Page 9 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

He should go over and introduce himself, but he could not be bothered to make polite conversation tonight. Anyway, she looked miserable. She had now given up chasing reluctant olives, and looked as if she was about to leave just as the main act came on!

God, maybe he should have listened to Sebastián and used someone tried and trusted rather than go for the fresh slant recommended by Sophia...

But then she looked up.

Not at him.

She looked up to the stage.

He knew from the stamping, from the shouts of approval and from the dimming lights, that Eva was about to perform, and that she would be standing poised on the now-dark stage, but still he did not turn around.

Alejandro watched Ms Jacobs instead.

And he knew then that his much opposed decision to bring in an outsider had been the right one.

He watched as her expression shifted from weary to alert...how she sat up straighter in the hard wooden seat as the stage lights lifted and she witnessed for the first time true flamenco.

Her food was forgotten, her eyes wide and fixed on the dancer, her mouth open just a little. Her white shirt strained a little across the bust, and yet somehow her very plain outfit was subtly beautiful.

Shewas beautiful.

Gone was the slouch and the attempt to fade into the surroundings.

There was now an expression of rapture on her face that perhaps should have him turning to the stage and watching the performance.

Alejandro simply preferred watching her...

It was as close to magic as Emily had ever seen.

Her rushed journey to Jerez had proved incredibly long. There had been no Sophia nor her husband to greet her at Jerez Airport—just a man holding a sign bearing her name, who’d offered Sophia’s apologies and given her an envelope.

The note had said that Sophia would catch up with her for breakfast tomorrow, but tonight she’d suggested Emily dine at thetabernaand get a feel for the place. Also that Eva was performing.

Emily had had no idea what that meant.

She would by far have preferred to sit alone in the thankfully vacant housekeeper’s apartment that she’d been shown to rather than venture out, but it would be for work.

More than that.

She’d been hungry.

As well as that, this was her new career—her long-awaited adventure. And so, before she’d changed her mind, she’d headed down to thetaberna.

She’d asked for a table for one and then, a little overwhelmed by the menu, at the waitress’s suggestion had ordered a selection of tapas.

A rather delicate selection had arrived, which hadn’t quite matched her ravenous appetite.

There’d been a few guys quietly strumming guitars on stage, and the atmosphere had been friendly, but sitting alone eating dishes best shared she’d felt awkward and exposed.

Emily had just given up on the tapas and had been reaching for her camera, ready to leave...when the magic had started to happen.

The stage had gone dark and Emily had looked up as the noisy venue had hushed. Either her eyes had become accustomed to it, or it was a trick of the lighting, but she could just make out the silhouette of a woman, centre stage, one arm raised above her head. And as the lights lifted Emily saw the woman’s other arm moving slowly, making gentle waves, as if with a life of its own.

This must be Eva, she quickly realised. The performer Sophia had suggested she come to thetabernato watch.

Eva was stunning.

Her black curls were pinned up, her make-up dramatic and her neck taut and slender. Her dress was the same vibrant yellow as rape fields in summer, the fabric not unlike flowers moving in the wind. Emily sat high on her seat to get a better look, utterly transfixed as Eva commenced a slow, sensual dance.

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