Page 19 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

‘Come on—try and remember.’

‘Four...?’ She grimaced as she guessed.

‘There’s no four.’ He gave her a look, a very deep and serious look that made her think, were he a doctor, she’d be terrified of his verdict. But in the periphery of her vision she could see his lips tilt slightly in a smile. And they weren’t so pale now...they were a dark and very beautiful pink.

‘Think,’those gorgeous lips said.

‘Five?’

‘Jesus!’ He laughed. ‘You really have no short-term memory.’

‘Not when—’ She stopped, deciding it would be foolish, at best, to tell him her lack of focus was entirely due to the scent in her nostrils and the absolute concentration it was taking to keep her hands at her sides, rather than...

Rather than what?

She didn’t even want to examine that question—not with him so close.

It was a question to ponder later—only he still seemed in no rush to go, and he lounged against the iron gates and carried on talking.

‘If you want to take flamenco lessons,’ Alejandro said, ‘Eva would be a good teacher for you.’

‘Lessons?’ Emily let out a nervous laugh. ‘Gosh, no.’

It had never entered her head. Only Alejandro didn’t join in with her smile or her burst of laughter.

It was, she realised, an actual suggestion.

He had no idea what a klutz she was.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You might like it. And as well as that...’

Alejandro paused. He had been about to say that he would love to see her practising, for Eva brought her pupils over to the courtyard or thetabernasome evenings...

How he would love to see her ripe body move...

He held back.

This was an odd situation for Alejandro. Not so much the walking up the steps with a beautiful woman he’d met at thetaberna. More that she would be turning left and he would be turning right, going through the gates to his own residence.

‘As well as that...?’ Emily checked.

Her blue eyes met his, yet he could not read her, and Alejandro was most unused to that. There was an energy between them—so much so that when he’d seen the staff and patrons looking their way he’d rather abruptly ended the night.

At least, he’d ended it for public consumption.

But now they were alone, and she was unreadable, only a little bold, and there was a certain reticence to her as if she did not know how to conclude the night.

Usually it would be with a kiss.

Usually, with an attraction so palpable, they would be tearing at each other’s clothes by now.

But, he reminded himself, she was to be working here, and that might make things messy.

More than that, he still could not quite read those bright blue eyes.

And so he didn’t tell her what he’d been about to say and went for the safer option instead. ‘It might help you get a feel for the place. Flamenco is a way of life here.’

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