Page 12 of Midnight Surrender to the Spaniard

‘In pink?’

‘I knowthatword.’ He shot out a laugh. ‘Ugly pink.’

‘That’s not nice.’

‘It’s an actual shade,’ he informed her. ‘Anyway, that is Mariana!’

‘Ooh!’ Anna was intrigued that he had pointed out the main characters in Alejandro and Emily’s whirlwind love story, but soon he was being called away.

‘I have to go now.’ He took another pastry from her plate. ‘I’ll come and get you when it’s our turn to dance.’

He was so arrogant, clearing her plate when there was a full tapas bar behind him, but as it turned out she ended up being rather grateful, because the evening meal was huge.

Huge and long.

She was seated with Emily on one side of her and—with only Anna to represent Emily’s family, perhaps to add balance to the table—on the other side, the very sulky Carmen.

Anna attempted conversation. ‘I passed the equestrian centre yesterday.’

Carmen barely looked up.

‘I hear you like horse riding?’

‘I would hope so, given that it’s my profession.’

Anna gave up trying to get blood from a stone, and was grateful when the meal seemed to be over. But then, just when she thought it was finished, a team of waiters filed out, carrying more plates above their shoulders.

For a brief second, and actually by accident, she caught Sebastián’s eye and he smiled and mouthed,Told you.

Again her lips betrayed her and she smiled.

And so to the dancing...

Anna had not been looking forward to it. In fact, she’d been dreading it a little. But not any more. For now she found she was tense with anticipation.

As she watched the bride and groom dancing together, out of the corner of her eye she saw Sebastián approach. He stopped by her chair and offered his hand.

‘Anna?’

‘Thank you.’

She took his hand and stood, and of course then he released her, but that brief touch of his cool skin was their first real contact.

How could his hands be so cold on this hot night? She already knew he did not have a warm heart, but his fingers were like ice!

He reclaimed her hand again when they were on the dance floor and his other hand lightly held her waist. It was all very formal and polite—but the conversation, on the other hand, was not.

‘It’s a lovely wedding,’ Anna said.

‘Oh, please. Don’t tell me you’re a believer now?’

‘They seem happy.’

‘Even those babies registered their protest,’ he said as they twirled and spun about the floor.

She thought of him arching his neck in the church—looking heavenwards for the strength to endure it, perhaps.

‘My father lets children run up and down the aisles during the service,’ she said, then added, ‘He’s a vicar.’

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