Contents ( 66)
- Cover
- Books by Valerie Fraser Luesse
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Map of Florida
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- Epilogue
- Keep Reading for a Preview of Valerie Luesse’s Next Book!
- Prologue
- one
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
Peyton looked at Lisa, who shrugged and said, “We’re here, like you said.”
“Will you teach us?” Peyton asked Silvio.
The man gave them a little bow. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Is there—I mean—we don’t have a lot of money . . .”
“No, no, no,” Silvio insisted. “I do not teach for money. I teach for . . . well, for love, I suppose. Now we begin. How would the two of you be standing if you were about to kiss?”
Lisa blushed.
“Do not be embarrassed,” Silvio went on. “It is the most natural thing in the world for a man to kiss a woman. Now. How would you stand?”
Peyton and Lisa turned to face each other, almost touching. “Like this, I guess,” Peyton said to Silvio, who rolled his eyes.
“And would you be looking at me—an old man—if you were about to kiss this beautiful girl?”
“No offense, Silvio, but if I were about to kiss Lisa, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Ha! Now we are getting somewhere. You would wish to be alone in the moonlight at such a time, yes?”
Peyton looked down at Lisa. “Yes. I would want to be alone in the moonlight.”
“Well then, let us prepare you for the moon. Put your arm around her waist . . . Yes, very good. Now take her hand . . . Yes, like that. Señorita Lisa, put your free arm around his shoulder . . . No, not against it but around it. You want to embrace him, not push him away. Yes, that’s it! Now, you walk toward your Peyton and then you back away, but he comes with you because he cannot bear to be apart from you . . . Yes! Now you walk to the side . . . Very good. And now you walk back . . . Excelente! And now you pause to think only of each other . . . Yes! And now you walk again. There. You have learned the danzón. Now go inside and let the music take the place of the moon.”
“What about you?” Peyton asked, still holding Lisa in his arms.
“My dance partner is waiting for me at home.” Silvio tipped his hat. “Adios.”
“Adios—and gracias!” Peyton called after him. He looked at Lisa and gave a little nod toward the dance floor. “What do you think?”
“Como un Cubano,” she said with a smile.
They stepped inside the restaurant, which was dim and cool compared to the sun-drenched street. All the couples on the dance floor, moving in unison to the slow back-and-forth of the danzón, reminded Peyton of palm trees swaying in a tropical storm. Each couple had eyes only for each other, and yet they were all moving together—each pair oblivious to all the others yet dancing to the same rhythm.
Peyton and Lisa found a small empty spot, held each other close, and began the danzón. The music was slow and languid, the rhythm so entrancing that Peyton lost all sense of his own movements and could see only Lisa, her slender arm wrapped around his shoulder, her hand grazing his neck, her breath on his face as she looked up at him in a way that made his heart stop.