How to Marry a Matador (Exclusive Sneak Preview)

by Ginny Baird

  The taxi driver reached for her bag, but she pulled it back.

  Evie raised her brow. “He just wants to put it in the trunk for you.”

  “I know,” Jess said quickly. “But I think I’ll need it.” And she was going to need a lot more. Her whole wardrobe, in fact. Plus, there were other things in Brooklyn. Perhaps Evie could send them, or maybe she and Fernando could fly back for the move. Move! Jess was moving to Spain!

  She stared at Evie with urgency. “Do you still have that express mail package?”

  “You’ve got it. In the large duffle. Remember?”

  Yes, it was all coming back in a whirl. She’d kept it completely intact, not bearing to break its seal. “Oh, right.”

  Jess unzipped her carry-on, telling the cabbie they’d just be a minute. “Here,” she said, shoving the merger paperwork at Evie. “Do be a dear and drop this off at my office.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” Evie asked, stunned.

  “I can’t. I’m still married…in the eyes of the church.”

  Fernando crossed himself devoutly, then stood from where he’d knelt before his father’s portrait in the study. He was fully dressed for battle for the first time in a decade, and he thrilled at the rapidity of his pulse coursing through his veins. To an outsider, this walk down memory lane may have seemed frivolous, but to Fernando it was deadly important.

  He had failed—and failed badly—at the first real thing in his life, capturing the heart of the lady he loved. That had made him feel more than inadequate; in many ways, it had left him believing he was less than a man. The cape had been the perfect gift. Gustavo knew him so well. While Fernando didn’t intend to return to the corrida, he still needed to prove something to himself. He needed to climb back in the ring and face the beast, most especially the raging animal that scraped about angrily inside of him.

  Fernando had left bullfighting for the love of a woman and now was forced to return for similar reasons. While he’d forgone uncertain dangers in deference to his mother, he needed to confront them now out of respect for himself. If he didn’t, Jessica’s memory would crush him for eternity. Fernando needed to prove himself stronger than that.

  Fernando scooped up the cape and held it in his broad hand, slicing it expertly through the air.

  “Going out?” Gustavo asked, appearing in the doorway.

  “I thought I would.”

  “Then, I’ll come and serve as your second.”

  A matador always needed a watchman, especially in practice sessions as precarious as this one, where there were no medical personnel on site and the nearest hospital was more than ninety kilometers away.

  “You’re a good friend, Gustavo,” Fernando said.

  “Your mother would disagree. She’s very put out with me for planting the idea in your head.”

  “You may have planted, amigo. But, the seeds had already been sown. I would have been driven to this, regardless.”

  Gustavo didn’t argue because he knew it was true. He stared down at Fernando’s empty hand. “Where’s your sword?”

  “This is a test of skill today, nothing more,” he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m not in it for the kill.”

  “You might not be,” Gustavo answered. “But what about him?”

  “They’ve gone, señora,” Consuelo said. “You asked me to advise you.”

  Ana María sat staring straight ahead and sipping her sherry. She was on a bench in her rose garden, one of the places she loved best. “Did Gustavo tell you which bull?”

  “I’m not quite sure.” But by the way Consuelo averted her eyes, Ana María guessed that she knew. It was Alejandro, the most dangerous beast in the lot. They couldn’t even let him around the horses. The ranch hands all rumored Alejandro to be a little crazy. At one time, he’d been primed for the ring before being deemed too unpredictable. Ana María knew she should have sold Alejandro off long ago but had never quite had the heart. He would be put down immediately anywhere else. At least here he had some sort of life, as long as they kept him fairly well segregated.

  “Shall I serve a late dinner?” Consuelo asked.

  “No. Make it on time. I’m certain Fernando won’t be gone long.”

  But, deep in her heart, Ana María feared she was losing him forever. Perhaps it was an irrational fear or—worse yet—a mother’s intuition. She hadn’t dared to see Fernando off, afraid of inviting bad luck. Best to sit here and enjoy her garden, thinking only of happy things on this sunny afternoon.

  “As you wish,” Consuelo said, taking her leave.

  “Consuelo?” Ana María said, stopping her. “What did you think of the girl?”

  Consuelo pursed her lips in thought. “She was very beautiful.”

  “I meant, what did you think of her for Fernando?”

  “It’s not my place, Doña Ana María.”

  “It is if I’m asking you.”

  Consuelo perused her frankly. “In that case, I thought she was good for Fernando. And that he was good for her. They were two very strong people, even stronger together, it seemed.”

  “Thank you, Consuelo. I value your opinion.”

  “It’s sad it no longer matters.”

  “I’m sorry for Fernando that she’s gone too. He’s taken this really hard. But he’ll bounce back. He’s a de la Vega after all,” she said with a reserved smile.

  ****

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jess couldn’t have been any more excited had it been her own birthday. The moment she’d made the connection between Fernando and today’s date, she’d viewed it as more than just a sign. Her leaving Iberia the day her new husband turned thirty-one clearly wasn’t the way to behave. Apart from their elopement and glorious wedding night, it was the first true celebration the two of them would get to share. Jess had many gifts in store for Fernando, not the least of which she hoped to deliver in bed.

  Her face heated at the memory of Fernando’s flesh pressed to hers. There was a matrimonial union she could get used to, and not just because Fernando was the most skilled lover she’d ever had. He was also funny and kind, thought the world of his family, and had promised utter devotion to her. Surely it hadn’t been long enough since he’d sincerely said his vows that Fernando had changed his mind.

  “Casa Garcia de la Vega,” she told the driver as she climbed into the cab at the small satellite airport. “And hurry, please.”

  Jess’s heart raced at the thought of seeing him. Would he reject her at once, still scorned from her earlier rebuke, or accept her with open arms, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her up to his bed? No, he probably wouldn’t do that straightaway, Jess realized. His mother most likely had a party planned. There’d be gifts to open and cake. And, if Consuelo had any say in it, a lavish birthday dinner besides. Jess checked her cell for the time as the sun sank low.

  It was a special smart phone Fernando had given her in Seville during their first night there. Since her other hadn’t worked in La Esperanza del Corazón, he’d presented her with this high-tech replacement that received service in any locale, even in the most remote regions of Africa. He’d programmed in just one number, his, and had promised to transfer her address book over once they’d returned to the ranch. But with Evie’s unexpected arrival and Jess’s rushed departure from town, the data transfer had never taken place.

  Jess’s thumb hovered over the single entry in her address book. Maybe she should call him now to say she was on the way. That would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it? Give him a bit of warning. Jess considered her alternatives, weighing the fact that if she caught Fernando in an off mood, he just might get on his horse and decide to go on an eternal ride. If he was angry still and there was going to be some sort of showdown, best to have it occur first thing. Get it done with, so their happily ever after could begin. And it would start too. That was, if Jess had anything to do with it, which she most certainly intended to.

  Jess surveyed the landscape of flowing sunfl
ower fields and twisted almond groves, grasping the fact that this was her new home. It was a place she would grow to love, because it was a place she had selected. All her life, Jess had been told what to do, advised on the course which suited her best. Now, she had decided for herself to take this brave, untraveled path—and see where it led. She was over the moon at the thought of sharing it with Fernando, the sexy Spaniard who’d vowed to love and protect her, and to whom she wished to give her heart.

  What this meant for her job, she wasn’t sure, but she trusted Fernando would be supportive as she worked things out. Perhaps she could make an arrangement with her existing company, or maybe she’d be adventuresome and branch out, starting a new endeavor of her own. Whatever she would do, Jess would ensure the career choice was hers. Something that called to her and to which she could contribute. Something that made her proud of her efforts and tired with satisfaction at the end of each day.

  They came to the turn in the drive to Casa Garcia de la Vega, which loomed large in its splendor before them. Jess realized with a smile that for most of her life she’d been running away. Suddenly, here she was in Spain, galloping ahead. If she could move any faster, she would. Oh, to see Fernando and tell him all that was in her heart and head. Jess was bursting with the moment as she leapt from the cab, nearly forgetting to pay the driver. He thanked her with a tip of his cap and left her standing on the large stone steps with her luggage.

  Before this day ended, Jess’s new life would begin.

  Fernando stood in the ring, facing off, eye to eye, with Alejandro. The animal stood five feet at the shoulder, a mixture of muscle and menace. Fernando had never really known what had provoked Alejandro’s ire, but he’d been ornery since the day he was born. When he’d been rejected as a candidate for the corrida, Ana María had next thought to place him in Pamplona. But the officials there investigated Alejandro’s unsavory history with horses and had deemed him a bad risk for marauding tourists hoping to best the bulls during the July street fest. So he’d stayed on the ranch, his temperament worsening with age. He was now in the prime of his life, fiercely fit and unruly. Fernando lowered his cape as the beast scraped the dirt with his hoof. Then with a swish, he twirled the cape sideways as Alejandro tore by, barely breezing past Fernando’s right side. Fernando turned on his heels, once more beckoning the bull. Each paso was perfect, his feet keeping rhythm with his body and expertly marking the tempo of the fluttering red cape.

  A noise erupted in Fernando’s ears, the sweet cacophony of the crowd urging him on. “¡Olé!” Fernando shouted as Alejandro passed him by yet again, this time on his left. Theirs was an intricate dance, a ballet, really, and Fernando delighted in his practiced control—each muscle primed and ready. This was the life he was born to. He loved the corrida and couldn’t deny it. Every ounce of his soul keened in the wind as he scarcely missed the deadly horns. Fernando buckled as Alejandro swept by once more, skillfully avoiding danger. He’d been gored once and didn’t long to repeat it. His whole life had flashed in one instant at the tender age of twenty-three. He saw Gustavo sitting on the fence, strong arms steadying his position on the railing. It had been Gustavo, nine years ago, who’d pulled him from near-certain death. ¡Olé!

  Fernando felt his sweat building, steaming his temples. ¡Olé!

  While he was not as young as he’d once been, he still had the stamina of teenagers half his age. Hadn’t he proved that time and again with Jessica? In thinking of her, he spied a heavenly image. The love of his life racing toward him. No, a mirage. Had to be. So then why did she smile sweetly and call out his name? And Gustavo, rushing to her, begging her to quell her eager cries…

  Fernando turned toward the bull, seconds too late, to find Alejandro nearly upon him. Jessica’s eyes flashed with terror as Gustavo lunged forward.

  “Fernando!” she called in a voice shrill with panic. The thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud of menacing hoofbeats thundered near. Alejandro lowered his head, positioned for a death thrust. He was angry and tired of these human creatures that continued to torment him.

  Jess stopped short, caught in Gustavo’s quick embrace. “Leave it,” he said, his tone terse.

  But how could she leave what she witnessed happening before her? Fernando was about to get gored by a bull, most certainly on account of her! She’d distracted him at a critical moment, leaving him limited time to react. Oh my God, not now! Not her dear Fernando. Tears burned hot down Jess’s checks as Fernando turned on the bull, confronting him head-on. What impressed Jess most was Fernando’s calm. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t back away. Just stood there, poised and ready. Seconds ticked by like hours as the bull advanced.

  And then, without warning, Fernando lunged forward, seizing the enormous beast by his horns. In a flash, Fernando flipped over him, landing hard with one shoulder to the animal’s back and then crashing in a heap to the ground.

  Gustavo released Jess and raced into the ring, swinging open its gate and coaxing the bull outside. He bolted back toward Fernando, panting, to find Jess hopelessly wailing at his side.

  ****

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jess sat in the beautifully designed living area, not daring to meet Señora Garcia de la Vega’s eyes. She blamed Jess, of course. The accident never would have happened without Jess’s unexpected arrival and invasion on the scene. Gustavo had assisted in getting Fernando upstairs, and the doctor had been with them for over an hour. Jess wanted to pray but wasn’t sure it would count. She wasn’t exactly in with the Holy Savior, and the one here went through the pope besides. Jess wouldn’t know where to begin other than to suggest lighting candles. That sounded right and was something they always did in movies.

  “Would it help if we lit some candles?” she lamely asked Fernando’s mom.

  Ana María’s charcoal gaze fell on hers. “The electricity works just fine.”

  “Right,” Jess said, pressing her knees together firmly. She’d worn a short dress, one she’d thought was sexy. The fashion change-up had been impromptu and had occurred once Evie had taken her leave. After Jess declared she wasn’t going back to New York, Eve initially hadn’t understood her reservation about sharing the taxi. “Well, you’ve got to get back to the airport, haven’t you?” was all Evie had asked. The truth was, Jess did need to get to the airport. But first she had a few essential items to take care of, like stopping by the main post office and changing into an outfit that would sweep a matador off his feet.

  Jess sucked in a breath, realizing she’d done more than that. She’d landed him facedown in the dirt. If Fernando were hurt in any substantial way, she’d never forgive herself, or her designer mini either. Fernando had always been fond of her legs. Perhaps their full revelation at such a critical moment had proved disastrous. No, Jess couldn’t take full credit for that. It wasn’t really her fault Fernando had gotten hurt, was it? And he couldn’t be hurt in any horrible way if he’d been able to let Gustavo help him up the stairs.

  The doctor appeared, traipsing down the steps, a limp stethoscope strung around his neck.

  Ana María stood tensely.

  “He wants to see you,” the old man said, staring straight at Jess.

  A wellspring of hope arose in her heart. “He’s all right?” Jess asked.

  “A little sore, but yes, he’ll live.”

  “Thank God,” Ana María said, sinking back in her chair.

  Jess stood and straightened her skirt, hoping she still looked all right. It had been one hell of an afternoon, and she still had to ensure that she and Fernando would have one hell of a night.

  “How bad are his injuries?” she tactfully asked the doctor.

  “Probably best if you talk to him yourself,” the doctor said.

  Jess crept up the steps, unsure of what she might find. Would Fernando be furious at her for causing him pain or merely delusional from his bump on the head? At the very least, he had to have a mild concussion. Jess dug into her inner resources, pressing herself forward. She was
a stronger person than she’d ever been. A person who now totally realized she loved and deserved Fernando. Just because she’d nearly gotten him killed that didn’t mean they couldn’t work past any differences. She hadn’t done it on purpose, after all.

  Jess paused a moment before the shut bedroom door. So many wonderful things had occurred in there and would many times again, if Fernando would only let Jess put her mind to it. She rapped lightly and waited a beat until Gustavo answered.

  “Come in!” Gustavo called as she creaked the door open.

  Gustavo stood from the chair where he’d sat at Fernando’s bedside.

  Fernando lay motionless in the big king-size bed. Given his typically olive complexion, he appeared much lighter to Jess --pallid even-- and she saw this as a dire sign. What if he was worse than the doc had let on? What if he wouldn't fully recover? “The doctor said—” she began.

  “It’s true,” Gustavo agreed. “He wants to see you.”

  How that could be, considering he had his eyes tightly shut, Jess wasn’t sure. Yet she clearly wasn’t armed to argue. Maybe she could bring him back around. Yes, that’s what Fernando needed. A little Florence Nightingaling.

  “He’s just resting,” Gustavo assured her. “Why don’t you sit with him awhile?”

  Jess nodded and made her way to the bedside as Gustavo slipped from the room.

  Silently, she took her seat, mentally kicking herself for every ounce of anguish she’d ever caused her loving husband. He was glorious and strong and brave…and…argh! Something reached out and grabbed for her hand. Reason dawned quickly telling her it was Fernando, appearing suddenly in the pink of health.