Image of Love

by Rebecca Stratton

  Of course they had put on the same show many times for countless other visitors, but still the performance was exciting and touched echoes in her senses that she had never known existed; and no two dances could ever be completely alike, surely. When it came to an end she applauded wildly and instinctively, though whether or not her approval was appreciated was difficult to say, for the dark secretive faces gave nothing away.

  Small grubby hands were extended with uninhibited appeal when they got up to go, and silver coins changed hands swiftly. Few thanks were forthcoming, only a short critical glance at the offering, for they had been entertained and the money they gave was no more than what was due for the entertainment.

  'It was wonderful!' she said to Federico as they made their way back down into the town, and he smiled his satisfaction.

  'Bueno! I am glad to have pleased you, Rosanne.' He saw her into his car once more and turned in his seat to look at her before he started the engine. 'You will now have dinner with me, eh?'

  Marta, of course, would expect her to stay out for dinner, so Rosanne had no hesitation in nodding agreement, and Federico made a short, sharp sound of satisfaction. 'Are we eating here in San Felipe?' The little town was picturesque, but rather too crowded for her taste, and she was relieved when he shook his head.

  'There is a very good fonda that I know of near here.' He released the brake and drove off down the steep road out of the town while he spoke, the darkness closing in around them as they left the lights; except for the last streaks of daylight mingling with an already risen moon, it was night. 'It is quiet and we may eat our meal outside if that would suit you, Rosanne.'

  'It sounds delightful!'

  The little inn he spoke of proved, in fact, to be much nearer to Almaro than San Felipe, but it was beautifully situated above a fertile valley that appeared Only as a shifting hollow full of shadows in the present light, but promised to be enchanting in the full light of day.

  - The inn itself had once been a private dwelling, so Federico informed her, and was now run by a relative of the former owners as a hotel and restaurant. It was a favourite rendezvous of such people as themselves, he said, and managed to put a great deal of meaning into the words.

  The evening cool on the terrace surrounded by vines of morning glory and climbing roses was deliriously cool after the heat of the day, and the meal every bit as good as Federico promised. The tortillas espanol they ordered bore little resemblance to the Spanish omelettes on British menus, and Rosanne found it almost a meal in itself, although she still managed to enjoy an excellent lobster salad after it and finally a delicious turron jijona made of almonds, honey and white of egg. They drank sangria, the mixture of red wine, sliced fruit and ice, deliciously refreshing after a hot day.

  Federico, she guessed, would have eaten a much larger and heavier meal, normally, but he restricted his own appetite to hers and sat swirling the last slice of lemon around .in his glass as he smiled across at her. 'This is what you call very nice, is it not?' he asked, and Rosanne could only agree.

  'It's wonderful—the place, the food, everything!'

  His eyes held hers insistently, glowing darkly in that handsome brown face. 'And the company also?' he suggested.

  'The company too, Federico.' She had to agree on that most of all, she admitted to herself. 'In fact it's been a wonderful day and I've thoroughly enjoyed it.'

  'Ah, then you will come with me tomorrow also, eh?'

  It was a temptation, Rosanne had to admit, but she was still hesitant about becoming too closely involved with anyone else as she had with Pablo Ostera, so she shook her head as she watched the helpless flutterings of a brown moth around the lamp above their table.

  'I don't want to commit myself, Federico. I'm not sure what Marta has planned for tomorrow and I'd hate to have to let down either of you.'

  Federico would understand all about good manners, of course, but he was not pleased for all that and there was a distinctly unhappy droop at the corners of his mouth. 'Yes, of course, I understand,' he allowed grudgingly. 'But you will come with me again, Rosanne, will

  you not? Very soon? I have not offended you in any way?'

  'Oh, good heavens, no!' She realised almost too late that such an appeal was simply an attempt to make her change her mind, and she hastily recalled the words on the tip of her tongue and smiled at him instead. 'But I must see what Marta has planned for me first, Federico."

  He reached for her hand, possibly realising how close she had come to changing her mind, and held it for a second to his lips, his mouth merely brushing her fingers for a second before he released them. 'I will ask you again tomorrow, when you have discovered whether or not the senora has plans for you, huh?' She nodded. 'Bueno, then I will telephone you in the morning!'

  His enthusiasm was flattering, but she still meant to keep her feet firmly on the ground, and she smiled. 'Better make it after lunch, Federico, I don't get up very early as a rule.'

  'Tomorrow after lunch.' He kissed her fingers once more, looking very serious about it all. 'I will do so, Rosanne.'

  It had been a lovely afternoon and Rosanne was not at all averse to spending other afternoons with him, but this time she was going to take things much more slowly than she had with Pablo. She was going to get to know Federico Sanchez a little better before she consented to spend every day with him and became dependent on him as she had with Pablo. She had not fallen in love with Pablo, but she felt sure that if she had gone on seeing him for very much longer she would have done, quite easily.

  Outside once more, Federico saw her into the car, then walked around to take his own seat, apparently heedless of another ear that drew up in the car park, only a short distance away. With nothing else to distract her, and naturally curious, Rosanne turned her head as the driver of the other car got out of his seat.

  His face as he half turned to close the door was illuminated, as her own was, by the lamp outside the inn, and as he turned from the car he saw her too. Recognition was mutual and the dark, gleaming eyes were full on her for several seconds, giving her a curious churning sensation in her stomach.

  Briefly the dark gaze flicked in the direction of Federico as he leaned forward to start the car, and she thought Don Jaime frowned, but the glimpse was too brief for her to be sure. She had had cause once before to suspect that he did not approve of her becoming friendly with Federico, and she wondered by what right he set himself in judgment.

  Still unaware of being observed, Federico drove the car on to the road, and Rosanne chanced just one more brief glance at Don Jaime as he bent to assist his passenger from the car. As if he sensed it, he looked up and she could almost feel those fiercely dark eyes looking at her, almost as if they issued a warning, she thought, but could think of no reason why they should.

  Federico turned briefly and smiled at her. "Feliz!’ he asked, and she nodded. There was no reason why she should not be happy, however much Don Jaime Delguiro frowned at her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rosanne could usually manage to make herself understood despite her lack of Spanish, but just occasionally lines became crossed and there were difficulties. As a rule such misunderstandings did not last very long, but this morning she was having no success trying to make the woman in the post office understand that she wanted to register a package she was sending to England.

  The woman behind the counter was apologetic but at a loss, and Rosanne was desperately casting around in her mind for the right word for register. Normally a man served her and they got along quite well, for he had at least a smattering of English, but the woman had none at all, a state of affairs that Rosanne could hardly condemn when she was just as ignorant of the Spanish.

  'Lo siento, senorita.' The assistant apologised yet again and spread her hands, and Rosanne smiled ruefully.

  'Maybe there's someone about who speaks some '

  She stopped and shook her head when she realised that even her explanation was not being understood. 'Momento!' she
said, calling on one of her few words of Spanish, and the woman frowned curiously.

  Rosanne turned away, intending to ask the help of someone passing by, but at first glance the square seemed deserted as it most usually was. It was only when she turned the other way that she saw someone coming along the tree-shaded sidewalk and she had stepped out of the shop doorway to ask his help before she recognised who it was; doing so, she caught her breath. Her first instinct was to change her mind and turn back into the shop, but she had so obviously been going to speak to him and it was not easy to simply turn away with those dark, compelling eyes questioning her.

  'Buenos dias, Senorita Gordon.' He pronounced her name so precisely and a black brow swept upwards enquiringly. 'May I be of service to you?'

  Unsure whether or not she wanted to appear to Jaime Delguiro as quite as helpless as she felt, Rosanne

  hesitated. 'I ' She laughed, hating to confess her almost complete lack of Spanish. 'I'm having a little difficulty with the assistant in the post office,' she explained. 'I see the man as a rule and he usually understands me, but this morning he isn't '

  'Come!'

  Her explanation was cut short when hard fingers curled about her arm and turned her once more into the post office, where the woman behind the counter looked suitably impressed when she saw who it was she had returned with. Standing in the tiny shop he looked awesomely tall and his face had a dark and shadowed look that sent inexplicable little shivers running through Rosanne's body.

  He released his hold on her as soon as they were inside, but the dark eyes between their thick lashes looked down at her with a hint of impatience, she thought. 'What is it that you wish translated, senorita?'

  Rosanne showed him the small square package she held in one hand. 'I want to send this by registered post, but I don't—I can't remember the word for it and '

  It was taken from her and pushed towards the woman behind the counter. 'Certificado, por favor, sen or a.'

  'Ah, si, senor!'

  It was a matter of seconds until the package was dealt with and the receipt put into her hands, and Rosanne felt rather like a child who has been shown the right way to do something. It was a sensation she did not relish, mostly because it was this particular man who inspired it. Nevertheless she had been grateful for hi? help and for the woman's patience, and she smiled at her ruefully.

  'Gracias, senora.'

  The woman was obviously intrigued and made little effort to disguise it. Rosanne was quite certain that she knew who Don Jaime was, and it was possible she knew of his customary aversion to strangers—Federico had implied that it was quite well known. He had suggested too that marly people would be puzzled by her knowing him, for that very reason, and Rosanne wondered why, in that case, he" had not been more averse to helping her.

  'Thank you, Don Jaime.'

  She did not look at him when she said it, but she knew that he was watching her face because the power of those darkly shadowed eyes was inescapable as well as disturbing. He could have simply given that very formal little bow of his and walked away again, but he didn't, and his failure to do so puzzled Rosanne.

  'You are returning to your friend's home, senorita?'

  A swift upward glance revealed his intent, and Rosanne wondered if she had the nerve to refuse to drive back with him. There was no sound reason why she should, and yet she felt almost nervous of doing so because she thought she could again see that indecipherable message lingering in the fathomless depths of his eyes.

  She would have given almost anything to discover what it was he sought to convey, and yet she was half afraid of knowing. It was possible that the idea lived only in her imagination, but she could not convince herself of it. In the restaurant the first time she set eyes on him, again when he had almost run her down in the street, at the Sanchez dinner party and when she glimpsed him as she left the fonda with Federico—it was always there; that deep, meaningful look that she felt she should have understood and didn't.

  'I haven't quite finished here, Don Jaime.' She spoke as if she knew what he had been going to say next and laughed, an oddly nervous little laugh that always unerringly betrayed how she felt. 'I know Almaro isn't exactly a teeming metropolis, but there are enough shops to keep me happy for a while.'

  'As you wish, senorita.'

  His ready acceptance of her excuse came as a disappointment somehow, and yet it was quite reasonable that he should take her word. She could hardly expect him to be so anxious to drive her home that he would wait around while she gazed into shop windows. He inclined his head in that short and very formal bow and did not even smile.

  'Adios, senorita!'

  'Adios, Don Jaime!' She watched him walk away along the shaded sidewalk and he had taken several steps before she remembered to thank him again. 'Oh, and thank you for helping me!'

  For a second she thought that wide firm mouth actually smiled, but he was turned away so quickly that she could not be sure. He took the driver's seat and the big black car purred its way out of the square and out towards the hill road, while Rosanne watched it go, still with that quite inexplicable sense of disappointment.

  Unsure what she was to do next, she sighed as she turned and strolled rather aimlessly along the sidewalk, making sure to stay in the shade. Of course he would be long gone by the time she got to the corner where the taxi started from, but somehow she felt she must give him time to be well away before she started for home herself.

  She was actually speaking to the taxi driver when a car horn shattered the quiet square, starting a dog barking and making the driver she was talking to raise his head and stare. It took Rosanne a second or two to realise that it was Federico who had caused the disturbance and she viewed his arrival with a smile. He braked at the kerb just ahead of the taxi and she murmured a hasty excuse to the man as she went to join him.

  Smiling broadly, he swung himself out of the driving seat without opening the door, and stood in the road looking at her with the same intent showing in his eyes that she had seen in Jaime Delguiro's. This time, however, she did not hesitate—there was nothing disturbingly mysterious about Federico Sanchez.

  'Were you going home?' he asked, and Rosanne nodded.

  'I was just '

  'No need for a taxi!' He called out to the taxi driver, and the man shrugged resignedly at seeing his fare pirated.

  Federico got in beside her, turning first to smile at her as he started the engine. It was not the same car that he had driven when they went to see the gypsy caves, but an open sports type that she rather suspected was English made, and it gave a cooler ride with the light breeze raised to a stronger wind by their speed.

  'I have telephoned as I promised I would,' he told her, but made no excuse' for ringing before instead of after lunch as she had suggested he should. 'But you are not still in your bed as you told me you would most likely be, Rosanne, you are here in Almaro!'

  'I had to go to the post office, so I was earlier than I expected.' She wondered what he would have said if he knew how Jaime-Delguiro had come to her rescue, but made no attempt to enlighten him. 'Anyway, I've seen you instead, so it doesn't matter much, does it?'

  He drove the car out of the square and on up the road that she had seen Don Jaime take only minutes before, and he pulled a face when he glanced at her once more. 'I am disappointed that you are going visiting, Rosanne, I would have liked you to drive with me this afternoon.'

  It was news to Rosanne that she was going visiting, but she supposed it was something that Marta had arranged while she was out; she would never have put off Federico otherwise, for he fitted too well into her plans. There seemed no point in telling him that she so far knew nothing about it, for she would not dream of changing arrangements Marta had made for her, no matter how appealing the idea of driving with Federico might be.

  'Oh, I'm disappointed too,' she assured him. 'But there'll be other times, Federico.'

  'Si' He did not sound nearly as sure about it as she would have expecte
d him to, and she puzzled over it briefly.

  'Only if you want to see me again, of course,' she told him, and smiled as if mattered not to her one way or the other.

  'But of course I do!' He pulled up at the patio gates and came round to take her hands in his after he had helped her from the car. Standing with her beside the arid, sun-baked road, he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them lightly, his eyes showing such promise that Rosanne felt herself enveloped in a glowing warmth. 'Of course I will see you again, Rosanne!'

  'Yes, of course.'

  Federico stood with his back to the road and the shadows of the acacia growing beside the gates fell across his face, giving him a darker, more passionate look when he raised his head again and gazed at her. It was doubtful if he even noticed a car coming up the hill, but Rosanne was immediately alert to it because she recognised it.

  Large and black, it purred effortlessly up the steep hill, and she wondered what could have delayed Don Jaime that he was still on his way home. There was a turning, of course, only about fifty metres down the hill, and it was possible he had called on a neighbour. But what she noticed as the car passed them was the look of dark, glowering anger on the driver's face and the angry arrogance of his head turned firmly forward and not even slightly glancing in their direction.