Fierce Pride (14 page)

She stepped into his bedroom but left the door open behind her. “There, I’m in.” All day long, he’d occupied her thoughts. She liked him so much it frightened her, but she didn’t want to miss out on what could very well be one of the best experiences of her life. She double-dog dared herself to grab it.

He played it again for her. “That’s the chorus. I’ll write a verse when I get this part right. It has to sound dark and moody, but not pitiful. It’s a challenge.”

“I’d no idea you wrote music.” Clearly the man had no end of talents.

“I hadn’t before today.” He set the guitar aside. “I didn’t understand what you meant this morning. Was it yes or no?”

His relaxed posture and easy smile made him appear G-rated. She knew better. He posed a risk in every possible way, but she’d count on her Viking blood to keep her safe. She perched on the foot of his bed. After a day sightseeing, she could feel her cheeks were flushed. Self-consciously she twisted her long braid but didn’t undo it to catch the stray strands. “I hadn’t made up my mind. Barcelona is a fascinating city, and I’d love to stay longer. But someone tried to kill you last Sunday. I don’t want you to believe I’d stay simply for a chance to play detective.”

“I don’t care why you stay as long as you do. I was joking about your being my bodyguard.”

“I know, but the fact is, you need one.”

Patricia called to her mother out in the hall, and he waited until they heard doors close to reply. “Maybe. I’ll consider hiring one after the wedding.”

“Are you ever serious about anything?”

“I’m dead serious in a bullring, but with three bulls out to kill me every Sunday, another threat to my life isn’t anything new. It is for you.”

He was wearing white socks, and she reached for his left foot and pressed her thumbs into the ball and rubbed. “True. I’m not used to evading death every week. You’ve definitely got the makings of a blues song right there.”

She was paying such tender attention to his foot, he found it difficult to do anything but watch. She had beautiful hands with long slender fingers he’d rather see wrapped around his cock. “I hope so.”

“Let’s say I stay as your personal trainer. Would you object if I asked my dad to write up a contract so we’ll be clear on the terms?”

She’d switched to his right foot, and he was lost in her touch. “No, a contract is fine. Have you used them with other clients?”

“No, but I was home where I knew everyone well, and they knew me. I should have had contracts, though, and I’ll have a standard one drawn up when I get home and use it with new clients from now on.”

“Would it embarrass you if I came to visit?”

She concentrated on his foot. “Would you be wearing one of your fancy suits?”

“No, they’re too uncomfortable for travel.” He rested his head against the headboard and sighed contentedly. “Patricia said you gave great massages, and you do. Please don’t stop there.”

Startled by her sister’s name, she dropped his foot and stood. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It felt good. Don’t apologize. Let’s talk to your dad tonight, and you can change your airline reservation tomorrow. I promise you’ll not be bored here.”

With him, that was a complete impossibility. She paused at the door. “I’m never bored. Are you coming downstairs for dinner?”

“If you’ll help me dress.”

The man never quit, and she wouldn’t encourage him. “You’re on your own. I won’t be your valet, and I’ll put it in the contract.” She closed the door quietly on her way out.

Santos raked his hand through his hair. He was at a disadvantage with a brace on his knee, but at least he’d talked Libby into staying for the summer. Now all he had to do was convince her father it would be strictly for business. He’d planned to draw Peter aside after dinner, but Libby brought it up during the meal.

“Santos asked me to stay a few more weeks as his personal trainer. Could you draw up a simple contract for us, Dad?”

Peter glanced toward Santos, who smiled in an attempt to appear earnest and respectable. “Whose idea was it?”

“Mine,” Santos assured him. “Libby had mentioned working as a personal trainer, and I need one. I’ll give her free room and board, double whatever she usually charges, and she’ll have plenty of time off to see the city. She’d be good company for Maggie too.”

“Are you in on this, Maggie?” Peter asked.

She paused mid-bite. “No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“How old are you, Santos?” Linda asked.

He saw a flash of fear cross Libby’s glance, but wouldn’t lie. “I’m twenty-seven. I was born while my father was married to you. It’s a tragic story I’d rather not repeat, but I’m old enough to hire Libby. Let’s talk about a contract later. Please excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite.”

He left with as much dignity as he could display on crutches. Libby started to rise, but Rafael stopped her. “Let him go,” he directed softly.

“Couldn’t someone have warned me?” Linda asked. “What else shouldn’t I ask?”

Maggie drew in a deep breath. “Santos lost his mother at a very early age, and she and Miguel were never married. Santos has carried more responsibility for the family than anyone else, and I trust him.”

Linda pushed her plate away. “I’ve lost my appetite too. What’s the real story, that Miguel left a pregnant girl here when he came to Arizona?”

“No,” Maggie insisted. “He didn’t know, and his mother didn’t tell him when she found out. I don’t know words vile enough to accurately describe Carmen and her twisted motives. You were lucky not to have known her.”

Patricia was hanging on every word, but Linda had offered both daughters the same advice. “Let’s tell the truth. If you want to stay with Santos because you’re attracted to him, Libby, please say so. You don’t need to make up a story about working for him.”

Rafael tried to hide his smile, and Maggie reached under the table to grip his hand and rein in his obvious amusement. “We’ll see Libby’s happy,” she offered. “If she isn’t, we’ll drive her to the airport. Besides, she’s twenty-one and doesn’t need your permission to stay.”

“You needn’t have reminded us,” Peter scolded.

“I do like Santos,” Libby said, “but that’s not all there is to it. That’s why I asked you to draw up a contract. We’ll set the terms, and if Santos doesn’t meet them, I’ll go home.”

“He’ll follow them,” Rafael added. “I’ll see to it.”

Peter shook his head. “We’ve a wedding on Saturday. Couldn’t we concentrate on it tonight?”

Libby got up to circle the table and hugged her father. “Yes, we’ll have a wonderful celebration. I’m so glad you and Mother are here.”

Peter nodded grudgingly, but his wife barely managed a smile. “Are there any more confessions I should hear?” she asked.

Maggie was quick to assure her. “No, nothing important, nothing at all.”

Libby sat back down and scooped up a bite of saffron-flavored rice. “I’m going to need a trainer myself if I keep eating Tomas’s meals.”

“Maybe you’ll finally grow some boobs,” Patricia suggested.

“Patricia!” Peter began to laugh.

Libby made too many jokes about her lack of figure herself to be offended and remained at the table until everyone finished dessert. Then she went looking for Santos, which she had to do too often. He needed a microchip so she could track him like a missing pet. She’d insist upon a daily schedule so she wouldn’t have to chase him down next week.

Santos was in the den, watching a video of his father in a bullring. “Come on in. I watch this at least once a week. My father’s advice was always good, but watching him teaches me more.”

Libby joined him on the sofa. He had the sound turned down low, so there was only a faint murmur from the crowd shouting, “Ole!” She knew Miguel hadn’t died in the ring, but watching him work so close to the bull was still unnerving. “It’s all in the rhythm, isn’t it?”

“Exactly. His every move is smooth. If I’m out of the ring for several weeks, I’m going to lose whatever finesse I had.”

“Do you have videos of your own fights?”

“Yes, but I don’t watch those. All I can see are the mistakes.”

“I doubt you make many.”

He looked at her and grinned. “We’ll see.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers in hers. His skin was tan and hers fair, but their hands fit together easily. “Maybe I should take last Sunday more seriously and not ask you to stay. You were right to worry about your family’s safety yesterday. If you’re with me, you’re in danger too. It could be too great a risk.”

“We won’t really know that until I’m shot in the heart.”

“Libby!”

He looked horrified, and she leaned close to kiss him. “I’m sorry. I do care what happens to my family, but they’ll soon be back home. I can’t worry about myself.”

He stared at her, taking in the bright sparkle in her eyes and the warmth of her smile. If anything were to happen to her, he’d never forgive himself. “Let’s decide right now that if whoever had the mirror makes what even hints as being another attempt on my life, you’ll go home.”

She glanced toward the video. The bull Miguel had been fighting now lay dead in the dirt. It was a very bad sign. “Only if you’ll come home with me rather than remain here as a target.”

“What am I going to do in Minnesota?”

“You could pose for some promotion photos for my personal trainer web site.”

“You should have your father take photos of me now so I’ll look even better in the ‘after’ shots.”

She eyed him with a skeptical glance. “I can’t work miracles.”

Too amused to be insulted, he grabbed her in a boisterous hug. He’d never dated a woman who made him laugh as often as she did, and he liked it. He released her slowly. “You must have a guy waiting for you at home. What’s he going to say when you stay?”

She pulled back. “The senior I dated last year graduated in May and moved to New York, so taking your job offer won’t break anyone’s heart.”

Her hair fell softly over her shoulders, and he sifted the ends through his fingers. “He didn’t ask you to go with him?”

“No, I need to finish my last year of school. Staying in Spain for the summer is just a tangent.”

“Am I only a tangent?” That was so absurd he couldn’t believe she’d said it.

“This is why we need a contract, Santos. We can tease each other and have fun, but I’m leaving at the end of August, and you might be really glad to see me go.”

He leaned toward her, but her father heard their low voices and looked in. “Let’s write up the contract and get it over with.”

“Yes, sir, let’s do it,” Santos agreed, but he wouldn’t allow any mention of tangents.

Saturday morning, Santos left early with Manuel to pick up the twins and Fox at the airport. When they came home, Maggie squealed as loudly as her half sisters. “I didn’t know you were coming, and Fox, how wonderful of you to be here too.”

Fox was handsomely dressed in his navy blue school blazer and gray slacks, but his white-blond hair was spiked in his familiar style. He managed a half-smile and shrugged, as noncommittal as always until Patricia came down the stairs. She paused at the bottom step and looked him up and down, slowly.

“You’re awfully cute. I sure hope we aren’t related,” she said.

Fox blushed a deep red. “I’m not related to anyone here. Santos just pretends I am.”

The twins were in black tights and flowing print tops with their hair in ribbon-festooned ponytails. Perry clutched a photo album. “We’re Maggie’s sisters, and we’ll be working with Alber Elbaz at Lanvin.” They turned back to back and linked arms. “He saw a photo of us and instantly planned a whole campaign featuring us. We’re beginning with perfume ads for French
Vogue
.”

Libby came in from her run in time to hear a mention of
Vogue
as the twins showed off their photos. Patricia had entranced a blond kid in a blue blazer. Santos stood back, looking proud. She wondered how much of the family he’d produce for the wedding.

Her mother came up behind her. “Who are they?” she asked.

“More of Miguel’s children, although the boy says he isn’t.”

“Of course, they’d be related to Maggie. How strange this all is, like attending a family reunion and discovering you’re in the wrong hotel. I can’t wait to go home.”

Libby understood exactly how her mother felt. Everything was so comfortable at home, where they weren’t surprised by what lay around every corner. Maggie was laughing with the fair-haired twins. They looked like they were Gundersons too.

At their mother’s urging, Maggie had written a schedule for the day. They planned to do each other’s hair and manicures, silly stuff they’d do together for the last time with their mother before Maggie left them for what could be forever. The twins were jumping up and down, Fox couldn’t take his eyes off Patricia, and Libby met Santos’s gaze. He nodded and remained where he stood. She edged her way around the others to him and pulled him aside.

“Are there more of Miguel’s children coming?”

“No, I invited Enrique and Maria Luisa, but they don’t care much for the rest of us and won’t be here.”