“Wait,” Juan Carlo said, holding up his hand. “This is what is the problem. I see it very clearly.” He paused for dramatic effect and to sip his wine. “Ah . . .” he said with a smile. “An excellent vintage.” He put the wineglass down and looked thoughtfully at Leah. “You,” he said, pointing at her, “are too suspicious. A man does not like this distrust and accusations whirling about him,” he said, making a whirling motion with his hand.
“When a man declares his love of a woman, he honors it. Does this mean he no longer looks at the other women? No,” he scoffed. “Does it mean he does not occasionally sample the other women? No! Of course not! Men are creatures of the body. They must sample many women to be healthy. But that does not mean he loves another woman. It means only that he puts his love for her above all the other women and will honor her until the day he dies, and this, she must accept,” he said, putting up his hand to stop any argument before it began.
“What he said,” Michael quickly cut in. “But minus the sampling. On my life, I would never sample,” he avowed. “That’s a promise, Leah.”
Leah rolled her eyes at him.
“Now you,” Juan Carlo said, pointing to Michael. “You must be completely honest. It is how they say . . .” He paused, then said in Spanish, “That the women are the weaker sex and must be cared for properly.”
“What?” Leah asked. “What did he say?”
Michael frowned. “That women are the weaker sex and can’t take care of themselves.”
Juan Carlo inclined his head. Leah gasped indignantly.
“This is exact,” Juan Carlo said, waving her off. “I will not give you half-truths.” He looked at Michael. “You must bare your soul to the woman you love. It is what they want, and you must give them what they want in order to have what you want.”
“Well . . . in spite of the fact that we are getting advice from an international terrorist—and one who wasn’t exactly faithful to his wife,” Leah added, frowning at Juan Carlo. “I have to agree.”
Oh, for the love of Christ. Juan Carlo was a fucking idiot, and she was agreeing with him.
This time, Michael managed to get completely upright and on his knees. “I am honest. I didn’t intentionally keep anything from you,” he argued to Leah. “Besides, we are focusing on the wrong thing here—you have no faith.”
“What?” she screeched, almost coming out of her chair. “I have no faith? Ohmigod, I cannot believe you just said that! I had faith in you five years ago, and you dumped me!”
“Here we go,” Michael said, his head lolling back, his hands free now, needing only the right moment. “Same song, same verse. You dumped me, and therefore I must make everything as difficult as I possibly can.”
“How can you say that?” Leah cried, incredulous and so furious that she was hopping forward in her chair until Juan Carlo stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
“He says this because he is estúpido,” Juan Carlo said soothingly. “He is a man who—pardon for my language— thinks with his cock. Not his heart. A Spaniard thinks with his heart.”
“Thanks for your help, Juan Carlo, but I think I can handle this,” Michael said irritably.
“My friend, you do not understand the mind of a woman,” Juan Carlo pointed out as he strolled forward to look Michael in the eye. “A woman does not need the perfume and the expensive flowers. She needs to know how you feel,” he said, tapping his fingers against his heart.
Leah made a little sound of surprise at that, and both Juan Carlo and Michael looked at her. “He’s right,” she chirped, but her eyes were suddenly as big as saucers. Michael didn’t like the look of her wide eyes at all. She was up to something.
Juan Carlo smiled triumphantly and turned back to Michael. “You see?” he said proudly to Michael. “You must tell her how you feel with the small things. There is time for the big things later,” he added, just as Leah pulled her hand free and waved it at Michael, grinning broadly, clearly pleased with herself.
He didn’t so much as blink, but his whole body seized with fear. If she did something stupid, they would both be dead. Juan Carlo might not like guns, but he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use one. He barely spared her a glance.
“You must have a care for the heart,” Juan Carlo said, continuing to advise. “You are too careless with the feelings of others, amigo. As with me,” he said, gesturing grandly to himself. “We were friends. Compadres. I was very hurt by the spying and the seduction of my wife.”
“Whatever,” Michael said.
Juan Carlo abruptly turned around to Leah, who, thank God, had stuck her hand behind her back. “And you,” he said sternly, “must open your heart and learn to accept his mistakes. Yes, this is very wise. Perhaps I should write it,” he mused, and pulled the gun from his waistband and laid the nozzle thoughtfully alongside his nose, rubbing absently, considering it.
Michael noticed the rope was starting to slacken around Leah and made a slight motion with his head. She looked down and blinked, but grabbed it behind her back and made it taut again.
“I think,” Juan Carlo said, his eyes getting all squinty as he thought hard about it, “that you have been hurt in this life, Leah. Your heart has been broken, and it is not so easy to mend.”