How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview) (10 page)

“I know,” she said between sobs.

Fernando held her firmly, not knowing what
else he could say or do. And then, after a bit, the crying
lessened, and it seemed she was drifting off to sleep.

“Can we just stay here awhile?” she asked,
beginning to doze.

“For as long as you’d like,” he said, holding
her close.

Ana María entered the kitchen as Fernando was
grilling a
pan tostado
.

“Making your own breakfast?” Ana María asked
with surprise. “Consuelo will be down any minute.”

“I didn’t want to trouble Consuelo,” Fernando
answered, putting the kettle to boil.

“What’s going on?” his mother asked
suspiciously.

“Jessica’s not feeling well.”

“Oh dear!” she said with alarm. And then with
a knowing nod, she added, “Ah, the morning sickness. It’s begun
already.”

“Isn’t it early?” Fernando asked.

“Depends on the woman, as well as the
pregnancy,” Ana María stated with authority. “With Margarita, I
didn’t feel it for months. With you, however, I was sick right
away. I chalked it up to conflicting hormones.”

Fernando felt a flash of pride at the thought
of fathering a boy. Though a little girl would be nice too. He
stopped himself, realizing he was fantasizing about a pregnancy
that didn’t exist. “Mamá, about the baby… I don’t think we should
get too carried away or excited.”

“Posh! Babies are always exciting. Such joys.
Just you wait and see, Fernando, when you hold your own child in
your arms.”

He had to admit the thought of having a baby
had its appeal, particularly with one beautiful blonde as the
mother. She’d look just like the Madonna, with her halo of golden
hair. He’d never suspected she was so religious until he’d caught
her reading the Bible.

“Fernando, your toast is burning,” she warned
as smoke curled from the oven.

He hastily withdrew the tray, seeing from its
charred contents he’d have to start over.

“Perhaps you should let Consuelo bring it up
after all?” his mother suggested.

“Maybe you’re right,” he answered, thinking
he’d been away from his Madonna too long. What if she awakened and
missed having him there?

“I wonder if he’ll have blue eyes,” Ana María
said. “Or green, like yours?”

“Who?”

“Your son, of course.”

“Mother,” he said seriously. “I need to talk
to you about the baby—and the marriage too.”

Her cheeks sagged with concern. “What’s
happened, Fernando?”

“It’s maybe what hasn’t,” he said, hanging
his head.

Ana María righted his chin in her hands. “I’m
your mother. You can tell me.”

“You’ll be disappointed,” he said, unable to
meet her eyes.

“Do you love her?”

“What?”

“Fernando, look at me.”

He met her warm brown gaze, laced with
compassion.

“I said,” she repeated softly, “do you love
her?”

“With my whole heart, Mamá.”

“Then, you don’t need to tell me the details.
You’re a grown man, and whatever the problem is, I trust that you
will fix it.”

“What if I can’t?”

She slapped him across the chest, causing him
to take a step back in surprise. “Are you a mouse or a man? What
happened to the tough little boy who wanted to take on the bulls,
eh? That boy,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “is still in
there. Being gored by a bull once didn’t take him away.”

Fernando admired his mother’s brutal beauty.
She was, without question, as tough as any beast he’d ever
faced.

“I understand what you have sacrificed for
me. I know you left the ring because you didn’t want to leave me a
widow and the mother of a dead child besides. But your heart was
there. You loved the sport and were extremely skilled at it too.
Maybe even more talented than your grandfather. You were never
afraid for yourself, only concerned for me. And now, I am concerned
for you. You have to fight for your life, Fernando. Fight for the
life you want and the one you believe in your heart you were born
to have.”

He stared at her a long while, swallowing
hard. He never could have made it in this world without her. Of all
the attributes she possessed, her wisdom was her greatest strength.
She was right, of course. About everything.

“Thanks, Mother,” he said, feeling the heat
in his eyes but keeping emotions at bay. “I will take your advice
to heart.”

Jess stumbled across the room, still half
dazed from her deep slumber. That infernal telephone had rung half
a dozen times—then a pause—then it would start up again! Following
the chime and its accompanying vibration, she lurched for a chair
beside the picture window onto which Fernando had hastily dropped
his trousers last night. Something jiggled and jumped just beneath
the open fly. Ah! She grabbed for the cell just in time, midway
between ring three and four.

“Please tell me you’re in Seville.”

“Evie?” Jess said with surprise. “What are
you doing calling me here?”

“I had the number from your incoming call.
What do you think?”

Jess pushed Fernando’s slacks aside, sat in
the chair, and rubbed her brow. “I think it’s nine in the morning.
What’s your point?”

“My point is, I just woke up with the most
horrible nightmare. I had visions of you telling me the whole trip
was off.”

“What trip?” Jess said, feigning
innocence.

“To Seville, you big dummy!”

“It is off,” Jess said. “But not like you
think.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying I need to spend the day in
bed.”

“Jess…” Evie said, her voice pitched low,
“now’s not the time to turn into a sex machine.”

“A what? No! You don’t understand. I have a
headache.”

“What?”

“And a stomach ache too. Really, my tummy’s
killing me.”

“You never get sick.”

“I know. That’s the kicker.”

There was an odd pause at the other end of
the line.

“Where’s the matador?” Evie finally said.

Jess panned the room, peering into the
bathroom as well.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Good. Then you can tell me the truth.”

“I just did.”

“You’re playing possum, Jess.”

Jess sat up a little straighter, indignant.
“I take offense at what you’re saying.”

“I thought you told me there was some sort of
timeline going on here.”

“Well… Maybe.”

“That you had to get to the magistrate to
stop him from sending the paperwork to Madrid.”

Jess’s eyes fell on the Bible, midway across
the room. “We’re still married in the eyes of the church.”

“Now you’re talking crazy.”

Jess heard whistling in the hall and knew
Fernando was coming. He pressed open the door, carrying a plentiful
tray. “Breakfast is served!” he said with a flourish. His eyes fell
on hers as she frantically gripped the phone.

“Jess!” Evie yelped.

“Gotta dash!” Jess said, quickly hitting End
Call.

“Who was that?” Fernando asked, setting the
tray on a table.

“Only my very best friend on earth,
Evie.”

“Splendid,” he said with a smile. “She’ll
have to come and visit.”

Eve shoved garments into her carry-on bag,
the one that could easily fit into the overhead compartments on
airplanes. Jessica Bloom had totally flipped her lid, and Eve was
going to have to fly to Iberia to unflip it. Jesus H. Christ. She
was under a tight deadline at work, and her bosses would be furious
at her for skipping out on them now. What could she say to take
leave on such short notice? Maybe that a close relative had died?
Yes, that would work. Besides, it was nearly the truth. The girl
she’d known and loved since middle school had turned into a virtual
stranger.

Eve set the coffeepot to brew and started
searching airlines on the Internet. She couldn’t get a travel deal
through an online retailer at the last minute. She’d have to book
the flight directly. Maybe the dead-relative ruse would work with
them as well. That might even give her a discount. She was going to
get Jess for this, she surely was. Jess was the most cynical person
Eve knew. She didn’t even believe in love. So how come all of a
sudden she seemed all bent on getting stuck in a marriage? Perhaps
the matador was wicked or had cast some kind of weird spell over
her. Eve had heard there were gypsies in Spain. Could they have
gotten involved somehow with some sort of black magic?

Eve twisted up her hair and shoved a
chopstick into the knot. She’d had carry-out last night for dinner
but had been lazy and used a fork, so this one was clean. She felt
a rash coming on, her skin getting all itchy, and thought maybe
she’d better take an antihistamine. Eve wondered briefly if she
should call Jess’s mother, then decided against it on two counts.
One, it was three in the morning, and two, Jess’s mom was a little
high-strung to start. No sense in stringing her out further, when
maybe there wasn’t much to worry about.
Like hell,
Eve
thought; there was plenty to worry about. But that was her job as
the best friend. She was smart. She had a skill set. She even spoke
Spanish! Much better than Jess, for crying out loud. And Jess was
the one who’d bought into some bull.
Okay, calm down, Eve,
she told herself.
Spinning off into about a billion directions
won’t do. Make a list, that’s right. Starting with email to
bosses.

Eve felt a stab of panic, wondering what
she’d do if Jess wouldn’t cooperate once she got there. You
couldn’t call Child Protective Services on someone over eighteen,
and they probably wouldn’t help if that party was in another
country anyway. It didn’t matter. Eve could figure the rest of it
out once she got to La Esperanza del Corazón and had studied the
situation firsthand. Clearly, when Jess saw her face-to-face, she’d
realize how out of touch with reality she’d become and beg Eve to
take her home. It was hard being the responsible one in the
relationship. That was normally Jess’s job, but she’d somehow
turned the tables on Eve. And Eve didn’t like it one bit.

Jess and Fernando sat in bed, snacking on the
remains of their “light” breakfast.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling so much
better,” Fernando said.

“Yes, thanks. The tea instead of coffee was a
good move. Though, don’t get me wrong. I totally love the coffee
here. Just not today,” she said, polishing off her toast.

She really had quite a good appetite once she
got started. They’d had to have Consuelo bring up extra biscuits
and tea—twice.

“I’m glad that you talked to me,” he said
sincerely. “About what was bothering you before.”

She surveyed him, brilliant blue eyes
smiling. “You know what they say, confession is good for the
soul.”

“Are you Catholic?” he asked suddenly.

“No. Methodist. Why?”

“It’s nothing. I just wondered.”

“I would have to convert, wouldn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“Isn’t there some kind of rule about that?
About Protestants marrying Catholics?”

“I’d have to look it up,” he said.

“Now you’re teasing me.”

“I don’t believe anyone should do anything
that they don’t want to. Concerning religion or anything else. I
understand that you hold your own beliefs.”

She shot him a curious glance. “Fernando,”
she said, “what’s going to happen when we get to Seville?”

“Anything you’d like. Why?”

“You know what I’m talking about
—
the magistrate.”

“Yes, well, of course we’ll go there. That’s
on the agenda.”

“Agenda?” she asked, staring up at him with
big, innocent eyes.

“There’s a lot to see in Sevilla, Jessica.
Given that you may never go there again, I’d hate for you not to
take full advantage of the trip.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Only one thing.”

She waited expectantly.

“That before we go to the magistrate, you
allow me to show you something.”

“Like…?” she pressed.

“Just something,” he said, holding firm.

There was plenty he intended to show her.
Given her devout nature, starting with the Cathedral of Seville.
Then there’d be a long walk by the river. Perhaps a lazy lunch in
the Barrio de Santa Cruz… Oh! He’d forgotten the Giralda, a lovely
Moorish tower adjoining the Cathedral and once belonging to the
ancient mosque that had previously stood in its place. There was
also the Tower of Gold, the Archives of the Indies, the Royal
Alcazar…

“All right,” she agreed, “but how long will
that take?”

“That’s hard to say,” he offered. “Better
pack an overnight bag.”

****

Jess didn’t have a whole lot to put in an
overnight bag. When she’d run off with Fernando to La Esperanza del
Corazón, she’d left most of her things in the business apartment in
Madrid. She’d been flying back and forth so frequently, the home
office had set her up with a semipermanent spot. The neat little
efficiency apartment was a short walk to Retiro Park and a block
from the Prado, not that she often had time to take in the sights
during her hurried business trips. There were so many meetings to
attend, with principle players and corporate affiliates all vying
for her attention. Global Financial Telecom was in the
come home
to papa
business, and everyone in the industry knew it. Smaller
entities absorbed by GFT were favored by a worldwide reach and saw
their stock values double overnight. Jess didn’t really mind being
in the takeover business when the other parties were all so eager
to jump. Besides, she’d enjoyed the people she’d met, all of whom
were intelligent and interesting. Only one had been devastatingly
handsome, and had made her heart skip a beat each time he’d met her
eyes with his piercing green gaze.