by Kay Thorpe
AN APPLE IN EDEN by KAY THORPE
When Eve's flighty young sister got engaged to an unknown Spaniard over in the Canary Islands, Eve thought she ought to go there herself and investigate the matter, and find out what this Juan Perestrello was like. She found, for a start, that he had a twin brother, Ramon . .
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OTHER Harlequin Romances by KAY THORPE
1237—THE LAST OF THE MALLORYS 1272—DEVON INTERLUDE 1355—RISING STAR 1504—CURTAIN CALL 1583—SAWDUST SEASON 1609—NOT WANTED ON VOYAGE 1661—OLIVE ISLAND
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Original hard cover edition published in 1973 by Mills & Boon Limited.
© Kay Thorpe 1973
ISBN 373-01756-1
Harlequin edition published February 1974
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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CHAPTER ONE
FROM Lisbon right down to the Algarve the whole of the western coastline of Portugal seemed to be one continuous stretch of gleaming white sand. Looking down on it from thirty thousand feet, Eve recalled the holiday she and Lynn had spent together somewhere along that blue-edged line a couple of years back. Even then the differences in their respective personalities had been beginning to make themselves felt in a way which boded ill for their future relationship, she supposed. Lynn had always been headstrong, and losing both their parents when she was only fifteen had not helped.
Barely twenty herself at the time, Eve had done the best she could, but her best apparently had not been good enough. Lynn's announcement at nineteen that she had found herself a job as an au pair with a family in Spain had come as no real surprise. Eve had seen her go with trepidation, existed through three months of occasional postcards and even more occasional letters, and waited fatalistically for this whim to fade along with all the others. Instead, like a bolt from the blue, had come the letter telling her that her sister was engaged to a Spaniard and was now staying on the island of Tenerife with her fiancé's family, enclosed within another rather longer epistle expressing the wish that Eve would accept the enclosed ticket and make
the journey to meet with the Perestrellos at the earliest opportunity.
Under the circumstances the bank had raised no objections to bringing forward her annual holiday from August to mid-June. And so here she was, Eve Raynor, on her way to the Canaries, the Perestrellos, and a sister who seemed suddenly even further away from her than she had realised.
As the southern tip of Portugal fell away to the rear, Eve leaned her head back against the seat and tried to instil some sense of order into the confusion of the last week. Fact number one to be faced was that Lynn was to marry a man she could hardly have known longer than a few weeks at the most, and one reared to a completely different way of life. It was all too quick, too precipitate; Lynn's decisions always were. Marriage to a doubtless handsome Spaniard—and a comfortably well-heeled one, from the few facts she had let drop in her letter—might seem a very attractive proposition at the present time, but this wasn't something she would be able to simply walk out of when the novelty wore off. She needed to be sure, very sure, that her feelings were real and lasting, and reading between the lines Eve didn't feel convinced herself.
About Juan Perestrello himself she was making an effort to keep an open mind. She knew relatively little of the Spanish as a people, and found it difficult to form any kind of real idea of what to expect. His own letter had been formal, giving away nothing of the writer. Eve had found it cool and impersonal, but that could be due to the necessity of
using English for her benefit. It was easy to mislead when using a language foreign to one. With Lynn herself there would have been little difficulty. Her sister had a flair for languages, and spoke Spanish with reasonable fluency. All the same, there was a great difference between living in a country for a few months and settling there permanently.
Not surprisingly, as she had slept little during the previous few nights, she dozed intermittently during the two-hour flight across the Atlantic, rousing in time to see the magnificent peak of Mount Teide rearing proudly through the blanket of white cloud which cloaked this northern side of Tenerife. A few minutes later they were out of the cloud and steadily losing height over a red-brown landscape laced with green and scarred in many places by the new excavations where the once tiny coastal villages were fast expanding to keep pace with the ever-growing holiday trade. Then they were over the line of lowlying hills, and the airport lay below.
It was raining when Eve alighted from the coach which had brought the passengers from the plane to the terminal buildings. It was also decidedly chilly, and she shivered suddenly in the thin linen suit which had seemed more than adequate at Gatwick that morning. Seen from down here, the cloud looked almost to be touching the hills backing the stretch of stressed concrete, scudding across the sky in a manner which made mock of the Greek name for these islands.
Inside the building there was warmth and colour
and life—a lot of life. From this side of passport control, Eve scanned the faces of those waiting on the other side, but Lynn's was not among them. As the queue shuffled forward she became aware of the man leaning nonchalantly against the barrier, his gaze searching the faces before him in much the same way as her own. Even as she noticed him their glances met and held, and she felt the colour rise sharply and ridiculously to her cheeks at the sudden leap of speculation in the dark eyes of the Spaniard. She looked quickly away to study a nearby notice board with the intensity of non-comprehension, moved forward again and found herself opposite the desk and putting her passport meekly into the hand held out for it.
Then she was through,- and the man at the barrier was straightening his lean length and moving forward to accost her.
'Lynn didn't do you full justice,' he said in excellent English. 'The green eyes and the russet hair I recognised, but she forgot to say just how attractive you really are.' Before Eve could move he bent forward and kissed her lightly on both cheeks, his eyes glinting with amusement at the look on her face. 'It's the customary greeting within the family. I'm only anticipating by a few weeks. Did you have a good journey?'
'Yes, very good.' Eve added swiftly, 'Where is Lynn? Hasn't she come with you?'
The amusement deepened into mockery, sudden and unwonted. `No, she is waiting for you at the villa. I came straight here from Santa.' He took
her arm, turning her about. 'Come, we must collect your luggage.'
Conscious of the firmness of the long brown fingers through the thin material of her sleeve, Eve stole a glance at him, trying to assess the man behind the rakishly handsome face and taunting manner. Juan Perestrello was totally unlike any of her imaginings, totally unlike any other man she had ever met. About thirty, she guessed, and experienced enough for a man ten years older. It was in his eyes, his voice, his whole attitude towards a woman. And this was the man Lynn was to marry. Lynn, her baby sister, not yet out of her teens!
With her suitcase claimed they went swiftly out through swing doors on to a narrow forecourt a
nd across to a long low coupe parked under a wall. Seconds later, Juan was in the driving seat and they were moving out to follow a coach down the slope to the roadway.
'You'll find it very much warmer than this where we are going,' he offered when they had been moving several minutes, accurately reading her thoughts. 'In the mountains we are always above the cloud which sometimes covers the northern part of the island.' He flicked a deliberate glance over her trim figure and slender legs, and smiled. 'The minimum of clothing becomes an advantage during the heat of the day. Lynn spends many hours in the swimming pool. She has brightened the scenery around and about the villa considerably, your sister.'
Eve resisted the impulse to pull her skirt further
down over her knees, and decided that the only way to deal with Juan Perestrello was by using his own tactics.
'Why do you want to marry my sister?' she demanded.
The atmosphere in the car changed subtly. There was a short silence, then he said evenly, 'Why does a man marry a woman in your country?'
'Well, various reasons.'
'Love, I assume, is among them?'
'Of course.' Despite herself Eve could feel the warmth creeping into her cheeks. 'Only sometimes it's not ... I mean ...'
'Ah ! His voice was soft and mocking. 'You think that I saw your sister and wanted her, and could have her no other way. Yes?'
`No ... well ...' Eve floundered again before the taunting glance. 'It's just that you don't somehow seem the marrying type,' she murmured defensively.
'I don't?' The mobile left eyebrow lifted once more. 'You interest me. Tell me more about myself.'
'There isn't any more,' she said weakly. `I-I told you it was just a feeling. I'm sorry.'
'You have no cause to apologise. Neither do you need to worry about Lynn.' He said it with candour. 'You can rest assured that she's very much loved.'
Eve had to believe him, yet somehow the assurance gave her no comfort. She looked out of the window as they came down into the town, at the
twin towers of the cathedral rising on her left. La Laguna, once the capital city of the island, and now a university town as well as a holiday centre. Soon they turned off to the right and began to climb almost immediately into the foothills. Within minutes the cloud had lifted and broken, revealing clear blue skies and bright hot sunshine, and a view across the village to the sea, with the white sprawl which must be the port of Santa Cruz already falling behind.
'How did you and Lynn meet?' she asked eventually, feeling a need to break the silence which had fallen between them.
'She will tell you herself,' he answered. 'I would hate to spoil her story.' There was a note in his voice which Eve couldn't quite define. 'Meanwhile, I promise you that you're quite safe with me, chica.'
'It never occurred to me that I might not be,' she came back with as much dignity as she could muster, and saw the glint appear in his eyes again.
'I think it did, but we'll let it pass. Perhaps while you're here we can do something to alter your opinion of the Latin male. You are looking for a husband yourself?'
'No.'
'Then you should be. In Spain you would already be the mother of three at your age. Our girls marry young and stay married.' White teeth flashed in a smile. 'The little ones keep them out of mischief.'
'What a wonderful reason for having children,' she said with sarcasm, and succeeded only in widening the smile into a grin.
'It's not the only one, I assure you. A husband must prove his virility for the satisfaction of all.'
Eve tried to imagine Lynn as a mother, and failed utterly. She still found it difficult to think of her as a wife—particularly the wife of this man next to her. Lynn was so young, so immature—unless she had changed radically during her three months away from England, and that seemed unlikely. Yet Eve could have been sure that a man like Juan Perestrello would seek far more in any woman than just a pretty face and a winning manner, much less the one he was to marry.
They were climbing now through a forest of pine trees affording breathtaking glimpses of the valley floor far below. Ahead, between two lower peaks, was the first clear glimpse of the volcano itself, an inverted cone with its top depressed by some giant finger. There were occasional villas among the trees, few and far between and luxurious. The air coming in through the opened windows was clean and warm and heady with the scent of the pines.
'Not so far now,' remarked Juan when they had passed the twelve-mile stone out of Laguna. 'The villa stands at almost four thousand feet above sea level. In winter we sometimes have snow drifting down on to our doorstep.'
'You speak very good English,' said Eve diffidently, and the smile flashed again.
'For a foreigner, you mean. I went to school in your country for four years at the insistence of my father, who was half English himself.'
'Oh?' She gave him a startled glance. 'Then
you
'Have the same blood as yourself running in my veins,' he finished for her. 'Though very much diluted. You might almost say that we were cousins of a kind, chica, even before this.'
'Which side?' she asked, ignoring the last. Your father, I mean.'
'Maternal. Abuela lives down in Orotava with another of her sons since my grandfather died five years ago.' His tone altered, lost its mocking quality. 'An exceptional woman, capable of bending even Abuelo to her will when she so chose. You must meet her while you're here.'
While she was here. Two weeks. In that moment it suddenly seemed barely enough, though for what she wasn't quite sure.
'You said very little about your family in your letter,' she ventured. 'Is your own mother still alive?'
'Yes. Very much so.' He slanted a glance. 'It's still the Spanish custom for a whole family to occupy the same home, and for the elders to be venerated as such by children and in-laws alike. Whilever she is alive Madre is head of our own household.'
Nominally at least, thought Eve, wondering if the emphasis had been for her benefit or in mental reaffirmation of some previous similar statement to Lynn. She could imagine her sister's reactions to the realisation that she would be number two female in her new home on her marriage; Lynn, who was used to being the kingpin in all her relationships. There would have been, or was going to be,
a whole lot of adjustment needed if this marriage was going to work out, and from what Eve had already gleaned about the man at her side, most of it would have to come from Lynn herself.
Juan made no attempt to enlighten her further on the affairs of the Perestrellos, and Eve could not bring herself to ask any more questions. Shortly afterwards they turned off the road through a pair of iron gates, and ran along a rough gravel drive through the trees until they eventually emerged into a broad clearing overlooking the valley and the distant sea. The villa stood back, impressive in its size, beautiful in its clean lines and balconied upper storey from which flowers and foliage spilled in profusion down the dazzlingly white walls. The front door was heavily studded Moorish style, set back under an arch. Fretted iron grilles covered the ground floor windows.
'Madre disliked almost everything about the place when my father first brought her here to see it,' confided Juan as he brought the car to a halt. 'Now she would live nowhere else. For myself, I think that the mountains contain the most beautiful of all the scenery on the island.' With scarcely a pause, he added, 'We'll find Lynn by the pool at this hour. She has no belief in the value of a cool hour in her room. Leave your case where it is. It will be taken directly to your room.'
Eve drew back the hand which had gone out automatically for the suitcase on the rear seat, and got out of the car before he had time to come round and open the door for her. Obviously amused, he
said, 'You differ greatly from your sister. She appreciates all of the small courtesies a man can offer a woman. Are you always so independent, or is it simply that I—how would you say it—rub you the wrong way?'
He was too near the mark for comfort; Eve had the feeling that he often
would be. 'Perhaps I'm just not used to it,' she returned lightly. 'May I see Lynn right away?'
'Of course.' He indicated the paved pathway which curved out of sight around the far corner of the villa. 'We'll go by way of the grounds and come upon her by surprise.'
Accompanying him, Eve thought wryly that it surely wasn't too much to expect that Lynn might have made the effort to greet her at the door. Her sister certainly had not gained in thoughtfulness during her absence from home.
Backing on to the forest, the grounds to the side and rear of the villa were not extensive, but well laid out and carefully nurtured. The pool was set within a three-sided courtyard of white stone grille-work which formed a trap of reflected heat. Lynn lay gracefully on a long lounger under a gay umbrella, her slender curves covered by the briefest of bikinis, her long blonde hair tucked up under a matching scarf. She came swiftly to a sitting position as their footsteps impinged upon her consciousness, whipping off the dark glasses which were almost as large as her lovely face and smiling with all of the considerable charm of which she was capable.
'Evie I'm so glad to see you! Did you have a good journey?'
It was the same Lynn, sparkling, effervescent, and infinitely dear. The same—yet somehow not the same. Her eyes were too bright, her cheeks too flushed. Aware of Juan's presence, Eve found it difficult to act naturally as she kissed her sister's cheek and made the expected replies. She accepted the chair he pushed forward into the shade without looking at him.
'I can still hardly believe that I'm really here,' she said. 'It was all a bit of a shock.'
Lynn pouted prettily. 'Don't scold, Eve, there's a dear. I know I should have let you know before Juan brought me to the island, but everything happened so quickly. How is Gavin ?'
'Very well,' Eve replied steadily. 'And I wasn't scolding, just commenting. Juan said on the way here that you would ...'