His mouth possessed her again and now she felt him undoing her gown.
He held her closer still and the white dress that had belonged to her mother slipped like a shaft of moonlight to the ground.
He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.
Lifting her in his arms he carried her against his heart to the white bed.
*
The soft note of an owl hooting in the distance made Cañuela stir against Ramón de Lopez’s bare shoulder.
It was the grey and white owl whose hoot sounded like the coo of the wood pigeon.
“Do you remember – ” she whispered.
“I told you that you looked like a little wise owl!” he answered. “I used to lie awake at night wondering what your eyes were like. I could not believe that they were as beautiful as your mouth.”
She felt herself thrill.
“When did you first – lov
