Fierce Pride (18 page)

“He is,” Fox assured them.

Libby slid off the bed and pulled her jacket over her sleep shirt. She led the way down the hall and, taking care not to bother their parents, rapped lightly on Santos’s door.

When he invited her in, she carried the mail to his bed and handed it to him. “What’s the story on this?”

Disgusted the wretched drawing and letters hadn’t stayed where Rafael had hidden them, he shrugged them off as unimportant. “Where did you get these?”

“Where you left them,” Fox replied.

He hadn’t told Fox, the Gundersons or the twins the details on his injured knee, and he didn’t intend to. As far as they knew, he’d just slipped and fallen. “Where are the twins? Don’t they want in on the after-hours party?”

“Shall I go get them?” Fox asked.

“No, don’t,” Santos insisted. He brushed off the threats as though they weren’t worth noticing. “I’ve not paid any attention to my fan mail, and as it turns out, some of it’s scary. I didn’t want to handle it while we had guests, but I’ll take care of it next week. Now I’m tired, and I’d like to get some sleep.”

Libby ushered Fox and Patricia out of the room, but she turned to send him a furious glance as she closed the door behind them.

He’d thought she’d understand why he didn’t want to worry her or her family. Of course not, she was the most unpredictable girl he’d ever met. He’d have to find a way to work it out tomorrow. He turned out his light, and rather than fall asleep, he wondered how to do it.

Sunday morning, Peter met Santos when he returned from the first run to the airport with Fox and the twins. “You’ve been such a gracious host. Last night’s dinner was the best we’ve ever eaten, but the bride’s family pays for the reception dinner, and I’d like to cover the expense.”

Santos straightened up to his full height. He had a charming smile, but there was a stubborn edge to his voice. “I’m glad you enjoyed the party, but Maggie’s last name is Aragon, and I’m her family too, so there’s nothing to discuss. Miguel would have said the same thing. Please come back anytime you’re able, and you’ll always be welcome here.”

Peter frowned but reluctantly nodded. “Thank you again. You must come to visit us so we can entertain you.”

“Wouldn’t a matador be out of place in Minneapolis?”

“Only if you’re looking for work. You’re sure to enjoy the United States as a tourist.”

Their luggage was already in the foyer, and Libby came down the stairs with Patricia and her mother. “You two look so serious, I hope you’re not worried about me staying here, Dad.”

“I won’t be as long as you e-mail us often with something more than the weather report,” Peter responded. He looked at his watch. “Does everyone have everything?”

“I’ll bring home anything you’ve forgotten,” Libby offered.

Manuel entered to carry out their luggage, and Libby went out first rather than lag behind. Her mother hesitated to make certain she had her passport in her purse. “Thank you for everything, Santos. You’ve made staying here a pleasure rather than the awkward few days I’d expected. Please come and see us when you can.”

Santos forced a smile. His father had chased blue-eyed blondes who resembled her his whole life. Or rather, allowed them to catch him. Just looking at her felt like a knife in the gut. This wasn’t the time to defend his mother as Miguel’s one true love, but he remained certain of it. “Thank you. I would like to see the States. I’ll take good care of Libby.”

Linda smiled warmly. “I’m sure you will. Good-bye.”

Santos smelled Patricia’s strawberry bubblegum as she leaned close to kiss his cheek. “I gave Fox my e-mail address, I hope that’s all right.”

“It is, but please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Patricia popped her gum. “You ought to worry about your crazy fans rather than me.”

Santos didn’t appreciate her advice but followed her out to the porch and waved as the Gundersons drove away. The house was empty now, and he took the elevator upstairs to check in Libby’s room and make certain her belongings were still there. He stretched out on her bed to rest his knee and replayed the weekend in his mind.

The Gundersons were a fine example of a happy family, something he’d rarely observed. They made him feel hollow, empty, as though he were lacking some basic component of humankind. He remembered the awful drawing and thought the artist must have come from a family even more screwed up than the Aragons.

Libby found him in her room when she got back and lay down beside him. “Are you moving in with me?”

Expecting an exasperating conversation, he propped his hands behind his head to get more comfortable. “No, but I didn’t want to waste time when you got back. I hid the drawing from you because I didn’t want to deal with it, and I still don’t.”

She’d never forget the gruesome sketch, but she didn’t want to see it again. “Fine, but promise me you won’t hide something that significant again.”

“I can’t, not when I don’t know what hideous thing might turn up tomorrow.”

She’d driven back from the airport thinking how nice it would be to have the house to themselves, and she was in no mood to argue. She cuddled against him instead. “Let’s drop the subject for now, and by the way, I don’t think anything’s a waste of time with you.” She sat up to remove her sandals and tossed them toward the closet. He was wearing his running shoes, and she leaned over to untie them. “You must give Mrs. Lopez fits, parading girls through here.”

That he’d gotten off so easily amazed him, and he propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. “I didn’t live here until my father became ill, so it wasn’t an issue.”

“It’s an issue now.” She took hold of the bottom of his sweatshirt and pulled it off over his head. “You’ve got a great set of abs. What have you been doing to stay in shape?”

“What is this, a fitness interview?”

She ran her hand over his chest. His skin was a handsome golden tan. “You could look at it that way. You wax your chest?”

She circled his nipples with a tickling touch, and he grabbed her hand. “Yeah, but I absolutely refuse to wax my balls.”

She laughed. “I don’t blame you.” She pulled off her short dress, and sent it sailing toward his sweatshirt. Her bra and bikini panties were a glossy ice blue. “I don’t want to get too rough and hurt you. Tell me if I do.”

“I’m not fragile, but what do you have in mind?”

“Nothing kinky, unless you want me to handcuff you to the bed.”

He sat up. “Did you pack handcuffs?”

“I would, but they show up on the baggage X-ray, and it’s impossible to get them through security.” She gave her lips a suggestive lick.

She’d left her hair down, and he grabbed a handful to pull her close. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

She leaned down to give him a slow kiss she didn’t end until he had to gasp for breath. “I’ll let you wonder.” He was already so hard she doubted he could consider much.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” She slid her hands around the waistband on his sweatpants. “I’m going to go slow so I don’t hurt your knee.”

He lay back and raised his hands above his head. “You’re already hurting everything else.”

She pulled down his pants to his hipbones and placed a kiss in his navel. “Everything looks all right so far. You always smell so good. Do you douse your whole body with your magic cologne?”

He drew in a ragged breath. “No, I put it on my chest rather than my face so it doesn’t overpower anyone.”

“How considerate. It would be awful if women followed you down the street. Or should I say, even more women?”

“I hope you’re not all talk.”

She rolled his pants down lower and regarded him with an admiring glance. He had both length and girth, the ideal romantic combination. “I certainly can’t say that about you.”

“The Aragon men take pride in not disappointing women.”

“Is it on your family crest?”

He laughed harder than he had in weeks. “No, but I’ll seriously consider putting it there.”

She slid off the end of the bed to remove his pants, dropped them and crawled up over him. She straddled his thighs, took hold of his cock with both hands and locked eyes with him as she gently twisted her hands in opposite directions. “Tell me what you like.”

“Your hands feel so good.” He sighed. “Do you provide a menu?”

“If you want one.” She leaned down to suck the tip of his cock into her mouth, and let her hair fall over his belly.

He wound his fingers in her soft curls. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

She moved down his thighs so she could mouth his balls. She traced her name with the tip of her tongue and looked up as he moaned way back in his throat. “Too much?”

“Oh God, no,” he assured her.

She slid her tongue over his other testicle and, thinking men were so damn easy to please, slowly drew it into her mouth. She rested her head on his thigh, breathed in and found his own musk blended with his cologne in a potent mix. “I don’t suppose they’d allow anything like this in the cologne ads.”

“Probably not, but you’ll have to come with me and suggest it.”

“I’ll be happy to. It would certainly sell the cologne.” She moved over his hips to align his cock with her slit and licked his nipples while she rocked slightly. “I don’t know how I could be so forgetful. Aren’t the condoms in your room?”

“No, I planned ahead this time and put some in my pants pocket.”

“Ah, how thoughtful of you.” She reached over the end of the bed to snag his sweatpants and pulled three from his pocket. “Ambitious, aren’t you?”

“I told you we don’t disappoint.”

She laid two condoms on the nightstand and ripped the third open with her teeth. Her gaze held a smoldering heat. “Am I rushing you?”

“You have the most beautiful blue eyes, and I’ve wanted you since we met at the airport.”

“You’ve been very good at waiting. Do you expect a reward?”

“Hell, yes!”

She thumbed the underside of his cock, rubbing the sensitive spot where the head met the shaft before unrolling the condom. She rose up on her knees. He was big, but she was thoroughly wet and slipped her bikinis aside to take him in deep, inch by delicious inch. She clenched her inner muscles to massage him in a slow, pumping rhythm. When his eyes glazed over, she rose slightly to sway above him.

He reached for the spot where their bodies met, and she covered his hand with hers to urge him to press harder. She rode him with a tantalizing, rocking motion to let the bliss chase him until she’d welcomed her own. Seconds later, he came with a husky cry, and she carefully pulled free and collapsed on his left side to spare his knee. She drew in a deep breath and perfectly content, closed her eyes.

He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand to get rid of the condom, but even that small motion took enormous effort. She was curled around his arm, and he was too spent to do more than lace his fingers in hers. He checked her travel clock and was grateful they had a couple of hours before they’d have to leave for the bullring. If they could get out of bed. He liked having a woman on top to enjoy the view, but he felt as though he’d been caught in a wild fire with Libby. Thoroughly scorched, he wondered if their bodies were smoking.

Santos shook Libby’s shoulder gently. “You look so blissfully happy I hate to wake you, but it’s time to get ready to go.”

His hair was damp from the shower, and he’d changed into khaki shorts and a black polo shirt. He was leaning on his crutches and smiling like a kid who’d found everything he wanted under the Christmas tree.

She rolled over and yawned. “Either you’re great at sex, or I just had the best erotic dream ever.”

“It’s me, and it was real. I was afraid we’d singed the walls.”

She sat up, shoved her hair out of her eyes and looked around. “We can try again tonight. There must be a fire extinguisher in the kitchen.”

He laughed and moved toward the door. “Being with you is like being in a comedy sketch.”

“Not every man would approve.”

“I do, and I’m the only man you need to worry about. Wear that short dress.”

He closed the door behind him, and she rolled off the bed, yawned, stretched and made it up quickly. She went into the bathroom, leaned close to the mirror and found a pretty blush glowing from her cheeks all the way to her navel. It was a good thing no one else was home, because she’d never be able to deny how she’d spend the afternoon. She’d known their bodies would fit together beautifully, but there was something more. It had simply been so easy to be with Santos, as though they’d been together a thousand times. She didn’t believe in past lives, but if she had had another existence, he must have played a major part in it.

The crowd at the bullring was as noisy as it had been the previous Sunday. When they reached their seats, Santos handed Libby a pair of binoculars and told her to watch the crowd on the sunlit side of the arena. She adjusted for the distance, brought everyone into focus, and swept the crowded tiers with a careful eye. People were still moving, waving and standing to shout to their friends.