How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview) (11 page)

While she never let on, the truth was that,
over time, Jess increasingly looked forward to her little jaunts to
Madrid. She and Fernando didn’t just converse, they verbally
jousted. And she’d found herself more aroused, and her interest
more piqued, by each sparring encounter. He just may have been
trying to talk up his firm’s market price, but he did so in a way
that Jess found unbearably enticing. She’d never seen a wedding
band and had heard rumors on both sides of the Atlantic about the
ultra-eligible man being single. Still, she never would have
considered making a move. That simply wasn’t her. Besides, how
messy that would be, becoming involved with a business colleague
who lived an ocean away! Given her abysmal track record with men,
anything more than a simple flirtation wasn’t worth the risk. Now,
she was married.
Married.

Jess folded her cream-colored slacks in half
and tucked them in her bag. Given the pitcher of sangria or two
she’d downed in preparation, it seemed stunningly prescient that
she’d packed a wardrobe exclusively in shades of white. She hadn’t
known straightaway they were going to La Esperanza del Corazón to
get hitched. Fernando had asked her only two questions. One, did
she feel like doing something wild. And two, would she like to see
where he came from. Both sounded unbelievably reckless and
exciting. They left late-night voice mails to their respective
offices saying Jess was touring the south with Fernando to evaluate
some of his business holdings. In a way, that had been true, Jess
decided, thinking of the vineyard.

Why Fernando had whisked her into town and
wanted to show her that little church courtyard in the middle of
the night, she couldn’t anticipate. It seemed as if he hadn’t
totally planned it either. Because his bumping into Father Domingo
there had appeared a legitimate surprise. Not half an hour later,
Fernando was asking her to marry him, and she’d be damned if, at
that moment, it didn’t seem exactly right. He was so handsome
standing there in the moonlight. And when he held her and made her
promises… Jess felt her knees weaken at the memory of that very
first time. She was glad she’d had the foresight to pack several
nighties, two of which she tossed in her suitcase now.

Jess stared down at the heap of clothes in
her bag, thinking it didn’t precisely look like she was packing for
an annulment. She gingerly dangled a white silk thong from one
finger, considering whether she should take it back out. That could
depend entirely on what she anticipated might happen on this trip.
Jess dug through her larger bag until she found several more skimpy
undergarments, deciding to bring them along. Truth was, none of
these items took up much space. One way or another, it was best to
be prepared.

Fernando steadied his arms around her and
nestled her back against his chest as she gazed at the panorama.
“So what do you think?” he whispered in her ear.

“It’s stunning,” she said, still a bit
breathless from the steep climb up the numerous ramps.

They stood at the pinnacle of La Giralda, the
original minaret from the old Moorish mosque that once stood in the
place of Seville’s enormous cathedral. Rumor held that when the
Catholics drove the Moors from Spain, they’d razed everything
connected to Islam, save a few lovely relics they’d found too
abundantly beautiful to destroy. There was the Alhambra Palace in
Granada, the famed mosque in Córdoba, and this charming tower here,
which the Catholics had bastardized by transforming the place once
used for calling Muslims to prayer into a bell tower aimed at
beckoning Catholics to mass.

It was a warm and sunny afternoon, a
comfortable glow settling over the ancient part of the city and the
whitewashed former Jewish Quarter flanking La Giralda’s edge. All
afternoon, they’d meandered cobblestoned streets, stopping here and
there for a chilled white sherry or a pitcher of sangria, with
small rations of snacks, or
tapas
, offered on the side.
Fernando had checked them into a nice hotel with a lovely courtyard
behind a wrought-iron gate, stating it was never wise to do
business in Seville in the afternoon. Seeing a magistrate was best
reserved for the severity of morning, before people had enjoyed
their midday meal, a nice bottle of wine, and the accompanying
siesta.
With him being the local and all, and more familiar
with the landscape, Jess had naturally decided to defer to his
judgment. They clearly couldn’t have some magistrate mucking things
up on account of a good Rioja.

Fernando pointed out other landmarks around
them, including the buildings of a more modern Seville across the
waters of the Guadalquivir, and the remnants of an ancient maritime
fortress situated on this side of its banks.

“I thought tonight we’d take in a flamenco
show,” he told her.

“But we saw one of those in Madrid.”

“Imposters!” he declared with a laugh.
“Flamenco comes from the south. It’s a blend of historical regional
dance influenced by our Moorish cousins. What you saw in Madrid is
adequate but for the tourists. What I’ll take you to here, you’ll
also see children dance in the streets, especially at Feria.”

“Feria?”

“It’s the big festival in the spring,
connected to the sherry harvest. You’d love it, I think.”

She gazed back at him over her shoulder,
captivated by hypnotic green eyes.

“There are lots of horses…” he tempted.

“Why are you so sure I like horses?”

“Because,” he said, giving her a little
squeeze, “I’ve seen how you ride.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“Like a woman who was born to the saddle,” he
said, giving her neck a kiss.

A group of school children had paraded onto
the parapet. A couple pointed and giggled at Fernando’s public
display of affection while their teacher scorched them with a
disapproving glare.

“Come on,” he said, breaking away and taking
her hand. “Let’s go have a late lunch.”

“And think about taking a siesta?” she asked
hopefully.

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin.

Eve gawked as the cabbie pulled through the
gate of the expansive hacienda.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

“Casa Garcia de la Vega,
sí.
”

“Maybe we’ve got the wrong one.”

“There’s only one family in town with that
name.”

He came to a halt at the height of the
circular drive between a flowering rose garden and an imposing
front door. For the first time since she’d book her Iberia flight,
Eve felt a sense of panic. What if she’d done the wrong thing in
coming here? What if these people were lunatics and stocked the
place like a fortress with knives and guns? Even worse, what if
they were terribly good people, high-bred and well-mannered, and
Jess became furious at her for becoming involved? Eve swallowed
hard and stepped from the cab, thinking it was no time to chicken
out now.

She rapped three times, and, after what
seemed like an eternity, an old man in dirty britches and holding
garden tools answered. “
Bueno
?” he said by way of
greeting.

“Ah yes,” she answered in crisp, clear
Castilian. Eve was very proud of herself for being the first one in
her class in Spanish Four. The fact that this had been in high
school didn’t diminish the fact. “I was hoping to find Ms. Jessica
Bloom at home.”

He lowered his brow and stared at her. “
No
existe.
”

She didn’t exist? Oh my God! They had killed
her! Eve frantically glanced around, wishing with all her might
she’d asked the taxi driver to wait. Here she was, a million miles
from nowhere, with the gardener from some maniac family holding
murderous shears. She stared down at his hedge clippers, thinking
she spied hints of dried blood. Maybe it was red Spanish clay. She
wasn’t sure but certainly wasn’t ready to take the chance. Eve took
two giant steps back, nearly stumbling down the stone stairs.

The old man surveyed her cautiously, then
began to close the door.

“Pedrito!” a woman’s voice called from
inside. “Who’s there?”

The man stepped aside, his keen eye on Eve,
almost like he believed her to be the dangerous party.

“Hello,” the elegant middle-aged woman said.
“I’m Ana María Garcia de la Vega. How may I help you?”

“I’m Eve. Eve Parker,” she said, extending
her hand.

Ana María shook it, appearing vaguely
uncomfortable with the gesture.

“You come from America?”

“In search of my friend, Jessica Bloom. Last
I heard, she was here.”

Ana María smiled pleasantly. “She’s a Garcia
de la Vega now.”

“So I heard,” Eve said, willing herself to
remain calm.

“And yes, she was here, but I’m afraid she’s
not now. She and Fernando have gone to Seville.”

“Thank God!” Eve cried, unable to stop
herself. She cupped her hand to her mouth, recalling she was in a
very Catholic country.

Ana María shared a disapproving look.
“They’ve gone there on holiday. Their honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?”

“What else might one assume? They’ve only
been married five days.”

Eve hoped Ana María had it wrong. Surely she
meant they’d gone there to get an annulment. But if Ana María
didn’t know that, Eve decided she ought not to mention it. The
concept of slaying the messenger was common to all lands, and there
was a man holding sharp implements nearby.

“Can you point me in the direction of
Seville?” Eve smiled brightly and acted like she asked the question
every day.

Ana María studied her for a prolonged beat.
“Are Jessica and Fernando expecting you?”

“Jess is like a sister to me.” And then,
thinking quickly, she added. “I want nothing more than to
congratulate the happy couple. I come bearing a wedding gift!”

As proof, she pulled two Iberia boarding
passes from her purse and flashed them in Ana María’s direction,
much too quickly for her to make out any details.

“After all, why honeymoon in Seville when
your very best friend on earth treats you to the romantic vacation
of a lifetime in Paris?”

Ana María’s expression softened. “Oh, how
lovely. What a very good friend you must be.”

“I only want what’s best for Jess,” Eve said,
nodding solemnly. “For Jess and Fernando.”

“Well, then, of course I’ll point you in the
direction of Seville. Better than that, I’ll have my driver take
you.”

Eve’s chest constricted at the thought of
being out on the desolate Iberian plains with the butcher of
Seville.

“Oh no, really. I wouldn’t trouble you—or
him.”

“It’s no trouble,” a gorgeous hunk said,
stepping from around the corner. “Hello,” he said with dark sexy
eyes and a knock-your-socks-off smile. “I’m Gustavo, and I’m free
for the afternoon.”

Eve swallowed her tongue and stopped herself
from asking what he was doing tonight.

“Gustavo is our darling Consuelo’s son, very
reliable and an excellent driver.”

“Well, if you insist,” Eve said, feeling as
if she were turning the color of a very ripe plum.

“Of course I insist,” Ana María said with a
kind smile. “But first, dear, please do come in, refresh yourself a
bit, and have a spot of tea.”

****

“Wait! Pull over. I think that’s them,” Eve
yelped, causing Gustavo to bring the elegant sedan to a halt on the
busy boulevard. Other drivers honked and shouted insults.

“Are you sure?” Gustavo asked.

Eve leaned out her window and shouted to the
blonde seated on a bench by the river. “Jess!” Her back was to
them, but she was with a man, a very handsome man. They were both
laughing and eating ice cream. “Jessica Bloom! Is that you?”

Jess swiveled her head in surprise as
Fernando turned to stare.

“That’s Fernando, all right,” Gustavo said,
steering their car onto the curb.

“Evie?” Jess asked in shock as Eve bolted
from the car.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Eve said, rushing to
her.

Jess stood uncertainly as Eve pulled her into
her arms.

“Evie,” Jess said in disbelief. “What are you
doing here?”

Gustavo approached at an even gait.

“Gustavo?” Fernando said sternly. “What’s
going on?”

“Your mother asked me to bring her to
Seville,” Gustavo said, indicating Eve.

“Fernando,” Jess said in wonderment. “This is
Eve Parker, my very best friend.”

“Evie!” Fernando said, stunning Eve by
sweeping her into his arms. “I told Jess to invite you to
visit!”

“You did?” Eve asked, taken aback.

“But I never imagined you’d act so fast!” He
gave her two swift pecks on the cheeks. “Ah yes, you’re just as
Jess described. Beautiful and capable.” In spite of herself, Eve
felt herself blush. “We’re so pleased you could come. Aren’t we,
Jessica?”

But Jess just stared at Eve slack-jawed.
Fernando undoubtedly was eye candy with that adorable smile and his
rock-hard six-pack. His formfitting polo did nothing to disguise
the phenomenal physique beneath it. Maybe he’d hypnotized Jess with
his undulating abs.

A siren blared, and the group turned to see a
police officer approaching.

“Maybe we should move the car off the curb?”
Gustavo suggested.

Jess sat in the backseat, unsure if she was
happy to see Evie or whether she was fuming. The truth was, Evie
showing up this way had completely caught her off guard. Fernando
had seemed to take it in stride, welcoming her good-naturedly to
their little gathering. Jess had caught only a glimpse of Gustavo
at the house once. She hadn’t observed how good-looking he was
until she’d seen him up close. She wondered if Evie had noticed,
then decided she didn’t particularly care. She was irritated with
Evie right now. Way irritated. She and Fernando had tickets to a
rare exhibit at the
Archivo General de Indias
tonight. There
was to be champagne and live music and the unveiling of some
“Discovery of the New World” documents not yet revealed to the
general public. Jess was living and breathing history here, and it
was exhilarating. She felt like an explorer, and Fernando Garcia de
la Vega was her sexy conquistador.