by Kim Lawrence
`You like to show me how much?' Javier asked, touching the tasteful grey silk.
Shaking her head, Kate backed off. `No way!' If she got that close she didn't think she'd be able to resist the temptation to touch his lean jaw where already a faint shadow was just visible.
Javier accepted the rejection with a philosophical shrug; clearly he was never likely to lack candidates eager to loosen his tie. In fact, Kate found it extraordinarily easy to imagine his tie being ripped off by eager hands; in this imaginary scene his tie was closely followed by his shirt.
They walked along in silence and without Kate's heels to contend with it wasn't long before they reached the crest of the hill and the small church came into view.
`How pretty!' she exclaimed.
Javier looked pleased by her appreciation. `Yes, isn't it? It's very old. My grandfather and grandmother were married here. They met in Madrid after the war; her parents were diplomats and she was engaged to a-junior consul. There was an enormous scandal when they ran away.'
`And they ended up here?
'Yes, she always had a soft spot for the island after that.'
There was no particular reason why this information should make her feel even worse than she already did about what they were doing, but somehow it did. Kate had been uneasy from the beginning about a church ceremony but Javier had been firm, explaining that in his grandfather's eyes a civil ceremony was not worth the paper it was printed on.
`That's why you brought me here, to impress him...?'
'My grandfather is not a man easily impressed. I just thought that this would be a nice place to be married with little fuss, but now you mention it the continuity will please the old man.'
It sounded as though Javier's grandfather was big on tradition and continuity.
`So you picked this place so that nobody you know would see us and ask awkward questions?' she concluded dully. A perfectly logical thing for him to do under the circumstances, so why did it bother her so much...?
Kate was taken by surprise when Javier caught her hands; she winced as his fingers closed tightly around her wrists, immediately he let her go.
`Did I hurt you?'
Kate didn't know what he was talking about until she saw his eyes were fixed on her wrists. `I'll live,' she replied, rubbing her wrists.
`I do not run away and hide,' he replied clearly outraged at the suggestion. `If anyone asks me questions I don't want to answer, I don't reply.'
`I get the picture. If bullets were whistling past your head it would be beneath your dignity to get down in the dirt with everyone else.'
`I think you'll find I have a pretty well-developed sense of self-preservation.'
`But not common sense. I see now that the idea of you keeping a low profile was a pretty daft one. You're too pigheaded.'
`If you've quite finished calling me names, come sit here.'
Kate could cope pretty well with his I’m-in-charge manner-he probably didn't even know he was doing it--but the sight of his long, tapering brown fingers curled, gently this time, around her smaller paler hands... That was another matter entirely. Kate's coping mechanisms were not built to deal with that! Such a silly thing, but she fell to pieces inside.
She didn't resist as he drew her to the side of the road, where he indicated she should sit down on a large, smooth rock. This weak capitulation was outweighed by her success in resisting the strong impulse to rub her cheek against his hand.
`Look., someone's left flowers,' she said painting at the pretty nosegay propped up beneath a crude but beautiful statue of the Madonna.
She watched puzzled as Javier went over to the place. Careful not to disturb the flowers, he squatted down beside a small bubble of water that gurgled out of the ground into a small pool. Her covetous gaze clung with helpless fascination to the supple lines of his back; it was turning out that there was barely any part of his anatomy her fertile imagination could not spin erotic fantasies around.
`This spring is meant to have magical powers,' he explained as he cupped his hands and let them fill with the fresh water.
`What sort of magical powers?' she asked as he walked towards her, shiny drops of water falling like bright jewels from between his cupped fingers onto the parched ground below.
Javier knelt at her feet.
Finally seeing his intention, an astonished Kate drew back her feet. `You can't...' she protested.
`I'm not marrying a woman with dirty feet.'
`I didn't think Monteros performed menial tasks.' It wasn't the menial nature of the task that bothered her, it was the uncomfortable intimacy.
`Don't provoke, Kate, just give me your damned foot.' His tone was exasperated, nothing very lover-like about that, which ought to make her feel better ... ought! Reluctantly, she extended her foot.
Javier looked so long at the her slim calf and slender ankle that Kate finally cleared her throat noisily.
When he lifted his head jerkily at the sound, there was an odd, unfocused expression on his face.
The water he trickled slowly over her hot, dusty extremity was so icily cold that she gasped.
He grinned at her reaction. `1 forgot to warn you, it's cold.'
The eyes that rested on her face were not cold, they were warm. She looked hurriedly away as one of the little jolts of sexual awareness she was coming to recognise so well knifed through her body.
`Now he tells me,' she grumbled, angling her arm as casually as she could across her chest to hide the brazen thrust of her nipples. This was sexual craving of a type she'd never experienced in her life before; having come to terms with her apparent low sex drive, this transformation was hard to get her head around.
She sat there passively while he repeated the process with the other foot; it seemed to take him an eternity. If anyone had suggested this morning that having a man pour cold water over your hot feet could be a deeply erotic experience, she would have thought they were mildly deviant.
`Those magical powers you were talking about,' she asked, more from a desperate need to distract herself from the dangerous frissons of pleasure his lightest touch evoked than any genuine desire for an explanation, `what are they?'
Javier shook his hands free of the moisture clinging to them and rose lithely to his feet, mockery danced in his eyes. `Fertility.'
`Oh!'
The amused lines radiating from his eyes deepened as she blushed.
`Local folklore has it that women wanting to conceive who drink from here will bear a son,' he explained solemnly.
Kate looked at the innocent trickle of water and laughed nervously. `Do people still believe things like that?' she joked.
Javier didn't smile back.
`Well, I'd say from the floral offering that someone does ... wouldn't you ... ?
'But you don't?' Kate flashed him an incredulous look at his lean, guarded features. `Do you...?' She shook her head unable to reconcile the notion of this sophisticated man believing in a superstitious myth.
He shrugged. 'I'm not superstitious, but I respect other people's beliefs, and I do believe that we are in danger of losing many things of value by turning our backs on our roots.'
Kate was astonished; Javier was the last person in the world she would ever have imagined voicing such opinions.
`Personally, I'm quite happy to leave the fear, bigotry and superstition in the past,' she told him with a shudder.
`Are you sure it isn't your own fear that bothers you...fear of things that you can't explain away with twenty-first century science...?' he challenged.
`Rubbish!' she denied. 'I'm just not going to campaign for a return of witch-burning.'
`Maybe you have a personal interest there.'
`Are you calling me a witch?' Kate demanded indignantly.
For a moment he stood there, looking down at the barefooted figure at his feet, hair spread like a bright nimbus around a delicately flushed face. `I can't think of any other explanation,' he replied sard
onically. `Put your shoes on,' he added tersely, before Kate had time to puzzle over his cryptic response or even the peculiar expression on his saturnine features. `The wedding can't start without us.'
Kate's stomach muscles quivered at the reminder. `You're an extremely bossy man,' she remarked, staring indecisively at his outstretched hand.
A satisfied expression slid into Javier's eyes as her slim hand was placed cautiously within his, even if the manner of it getting there did remind him of a child daring to explore forbidden territory.
From the Outset of this reckless enterprise all Javier had wanted was her co-operation; now gaining her trust seemed to occupy his thoughts almost as much as the attractions of her body did. He had to constantly remind himself that possessing that body would create all kinds of complications; his own body didn't always listen to these warnings.
`But I have many redeeming qualities,' he assured her as he heaved her to her feet with a grunt.
Kate dusted down her dress and sent him a wry look from under her lashes. `I bet a female told you that.'
`More than one actually.'
`Smug, conceited, bossy and superstitious,' she observed with a superior expression.
`Everyone is superstitious, to some extent, be it the footballer with his lucky pair of socks or the banker who flicks salt over his shoulder,' Javier contended. `Not me.'
`You sure about that?
'Absolutely,' she told him with an emphatic little tilt of her chin.
`Prove it,' he challenged softly.
`What... ?' Kate shook her head and laughed uneasily. `There's no way I can prove it.'
`There is. Drink some water from the spring.' 'I'm not thirsty.'
A dark brow lifted. `Like I said,' he drawled. `Everyone is superstitious.'
Kate gritted her teeth, unable to stomach his triumphal air a second longer. `If it's contaminated, I'll know who to blame,' she grumbled as she picked her way over the uneven ground. She extended her hand beneath the ice-cool drops and then, with a defiant glare in his direction, raised it to her mouth-the water was sweet and icy cold.
`Well...?' she challenged him, wiping the excess moisture from her lips with the back of her hand.
His darkened glance dwelt on the full, moist outline; when he spoke his voice had a husky strained quality. `I'm impressed.'
Despite his immediate capitulation Kate was left with the uneasy feeling that somehow she'd done exactly what he wanted.
They were only a few feet away from the church, which Kate found was even prettier close to, when a stone bench built into the wall, which had previously been hidden from view by the overhanging lemon trees, came into sight.
A couple were sitting in the shade talking in quiet voices; their whole manner to one another made it clear they were not strangers. Kate felt a sudden unexpected stab of envy.
It was Kate's cry as her heel caught on a stray stone in the road that made both turn.
The woman immediately sprang to her feet, an expression of uncomplicated delight on her face; the man beside her with the dark-haired baby in his arms did so more sedately.
'Javier! You're here…finally!' The petite figure cried as she rushed forward. `This is so exciting, I can't believe it! Marriage... !'
Beside her Kate felt Javier tense; she heard the sibilant hiss of his shocked intake of breath. Without stopping to analyse the impulse that drove her to do so, Kate caught his hand and squeezed hard.
Javier's head turned sharply he looked from Kate's concerned face, dominated by a pair of wide troubled eyes desperately trying to telegraph comfort, to their tightly clasped hands and back again. The restive glint slowly faded from his eyes and he smiled.
It was no ordinary smile. Kate caught her breath; every instinct told her this was one of those special moments. The sight of lemon trees, the scent of jasmine on a warm afternoon, would always hold a special meaning for her in future; they'd unlock this memory. She could almost hear the sound of something deep inside-maybe her reserve snapping?-as the warmth of his eyes caressed her before he turned to the other woman. There was no hint of any underlying trauma in his manner as he responded to her greeting.
'Sarah!'
Now she had time to look properly, Kate was stunned to discover the love of Javier's life, far from being the supermodel material she'd expected, was a tiny creature with big blue eyes, a cute button nose complete with freckles and an extraordinarily sweet smile. She was extremely feminine, the sort of woman that brought out the chivalrous instincts in men-they evidently had done in Javier. Kate, who had never in her life wanted to be protected by a man, experienced an irrational pang of envy.
`This is Kate,' Javier said, drawing her forwards.
You had to hand it to him, Kate conceded as she smiled stiltedly. Nobody watching him operate would guess the proprietorial pride was not the genuine article-so long as you remember it isn't, Katie, the spoilsport voice of common sense in, her head inserted wryly.
`Kate, this is Sarah, and of course you already know Serge, and the little one is Raul. Madre mia, but he's grown since I saw him last,' he observed, reaching out to tentatively touch the head of the sleeping baby.
`That's because you don't come and see us nearly often enough,' the baby's mother returned reproachfully. She turned to Kate. `Perhaps now you'll be able to make him come see us once in a while,' she appealed.
'I'll do my best.' Well, she could hardly admit her influence was nil, because it was abundantly clear that this woman thought the marriage she was about to witness was for real.
Miss Anderson...' The swarthy-skinned man who had witnessed the worst indignities of her life nodded diffidently as their eves met.
Kate felt an embarrassed tide of colour wash over her skin. Now here was someone who didn't, who couldn't, think the marriage was for real!
'Kate,' she corrected stiltedly. `Very nice to see you again...' she lied fluently. `And quite a surprise,' she added, throwing Javier an acid look of reproach which the rat pretended not to see, but as Sarah was nestling affectionately up to him maybe he didn't, she thought, experiencing a nasty stab of something that felt scarily like jealousy.
Her smile was bright and ever so slightly desperate as she hurriedly turned her attention back to the thick-set figure beside her. Though he didn't come right out and call her a liar, she could tell from his expression that Serge didn't believe in her delight at renewing their acquaintance.
Or maybe paranoia was setting in! The way today was going it seemed best to assume the worst.
She watched as he carefully adjusted the sunhat on the tiny head of the baby, who continued to cling limpet-like to his massive chest. She sighed. Forget flashy cars, and as far as she was concerned there were fewer sights more guaranteed to thaw a woman's heart than the sight of a big, brawny man with a tiny baby.
Javier could at least have warned her about who one of their witnesses was to be.
The embarrassment she could cope with if she had to, but being pitched headlong into the middle of a situation that had all the ingredients of a Greek tragedy was another matter!
Javier loved Serge's wife, but did Serge know...? Did Sarah know ...if so, all that touchy feely stuff with Javier was a bit below the belt!
Talk about love triangles!
As she looked back to the previous occasions she'd seen the two men together, acting very much as a team, Kate couldn't recall witnessing any tension or underlying hostile currents between them. That of course didn't necessarily mean there was none...
`What a lovely baby.' In her experience, admiring their offspring was always a good way to please parents, but in this case her observations were nothing but the truth; the sleeping child was quite beautiful.
`Well, don't I rate a hug with you these days, big guy...?' she heard Sarah chide.
From the corner of her eye she was aware that an enthusiastic embrace was being exchanged. Worriedly she looked at Serge and saw he was already watching them
; to her relief he seemed to view the proceedings with an air of faint indulgence.
Indulgence wasn't the first emotion she experienced when she got her first proper look at the hug-fest. She was a big fan of spontaneity and definitely no prude, but to Kate's way of thinking this was way over the top!
For someone so fragile-looking, Sarah had managed to get a pretty firm grip around Javier's neck and was pressing some vigorous kisses to his lean cheeks and mouth. If she did know of Javier's feelings for her, Sarah's actions could only be termed callous and uncaring, Kate decided indignantly. She looked away as Javier placed the fairy-like figure back on the floor, troubled by her ambivalent reaction to the spectacle.
Seeing the sparkle of tears in the other woman's eyes. Kate found it impossible to hold on to her antipathy.
`I didn't know if you'd have time so I picked these from our garden...I hope you don't mind...?' She thrust out a bunch of flowers tied together with a blue velvet ribbon and then a small package towards Kate.
`Thank you!' Kate exclaimed feeling horribly guilty about her uncharitable thoughts towards this woman who exuded a wide-eyed sweet sincerity-not qualities she'd have imagined would have attracted Javier, but then men were strange, unpredictable creatures.
`We're just so happy that Javier has found someone to make him happy.'
Kate felt increasingly uncomfortable as Serge produced a tissue for his tearful wife.
`He's the sweetest man in the world, but then why am I telling you?' she sniffed emotionally. `You already know that...'
I know nothing!
Javier didn't respond to her flustered look of appeal in quite the way she'd anticipated.
`Kate thinks I'm bossy and arrogant, don't you, querida?' he drawled.
Thanks for nothing, Javier! She allowed her resentful glare to linger pointedly on his incredibly handsome, mocking face. `Amongst other things.'
You'd have thought it was in his best interest to ensure I don't put my foot in it, but if that's the way he wants to play it, fine!
`You've known him longer than me,' Kate appealed to the other woman. `Has he always fancied himself as an authority figure'?'