Luz laughed. ‘I will do my best to keep my feet to myself.’ She lowered her voice conspiratorially so that she was out of earshot of her mother, seated next to her. ‘And yes, parents can be pushy, I agree.’
Romero chuckled before he, too, spoke more mutedly. ‘At least de Calderón doesn’t have that problem. If he’s caught up with la Señorita de Herrera, it’s none of his mother’s doing.’
‘Really? What makes you say that?’ Luz enquired in a mild tone, trying to hide her displeasure at the mention of Adalia. For want of something distracting to do, she plucked an olive from one of the little dishes dotted around the table and popped it in her mouth.
‘The man does what he pleases, always has done. His mother, in particular, never seems to bat an eyelid at anything and tonight is no exception.’
Her curiosity aroused, Luz tracked his gaze to the next table, her eyes roaming between Andrés and the elderly man and woman seated on either side of him. ‘You mean, those people on Señor de Calderón’s table are his parents?’
‘Indeed they are. Granted, they look more like his grandparents, but somehow they managed to produce de Calderón Junior along the way.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Though I find it hard to imagine Doña Eleadora as a young woman.’
Luz glanced over at Andrés’ mother and noticed that most of the time her piercing eyes seemed to stare somewhat vacantly into space. She made only the barest of conversation with those around her, even her son. Santiago de Calderón was more sociable and conversed soberly with Andrés and the other men at the table. He did not possess the same handsome features as his son but had similar dark eyes in a kindly face. Doña Eleadora, on the other hand, had a stronger look of Andrés in the high set of her cheekbones and had clearly been a beauty in her youth, despite her now wrinkled skin and empty expression.
Romero slapped the table in mock agitation. ‘I must say, I could eat a horse! I hope they bring the food out soon, otherwise this wine, excellent as it is, will go straight to my feet and soon it will be you hopping out of the way when we dance,’ he said, grinning at Luz and refilling her glass.
She smiled and they began talking about the other guests, Luz delighting in the shameless gossip Romero had to offer on all his clients from the gallery, half of whom were there that night.
The atmosphere was heady; the hum of friendly voices and cheery, robust laughter formed an unobtrusive background. At one point Romero made his excuses and stood to greet some acquaintances passing further along the terrace. Luz sipped at her sangria and allowed her gaze to drift towards the opposite table again. She observed the collection of people there, relieved not to be among them. Adalia was smiling faintly at the beau on her right, though her whole demeanour exuded suppressed tension. Now and again she flicked a glance at Andrés, a few seats away, then turned back to her companion, laughing too keenly at something he said, before allowing him to refill her glass.
Luz wondered if Adalia, not having been seated near Andrés, had been relegated to mere business partner for this corporate event. Whatever the reason, she was not wearing her usual self-assured mien. Lorenzo was seated furthest away from Andrés, no doubt a result of the torero’s recent presumption concerning the de Salazar project. She would dearly have loved to be a fly on the wall when he had been exposed to Andrés’ impressive wrath.
Now, as Luz glanced at the elegant businessman facing her, deep in conversation with his father, she took in the lean jaw and slight frown marring his perfect profile. She imagined he was as magnificent as an avenging angel when in full flight of fury. Luz saw him stiffen as he noticed her looking at him. That hooded gaze was back as he lifted his glass to his mouth and drank, watching her, before slowly placing it down again. She quivered as if those sensuously sculpted lips had touched hers, though remembering they had not been so restrained when he pinned her against him at La Fortaleza. Her body tingled with memories of how it had felt to have him plunder her mouth with such savage passion, to taste the dark, delectable flavour of him; how his hands had felt on her body, making her spiral into a helpless, hungry desire. Her pulse sped dangerously as his penetrating look held her captive for a moment longer. Then she breathed deeply and turned away so she could not see him any more.
‘Are you all right, darling?’ The warm female voice made Luz’s gaze shoot up to meet her mother’s green eyes.
‘Y-yes, of course, Mamá.’ Luz tried to regain her composure, taking a sip of chilled sangria to cool her burning throat, and added quickly, ‘I was just thinking what an impressive evening Don Andrés is hosting.’
‘There’s certainly a marvellous turnout. I must confess, I do love people watching at these events,’ Alexandra said, as she surveyed the terrace.
Luz smiled fondly at her mother. ‘You were right. It’s a lovely evening, I’m glad I came.’
Alexandra glanced over to Romero, still standing and laughing with his friends. She squeezed her daughter’s hand, her eyes twinkling. ‘I thought you would like the company tonight. Don Andrés has been working you too hard. You needed a bit of diversion.’
A diversion was exactly what she needed, Luz thought, but perhaps not for the reason her mother suspected.
The aroma of sizzling dishes wafted outside as waiters moved swiftly between tables. The Cádiz Yacht Club prided itself on its excellent cuisine. A French chef had been imported and the restaurant was the envy of many of the hotels and eating places in Andalucía. After an array of tapas appeared, washed down with fine bottles of Jerez and Rioja wine, they dined handsomely on warm puff pastry filled with oysters in a whipped creamy hollandaise sauce, followed by duckling, lean and flavoursome, roasted with apples. They ended with one of the chef’s signature desserts: a fluffy praline soufflé accompanied by a rich black cherry syrup.
Romero de Cabrera, seated next to Luz, once more gave her all his attention throughout dinner. He courted her in a frivolous, flirty way that was refreshing and helped restore her confidence, which had been badly bruised of late. She found him light-hearted, with a great sense of humour, and his spontaneous cheerfulness was infectious. Gradually, she allowed herself to relax and became caught up in this spirit of gaiety. Soon she had almost forgotten the ominous presence of Andrés at the opposite table.
To dance with Romero was like floating to music. She felt as light as a feather on her feet and was pleased to fulfil her promise of not treading on his. At first she was a little hesitant, but the young man was an expert leader. He guided her effortlessly around the dancefloor, through waltzes, tangos and the more intricate steps of a foxtrot and an exhibition samba. To and fro he whirled her, holding her loosely then drawing her close to him, before letting her go again. Other couples, impressed by their performance, fell away to the sides of the dancefloor. Now they found themselves the centre of the show.
For Luz the night sped by with a dream-like quality, as though she were a fictional character in one of her mother’s romance stories. Andrés, she noticed, did not dance. Nor did he engage much with Adalia, despite her frequent attempts to gain his attention, a state of affairs that visibly ruffled the young woman’s customary composure. He drank a lot and smoked incessantly. More than once Luz caught his sharp, hooded gaze following her for a moment. Though a part of her was always aware of him, she had become strangely detached from her own feelings as the evening rolled on.
It was close to midnight. Luz and Romero were back at the table sipping coffee, teasing each other with jokes, when all of a sudden she watched Andrés approach their table.
He headed for Alexandra first. ‘Doña Alexandra,’ he said, giving a slight bow as he lightly touched his lips to her raised hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to have you among us tonight.’
‘It’s a pleasure to attend such a wonderful event, Don Andrés, and for such a worthy cause, too. We’ve had so much fun, haven’t we, Luz?’
Luz smiled graciously at her mother’s words. She found it curiously difficult to look at Andrés directly as she said: ‘As ever,
you are the perfect host, Don Andrés.’
‘I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Doña Luz.’ His gaze, dark and intense, lingered on her for an instant before he turned and nodded courteously towards the young architect seated next to her, giving him the briefest of greetings: ‘Romero.’ Then, turning to Salvador, he smiled, a most engaging smile that Luz had learnt to recognize. ‘Thank you for your support, Don Salvador. As a well-respected philanthropist and a pillar of our society, your presence here lends weight to our foundation,’ he said graciously.
‘I’m always happy to endorse and aid a valuable charity,’ Salvador told him before briefly introducing Andrés to his other guests.
‘May I have your permission to ask Doña Luz for a dance?’ Andrés enquired courteously. ‘Though I don’t pretend to be as good a dancer as she is, I have the temerity to think that I can hold my own on the dancefloor.’ He turned his head a little to look at Luz intently.
‘Permission granted but you will have to ask her personally.’ Salvador gave his daughter a knowing look, amusement twitching at his mouth. ‘Nowadays I hear fathers don’t have the right to speak for their daughters, more’s the pity,’ he declared. Both men laughed heartily. Ignoring her father’s quip, Luz stared at Andrés, fighting off a frown.
Alexandra’s green gaze moved swiftly between Luz and Andrés. ‘Thank goodness those days are gone! You certainly should ask my daughter yourself, and quickly by the looks of it before she decides to refuse you,’ she laughed. To Luz’s relief, both her parents turned their attention to their guests, whether by design out of consideration for her feelings, she didn’t know. It was easier facing Andrés alone.
He grinned. ‘Doña Luz, will you allow me the honour of this dance?’ There was a note of challenge in his voice as he moved towards her and held out his hand, giving her no time to think up an excuse to refuse him.
Now that he was so close to her again, Luz’s cloak of near-indifference fell away. The power that only Andrés possessed, to make her feel angry, confused and excited all at the same time, triumphed more strongly than ever. Their eyes locked: his were sparkling with mischief, hers were glowing with barely controlled turmoil.
‘Andrés, mi querido, there you are!’ The voice of Adalia suddenly broke the spell as she appeared from the crowd. Her eyes flicked uneasily from one to the other, a tight smile plastered to her face. ‘I’ve been trying to get you to dance with me all evening and now I see you’re otherwise engaged.’ She fixed her pale, piercing eyes on Luz, who stared unflinchingly back. If Adalia had decided she was going to make her feel small, she was very much mistaken, Luz thought.
‘Yes, Doña Luz has just promised me this dance,’ Andrés explained, giving Adalia a cool smile.
‘On the contrary, I had not yet agreed to dance, Señor de Calderón,’ Luz told him pointedly. ‘How very remiss of you to neglect Doña Adalia.’ She turned to the socialite. ‘Do please be my guest, I’ve danced enough this evening anyway.’
Adalia’s smile slid into self-satisfaction as she said coolly: ‘Yes, Doña Luz, you must be exhausted after your impressive performance with Don Romero earlier.’
At this remark Luz quickly glanced up at Andrés but his expression was impassive as he met her eyes. But he wasn’t about to give up so easily.
‘Doña Luz, I think your father would think it rather rude of me to abandon you at this point, having taken the trouble to ask you to dance,’ he said, before shifting his attention to Adalia. ‘Besides, I believe one of your admirers looks quite determined to claim you, Adalia.’
He nodded past her shoulder at the enthusiastic-looking young man currently making a beeline for them.
Adalia looked behind her and, before she had time to protest, Andrés pressed his hand into the small of Luz’s back and gently, but resolutely, propelled her away through the crowd. Luz shivered at his touch and realized any objection was now fruitless. Sliding an arm round her, Andrés led her to the dancefloor just as the lights were dimming and the orchestra was engaging in a haunting, slow melody. The soft crooning song struck a chord with the lonely ache in her heart. She couldn’t help but think of Leandro and she missed him. Even though their love was doomed, in many ways the gypsy had made her more sure of herself than she could ever imagine being with the man who had just guided her lightly through the crowd. Andrés moved his palm subtly over her satiny skin, his touch firm and warm on her bare back, searing into her and making her tremble slightly. She tensed, recognizing the familiar, instinctive stir in her body as she responded to his proximity.
They moved into the seething mass on the dancefloor and he took her in his arms, holding her tight, so she was aware of the thundering beat of his heart against her breast. His thigh brushed against hers. The surge of arousal that ran through them both as their bodies met was like an electric shock. Her nipples stiffened; a rush of blood went to her head. She didn’t want to feel this way but her will had been sapped. The music was plaintive, tearing at her, and she closed her eyes, shutting out all sight and sound from her world. Once again she was in Leandro’s arms, drifting in a sweet semi-conscious state, at one with him. She relaxed, melting, as undeniable warmth flooded her loins. Sensitive to her need, Andrés drew her ever closer into his embrace, clasping her to him, feverish and possessive. A yearning sensation filled her but she was not sure where it came from now; she only knew that she was surrendering to it, and to the man holding her in his arms. He had the most sensual touch and she savoured it with wanton abandonment. His jaw was brushing against her temple and she could just make out the spicy aroma of his aftershave mingling with the familiar scent of him. It felt good; it felt right. Time stood still. Above them the stars twinkled like diamonds and the moon was warm and glowing. She wanted this moment never to end.
All of a sudden the psychedelic lights were turned back on, startling her out of her fantasy world, and the orchestra engaged in a lively twist-and-shake number reminiscent of the sixties. Reluctantly she drew away from him, a little dazed. Andrés walked her to her table, his hand still on the small of her back.
‘It has been a pleasure dancing with you,’ he whispered, his jet gaze settling intently on her face as they reached Luz’s seat.
His caressing voice came to her through the mist that still clouded her brain. Moving his palm from her back, he took her hand in his. ‘I’ve been meaning to call you to discuss our project further. Maybe we can meet sometime during the week.’ She felt his fingers tighten their grip.
As he broke into her thoughts it was like an awakening call. She blinked and returned to the present. Her stare fixed on his face. Amusement danced in the black eyes and she knew beyond a doubt that he was all too aware of the emotions he had elicited in her, but she was beyond caring. Something undeniable had taken hold of Luz, intoxicating her with its heady essence. She nodded and gave him a brief smile. He leaned towards her and though she knew this was neither the time nor the place, she yearned for him to kiss her, every part of her eagerly expectant.
‘I’ll call you in the morning,’ he said. Behind those words lay an emphasized intensity and the tender look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Thereupon he bade her goodnight, took his leave of Salvador, Alexandra and their guests and walked back to his table.
Half an hour later, she and her parents were being chauffeured back to L’Estrella in Salvador’s vintage Hispano-Suiza and Luz had fallen into silence. She watched her mother doze, her head leaning comfortably on her father’s shoulder, and was relieved to be left to her own thoughts. Salvador had made a few comments on the way back from the Yacht Club and she was well aware that he had noticed Romero’s fervent interest in her – not to mention the young architect’s obvious disappointment at her departure – as well as noting Andrés’ more discreet attentions. Naturally she had pooh-poohed it all when he had teased her about it, but it was obvious that both Salvador and Alexandra had been watching her all evening, weighing up the prospective suitors. Eventually, they had given
up their probing, though Luz knew that she had only been let off temporarily.
That night marked the first tremors of a turning point for Luz. She was filled with an intense euphoria, coupled with a vague sense of guilt. She could not deny that while in Andrés’ arms her imagination had run wild; it had been so easy to pretend that the man holding her in his embrace was Leandro. Still, tonight, just like the night at La Fortaleza in Pamplona, the magnetism between Andrés and herself had been unmistakable. Her feelings for this man had crept up on her stealthily like a predator and their very nature was alien and fascinating to her: dark, intimidating, dangerously thrilling. Something had stirred in her tonight, a tingling awareness that played with her mercilessly. Was this mere sexual excitement? Luz wasn’t experienced enough in matters of the heart to know but she had no doubt the ardent fire that now devoured her equalled his. The kindling had been there from the first moment they had laid eyes on each other, just waiting to be ignited. She knew that she was on perilous ground, yet the idea of not pursuing this reckless feeling, of not seeing Andrés again, was even more disturbing to contemplate.
Perhaps it was not so odd that she should be attracted to both the hidalgo and the gypsy. Despite their different circumstances and upbringing, there were qualities they shared: in their own ways both men were charming, arrogant and manipulative; each with a force of personality impossible to ignore. If Andrés had been the one she had met first, how could she be so sure that it wouldn’t have been to him that she would have lost her heart?
Nevertheless, she felt a poignant stab of disloyalty towards Leandro as she mulled these thoughts over in her mind. True, the gypsy had rejected her but she had no doubt he loved her profoundly. Had her body’s response to Andrés this evening meant that she had given her love for Leandro its final farewell?
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