Page 70 of The Virgin's Dance
“It was one of the dancers from the show. He was just being friendly. I couldn’t get home in the dark.”
José’s father, who’d been sitting at the table through all of this, became agitated and began speaking in rapid Spanish.
“You came home with a gypsy thief!?” José asked incredulously after listening to his father.
“He’s a dancer, not a thief!” Donna said, her voice rising with indignation.
“You need to take my advice and my family’s, Donna, and stay away from those people.”
Donnas face reddened in anger. These people, judging a man they haven’t even spoken to!
She was silent for the rest of breakfast and then went up to her room, trying not to stamp on the stairs on her way up.
Chapter 7
The incident was forgotten in a few days and Donna settled into her new routine with José and Maria. Wedding plans and beach parties filled up the days, while the nights were spent dreaming of Antonio, trying to quench her desire with her own fingers.
She didn’t know if she would see him again, or if she could even go back to the dance cave. He had left her shaken up—physically and emotionally.
About a week after her trip to the gypsy cave, she had a day to herself. She walked along the beach, the heat sweltering as the summer approached, and she walked in only her bikini, covered by a sapphire sarong.
As she was apt to do when left to her own devices, she walked along the coastline in her own little world, listening only to the sounds of the sea. She heard the sounds of buskers strumming guitar rhythms, singing in hoarse tones, Spanish songs of lost love, lost souls, and the cruelty of the sea. She took in the sounds of seagulls and children screaming with glee at the hot sand between their toes.
She realized she had walked as far as the café where she had met Ivan, and had the odd sensation of wanting to relive that moment.
She sat down at the same table and crossed her legs. She ordered a jug of sangria as the waitress moved past.
As if she had summoned him, she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard the old man say, “Please, let me get that for you.”
She turned around to find Ivan in a shiny orange shirt, which was definitely a sight to see. He had the air of a washed-up Elvis about him today, and his untidy grin was even wider than Donna had remembered.
But today, that grin didn’t disgust her as it had previously. Today she was happy to see him, if not a little suspicious.
“Ivan, what a coincidence to see you here again!”
“It is not a coincidence, my dear. This is where I choose to take my afternoon drink. I’m almost a regular.” He looked calmer today than he had previously, and he sat down beside her smoothly, rolling his orange liqueur around in its glass.
“So you liked the show, I understand.”
“Very much so.”
“And you liked the dance?”
“The dance was beautiful.”
“Yes, I could imagine you dancing too.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Would you like to dance, Donna?”
Taken aback by the question, she said, “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, think about it, because I want to do you a favor.”
Again, Donna found herself unable to think of a reply. She seemed to find herself often in that state around Ivan.
“I know of a very good dance school. It’s family run, and you can go for free.” He was doing his best to look convincing, but there was something about Ivan that always made every offer seem like a contract—except you never got to learn what exactly you were signing up for or were signing away.
“That’s very kind, but I’m not a very good dancer.”
He laughed too loudly. “Nonsense. I saw you at the show, watching the dance. You have some passion for it, I can tell.”
