Fierce Pride Read Free Page B

equally fine, but he preferred black. Maggie wore a long terra-cotta skirt that brushed her ankles with a matching long-sleeved scooped-neck top. Libby’s blue mini-dress had a pretty swirling pattern, but all Santos saw were miles of gorgeous well-toned legs. He had swallowed only sip of a superb cream of broccoli soup when Libby spoke.
    “Do you mind if I use your laptop while I’m here? I want to answer e-mail. I don’t plan to compose a thesis on it.”
    She’d wound her hair into a knot atop her head and left a few tendrils brushing her neck. She had such beautiful hair he had to fight a primal impulse to rip out the pins and swim in it. “Use it as often as you like.”
    “Thank you. Will it spoil your appetite if I ask you about the night Maggie got cut up while we eat?”
    Santos set his spoon on his plate and drew in a deep breath. “I swear I can hear Carmen forbidding the topic as most unsuitable for the table.”
    “Their grandmother belongs in the category of ‘one who must not be named’,” Rafael added.
    “Let’s wait until later,” Maggie urged. “Barcelona is filled with all sorts of wonderful places worth seeing. We ought to make a list.”
    “I understand. Attempted murder is off-limits.” Libby swallowed a spoonful of the delicious soup. “I want to see everything, not just the tourist sights.”
    “We should take you to the Bailaora café for the flamenco,” Rafael suggested.
    “Your sister is a wonderful dancer,” Santos added. “Do you dance flamenco too?”
    “Maggie and I don’t have similar tastes. She’s a terrific big sister, but quiet, while I’m into sports and usually too loud. I’ll make it a point to lower my voice so I don’t frighten your countrymen.”
    She had no idea how sexy she sounded, but Santos didn’t care what she said. “I’ll remind you,” he offered with a wide grin, and Maggie kicked him under the table. “Hey, I’m trying to be a good host.”
    “You’re trying too hard,” Maggie warned.
    Libby laughed. “You two are so funny. Have you hired a photographer for the wedding? We should have photos of you and Santos together.”
    “Daddy can handle the photos,” Maggie replied. “Ana Santillan took gorgeous photos of Santos and me at the ranch. Her work is better than many professional photographers.”
    Santos snorted. “Ana Santillan ought to stay in front of the camera.”
    “ The Ana Santillan, the supermodel?” Libby asked.
    “Yes,” Rafael answered. “Santos knows many exciting women.”
    “ Knew ,” Santos emphasized. “Ana and I are no longer friends. Now let’s talk about flamenco and how beautifully Maggie dances.”
    “My favorite topic,” Rafael added.
    Santos winked at Libby. He couldn’t dance a step of flamenco, but he hoped he’d be able to take her to clubs where they could dance together. As lively as she was, she had to be a great dancer. He forced himself not to imagine her gorgeous body naked in his bed, but it was definitely a challenge.
     
     
    The Bailaora café was located on a dark, narrow street. Santos took Libby’s hand so she wouldn’t trip on the cobblestones. “This isn’t the best part of town. Stay close.”
    “We came for the dancing,” Maggie replied, “and we’re safe with Rafael.”
    “You have more confidence in him than I do,” Santos murmured.
    Rafael pushed open the door of the small café, and the owner, Felipe Muñoz, hurried to greet him. “Matador, welcome. How good to see you here again, and you’ve brought your beautiful lady. Will you dance for us tonight?”
    “We’d rather see your dancers. I’m sure you recognize Santos Aragon out of the ring.”
    Felipe stared wide-eyed. “Santos Aragon!” He turned toward the crowded room. “Everyone, what an occasion!”
    The café’s regular patrons leaped to their feet and cheered, “Santos, Santos!”
    Astonished, Libby gripped her sister’s arm. “Does everyone treat him like a rock star?”
    “A handsome