boring into mine. “I know,” he said softly. “That much, I know.”
“So?” asked Javy, the boy I’d forgotten was walking next to me. “Where are you taking her? She’s probably hungry—”
“Yeah, and thirsty too,” a skinny boy chimed in behind us.
“Someplace nice,” José Luis offered from the other side of Santiago and then blushed when I smiled at him.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” Santiago asked.
“Come on, Coach. You bring a nice lady to the field who can actually play fútbol ? Don’t you want to marry her or something?” a chubby kid said.
Santiago laughed. “Miss Carter does deserve a special lunch after all the hard effort she put in with you monkeys. How about it, Erin? Can I treat you?”
“Sounds wonderful. I am pretty hungry. And thirsty. Thanks boys, for a fun morning.”
“ Adiós , Miss Carter. See you next time,” they called out as they filtered back out through the narrow gate. It was sad to see them go.
“Shall we be on our way?” He tucked his shirt back into his pants.
“Where?”
“The best place I can think of.”
“Pretty much tells me nothing. Is surprise the theme of the day?”
His eyes twinkled. “It might take a couple hours to get there.”
Hmm, clinging to that hunk of a man for two hours on his bike? “Works for me.”
We were going sound-barrier-breaking fast. Any sane woman would be terrified out of her wits. Even if she was wrapped around a Spanish god who rode like he was one with the motorcycle. Santiago weaved us around cars on the congested two-lane highway. He’d confessed to being a national motorcycle champion in his younger days and hardly ever crashed. Hardly ever . Was that supposed to make me feel better?
It took a little while, but soon I began to enjoy the speed and the rush.
He pulled over to the side of the road, letting the cars whiz passed us. “We’re almost there,” he said loudly over his shoulder to me. “Keep your eyes open for an amazing sight.”
“Where are we going?”
“Segovia. I’ll give you the tour once we get off this highway.”
As we entered the city, he pulled onto a quieter street and parked the bike.
“Holy smokes! What’s that?” I pointed toward an intricate structure several stories high, arches upon arches as far as my eyes could see.
He grinned. “Amazing, right? It’s the largest and best-preserved Roman aqueduct of its kind in the world. And it still works. The coolest thing? None of those stone blocks are held together by mortar or concrete.”
Cool, yes, but it didn’t compare with his eyes glowing with excitement. A girl could be bowled over by so much boyish exuberance. Those dimples brought a punch of heat to my belly.
“Wow,” I said, and meant it.
He got off the bike and took my hand. “There’s so much I want to show you.”
We walked hand in hand down the cobblestone streets through romantic coves and hideaways.
“Hear that?” he asked. “The bells from the sixteenth century cathedral still call worshippers to mass. No matter what direction you come into Segovia, you can see it. I think the bishops wanted to make sure God was the first and last thing on your mind when you arrived here.”
“Has anyone ever told you what a wonderful tour guide you are?”
“You’re the first person I’ve taken on this tour.”
“Really? I love this city.” Happiness threatened to burst out of my chest. “It’s so old, modern, romantic.”
“I’ve been here many times.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “But this is my favorite.”
Mercy! My heart pounded .
“Hungry? The restaurant I’m taking you to is world-famous for paella.”
“Starved.”
When we got there, the restaurant was packed and my stomach was already eating itself. I didn’t know how much longer I could wait before I passed out.
He held up a finger, motioning for me to wait outside. Through the windows I saw him lean over the podium and whisper into the hostess’s ear. The
“So?” asked Javy, the boy I’d forgotten was walking next to me. “Where are you taking her? She’s probably hungry—”
“Yeah, and thirsty too,” a skinny boy chimed in behind us.
“Someplace nice,” José Luis offered from the other side of Santiago and then blushed when I smiled at him.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” Santiago asked.
“Come on, Coach. You bring a nice lady to the field who can actually play fútbol ? Don’t you want to marry her or something?” a chubby kid said.
Santiago laughed. “Miss Carter does deserve a special lunch after all the hard effort she put in with you monkeys. How about it, Erin? Can I treat you?”
“Sounds wonderful. I am pretty hungry. And thirsty. Thanks boys, for a fun morning.”
“ Adiós , Miss Carter. See you next time,” they called out as they filtered back out through the narrow gate. It was sad to see them go.
“Shall we be on our way?” He tucked his shirt back into his pants.
“Where?”
“The best place I can think of.”
“Pretty much tells me nothing. Is surprise the theme of the day?”
His eyes twinkled. “It might take a couple hours to get there.”
Hmm, clinging to that hunk of a man for two hours on his bike? “Works for me.”
We were going sound-barrier-breaking fast. Any sane woman would be terrified out of her wits. Even if she was wrapped around a Spanish god who rode like he was one with the motorcycle. Santiago weaved us around cars on the congested two-lane highway. He’d confessed to being a national motorcycle champion in his younger days and hardly ever crashed. Hardly ever . Was that supposed to make me feel better?
It took a little while, but soon I began to enjoy the speed and the rush.
He pulled over to the side of the road, letting the cars whiz passed us. “We’re almost there,” he said loudly over his shoulder to me. “Keep your eyes open for an amazing sight.”
“Where are we going?”
“Segovia. I’ll give you the tour once we get off this highway.”
As we entered the city, he pulled onto a quieter street and parked the bike.
“Holy smokes! What’s that?” I pointed toward an intricate structure several stories high, arches upon arches as far as my eyes could see.
He grinned. “Amazing, right? It’s the largest and best-preserved Roman aqueduct of its kind in the world. And it still works. The coolest thing? None of those stone blocks are held together by mortar or concrete.”
Cool, yes, but it didn’t compare with his eyes glowing with excitement. A girl could be bowled over by so much boyish exuberance. Those dimples brought a punch of heat to my belly.
“Wow,” I said, and meant it.
He got off the bike and took my hand. “There’s so much I want to show you.”
We walked hand in hand down the cobblestone streets through romantic coves and hideaways.
“Hear that?” he asked. “The bells from the sixteenth century cathedral still call worshippers to mass. No matter what direction you come into Segovia, you can see it. I think the bishops wanted to make sure God was the first and last thing on your mind when you arrived here.”
“Has anyone ever told you what a wonderful tour guide you are?”
“You’re the first person I’ve taken on this tour.”
“Really? I love this city.” Happiness threatened to burst out of my chest. “It’s so old, modern, romantic.”
“I’ve been here many times.” He put his arm around my shoulders. “But this is my favorite.”
Mercy! My heart pounded .
“Hungry? The restaurant I’m taking you to is world-famous for paella.”
“Starved.”
When we got there, the restaurant was packed and my stomach was already eating itself. I didn’t know how much longer I could wait before I passed out.
He held up a finger, motioning for me to wait outside. Through the windows I saw him lean over the podium and whisper into the hostess’s ear. The
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