“That’s very sweet,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Is it normal to be so forward in Ibiza?” I asked, pulling my hand back from his grip. He released it reluctantly.
“Yes,” Hugo laughed, inserting himself into the conversation and giving a warning look to the stranger who seemed intent on invading my space. “Spanish men are not known for subtlety.”
“Have some more liquid courage,” Chloe urged me, slipping my wine into my hand. I brought it to my lips, already feeling the effects. The stranger moved next to me, tapping his fingers on the bar once before the bartender raced to serve him. Chloe elbowed me in the side, making wide eyes at the service he commanded.
“Un chupito de whisky,” he said, watching as his drink was poured. He left it on the bar, turning his attention back to me and staring down at me.
Unnerving me with every second that passed.
“What are you so afraid of, mi princesa?” he asked, his eyes gleaming as his lips tipped up into a brilliant smile.
I huffed a quiet laugh, my own lips forming a hesitant smile to match his as an odd moment of intimacy passed between us. With his multicolored gaze bearing down on my own, it was impossible to deny that it felt like he saw me. That he saw everything that longed to break free from my carefully crafted persona of obedience and responsibility. “You,” I whispered. The admission echoed between us as my friends stilled at my side.
He tilted his head, something dark passing behind his eyes. Reaching down to take my hand in his, he tugged me away from the bar and toward the area where other people danced. "Baila conmigo a la luz de la luna," he said, his deep voice raising the hair on my arms as those sinful lips formed Spanish words so smoothly I nearly melted into a puddle at his feet.
"I don't understand," I said with an awkward smile, shaking my head as Chloe inserted herself and pried my wine glass from my hand while he guided me away.
My friends were traitors.
"Dance with me in the moonlight," he translated, pulling harder until I stumbled into his arms.
"I don't know how to dance like this," I admitted, glancing to the side at the women who rolled their hips and bodies to the smooth Spanish beat that pulsed through the air.
"I'll teach you, mi princesa," he said, dropping his voice low. His hands touched the back of my shoulders, giving me a little shake as he smiled. Rough fingertips trailed over the bare skin of my back to either side of my spine as his eyes held mine. I leaned into the touch, craving more despite myself, and he used the increase in the distance between us to move them to my hips. The pressure of his fingers guided them to the music, moving them in ways I'd have never considered possible.
My hands dug into his shoulders, clinging to him in the belief that I would fall on my face if not for his support. With a glance around, I worried what I must look like with him guiding me through the motions of dancing in a way the others did without hesitation. A few people around the space watched us in shock, only worsening the insecurity I felt. When I turned back to him, he touched his forehead to mine again. "Only me and the music," he whispered, winding my hips in a roll from side to side.
I moved as he guided, until the pressure of his fingers faded and I dared to try to move on my own. I might have looked like a monstrosity for all I knew, but he never let me feel it. Not with his skin beneath my hands, his eyes on mine, and his touch burning through me.
There was only him.
We continued to dance for a few songs, my body growing more comfortable with every song that passed, until sweat dripped down the back of my neck beneath the curtain of my hair. Tucking a strand behind my ear, he pulled away and drew me to the edge of the patio. Stairs at the edge led down to the beach, and I hesitated at the top.
Heels, even wedges, were new to me. Wearing them in sand didn't seem like a promising thought. I followed him down the steps anyway, pausing at the bottom to bend down and take them off so I didn't break my neck. He grinned, shaking his head before I could get the straps undone. He grabbed me around my thighs and lifted me off my feet to walk me to one of the daybeds set up in the sand. Squealing with nervous laughter, I stared down at him as he set me down gently.
"You're trouble," I teased, shaking my head at him.
He smiled that double edged sword of his as his face took on a dark glow that called to the worst parts of me. "Princesa, you have no idea."
My mother's warnings rang in my ears as I contemplated what she would have to say about the mystery man consuming my thoughts and tempting me to be reckless. "Does trouble have a name?"
"Rafe. What is mi princesa's name?" he asked, the smooth notes of his voice pulling me to smile.
"Will you call me it if I tell you?" I teased, laughing when he leaned in and touched a hand to my face.
"Would you want me to?" he returned quickly.
I bit my lip, shaking my head. I contemplated giving a fake name, anything to make it easier to walk away and never see him again when all this ended. "Isa," I said instead.
"Isa," he murmured, leaning in to run his nose up the side of mine. His lips touched mine briefly while he held my eyes, nothing but a delicate brush of his soft flesh on mine. "Eres mia."
He touched his mouth to mine again, more firmly, his mouth
