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He responded with a wicked grin. “You like dangerous men? As a matador, wouldn’t I be at the top of your list?”
An incriminating blush heated her cheeks. “I don’t keep lists. Do you?”
“You could inspire me to begin.” His appreciative gaze raked her from head to toe. “Ready to go home?”
Santos turned flirting into an art form, and she nodded rather than give him more ammunition to tease her. When they returned to the marina, she removed her lifejacket and handed it to him. “Thank you. I really do love sailing.”
“You’re welcome. It’s a relief to get away and avoid the world for an hour or two.”
He’d turned serious, and it finally struck her he’d recently lost his father, and she’d not offered a single word of sympathy. Embarrassed, she spoke hurriedly, “I should have offered condolences for your loss. I don’t know how I could have forgotten. I’m not usually so thoughtless.”
He frowned slightly. “Thank you, but you needn’t apologize.”
She picked up the canvas bag. “I want to anyway. Don’t invite me again unless you truly want to.” She waited while he saw to the boat and walked up the dock before he responded, but she wasn’t being coy. She felt as though she’d intruded on his space, and she needed her own.
Tomas offered so many choices for breakfast, Libby felt obligated to have something more than fruit. “A mushroom omelet sounds good, thank you.”
“Make one for me too,” Santos said. He joined her at the patio table.
“Tomas runs the kitchen, and Mrs. Lopez runs the house. They seldom speak to each other. My grandmother was always after Tomas about one thing or another. He was devoted to my father, so he didn’t quit, and my father wouldn’t let her fire him. It’s a relief to have the old witch out of the house.”
“Maggie told me what happened. Are you sure she’s not coming back?”
He shook his head. “No. Her doctor had her committed before she could be charged with attempted murder, but if she were ever to leave the hospital, and it’s a plush private one, she’d be arrested for the crime. No one in the family wants that. Everyone is better off as things are.”
Julian brought them juice and quickly set the table. Libby took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice. “This is awfully good. I can’t imagine having a staff to see to my every need.”
“You’d get used to it. My father was a very gracious man, and people loved working for him. Everyone has known me since I was a child, so I don’t command the same respect.”
It was an offhand remark, but he looked away quickly as though he regretted admitting it. “I’m sorry I didn’t meet your father. Maggie never talked about him. My sister, Patricia, and I always wondered why she’d had a different father, but it wasn’t a topic discussed in our home.”
“All families have secrets,” Santos observed. He leaned back as Julian served their omelets garnished with sliced tomatoes.
“Thank you so much,” Libby said. “This looks delicious.”
Julian blushed and backed away before turning to enter the house.
“I’m afraid I embarrassed him.”
“No,” Santos assured her. “He’s delighted to have such a pretty girl to serve.”
“Thank you.” Libby took a bite of omelet and found it even tastier than it looked. Santos was very free with compliments, and she assumed he’d had plenty of practice. Still, it was difficult to remember Maggie’s warnings when he sounded so sincere.
They had just finished eating when Cirilda came out the kitchen door and joined them. She was dressed in a navy top, white slacks and red stilettos. “Are you one of Magdalena’s sisters or this week’s hot chick?”
Santos nearly choked and had to take a drink of juice. “May I present Maggie’s sister, Libby Gunderson. Cirilda is our favorite aunt. I’m surprised to see you up this early. What do you need?”
“Nothing from you. I still have things to move into Alfonso’s home, our home. I’m remarrying my second husband,” she added for Libby’s benefit. “He’s been single since we divorced, and everything is the way I left it.”
“How convenient,” Libby replied. It was difficult not to stare at the woman. Her black hair was cut short like a china doll’s, with straight bangs to frame her dark eyes. She was beautiful, easily recognizable as an Aragon, but unlike Santos’s easy manner, she radiated not a speck of warmth.
Julian brought her a cup of coffee on a silver tray complete with a silver creamer and a bowl of sugar. “Would you care for anything more, Miss Aragon?”
“A few strawberries if you have them.”
“Of course.” He again left them with a backward step followed by a quick turn to enter the kitchen door. He soon reappeared balancing a small crystal bowl filled with sugar-dusted strawberries on his silver tray.
“Have you set a wedding date?” Santos asked.
