himself!”
“Hold that thought,” Maggie replied. “It’s the perfect mood for flamenco. That disdain has to be in your every step and turn.” The twins skipped over the sand toward the house, and Maggie envied them their light-hearted enthusiasm.
The housekeeper, Teresa Lopez, was barely five feet tall, slim as a reed, and her pinched features held a birdlike sharpness. She wore black as though she’d been born in it and was clearly accustomed to being obeyed. She met Maggie outside her room. “The maid’s job is to make your bed and straighten your belongings. You must cease doing her work for her.”
Maggie wasn’t certain how many servants worked in the house, but she’d never employed one. “I’m used to taking care of myself,” she replied. “Couldn’t you assign her some other tasks?”
Mrs. Lopez leaned closer. “Guests do not look after themselves in this house. Is that clear?”
Maggie paused to consider the fact she would soon be gone and reluctantly nodded. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your household routine.”
“Good.” She turned and walked away with a crisp military stride.
Santos had overlooked Mrs. Lopez when he’d described the household, but Maggie thought the woman should definitely be included in his warnings. Of course, he had not one kind word to say about Rafael Mondragon, and she’d chosen to disregard it. That was either an example of her usual streak of independence or one of the worst mistakes she’d ever made. She checked her watch and began counting the hours until she saw him again.
Chapter Six
Late that afternoon, Maggie nearly floated in her over-size bathtub, awash in jasmine-scented bubbles. Her earlier bravado had completely deserted her, and while she may have decided to push her own boundaries, Rafael Mondragon had to be the wrong target.
Whenever her sisters or friends had gushed over some new man, she’d offered coolly logical advice. She counseled restraint during the initial dazzle of an infatuation and preferred to take things slowly. She and Craig had first exchanged greetings in passing in the school halls and then gravitated to the same round table for lunch in the teachers’ lounge. The crowded room was noisy and had never provided a romantic interlude, but from the start she’d been drawn to Craig’s relaxed manner and gentle humor.
He was an attractive man, but as their friendship progressed, she’d felt ever more strongly that an important ingredient was missing. As in the past, she’d suspected she was the one lacking the vital element rather than Craig, and he’d said so in their last angry conversation.
Now Rafael had captured her attention as no man ever had, and while she would enjoy dancing with him, the question was how to behave when the music stopped. He couldn’t press her for more than she wished to give and risk alienating her father. But still, agreeing to go out with him had to have been a mistake in the first place. Maybe she should take the twins along, and Fox too, and everyone else she could find in the household willing to go.
She wiggled her toes. The bathroom’s dolphin fixtures were undoubtedly real gold. The walls were sea-foam green, as was her spacious bedroom. The twins shared the room next door. David Hyde-Fox slept somewhere down the hall, and she assumed Santos must have a room there too. Santos wouldn’t be pleased she’d accepted Rafael’s invitation, but she hadn’t seen him again that day, so perhaps he wouldn’t have to know. Then again, she wasn’t a teenager sneaking out to meet a boyfriend her parents had forbidden her to see, not that she’d ever done it.
She was also not so naïve as to believe Rafael’s motives were pure either. He admired her father and could be courting the whole family, for all she knew. She wondered what her grandmother and aunt thought of him. When neither of them had made her feel welcome, she imagined they must look right through Rafael without seeing
“Hold that thought,” Maggie replied. “It’s the perfect mood for flamenco. That disdain has to be in your every step and turn.” The twins skipped over the sand toward the house, and Maggie envied them their light-hearted enthusiasm.
The housekeeper, Teresa Lopez, was barely five feet tall, slim as a reed, and her pinched features held a birdlike sharpness. She wore black as though she’d been born in it and was clearly accustomed to being obeyed. She met Maggie outside her room. “The maid’s job is to make your bed and straighten your belongings. You must cease doing her work for her.”
Maggie wasn’t certain how many servants worked in the house, but she’d never employed one. “I’m used to taking care of myself,” she replied. “Couldn’t you assign her some other tasks?”
Mrs. Lopez leaned closer. “Guests do not look after themselves in this house. Is that clear?”
Maggie paused to consider the fact she would soon be gone and reluctantly nodded. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your household routine.”
“Good.” She turned and walked away with a crisp military stride.
Santos had overlooked Mrs. Lopez when he’d described the household, but Maggie thought the woman should definitely be included in his warnings. Of course, he had not one kind word to say about Rafael Mondragon, and she’d chosen to disregard it. That was either an example of her usual streak of independence or one of the worst mistakes she’d ever made. She checked her watch and began counting the hours until she saw him again.
Chapter Six
Late that afternoon, Maggie nearly floated in her over-size bathtub, awash in jasmine-scented bubbles. Her earlier bravado had completely deserted her, and while she may have decided to push her own boundaries, Rafael Mondragon had to be the wrong target.
Whenever her sisters or friends had gushed over some new man, she’d offered coolly logical advice. She counseled restraint during the initial dazzle of an infatuation and preferred to take things slowly. She and Craig had first exchanged greetings in passing in the school halls and then gravitated to the same round table for lunch in the teachers’ lounge. The crowded room was noisy and had never provided a romantic interlude, but from the start she’d been drawn to Craig’s relaxed manner and gentle humor.
He was an attractive man, but as their friendship progressed, she’d felt ever more strongly that an important ingredient was missing. As in the past, she’d suspected she was the one lacking the vital element rather than Craig, and he’d said so in their last angry conversation.
Now Rafael had captured her attention as no man ever had, and while she would enjoy dancing with him, the question was how to behave when the music stopped. He couldn’t press her for more than she wished to give and risk alienating her father. But still, agreeing to go out with him had to have been a mistake in the first place. Maybe she should take the twins along, and Fox too, and everyone else she could find in the household willing to go.
She wiggled her toes. The bathroom’s dolphin fixtures were undoubtedly real gold. The walls were sea-foam green, as was her spacious bedroom. The twins shared the room next door. David Hyde-Fox slept somewhere down the hall, and she assumed Santos must have a room there too. Santos wouldn’t be pleased she’d accepted Rafael’s invitation, but she hadn’t seen him again that day, so perhaps he wouldn’t have to know. Then again, she wasn’t a teenager sneaking out to meet a boyfriend her parents had forbidden her to see, not that she’d ever done it.
She was also not so naïve as to believe Rafael’s motives were pure either. He admired her father and could be courting the whole family, for all she knew. She wondered what her grandmother and aunt thought of him. When neither of them had made her feel welcome, she imagined they must look right through Rafael without seeing
Similar Books
