Chapter Five“Still sulking?” Doña Alcira asked in her soft sensuous voice.
There was no reply for the moment from the man standing in front of the mirror.
He was admiring his broad shoulders and narrow hips, his small waist and dark clear-cut features which, as well as his skill, had made him ‘Miajado the Magnificent’, the most admired and acclaimed matador in all Spain.
Doña Alcira shrugged her shoulders. Her body was like carved ivory against the exquisitely embroidered cushions and covers of the low couch.
Then she threw her arms behind her dark head with a little derisive laugh.
“So you are angry with me?”
Miajado turned round.
“Angry? Of course I am angry. What did you expect? Am I just a plaything to be used and tossed aside? Who is this Englishman everyone is talking about? W
