His Innocent for One Spanish Night by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-03T15:12:56+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘OKAY!’ EVA CLAPPED her hands and forced the chattering to stop. ‘Tonight we are going to go over to the courtyard at Bodega Romero...’

‘Romero?’ Emily frowned. ‘But I work there.’

She had followed Eva’s instructions and indeed dressed up for tonight. She was wearing the pink practice skirt with violet flowers that she had bought at the thrift market, and had added the violet top that had come with it. She’d never intended to wear it—the low-cut top showed way too much cleavage—but she was really trying to give the classes her all. She was also wearing a borrowed pair of red flamenco shoes, and to top things off had tied a big silk rose in her hair.

Though she hadn’t gone out and bought the recommended red lipstick, Emily had thought she was well and truly ready for hellraising—but only in the safety of Eva’s studio!

‘I thought tonight was jaleo?’

‘It is.’ Eva nodded. ‘The restaurant is closed on a Monday, so we can make noise there...’

Emily inwardly groaned. There was no way she was going to get up on stage in front of her colleagues—especially if one of them happened to be Alejandro.

‘Is jaleo always held at Romero?’ Emily asked.

‘Pretty much.’ Eva nodded.

Bastard, Emily thought. He’d known all along. He could have at least warned her. Well, there was no way she was getting up on that stage.

Eva must have seen her gritting her jaw. ‘Just sit and watch if you are too timid to join in, Emily,’ she said. ‘Now, can you please carry the shawls? Stella, can you bring the castanets?’

Thankfully, having trooped through Plaza de Santiago and arrived at the bodega, she saw no sign of Alejandro, but even so there was no way she was joining in.

She sat at the courtyard bar as the rest of the class took to the stage. People were drinking, idly watching the assembled dancers. Emily simply didn’t know how to get up and just dance as the others did.

There was a lot of stamping of male feet as the dancers took to the stage, and Emily baulked at even the thought of the final hurdle. Or rather the stairs to the stage.

‘Maybe later,’ she mumbled to herself.

‘Gracias,’ she said to the barman, who knew her by now, of course, and smiled when she ordered a diet cola.

‘Why aren’t you dancing?’ he asked.

‘Soon!’ Emily said, and then offered by way of explanation, ‘I’ve only just finished work.’

‘Hola.’

She heard a male voice, but knew without turning her head that it wasn’t Alejandro.

‘You’re not dancing?’ the man asked.

‘No.’ Emily flashed a polite smile. ‘Perhaps later.’

‘Would you like another drink?’

‘No, thank you,’ Emily said.

Not that it stopped him from trying to make conversation.

His name was Fernando and, if she was being completely honest, a couple of weeks ago she’d have been both thrilled and embarrassed to be chatted up by this man. Her rock-bottom ego would have glowed as red as her cheeks at Fernando’s skilled flirting.

Now, though, she felt numb.

Just utterly numb as he moved his stool a little closer and told her how gorgeous her outfit was.

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