Lorenzo looked amused. 'You don't look above twenty,' he remarked, and his glance lingered on her face for a moment before travelling down her slim body in a manner that made Ros blush furiously at her unbidden thought of how it would be to have his hands caress her instead of his eyes. She drained her sherry abruptly.
'I'm twenty-five,' she snapped. 'I think we'd better go.'
'Let's eat here first,' he suggested, and beckoned to a waiter. 'A quiet table for two, but more sherry first. The chicken with peppers is excellent, unless you fancy octopus,' he went on smoothly, and Ros, fuming at his despotic manner, found a most tempting menu in front of her.
*
They talked of Spain, comparing life there with England and America, both of which Lorenzo knew well, and after a while Ros ventured to mention the boating accident.
'How did you hear about that?'
'I think someone mentioned it this morning. What happened, and how were you hurt?' she asked.
'The sooner people stop gossiping about it the better. It was foolish and unnecessary. I was sailing to Minorca, there was a sudden squall, and a powerboat which had lost its engine was out of control and collided with me.'
'And then?'
'I was alone, fortunately. I'd been intending taking a young lad who worked with the band but he didn't turn up, so I went without him.'
Ros glanced at him suspiciously, but he didn't appear concerned. He clearly didn't know of her relationship with Tim.
'How were you rescued?'
'I wasn't, in that sense. It was only because I'm a strong swimmer that I made it to Minorca, but I landed on a small, deserted and almost inaccessible beach. By then it was dark and I was too exhausted to climb the cliffs until morning. They insisted on keeping me in hospital for several days, fearing either exposure or concussion, though I suffered neither.'
'How dreadful! But how fortunate for the boy. Was he very young? And why hadn't he come?' Ros asked breathlessly.
'I never knew. By the time I got back to the Castilla he'd left, without telling anyone where or why he was going. Not unusual behaviour for boys just out of school, but everyone was surprised he left his drums behind. He couldn't have gone to another job.'
'Didn't anyone try to find him?' Ros asked indignantly.
'Apparently there'd been a telephone call saying he was detained, and please could the hotel look after his equipment until he sent for it. Pablo was not pleased, you can imagine. Why are you interested?'
'It seems odd, that's all.'
'Yes. Have you finished? Would you like more coffee?'
She could not pursue it. He was obviously referring to Tim, but was he speaking the truth? Could she trust what he said? Had Tim really missed the appointment? And why was he on first name terms with the Manager? She was so shocked at what she'd heard she needed peace to think about it, and agreed quickly when Lorenzo suggested it was time to go.
Belatedly, as they walked to the car, she realised he had again paid the bill, had in fact paid for everything all day, but this restaurant had been expensive and exclusive. Her offer to share the bill evoked a haughty, surprised look from him, and for a while she feared he would expect another sort of payment when they reached the Castilla.
He seemed preoccupied also, and to her relief did no more than lift her hand to his lips as he halted the car under the hotel portico.
'I must see someone after I've garaged the car, about the music. Forgive me,' he said softly. 'Until tomorrow, my sweet, and a whole day together.'
*
Chapter 4
He leaned across to push open the car door and Ros caught a wave of spicy aftershave. Then she was out, Lorenzo driving towards the garages.
She was too restless to go to bed. After soaking in a warm, scented bath she slipped on a towelling robe, got out Tim's last letter, and sat with it in one of the deep leather armchairs.
He was enjoying his job. That much was clear from the enthusiastic manner in which he described various events. He'd been sailing once with Lorenzo, and it seemed he was somewhat in awe of the older man, flattered to be noticed by him, and determined to make a good impression in the hope that Lorenzo, presumably because he was a veteran itinerant musician, could help promote his career.
In the second part of the letter the meaning of his words became obscure, as he hinted at something exciting and probably dangerous he expected to happen soon. Now she thought she detected an edge of fear as well as excitement. He mentioned meeting new people without giving names, implied that one of them had passed on a dangerous secret, going sailing again but not saying whether this was with Lorenzo or alone, and some exciting news he hoped soon to tell her, coupled with stern warnings not to mention anything to anyone, let alone their mother, or he would be in deep trouble. Why and with whom was unclear. And, Ros had thought in exasperation at the time, she could hardly gossip about something as vague as the hints in his letter.
Ros was well aware of her brother's ability to swing violently between boyish enthusiasm when a sailing trip with an older man he admired was the summit of his ambition, and adult sophistication, or a blasé manner which he took to be that, when he would dismiss such matters as trivial childish pursuits. Which mood was he in when he mentioned possible danger? Was it real or exaggerated? Was he really afraid? Had he become involved in something too big for him to handle or was he just overexcited at being alone and independent for the first time in his life? Ros could not disentangle the hints and hopes. Nor could she determine whether Lorenzo was concerned in them.
Lorenzo caused her own moods to swing alarmingly. She was worried about Tim, yet he could cause her sudden bursts of amusement, and far too much of her attention was taken up with trying to read his motives for pursuing her so assiduously.
In the end she decided it was pointless worrying until she could discover more. She must find a way of asking Mandy about him, find out whether there had been the slightest hint of suspicious circumstances attached to the boating accident. If there were not, she must discount Tim's allusions to danger and trouble and make every effort to find him. She would have to admit her relationship with Tim and openly question the other staff who might have known the reason for his excitement.
She knew she still would not sleep. Tim's problems, whatever they were, had no bearing on her own confusion about Lorenzo. Why did he pay her so much attention? Was it simply the predatory male looking for another conquest? And why did she feel so vibrantly alive when she was with him, and when he touched her lost to all other considerations but gratification of the fierce desire which swept through her?
Firmly she tried to dismiss both men from her mind. She wrote a few postcards, then began to study her maps and guide books, sorting out the kaleidoscope of impressions, trying to match Tims postcards with locations, and making plans for visiting some of the places Tim had indicated.
It was hard to concentrate when Lorenzo's tantalising smile kept appearing before the pages, and she heard his deep voice coming through the words of the guides. Most of all she remembered that brief endearment as they parted. However, one of the coves was in the eastern corner of the island, where they were going the next day. With a satisfied sigh she saw that it was almost midnight, and she slipped into bed.
*
The next thing she knew was the shrilling of the telephone. She reached sleepily for the receiver. 'Hello?'
'Ros? It's ten to eight, I'll be with you in ten minutes, darling.'
The line went dead and she stared at the receiver blankly as memory flooded back. Lorenzo, murmuring endearments, and she was going to spend the whole day with him.
Ten minutes, she suddenly realised, and she was still lying in bed. Exactly nine minutes later, as a knock came at the chalet door, she was dressed in jeans, a bright yellow top, and an aran knit sweater. Dragging a comb through her curls she went to open the door.
'Thanks for calling me. I'll be ready in a couple of minutes,' she said, and stepped back hastily as Lore
nzo firmly entered the chalet. Did he look a mite disappointed to see her ready? He leaned negligently against the doorpost as she edged nervously away from him and grinned appreciatively.
She turned hastily towards the mirror, and as she finished her hair eyed him surreptitiously. He looked damnably, dangerously handsome. No wonder girls fell for him in droves. Well, she wouldn't be one of them! He wore tight fitting white jeans, and a silk scarlet polo-necked sweater which emphasised his broad shoulders and dark good looks.
'Don't worry, my love, it's hot coffee and breakfast I need right now,' he murmured, catching her glance in the mirror. She glared at him, exasperated. How was it he always read her mind so accurately?
She rapidly applied lip gloss, gathered up her purse and keys, and turned towards him.
'Ready.'
They walked in silence until they reached the hotel foyer, and suddenly he spoke.
'Why do you put that stuff on your lips?'
'Why shouldn't I?' she countered, bristling.
'Because in the first place you don't really need it, your lips are bright enough and enticing enough without, and in the second it's going to be inconvenient with me eating it several times a day. And although these colours have delicious sounding names like raspberry and peach I'm not sure if I like the taste.'
Ros gasped in amazement, but could not resist chuckling. They'd just reached the dining room, which prevented her from replying as vehemently as she'd have liked, so she bit her lip and walked across to her table. The abominable man, making such devastating remarks! And now he was calmly sitting down with her.
She saw Mandy eyeing them with interest, and wasn't surprised when the other girl stopped beside them on her way out a few minutes later. A short, carrotty haired man was with her, and she introduced him as Pete Jackson, her fellow courier. Veronica was in bed, Mandy said with a sigh, making the most of her day off.
'My turn in a couple of days, thank goodness,' she added with a grin. 'Where were you last night, Lorenzo? I thought it was the band's night on.'
'They can do without me occasionally,' he said carelessly, pouring coffee for Ros and himself, then picking up a couple of envelopes the waiter had put beside his plate.
'If the waiters and the Manager were all women I could understand it,' Pete commented with a wink at Ros. 'The rest of us daren't be a minute late before Mendez is howling for our blood, and we all have to collect our own mail, but Lorenzo here has them all running round him like lapdogs, and even takes a day off without notice and the heavens don't fall on him.'
Lorenzo had been glancing through his letters, both of them typed and on business notepaper, Ros noted. He folded them, slipped them back into the envelopes and then grinned at Pete.
'You're jealous of my irresistable Latin charm,' he said provocatively.
'Well, it's only supposed to work on women,' Mandy pointed out. 'You didn't get back either, Ros. Veronica was wondering if you were OK.'
'I – stayed rather late in Palma and had dinner there,' Ros replied after a moment, carefully not looking at Lorenzo, and reluctant to tell Mandy she'd been with him. She had the impression the other girl fancied him, and for all she knew they might well have been close before she came. She'd no wish to arouse jealousy and create problems, as she had no intention of falling for his Latin charm herself.
Or to be truthful, she hoped she wouldn't, although the way he invaded her thoughts cast doubt on this.
The others departed, and Lorenzo stood up.
'I must make a couple of phone calls, Ros,' he said. 'I've ordered picnic lunches, and the things will be in the main office. Could you collect them and meet me in the foyer in ten minutes?'
*
After another cup of coffee Ros followed him and found the a large hamper waiting for her. When he reappeared the Manager, Senor Mendez was with him, and they spent a few moments talking quietly together, the Manager nodding his head several times.
'Don't worry, Pablo. We'll find them soon, I'm sure.'
He came across to Ros, took the hamper from her and led the way out to the car already waiting by the steps.
They circled the enormous bay through Palma and El Arenal, then drove along narrow lanes, many edged with rough stone walls, towards higher, bleaker ground where trees were permanently bent by the constant wind.
'The most popular coves are further along the east coast, but first I'll show you Capicorp Vey. It's an ancient settlement, a thousand years older than the Roman ones, but has only been properly excavated in the last century.'
The ruins were in the middle of nowhere, a collection of drystone walls amongst which rooms were recognisable, and towers called tayalots. Lorenzo bought a guide book in Spanish, telling Ros it had more details than the English one, and they read parts of it as they wandered about amongst the walls, and climbed one of the towers.
'They might have been lookouts but no one knows for certain. Keep the book, I've another at home, but I always forget to bring it,' Lorenzo suggested. 'Now let's go and find somewhere more sheltered for lunch, the wind's cold today.'
They visited several small villages and holiday developments along the coast, and eventually Lorenzo pulled off the road and pointed to a small sandy cove below them. It was one of the ones Tim had marked.
'It's a steep climb, but worth it. Can you manage the rug if I bring the hamper?'
There were a few houses on top of the cliffs, and several boats moored beside a jetty. The path was steep but obviously used frequently, and in the worst parts rough steps had been hewn to make the climb easier. At the foot Lorenzo led the way to a flat rock which formed a natural table. He took a bottle of wine from the hamper and sank it in the pool beside the rock.
Ros looked round. Yes, it would be perfectly possible to land cargo here if one wanted to smuggle drugs. They could moor outside if the boat was too large to come into the cove, and bring in such a small cargo by dinghy. She wondered if one of the clifftop houses was involved, whether they stored the drugs there. They'd need someone with a car. Or perhaps another boat collected it and took it on to France. She really didn't know how the drug barons organised their operations.
She couldn't do it now, but soon she'd return and have a closer look at the boats and houses. Sighing, for she was no further forward, she bent to dabble her hand in the water and gasped.
'It's much colder than I expected.'
'Then you won't want to swim?' he teased.
'In mid-summer I might. Was it as cold as this when your boat was wrecked? It's a wonder you didn't freeze to death.'
'No, the water is still quite warm in October and November.
Lorenzo had been unpacking the hamper. Ros began to help. There were chicken joints, ham, huge tomatoes, hard boiled eggs with tiny sachets of salt and pepper, rolls, small tubs of butter, and Mahonese cheese from the sister island of Minorca. There was also a tin of tomato juice, a selection of fruit including gigantic oranges, and a flask of coffee.
'There's far too much for just the two of us,' she said, sitting back on her heels and laughing up at him.
'The birds will appreciate what we don't. I don't suppose they included Worcester sauce,' he added, eyeing the tomato juice suspiciously.
'It's already flavoured, according to the label.'
They chatted companionably as they ate, and drank the whole bottle of wine, which Ros saw was an expensive French Beaujolais. She wondered if this was the normal picnic lunch the Castilla provided for its guests, or whether Lorenzo had ordered special food and wine. If so, why? Did he want to impress her, or was he, with his expensive clothes, simply used to good quality?
'I've missed Californian oranges, and really fresh juice in England,' Ros sighed wistfully as she licked her sticky fingers. 'I'll have to brave the freezing water to wash this off!'
*
She started to get up but Lorenzo, who had thrown himself full length after he'd finished eating, reached across and took her hand, unbalancing her so that she fell bac
k onto the rug beside him. Holding her gaze he slowly ran his tongue over the tips of her fingers. Ros couldn't look away, and little tingling shocks ran along her spine. For heaven's sake, she was thinking incoherently, what's happening to me? He's hardly touching me, and I'm reduced to a feeble, mindless jelly.
Then, excrutiatingly slowly, Lorenzo's tongue travelled along her fingers, between them, round them, tantalising, sending quivers of flame shooting up her arm and all over her body. Suddenly his lips fluttered across the inside of her wrist and Ros jerked, pulling away her hand.
He grinned at her. 'Relax, my love, I won't hurt you!'
'That's what they all say!' Ros exclaimed, cynicism and a touch of fear at the strength of her own physical response, a yearning she had never before experienced, overcoming the spell he'd woven.
He laughed, unrepentant.
'I can't tempt you to forget the rest of this trip and come with me to my castle in the mountains instead?'
'Oh, for heaven's sake!' she exclaimed. 'How corny!'
'Then go and wash away the nectar, my enchanting Rose, from your soft petals. You see, I can be even cornier when I try,' he added, releasing her hand and turning to begin repacking the hamper.
Shivering even before she dipped her hands in the cold water, Ros wondered if she'd offended him by her outspoken remark. She had been really frightened for a moment, more of herself than of him, for she knew she'd have been incapable of resisting him if he'd gone on making love to her. He had the strangest effect. The slightest physical contact sent her senses whirling, and even the corniest of compliments sounded sincere in his velvety tones.
When she turned back she was relieved to see him climbing up the path. She hurried after him and got into the car without speaking.
He seemed unruffled, as if nothing had happened, and was brisk and businesslike as they visited more coves, then the old fortress Castillo de Sanctuari which guarded the eastern end of the island, and the nearby Sanctuario de San Salvador from where they could see the high mountains of the north and the bays of Alcudia and Pollensa.
Island Quest Page 4