How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview)

by Ginny Baird

  “Please,” she moaned, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “Fernando, stop!”

  He blew a hard breath, then gathered himself, nabbing his wallet off the nightstand.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, her head and heart crazed with emotion. She was leaving, and he was about to tell her to never return.

  “To settle our bill,” he said, halfway to the door.

  When he stepped into the hall, she called after him, her voice trembling. “I thought it wasn’t about the money.”

  He stopped in his tracks and stared her down. “Honestly,” he said, “I don’t know what it was about.”

  He pulled the door shut with a bang that sent her heart racing and the tears more furiously flowing down her face.

  She’d lost him now.

  It was done.

  Fernando watched Jessica climb into the cab where Eve was waiting, the shadows from Casa Garcia de la Vega looming large ahead. If he wanted an easy way out, he could blame the best friend. But Fernando knew in his heart that had Jessica truly wanted to stay, no amount of congenial history could have convinced her otherwise. Gustavo appeared at his side, Fernando’s best stallion at the ready.

  “You can always go after her,” Gustavo said.

  “I already did,” Fernando replied, stone-faced. He mounted his horse as the taxi started down the drive, Eve turning slightly to give him a guilty glance over her shoulder.

  “Yah!” he commanded, driving his steed forward and alongside the road that carried Jessica’s cab toward the airport. She pursed her lips and peered at him through the glass as he galloped faster. Stop the car, he wanted her to say. Anything to indicate they still stood a chance.

  He followed them past the grove of olive trees, then slowed his horse in the setting sun.

  Jessica turned away, her head dropping on Eve’s shoulder.

  Fernando swallowed past the burn in his throat and beat back the fire in his eyes.

  Then he urged his horse into a run and took off over the desert landscape. He would ride until neither he nor his steed could take any more. But Fernando knew he would never outrace the ache in his soul. It was a scar he’d be forced to wear, just like the one on his thigh. Some battles were worth fighting, and Fernando had never found a contest in which he hadn’t given it his all. Yet sometimes your opponent was tougher than you were, and—no matter how many skirmishes you won—you still wound up losing the war.

  Fernando rode faster, leaning into the Andalusian winds. Tomorrow was his thirty-first birthday, but apparently, nobody remembered but him.

  Eve pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to Jess, who was weeping on her shoulder. It was one of those quiet sort of cries, tears spilling silently as Jess gazed straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Eve felt all punched out inside, as if a million tiny fists were beating at her gut and heart. She’d done the right thing, she was sure of it. What sort of friend might she have been had she left Jess here all alone to fend for herself with a man who looked like him?

  Eve watched as Fernando quickened the pace of his horse and rode off into the sunset. If he’d really been sincere and not just trying to secure an inheritance, Jess’s timeline wouldn’t have mattered to him in the least. But he’d been unable to wait for her, had refused her point-blank. It was a miracle they’d gotten to the magistrate in time.

  Eve glanced at the thick express mail package still clutched in Jess’s hands. She’d held it on her lap since leaving Casa de la Vega, just gripping it there like some sort of lifeline between the reality of now and the hopeful imaginings of the past. Initially, the postmaster at the magistrate’s office had been unhelpful, stating if the package had come through at the start of the week, it had likely been processed and was already on its way to Madrid for final approval. It was only at Eve’s insistence that he’d dug through the large canvas carrier on stout wheels and managed to come up with the return address of La Esperanza del Corazón. The postmaster had required identification but then wasn’t sure who to hand the package to. “Give it to her,” Fernando had said coldly. “There’s nothing left in it for me.”

  When Jess had refused to take it, Eve had snatched it away, holding on to it until just now. Jess had accepted the parcel without a word and had just stared out the window at Fernando instead. Eve knew she must be disappointed to have met yet another man who wouldn’t stand by her, but best to learn that now than a continent’s move away and a few kids into the future.

  “I booked us a long layover in Madrid,” she said to Jess. “Fourteen hours. Plenty of time to clear out your apartment and spend a quick night.”

  Jess nodded numbly, staring down at the package. “I can’t even remember what I left at that place.”

  “Probably not too much important,” Eve answered. “But it’s good to check it out, just in case. Jess?” Eve said, giving her shoulder a tight hug. “Please say you don’t hate me?”

  Jess stared at her, stunned. “Oh, Evie,” she said with moist eyes. “I don’t hate you. Don’t hate you at all. I understand what you did and why you felt you had to do it. You didn’t come all the way over here for yourself. You did it for me.”

  Eve’s heart felt a little lighter. Maybe things would eventually get back to normal after all. Jess would put Fernando behind her and resume her life in Brooklyn. As time passed, she might even look back on this episode with the matador and thank Eve for coming to her rescue in Spain.

  “It’s only that…” Jess continued, her voice trailing off into melancholy.

  “What is it, Jess? What?”

  Jess set her chin a moment, focusing hard on something internal. When she turned to Eve again, her expression was drawn. “It’s only that I wonder if maybe I’m”—her lips trembled—“starting to hate myself.”

  “Oh, Jess, no. Don’t say that.” Eve drew Jess into her arms as the airport tower loomed near. “Don’t ever say that. Nobody could ever do anything but love you.”

  But by the way Jess crumbled in her embrace, it didn’t appear she believed it.

  “Fernando,” Ana María said. “Do you mind telling your mother what’s going on?”

  Fernando had just come in from a long ride and didn’t appear to be in the mood for talking.

  “I’ll tell you later,” he said, heading for the study.

  Ana María held out a hand to stop him. “You’ll tell me now.”

  He turned on her, his expression surly.

  Ana María pressed on, undaunted. “Your wife of one week gets in a cab bound for New York? I deserve to know.”

  His eyes were dark and stormy, like the sky before hard rain. “I need some time, Mamá.”

  “Fernando,” she said, raising her voice for emphasis. “She’s carrying your child, my grandbaby.”

  He met her with a hard, even stare. “There is no baby.”

  Ana María cupped her hand to her lips.

  “Never was,” he continued, his neck coloring. “I’m sorry that I lied to you.”

  Ana María stood there, dumbfounded. Fernando was stubborn, yes. Perhaps a little too used to getting his way. But never in his life had he lied to her. It took her a long while to form the words. “Why did you?” she asked quietly.

  Fernando ran a hand through his hair, appearing at a loss, then hung his head for a prolonged beat. He slowly raised his eyes to hers. “Because, Mamá, in a crazy sort of way, I wanted it all to be real. Me, Jessica, our future together, a family…” He shrugged and gave a halfhearted smile that wrenched her through and through. “I let my emotions get the better of me. And that’s something you taught me never to do.”

  Ana María reigned in her burgeoning tears, her heart breaking for her son. This wasn’t about his birthday or the inheritance or their ranch. Fernando had finally fallen for a woman, and she’d simply slipped away. “You must fight for her,” Ana María said.

  Fernando shook his head. “I fought as hard as I know how.” As he turned and walked away, Ana María heard him speak bitterly over hi
s shoulder. “I can’t convince a woman to love me who doesn’t. In fact, I wouldn’t even want to try.”

  ****

  Chapter Twelve

  Jessica lifted the manila file folder from the small business desk in the Madrid apartment. “It’s a good thing we stopped by here. I’d forgotten all about this.”

  Eve shot her a quizzical look.

  “It’s the contract, Evie. The acquisitions deal. It’s what I flew to Madrid for.”

  “Then the whole trip wasn’t a loss,” Evie tried to add brightly.

  “Right,” Jessica said, setting the file folder back down and sounding less than convinced. Jess turned and walked to the french doors opening onto a small balcony. “I don’t really blame him, you know. Fernando.”

  “Well, you certainly can’t blame yourself.” Jess glanced at her.

  “Or me!” Eve rushed to say. She thumbed her chest, squeaking weakly. “Really, Jess. Tell me you’re not blaming me?”

  “I’m old enough to make up my own mind,” she said, stepping outdoors.

  But was she really? Just think of the mess she’d made of things in less than eight days! Evie nabbed a pencil off the desk and twisted up her hair. Somebody had to be the grown-up here, and since it hadn’t been Jess, Eve had been forced to take the role. Surely, Jess would see that, once the dust settled and the emotional haze surrounding her cleared.

  Jess seemed to be leaning over the balcony railing, teetering toward the street below. She couldn’t possibly be despondent enough to toss herself over the edge. “Jess, don’t!” Eve cried, rushing forward and lunging for her waist.

  Jessica lost hold of the watering can she’d been gripping, and it clattered to the street. “Don’t what?” she asked with dismay. “Water the flowers? Good God, Evie. Someone could have been walking by down below.”

  Evie stared into the small window box weeping with bright, harmonious colors, and practically wanted to cry herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “I thought—”

  Jess set her hand on her hip and cocked her head sideways. “That what? I was going to jump?” Her blue gaze looked clear and reasonable, suddenly making Evie feel the fool and the youngest child in the place.

  Eve’s face burned hot as she ducked back inside. “You had to see it from my angle.”

  The realization hit Jess with a jolt. That was the issue, wasn’t it? She’d always seen things from someone else’s perspective. First, there was her mother who wanted her to go into banking. She was right, of course, because that was where the money was. And also, according to her mom, lots of single men. What her mother had failed to advise was that single didn’t always equal decent and that sometimes even the decent ones didn’t stick around.

  Then there was Evie, forever filled with good advice, helping her think things out when life got too crazy.

  “Jess? Are you all right?” Evie asked, peering at her from around the corner. First she thought Jess was a jumper, now she was homicidal?

  “What are you doing hiding in there?”

  “I just wanted to be sure that it’s safe to come out and play.”

  Jess studied Evie with a long sigh. “I’m not tossing you over for a new best friend anytime soon.”

  Eve swallowed hard and nodded. “Good, that’s very good to hear, you know.”

  “I would, however, probably like you a lot better if you could do me one favor.”

  “Anything, as long as you step away from that railing. Honestly, it looks kind of unsteady to me.”

  Jess stepped away from the wrought-iron grate and sat in an outdoor chair. “Why don’t you grab that bottle of red wine and a couple of glasses,” she said. “Then come back out here. There’s something I’d like to talk through with you.”

  Two empty wineglasses sat on the table between them as the sky lightened with daybreak.

  “I wish I could say we’d solved all the world’s problems,” Eve offered apologetically.

  “There’s no easy answer, is there?”

  “Oh, Jess,” Eve answered truthfully, “I don’t think there are ever any easy answers.”

  “But Evie, can’t you see? You’ve always told me what to do.”

  “Not this time,” Eve said, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jess, this isn’t some casual hookup you’re considering. You’re talking a decision that affects the rest of your life. Who better to make that than you?”

  “But you came all the way over here to stop me.”

  “No. I came all the way over here to see if you were still you. Someone had radically changed up my best friend, and it scared me silly.”

  “That someone being Fernando.”

  “Actually, I think that someone was you.”

  “Me?”

  Evie studied her sincerely. “Look, I’ve known you a long time. What’s it been?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  “There you have it. That’s longer than some marriages last!”

  “So?”

  “So, I’ve come to know you pretty well.” Evie studied Jess and thoughtfully stroked her chin. “Maybe I didn’t believe it in New York, but maybe that’s because I had to see it with my own eyes. I don’t know what precisely happened between you and Fernando, but it was obviously something that affected you both. Affected you, deeply. Christ! We wouldn’t have pulled an all-nighter on this balcony if that wasn’t the case. So now here you are, once again spilling your soul to me and asking me to put things right. Jess, I love you dearly. But, frankly, that’s way too much responsibility. I can’t even manage my hair most days.”

  Proving her point, she pulled the pencil from her hair, letting it spill in an unruly mass to her shoulders. They shared companionable laughter, after which Jess stated seriously, “Oh, Evie, what would I do without you?”

  “Live your life,” she answered. “A real grown-up life.”

  Jess picked up the empty wine bottle and traced its label, one very memorable vintage coming to mind. First, it was her mother, telling her what to do. Next, it was Evie, but mostly because Jess asked for it. Then there was Fernando, begging her to remain his bride. Had Jess wanted to stay merely because he’d asked her or because that was what she’d truly wanted to do?

  “A life where I make my own choices, you mean.”

  “Who better to make them than you?” Evie asked.

  “I don’t think it’s fair to ask me to pick which present to open first, Mamá. I wouldn’t want to appear to play favorites.”

  “But Fernando,” Ana María said lightly. “All of the gifts are from me.”

  “Not all of them,” Gustavo said, stepping onto the patio. Consuelo trailed him, carting a lovely homemade flan.

  Fernando grinned at the older woman. “Why, Consuelo, you’ve outdone yourself—again.”

  She giggled gratefully. “You’re favorite, señor, with hints of toasted almond.”

  “I have something for you too,” Gustavo said, as he pulled a wrapped bundle from behind his back.

  “You don’t mind?” Fernando asked his mother.

  “No, please…” she encouraged merrily.

  Fernando smiled, digging into the package.

  “Oh my…” he said, opening the broad folds of an elegant matador’s cape. “It’s terrific.”

  “Where did you get it?” Ana María asked, her face registering mild shock.

  “At the Plaza de Toros gift shop in Seville. It’s not quite as fine as the one your father used, but it’s a close replica.”

  Fernando stood to hug him soundly. “Thank you, Gustavo. I’ll have to take this out and give it a whirl.”

  “Not in the true sense, I hope,” Ana María said with a worried frown.

  “I think that’s it,” Jess said, latching her suitcase.

  “Good,” Eve said. “Our taxi will be here any minute.”

  Jess carefully perused the small luxury apartment, thinking there were many things she was
going to miss about coming here. Easy access to the city park and just a short stroll to the Prado. Plus, the numerous restaurants and produce vendors.

  “Madrid’s been a good assignment,” she told Eve as they stepped onto the sidewalk fanning the broad boulevard.

  “The next one may be even better. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get sent to Venice or something.”

  “I think I’ll steer clear of Venice in the summer.”

  “Some people!” Evie teased. “You’ve just become a big jet-setter and already you’re complaining about the perks.”

  But the main perk on Jess’s mind stood about six feet tall and had gorgeous green eyes. She’d never imagined during her initially maddening interactions with the Spaniard that she’d wind up falling in love with him. Wait one minute. Hold the phone. Did she just think love?

  “Ouch! Watch what you’re doing?”

  “Huh?”

  “Earth to Jessica Bloom,” Evie cried. “You just dropped your whopping suitcase on my foot!”

  “Oh my gosh, Evie!” Jess said, pulling it off. “I don’t know what I was thinking!”

  But clearly she did. She was thinking, mighty hard, about the fact that her heart had just tumbled down about one hundred thousand green grass hills. Over and over again.

  “Evie,” she said, feeling her face flush. “What day is it?”

  “June tenth. Why?”

  Jess glanced at the boarding pass in her hand, then waved it manically in the air.

  “June tenth? Are you serious?” she asked as the cab pulled up.

  “As serious as a heart attack, unless you’re about to have one for me. Which you look like you might do at any second.”

  Maybe her heart had stopped. It was kind of like getting hit upside the head, only being hit harder. The thing was, while it might have halted for a moment, it was beating briskly now. So rapidly she thought she’d faint from its overexertion. Jess didn’t need her mother to tell her or Evie to advise her or even Fernando to cajole her into something she already wanted to do. All Jess had to do was listen to that not-so-quiet inner voice that practically screamed at her not to get into that cab.