As they danced, the scent of her perfume filled his senses. Jasmine, he thought. He felt his body reacting to the nearness of her. He suddenly pressed himself hard against her, holding her tightly to him, leaving her in no doubt whatsoever of the intensity of his pleasure.
She pulled back, surprised at his forcefulness. As he continued dancing with her, alternately turning and holding her, he did not see the other man setting now at the table, in conversation with the first man, who got up and came towards them on the dance floor.
Delgado bowed politely to her and walked off the dance floor, back towards Velasquez and Zamorra. He lifted the money of the table. “Mine, I believe?” he smiled. “She was – beautiful – ahh!” he again felt his pleasure increasing as he relived the moments with her in his arms. “But now, it is time to go, my friends. I have work in the morning, regretfully! But I will return here, soon. Do you know the lady’s name? I never asked her!”
“Gilda, it’s Gilda, the wife of the owner of this establishment!” replied Zamorra.
“Gilda! What a beautiful name! Gilda.” He let the name roll on his tongue like a sweet wine. “Goodnight, my friends, it has been a most enjoyable and profitable evening after all! Hasta la vista!” and, swinging on his cloak with a flowing movement, he left the club.
---oo0oo---
Outside, the cool night air calmed his ardour, but he was still slightly intoxicated, both from the drink he had consumed and from his heady experience with the beautiful Gilda. Wrapping his cloak around him, he lit a cigarette and walked down the street in the direction of his apartment.
---oo0oo---
Back inside the club, Gilda’s husband summoned his two bodyguards to him. With an indication of his finger, he whispered in the first man’s ear. “The man who danced with my wife – ensure that it does not happen again!”
The two men left the club.
---oo0oo---
