Page 38 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

Now he knew why.

It was Emily’s curves he wanted, her wild blonde curls in his fingers, and to know again the passion that smouldered untapped just beneath her uptight surface.

‘Let me help you...’ he offered, though really it was just to prolong their encounter.

But she refused his offer.

‘No, thank you,’ she responded with a tart edge—it clearly wasn’t his chivalry she wanted.

He was trying to be the sensible one, but he was starting to wonder why he was bothering when it seemed neither of them really wanted him to be.

Emily most certainly didn’t.

She sat bundled in a blanket in the middle of the vineyard and watched the sky turn a pale gold. It was rather a pale sunrise, compared to the violets and pinks of the sunset she’d witnessed before.

But she’d been with Alejandro then, Emily thought, and he made everything more beautiful, more vivid, somehow.

She kept telling herself to let it go. Only she was stuck in a loop, thinking of all the things he’d said that had made her laugh. His little teases and his easy acceptance of her...his sensual kisses and how he’d made her feel incredible when she was in his arms...

Enough!Emily decided as she packed up her equipment.

She was moving on from Alejandro Romero.

And that started today.

Flamenco Workshop... Flamenco for Beginners...

Alejandro had been right. It was everywhere. The shops even had flamenco shoes in baskets at the front, in red, purple, black... Turning them over, she saw there were nails banged into the heels and tips. Flamenco dresses ranged from a couple of euros up into the thousands.

Gosh, it was all so beautiful. There were even flamenco outfits for sale in the supermarkets.

It really was a way of life here.

And she wanted to taste it for herself.

If coming to Jerez was the bravest thing she had done in her life, then walking up the stone stairs and entering the doors of Eva’s flamenco studio came a very close second.

Emily was one burning blush as she stood there in front of the very glamorous Eva, who was clearly on her lunch break. She was lying on a chaise longue, eating a sliced-up apple, but she smiled warmly as Emily entered.

‘Hola...’

‘I saw you perform on Sunday night,’ Emily said in faltering Spanish. ‘And I heard there were flamenco lessons... I was wondering if you do individual classes.’ She couldn’t bear the thought of dancing in a group—imagining she’d make an utter fool of herself in front of the locals. ‘I mean, I’m...’

‘Claro que sí!’—‘Of course!’The woman smiled. ‘But it is more enjoyable, as well as cheaper, to be in a group. This is my busy time, though, and unfortunately I am booked up.’

‘That’s fine,’ Emily said. ‘Alejandro just mentioned...’

‘Alejandro sent you!’ Eva exclaimed, and clearly that changed everything. ‘Then of course I can make room for you.’

Her blush would not fade but Emily smiled at Eva’s kind eyes.

‘Come through. I’ll show you around.’

The studio was mirrored, with wooden floors and silk shawls hanging over dividers, and rows of flamenco shoes all neatly placed in a corner.

‘I really have no idea about flamenco,’ Emily admitted.

‘That is why you will take a beginners’ class. I have a group booking at two, so we have some time now. Perhaps...?’

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