She smiled at his joke as she opened the suitcases and pulled out wet clothes, then spread them across the furniture so they could dry. There wasn’t much in the room: a couch, an armchair, a plastic-topped table with two metal chairs. Part of one wall held a single-counter kitchenette. And there was a bed. A solitary bed covered with a pretty quilt.

Vera went to the bed, pulled off the quilt and held it up to him. “I promise I won’t look.”

“In that case, I’m not taking anything off.”

Vera felt herself flush. She tossed the quilt onto the couch. “Suit yourself.” She got her denim bag, set it on the table and began pulling out food.

Miguel got the fire started, then began unbuttoning his shirt. As he peeled the wet fabric from his skin, she did her best not to look. She failed.

His skin was the color of honey, with a little hair on his chest. He was lean and muscular. She was sure he knew she was watching him, but he didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, as though he were alone, he slowly undressed.

When he slid his jeans down, Vera gave up her pretense of unpacking food and watched him. He was sideways to her, facing away.

Under his jeans, he had on white briefs. His legs were muscular from a lifetime of farmwork. Slowly, he rolled down the wet briefs. When he was nude, Vera could feel her heart pounding.

He still didn’t look at her, but reached to the side, picked up the quilt and wrapped it around his beautiful body. Only then did he turn to her.

Vera knew what his eyes were saying. He’d always been clear that he was attracted to her.

She broke the contact. “I’ll heat up—” She had to clear her throat. “The soup. I’ll heat it for us.”

“Good.” Miguel sat down at the table.

They ate in silence. They were on slices of Nella’s pie when Miguel said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Why don’t you wear your engagement ring?”

“Don’t have one.”

He smiled. “The Great and Wondrous Adam hasn’t shelled out thousands for a ring yet?”

“Actually...” She was pushing her piece of pie around the plate. “He’s never asked me to marry him.” At Miguel’s silence, she looked up.

He was staring at her. “Repeat that.”

She waved her fork about. “It’s an understanding between us, that’s all. After Kelly—”

“I know! I’ve heard it a thousand times. After Kelly graduates, you and Adam will go back to Africa or Marrakech or wherever the Hatten money takes you.”

His growing anger didn’t perturb her. “That’s mostly right. But one of my clients is a reporter. He’s just local but he knows things. We’ve talked a lot. I plan to become a reporter. I’ll tell the US about foreign situations. I wouldn’t be living off Hatten money. And the other thing is that I don’t plan to get married. Ever.”