Page 92 of Midnight Surrender to the Spaniard

Anna was here without agenda.

She had made no demands.

She stood in the crowd outside the church, simply to be there.

For him.

‘Walk with me,’ he said.

He saw her swallow.

‘Be with me today.’

‘Okay...’

Even if they never shared another kiss, another night, another anything, it was, she knew, the right thing to have done.

One night.

One week.

No regrets.

He was not a demonstrative man in public. There was no hand-holding or anything. To all and sundry she might well be a cousin by his side, but what mattered was that she wasthere...

‘Por qué está aquí?’his mother asked, and more from the tone than the words Anna knew Maria was asking what she was doing there.

Sebastián answered in English. ‘Nothing you would understand.’

It was his one slight dig—not that his mother noticed. But she would not—couldnot understand that Anna, no matter the difficulty, had done everything she could to be here for him.

She was beside him during the service, and then afterwards, back at the bodega. She had not expected to return here so soon—and certainly not under such sad circumstances.

‘I have to go and accept condolences,’ Sebastián explained. ‘Can we speak later?’

‘Just do what you have to do,’ Anna said.

On the stage there was a huge photo of José. The restaurant tables were pushed to one side and there were candles burning in the alcoves and beautiful flowers everywhere. Yet despite the stunning surroundings there was volatile edge to the mood, as if the black sherry barrels were kegs of gunpowder that at any moment might ignite.

Carmen was a mess, and Alejandro was pale and haggard—which was hardly surprising after the week he’d had. Maria looked fabulous and was graciously accepting condolences and fanning herself.

And then there was Sebastián.

He shook hands, smiled politely and said all the right things to the right people. Yet she could see the tension in his shoulders, the muscle leaping in his cheek. Even the tendons in his neck were tightly strung.

‘How’s it going?’ she asked, when finally he escaped and came over.

‘You really don’t want to know.’ He gave her a tight smile. ‘This will go on for ever. At least as long a Spanish wedding.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Just without the dancing.’

Then he looked right at her.

‘Can we talk?’

‘Of course.’

‘Not here.’ He pointed across the lavish courtyard. ‘My office maybe?’

‘Sure.’

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