He observed her cautiously and then said, “It is hard to tell how outsiders will take to our culture.”
There was an awkward pause in the exchange as Donna tried to think of something to say. The dance had mesmerized her, and she didn’t want to speak to him or anyone else while she was in this state.
“What did you think of our fine dancer tonight?”
“He was very, very good.”
“Yes. Here, let me introduce you to the great man himself.”
He took her by the arm before she could respond and pulled back another curtain to reveal a tunnel connecting to another room in the cave.
This was different from the showroom, lit only by candles flickering from their shelves in the stone wall, and they were alone.
“Please, sit, have a drink.” He reached for a small jug of red wine on a little wooden table and poured a glass.
Donna remained standing but took the glass, wondering if anyone else was actually coming.
Following creepy men through dark passages, are we now, Donna? Very clever.
“I don’t think we have exchanged particulars. My name is Ivan. And what is yours, dear girl?”
“Donna.”
“Donna. Little Donna, you are short for an American.” His toothy grin made another brief appearance.
She resisted the urge to show her irritation, feeling vulnerable with his green glare on focused on her. She’d never met anyone with a stare like his—almost manic, as if he’d be happy to stare at her all night without another word.
There was a movement from the other side of the room, breaking the uneasy stillness that had come over the room.
It was the dancer, standing in the shadows of another alcove. Feeling the need to get away from Ivan, who was becoming increasingly strange as they stood there, she shuffled over to this other occupant of the room.
He was leaning over, removing his dance shoes. His shirt was off now, and his sweaty torso gleaming in the flickering candlelight.
“Hola,” Donna yelled awkwardly, moving nearer to him as Ivan closed in beside her.
They had caught him in a moment of solitude, and she could see that he was surprised that anyone else should be there.
“Antonio, meet our lovely guest, Donna,” Ivan introduced, standing closely between the two of them.
Antonio looked at her for a second with sharp, dark eyes, immediately noticing the look of discomfort on her face.
“Ivan, step back a little. It’s very hot in here,” came his deep rumble.
Ivan immediately stepped away, into the shadows.
Donna’s shoulders loosened as she instantly felt safer, her whole being feeling reassured in his presence, even though he was still a stranger to her.
“Nice to meet you,” Antonio said in broken English. “It’s not so often I get women in my dressing room.” He smiled cheekily, and she imagined that that was not the case at all.
He put his hand out to shake hers, and she reached out to take it. A jolt of electricity pulsed through her as their hands made contact. His face changed at their touch, too, as if he might have felt the same thing.
“So, what brings you up here? It’s not often outsiders come to this show,” Antonio asked, releasing Donna’s hand.
“I found her, Antonio, and invited her myself,” Ivan said heartily.
“Ah, so my uncle has been harassing you?”
“Far from harassing her, I have merely extended a hand of welcome. Beautiful red-headed ladies are unusual in Spain. I was intrigued by such a foreign beauty.”
Antonio, pulling a black T-shirt over his head, frowned disapprovingly at the older man.
A woman’s voice screamed from the showroom, calling Ivan’s name, the shouts and curses in Spanish carrying easily into the adjoined room.
In an instant, Ivan excused himself and hurried out of the room.
Antonio laughed. “I apologize for my uncle. He can be a little odd at times”
Donna shrugged it off. “I’m grateful to have been invited to the show.”
“Please sit down with me. Have a drink,” he gestured toward the glass she’d forgotten was in her hand.
They sat in the candlelight, sipping red wine, his eyes taking her in as if she were a hot fudge sundae he couldn’t wait to devour.
He traced the curves of her hips, her ample breasts under her little white dress, the subtle plumpness of her lily white arms and legs.
A tiny, pert little package, he thought to himself.
She let him look, enjoying his attention. This was a new experience, to enjoy the eyes of a man so intimately on her.
She could feel her skin prickle as he moved his eyes up and down.
She looked at him now too. She let her eyes fall down across his body, taking in his strong neck and the broad shoulders that his cotton shirt could barely contain. He was intoxicating and beautiful, and the kind of man any mother would describe as trouble. He was not a gentleman—that much was clear.
But tonight, she didn’t care.
“So, Donna, are you living in Spain?”
“Visiting. That’s why my Spanish is so bad,” she said with a wry smile.
“My English is bad, I apologize for that.”
“Well, we are in Spain, after all,” she giggled, hardly recognizing the flirty sound that came out of her mouth. “So what is this place? Who are these people?”
“This is the community that lives here. We are not very well off, but we make our own entertainment, away from the people below who do not accept our culture.” His voice was calm, but Donna didn’t miss the flicker of anger that crossed his face, before he quickly concealed it a second later.
They continued sipping wine into the evening, Antonio playing the role of the charmer, while Donna pretended to play a game of cat and mouse, knowing full well that she was already caught.
It had been inevitable from the moment their hands had touched.
After an hour or so, and once Antonio gauged the situation as tenable he said, “You wanna get out of here?”
Donna nodded, tingles running down her body.
She followed him back into the showroom, where people were now drinking and playing guitar and singing in little groups around the room.
He took her hand tightly, towering over her by a good two feet, and she let him lead her out of the cave. His lithe dancer’s body skillfully avoided Ivan, who was in the center of the stage room talking very loudly and rapidly to another man, who was dressed conspicuously in a suit.
They walked into the night hand in hand, and Antonio walked her right up to a dangerous looking motorcycle. “Jump on,” he said after putting on a helmet. He sat there, looking like every teenage girl’s fantasy, revving the engine with a devilish smile on his face—as if he were daring her to step outside her comfort zone.
“Oh no, I’m not sure I can get on that!”
“Sure, you can,” he replied confidently, offering her his hand to take.
“No, really, I don’t think so. Not downhill in the middle of the night. I’m not great with heights”
“You will be safer on here with me than you will be walking down here in the night. Don’t you know you’re in Gitano territory now? You’re safer with me.” His voice became more expressive than it had been all evening, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not.
“Gitano?”
“Yes, gitanos … the gypsies!” He was sniggering a little, enjoying the shocked look on her face.
“Run away, moon, moon, moon.
If the gypsies find us,
They would cut out your heart
To make necklaces, silvery rings.”
Antonio sang to her as Donna finally put her hand in his. He guided her onto the back of the bike, helping her balance as she gingerly took her seat.
Chapter 6
Aware of her bare legs against his as they rode through the night, she could feel the heat of his big body as she wrapped her arms tightly around his hard stoma
ch, clinging for dear life.
His body relaxed as it touched hers. She could feel rippling abs under his shirt, smell the musk of his damp sweat, and had to resist the urge to bury her face in the fine, dark hair that covered his neck. He smelled so good.
The journey was short and they were down the hill in a flash, her hair flowing behind her. Though her heart felt like it was in her throat the entire ride as they sped along, that didn’t stop other sensations from stirring within her.
She felt like their bodies, pressed so closely to each other, were communicating something that couldn’t be expressed with words.
They reached the center of town.
“So,” he said finally, with an air of reluctance. “Where am I taking you?”
“The Esmerelda’s house. The house on the beach, where José and his family live. It’s … I’m not sure of the street number … let me find the address—”
“I know it,” he cut in sharply.
When they reached José’s beach house, all the lights were off and they almost missed it entirely.
Donna jumped off the bike clumsily. “Thank you so, so much! I don’t know what I would have done …” she said, still clutching his hand to balance herself.
“The pleasure is mine,” he said, interrupting her nervous gabbing. Then, pulling off his helmet, he took her hand to his lips and kissed it. His lips were gentle, just offering the whisper of a kiss, barely touching.
Electricity shot up her arm.
Shuddering, she finally looked up at him, but the magic of the moment seemed to have passed, his eyes no longer playful.
As quickly as he had arrived, he was off again, waving goodbye as he disappeared into the night.
She floated into the house, giggling, a heady feeling bubbling up inside her as she crept up to her little room, pleased now for its privacy.
Lying on the bed, still in her dress, she could still feel the sensation of his lip on her hand.
She took the hand he had kissed and trailed it down her belly, continued down into her wet panties. She was drenched with desire, and wondered if he’d been able to feel her heat as her legs had squeezed around his hips on the bike. She shivered at the thought.
She imagined his lips kissing the rest of her body, imagined them kissing down her spine and the inside of her thighs. Remembered the sensation of having her legs around his while he drove her home, in full command of the bike. She thought of what it would feel like to let him take control of her body too.
She thought of his rigid body as he stepped across the stage, the intensity of his gaze on her.
She orgasmed harder than she had thought possible, and more than once before the night was over. It was as if he had flicked a switch and finally all the lights had come on.
She hoped that she would be able to see him again, knowing deep down that he wasn’t done with her.
“Where were you last night?” José asked, practically throwing a breakfast place at Donna.
“Mmm … these pancakes are delicious, José.” Donna replied, more concerned with scarfing down the delicious food than answering his questions.
“My mamá wanted you to feel at home so she prepared them especially, but none of us knew you were going to sleep so long. I guess it’s not surprising, as you were out half the night.”
“I’m sorry if I woke anyone up. I was home by one.”
“Where were you?” José asked again.
“I went to a flamenco show, up in the mountains. Up in … you know … the gypsy part of town we talked about before,” she answered, pointing to the hill.
José turned a deep purple.
“Do you understand how dangerous that was? To go up there …” He could hardly get the words out. “You know how bad it is? How bad they are? My father is campaigning to get the camp shut down. That’s how bad it is. My father is a good man, a kind man, and even he has decided to give up on that community. They bring drugs here, and violence, and nothing good at all. I don’t understand how you could have gone!”
Donna sat in silence, shocked at what José was saying.
“He’s campaigning to kick people out of their houses?”
“They aren’t houses. It’s more like a garbage dump up there, a pit of addiction and crime and … and who was the man who drove you home? My father saw you drive in, Donna. Who was he?”
His voice had taken on a different tone now. He was stumbling with his English, and, was it in her imagination, or did Donna detect a hint of jealousy?
“While you are here, you are the responsibility of me and my family. My father stayed up all night waiting for you. He saw you come back with a man.”
“It was one of the dancers from the show. He was just being friendly. I couldn’t get home in the dark.”
José’s father, who’d been sitting at the table through all of this, became agitated and began speaking in rapid Spanish.
“You came home with a gypsy thief!?” José asked incredulously after listening to his father.
“He’s a dancer, not a thief!” Donna said, her voice rising with indignation.
“You need to take my advice and my family’s, Donna, and stay away from those people.”
Donnas face reddened in anger. These people, judging a man they haven’t even spoken to!
She was silent for the rest of breakfast and then went up to her room, trying not to stamp on the stairs on her way up.
Chapter 7
The incident was forgotten in a few days and Donna settled into her new routine with José and Maria. Wedding plans and beach parties filled up the days, while the nights were spent dreaming of Antonio, trying to quench her desire with her own fingers.
She didn’t know if she would see him again, or if she could even go back to the dance cave. He had left her shaken up—physically and emotionally.
About a week after her trip to the gypsy cave, she had a day to herself. She walked along the beach, the heat sweltering as the summer approached, and she walked in only her bikini, covered by a sapphire sarong.
As she was apt to do when left to her own devices, she walked along the coastline in her own little world, listening only to the sounds of the sea. She heard the sounds of buskers strumming guitar rhythms, singing in hoarse tones, Spanish songs of lost love, lost souls, and the cruelty of the sea. She took in the sounds of seagulls and children screaming with glee at the hot sand between their toes.
She realized she had walked as far as the café where she had met Ivan, and had the odd sensation of wanting to relive that moment.
She sat down at the same table and crossed her legs. She ordered a jug of sangria as the waitress moved past.
As if she had summoned him, she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard the old man say, “Please, let me get that for you.”
She turned around to find Ivan in a shiny orange shirt, which was definitely a sight to see. He had the air of a washed-up Elvis about him today, and his untidy grin was even wider than Donna had remembered.
The Virgin’s Dance_Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 19
