How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview) (6 page)

****

Ana María
Garcia de la Vega pulled a tiny
garment
from
the
mahogany
hope chest at the foot of her
bed
.
The pure linen
christening gown had been hand-embroidered by her grandmother and
worn for generations. She gently strummed her fingertips across the
daintily stitched white flowers adorning the piece’s bodice. When
her daughter Margarita had worn it, Ana María hadn’t known she’d
have no future children to dress in this little frock. She and her
husband, Ernesto, had planned a large family.
“Six children at
least,”
he’d said, the setting sun warming his eyes. He’d taken
her in his arms and kissed her in a way that had melted her heart
and weakened her knees. While her mother had warned her of the
responsibilities
of a honeymoon, she’d never imagined she’d
enjoy taking to the task so much.

When Ernesto died at forty-nine, Ana María
had been just thirty-three. Fernando was eight and Margarita barely
four. There was time for one or two more, at least. But time ran
out on them far earlier than either of them intended. Ana María
cast a sad gaze to the window, watching as dusk settled over the
hacienda. She heard horses approaching from afar and knew it was
Fernando and Jessica returning from their ride. Even if Jessica was
experienced with horses, Fernando should have known better than to
take the chance. Ana María held the small gown to her chest,
realizing she’d never actually considered how it might feel to be a
grandmother. Jessica certainly was beautiful, and, if she worked in
Fernando’s business, obviously smart. But what of her family? Her
background?

The Garcia de la Vegas could trace their
ancestry back seven generations—on both sides. Americans weren’t
like that. Most of them were divorced and had no concept of family
beyond the immediate. Even many of the closest relatives remained
estranged, according to what Ana María had gathered from her
perusal of the papers and study of American media. But if Fernando
loved her… Ana María felt a lump in her throat. Who was she to deny
true love, if this was real? Her parents hadn’t exactly been
pleased she’d selected a matador as a groom. And yet they’d
eventually come around, blessing them both with a lavish wedding
and the gift of this ranch. Ana María had been raised here with her
two brothers, neither of whom had survived to adulthood. Life was
cruel that way, taking away the people you loved.

Ana María wiped her brow with the back of her
arm, scolding herself for becoming sentimental. Sentimentality was
a weakness reserved for those able to afford it. She carefully
folded the baptismal gown, tucking it back in its nest. Though
she’d never weighed it concretely, she knew Fernando would make a
marvelous father. There was a man who understood the value of
family and stuck by them. He’d been so good to her and to his
sister Margarita. Ana María couldn’t imagine him lavishing anything
but undying affection on the woman he’d picked as his bride, and
any offspring they produced.

Ana María heard the heavy door swing shut
downstairs and felt an instant wave of shame. Though she’d been
cordial enough at lunch, she hadn’t precisely proved the welcoming
mother-in-law
.
After all he’d done for her, who was she to
doubt Fernando’s judgment? But…an American from Brooklyn!
Ay.
Ana María sighed heavily and closed the hope chest,
securing it shut with its sculpted key. At least Fernando was
moving forward, she supposed. Margarita, in her fancy flat in
Barcelona, didn’t even have a boyfriend.

Fernando entered the foyer and dropped his
satchel with a petulant scowl, Jessica trailing in his wake.

“Did you have a nice time?” Ana María asked
as he breezed past her and headed for the study. Moments later, she
heard the clattering of Waterford crystal and knew he was pouring
himself a scotch from the family decanter. She and Jessica startled
as the study door snapped shut.

“I think I’m going to lie down,” Jessica
said, appearing a bit disheveled. Her hair was tousled from the
wind, her complexion lightly flushed. Her blue eyes were cloudy and
troubled.

“Are you all right?” Ana María inquired.

Jessica blinked, then stared at her, her
color deepening.

“It was just a bit of a ride.”

“I knew Fernando shouldn’t have—”

“No, please,” Jessica interrupted. “It’s
okay. It’s not that I’m sick or anything. Just tired.”

Ana María studied her sympathetically. “Of
course you are, dear.”

Jessica headed for the stairs with a
zombie-like gaze, then began her slow ascent.

“Can I bring you some tea?” Ana María asked.
“Decaffeinated?”

“Thanks, but no,” she said in a warbling
voice.

Now, Ana María had heard of lovers’ spats.
But it seemed a bit early in this brand-new marriage for them to be
developing problems already.

She considered talking to Fernando but then
thought better of it. Best to leave him alone and give him time to
sort things out. Whatever the cause, it was sure to be something
minor. The lovebirds would settle things by bedtime, if not
before.

Ana María’s gaze followed Jessica up the
stairs, a gentle melancholy taking hold.
Ah, to be young and in
love, like these two.
Ernesto may have been gone awhile, but it
wasn’t so long that Ana María had forgotten.

Dinner was a somber affair. Ana María sat at
the elegantly set table, staring at the two empty chairs beside
her. Though their places had been set, neither Fernando nor Jessica
had appeared for the meal. Fernando had claimed he wasn’t hungry,
and Jessica—feeling woozy—had petitioned to have a tray sent up to
her room. Whatever had transpired during their ride had clearly
driven a wedge between them. Then again, misunderstandings often
happened early in a marriage. Fernando and Jessica were just now
getting to know each other as husband and wife. This put them in a
different place than lovers. Once you’d bound yourselves to one
another for eternity, you started to view certain things
differently.

Ana María knew the young couple had many
details to work out, particularly with Jessica coming from the
United States. A sudden panic seized her. Surely, they weren’t
considering moving to America? What a disaster that would be.
Fernando in New York, a vast ocean in between them. And what of the
grandchild? Clearly, it would be best for him or her to be raised
here, on this beautiful hacienda with its stable of horses and the
freedom to roam the land. Of course, Jessica’s family would be
disappointed with her moving so far away. But it seemed she’d
already made that choice, didn’t it? Nobody married a Garcia de la
Vega without knowing what that meant. There was a weight of
responsibility, not just in maintaining the family name but also in
continuing its vein of philanthropy that had proved a boon to the
poorest regions of this country.

Ana María took a sip of wine, considering
what she might do to help. For one thing, she could make Fernando’s
new bride feel more welcome here. For another, she could ensure
that Jessica became so taken with La Esperanza del Corazón that she
would never want to leave.

There was a sharp knock at the door, followed
by Fernando’s husky request. “Jessica. A moment, please.”

Jess set down her fork, realizing her efforts
at eating were failing anyway. While the roast pork and potatoes in
a sherry glaze was delicious, she’d scarcely been able to swallow
two bites. Ever since the end of their ride and Fernando’s
pronouncement that he’d set her free, she’d been inexplicably
depressed. The fact that he’d refused to meet her eyes afterward
had only deepened that effect.

While he hadn’t said it so many words, it was
clear that Jessica had wounded him. Could he have really meant what
he’d said? That he’d developed actual feelings for her?

Jessica slid her tray back on the dresser top
and quickly adjusted her hair in the mirror.

“Come in!” she said, angling toward the
door.

He stepped into the room, appearing more
handsome than ever, despite his brooding expression. “I’ve only
come to get my things,” he said.

He was still angry with her. “Fernando,” she
said softly. “You do know we’re doing the right thing?”

“Which thing is that?” he asked with a flat
stare.

Jess felt her breath constrict as she doubted
the sincerity of her own words. “Going to Seville.”

He studied her with a mix of melancholy and
annoyance.

“I already told you I would not keep you
here.”

Jess’s words raced from her heart to her
mouth, bypassing her brain. She felt consumed by emotion, abandoned
yet again. In the light of the moon, she’d shared her dark history.
No one who’d professed to love her had ever stuck around. How could
she have imagined that Fernando was different? “But you promised…”
she began, pain etched in her voice.

“I know what I promised,” he said, pursing
his lips. “I said that I would never leave you. And I meant it.” He
paused for emphasis as Jess’s heart thumped against her chest.
“But, it seems to me that things have turned quite the other way
around. You’re the one running away.”

Jess’s face flashed hot as her tongue went
numb. Of course he was right, so what could she say?

Fernando crossed to the armoire and withdrew
a large feather pillow and a few blankets.

There was a tug in her heart telling her she
shouldn’t let him go. That she should insist he stay here so they
could talk things out. But to what end? So that she might fall back
into his sturdy arms and get swept into his bed?

“I’ll sleep in the study,” he said, turning
away. “Breakfast is at eight.”

****

Eve stretched an arm out from under the
covers and nabbed her cell phone off the nightstand. Who could be
calling at this ungodly hour?

“Hello?” she said groggily into the
mouthpiece.

“Evie, it’s me. Jess.”

Eve pushed herself upright into a sitting
position in her yellow polka-dot pajamas. “Jess, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s all good. I’m going to
fix it.”

“The marriage?”

“I talked to Fernando, and it’s all arranged.
He’ll take me to Seville tomorrow to get things annulled.”

“What day is it now?” Eve asked with a
yawn.

“Monday.”

Eve sleepily studied the numbers on the
nearby clock.

“Good God, Jess. It’s two a.m. here.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just…” Her voice
fell off in a whisper.

“Jess?”

There was no answer at first, and for a
moment, Eve feared she’d lost the connection.

“Jess, are you still there?”

“I’m here.” She sounded fragile and
exhausted.

“You don’t sound so hot.”

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“He kept you up all night—again?”

“Yes, but not like that. I had the worst
insomnia, Evie. The
worst.
As crazy as it seems, I’m feeling
all torn up about this, like maybe I’m not doing the right
thing.”

Eve blinked hard, switching on the light.
“You are talking crazy. Of course what you’re doing is right! You
made a whopper of a mistake, and you’re lucky it’s not too late to
have it undone.”

There was a pregnant pause on the line that
sent shivers racing down Eve’s spine.

“Jess,” Eve said, her breathing measured.
“Tell me you are not changing your mind?”

“No, of course not!” she shot back a little
too quickly. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Eve massaged her forehead, worried for her
best friend. Jess hadn’t just married a matador; she’d apparently
lost all sense of reason.

“What the name of that town where you are
again?”

“
La
Esperanza del Corazón.
Why?”

Because if Jess didn’t come to her senses
soon, Eve might just have to pull out her platinum credit card and
fly there. “Call me on Tuesday after everything’s taken care
of.”

“All right,” Jess responded weakly.

“Jess!” Eve said sternly. “You
are
going through with it?”

Jess opened the door to find Consuelo smiling
and holding a tray arranged with fresh flowers and coffee. “A
morning treat from Doña Ana María,” she said. “A little something
to get you started.”

“I thought breakfast was downstairs?” Jess
asked with surprise.

“Oh yes, it is,” Consuelo said, merrily
breezing past her to set the tray on the dresser. “This is just for
while you’re getting ready.”

Jess cinched the large cotton robe more
tightly around her waist. It had been supplied by Fernando on their
wedding night and was luxurious in its comfort.

She surveyed the silver coffee service and
accompanying basket brimming with homemade pastries, thinking there
was enough here to feed a family.

“You’re eating for two,” Consuelo quipped as
if reading her mind. “And don’t worry” she said heading for the
door. The coffee is decaffeinated.”

Jess poured herself a cup of coffee with
steamed milk and carried it to the seat by the window, its heavenly
aroma wafting upwards. The morning sun spread its warmth across the
landscape surrounding Casa de la Vega, encompassing its stark
beauty. Jess felt as if she’d been transported into a dream or
catapulted somehow back in time, to a place where life was simpler.
There couldn’t be any greater contrast to her busy life in New York
than the serenity of La Esperanza del Corazón.

She couldn’t help but wonder how things might
have played out if she and Fernando had had an actual courtship.
The chemistry between them as business colleagues had been brewing
beneath the surface for months. What might have happened if they’d
acted upon it sooner? Had even started dating and developed a
transatlantic relationship? There might have been ups and downs,
but ultimately, one of two things would have occurred. Either
things would have ended between them, which would have been the
most likely outcome, given Jess’s track record. Or, there was an
outside chance they might have fallen in love and
decided—thoughtfully and intelligently—to make the bond between
them permanent.