Fierce Pride Read Free Page A

Rafael stood as she left them, but her sister had turned her life upside down for the man, and whether or not he had fine manners, it just didn’t feel right.
     
     
    Relief swept through Santos when he discovered Libby wasn’t sitting out on the patio when he arrived. “Libby was ahead of me. Did she make it home?”
    “Yes,” Maggie answered. “She did, but she mumbled something about your not being able to keep up.”
    “We must have misunderstood her,” Rafael offered with a sly grin.
    Santos wiped his face on the bottom of his T-shirt. “No, she runs like a gazelle, with no effort at all. She also asked questions I didn’t want to answer. I must have insulted her.”
    “Questions about me?” Rafael asked.
    Santos nodded. “I need a shower. I’ll see you at dinner.”
    Rafael waited until they were again alone. “I ought to tell Libby the truth before one of the tabloids prints it.”
    “She took French in school, not Spanish.”
    “So you’re hoping the fact I’ve served time for murder might slip her notice?”
    She reached for his hand this time. “It’s the least interesting thing about you. Why not?”
    He leaned forward and brought her hand to his lips. “Are you hoping your parents and sisters will accept me as the man you love without wanting to know more about me?”
    Her chin rose to a stubborn tilt. “It ought to be enough.”
    He stood. “It won’t be, but we should tell the truth rather than convenient lies. Let’s begin with your sister.”
    “All right, if you’ll come back for dinner tonight.”
    “What’s Tomas serving?”
    She regarded him with an openly appreciative glance. The warmth of the day didn’t matter. He always looked cool and better looking than any man had a right to be. “Do you really care?”
    He answered with a slow, deep kiss. “No. I’ll see you later.”
    Maggie closed her eyes and sighed softly. She was certain every couple had a few secrets, and she intended to keep hers. Relaxed, she daydreamed of the life she’d have with Rafael until Libby joined her.
    “I didn’t bring my laptop. Is there any way to check e-mail here?”
    “Yes, there’s an Internet connection in the den. I’ve used Santos’s laptop a time or two. It’s on the desk.”
    “He might not appreciate my using it.”
    “He won’t mind. He doesn’t use it often. His fan mail goes to his website, where a virtual assistant in his agent’s office handles it.”
    Libby’s eyes widened. “His website? Come with me. I want to see it.” She watched Maggie rise slowly from her chair and instantly suspected something was very wrong. “Are you sick? Do you have some deadly disease that’s forcing you to marry so soon?”
    Maggie shook her head. “No, I’m perfectly healthy.” She hesitated a moment, and then pulled up her sleeves to show the new scars on her wrists. “My grandmother drugged me and slit my wrists, hoping I’d bleed to death before anyone found me.”
    “She did what!” Libby shrieked.
    Tomas looked out the kitchen door. “Señorita?”
    “We’re fine, Tomas,” Maggie assured him, and the chef shrugged and returned to his kitchen.
    “Rafael and Santos can tell the story better than I can, so let’s wait until tonight to talk about it.”
    Libby rested her hands on her hips. “I don’t think so, and begin at the beginning.”
    Although Rafael was intent upon revealing the truth, Maggie regretted broaching the subject. She returned to her chair and focused on the sea. “I suppose the story begins when our mother met Miguel Aragon.”
    Libby pulled a chair around to face her. “Fine, begin there.”
    Maggie needed a moment to organize her thoughts. She could only guess what had happened when her mother and father had met, but her grandmother Carmen’s hatred must have begun at that precise moment.
     
     
    Rather than a suit, as his grandmother had insisted, Santos wore a pale blue silk shirt and gray slacks to dinner. Rafael’s clothes were