‘Spare me the tirade and get to the point. What’s the problem, Luz?’ he cut in, his mouth settling into a hard line.
‘Don’t act innocent with me, Andrés de Calderón. It’s a word that’s never figured in your dictionary.’
‘And sensible has never figured in yours, it seems.’
She glowered at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Meaning that your impetuous nature often gets the better of you.’
‘I’d rather be impetuous than deceitful,’ she snapped. Andrés narrowed his eyes but the intense look he gave her was not enough to dam her gushing temper. ‘Your duplicity really is staggering, in every way …’
‘And what duplicity is that?’ he cut in. An odd expression burned in the depths of those dark irises.
‘I’ve had enough of this! Your games may excite the likes of Adalia and all the other women you have swooning at your feet, but not me.’
She started heading towards the trees, intent on getting away from him as quickly as possible, but he shook his head and hastened after her. ‘Hey, wait a minute,’ he laughed, grabbing hold of her bare arm, making her skin tingle alarmingly. ‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous.’
‘Jealous?’ her cry was shrill, startling a night bird in the coppice. It flew out into the open with a great flutter of wings before settling in another tree. She yanked away from his grip, breathing faster. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. And don’t look at me with those dark, caressing eyes of yours, I’m not a fan.’
‘Yes, I suppose you can’t be everyone’s fan,’ he said sarcastically. ‘But then your interests are so wide-ranging, as you pointed out.’ He was standing so close to her now, his gaze fierce and derisive.
Hate was too benign a word to describe the way she felt about him at that moment. He had hit a raw nerve that she had barely acknowledged; the reflex was simultaneous. Her eyes flashed a dangerous grey as her hand swept up to his face with a force of which neither of them had imagined her capable.
She heard his sharp intake of breath before he pulled her into his arms, eyes blazing. He held her fast against the force of his body, his hands urgently gripping her shoulders. She tried to break away, struggling furiously for release and praying for the willpower to resist, but he refused to let go, pinning her against his powerful frame. The sheer masculine energy of him pounded at her: urgent, fierce and dominating. And then they were stumbling backwards, his mouth taking hers in a most desperate, hungry kiss, as if determined to reach inside her and make her respond. And she responded. Suddenly she was against the hard surface of the tree and he was pressing against her. Something flashed like light inside her at the sheer carnality of it and she knew he felt it, too. It was as if neither could stop themselves. She was not prepared for the rapid rise of emotion nor the overwhelming desire that exploded in her as he plundered her mouth with a savage fervour, searing her lips with his fire, demolishing her resistance. Trembling, her head fell back and she closed her eyes, surrendering helplessly as her legs turned to jelly, her heart thudding loudly in her ears.
He broke off the kiss, panting, his eyes dark and hungry. ‘What are you doing to me, Luz? I want you so badly, querida, I think I might die,’ he growled with a fierce intensity that sounded almost familiar.
Finding her mouth again, his kiss deepened and she felt the pressure of his pulsing arousal, potently communicating the extent of his desire. She gave a soft moan. A mindless ferment of yearning was building up in her as his skilful hands found the swollen curves of her breasts and the taunt pink tips crying out for his touch. He tantalized and caressed them and when finally he pulled aside the top of her dress and his warm lips captured the hard peaks, her fingers grasped his hair and the ache and burning hunger for him made her cry out.
‘Leandro, oh Leandro, I love you … take me, here … now!’ she pleaded, uncontrollable tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her own voice sobered her up as it tore into the night and she realized what had happened. With a smothered gasp of anguish she pushed Andrés with both hands, tearing herself away from him, before once more raising her hand to give him a stinging blow to the cheek. She staggered backwards, covering herself again.
‘Who are you? What do you want from me?’ She was shouting almost hysterically, crossing her arms around her shoulders like a protective shield against the terrifying danger he represented.
The colour drained from his face and his features froze in a mask of utter pain. ‘It’s all right, Luz. No tengas miedo, querida,’ he whispered soothingly. ‘Don’t be afraid, it’s all right. I’m sorry, we can sort it out.’ He took a few steps towards her, extending his arm.
But she was having none of it. ‘Don’t you dare come near me!’ She backed further away from him, her cheeks still wet with tears of confusion and humiliation; his reaction as bewildering as her own shocking behaviour.
‘Maldita sea, damn you, Andrés de Calderón!’ she declared. She picked up her evening bag, which had fallen to the ground then turned on her heel and stumbled off without a backward glance.
‘Wait, Luz, déjame explicarte, let me explain,’ Andrés called out. But she was already too far away and, though she caught an almost fraught despair in his voice, she kept going.
Luz made it back to the house unsteadily. As she came up the steps of the terrace, she breathed a sigh of relief. One of the maids was clearing away glasses and ashtrays that had been left on the balustrade. After asking for the cloakroom, she freshened up as quickly as she could, smoothing back her hair and taking deep breaths.
She was a dense mass of quivering nerves, tension and confusion taking over her mind. Staring at her reflection, Luz touched her lips, which were still swollen from the fire of those kisses. In a moment of madness, her body had betrayed her. Why, when she did not trust Andrés and found him hateful, had she responded to his caresses with the same fire and uninhibited elation that engulfed her while in Leandro’s arms? Was she turning into some kind of nymphomaniac? She couldn’t think straight. In fact, she couldn’t think at all. At this precise moment she only knew she wanted to go back home to Cádiz or to El Pavón; maybe even to her flat in Chelsea. Anywhere that was familiar and safe, and would put miles between her and the mayhem of her present life.
After putting some order back to her sorry state, she hurriedly left the cloakroom. With any luck her little escapade would have passed unnoticed. She crossed the hall and went into the brightly lit drawing room. Most of the guests were still there. Maybe she hadn’t been missed but that was too much to ask: as she paused at the door Lorenzo rushed over to her and grabbed her arm proprietorially.
‘Luz, where have you been? I looked for you everywhere.’ He seemed more miffed than concerned.
She tried to sound casual and smiled demurely as she disengaged her arm, slowly but firmly, from his clutch. ‘I needed some air and walked down to the river,’ she explained.
‘I only wish I had been with you. You must visit the grounds in daylight,’ he said in sugary tones, his pale-blue gaze travelling all over her frame. Clearly he had decided to renew his efforts to charm her.
She nodded absentmindedly and her eyes tried to catch those of Carlos or Alba, who were standing across the room, as she searched for a reason to take leave of her hosts. The trouble was, that although it was well past one in the morning, for most of the guests the night was still young. How she longed for the privacy of her room back in Pamplona.
Presently Adalia joined them. ‘You do have other guests,’ she reminded her brother curtly, smiling fixedly as she did so. She turned to Luz.
‘We missed you after dinner,’ she noted, her piercing gaze considering the other woman shrewdly. ‘Maybe in England it’s the done thing to slip away for a whole hour but let me give you some friendly advice. Here in Spanish society we consider it rather rude, especially when it coincides with the absence of a male guest,’ she rasped, keeping her voice low. ‘You never know, people might start talking about history’s nas
ty little habit of repeating itself,’ she ended stiffly, before marching back into the middle of the room and circulating elegantly among her friends as though the incident had never occurred.
Luz was mortified. Although she now saw that Adalia’s charm concealed a manipulative and barbed nature, still her own sense of shame and confusion pooled inside her like curdled milk. She wanted to hurry away but Lorenzo put a hand on her shoulder.
‘Look, I must apologize for my sister,’ he said, adopting a look of embarrassment. ‘Don’t take any notice. She’s just a little upset because her fiancé-to-be had to leave sooner than she had wanted. Unforeseen business.’ He gestured with his hands, as though describing the unavoidable situation. ‘Apparently, Andrés is catching a plane back to Cádiz in the morning and wanted to have an early night. It’s as simple as that.’ He smiled unctuously. ‘Please, don’t give it another thought.’
Luz’s scalp prickled and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be away from this place and these people. Lorenzo either had no idea to what his sister was alluding or cared even less to explain. His affected concern and pointed remarks about Andrés made her want to slap him, but instead she took a small breath to calm herself.
‘I think it’s time for me to go, too,’ she announced wearily. ‘I’m not used to staying up so late.’
‘I’ll be seeing you at the corrida in the afternoon and maybe we can all go out and celebrate afterwards,’ he responded, his eyes still boring into her.
She had no intention of either attending the corrida or any celebration for that matter. By the afternoon she hoped she would be well on her way back to Andalucía, if not already at El Pavón or L’Estrella – she had not yet decided which. Still, she forced herself to smile up at Lorenzo acquiescently, wanting to avoid any more scenes or pressure from him. She’d had enough for one night. The Spanish were an intense, passionate people and, from time to time, the small amount of English blood that ran through her veins cried out for peace and quiet, and a little decorum.
Thankfully, Alba came over. With one look she could see that Luz was pale and edgy. Without a word she took her friend by the arm, smiling shyly at their host, and the two women bade him goodnight. Alba steered Luz out of the room in search of Carlos, whom they found still in the company of the young woman who had captured his attention earlier that evening. He reluctantly disentangled himself with a whispered word of farewell in the ear of his admirer that left her giggling coquettishly.
Silently they drove back to Carlos’s flat, the two young women huddled in their own corner of the car throughout the journey. Luz’s brooding thoughts enveloped her like the darkness outside. In repose, the outline of the countryside with its mountains and plains looked solemn and mysterious; a weird aspect of nature’s art, she thought, watching the leviathan shapes slip by in the distance like slumbering giants, immutable and oblivious to the petty concerns of human life. An oppressive sense of melancholy descended on her that she had never experienced before; suddenly she wished she could be swallowed up in that still, secret blackness and escape the relentless torment of her own feelings.
The car finally reached the outskirts of Pamplona, where the sight of the city’s lit-up medieval churches and old stone buildings pierced the gloom of Luz’s introspection. Carlos pulled up in the narrow street outside his flat and jumped out, opening the door for them both.
‘Would you both like a nightcap before bed?’ Carlos looked at Luz, gauging her mood before glancing at Alba, who shook her head.
‘It’s late, Carlos, and we’ve all had quite a bit of excitement this evening. We need our beds, don’t we, Luz?’ She linked arms with her friend as they walked inside. ‘We’ve lost enough beauty sleep as it is tonight. We’ll all go out for breakfast tomorrow as it’s Luz’s last day in Pamplona.’
‘Very well, buenas noches de las señoras,’ Carlos smiled, waving them off upstairs as he headed for the drinks cabinet.
‘Will you please tell me what’s going on?’ Alba asked her friend once they were in the privacy of the bedroom.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Luz continued to brush her hair energetically as though she was trying to beat the life out of it.
Alba came up to her. ‘Is Andrés de Calderón the man you’re pining after? Because, to put it vulgarly, he certainly has the hots for you.’
The question was blunt and made Luz pause and put down her brush. ‘No, it’s not Andrés de Calderón,’ she said quietly.
Alba eyed her sceptically. ‘I watched you both. There’s definitely something going on between you two.’
‘Yes, of course – we’re working partners. I’ve told you, I’m writing his uncle’s biography, nothing else.’
‘Yes? And I’m the Queen of Spain! Really, Luz.’
‘That is the honest truth, I promise you.’ Luz frowned.
Alba lifted a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Well, there’s a missing link there. You can deny it as loudly as you want, but the chemistry between you was sizzling all evening. And trust me, I wasn’t the only one aware of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that Adalia, who’s been after him for years and to my knowledge hasn’t yet landed him, was nervous as a kitten tonight. She’s never felt threatened before by any contender to that very alluring catch, el Señor de Calderón. If looks could kill, we’d be attending your funeral in the morning.’
Luz shrugged. ‘Andrés de Calderón, I’m told, is a notorious womanizer. If what you say is true, she should be used to his libertine ways by now.’
Adalia’s nose had certainly been put out of joint, she reflected. Her biting remarks – obscure though some of them were – did little to conceal her animosity now.
‘You both disappeared this evening at the same time,’ Alba persisted. ‘Are you honestly going to tell me that it was pure coincidence?’
‘I was hot and went for a walk. Is that such a crime?’ Luz felt on the defensive. She didn’t want to think about people talking about her and Andrés together. Besides, she didn’t want to think about it herself. ‘Anyway, why is it so important? Why are you quizzing me?’ She began braiding her hair vigorously.
‘Because I feel you’re in trouble and I don’t want you to get hurt.’
A lump clogged Luz’s throat. ‘It’s too late, amiga, that’s already done!’ The phrase came out huskily. The sadness that had settled in her chest since Leandro had left her that day on the beach bubbled to the surface, bringing tears to her eyes. Luz turned her face away; she wanted nothing more than to go to bed and have a good cry, alone.
Alba ran over and put her arms around her. ‘Oh, Luz, you’re upset. I knew there was something more to this. Isn’t there anything I can do to help?’ She stroked her arm tentatively.
Luz hesitated a fraction. She dearly wanted to unburden herself to her friend but explaining everything was too daunting. But she was so mixed up and confused herself, what if Alba misjudged her and disapproved of her feelings for a gitano? She shook her head emphatically. ‘There’s nothing anybody can do. I have to live with it and hope that someday I may forget.’
Alba eyed her dubiously. ‘Whether it’s Andrés or someone else … I don’t know who this rogue, this picaro, is and what he’s done to you. But if it’s any consolation, men flow to you like bees to honey. I saw them tonight – Lorenzo being no exception, much to my chagrin,’ she admitted laughingly. ‘Whatever your feelings are for Andrés de Calderón, that man is head over heels in love with you. I assure you, Carlos noticed it as well.’
‘Carlos? What do you mean?’ Luz sounded surprised.
‘I mean that el Señor de Calderón’s eyes were glued to you all evening. Carlos was sitting near him at dinner and was not so wrapped up in his own flirtation not to notice. Even during dinner, when you were sitting at the other end of the table, Andrés was watching you quietly behind those long dark eyelashes of his. I tell you, nobody else stands a chance when you’re in the room. And that must have hit home loud
and clear to Adalia tonight.’
Luz was listening now with her head slightly tilted to one side. She had never lacked confidence and had always been aware of the opposite sex’s interest in her, though she rarely felt inclined to return it, so why did Alba’s words fill her with such reassurance? A feeling of warmth suddenly invaded her heart. Andrés always disorientated her. Even when he had seized her in that scalding kiss tonight, pressing her to him so urgently and swamping her reason and she had thought that he was toying with her again, she had not cared. Could there be something deeper behind it? The thought of it was so strange it frightened her, even more than her wanton response to him.
‘Do you really think so?’ she muttered, as though measuring all that it meant.
‘I know so. He said goodbye to the Herreras as soon as you walked out of the room. That’s why everybody who noticed, including me, assumed he had followed you into the garden,’ she continued. ‘You could have cut the air with a knife. Andrés insisted Adalia shouldn’t accompany him to his car, practically ordered her to stay with her guests. Plain as daylight!’
Her friend’s gossiping drew an amused smile from Luz, who was secretly enjoying these details. ‘What else did your eagle eye register? It’s fascinating.’
Alba beamed. ‘Oh, after all that drama, everything else was dull,’ she told her, a mischievous twinkle in her large brown eyes. ‘So did he or did he not follow you into the garden?’
Luz shrugged, letting her friend deduce the conclusion she wanted.
‘Goodnight, Alba. You’re a good friend and I do appreciate your concern, but I really don’t think you want to get involved in all this. Thanks for trying, though.’
Alba sighed, clearly resigned that she would receive no more information. ‘Are you still intent on leaving tomorrow morning?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Luz, resolutely. ‘I need to get back to work as soon as possible. And anyway, I’ve never been a great fan of corridas, you know that.’
She got up and hugged her friend affectionately.
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