She nodded. ‘I went out like a light. I think it must be the—’ Her forehead creased.
He frowned. ‘What is it?’
‘I just thought of a name for one of the rums.’
Watching her pupils flare, he felt his blood grow lighter. She was genuinely excited.
‘Diabolito—you know...?’
‘The pirate.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I like it.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, I do—and, what’s more, I’ve just thought of a name for the other one.’ His stomach flipped with a rush of anticipation more intense than any skydive. ‘What do you think of Mariposa?’
Her smoky eyes widened and a flush of colour spread over her cheeks. ‘I think it’s beautiful,’ she said shakily.
For a moment they stared at one another, and then she glanced over his shoulder and frowned again.
‘Have we stopped?’
He grinned. ‘Spoken like a true sailor. It’s called dropping anchor—and, yes, we have. I thought maybe we could do a little snorkelling.’
The look of surprise on her face made his grin widen.
‘Boring fact—Cuba has the second largest reef in the world after the Great Barrier Reef.’
And exploring it with Kitty would be fun. The fact that it would delay their return to Havana was of course just coincidental.
He could see the longing in her eyes, but she started to shake her head. ‘I don’t actually know how to.’
‘It’s easy.’ He took her hand. ‘I promise. All you have to do is breathe. You’ll be great.’
‘Will I?’
Her grey eyes looked almost silver in the sunlight, and her expression was so open and trusting that it hurt him to look at her.
‘Of course—and I’ll be right there beside you.’ He pointed across the deck. ‘All you need is a mask and a snorkel and some flippers. Try the orange ones—they’re a little smaller.’
His heart was thumping against his ribs. The idea had come to him while she was sleeping and now, watching her pick up a pair of flippers, he felt stupidly excited. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to be the one to introduce Kitty to the undersea world.
No, that wasn’t true. He did know why. She’d had such a terrible time. She’d known heartbreak and loss and he wanted to see her happy. He wanted to make her happy. And this would be something special just between them.
Turning, he walked over to where Kitty was standing. She had her back to him, her head tilted to one side, and the hem of his shirt was riding high on her thighs as she gazed abstractedly at a face mask.
He stood for a moment and admired the flaring curve of her bottom, and then his gaze stilled as she rotated her hand and he watched her small, delicate fingers cup and caress the mask. Her touch was light, almost reverent, and he felt his felt his body stir, the blood starting to pound hot and fast as he remembered how she had touched him in the same way but for another, more intimate reason just a few hours ago.
‘Ready?’ he called.
She turned and, smiling shyly, she nodded.
As they swam side by side he felt both incredibly protective and captivated by Kitty’s wide-eyed excitement. It had been such a long time since he’d allowed himself to be so open, but with her it was easy—not just to reveal his own pleasure but to enjoy hers. And there was a rainbow of reef life to enjoy in the warm, clear waters: yellow and blue angelfish, coral-coloured parrotfish and zebra-striped spadefish. It was as though the sea had decided to put on a cabaret.
And Kitty looked enchanted.
* * *
‘I never thought it would be like that,’ she said as they enjoyed lunch on deck. ‘I thought it would be dark and gloomy and that all the fish would be scared of us. But they’re not.’
He smiled. He couldn’t imagine anything being scared of Kitty. ‘It’s because they’re still not that used to divers. Probably because it’s on our doorstep, Cubans themselves don’t bother with diving that much.’
‘What’s it like if you go deeper?’
He grinned. ‘Cold! That’s why you wear a wetsuit. But it’s amazing—like a whole new world you didn’t even know existed.’
She shivered. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’
Watching her face, he felt his throat tighten. He felt like a tuning fork. Everything she was feeling seemed to resonate through him too, so that her happiness was his happiness, her pain became his pain. It was a strange, unsettling sensation, and even though he couldn’t give a name to it he knew it was dangerous.
His heart began to beat faster. There were safer ways of seeking danger.
He glanced past her at the still sea. ‘Actually, there’s a wreck just along the coast from here, and as we’re in the area I thought I might go take a look.’
‘On your own?’
He heard and ignored the confusion in her voice. He’d solo-dived before. It was a more risky than diving in a group, but right now that was what he needed. He shrugged. ‘Even if you weren’t pregnant, it wouldn’t be safe for a first deep dive.’ He hesitated. ‘I don’t have to go...’
‘No, it’s fine. I want you to go.’ She gave him a quick, tight smile. ‘Really.’
They anchored twenty minutes later.
The coastline was more rugged here, and the water was choppier, and he could see from Kitty’s expression that she was having second thoughts.
‘I’ll be fine.’ Taking her hands, he pulled her against him and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘I know what I’m doing. I’ve done a lot of dives and this is pretty shallow.’
‘How long will you be?’
‘Forty minutes?’ He glanced at her face, then at his watch. ‘I’ll be back up in half an hour.’
He was desperate to go. Desperate to prove that this was what his life had been lacking. This rush of exhilaration—part fear, part anticipation. Kitty might be captivating in so many ways, but this was what made his pulse race.
Holding his mask and regulator in place with his palm, he stepped off the side of the yacht into the water.
* * *
Watching him disappear beneath the waves, Kitty felt her chest tighten. It was stupid to feel so tense. He knew what he was doing.
She took a breath. It was only half an hour. Thirty short minutes. Shorter than the time it took her to wash and dry her hair.
She glanced down at her phone, at the timer she’d set as he jumped into the water. Twenty-five minutes now.
There was no point in worrying. There wasn’t anything she could do if something went wrong down there. But it made her feel dizzy just thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
Life wasn’t kind or fair—she knew that—and the ocean was a cruel place. But César was an experienced diver, and the sea had been kind to her.
Thinking back to how a group of beautiful angelfish had swum right up to her mask, she smiled. They had been so gentle, so curious, and the warm water had felt incredibly relaxing and safe. Her stomach gave a little flip. That was what it must be like for their baby.
Resting her hand against the slight curve of her belly, she glanced down at the timer and breathed out slowly. Only ten minutes to go now.
Which was just enough time for her to take a few pictures to send to Lizzie.
She was reading her sister’s response to the photos when the timer went off.
Feeling a rush of relief, she made her way to the swim platform. She stood gazing down at the water, her heartbeat filling her head. Where was he?
She glanced down at her phone. He was five minutes later than he’d said he would be.
Her heartbeat sped up. An ache was spreading out from her heart—an ache she remembered, an ache she had never wanted to feel again. She glanced back at the phone. Now he was eight minutes late.
Did he have enough oxygen?
A hot and slippery panic was crawling over her skin. She felt sick and scared.
What if something had happened to him?
The thought was unbearable.
It hurt like an actual physical pain, as though a crack was opening up inside her. But why did it hurt so badly? It was completely disproportionate, excessive, unreasonable, and it didn’t make any sense. They barely knew one other and they weren’t even a ‘real’ couple.
She thought back to the lunch party, and to the way her eyes had met his along the length of the table.
No, it didn’t make any sense, unless—
Unless she loved him.
She breathed out unsteadily. Her heart felt as though it was about to burst out of her chest and her whole body was vibrating with shock and acceptance and joy at her silent admission.
But of course she loved him.
Every thought, every action, every feeling she had led back to him. Even when he wasn’t there she could conjure him up, fully formed, inside her head.
Only how had it happened? She had never expected to feel this way again. She’d thought that life had given and then taken away everything it had to give. But then this man had stepped into her path—or rather she had stepped into his—and now she could feel love and hope working through her veins as she gazed down at the sea.
And then, just like that, he was there, bursting through the surface of the water, his dark hair sleek against his head. As he pulled himself up onto the platform the blood seemed to drain from her body with relief.
His eyes, so green, so familiar, so necessary, locked with hers. ‘What is it? Did something happen?’
She hesitated. Really though, what could she say? Yes, I just realised I love you.
She wasn’t feeling that brave right now.
‘You’re late.’
‘I know.’
He pulled her against him, and the chill of his usually warm body was a shock.
‘I was under the boat and I noticed a couple of dents in the hull.’ His hand tightened in her hair. ‘I just wanted to check them out.’
His voice was tense, distant, as though he was still beneath the water.
She nodded. She felt exhausted. But he was alive, and he was here, and that was all that mattered.
* * *
They reached Havana by mid-evening.
As they followed the inevitable traffic diversion through the centre César had to grip the edge of his seat to stop himself knocking on the glass behind Rodolfo’s head and asking him to take them back to the boat.
After the peace and isolation of the plantation the city felt incredibly loud and bright, and maybe Kitty felt the same, he thought as they headed back to the estate. She had been quiet in the car. In fact, she’d been quiet since the dive.
Later, she was quiet during dinner too. But maybe it wasn’t just bodies that needed to decompress after a dive. Perhaps emotionally it was hard to adjust to ordinary life when moments earlier you’d been in a thrilling underwater world.
‘If you like we could take the boat out next weekend. There’s a nature reserve just up the coast with turtles and stingrays. Sometimes even manatees.’
She stared up at him, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. ‘That would be lovely.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry that you didn’t get longer in the water.’
‘It’s fine.’
His heart clenched as he thought back to the dive, to the moment when he’d realised that something was wrong. Tension had been building in his chest, his blood pulsing inside his head, and at first he’d thought it was his mouthpiece. But of course it hadn’t been.
She bit her lip. ‘You didn’t say much about it.’
He frowned, then rubbed a hand over his face. ‘It was different from usual.’
‘In what way?’
His heart was thumping now. The tension was back. Earlier, in the water, he’d forced himself to go deeper, to do what he always did, what he’d always done—flee the feeling. Only this time he hadn’t run, he’d swum.
But the feeling had stayed with him. And there, in the shifting currents of the Atlantic, he’d realised that it didn’t matter how far he swam. For years now he’d kept pushing his body to the limit—diving, climbing, base-jumping—always seeking the next thrill, constantly needing to go deeper, faster, higher. Only for the first time he had asked himself why?
Could it be that all those physical challenges were just an attempt to fill a void? The void left by his decision not to pursue the normal goals of adult life—marriage, falling in love, having a family?
If so, then they were no longer necessary.
He’d reached the wreck and then, using the currents, made his way over and around it, trying to escape the pressure in his chest, choosing not to give it a name.
Now, though, with her beautiful, serious grey eyes on his face, he didn’t want to escape, and he was tired of fleeing.
Reaching out, he took her hand. ‘Look, Kitty. I don’t know how to say this—’
She stared at him, her fingers stiffening.
‘So I’m just going to start at the beginning and carry on to the end.’
‘Okay,’ she whispered.
‘I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, and I tried to stay away only I couldn’t. So I came back. And then you told me you were pregnant, and I wanted to be there for the baby, so I asked you to marry me. But I didn’t love you.’
‘I know.’ Her eyes were wide and bright. ‘I know how you feel, César.’
His grip tightened around her hand. ‘Only today, when I went down to the wreck, I kept expecting to feel how I usually do. A little bit nervous, maybe, and excited. But I didn’t.’
His mouth twisted.
‘The whole dive just didn’t feel right. I kept thinking something was missing. And then I realised...’ He paused. ‘I realised that it was you. I missed you, and what I was feeling was loneliness. I told myself I was being stupid, that it was the dive talking. Only when I got out of the water I felt better. I felt whole again.’
She cleared her throat. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that I still want to marry you.’ He let out a shaky breath. ‘But this time it’s because I love you.’
‘You love me?’ For a moment she stared at him blankly, and then slowly she withdrew her hand from his.
Striving for calm, he opened his mouth—but his words stayed unspoken as she started to shake her head.
‘But I never asked for your love and I don’t need it. I don’t want it.’
‘Kitty—’
He reached across the table, but she jerked backwards.
Still shaking her head, she got to her feet, scraping her chair across the floor. ‘I’m sorry, César, but I don’t love you.’
The chair fell backwards, and as it hit the floor he watched, heart hammering, body frozen, as she turned and ran from the room.
CHAPTER TEN
KITTY MOVED BLINDLY through the house, the lie echoing inside her head. Her heart was racing, her blood pounding incessantly.
He loved her and she loved him.
So why had she turned and run from him?
But that question didn’t need answering.
She thought back to when she’d been waiting for him on the boat.
Waiting.
Worrying.
Hurting.
She stopped at the bottom of the staircase, blinking furiously.
Earlier, when she’d realised that she loved César, it had been a shock. For years she had lived believing that she would never love again. She’d shut down that part of her life. And then she’d moved here to Cuba, and suddenly there had been César, and now she was pregnant, and her world had started to grow warm again, and the ice around her heart had begun to melt.
It had felt exciting, pictur
ing the two of them together, but now she could see that she had just tricked herself into thinking she had moved on and was ready for love.
She wasn’t.
All she’d been doing was painting a picture in her head of a fantasy of love in a faraway place with a tall, dark, handsome stranger who made her heart beat faster.
César telling her that he loved her had made it real.
Too real.
She couldn’t breathe.
Fantasy love didn’t hurt, but real love did—because real love had to exist in the real world, where life was cruel and random. And that was why she had to leave now.
Her feet were moving of their own accord, up the stairs and into her bedroom. If she stayed, she wouldn’t be able to resist him; she didn’t want to resist him. But she couldn’t love a man who lived the way he did. He was a risk-taker, and loving him would mean accepting she could lose him, and that was a risk she couldn’t take—a pain she didn’t ever want to feel again.
Only it hurt so much to think that she was going to have to leave.
Trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over, she found her suitcase and began grabbing handfuls of her clothes. It was the only way.
‘What are you doing?’
César’s voice broke into the tumult of her thoughts. Her heart froze. She hadn’t expected César to follow her. Why would he when she’d so inexplicably thrown his love back in his face?
Watching the light in his beautiful green eyes dim, she had wanted to take his hand and retract her words, to go to him and pull him close. But she had no right to do any of those things—not now, not ever—and the pain of knowing that, and of knowing that one day another woman would cradle his head in her lap, comfort him at the end of a long day, was her penance. It was necessary and right.
Only now he was here.
‘I’m packing. I need to go home.’
‘To England?’
The bruise in his voice wrenched at something inside her and, gripping the handle of her suitcase, she felt a tear slide down her cheek.
Consequences of a Hot Havana Night Page 15