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Santos responded with a lazy grin. “You’ve never seen the basement, have you?”

“There’s a lot more than the washer and dryer down there,” Fox added.

“I’ll look forward to touring it at another time,” Maggie answered. She removed the white bow from a present wrapped in silver paper. Claudio and Nadia had given them a silver frame engraved with their names and wedding date. “Thank you so much. Daddy, you’ve got to send me all the photos, and I’ll choose one for this.”

“That’s a lovely gift,” Linda offered, and Claudio and Nadia beamed at her praise.

“There’s just one more.” Rafael handed it to his bride. “It’s from Cirilda and Alfonso.”

“Better soak it in water,” Fox suggested.

“She wouldn’t wrap a bomb, would she?” Linda asked.

Santos shrugged. “No, but she would have liked to. I won’t make excuses for her. She’ll probably offer an apology in the morning, but it won’t be the last of the trouble she’ll cause.”

“She must be desperate for attention,” Patricia suggested. “Guess she wasn’t her father’s favorite.”

“Do you think I have favorites?” Peter asked, clearly appalled.

“Yes, of course, and everyone knows it’s me,” Patricia claimed with a charming giggle.

“You’re all my favorites,” Peter insisted. “I couldn’t pick one of you girls.”

Rafael saw a threat of tears brighten Maggie’s eyes and reached for the box. “Let’s just open it. He peeled away the shiny white gift wrap, removed the lid and found an expensive set of steak knives. It was a practical gift, but everyone’s eyes widened, for surely Cirilda had meant to taunt him rather than celebrate his marriage.

Maggie leaned close to her husband. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but the woman certainly isn’t subtle.”

It took a moment for Rafael to realize his wife was amused rather than insulted, and he followed her example. “I’ll write to thank her for such a useful gift. May we leave everything here while we’re away?”

“Yes, take them up to Maggie’s room, and they’ll be safe there,” Santos said.

“I’m not ready for the day to end,” Linda murmured softly. Peter took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Our girls are growing up. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“I know, but I’m not ready for it.”

“Maybe you need another piece of cake,” Perry suggested.

“What a wonderful idea,” Libby agreed. “Let’s go back to the dining room and eat there, or is that too much to ask of the kitchen staff?”

Santos was getting better at rising to his feet. “No, Tomas will probably be expecting us.” He let Libby go on in ahead of him and hung back to stay with the twins and Fox. “Thank you again for coming for the wedding. It meant a lot to Maggie and me to have the best part of our family together today.”

Fox whispered, “I didn’t mind coming, but next time don’t invite Cirilda.”

“Remind me.”

Santos drew in a deep breath and released it in a sigh, grateful that the evening had gone as well as it had. Connie caught Maggie’s bouquet, blushed bright red and glanced at Fox. Santos noticed, but Fox had eyes only for Patricia, who’d be gone tomorrow. At least his sudden infatuation had kept him from brooding as he usually did, so on the whole, Santos thought they’d ended the evening ahead. He stood on the porch and waved good-bye with the others as Maggie and Rafael drove away. He wasn’t sure he believed in love, but he was positive he’d never repeat silly promises that couldn’t be kept and call it a marriage.

Chapter Eight

Before they went upstairs to bed, Patricia’s mother pulled her aside. “Fox is very taken with you, but you’ll forget him by the time we land in Minneapolis. Don’t let it get past a good-night kiss, or he’ll go back to school madly in love with you.”

“I really like him. His mother was killed in a plane crash soon after she’d married Miguel. He pretends to barely tolerate the Aragon family, but they’re all he has. I won’t add to his problems and break his heart.”

“You won’t mean to,” Linda stressed, “but you will.”

Patricia planned to meet Fox in the den as soon as Libby went to sleep, but her mother didn’t need to know. “I know everyone has feelings; I won’t lead him on.”

“I worry about you, Patricia,” her mother paused to admit and went on to her room.

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