She'd also thought he had low morals, indulging in an affair with a married woman in the form of Natalie. A woman she'd thought belonged to his brother! And when that little misunderstanding had been cleared up, she'd still assumed he was a womaniser, but that couldn't be farther from the truth either. It was clear he had no time for relationships, and his life was too complicated to accommodate one. Her heart sank a little at that thought, but she brushed the feeling aside. She didn't want one either, did she? So why did it matter?
He stirred under her, and she lifted her head to look at him. Still dopey, he gave her a lopsided smile, and her heart stuttered for a moment. She sat up to allow him to do the same. Smiling at his hair, ruffled and full of sand, she reached across to brush it out for him.
"Right. Sea," he declared, standing up.
"What?"
"We're on the beach, aren't we? That means we have to go in the sea." He winked as he tugged her to her feet. "It's the law."
She raised her eyebrows. "You do know that's the Atlantic, right?"
"So?"
"It's cold, Daniel, even in summer."
"We won't go all the way in, then."
Not sure whether she trusted him, Laura allowed him to take her hand and lead her to the water. When she was thigh-deep, she stopped.
"That's far enough for me," she declared. "You want to catch pneumonia, you go ahead."
Shrugging, Daniel launched himself fully into the water, let out a girly shriek that made Laura laugh, then swam off, leaving her to enjoy the cool water on her legs, the sun on her face, and the view of the beach from the water.
He reappeared a few minutes later. "I take it you'd seriously sulk if I pulled you in?" he asked, laughing as she merely narrowed her eyes at the suggestion.
"Okay." He kissed the tip of her nose. "You're right. It's freezing."
She watched him make his way out of the sea, water dripping from his hair and torso, and waited for an almost painful stab of desire to pass before she followed suit. Maybe the beach hadn't been such a good idea after all.
Towel-dried, they sat in the sand to allow the sun to finish the job. The beach was pleasantly busy but not too crowded, and Laura happily did a little people watching.
"Look at those two," Daniel said, nodding at an ancient couple walking past them. The man had his trousers rolled up to his knees, a cap perched jauntily on his head. His wife, her hair steel-grey and firmly fixed in a tight bun that was impervious to the breeze from the sea, had hitched her skirt and tucked it into presumably copious and sturdy underwear. They tottered to the water's edge, hand in hand, like a sketch from a cartoon.
"How sweet is that?" Daniel murmured.
Laura gave him a sidelong glance, but he was following the couple's progress intently as they dipped toes into the water, then braved ankles.
"I wouldn't mind that," he went on, almost to himself. "To still be holding hands with someone at that age."
Completely fazed by his mood, Laura tried to joke him out of it. "Yes, well, not all couples live in perfect harmony for decades."
"You shouldn't allow yourself to be biased by what happened to your parents," Daniel chided.
Laura snorted. "You sound just like Maria! Besides, what would you know about it?" She bit her lip in immediate remorse. "I'm sorry."
"What for? You're right." He took his phone from where it was carefully rolled in a towel, aimed and clicked.
"You're taking a photo now?"
"Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of what's important in life." He indicated the couple still paddling in the sea. "That's Ben and Becky in fifty years' time, if they're lucky."
Laura gave him a puzzled look. "I never knew you were so sentimental!"
Daniel shrugged. "Neither did I."
****
The next morning, Laura felt decidedly under the weather as she worked her way through her tasks in reception. She wondered if she'd had too much sun yesterday, falling asleep on the beach like that. Or maybe she'd eaten a bad clam or something in the fish stew. It hadn't helped that she'd endured yet another motherly interrogation by Maria at dinner last night about her day with Daniel, and then tossed and turned half the night because she didn't feel too well.
Whatever the cause, she felt tired, sick, and headachy, and the thought of another busy day with Daniel suddenly seemed more like an obstacle to be climbed than a joy. And yet the idea of telling him she didn't feel well enough to go barely entered her head.
He arrived soon after ten, sat in his usual chair, waited patiently for her to finish with a guest, then began to take her through the day's schedule. It seemed they'd had a light day yesterday – today was going to be busy. As he talked, she tried to take in what he was saying, but her head felt fuzzy. All she could hear was the deep timbre of his voice; all she could see was his kissable lips moving in his handsome face.
There was a roaring in her ears as she stared at him, her violet eyes wide, and then it was like a fog had lifted, and all the whirlpools of emotions and unfamiliar feelings that had swamped her in recent days came together. The way he enraged her half the time. The need and longing whenever he was near. Feeling so desperately hurt when he'd thought their kiss had been cold and calculating. Her surprising jealousy over Natalie. The sinking feeling she got whenever she reminded herself he had no time to get involved with anyone. It all made sudden, perfect sense.
She was in love with him.
She loved the way his eyes shimmered like the surface of a deep blue lake when he smiled, the set of his jaw when he was irritated, the way he kissed her. She even loved his stubbornness, his determination to have his own way, because she'd seen the other side too—the side that was caring and loyal. A man who had stayed with her for hours at the hospital when she needed him, and then had risen early after hardly any sleep to provide a taxi service to a woman he barely knew so she could visit her sick husband. A man who put his brother and his family above his own needs and wants.
But as she stared at him now, the clarity and relief that she finally had some explanation for her mixed-up emotions was gradually overtaken by a slow realisation of hopelessness. To love Daniel would be futile. Hadn't he said long-term relationships were no good for him? Tears pricked at her eyes, and it took all her force of will to stop them falling.
"Laura? Are you alright?" Daniel stood up, and there was urgent concern in his voice.
Laura fought to regain some composure. "I'm fine, thank you," she mumbled.
"You're sure? You don't look well."
She thought about the roiling in her stomach, the pounding in her head. Why was it so hot in here?
"No, I don't . . . I don't feel so good." Standing, she started around the desk, but the room spun. She tried to focus on Daniel, but as she moved forward, the walls closed in and the floor came up to meet her.
****
Daniel had never been so shaken in his life. Laura had just collapsed in a dead faint at his feet. It was the kind of thing you saw in movies, as was the switch to slow motion as his numb limbs moved forward to catch her before she smacked her head on the desk or the floor on the way down. He only just made it.
She wasn't out long, but when she came round she was pale, clammy and hot, and she wasn't making much sense. Cradling her head on his lap where he knelt on the floor, he reached for the phone, punched the button labelled "casa," and gabbled at Maria in Spanish until she put Teresa on so he could explain in English. Both were in reception with him in less than a minute.
Daniel lifted Laura like a rag doll and carried her to her room, where Maria helped him make her comfortable on the bed. She was awake but her eyes were glazed. Teresa came down a few moments later, having phoned their doctor friend. He would be with them in an hour or so, she said, as soon as he finished his morning surgery. He didn't think it sounded like there was any need for an ambulance.
Maria efficiently applied cold cloths to Laura's forehead, and after a few minutes she looked a little more human, m
uch to Daniel's relief.
"Your meeting!" was the first coherent thing she said. "You'll be late!"
"Then I'll be late," Daniel told her gruffly.
"I feel so stupid," she said, smiling wanly. "I'll be fine. I just had a little too much sun yesterday, or maybe I ate something. Maria and Teresa will take care of me. You need to go."
Daniel didn't want to leave her, but the idea that she was causing him inconvenience seemed to be making her more stressed than she needed right now. In the end, he acquiesced—but only after making Teresa promise to ring him on his mobile the minute the doctor had given his verdict.
He got to his first meeting ten minutes late, apologising profusely, and when it was done, he cancelled the rest. His mind wasn't on the job at hand. Laura was probably right about the sun, maybe the food—although he hadn't had any problems with it—but he needed to get back and see for himself that she was okay. Teresa called him as he was about to set off to tell him the doctor had prescribed minimal plain food and plenty of rest for the remainder of the day. Daniel told her he was on his way and that he would ensure Laura rested if Teresa took over her evening stint in reception.
As he drove, he pushed questions as to why he was doing this to the back of his mind. He'd cancelled a meeting yesterday just to spend time with her. And now he'd cancelled two more to sit by her side when he knew Maria and Teresa could take care of her perfectly well.
Daniel told himself the two women were busy enough running a business; that he would be helping them out. Besides, he had a ton of work and planning to do before he went south to Porto in a couple of days' time. An afternoon catching up wouldn't be such a bad thing for his own sake.
When he reached the hotel, he fetched his laptop and briefcase from his room and took them next door to Laura's. She was fast asleep, watched over by Maria, whose face was etched with worry lines. Dismissing her involved a great deal of gesturing and whispered multilingual arguing—and a painfully knowing look from her when she gave in.
Finally, he had peace. He opened the window to let more air into the room, settled himself in the armchair, spread out his papers on side tables around him, and tried to occupy himself with work. Not an easy task when his head was filled with worry for the woman sleeping just feet from him in her bed.
Chapter Nineteen
Laura woke mid-afternoon feeling groggy but much better, although it startled her to see Daniel, not Maria, sitting in her armchair. As she came round, she felt pretty fuzzy about what was going on, but she certainly wasn't fuzzy about her newly realised feelings for him. They hit her like a steam train the minute she surfaced from sleep.
"What have you done with Maria?" she asked him crossly.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "She had plenty to do. So did I, but I could do mine here."
Laura took in his scattered papers and laptop. "That was kind of you," she said grudgingly. She struggled to sit up a little, realising too late she had a nightshirt on, and clutched at the sheets.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "For goodness' sake, Laura, I've seen you in a bikini. A nightshirt is hardly any more risqué!"
He was right. Laura gave up and allowed the sheet to drop. It was too hot to bother. She frowned as a dreadful thought crossed her mind. "You weren't . . . you didn't . . .?"
Shaking his head, he walked across to her. "Maria and Teresa must have undressed you while I was out."
She nodded. "Okay. Good."
He handed her a glass of water. "Keep sipping. The doc thinks you may be a little dehydrated."
Laura frowned. She wasn't quite sure what had happened. She remembered feeling unwell and then . . . "Did I faint?"
Daniel gave her a lopsided smile. "Yes, you did. Gave me the fright of my life! You're lucky I caught you—you nearly smashed your head on the desk on the way down." He frowned. "Good job I was there, actually. You could have been lying there for hours."
Laura's eyes grew wide. "Oh. Well. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He perched on the edge of her bed. "How are you feeling now?"
"Better, I think. Just tired." She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "Daniel! Your meetings!"
"Don't worry about them."
"You cancelled? You shouldn't have!"
"I'm the boss—I can do what I like, remember? I went to the first one, since you made such a fuss about it, but to be honest, I had plenty to do here anyway. You provided me with a solid excuse."
Laura's lips twitched. "Glad to be of service." But she didn't quite believe him.
He patted her hand. "Shall I go up to the house and get you some lemon tea or something?"
She nodded. "That would be good. Thanks." Anything to get him out of the room for a minute. She needed to think.
He rose from the bed and headed to the door. "Behave!" he ordered as he left.
Laura clambered out of bed. Her legs were a little wobbly, but her stomach felt more empty than queasy. Thank goodness she hadn't thrown up—fainting was undignified enough! The headache was still there, but she could live with that.
When she'd washed her face, glared at the state of it in the mirror, and brushed her hair and teeth, she got back into bed, knees pulled up to her chin.
Daniel had cancelled his meetings to stay by her bedside. What did that mean? That he was worried about her was obvious and not unreasonable for a friend, but she wasn't sure she dared hope he had feelings for her beyond that. For all she knew, she had just provided him with a good excuse to get on with some work.
He returned with a tray of lemon tea and an array of plain biscuits, crackers, and grapes for her to nibble on, placing it on her lap and returning to his chair with a cup of tea for himself.
"What are you working on?" she asked, curious about the scribbled notes scattered around him.
Daniel sighed. "When a client books a holiday with us, we provide an information pack tailored specifically for them and the places they plan to go," he explained. "Tourist info, practical stuff, along with some personal experiences and descriptions of places, recommendations for trips and places to eat, so they know we've been to that area. A lot of it is available on the Internet, of course, but they like to have it handed to them on a plate, so to speak—the personal touch. So when I visit somewhere, I draft what I can, then Natalie pulls it all together with facts from the Internet, keeps it updated, and puts together a relevant pack to send to clients a few weeks before their trip."
"I had no idea." No wonder he was tired: travelling, meetings, business deals, and a personal travelogue to compose.
He shrugged. "It's part of the business."
"So, what did you have planned for tomorrow?" she asked, painfully reminded he would be leaving the day after that.
"I have a lunchtime meeting at a hotel near Barcelos. I thought I ought to go to the Thursday market in the morning. I gather it's quite a sight?"
Laura nodded and took a sip of tea. "Yes, it is. If you're writing about personal experiences for your clients, it would be a good one." She hesitated. Tomorrow was his last full day, and she wanted to spend it with him. "I'd love to come with you."
"And I would love to take you with me, but I don't want to be responsible for your demise. Besides, I assume I'd have to get to Barcelos early to stand any chance of parking."
"That's true." Laura bit her lip. If she didn't finish at the hotel until ten thirty, by the time they drove there the place would be heaving.
"Do you think Teresa would be willing to stand in for you tomorrow morning as well as this evening?" he suggested.
"Maybe." She could only imagine what Maria and Teresa would say about her neglecting her duties to spend the day with Daniel—absolutely nothing! They would probably be delighted.
"You can ask her later—she's bringing you some broth for supper." He pulled a face. "But I don't want you to come if you're not well enough. Understood?"
Laura nodded. She was too tired to argue.
"I have something else to ask you while you'r
e a captive audience," Daniel said quietly.
"Oh?"
He hesitated. "I was wondering if you would consider coming down to Porto with me—if not for the week, then maybe a few days."
Laura's heart leapt, only to sink again as he went on.
"You've been such a help this week, and it's good not to have to do this on my own. I'd appreciate your company . . . and your expertise."
Laura slowly let out a sigh. This whole thing was impossible. She knew he appreciated her company, and that was heartwarming—but he also wanted her for her language skills and local knowledge and to ease the burden at his meetings. That might have been flattering before she realised she was in love with him. Now it felt . . . inadequate, somehow. And the thought of spending so much more time with him when she was swamped by these new feelings, knowing nothing could come of them . . .
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I can't just leave the hotel."
"Your friends will be back soon," he pointed out.
"I know, but they'll still need my help while they catch up with things. And it's my only opportunity to spend time with Rachel. We've been looking forward to it all year." And, Laura thought, it was more important than ever with Rachel's pregnancy. Besides, what would she tell them both?
Daniel nodded. "I understand. But it was a worth a try."
****
He finally left Laura in the early evening, after she'd eaten all her soup and fallen sound asleep.
At a loose end, he called at the Hursts' room and offered to take them out for a meal. Mr. Hurst was still a little too shaky for driving, and his wife didn't like driving abroad, so they were appreciative of his offer to take them into town for dinner. Daniel enjoyed their company and was pleased to hear they were so enchanted with the area that they planned to come back another time, hopefully with better luck. He handed them his card just in case.
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