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on’t want him hanging out in the girls’ room.”
“Don’t we have a big enough problem with Maggie’s taste in men? Let’s not look for others. Libby’s responsible, and she’ll take care of Patricia. Now come to bed.”
Peter unbuttoned his shirt. Santos had a spooky resemblance to Miguel, and the instincts he’d learned to trust in a courtroom made him wary. He’d keep a closer watch on his daughters tomorrow, all three of them.
Chapter Six
Santos was already seated on the patio when Libby left the house Thursday morning to run. She would have walked right on by him, but he called her name. “I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have asked you to be my bodyguard.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“That’s what I just said. I have a better idea.”
She rested her hands on her hips and remained on the opposite side of the table. “Is it something you truly believe I’ll want to hear?”
“I hope so. You said you work as a personal trainer. I don’t expect you to handle physical therapy for my knee, but I do need to stay in shape, or I won’t fit into my suits when I return to the bullring. You could work for me the rest of the summer, have free room and board and save money for college. I’ll write a reference. My name might mean something even in the United States.”
If he hadn’t looked so damn sincere, she would have laughed and walked away. Maybe it was simply too early in the morning for his smirk to form. “I’ll think about it.”
“Decide today. You’ll have to change your plane ticket and—”
Libby circled the table, put her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him hard. When she broke away, he looked so startled, she kissed him again. “There’s more than one way to stay in shape,” she advised and sprinted away.
Santos sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure if she’d just said yes or told him to spend the summer in bed with someone else to keep fit. He’d thought he was fluent in English, but they really weren’t communicating. He didn’t want to sit there looking like a fool until she returned, so he got up and went back to bed. When he got up the second time, Maggie had taken her family and gone to tour Las Ramblas, where they could sightsee, shop and have lunch.
He didn’t have time to feel lonely before Rafael arrived, and they went into the den. Santos made himself comfortable on the sofa, while Rafael paced up and down in front of him. “I don’t have time to deal with Orlando Ortiz this week,” Santos said. “After you’ve gone on your honeymoon, I’ll make an appointment, ask if he’s interested in my car and see what he says. My father insisted no one believes a matador has any brains, which works to our advantage.”
“I’m sure it does, but I don’t want to wait that long. Let’s pay him a visit this afternoon.”
“No. I won’t go. Let’s make whoever was in the black SUV wait. I’m the potential victim, and I’ll handle them. All you need do is dance and make love to Maggie.”
Rafael went to the bar. “What do you want?”
“Whatever you’re pouring.”
Rafael brought him bourbon, neat. “I hope you know enough not to drink before a corrida. Booze and drugs will kill you faster than the bulls.”
“That’s another of my father’s sayings. I miss him.”
Rafael raised his glass in a silent salute. “Everyone does. Now let’s go see Ortiz.”
Santos swallowed his drink in a single gulp and rolled the glass between his palms. He spoke in so serious a tone, Rafael couldn’t misunderstand. “Let me put it another way. If anything goes wrong, which of course it will, you’re the one with the prison record. It won’t impress Maggie, or her parents, if you miss the wedding because Ortiz takes offense to our visit and has you arrested.”
“While you’d walk out of his office?”
“I’ll limp out on my crutches. Clearly I’m no threat, but you’re a different sort of man.”
Rafael’s dark glance grew black. “For which I’m deeply grateful.”
“So am I. Do this for Maggie. I won’t leave the house until after the wedding, and I’m safe here.”
“Someone may be watching the house.”
“Let them watch. It’s as secure as a fortress.”
“There’s a very real danger in being overconfident,” Rafael warned. “Miguel must have warned you against it.”
Santos smiled at the memory. “Yes, he once referred to a man as having such a high opinion of himself his cock must drag in the dirt.”
