Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

sorry that I met you, no. Not sorry that things became intimate between us…”
    “And the wedding?”
    She stiffened beneath the blankets. “Don’t push it, Fernando.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
    Jess sat up, covering herself with the duvet. “Don’t you think we should get dressed? Your mother’s waiting.”
    Fernando pressed his palms together and sighed. From one moment to the next, he couldn’t tell if he stood a chance with this woman. Maybe he’d been a fool to believe one concentrated morning of loving would change her mind. “Fine. We’ll go down and eat. Do you still want to head into town later?”
    “Yes, I think we should. Don’t you?”
    “I actually wouldn’t have minded if you’d suggested another nap.”
    She picked up a pillow and swatted him playfully.
    “Ow! Watch where you aim that!”
    “Protecting something?” she asked with a wicked grin.
    Fernando might not totally understand her, but he knew her well enough to sense when she wanted more. “Yes, let me show it to you.”
    “Oh God, are you serious?”
    He rolled her onto her back, clambering on top of her. “I think there are too many blankets between us.”
    She threw them back with reckless abandon and grabbed his naked rear.
    “As long as we’re still married…” she said, tilting up her chin.
    “If ever I’ve seen a conflicted woman, it’s you,” he said, parting her knees.
    “Maybe I need further convincing.”
    “Hmm,” he said with a smile. “Is that what you Americans call this?”
    Then he lowered his head as Jess gripped the covers and begged him over and over again not to stop.

Chapter Seven

    Two hours later, and after a slightly embarrassing dinner during which Ana María sent repeated knowing— yet approving—looks at the newlyweds, Jess and Fernando were traveling up steep roads leading to the center of town. “This is breathtaking,” Jess said, absorbing the beauty of the tiny whitewashed village as they climbed heavenward. Fernando had told her that La Esperanza del Corazón was known as one of Los Pueblos Blancos in this southern region of Spain. Two things in particular made this place special: an old monastery and an ancient castle, both of which perched on the highest points in these hills.
    “I know it seemed different on Friday night. When we came to the church here, it was under the cloak of darkness.”
    “I seem to recall an awfully full moon,” she said, warmth caressing her cheeks.
    “Yes,” he said, taking her hand. She let him hold it, sensing a new comfort between them. While Fernando owned the sort of sports car meant to be driven at great speeds, she was glad he took his time navigating the hairpin turns of this precipitous trek.
    Big billowy clouds hovered above them, dotting a brilliant blue sky, as a small river snaked through the valley below.
    “I see Casa de la Vega!” Jess proclaimed, pointing at the roving vineyards beyond a river bend. “It’s fantastic. I had no idea of its scope until I saw it from up here.”
    “My grandfather bought quite a bit of land,” Fernando answered. “His dream was to start a vineyard. He made that dream a reality.”
    “Your mother runs it now?”
    “All on her own. I’m very proud of her.”
    “Fernando,” she asked suddenly. “What do you plan to do in your retirement?”
    “Well…” he said, drawing out the word. “According to the grand Garcia de la Vega family plan, I was to step down from running the business in Madrid and return to run things here.”
    “That’s why you were selling out to International Global Telecom.”
    “Exactly.”
    “But you also had to find a wife.”
    “Too true.”
    “So, if it hadn’t been me, it would have been someone else,” she said, growing indignant.
    “If it isn’t you, then it sadly will be someone else.” He glanced at her, a wry smile upon his lips. “But trust me when I say you are my absolute first choice.”
    Jessica thought about that all the way to the monastery. She didn’t really care who Fernando married, did she? If it wasn’t going to be her, it naturally would be someone else. Even if it weren’t for the inheritance, a man as attractive as Fernando was bound to get snapped up. Likely sooner than later, if he started flashing around that below-the-belt matador scar.

    When they arrived at the low brown building with a large wrought-iron gate, Fernando sprang from the car to circumvent it and open her door for her. Very few guys