I thought I’d be killed on Sunday, I’d retire today.”

“If anyone could terrify a bull, it’s you,” she assured him. “But I doubt any matador expects to die in the ring.”

He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s think about dancing. You can’t go home until we’ve had a chance to dance again. We should go back to Bailaora now that you have your dress and shoes.”

They were both good at pursuing distractions, but the elephant still remained in the room, or on the porch. “Yes, let’s go tomorrow night. Would it be easier if I moved into Santos’s condo?”

He answered her question with a narrowed look, one of his most fearsome expressions, but he’d shown himself to be protective, not violent, and he didn’t frighten her. Her chest still felt tight, but that he thought her suffering from stress rather than being just plain crazy was an enormous plus.

The next morning, Rafael wandered around Zaragoza while Maggie and Santos met with Mr. Calderon. He found a bench with a good view of Augustín’s memorial. He seldom turned his back on a bull in Augustín’s pose, and with good reason. José Cubero, called Yiyo, had died at twenty-one when he’d turned his back on the bull he thought he’d slain. Even with the sword plunged deep, the bull had made a final lunge and sent a horn through Cubero’s heart.

He couldn’t argue with Magdalena. Sometimes the bull did win, and a matador was killed. But she cared for him rather than his growing fame. Perhaps her father’s death was too vivid in her mind to dream of love, but he couldn’t send her home to grieve with the scant hope she’d return to him. He looked at his watch and stood to go back to meet her. For the first time in his life, he’d met a woman he could love, but he wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

Sergio Calderon closed his leather folder and clasped his hands on top. “I think we’ve covered enough for today. While I didn’t want to speak in front of the others, your father was always generous when anyone in his family had an emergency and needed funds. A gambling debt isn’t an emergency, of course.”

Santos laughed. “Other than gambling with my life in a bullring, I don’t bet on anything else.”

The attorney glanced at Maggie, and she shook her head. “I work too hard to earn money to risk it for a thrill. What about Enrique? He doesn’t seem to have much in the way of ambition.”

“Your father was concerned about him and blamed himself for not spending more time with him. I think we should be firm with him and insist he continue his education if he wants the Aragon fund’s support.”

“That’s fine with me,” Santos agreed.

Maggie nodded. “With two of you here in Spain, you can make whatever decisions need to be made between my visits.”

“I’ll keep you informed,” Calderon promised. He handed her his card. “Please call me should you have any questions. If you need money for an advanced degree, the fund is available to you too. Miguel frequently told me the year he spent at the University of Arizona was one of the happiest of his life. He was very pleased you chose it.”

“Really? We talked about other things.” She rose with the men, and while she still didn’t believe she knew enough about the investments that fed the family trust, she was confident the attorney and Santos could handle it without her.

Santos had left his crutches in the car, and he walked from the attorney’s office building with an obvious limp. “What do you want to do on Sunday?” he asked Maggie. “If you won’t go to the arena, you ought to come to my place so you won’t be alone and worry yourself into an emergency room visit. Maybe I’ll rent a boat and take you and Fox sailing.”

She’d thought she’d be gone by Sunday, but it was already Friday, and she hadn’t even looked up flights yet, alone made a reservation. “Sailing would be fun, and you’re right, I’d rather not be alone.”

Rafael had been lea

ning against the entrance to the building and overheard Santos’s question. He approached them, barely able to hide his disappointment. “You may go wherever you please. Sailing, to the movies, or the zoo. The Parc Zoologic has moats to separate the animals, not cages, so it’s a beautiful place to visit.”

“Thank you. I haven’t been to a zoo in ages.” She took his hand as they walked to Santos’s SUV. If she spent every Sunday he had a fight at the zoo, she might be considered for volunteer of the year. It was a silly thought she kept to herself, but it was better than swimming in anguish all alone.

When they returned to Barcelona that afternoon, there was a limousine parked in front of Rafael’s apartment building. He pulled his Mercedes up behind it and asked Maggie to stay put. “It could be Santos’s agent, but whoever it is, you don’t need to see them.”

She caught his arm. “Be careful.”

He covered her hand with his. “It has to be someone wanting to make money off me, so I’m in no danger.”

When he left the car, a sharply uniformed chauffeur circled the limo to open the rear passenger door. Rafael kept his hand on the door and leaned in, but the conversation was over in seconds, and he backed away.

An attractive women dressed in bright red took the chauffeur’s hand to exit the limo and followed Rafael with tiny steps on stiletto heels. Her henna-tinted hair caught the sun’s glow, and she reached out to catch his arm with beautifully manicured nails. Maggie recognized her without hearing her name and left the car to meet her.

Tags: Phoebe Conn Bullfighter's Daughter Erotic
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