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She ignored the spectators’ stares and appreciative shouts and lost herself in the music, while Rafael danced so close to her she couldn’t possibly ignore him. He moved with a masculine grace, and she couldn’t help but wonder what sex would be like with him. He’d certainly bring the heat of passion but might be done in a single fiery burst, while she liked men who made love all night long.
Clearly he had the necessary stamina. Maybe all he’d need would be a woman with a fire of her own. When the guitarist strummed the final chord, Rafael drew her into a warm embrace and kissed her as she’d expected him to last night. It was a surprisingly gentle kiss, one merely for show and over before she could respond. The small crowd cheered, and she forced a smile when he let her go.
She handed the castanets to Felipe but didn’t return to her chair. “Could we go now?” she asked Rafael.
“If that’s what you wish.” He offered Felipe the money for their wine, but the man shook him off with a flurry of compliments for their dancing and walked them to the door.
Rafael took her hand as they reached the street. “I’m sorry. I thought you would like it here.”
“I did.”
“But you want to leave so early?”
“I haven’t gotten used to the difference in time yet,” she hedged. She couldn’t say he overwhelmed her and led her thoughts deliciously astray. That was way too much to admit so soon.
“Do you tell no one the truth? No one trusts a Gypsy, but people will expect better from you.”
They’d reached his car, but he hadn’t unlocked her door, and she had to face him. The shadows in the dimly lit street flattered him, and she could so easily imagine women clinging to his knees, begging for his love. She didn’t cling. “There’s a difference between lying and being considerate of another’s feelings.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Then maybe we should only dance.”
He laughed. “No, I want more. Tell me why you wish to protect my feelings. No one ever has.”
Maggie stared down the dark narrow street. She could smell the sea and drew in a deep breath. She could tell one truth at least, if not the more personal one. “At home no one even knows who Miguel Aragon is or cares if I’m his daughter. He’s idolized here, and I’m afraid if I stayed any longer I might do something wrong and…”
Rafael pulled her into a warm hug. “I see. I want everyone to know who I am, and you don’t.”
“Yes, that’s it.” She rested against him and wished he hadn’t worn such a seductive cologne. It was like floating in a sexy cloud. It was no wonder the first dancer had looked so disappointed to see him there with her.
“I want to take you home,” he murmured against her hair.
“Where else would you take me?”
“To my home, not your father’s.” He gave her a quick squeeze before releasing her.
She stepped back so quickly she bumped into his car. It was one thing to let her mind wander in lust-dripping fantasy, and another to live it. “I don’t suppose you mean to show off the architecture.”
“No, I want to show off something else entirely.”
She could easily imagine Craig jumping up and shouting this was most definitely not what he’d meant when he’d urged her to visit Barcelona. She grabbed an excuse. “I’m flattered, but no. I’m leaving soon and…”
“Maybe you’ll stay.”
He wore a sly smile that made his invitation all the more intriguing, but she wouldn’t give in to temptation tonight. “Yesterday was the first time I’d met my father. Barcelona isn’t home to me and never will be.”
“If I listened to every ?
??never’ I heard, I’d be working on the docks.” He unlocked her door, waited for her to get in, and then shut it with a forceful shove.
Maggie hadn’t meant to anger him, but perhaps he was too proud to ever accept a no with a gentleman’s easy shrug. She buckled her seat belt and looked forward to getting home.
He drove slowly. “But if you stay here only a few days, I’ll have a broken heart when you leave.”
His voice held a teasing depth, but Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Maybe for a whole minute.”
“I thought you were worried about my feelings.”
