Save the Last Dance

by Jami Davenport

  Another beautiful day presented itself with blue skies and a warm sun. Water rippled across Cascade Bay below them. Across the bay stood the stately Moran mansion, built almost a century ago. The mansion and surrounding estate, known as Rosario, had been a resort for decades. Tonight, she’d dine at the mansion with Rodrigo. Until then, thoughts of him spiced up her daydreams and dominated her worries.

  Taking a calming breath, she studied Eva. Her friend claimed to be from gypsy and Native American descent, insisting her given name was Evening Dawn. Her flamboyant style and exotic appearance supported her story. Mariah suspected her sable hair and blue eyes were compliments of synthetics rather than genetics.

  Eva lived by two creeds: the more makeup, the better; and a woman can never wear too much jewelry. She danced to her own fabricated drummer. Rumors circulated among the island locals regarding her previous life as a CEO for a successful computer software firm in Seattle. Eva vehemently denied any past involvement with the corporate world. Mariah suspected the CEO rumor was the one actual fact in Eva’s past, and despite Eva’s denouncement of material goods, she most likely had a hefty nest egg hidden off-shore somewhere.

  Eva looked up, and studied Mariah in silence for quite some time before speaking. “You’ve met a man, a sexy Latin man.”

  Mariah hated it when Eva took on that ‘I see all’ persona, but she kept her mouth shut. “You’ve been talking to Nancy or Linda.”

  Eva bristled at Mariah’s lack of faith in her clairvoyant abilities. “He’s not just any man. Is he?”

  “No, he’s not. He’s different.”

  “Yes, he is.” Eva steepled her fingers and looked beyond Mariah, as if seeing something no one else could see.

  Mariah stifled the urge to roll her eyes. She admired her friend’s acting ability. Eva played the psychic part well. At times, Mariah almost believed her.

  “How do you know?” Skepticism crept into her voice.

  “I know.” Eva spoke with calm assurance. “As surely as I know Warren wasn’t right for you. He destroyed your creativity. He wanted to possess you, control you. He didn’t want you to grow. He smothered you.”

  “And this man?” Mariah played along. Once you waded through the mystical garbage, Eva occasionally offered good insights.

  Eva considered the question for a long time. “People come into our lives when we are most ready to learn what they have to teach us. This man has the power to fulfill your dreams. He also has the power to hurt you more deeply than anyone in your life. He won’t do it on purpose. His intentions are good, but he isn’t capable of giving you everything you need at this time.”

  Totally made sense. “I think he’s dangerous. To me.”

  “He can be to your heart. We all have choices, Mariah. There is one person on this earth that you were meant to be with. This person has the power to damage you more than anyone else. He also has the power to love you more than anyone else. He will make his choices, and you will make yours. That is the part I cannot predict.”

  Mariah smiled. She was letting her friend’s mystic BS affect her too deeply. Besides, she recalled a similar conversation regarding the recently departed, one-date Mike.

  “I just met him. We’re going to dinner tonight. That’s hardly enough time to declare our undying love for each other.”

  “Think what you want, Rye. Your heart knows the truth of what I’m saying.”

  “He does consume my thoughts, which is annoying.”

  “Did you sleep with him?

  “No, of course not.” Mariah bristled, feeling as prickly as a cactus on a cold, desert night.

  “Why not? If you’re so attracted to him, what’s the concern?” Eva turned over a Tarot card and studied it. “Hmmm…”

  “You know I can’t do that. I met him yesterday. Besides, he’s only visiting; he won’t be here long.”

  “Release your inner child. Let go for once. Rye, don’t let fear block this opportunity for personal and spiritual growth. Have a fling. It is your fate. You owe it to your true self.”

  “I owe it to my true self not to get involved with a man like that.”

  Eve raised one dark brow and pursed her deep red lips. “When you’re old and drawing your last breath, what will you regret the most, the things you did or the things you didn’t do?”

  Mariah hated it when Eva was right.

  * * *

  The phone startled Rico from a deep sleep, interrupting an almost-wet dream involving his delectable neighbor. They’d been on the beach, the surf rolling in and out over their damp skin. Her body writhed underneath him. Her voice alternated between moaning and screaming. And those long legs of hers. If she’d wrap those legs around him like that just once, he’d die a happy man. Then there were those emerald eyes. They penetrated right through his defenses. They saw him, the real him, and sent him to places this man hadn’t gone before.

  The phone rang again, rudely reminding him once more to beam back down to the planet.

  He jabbed at the Answer button and held his iPhone up to his ear. “Hola.”

  “Rico, how are you?”

  “Great, Angel.” Rico stretched and tucked the phone under his chin. He linked his hands behind his head and sprawled out on the lounge chair in the warm sun. At twenty-eight his sister, Angelina, was four years younger than him. Yet, she insisted on mothering him.

  “I hadn’t heard from you. I wanted to make sure one of those Northwest monsters hadn’t taken off with you.”

  “They have monsters here?”

  “Yeah, what do they call them? Sasquatch, I think? Not to mention the volcanoes and the earthquakes.”

  “No, I’ve seen nothing like that.” Unless you count the near-kiss Mariah and I shared last night. That qualified as a minor earthquake.

  “You sound rested.”

  “I am.” Rico yawned and stretched.

  “Good, you needed it. I’ve never seen you so on edge. I thought you were gonna stuff Dad in the air-conditioning vent just before you left.”

  Sometimes, Rico regretted that his sister worked for his company as an accountant. She always meddled in his business and personal life. Regardless, he loved her dearly.

  “I still don’t think I need a vacation. At least not a month-long one.”

  “You’ve been so charming to work with that none of us could stand being around you.”

  Rico growled at her but said nothing.

  Angel laughed. He’d never intimidated her. “Besides, it’s perfect timing with Dad being on his honeymoon and out of everyone’s hair.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I’d never leave the business for a month if he was around. We’d all be bankrupt.”

  “I thought we almost were.”

  He ignored her remark, which hit way too close to the truth. “Have you heard from him?”

  “Yeah, he’s having a great time with his latest chicky baby, what is her name anyway?”

  “Hell if I know. I don’t bother learning their names until they pass the one-month test.”

  “One month married to Dad and not filing for a divorce? When’s the last time that happened?”

  “I don’t understood why he bothers to marry them anymore.”

  “It’s a mystery to me.”

  “Yeah.” Rico sighed and rubbed his throbbing temples.

  “Wish he’d try for a more mature woman.”

  “Like over twenty-one?”

  Angel laughed. “I really do miss you. What’s it like there? Is it as beautiful as Max and Carmen claimed?”

  “It’s all right. The best thing is that not one person has recognized me. I’m one of the crowd around here. Funny how things that most people take for granted can be such a luxury. You’ve told no one where I am?”

  “Of course not. If I had, the aunts, uncles, and cousins would already be on your doorstep, palms extended.”

  “I can’t believe I’m running from my own family.”

  “You need a break, and they need a dose of living
without your constant handouts.” She switched subjects. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

  Rico hesitated. An enticing woman to seduce did wonders for a guy’s boredom. He wasn’t about to tell Angel though.

  Unfortunately, Angel knew him too well and read his mind. “Don’t tell me. You’ve met a woman.”

  “I’ve found someone to spend some time with. Muy caliente. We’re going out tonight.”

  “Hot, huh? God, Rico, that’s good to hear. You need a diversion like that with someone who isn’t in the business.”

  Rico didn’t respond. He considered Mariah a diversion, yet it didn’t sit well with him when Angel made the same assumption.

  “Angel, do you know anything about horses?”

  “No, not much. Why?” Angel sounded puzzled.

  “This woman I met. She makes horses dance. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “They stand up on their hind legs and dance? Is she in the circus?” His sister’s rich laughter echoed across the phone.

  “No, when she rides them, it’s—it’s—” Rico couldn’t find the right words in English or Spanish. “It’s magic.”

  “Okay. If you say so, Rico.” She was patronizing him. He hated it when she did that.

  “You have to see it to appreciate it.”

  “Let me get this straight—you’re seeing a woman who works in the circus and makes horses dance by using magic? Do they tango or waltz or what?”

  “Awwww, forget it.” Rolling to his feet, he tucked the cell phone under his chin and walked into the house. He checked himself out in the bathroom mirror. He needed a shave and his hair had been pretty much wash and wear this morning. He briefly considered a shower then decided not to bother. He hadn’t done enough all day to possibly get dirty.

  His hair drove him nuts. He liked it shorter because the longer it got, the more it seemed to do its own thing. It kept falling in his eyes, yet he didn’t dare cut it. So far, he’d managed to remain anonymous even though he’d received some curious second looks.

  If word got out that he was on the island, he might as well pack up and leave.

  * * *

  Mariah eyed herself in the mirror with distress. Her hair refused to cooperate. Her wrinkled dress hung on her like a sack. Her makeup just wasn’t right. She’d broken a fingernail and plucked her eyebrows until they’d almost disappeared.

  Eva insisted she could be in a Clairol commercial with her hair and eyes, but Eva loved to exaggerate. Mariah thought she resembled a before picture from a Glamour makeover article. Sighing dramatically, she brushed her long dark hair, attempting to bring out the auburn highlights. After she put down the hairbrush, she shook her head in disgust and applied some more eyeliner to her eyes.

  She turned around several times, frowning at her appearance with a critical eye. When she looked in the mirror, she saw herself as she’d been in high school, gangly and awkward with long legs and arms. She’d towered over the boys in her class and slumped whenever she stood next to them.

  In exasperation, she threw herself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She needed to calm down, it was just dinner with a guy. Okay, a scruffy, gorgeous guy but still just a guy. She didn’t have to go home with him or invite him to her place. Just have dinner and relax and keep the dessert in the restaurant.

  Mariah sighed. Yeah, right. The only way she’d avoid the inevitable would be to refuse to see him. Her body had already made its decision. It was only a matter of time.

  Once they slept together, that would be the end of him. She couldn’t meet his expectations in comparison with the other women he’d probably had. A cold fish, that’s what Warren had always told her.

  Only she didn’t feel so cold when she looked at Rodrigo. In fact, sitting her ass on a camp fire couldn’t feel much hotter.

  Chapter 4—The Wine and Dine

  Rico sipped his wine and surveyed the old mansion’s bar, once the main living room. The place reminded him of a classical luxury liner with its nautical theme and Mission-style antiques. A massive concrete and marble-chip fireplace dominated one wall. Stained glass lanterns and candles cast the room in a warm glow, just perfect for a little romantic liaison. In one corner, a musician set up his keyboard near the teak dance floor for the night’s entertainment. The music had to be more tolerable than the karaoke singers from the night before. It couldn’t be worse.

  Mariah’s choice of locations left him wondering what his sexy island girl had in mind for tonight. He couldn’t have created a better backdrop for a seduction if he’d planned it himself. Shame on her, pretending to be so innocent and sweet then picking this particular place for their little rendezvous. He was starting to feel pretty lucky. About time he got lucky at something.

  Then again—one glass of wine and a half a plate of nachos later, Rico checked his watch for the hundredth time. A half hour late. He drummed his fingers on the table until the couple next to him asked to be moved. Sighing, he poured another glass of wine. At this rate he’d be drunk before dinner.

  What if she didn’t show? His heart sank at the thought, leaving him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t have her phone number either. That was a major oversight on his part.

  Giving in to weakness, he left his seat and stepped outside. Lighting a cigarette, he inhaled deeply. Nasty habit; someday he’d quit. At least, he’d cut back. Lately, he only smoked when he was stressed or with other smokers. This woman was driving him to drink and smoke, two bad habits he’d curtailed in the past couple years.

  He was in lust, pure and simple, and damn, it had felt good. Now it just felt frustrating. Where the hell was that woman?

  Despite his former reputation as a Latin lover, the last time he’d slept with a woman had been months ago. Mariah could temporarily fill that void in his life, one that had been there since Carmen dumped him four years ago.

  Rico shivered as a breeze blew in from the water. The setting sun colored Cascade Bay in oranges and reds. It’d be dark before long. He took one last drag, drew the smoke into his lungs then stubbed out his cigarette. Walking back into the bar, he slumped onto a wooden bench.

  A few tables away, two gorgeous women tried to get his attention. Disinterested, Rico gave them a view of his back. He didn’t want either of them; he wanted Mariah. Forty-five minutes late and counting. He debated on how long he should stay before giving up on her.

  Then he felt something.

  And he knew.

  He swung his gaze to the doorway. She stood there, an angel of mercy rescuing a drowning man. When she spotted him, a soul-warming smile crossed her beautiful face. His heart sped up, and he held his breath. His body hummed with anticipation. She did it for him in pretty much every way he could think of and maybe some he hadn’t thought of in a long time.

  Her incredible hair was loose and softly curled. He indulged in a split-second fantasy in which her long mane grazed his naked thighs. His eyes dropped lower. A sleeveless white top bared an inch of her midriff, and black Capri pants hugged her long legs—yet another fantasy in the making. Rico needed those fantasies to become a reality. And soon.

  He glanced down at his own clothes, his usual faded jeans, scuffed boots, and white t-shirt. He’d taken this casual Northwest way of dressing to heart. Mariah would hyperventilate if she peeked at his closet brimming with Armani and Calvin Klein at home.

  She reached the table, and he stood. “You look muy caliente. Very hot.”

  “Thank you.” An attractive crimson stained her cheeks.

  Moving aside, he helped her slide onto the padded wooden bench and settled beside her. Her surprised expression indicated she probably hadn’t expected such good manners. After all, he drank wine from a bottle and had a sexual innuendo (or two) for every occasion.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” She did the lowered lashes and coy smile thing to perfection. It worked for him.

  “I’m just glad you’re here. I was worried you might stand me up
.” He hoped he didn’t sound like he was groveling. Dios. He didn’t grovel.

  “I would never do that, Rodrigo.” She blushed, again.

  “That’s nice to know.” Satisfaction warmed his body. He looked around for a distraction, not for her, but him. “Mariah, this mansion is impressive. God knows, I’ve had a lot of time to explore it while I was waiting for you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She did look a little sheepish.

  “That’s okay. I didn’t mind.” Liar.

  “I love this place.” Her eyes swept the room. “Shipwrights built it in the early 1900s for Robert Moran. He was a shipbuilder and mayor of Seattle. In his forties, his doctors diagnosed him with a heart condition and gave him a few years to live. He retired to Orcas Island and built this estate with the same care with which he built his battleships.”

  “So once he moved here, how long did he live?”

  “I think he was in his late eighties when he died.”

  “So the Islands saved his life?” He almost smiled.

  “The laid-back island lifestyle with a little magic thrown in rescued him.”

  “Ah, yes, the Orcas Island magic.” Relaxing, Rico leaned back against the bench and folded his arms across his stomach. “Do you believe that stuff?”

  Mariah shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “In a way. I spent my summers on the farm for as long as I can remember. Actually, I’m from Seattle, born and raised there, but this feels like home more than Seattle ever did.”

  Rico raised his wine glass and offered a toast. “To beautiful islands and a beautiful woman.”

  Mariah touched her glass to his and a rosy flush stained her cheeks. That was three times in less than five minutes. Not bad, even for him. He congratulated himself for being such a smooth devil and saying the right things. Maybe he wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight after all.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you know Max?”

  That question caught him off-guard. She must have decided it was time to switch channels to safer programming, only it wasn’t safer for him. He’d take advantage of the next opportunity and flip back to an adult channel. “Max? We’ve been friends for—I don’t know—a lifetime? Fourteen, fifteen years, I guess. We met when I was just out of high school. He’s six years older. I sang in a band he had at the time. He’s been with me through all the good and bad stuff.”