any way, until you tell me you want me to.”
She colored. “That’s new.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I’ll get dressed,” she said.
* * *
She came back into the living room dressed in a black cocktail dress with sequins around the hem, with strappy tango shoes and carrying a small black purse.
“Leave the purse here,” he said, smiling at the picture she made. “I’ve got money.”
“Okay.” She tossed it onto the side table. “Oh, my house key...”
She dug it out and looked at herself. The dress fit closely and there were no pockets.
He took the key from her and slid it into the expensive slacks he was wearing with a black silk shirt open at the neck and an expensive dark jacket.
His fingers linked into hers. “Do you mind?” he asked softly.
She tingled all over. “No,” she faltered. “It’s all right.”
He smiled and led her to a stretch limousine that she hadn’t even noticed in her excitement.
“Oh, it’s Domingo, isn’t it?” she exclaimed when the driver got out to open the back door for them. “How is your family? Your daughter...?”
“Doing very well, thanks to you, senhorita,” he said with feeling. “I am happy to see you again!”
She grinned at him and let Rourke ease her into the seat.
“Where are we going?” Domingo asked when he climbed in under the wheel.
“El Jinete,” he said, laughing. “An Argentina native runs it. We’re going to teach the locals how to tango.”
“Ah, such a dance,” Domingo said with feeling. “My mother is from Argentina, you know. She and my father, they danced it together. Not like these silly movies you see...”
Which brought up another subject of conversation, and that took them all the way into Manaus.
* * *
The Latin club was decorated with images of flamenco and furnishings that were reminiscent of both Spain and Latin America.
A young woman wearing a red flamenco dress escorted them to a table near the dance floor and left menus with them.
“They serve food, too,” Rourke said with a grin. “I’m starving!”
She laughed. “Me, too,” she confessed.
They had seafood salads followed by a fruity dessert and coffee.
“I’ve almost forgotten how to dance,” she confessed when he took her onto the dance floor.
“So have I,” he replied. He was remembering the club in Osaka and the hurt look on Clarisse’s face. “I got drunk after you left the club that night in Osaka.”
“Wh...what?” she faltered.
He drew her against him. “Do you think I enjoyed hurting you?” he asked huskily. He averted his gaze to the far wall. “I was scared to death to let you get this close.”
She was fascinated by his expression.
He looked down at her hungrily. “You’ve never been much good at hiding how you feel, Tat,” he said as he began to move her to the lazy, seductive rhythm. “It was a very good thing that I’d had so much to drink last night.”
She flushed and lowered her gaze to his throat.
“Of course, I was still capable,” he mused, and laughed when she stiffened. He hugged her close, with rough affection. “I don’t deserve it. But I feel ten feet tall.”
“You do? Why?”
His mouth teased her ear. “Because you’re still a virgin, Tat.”
His arm brought her closer as he turned her.
“Couldn’t you, with another man?” he asked.
She swallowed. “You’re a hard act to follow,” she managed.
His chest rose and fell a little unsteadily. “If your mother had waited another ten minutes to come back home...”
“I’d have gotten pregnant, most likely,” she interrupted him. “That would have been the end of the world, for you.”
“Why?” He lifted his head and looked into her wide eyes. “I love kids, Tat. So do you.” He smiled. “I remember you giving a bottle to that little boy at the refugee camp,” he said. “It was so poignant that I had to grit my teeth to keep from reaching for you, all the way to the airport.”
He was confusing her. She didn’t understand.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said, brushing his lips over her hair. “We’ve just met. I’m a former secret agent. I have a game park and a pet lion in Africa named Lou. I love beautiful blue-eyed blondes, and I enjoy dancing the tango.”
She laughed. “Do you have one of those permits, too? So you can shoot people...?”
“I never shoot people.” He hesitated. “Almost never.”
She was recalling Miguel and the feel of the knife at her breast. Involuntarily, her fingers went to her bodice.
His arm tightened around her. “He’ll never hurt another woman.”
“He was scary,” she recalled with a tiny shiver. “A big man, very muscular...”
He pursed his lips. “So am I, Tat.”
“Yes, but he had sloppy muscles. You’re...” She recalled how he looked under his clothes and she blushed. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that.”
He laughed. “I can’t believe it, either. I’ll carry that memory around with me for the rest of my life.”
“Why?”
“Because of the way you looked at me,” he said. He averted his gaze. “I’m touchy about my disability, Tat,” he said. “When you looked at me, you weren’t seeing it.”
“I never see it,” she said. “Stanton, there are men missing arms and legs, in all sorts of conditions, coming home from wars and conflicts. Many of them are married or in relationships. People cope, you know?”
“I had a woman tell me once that it would be creepy to go to bed with a one-eyed man,” he said, trying to make a joke of it.
She stopped dancing and winced.
“I didn’t,” he said at once, because he knew why she winced.
“Because
