I laugh into my glass, partially out of amusement and partially out of embarrassment. I’m sure the heat that rises to my face must be evident, especially in the warm glow of the dining room. My avoiding eye-contact with Enrique must be even more apparent.
I haven’t completely forgotten how I threw myself at him last night. Not quite the begging he told me I’d do, but close enough.
Tonight, there’s almost as much wine flowing through my veins, but instead of the heady blur that leaves me sloppily giddy, I just feel…heated.
My eyes finally land on Enrique sitting across the table from me. The intensity with which he stares back is enough to shock me into temporary sobriety.
“I’ll take care of the dishes.”
I turn at the voice of Sebastián interjecting itself into the moment.
“Nonsense,” I protest. “You cooked for us. The least we can do is—”
“No, no,” he says, raising his hands up. “It is custom in this part of Spain for the host to do all the work. I would be offended if I made you help.”
I twist my lips into a smile. “I doubt that is true.”
He returns a teasing grin. “Then consider it my house rules.”
I laugh softly and dare to give Enrique a glance. His gaze is no less penetrating and dark as it was before. I swallow my laughter and finish the last of my wine.
“Thank you, Sebastián,” I say.
“Yes, thank you for dinner and your hospitality,” Enrique says, breaking that gaze to address his grandfather.
I use the momentary relief from his attention to wonder yet again why the two of them are playing this game, each pretending they don’t know who the other is.
I know for a fact that Enrique knows Sebastián is his grandfather.
Based on everything I’ve seen tonight, Sebastián knows that Enrique is his grandson.
So why avoid addressing it?
My curiosity fades as Enrique rises and stares down at me expectantly.
Why do I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter?
And why do I so violently wish to be slayed?
I rise and give one last, parting smile to Sebastián. His eyes dance as they dart between the two of us on either side of the table. Interestingly enough, any hint of self-consciousness is gone. It’s been completely consumed by the anticipation running through my body.
If I was hesitant before, I’m more sure than ever now.
Enrique rounds the table and takes my hand to lead us out of the dining room.
“Good night,” Sebastián says as we go.
We echo our parting goodnights and find the stairs.
“This place is amazing,” I say in awe, switching back to English as I stare at the large, heavy iron chandelier in the center of the double stairs running up the center of the house.
“It is,” Enrique says with just as much wonder, which makes me think he’s never been inside before.
At the top landing, I stop, forcing his attention on me.
“So why don’t you tell him who you are?”
I see the quick flash of surprise, then denial touch his eyes.
“Oh stop, Enrique. It’ so obvious. Us just happening to end up at this winery? The way you two are with each other,” I come in closer with a smile and tap his nose. “And you both have the same nose. The nose knows, my dear.”
He smirks and looks away.
“The question remains, why don’t you tell him?”
Instead of answering, he takes my hand and leads us in the direction Sebastián said the bedroom was. Once inside, I take a moment to explore it with my eyes.
I’d be surprised if this wasn’t the master bedroom, it’s so grand and magnificent. There’s a large poster bed to one side and two comfortable armchairs in front of a stone fireplace. I pull away from Enrique to head through the door that leads to the bathroom. After turning on the lights, I gasp at the huge tub set against a large round window that faces the vineyards that we trespassed through.
When I come back into the bedroom, Enrique is leaning against a wall staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You want to know why I don’t say anything? Because my father is still out there. I have no idea how long his reach is, what steps he’s still going through to find me and do the same to me that he did my mother. All it would take is the wrong person noticing something between us. Then my grandfather would be in danger as well. Perhaps even Sister Clara. This ends with me.”
I walk over and lean against him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He unfolds his and brings them around my shoulders to draw me in closer.
“And after tonight?”
He brings one hand up to push back a mass of hair from the side of my face. “I suppose a lot has changed after tonight.”
I feel a cool shudder roll through me, which is quickly evaporated by a ball of fire low in my abdomen.
“You don’t think I’ve been drinking too much?” I ask, coyly tilting my head.
A slow, easy smile curls his lips. “I think you’re perfectly aware of what you’re doing and what you want tonight.”
I bite my bottom lip, capturing the smile that wants to come.
“Now it’s my turn to ask a question,” he says.
“Yes, I want this,” I say, answering it before he can pose it.
His hand comes out, stroking my cheek and ending at my chin. He tilts it so I’m facing him. His thumb makes a slow trek across my bottom lip, and it trembles under his touch. When he replaces it with his lips, it’s the spark that causes the rest of me to nearly melt in his arms.
I taste the wine and flavors of the night on his breath and tongue. Some silent, but lyrical tune guides our movement. No wonder the Spanish are so well known for dance and music. The way Enrique leads me with just his mouth makes me feel like I’m floating
