Masquerade

by Hannah Fielding

  Time passed at a staggering pace. It was now well into the afternoon and they were still sitting in the seclusion of the loggia. Andrés had ordered more coffee and some little cakes, which they went through as they chatted, discussed, argued and planned the way to move forward on the book. They worked well together, as they had done in their previous planning meeting.

  As the day progressed Luz found she was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of helpless attraction. As she fought with all her might to keep her emotions in check she hoped that, despite his extensive knowledge of the female psyche, he was unaware of what was happening to her. His command over the expressions of his face and his enigmatic eyes meant that, more often than not, she was left in the dark about his own feelings. Sometimes he let her glimpse what was going on under that impassive surface, but she knew it occurred only when he wanted it to.

  At six o’clock Luz glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve been here almost all day, I’d better get going,’ she said, secretly hoping he would ask her to stay, though fearing the consequences if she were to do so.

  He grinned as though he had read her mind. ‘I thought you’d kept the whole day for me, or have you forgotten I promised you a moonlight swim?’

  She smiled back and shook her head. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’

  ‘But perhaps you thought I had.’ He raised an eyebrow, still amused.

  Luz scrambled for something to say. This would be another step forward on already dangerous territory. ‘I just wasn’t sure if it was still on,’ she heard herself answer, before she could think properly.

  ‘You bet it’s still on. Do you think I would willingly pass up the opportunity to be near your beautiful naked body under the shimmering moonlight?’ The blunt avowal of his intention penetrated her brain. Luz paled as she met the wicked glint in Andrés’ eyes, mixed with something deeper and unrecognizable. His soft voice not only caressed her ears but the whole length of her, arousing her with its bold request. Before she could find a suitable answer to quash him, he leant across the table towards her.

  ‘I promise not to touch,’ he murmured, his face set in feigned melodramatic secretiveness. ‘I’ll just admire from afar. Except, of course, if you want it otherwise.’ Was he teasing her gently – or mocking her?

  Luz felt trapped. Thoughts of escape entered her head but that was the wise part of her mind. She knew exactly what she must do if she listened to reason but she was not in a sensible mood; nor had she been for days, weeks, months. First it had been Leandro, and now Andrés. She could not escape what she felt when she was around him; all rational judgement disintegrated. Even more than the gypsy, he had awakened a whole array of complex feelings about which she was ignorant. She had lived quite happily before this in proverbial bliss – or had she? Andrés would argue that she had been missing out on one of the most enjoyable essentials of life.

  Luz’s expression was clearly anxious enough for a momentary look of shocked surprise to cross his face.

  ‘Don’t look so worried. I didn’t mean to alarm you. You’ve nothing to fear from me,’ he said, lifting his hand and brushing the back of it against her cheek. ‘I will never ever ask you to do anything you don’t want.’

  ‘And I would never do anything I didn’t want to either,’ she answered quietly. Yet at that moment Luz was sure of what she wanted; she just didn’t know if it was wise.

  Andrés scrutinized her for a moment; his eyes were serious, his tone grave when he spoke again. ‘You’re still very innocent and I find it refreshing to be around you. Forgive me if sometimes I forget myself and embarrass you, Luz. I never knew there were women like you in the world. Your reactions are so unusual, so heightened that, like a naughty child, I find myself wanting to provoke them.’

  He seemed truthful enough and she believed him; still, she was lucid enough to realize it would not take much for her resistance to melt.

  ‘I keep a small dinghy on my beach. Would you like to go sailing?’ he asked, still leaning forward a little to scrutinize her face. ‘The sun is not so hot now and there’s a slight breeze. Besides, the scenery is magical at this hour.’

  Her lips curled into a smile. ‘Thank you, I’d like that very much,’ she said quietly.

  ‘You’ll need your swimsuit if we do decide to have a dip in the water,’ Andrés suggested carefully, his lips hinting at a smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll spare your blushes and not insist you swim naked.’ His mouth broke into a broad grin, as if reading her thoughts. For a fleeting moment it made him seem so like his gypsy double that she blinked. ‘I already have mine on, but there’s an alcove with a seat further down where you can change,’ he continued, nodding to a place behind her where the loggia was part divided by a wall. ‘I promise I’ll stay over here,’ he added, still grinning.

  Luz shot him a wry look: ‘How very gallant of you.’ For an instant she saw his eyes flicker with something before it was gone. Picking up her bag she walked away from him, letting out a deep breath. Why was he so ridiculously attractive? And why was her pulse racing like a schoolgirl’s on her first date? She quickly changed into her bikini, put her clothes back on over the top and returned to the other side of the terrace.

  The shade under the trees devoured them, lovely, dark and cool. They walked down to the beach, conversing lightly and casually as they went, accompanied by a mild breeze that carried the soapy scent of Spanish fern and that of the roses crowding the garden. On the beach, colour blazed across their retinas. The sky was azure and serene; it was still warm and the sun-splashed sea was alive with phosphorescence. The crystal-clear quality of the water was such that, five hundred yards from the shore, they could see every rock and pebble on the ocean floor.

  The fourteen-foot white sailing boat with its blue sails lay on its side on the sand. ‘We’ll leave our clothes on the beach,’ Andrés suggested as he tugged his polo shirt over his head and took off his trousers. His tall, lithe and broad-shouldered body appeared to Luz in all its golden glory, with only a slim black apology for swimming trunks, which barely covered the well-endowed bulge between his thighs. The shadow of chestnut hair covering his muscled chest arrowed pointedly to his waist and disappeared beneath the waistband of the minimalist garment.

  Luz’s insides melted as she watched him. Calm down, old girl, she remonstrated as she dragged her eyes away from the godlike physique before her, he’s only a man … Yes, but what a man! He was so like Leandro in his stance and build that she couldn’t help but think once more of the gypsy and wonder if they were blood brothers somehow, though the thought was swiftly driven from her mind by the awe-inspiring sight of Andrés and the impact of his overwhelming presence.

  ‘Your turn,’ he grinned, teeth gleaming white against his swarthy tan.

  With rather unsteady hands Luz rid herself of her clothes and kicked off her sandals. Damn it, she was blushing. What’s happening to me? she asked herself despairingly. She was in the habit of wearing a bikini, so why the sudden coy reaction?

  Andrés, with the considerate attention of the perfect gentleman, despite his earlier quip, had carefully averted his eyes and was busy pulling the sailing boat into the water.

  Donned in a sheer kaftan, which she had slipped over her marigold-yellow, twist-front bandeau bikini, she walked to the side of the boat, which was tossing about in the shallows. Water swirled round her feet; it felt good. Before she could protest Andrés had turned swiftly and swept her up in his powerful arms, drawing a gasp from her lips. He had caught her off-guard; his hands were cool but his torso was hot against her already quivering skin and her unprepared body responded immediately to this sudden contact. She knew no seductive movements; she had no need. The faint suggestion of her silhouette beneath the thin material of her kaftan was alluring enough to turn Andrés’ irises into a molten inferno. She could hear the pumping of his heart as her cheek brushed against his chest.

  His grip on her body tightened a little as he pressed her against him for a moment. Then he set her down gen
tly in the boat.

  ‘You look beautiful, Luz,’ he whispered. ‘A dream creature in the sun.’

  She smiled up at him and coloured under the intensity of his gaze. The erotic sensations his body had left imprinted on hers were deeply distracting.

  ‘I’ve not sailed much before, but show me what to do and I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it,’ she told him, a little breathlessly.

  ‘Are you ready then?’ Andrés gave her a wolfish grin.

  Luz nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

  Andrés looked around him to check everything before putting on his sunglasses. He asked Luz to take the tiller while he hoisted the mainsail and away they went, out into the sun-dappled open sea, to meet the golden sunset, which was not far off. When the sail was well filled with wind, the rope attached to it entwined around his long fingers, Andrés came and sat beside Luz. He showed her how to tack into the wind and explained how she should move over to the other side of the boat each time he called ‘ready about’, ducking under the boom to sit with him on the side as the boat shifted to an almost vertical tilt. As they worked together to manoeuvre the dinghy, Luz felt exhilarated. At one point Andrés crossed over again to sit next to her and covered her hand resting on the tiller with his palm. Their eyes locked intensely but neither spoke. The ocean was deserted; it appeared to be all theirs. Trapped momentarily in the amber of time, they sailed silently under the huge arc of sky.

  Luz watched Andrés as he tightened the sheet of the mainsail in its cleat. The sun threw a splash of gold over him and she found herself studying those features that, after Leandro, now seemed doubly familiar to her. He was so handsome it was unfair. She had never seen such devastatingly attractive brooding eyes, with long thick dark lashes women would die for; their colour was simply a detail. Andrés’ dark irises that were now hidden behind the screen of his sunglasses were just as arresting and compelling as Leandro’s green ones. It was the passion, the mischief, the soul behind them that counted. She was discovering each man was as wild, exciting and lovable as the other. The longer-than-average shock of chestnut hair, bleached by the sun in places, was equally arresting whether worn swept back in a tidy ponytail or tousled, naturally curling over a broad forehead, framing the face like a halo.

  But at that moment she knew she was falling in love with Andrés. He had been a nebulous, mysterious figure in her thoughts while Leandro had had all her heart and had been forever in her mind. Now Andrés appeared larger than life and the image of the gypsy seemed to have receded, though a part of her mourned him still. However, Andrés was still an enigma to her. Though they had talked a lot, he had volunteered relatively little about himself and she got the impression there was a whole side of him she still did not know.

  ‘Mind your head!’ Andrés shouted suddenly, jolting her out of her thoughts. She ducked beneath the boom just in time as it swung over with a shudder.

  They were on another tack, sailing into the freshening wind. It had not been strong when they had set out, but it had increased in the last half-hour. She could see Andrés was a practised sailor. He manoeuvred his boat adroitly, changing tack swiftly and efficiently.

  After some time Andrés bent forward to speak: ‘We’ll be sailing with the wind now and we’ll be able to stay on the same course all the way to shore.’ He pulled up the centreboard and moved opposite her to balance the boat. ‘Running with the wind will feel surprisingly smooth and quiet after tacking, but the boat’s actually going much faster.’ Relaxed, he settled back, his arm stretched along the side.

  ‘Have you been sailing long?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, Eduardo bought me my first dinghy when I was thirteen. Whenever I had a quarrel with my parents or was upset, I used to sail out to sea. All the anger seemed to disappear magically. The sea’s so huge, the sky so immense, it felt like somehow nothing else mattered.’ He had taken off his glasses and Luz saw a look of sadness had crept into his eyes. She wondered what it was that haunted him.

  They spoke of the wind and the sea, but were conscious of each other. Once or twice, Luz looked up at Andrés and their gazes fused: his, intense and ablaze like the great orb descending towards the horizon; hers, blue and deep as the vast ocean they were sailing.

  On the way back, the boat hugged the coast until they reached the secluded beach in the cove of Puesta de Sol. Afloat in twilit waters, sliding across the setting sun, they watched an orange sunset flow like molten gold behind the cliffs, while along the bay the lights of Cádiz twinkled on. Dazzling colours filled the sky. Lonely white clouds turned into flaming swords, deep orange and red marking the west; the peak of the many rocky hills rose like church steeples, shooting forth tongues of flame from the reflecting sundown. In the distance the sinking orb gilded the houses of Cádiz with a special fleeting glory, their windows winking and flashing in the fading sun. Small vessels and steamers were moored alongside the quays; work was over for the day, everything still and tranquil. Soul stirring, the scene was all poetry and romance, depth and mystery.

  As the small boat approached the shallow waters of the beach, the shadows were dying out in the twilight and the pale evening star shone in the sky. Wave upon wave broke in showers of spray against the immense cliffs that rose to the left and right of the secret place. Andrés jumped out first and helped Luz climb down on to the sand. They secured the boat, tying it to a stake with the mooring rope. As they came round the other side of an outcrop of rock, she was surprised to see that a canvas gazebo had been set up on the beach a few yards away from them. Slowing her pace, Luz’s enquiring eyes looked silently up at Andrés: this seemed much more than just a place to swim.

  He grinned. ‘The night is still young,’ he said mildly as he shot her a sideways glance.

  She looked doubtful, the voice of wisdom in her head whispering to her again. ‘I think I should be getting home.’

  He walked ahead and turned. The smoky eyes settled on her. ‘Don’t think, Luz, just enjoy.’

  That would suit you to perfection, she thought, and in that precise moment, she had to admit, it suited her, too. She stared at the man standing before her in the lambent light, a man women would die for, a man the mere touch of whom sent her body, her senses, her mind and her soul into exquisite chaos. There was no use struggling against it; one way or another, she knew deep down that fate would deliver her into Andrés’ arms.

  ‘Why not?’ she breathed enticingly on a little rush of laughter.

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ he said and promptly popped open the bottle of champagne that lay waiting for them in a bucket on the table.

  Everything had been set for a candlelit dinner for two. Andrés had planned it all down to the smallest detail, which in this case was a not-so-small blow-up sofa that stood in the shelter of the gazebo on the sand. He followed her eyes. Now it was her turn to glance at him sideways. He gave her a sheepish smile.

  ‘Just in case …’

  ‘Yes?’ she prompted, eyeing him quizzically. She wanted him, but she was not going to allow herself to be pushed into it. Not that she needed to be. Still, he had to understand that.

  Andrés shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Luz. Juan or one of the staff probably thought they were doing right. You know, making the place more homely.’

  ‘So long as you don’t expect me to …’

  His face grew serious at her slightly clipped tone and he gently cupped her chin with his hand, his thumb momentarily skimming her lips. ‘Have I not told you before that I will never do anything you don’t want?’

  Luz nodded, locked in his gaze. As he took his hand away, her mouth tingled where he had touched her.

  ‘I stand by my word,’ Andrés said, and Luz knew he meant what he said. There was a sense of offended pride radiating from him that made her believe whatever happened would be entirely of her choosing. A warm smile replaced his frown. ‘And now, shall we drink to that resolution and enjoy our dinner?’

  Luz smiled back and nodded. ‘Actually,
I think I could manage something to eat, yes.’

  They laughed and sat down at the table, laden with exquisite silver and fine china, printed with details of delicate red-gloved hands tangled in a twisting pattern of green leaves and branches, which he explained had been designed by Eduardo.

  As they sipped the cold champagne and savoured a large bowl of lobster, artichoke, potato and chive salad, both took care to keep the conversation light, never once verging on the deeply personal. They talked about their hobbies, their work, travels … anything, in fact, but what was on their minds.

  Long after the sun had gone down to light other worlds, a small breeze started up; the night was cool now. Andrés slipped on a red cashmere sweater and offered Luz a blue one. At first she refused, but the camel-coloured jacket she had brought with her proved cumbersome and so she graciously accepted. Dressed in a garment that was his, impregnated with the familiar medley of aromas so obviously him, it was as if she were wrapped up in his arms. The disguised intimacy conjured up all sorts of images and sensations that made her head swim. Candlelight rendered the dark planes of his narrow face, his elegant features and those sensual curved lips even more dramatic. She found it difficult to look into his eyes: they were now too readable, mirroring her own thoughts, sending her into further chaos.

  The stars had come out in the dark canopy of the sky, large and flashing as they gazed warmly down upon them. The silver crescent of the first moon was just visible as it competed shyly with the brightness of the other celestial bodies; the sea a plum black and darkly aloof. They were together in this lonely place, highly aware of each other, the world lost to them, eaten up and absorbed into the cavern of night.

  ‘A glass of Manzana Verde or Licor 43?’ Andrés asked. ‘Or maybe you would prefer a Cognac, my favourite?’