'No, Federico, we've been through all this—it's over now that Catalina's back, you said so yourself.'
He spread his hands appealingly, looking around the crowded street. 'But here there is no one '
Rosanne shook her head firmly, remembering Catalina's tight firm mouth and her resentful eyes. If the Spanish girl could become so jealous of her association with her brother, how much more so she was bound to be if she discovered that her fiance had been seeing her. And then there was Jaime's opinion to consider— there was always Jaime's opinion to consider no matter how unwillingly she admitted it.
'I'm not taking any chances, Federico! I wouldn't care to cross your novia, she strikes me as a pretty formidable lady!'
'But how will she know? I know no one here -'
'You're here and Marta and I are here,' Rosanne pointed out, getting a little out of patience. 'Who's to say there aren't other people here from Almaro? No, Federico, I'd much rather not, if you don't mind.'
'And if I do mind?'
The bright dark eyes resented her refusal and challenged her to say truthfully that she did not want to enjoy his company for a few minutes while she waited for Marta. But the temptation was much less than she would have believed, and the prospect of crossing swords with Catalina would have been enough in itself to keep her resolution firm, so she once more shook her head.
'Then I'm sorry you feel that way, Federico. But I don't—I won't give Catalina any more cause to dislike me than she already does.'
He frowned briefly, then realisation dawned and his eyes narrowed for a moment, and Rosanne caught a glimpse of cruelty in their depths. 'Ah, si, Catalina has told me that you were the girl who was driving with Pablo when he was killed. This does not make you the friend of Don Jaime, I think, eh?'
He probably looked for some kind of dramatic reaction from her, Rosanne thought, but if so he must have been disappointed. Whether or not her face gave away anything, she kept her voice quiet and steady, and made as little of it as possible. 'Oh, Jaime's known about me and Pablo ever since I first came here,' she told him, and Federico frowned at her unbelievingly.
'This is true?'
'Yes, of course! He knew before your cousin introduced us at your dinner party.'
He had known even before she knew he was Pablo's cousin, Rosanne mused, and the wonder was still why he had bothered to show such concern that first time they met, when a brief enquiry after her safety would have satisfied even his strict code of behaviour.
Federico's eyes regarded her narrowly for a moment, still doubting, yet seeing no reason why she should lie about it. 'Does Catalina know also how long her cousin has known you?'
Rosanne trod carefully, wary of saying anything about the portrait that had enabled Jaime to identify her and which he had kept hidden in his private study ever since his aunt told him to destroy it. In all probability Catalina had told him that the portrait had existed, but she had no way of knowing whether or not Jaime had yet revealed its continued existence.
'I don't know how much Jaime confides in his cousin,' she told him, 'but I don't imagine she knew how long he'd known who I was.'
'Ah!'
The familiar repetitive sound almost made her smile, but it was she who was uneasy now about them being seen together, and she wanted to bring the meeting to an end as quickly as possible. Glancing at her wrist- watch, she made a move to walk past him. 'I'd better go, Federico, or I'll have done nothing when Marta comes to find me. Adios.'
But Federico was not in a mood to be rejected yet again, and he took both her hands in his, holding them tightly and gazing at her with a curious blend of defiance and frustration. 'There are many things that
are not clear to me, Rosanne '
'They don't have to be clear to you!' She made her way along the crowded sidewalk, trying to ignore the fact that he was ?till beside her. 'And will you please stop following me, Federico, I don't want to be seen with you!'
He did not see that her present attitude simply reflected what his own had been during most of the time he had spent with her, but he did not take kindly to having the tables turned, and his good-looking face flushed angrily. 'Muy bien,' he murmured angrily after a moment or two. 'I will not inflict my company upon anyone who does not wish for it! Adids, senorita!'
No sooner had he disappeared into the crowd, striding away from her angrily, than Rosanne regretted the manner of his going and turned to see if he was still in sight. He wasn't, but a woman coming along behind her stepped out of the way when she turned and gave her a long searching look.
Rosanne apologised automatically, and tried to think where she could have seen her before, but gave very little time to the question because she was too preoccupied with Federico, and wishing it had not been necessary for them to part in anger. It had been an opportunity to have a few words and wish- each other polite goodbyes, instead of which they had had angry words and she, for one, regretted it.
Resigned to never healing the breach with Federico, she could nevertheless console herself that no one had seen them together and could pass on the information to Catalina or possibly Jaime. Shrugging with almost the same fatalistic acquiescence as her Spanish friends, she turned once more and went in search of Marta.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was another couple of days before Rosanne was to learn just how much effect those few minutes' conversation with Federico had had. She had mentioned to Marta that, she had seen him and spoken to him, but apart from rueing the fact that they had parted such bad friends, there had not been a great deal to tell. Marta had shrugged, an inevitable resignation to fate, and said that perhaps it was as well; a conclusion that Rosanne was forced to agree with.
She did not drive herself, but Marta had driven her down into Almaro, called at the pasteleria for some pastries, and then left Rosanne to her own devices. She could either telephone when she was ready to return or take the one and only taxi back; it was an arrangement that had worked before, and Marta no longer feared to be thought inhospitable when she left her alone.
By tourist standards there was not a great deal to see or do in Almaro, but it suited Rosanne to wander around the little square and look in the shops. She could visit the church too, or go and sit in the tiny enclosed garden with its handkerchief-sized lawn that laid claim to the rather grand title of Parque de San Pablo.
As parks went it was not very impressive, but it had a peace and quiet that Rosanne enjoyed, and its rather shabby white iron seats were set beneath the exotic shade of palms. In the centre, a bed of roses flourished in spite of the scorching heat, and their full-blown glory scented the air around the little green, as well as making a vivid splash of red amid the yellowing grass. There were red oleanders and the inevitable masses of bougainvillea running riot beneath the background of palms; purple and red, with a spread of creamy white magnolias to one side of the path.
Rosanne always chose the same seat whenever possible; one that faced across the park towards the square. From there she was able to see the church, looking much more pagan than Christian with" its Moorish facade and set in a frame of feathery palms, and the fountain in the centre of the square.
It was because she chose her customary seat that she was able to see that someone had followed her through from the square. Recognition came with a sudden lurching thud in her heartbeat when she noted the long- legged stride with its familiar suggestion of urgency, and she wondered why Jaime Delguiro was seeking her out.
When she first caught sight of him she had been about to sit down and she hesitated for a fraction of a second, then sat down slowly with her hands in her lap and quite unconscious of the angle of her chin. That he was intending to join her, Rosanne was in no doubt, any more than she doubted that he was coming with the object of doing more than make light conversation while they sat in the shade, and her heart was thudding anxiously, bringing a faint suggestion of colour to her cheeks as she waited.
She kept her eyes downcast until he was almost upon her, the
n looked up into that dark, implacable and unmistakably disapproving face, with an inward sigh of regret. It would be delightful to think that he had come to join her with no more serious intent than to pass the time of day with her, but that was something Rosanne knew better than to expect from him, much as she regretted it.
He was casually dressed, so it was obvious that there was no business appointment in the offing that was likely to limit his time, and she did not know whether to be sorry or glad about it. A light blue shirt, open at the neck, showed a length of brown throat that somehow looked strangely vulnerable on a man like Jaime; something Rosanne had not noticed before, and did so now with a curious flutter of tenderness that she did not pretend to understand.
Light grey slacks emphasised his leanness and were worn with a matching jacket, open to give a casual air, until one looked at his eyes and saw the dark seriousness of them. He stopped just short of where she sat, and Rosanne was obliged to tip back her head to look at him, her long lashes shadowing her eyes and half concealing the uncertainty in them.
That slight and very formal bow before he spoke, was inevitable, she realised. 'Buenos dias, Rosanne.'
'Good morning, Jaime.' She took a little heart from the fact that he used her first name, and remembered in time not to add the title to his, then wondered if this was perhaps an occasion when she should have done so. Indicating the seat beside her, she half smiled an invitation. 'Aren't you going to sit down?'
He hesitated only fractionally, but when he did sit down she found him much closer than she expected, so that the warmth of his nearness enveloped her, making her uneasily aware of that stunning air of sensuality about him that she was always so conscious of. Thick black lashes concealed his eyes for a second or two and Rosanne swept her own gaze over the lean cragginess of that arrogant nose and firm chin; the straight mouth and dusky gold skin lightly touched with fine lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Her senses were playing her tricks, and there seemed nothing she could do to control the way she felt.
'You disappoint me, Rosanne. You have not. kept your word!'
His words jolted her back from the realm of pleasant speculation to harsh accusation, and Rosanne stared at him for a moment with a haze of confusion in her grey eyes. She did not, for the .moment, have the remotest idea what he referred to, and she was shaking her head in bewilderment.
'I don't quite ' she began, but Jaime cut her short.
'Catalina and Federico have quarrelled, and. I hope that gives you no satisfaction at all! I cannot believe that you are as heartless as your behaviour suggests, Rosanne, and yet how else could you deliberately see Federico Sanchez again after you assured me that you never would?'
It became clear at last, although she could not at the moment imagine how Catalina had heard about that brief meeting in Ciudad Roca; Federico had surely not been rash enough to tell her about it himself. She was definitely not prepared to take the blame for something that had been unavoidable, but she needed to be a lot more sure of her ground before she declared herself as indignant as she was rapidly becoming.
'Someone told you?'
Rosanne thought he looked vaguely discomfited for a second and it surprised her. 'Someone told Catalina. A—a neighbour, a woman who knows Catalina and Federico, saw him speaking with you in a street in Cuidad Roca two days ago.' There was a bitter twist to that wide mouth when he went on. 'She thought it was her duty to let us know that it was not the first time that she had seen Federico in your company.'
So it had actually happened; the thing that Federico had been so wary of each time he took her out had happened because for once he had been so sure they would not be observed. It was almost laughable. And then Rosanne remembered that she had almost bumped into a woman when she turned to look after Federico when he went stalking off so indignantly.
Even then she had thought her vaguely familiar, but her mind was busy with other things at the time and she had paid little attention to the woman. Rosanne searched her memory for a name, for the face had already fallen into place. The same woman had spoken to Federico one day when he was seeing Rosanne into his car, and she had wondered then at his apparent dismay at being seen and recognised. That, of course, had been before she realised that Federico had any reason to worry about being seen with her.
'Senora Ribera!' Rosanne knew from his frown that her guess had been correct, for the almost black eyes looked at her narrowly for .a moment.
'You know Senora Ribera?'
Rosanne nodded. 'I've seen her—twice. The first time was when I'd had lunch with Federico. She spoke to him and he looked as if he had been caught consorting with an undesirable! The second time was when I was in Ciudad Roca a couple of days ago—but you know about that, don't you, Jaime?'
He was in no hurry to answer her, and she could tell just how reluctant he was to admit that he had listened to Senora Ribera's story. 'It was because the Senora had seen you in Ciudad Roca with Federico that she came to see Catalina,' he told her.
'And you listened to her!' Rosanne's hands clenched tightly and she looked at him with stormy grey eyes, her mouth trembling with indignation. 'I'm under no obligation to tell you what happened when Senora Ribera saw me speaking with Federico in Ciudad Roca,' she went on in a small tight voice, 'but I will, because I want you to know just how wrong you are—you and your—your precious informant!'
'Rosanne——'
She told herself that she must be imagining the hint of anxiety in his voice, but she was in no mood now to be sidetracked by anything, and she meant to put him in the picture whether he wanted to listen or not. Her hands tightly together in her lap, she told him the whole story, bolder than she would normally have been because the injustice of his accusation stung her to anger.
'I went to Ciudad Roca with Marta Segovia, but I was walking around the shops on my own when Federico saw me; Marta was at the hairdresser's, and stopping to talk was his idea, not mine! What am I supposed to do when someone comes up to me in the street and speaks to me—simply walk away? I've seen you several times in similar circumstances and I can imagine what you'd have thought and said if I'd simply turned and run! You'd have thought I'd taken leave of my senses, wouldn't you?' '
'I should have wondered what it was I had done to offend you!' .
It was impossible to believe that she could se6 laughter glimmering deep in those dark eyes, and yet she could have sworn it was there when she looked up at him, and she shook her head before going on with her explanation. 'Now that she had begun she had no intention of sparing him even the smallest detail.
'Federico wanted me to go somewhere with him and have coffee, but I refused, just as I promised you I would, just as I intended doing whether I'd promised you I would or not! He got annoyed with me and held on to my hands while he tried to make me change my mind, and I can imagine that to someone like Senora Ribera it must have looked very condemning! I started to walk away and he followed; when I told him to go away he eventually got the message and stalked off in high dudgeon—that would be what the Senora saw; I almost collided with her when I turned.'
'Ah!' Once more that useful expletive came into use, and this time Rosanne felt certain that it expressed satisfaction.
'Anyway,' she went on, 'you don't have to worry and neither does Catalina—I doubt very much if Federico will ever try to speak to me again!' Tipping back her head, she angled her chin in a way there was no mistaking. 'Does that satisfy you, Don Jaime?'
The firm mouth twitched just slightly at one corner and thick lashes hid his eyes from her, but his voice had a deep warmth that played havoc with Rosanne's senses as she sat there close beside him. 'It is very satisfactory, muchas gracias, Rosanne.'
A flush stained her cheeks and she was not prepared to give an inch, even though he showed definite signs of wanting to soothe her anger. "You shouldn't listen to every old gossip who tries to make mischief! Frankly, I'd thought better of you, but it only goes to show how wrong you can be about people!'
/> 'Oh, Rosanne!'
He said it so softly that the effect was to make her catch her breath, and she put a hand to adjust the neck of her dress, trying to stop her fingers from trembling. Then she looked directly at him and saw the smile that lit the dark features, bringing a myriad of small lines to the corners of his eyes, and a glistening whiteness of strong teeth to the dusky gold face. Anger she could have faced, or the stiffness of a man embarrassed at being wrong, but the idea of his finding her righteous anger amusing was the last straw.
'I'm glad you find it funny!' she told him in a voice that she tried hard to keep from trembling. 'I'm afraid I don't take kindly to. being spied upon and then accused of breaking up someone's romance!'
'Not broken, Rosanne, the quarrel is already cooling.'
'Well, I'm glad for their sake; but you should have knoyn that nothing was further from my mind where Federico was concerned!'
'So?'
'I told you so!' Rosanne insisted, her pulses urgently responding to that deep soft voice and a definite warmth in his eyes. 'Besides which, I hardly know the man—I'm not likely to be that serious about him, am I?'
Jaime said nothing for the moment, but once more those thick lashes hid whatever was in his eyes, and there was a look about the firm mouth that reminded her of another occasion she could not yet quite recall. 'Will you accept my apology, Rosanne?'
An apology was so unexpected that Rosanne looked up at him with wide uncertain eyes, but ready enough to make up if that was what he wanted. Moistening her suddenly dry lips, she nodded. 'Yes,, of course. I suppose if Catalina and Federico had quarrelled it was rather '
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