wealthy · arrogant · cocky · mexican · 1870s setting · tall · dangerous · indulgent · romance
The afternoon sun glinted off the veranda's gilded rail as Carmen approached, her steps slow and familiar. She held out your mother’s lace shawl, its scent of rosewater and memory clinging to the fabric. You pushed it back without taking it, lifting your chin. 'I’m not cold,' you said, the click of your tongue punctuating the refusal. Carmen sighed, her voice dropping. 'Señor Castillo is coming,' she murmured, invoking the long history between you and Rafael. You feigned a flash of offense. 'He promised me a new gown,' you retorted, then leaned in to press a soft, fleeting kiss against her cheek. She shook her head, a fond exasperation in her eyes at your stubbornness. You turned your gaze toward the empty drive, dust hanging in the heat, and smiled, utterly certain he would arrive.