Taken the Spaniard's Virgin

“Wow.”

“Wow?”

“That you would clear your schedule for me.”

“Our time together is limited. I wish to make the most of it.”

Warmth spread through her. “Now is probably a good time to tell you that I canceled a couple of minor shoots so I could extend my stay in Barcelona by a week.”

Pleased satisfaction flared in his gray gaze. “I am very glad.”

“Me, too.” He’d rearranged his schedule for her and that made her feel pretty good about having done the same for him.

The café he chose for their lunch had opted to decorate with the Gothic theme so strong in the architecture ofBarri Gotic . The chairs of intricately carved dark wood with red velvet cushions could have been created in the Middle Ages. Their table had small lions heads carved into the four corners of the heavy mahogany stained top and gargoyles on the legs. But the menu was very modern.

She knew better than to dwell on the delicacies offered, though. She ordered a dry salad with a grilled chicken breast and her favorite mineral fizzy water to drink.

Miguel’s brows rose over her order. “You do not want to try the local food?”

“I can’t afford to.”

“In what way?”

“I have to maintain a strict caloric intake to keep my figure in top condition.”

“Surely you can indulge once in a while.”

“I do, but I choose those indulgences carefully.” She smiled. “I learned a long time ago to enjoy things besides the food itself when eating out. For me, it is fuel for my body, to be measured and taken in at the appropriate time.”

“Whatdo you enjoy?”

“The ambiance of this restaurant. I’m indulging in it, reveling actually. I love the colors and textures. They are a feast for my eyes. My stomach doesn’t need one. The company. I am happy to be here with you. Watching other people is usually a favorite pastime of mine.”

“I’ve known many women who watched their figure, but none who saw food in quite the light you do. They always seem to regret what they think they cannot have.”

She’d noticed that, too, early on in her career and refused to fall into the trap where food or the desire for it became a controlling element in her life. “That would be a waste of time. I’m much better off adjusting to a limited diet and removing the possible damage to my career a fascination with food could do to it.”

He looked at her with something like awe. “You really are stubborn.”

“I told you I was.”

Reaching across the table, he caressed the back of her hand. “You’re also very smart.”

“Thank you.”

There was nothing overtly sensual about the way he was touching her and yet she felt it on a very intimate level. He might as well have been touching her breast for the way her body responded to the small caress.

She had never considered herself a sexual being. In fact, if someone had asked her before meeting Miguel, she would have told them she thought she was probably frigid. She’d never wanted the things she wanted with him, never responded to blatantly sensual touches the way she reacted to the most innocent caress from his hands.

He cupped her hand, playing his middle finger over her palm while his thumb brushed back and forth over the top of her hand. “Your skin is so soft.”

“Is that why you touch me so much?” she asked, trying very hard to control her breathing. This touch didn’t feel nearly so innocent. In fact, she felt the caress against her palm all the way to her feminine core.

“It is part of it.”

“What is the other part?”

“I want you. I will not have you…yet…so I assuage the ache—partially—with touch.”