AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned toward her. “Thank you. I didn’t want to put this off any longer, and please don’t argue with me. I spoke to your father yesterday, and you’re leaving for home this afternoon on a five o’clock flight. I’m not the man you want, the man you deserve, and let’s not make your leaving any more painful than it has to be. Maggie can help you pack. We’ll take the Hispano-Suiza to the airport.”
Had he smacked her
with a freshly caught trout, Libby couldn’t have been any more dumbfounded. His determined expression made it plain the matter was settled in his mind. His voice held a confident depth, as though sending her away on such short notice wouldn’t faze him at all. He’d let her eat lunch while he’d known all along what was coming! How could he have been so damn detached? She felt sick.
He’d ripped her heart right out of her chest. Rather than fly apart in a dozen directions, she fisted her hands and forced herself to speak slowly, as though she actually had control of her tattered emotions. “What was last night? The standard Santos Aragon good-bye party?” His eyes narrowed, making her elated she’d gotten to him.
“Absolutely not. I felt what you did. I just need you to go home now. I’ve already transferred the amount we’d agreed upon into your account.”
Thoroughly disgusted with him, she stood to leave the table. “This has never been about money, and I’ll transfer it right back to you. Maggie can take me to the airport, so I won’t have to trouble you any further or ride in your funky old car ever again.”
Maggie started to rise to follow Libby into the house, but Santos grabbed her hand. “I know I did that badly, but it was my only choice.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You broke my sister’s heart. What sort of choice was that? I warned Libby not to fall for you, but none of us can choose whom to love.”
Depressed clear to his soul, Santos let her go and remained alone on the patio until he was sure Libby had left for the airport. Then he couldn’t find the will to move beyond his chair.
Mrs. Lopez came out the door behind the stairs and called to him. “Detective Nuñez is here again.”
Santos had thought his mood couldn’t dip any lower, but he sank down another slippery level. “Send him out, please.”
Nunez strode out to the patio but refused a chair. “Mrs. Ramirez was changing the sheets on the little bed they have for Miguel Angel and found a rifle tucked into the side of the mattress. It wasn’t loaded, so there was no danger to the baby, but it should prove to be the one fired at you. I never feel a case is closed until I’ve wound up the straggling ends. Not having the rifle had bothered me.”
Santos looked up at him. “I’m relieved no one will take another shot at me. I appreciate your coming to tell me. I know you don’t think much of me, but…”
“You’re mistaken, Mr. Aragon. I was a great fan of your father’s, and if I compared you to him unfavorably, it was an unfortunate mistake.”
Santos nodded and hoped he’d never see the detective again, but that was the story of his life. Everyone compared him to Miguel. They saw only a spectacular matador and a son who might one day be as fine. He’d seen his father as a whole man, and he swore right then he wouldn’t write a single word about him, let alone a whole book.
As he got up to go inside and dress for dinner, it wasn’t lost on him that he was living the damn “Matador Blues”. He was too shaken to even hold his guitar, but when he could find the will to play, Libby would be in every note.
Chapter Nineteen
Santos had upgraded Libby’s ticket to first class, and the wide, comfortable seat gave her a chance to mourn in peace rather than be miserable while wedged into a row of five seats. She looked out at the tarmac as the other passengers boarded, and when someone sat down beside her, she didn’t care who it might be.
“Are you afraid of flying?” the man asked.
Libby turned toward him. He looked mid-thirties, blue-eyed and sandy-haired, casually dressed in jeans and a sweater over a long-sleeved sports shirt. For the trip, she’d put on her jeans and a black top to match her mood. “No, I don’t worry at all about flying. When your time’s up, you’re done, no matter where you are.”
“A lot of people would agree. I’m Brian Wells.”
He offered his hand, and she shook it. “Libby Gunderson.”
“This your first trip to Spain?” he asked.
Libby had the sinking feeling Brian was the talkative sort who wouldn’t shut up until they reached New York. “Yes. I came for my sister’s wedding, worked as a model and had a wild fling with a matador. How was your trip?”
Brian’s mouth fell agape. “You’re kidding, right?”
Libby remained icily cool. “About what?”
“All of it!”
“My sister married Rafael Mondragon. I’ve been living with Santos Aragon and modeled with him for ads for the new Aragon cologne. Wear it and you’ll be able to seduce every woman you meet.” She’d wanted a bottle to take home, but it would be too sad to have now when the scent would bring such painful memories. She turned back toward the window. Men were still tossing luggage onboard. Her one bag was fuller than it had been upon her arrival, but it still fit in the overhead bin.
“I saw both Mondragon’s and Aragon’s names on bullfight posters,” Brian said. “Isn’t a matador intimidating in person?”
“You have no idea,” she replied and let him think whatever he wished. Fortunately, he had an iPad, and once they were in the air, he began playing games on it. She stared out at the clouds and recalled the last hours she’d spent with Santos. If last night hadn’t been a well-orchestrated farewell, then she didn’t know how else it could be described. She wished he’d started an argument as an excuse to send her home, but he’d nearly loved her to death. He couldn’t have felt what she did, or he’d never have been able to send her away. She twisted the gold bracelet on her wrist. She hadn’t even been tempted to leave it behind. Already a beloved keepsake, it served as beautiful proof of an enchanted time that had ended all too soon.
