Page 81 of It Takes Three To Tango

Everyone is frozen in stunned silence as Señor Bernat folds the papers and then opens his case. He takes out further documents and lays them out on the table.

“I have made copies for you so you can read them at your leisure. I will, of course, be handling the disposal of the estate.” He rises and my father jumps up, shouting.

“This has to be a mistake. I should get everything.”

“I think you’ll find that everything is correct, Señor Delgado,” Señor Bernat says, unruffled by my father’s outburst.

I stand and turn to Rafe, who still looks stunned, if not a little puzzled. He stands slowly.

“Why would she leave me anything? I hardly knew her?”

I have no answer as I have no idea why she left me, according to what Señor Bernat’s just read out, the bulk of her estate. Except that she was a canny old woman who did whatever she wanted. I look over to where Constantin is hugging a very shocked-looking Juana and ushering her over to us. I hug her too. She has tears running down her face, and she’s overwhelmed with emotion.

My father comes over and says venomously, “Whatever it is you think you’re playing at here, you won’t get away with it.”

I stand up straighter, the first time I’ve ever done so in my father’s presence, and look him in the eye. “I want you to vacatemyhouse immediately.”

Two years later

Every time the plane’s wheels touch down on the runway, I get an overwhelming sense of home.

After a month away, I’m more than glad to be home. The book tour has been successful but exhausting. I’m not going to complain, though. Estrella’s biography was a huge hit here in Spain, the UK, and surprisingly, on the other side of the water. The decision to take Noah on as my agent is one I’ve never regretted and have often been extremely thankful for. He managed to get the biography into markets I’d not thought of, and on the back of its success, was also able to sell the Blackwater series to a major publisher. It’s the tour for the first book in the series that I’ve just finished.

I text the chat I have with Florencio and Constantin as soon as I’m off the plane and receive texts back. A typically loud one—all in capitals—from Florencio makes me giggle somuch I get funny looks while waiting in line for customs. A more sedate one from Constantin, saying he’s caught up with something at the bar, but he’ll be back as soon as he can... and a curious “start without me” message, with a peach emoji.

Alena manages the bar now so Constantin can concentrate more on playing with the band, which is his first love. She also rents the apartment above, taking over when Constantin properly moved out.

I call an Uber to take me to the apartment we bought together eighteen months ago. We own the whole building, but rent out the other apartments, reserving the top floor for ourselves.

“Oro!”Florencio shouts as soon as I’m through the door, followed a second later by his physical form as he jumps into my arms and covers my face with kisses.

“I missed you, baby.” I kiss him back, trying to devour his mouth in one go. Yes, I’ve definitely missed his lips.

A delicious smell hits my nostrils. “Flo, have you been cooking?”

“Cariño, of course I have. You probably haven’t eaten properly in weeks.”

I laugh. I’ve eaten very well, but for some reason, Florencio thinks it’s not real unless he’s cooked it. He doesn’t need to cook for a living so he does it for fun, though he will still help Sofia, whom we see often, if she asks. We also visit Juana, who bought herself a beautiful villa outside the city and lives in a quiet but happy retirement. Florencio also teaches dance lessons, holding them in the bar before it opens. But mostly, we dance together. I’ve improved a lot in two years, and we’ve made a name for ourselves that brings people to the bar. We even took part in the first tango festival held this year, which was a lot of fun.

“Oh! Hold on, I need to turn the oven down.” He rushesoff in the same whirlwind he arrived in. Before I pick my bags up, I do what I always do when I return home. I stand in front of the photograph in the lobby and say a silent thank you. The photograph, taken on Estrella’s night out, is of her, me, Florencio, and Constantin. We all look happy and it’s the only one of us all together. It was the first picture we hung on the wall when we moved in.

The apartment is a huge open-plan space, covering nearly the entire top floor of the building. The whole side has floor-to-ceiling windows with an amazing view across the harbour. In the centre is a dance floor where the Steinway stands to one edge. On one side is a dining area leading to a large kitchen space where Florencio is bustling around being busy. On the other side is a cosy living area and den with a huge screen TV. A few rooms lead off, mostly the cloakroom, a bathroom, and my office. There’s a steel and glass curved stairway to a mezzanine floor, where our bedroom is. It has a huge bed, dressing rooms, and a bathroom with a shower plenty big enough for us all.

We all had a say in decorating it and whilst we mostly agreed, there are distinctive touches from each of us in the decor. I start unpacking, and Florencio brings me a coffee, which is very welcome.

“Thanks, baby,” I say, taking it from him. “What did Con mean by his message?”

Florencio sashays up to me. “He wanted to give you a special welcome home. Said we had to take care of you... if you’re not too tired?”

His voice is warm and silky, and I can already feel my cock taking an interest.

“I’m never too tired for you, baby.”

“That’s good then.” He starts slowly unbuttoning my shirt, pressing kisses to my chest. I hiss as his mouth finds my nipples, and he takes one in his teeth, tugging gently beforegiving the same attention to the other. When I’m undressed, he peels off his own clothes and leads us to the shower. He won’t let me do a thing myself and I just stand under the hot water as he massages shampoo into my hair. He reaches for my shower gel, giving it a deep smell, and murmuring “Mmmmm,” before pouring it out and smoothing it all over my skin. My body responds to his touches and strokes as he’s spent hours mapping it out, the same as we have for each other. He washes himself and then turns off the water. He even towels me dry, only allowing me to distract him with kisses.

When we’re dry, he leads me to the bed and pushes me to lie on my back before climbing on top of me, straddling my hips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

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