Even though I didn’t know Oswald, I was hurt and very confused. How could I have been bored, when I’d always had so many things to do? I’d reached the door to the maid’s room when my ex-fiancé caught up to me. He took my arm and turned me to face him.

His eyes were the same hue as the scarf I’d been making. I must have been making it for him even though we’d broken up.

“Milagro, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I have a history of screwing up relationships and clearly something went wrong between us. You didn’t ask for me to come here, didn’t want me to stay, and it’s good of you to take me in now when you don’t have to.”

“That doesn’t excuse my behavior.” He touched my exposed wrist, sending a zizz through me. “I was the one who brought you into my life and my problematic family. I gave you the condition. I’m responsible for you.”

I looked up into Oswald’s clear gray eyes. “Did you love me, Oswald?”

He hesitated and then said, “Yes, even though you drove me crazy. You still drive me crazy.”

“So why did we break up?”

“We took missteps and every time we tried to fix them, others interfered.” He ran his fingers up my sleeve and along my arm, making me want to lean into his touch. “Both of us made mistakes, but if we had just gone ahead and gotten married, this never would have happened to you.”

“And how was it when we made love?”

“Amazing,” he said. “I remember the last time. We were in the City and we’d registered for wedding gifts. Then I’d done some consults. I came back to our hotel suite and you were wearing a white plastic miniskirt,” he said, and smiled.

I smiled, too. “That sounds very glamorous.”

“We were going to go out, but we stayed in and spent the night making love. If I had known it would be the last time …,” he said. “Oh, Milagro, I’ve missed you so much.”

He was serious and sincere, an irresistible combination in a fabulous man, so I didn’t even try to resist. I put my arms around him and his lips went to mine. Delicious sensations rippled through my body, and I thought of the magical kiss that awakens a sleeping princess and the magical kiss that transforms a frog.

Oswald pushed me through the doorway into the room and kicked the door shut behind us.

Each taste of his tongue sent all sorts of happy signals along my synapses. Maybe my memory could be recovered by a different magical act. I pressed myself against him, wrapping my leg around his, and then someone rapped on the door.

Oswald took his mouth from mine.

“In a minute,” he called out. To me, he whispered, “You always do this to me.” He went to face the window, blowing out his breath and adjusting himself in his jeans.