you.”
“Then maybe we should only dance.”
He laughed. “No, I want more. Tell me why you wish to protect my feelings. No one ever has.”
Maggie stared down the dark narrow street. She could smell the sea and drew in a deep breath. She could tell one truth at least, if not the more personal one. “At home no one even knows who Miguel Aragon is or cares if I’m his daughter. He’s idolized here, and I’m afraid if I stayed any longer I might do something wrong and…”
Rafael pulled her into a warm hug. “I see. I want everyone to know who I am, and you don’t.”
“Yes, that’s it.” She rested against him and wished he hadn’t worn such a seductive cologne. It was like floating in a sexy cloud. It was no wonder the first dancer had looked so disappointed to see him there with her.
“I want to take you home,” he murmured against her hair.
“Where else would you take me?”
“To my home, not your father’s.” He gave her a quick squeeze before releasing her.
She stepped back so quickly she bumped into his car. It was one thing to let her mind wander in lust-dripping fantasy, and another to live it. “I don’t suppose you mean to show off the architecture.”
“No, I want to show off something else entirely.”
She could easily imagine Craig jumping up and shouting this was most definitely not what he’d meant when he’d urged her to visit Barcelona. She grabbed an excuse. “I’m flattered, but no. I’m leaving soon and…”
“Maybe you’ll stay.”
He wore a sly smile that made his invitation all the more intriguing, but she wouldn’t give in to temptation tonight. “Yesterday was the first time I’d met my father. Barcelona isn’t home to me and never will be.”
“If I listened to every ‘never’ I heard, I’d be working on the docks.” He unlocked her door, waited for her to get in, and then shut it with a forceful shove.
Maggie hadn’t meant to anger him, but perhaps he was too proud to ever accept a no with a gentleman’s easy shrug. She buckled her seat belt and looked forward to getting home.
He drove slowly. “But if you stay here only a few days, I’ll have a broken heart when you leave.”
His voice held a teasing depth, but Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Maybe for a whole minute.”
“I thought you were worried about my feelings.”
She stifled a giggle. “I am. That’s why I’m going to my father’s house rather than yours.”
“So you care nothing for my heart?”
“If you’re so easily heartbroken, you’re too fragile to be dating.”
His chuckle echoed in the car. “No one would ever describe me as fragile.”
“Of course not. You couldn’t fight bulls if you were.”
“True. I’d like to dance with you again. Will you come out with me tomorrow night? I know other places we could go, and I promise not to introduce you as Miguel’s daughter.”
They were talking easily, which wasn’t difficult in the darkness of his car. If she’d been looking into his dark eyes, she doubted she could form a coherent sentence. Magnetism was the word she’d been searching for. The man drew her to him with his scent and voice as well as his remarkable good looks. Then there was the smooth way he moved, as though he’d been born for dancing, or sex.
“Could we wait until tomorrow to decide?” she asked. “I haven’t really figured out the routine here, and I don’t want to make plans that might conflict with my father’s household.”
He sighed. “I understand.”
It was plain he didn’t understand at all, and she reached over to touch his arm. “You frighten me a little, and I need some time to get used to you.”
He was quiet a long moment and sounded sad when he spoke. “Santos told you I’ve been in prison. I killed the man who raped my sister. My only regret is that he died too quickly, and I got caught.”
Now that was scary. “Santos did mention prison but not the details. Didn’t you trust the authorities to