“Enough history,” Alejandro said, shaking his head ruefully. “There’s an ice-cream shop down the street, the most famous in Granada. The American first lady visited here recently and said it was the best ice cream in all of Spain....”
But I wasn’t listening. I was too busy trying to think things through. Eating the ice-cream cone some time later as we walked, I looked at Alejandro sideways beneath my lashes. He was so handsome, so dark-haired and broad-shouldered. The man of my dreams, come to life.
What was the secret? What was it he couldn’t tell me, for fear of endangering his grandmother and his son?
We walked through the narrow streets of Granada, and I bought some chocolates and a garden ornament for Maurine, and a small stuffed toy for Miguel, plus a wooden sword and shield he wouldn’t be able to play with for at least a year.
I couldn’t stop thinking of that last sultan, Boabdil, who’d sacrificed everything, his honor, his fortune, his pride, rather than see the palace he loved blown up into ash.
What would I sacrifice for love?
What would you?
Love me? Alejandro’s words floated back to me. You do not even know me.
Maybe he’d been right. A year ago, maybe I’d just fallen for his power, his wealth, his influence. His beauty.
But now, as I looked at his face, I loved him for who he really was. The man who took care of everyone. Who was willing to sacrifice himself for those he cared about. As a father. A grandson. A neighbor. A boss.
A husband.
My heart caught in my chest. What was I missing?
Twilight was falling when Alejandro suggested we go out for dinner and drinks. “A...friend of mine owns a restaurant in the Albaicín district.”
I looked at him sharply. He nodded.
“Yes,” he said quietly, watching me in the deepening dusk. “I want you to meet her.”
I was shaking when we walked up the cobblestoned alleys of the Albaicín, the old Moorish quarter on the hillside beneath the Alhambra. We reached a prosperous-looking tavern, filled with people and music. I froze.
“Come on,” Alejandro said gently. “It’ll be all right.” Pulling me inside, he brought me through the crowds to the bar, where he was greeted eagerly by the other patrons.
“Are you going to play tonight, señor?”
With a slight smile, he shook his head. “Where is Theresa?”
The man motioned toward the end of the bar with his glass of sangria. With a quick nod, Alejandro pulled me down toward a dark-haired woman.
“Theresa,” he said, kissing her on each cheek.
“Alejandro,” she exclaimed, returning the embrace. “I didn’t expect you so soon!”
I stared at the woman. She wasn’t what I’d expected. She had dark eyes and a round, friendly face, and she seemed at least ten years older than Alejandro. She smiled as she turned to me. “And this must be your wife.” A big smile lit up her face. “Your Lena?”
My lips parted. His Lena?
“Sí.” Alejandro put his arm around me. “My Lena.”
“I’m so happy to meet you at last!” she said with clear delight. “I told him he had to bring you here. Wait until you hear him play!”
“Play?” I echoed, looking at him.
He blushed. I swear he did. “Yes. I play a little guitar sometimes. No one cares I’m a duke here. They only care how well I play the guitar....”
“Are you that good?”
“Let him show you.” Theresa gave me a wink. “Drink orders always go up thirty percent when you sing, Alejandro.” She turned to me with a smile. “Go grab a table, if you can find one.... And what will you have?”
“Bourbon,” he said. “Rocks.”
“Right. Lena?”
“Something light...sangria?”
She chuckled. “Light?”
“Isn’t it mostly juice with a bit of red wine?”
She gave a hearty guffaw and glanced at Alejandro affectionately. “Innocent little thing, isn’t she?”
“Very,” he said quietly.
She sighed, looking back at me, she suggested, “I’ll make you a tinto de verano. Dash of wine, sugar and a little lime with sparkling water. Trust me. It won’t go to your head.”
She was right. The delicious concoction was a mixture of tart and sweet and bubbles, with lemon and limes floating beside the ice. I had one glass, then another, then a third, then looked down at my empty plate and realized I’d ordered and eaten a whole plate of dinner without paying the slightest attention.
“What time is it?” My head was swimming. I put my hands to my temples. “She said this drink wouldn’t go to my head,” I said accusingly.