His jaw clenched as his hand went to her face but then dropped again. ‘I love you too,’ he replied in a choked voice and then quickly, as though not trusting himself to speak another word, he turned his head away. He helped her into the boat and then climbed in himself.
Already the sun was strong and hot. The glare was blinding, with a clean white brightness about everything. The beautiful blue sea stretched to the horizon, wide and shimmering, as they sailed into the sunshine.
Luz finally broke the awkward silence. ‘Are you all right?’
He smiled, but she sensed he had changed. At the party, too, she had noticed that there was an odd look about his face, as though it was not easy for him to smile. He was so near, yet she sensed he was a great distance from her. Though she knew he loved her, somehow his still, silent face confounded her and she was afraid. Was he going to tell her that, even though his feelings for her were deep and he did not love Adalia, he had made a promise to her, which as a man of honour he could not break? Please, let it not be that. Luz felt the wind on her face and tasted salt spray on her lips. It could have been a wonderful day if not for the fear that gnawed at her heart.
Slowly they sailed towards their favourite beach. Despite the brightness of the day, melancholy wrapped them in silence. The wind had changed direction and was blowing much stronger now. Here, the open sea was quite choppy, breakers rising and falling in soft swells. Very soon, the boat began to pitch, water splashing in at its sides. Andrés pushed the tiller over, bringing the dinghy round on a new tack. Luz moved forward, half-standing, to tighten the sheet of the jib, the way he had shown her. Just as she did so, a powerful gust made the boat jibe, the mainsail swinging round violently. The boom hit her a glancing blow on the head, just enough to make her lose her balance.
‘Andrés!’
Her shocked cry rent the air as she was catapulted into the turbulent blue waters.
Andrés reacted swiftly, immediately taking command. Releasing the sheets of the sails from their cleats, he steered the boat into the wind to halt its progress. Without hesitation, leaving the boat unmanned, its sails flapping wildly, he dived into the water.
Luz’s head was tilted back, nearly covered by the waves, and every time she went under she swallowed seawater. Gasping for air, she choked, her arms frantically flailing about to no avail. She couldn’t seem to use her legs. Whenever she tried to take in a breath and swim in a particular direction, she made no headway.
‘Hang on, Luz!’ Andrés called out, swimming towards her, his voice sounding thin over the space of the sea. He’ll never reach me! He’s too late, she screamed inwardly. And then the water closed over her head, shutting off the world above. Blind fear gripped her now; her legs wouldn’t, couldn’t, hold her up. They were paralyzed as if in a cramp, the muscles knotted in pain. She felt herself sink vertically into the deep.
Then, in one swift motion, powerful arms dragged her up to the surface and Andrés was there, supporting her head and limp body against the strength of his frame. She was helpless and heavy, but he managed to float her on the surface and swim back to the boat. Luz didn’t know how he managed to haul her aboard the pitching dinghy. It was as if he had superhuman strength but, at last, they were both inside. Luz huddled in the bottom of the boat and, with one hand, Andrés grabbed a towel to wrap around her, while, with the other, he took the tiller. He must have adjusted their course, bringing the craft round to run with the wind because they were on an even keel now, but Luz was barely conscious of anything. Andrés bent over her with concern, water dripping from his hair, his clothes clinging to his body.
Luz was as white as a sheet and cold. He rolled her gently on to her side so that she could cough up the water from her lungs.
She lay there, pale and shivering, while Andrés returned them to calmer waters. After some time she became aware of the hull hitting the sand and being hauled on to the shore. Her head hurt. Andrés lifted her gently from the dinghy and wrapped her in a large Guernsey sweater he retrieved from a canvas bag. Now he was massaging her legs with his strong fingers as he attempted to relieve her cramped muscles. She felt warmth and life return to her body with the friction and pressure of his hands. Her lungs, though, still strained to draw in any breath.
‘Luz, are you all right?’ His words sounded anxious as he leaned over her.
She moved her head and whimpered his name. Through the mist of her benumbed state she could hear him calling her. She coughed up more water. Then her eyelids fluttered and opened.
Blankly she gazed up at her rescuer’s concerned face. She blinked once, twice, in disbelief as she met a pair of piercing green eyes: Leandro’s eyes. Her confusion wouldn’t clear. Surely it was Andrés she had called for, but where were his velvet black eyes? Why was Leandro now peering down at her, his long hair loose and wet around his face? She had left Cádiz with Andrés, on his boat, she was sure of that. They had been in the middle of the ocean. What was going on? Andrés and Leandro couldn’t be there at the same time, unless …
And then Luz froze for a few seconds as her hazy mind grasped the reality staring down at her. ‘Leandro? Andrés? … Who are you?’ she cried out in horror. She struggled to sit up on the sand. Her head was in a vice, clamped at her temples. As panic gripped her, her stomach heaved. She retched once, then again. How could he? … Why? She was not so much shocked by the truth as shattered by the deceit. But it all made sense now. It was almost as if some part of her had always sensed that Leandro and Andrés were one. Wasn’t that why she had responded so passionately to Andrés’ touch without feeling real guilt towards Leandro?
Andrés attempted to calm her down. He started to pull her back into his arms. ‘Hush, querida, let me explain, I …’
But Luz wanted none of it. ‘Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hear a word,’ she said, pushing him away and trembling now, less with cold but more with anger at her own credulity. She did not glance in his direction, but kept her eyes focused on the encircling headland. He had got them here, to their beach.
‘Take me back now,’ she told him. Her voice was flat, ice-cold. ‘I have no idea what sick game you’ve been playing but I can’t stand the sight of you!’
Luz was no longer sure if she loved this man in front of her or hated him, in fact, she was no longer convinced of anything except the desire to go home and be alone in her room. She thought she knew him intimately but now he was two men – or wasn’t he merely one stranger?
Andrés gazed warily at her as if at any moment she might jump up and run, just to be free of him. After a moment of silence between them, he knelt back on his heels.
‘I know what I’ve done is unforgivable,’ he said bleakly. ‘I was planning to tell you the truth today. I do have an explanation, I promise, Luz. And as flimsy as it may appear to you now, I want you to hear me out before you judge me.’
There was cold disdain in the look she finally gave him and the smouldering anger in her heart blazed up. ‘Nothing can excuse such despicable deceit,’ she told him, her voice shaking. ‘You deliberately set me up. How could you have acted the way you did? Why? Why? Why?’ she cried out, reproach and hurt filling her eyes.
He ran his hands through his wet hair. ‘I would have saved you this entire nightmare if I could, Luz,’ he said in a low voice. ‘But circumstances were stronger than both of us. And I needed to protect you, as much as anything. Let me explain,’ he pleaded again.
‘Oh, please! Andrés? Leandro? I don’t even know what to call you any more,’ she said with a laugh, full of self-derision. ‘Spare me the doleful hero act.’ She struggled to raise herself from the ground but he put a hand out to gently stop her.
‘Don’t hate me, Luz. My name is really Andrés Leandro. I am half-gypsy and half-gajo, and that’s the truth,’ he explained softly.
‘I don’t want to know,’ Luz cut in harshly, flinching away from his touch. Inside, she was torn apart by his betrayal. ‘Andrés, Leandro … they have both ceased to exist for me.’ S
he looked up into the green irises that still managed to hold her captive for a moment, her heart beating faster. But her eyes were swimming with tears. She spoke quietly and the words were fraught with meaning: ‘As long as I live, I will never forgive you. Whatever happens, in my heart I will always hate you.’
Andrés looked as though Luz had struck him physically. His eyes, so green and penetrating, seemed to fill with shock, then hopelessness, before taking on a steely edge.
‘That’s fine, absolutely fine,’ he said, getting slowly to his feet.
And in the numbness of her pain, the edge to his voice sounded to Luz like indifference.
* * *
Luz sat on her veranda watching the day being swallowed up by the hot darkness of night. She could not believe how gullible she had been. Andrés had deliberately set her up from day one. All the time she had been mystified, he had been watching her. It was a twisted game he had played but, to the best of her knowledge, he was not that sort of man. How could she have been so mistaken? Of course he had been very cunning, planning the subterfuge down to the smallest detail. From the gypsy accent and wild, carefree attitude to what must have been lenses that changed the colour of his eyes; it had all been masterfully calculated – but why? And to what end? The reason for him going to such lengths to deceive her still escaped her.
Looking at it with this new-found knowledge, she found many things now made much more sense. She had never understood her sudden powerful attraction to Andrés after she had thought herself so deeply in love with Leandro; it was so unlike her. She had always felt uncomfortable, as though she was being disloyal to her gypsy lover, even though he had been the one who had abandoned her.
Still she came back to the same question: Why? What had Andrés to gain in staging such a cruel charade? From what she had ascertained about him during the few months they had been lovers, he was well thought of and loved by his friends. It was true that she too had found him kind, thoughtful and generous whether gypsy or hidalgo. Could she have been fooled to such an extent? Of course the logical way to find out why he’d done this to her would have been to hear his explanation, but the first thing in her head had been to get away from him. Even looking at him and listening to his voice had hurt her, like holding fire to her skin. She’d had to be alone so that she could lick her wounds in private and nurse her shattered heart.
The lights of the ships were now dots of gold, fading gradually into the mists above the ocean, and the palms in the garden shivered and clattered in the breeze. Luz watched the great orange moon rise majestically from the sea on the far horizon as if a child’s hand had suddenly decided to paste it to a scenery card in a myriorama. She sighed and went indoors, tears streaming down her cheeks. There was nowhere for her to turn. Sheeting waves of pain clutched at her heart. How would she be able to forget the man every nerve in her body ached for?
She retired to bed, longing for sleep. It eluded her, but she dozed languidly in a semi-consciousness state as scene after scene of her recent life in Spain unrolled like a film in her mind’s eye.
Much later, when the curtain moved, she was barely aware of the shadowy figure entering stealthily through the doors of the open French windows, blocking out the moonlight spilling into the room and padding with a velvet tread towards the bed where she lay.
Luz opened her eyes and gasped as she recognized the man who had been haunting her days and nights during all these months. As she sat up and scrambled over to the middle of the bed, her hands moved to her mouth to smother her cry. She could see his eyes taking in the curves of her body, just visible beneath the transparent fabric of her flimsy nightdress.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in a strangled voice, reaching for the sheet and instinctively pulling it over herself in an attempt at modesty.
The green irises glinted in the dark like a cat’s eyes, as though her surprise, her annoyance and her sudden shyness amused him.
‘Don’t be afraid, Luz. I’ve come to apologize. To explain myself,’ he murmured calmly.
At first she looked at him in silence, making out in the shadows the lean, tanned frame of the man whose body she knew almost as well as her own, but whose eyes remained to her as impenetrable as a moonless night.
‘Did I not make myself clear when I told you I didn’t want to have anything more to do with you?’ she said coldly, trying to sound convincing, although her voice quivered a little. ‘Please go.’
His jaw contracted. ‘Hear me out and then decide. Even a criminal is given a chance to defend himself.’
He had caused her more than her fair share of pain so how could she be sure she could trust him to tell the truth? With an effort she hardened her heart.
‘I’m not interested in what you have to say. You’ve told me lie after lie, so why should I believe anything you say now?’
His eyes gleamed again, but this time with something like panic. He reached out and skimmed her cheek with his fingers. Luz’s reaction was instant. She pulled away from him as though his touch had scorched her, as indeed it had, with so many feelings she could not begin to describe, but she remained silent so he could not detect the emotions his proximity had unleashed.
‘Luz, give me the chance to explain,’ he pleaded softly, his voice infinitely sad.
‘Why should I?’ she uttered hoarsely. She glared up at him, though her heart compressed painfully. ‘So you can hurt me again? So you can use me while you prepare for your wedding with Doña Adalia Herrera?’
‘What are you talking about?’ In the shadows she could almost discern his frown. ‘There’s no wedding, Luz. Adalia and I have known each other since childhood. She’s a partner in my company and, though she can be difficult sometimes, I still value her as a friend. My interest in her stops there.’
Luz let out a low, bitter laugh. All previous rational thought had given way to her chaotic emotions now. She shook her head. ‘Still lying, still trying to pull the wool over my eyes, even now. You are really incorrigible.’
‘I give you my word of honour …’
‘What honour?’ she retorted derisively, wanting to lash out at him and hurt him as much as he had hurt her with his duplicity.
Andrés pressed his lips together in a thin line but ignored her barbed insinuation. ‘Adalia is nothing more to me than I’ve just told you. We dated once, many years ago, but it wasn’t right and to be honest, I’ve known she’s had designs on me, on and off, since then,’ he explained. ‘But believe me, Luz, her feelings are one sided.’
‘Is that so?’ She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice. ‘Anyone seeing you together would think you were a couple. You’ve not exactly gone out of your way to discourage her. Did you ever think how humiliating it must have been for me at your party, barely acknowledged by my own lover, whose attention was entirely taken up by that creature hanging on his arm?’
He sighed. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. But try to look at it from my perspective, Luz. As I said, as well as a friend of the family, Adalia is my business partner, and a good one at that. She helped organize the party and I was grateful to her.’ He raised his hand to prevent Luz from interrupting.
‘Yes, I know, I’ve probably indulged her more than I should. I stuck my head in the sand, I suppose, to preserve the status quo. There would have been repercussions for our families and the business had I rejected her outright. Anyhow, I finally told her, in no uncertain terms, that I would never marry her, which is all she’s interested in. I’m sure that in the next few days I will receive a letter asking me to dissolve our partnership and buy both Adalia and Lorenzo out.’
Luz’s pulse quickened faintly. She stared at him. Could she dare hope? A soul-destroying voice told her to be reckless and give herself up to her need, her passion and her love. But she had to smother it before it vanquished her pride.
‘Please go,’ came her low, gutteral reply.
But Andrés knew her too well; he had always been able to read her. Even now, as they spoke in mo
onlit shadows, he had no need to see her features to detect the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her or her ache for him. She could sense it quivering in the air between them. He sat on the side of the bed, almost close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, and she swallowed as he leaned towards her.
‘Querida, hear me out. Whether Leandro or Andrés, my love for you has always been true. It has never wavered. Think back, I have always been there. Does that count for nothing in your book?’ he whispered.
A shaft of moonlight fell on his face. He looked distraught, his green eyes shining with emotion. ‘I’m not asking you to give yourself up to me and trust me immediately. All I want is for you to listen to what I have to say and then maybe you’ll give me another chance.’
He was not hiding his vulnerability from her and she could feel herself weakening. The knowledge of just how easy it would be to succumb to those woeful eyes sent a shiver of exquisite anticipation rushing up her spine. She knew she still loved him, still needed him; still wanted him. She must be crazy; had she forgotten all the reasons she had for hating him?
‘What possible story could you invent to exonerate you from those months of deceit? And why should I believe you?’ she went on inexorably, twisting the knife.
‘The facts are sad and complicated. Some aspects of them are not so good but, at the time, they seemed justifiable because I had every intention of making up for them. You’re a warm, generous woman, Luz, and I just had to trust to that.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’
Andrés sighed. He stared at her, his expression pained. ‘I love you, Luz,’ he said softly. His body was taut; she could see he had difficulty in keeping it in check.
‘Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me and I will not press you any more. I’ll walk out of your life,’ he said, cupping her face gently in his palm and turning it to face him.
His hand was warm, the feel of him as electrifying as she remembered. And the magic was working for she was mesmerized by his compelling eyes, the softness in his voice, the tenderness of his touch. He was subtly different, the gypsy and hidalgo both present before her in a strange combination of passion and self-control. Emotions were spiralling swiftly out of control inside her. Oh, how she had missed him! Remembering the first time she had set eyes on him, she hastily tossed out a question that had been niggling her since his identity had been revealed.
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