Legacy

by Hannah Fielding

  Luna remained perplexed. More than ever, she felt a great question mark hanging over her future. Still, the gypsy’s words had stirred in her an illogical sense of excited anticipation. She collected her things and warmly thanked Morena. As she reached the door, the gypsy called out: ‘Beware of flames, señorita … of fire.’

  Luna turned, appalled. ‘Fire? Am I to be burnt in a fire?’ she croaked.

  ‘Fire has many facets, señorita. It can take many forms,’ the gitana stated obscurely. ‘Just remember, the Queen of the Night has it in her power to triumph over anything.’ She smiled and nodded as Luna hesitated at the threshold to Mascaradas, before slipping out into the street, carrying the glittering costume neatly packed in a box under her arm.

  * * *

  The sun was melting slowly towards dusk when Luna began preparing for the ball. A sense of anticipation and foreboding floated in the air, making her heartbeat flutter. The prospect of seeing Ruy again – for a romantic, glamorous event at a Spanish hacienda, no less – made goosebumps rise on her arms. Added to that, Morena’s ambiguous words still resounded in her head, even though it was not like her to entertain the idea of some cosmic plan controlling everyone’s destiny. Yet, strangely, she was giving it her attention. Despite herself, Luna had cogitated on the gypsy’s predictions, trying to decipher her obscure ramblings about the future. Some of it she found herself holding on to like a light at the end of the tunnel, but most of it remained disturbingly dark.

  Luna took out the Moon Queen costume from the cupboard, removing its transparent dress protector. It shimmered as the fine, silky fabric captured the rays of the dying sun that bathed the room in golden twilight. As she passed her hand over the delicate material, not for the first time marvelling at the celestial quality of the garment, she found herself wondering how Ruy would feel about her choice. She wanted him to be proud of her in front of his family and friends and hoped he wouldn’t think she was deliberately trying to be provocative. After all, it was a very revealing outfit.

  Her cheeks burned as she recalled the outrageously bold and infuriating habit his eyes had of sliding over her. Yet they were wonderful ocean-blue eyes, eyes in which she could drown. A deep surge of adrenaline lit up her irises from clear honey to heated amber, and her heart clamoured with excitement. She was both expectant and afraid. At El Pavón she would be under scrutiny from many quarters and in Ruy’s company all evening. Never before had she felt so painfully unsure of herself. She knew so little of this man who had suddenly taken such a large place in her thoughts. Tonight it was her desire, as well as her job, to find out more.

  Luna wallowed in her scented bubble bath, washed and dried her hair and brushed it until it fell like a shiny silk cloak down her back. She rubbed her whole body with a delicious, fragranced cream that left her skin smooth as satin. Her nails and toenails were painted silver to match her outfit and the character of the Moon Queen. After days of walks around town and on the beach, the sun had touched her skin with a honeyed radiance, so she didn’t need to apply more than the faintest touch of make-up for her face to glow.

  Tall and slender, her body veiled in silver georgette, woven in a yarn that appeared to be from another world, Luna looked the part. The close-fitting bodice was the colour of her skin, giving the illusion that she was naked underneath her costume, dressed merely in lunar vapours.

  Luna sprinkled some fairy dust on to her hair before placing the small tiara on the crown of her head. The diamond teardrop earrings given to her by her father for her twenty-first birthday sparkled in her ears and the matching pendant shimmered just above her deep cleavage, drawing attention to the perfect curve of her breasts.

  She was just slipping on her clear stiletto sandals when the doorbell rang. Her heart lurched wildly and her pulse accelerated. A last glance at herself in the mirror and even she could see the way her eyes glowed. She tried to compose herself and, taking a deep steadying breath, she went downstairs to open the door.

  Ruy stood on the threshold; a commanding presence, magnificent in an Eastern sultan costume made of pure ivory silk. His head was clad in a turban, totally concealing his raven black hair, which meant that attention was immediately drawn to his deep-set eyes, which tonight were dark blue and glittering down on Luna with unconcealed appreciation.

  As she gazed into them, Luna felt trapped in the invisible net they cast. Before she knew it, his head had come down and his lips brushed against hers with a kiss as light as a breath of wind. Warmth flooded her at their contact and she could do nothing to stem the colour it brought to her cheeks.

  ‘Ruy,’ she uttered, her heart skipping wildly and her voice barely above a whisper. ‘How lovely to see you.’ A bit of a cliché as greetings went, Luna thought, but her paralyzed brain had not found anything better to say. Instead, she accepted it in a daze, forgetting her resolution to keep things at a distance with him.

  ‘You look amazing. I found you beautiful from the first moment I set eyes on you, but tonight you are stunning,’ he told her.

  Luna moved aside and he came into the house.

  ‘Let me look at you …’

  Acutely self-conscious, she executed a twirl, finishing with a mock curtsy. Cocking an eyebrow, she tried to make light of his bold perusal. ‘Well? Do I meet with your approval?’

  Luna was fully aware that he was devouring her, his eyes almost the colour of night and dark with desire as they roamed every curve of her body – a look altogether frightening and exhilarating. She still felt the imprint of his feather-light kiss on her lips. All her previous resolutions seemed to be melting in the heat of his gaze. Her nipples were growing taut, thrusting against the silk of her underwear, and she knew that their outline was etched on the fine fabric of her costume.

  Ruy’s sensuous lips curved into a languorous smile. ‘Luna, you look as beguiling as your name … the Queen of the Night.’ His gaze lingered over her face. ‘An enchanting beauty, so ethereal that tonight you actually appear to be made of moonlight.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, still mesmerized by the intense blue of his eyes.

  He was exaggerating of course, in the charming way Latin men had of paying compliments to women, but at his words a thrill of pleasure invaded her veins like a heady wine. Many people had commented on her name before and she had often wondered why her parents had chosen it until her father told her that the full moon was shining through the hospital window when she was born. It had surprised her to find that the name had been her father’s romantic suggestion; in every other way he was so practical, logical and pragmatic – a lot like her, she had to concede. Though for a man who was so compelled by his work ethic, and who never seemed to have any time for the playful or whimsical side of life – or, for that matter, for her – it had provided a tiny insight into a whole different side of him. Still, before Ruy, no one had ever made her name sound quite so exotic. Mentally, she gave herself a shake.

  ‘You look quite spectacular yourself,’ she countered, her eyes dropping to take in the rest of him. ‘A romantic character from ancient times … That’s a wonderful costume you’re wearing.’

  ‘It’s an heirloom. It’s been in the family for almost four generations. My grandfather wore it on the night he met my grandmother. There’s a romantic legend attached to it. I’ll tell you later tonight.’

  Slowly, he ran his eyes up and down the length of her again, this time studying the detail.

  ‘Your costume is stunning, it suits you to perfection. Did you get it at Mascaradas?’

  Luna flashed him a radiant smile. ‘Yes, the young gypsy who sold it to me said that it seemed made for me, and I think she’s right.’ She then assumed an expression of mock seriousness. ‘It seems the power of El Destino extends to fancy dress and fashion accessories too.’

  Ruy gave a shout of laughter. ‘It warms my heart to see that you’re finally grasping the mysterious workings of the universe,’ he chuckled.

  Luna grinned and walked over to the side table,
picking up her shawl and clutch bag, and the black silk mask she had bought from Mascaradas.

  When she turned back to him, his mirth had faded and Ruy was staring at her intently. ‘I’ve been so dazzled by you that I nearly forgot to give you this,’ he said. From under his wide belt, he pulled out a narrow, white velvet mask, decorated with silver moons and stars and covered with a sprinkling of minute diamonds.

  Luna let out a faint gasp. ‘My goodness, it’s beautiful! So suited to my costume too,’ she murmured. ‘How did you know?’

  She was conscious of Ruy’s gaze searching her face, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he moved behind her. ‘Here, let me put it on for you,’ he said in a deep warm voice, as he placed the mask over her eyes. It fitted snugly around her head.

  Then he took the shawl from her hand and laid it around her shoulders. His fingers brushed against her skin and a throbbing sweetness quivered through her, almost eliciting an involuntary gasp of pleasure from her lips. She drew away, recognizing yet another tantalizing flicker of treacherous attraction, one her subconscious was urging her to resist.

  ‘Shall we go?’ he murmured as she looked up at him, wondering if he had sensed her reticence, but not a muscle moved in his face.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ she said with a faint smile as she led the way out of the house.

  With every step she took she could feel Ruy’s eyes searing her back. Again, that mixed feeling of dread and delight invaded her: dread because he was a man who wanted her, and delight because it was Ruy’s eyes burning her. Somewhere amid all of that, there was the worst complication of all. A warning voice whispered she was risking so much more by letting this overpowering electricity between them take hold. One day he would find out who she really was. What would happen then? He would despise her for her duplicity. Oh, she was playing a dangerous game. She blinked slowly and smothered her confusion.

  The maroon-and-black Austin limousine was parked under the giant palm tree. He pulled the passenger door open for Luna, who gathered up the spangled panels of her gown in one arm.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ Ruy said, taking the delicate swathes of fabric from her as Luna gingerly manoeuvred into the seat. He leaned in over her to help tuck the dress panels into the car. They slid open as she moved, baring a long strip of shapely leg and she heard his breath catch.

  Suddenly she felt almost naked. His face was only inches away; she could feel the warmth radiating from it. The light fragrance of his aftershave was spicy and masculine.

  She mumbled an unintelligible ‘thank you’, provoking a smile that did magical things to his eyes. The door shut with a gentle click and he moved round to the other side and eased his lengthy frame behind the wheel.

  ‘I’ll find it easier to drive without this on,’ he said, removing his turban and tossing it on to the back seat in such a relaxed manner, it harked back to the scruffy gypsy singer she had first encountered. His mussed-up hair flopped boyishly over his forehead, making her mouth go dry. She almost flinched, as if she had been seared, when his hand gently reached over to her face and took off her mask. ‘I think you can do without this right now,’ he said with a smile. ‘I want to be able to see your expression while we talk. You’re enigmatic enough as it is.’

  The engine purred into action and the car pulled away from the gravel strip in front of the house. ‘It’s not a long drive to El Pavón,’ Ruy explained as they joined the main road. ‘It’ll take us about half an hour if the roads aren’t too busy. My grandparents’ hacienda is on the outskirts of Jerez.’

  They drove in silence for a while as the violet streaks of the dusky sky sank into evening. The moon was high and the soft night cast a faintly luminous veil over the even landscape.

  ‘Are you always so quiet?’ Ruy asked.

  Luna glanced at him, suddenly aware that she’d been distracted. ‘I don’t think so. Why?’

  ‘Then it must be the effect I have on you.’

  She smiled broadly despite her brooding unease. ‘I’m just wondering why you asked me to your home tonight,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘We’ve only just begun to work together.’

  His mouth twitched as he stared ahead at the road. ‘So, it’ll make getting to know each other easier.’

  ‘We’re virtually strangers. You know nothing about me.’

  ‘True, Señorita Ward. You’re a complete mystery.’

  ‘Oh, there’s nothing mysterious about me,’ Luna said dismissively, yet she knew there were plenty of things about her that she didn’t want Ruy to know.

  His eyes darted sideways at her. ‘Oh, you think so? I never know what’s going on behind those amber eyes of yours.’

  ‘It’s a good thing they’ll be behind a mask tonight, then, so you’ll have double the challenge,’ she quipped.

  ‘Exactly. So in answer to your question, the enigma of your personality makes you the perfect guest tonight,’ he laughed. ‘Masked balls are so mysterious, so romantic, don’t you think? And the El Pavón ball is the most romantic of all.’ He flashed a mischievous smile at her. ‘But the simple truth of why I asked you tonight is that I’m enchanted by you. Haven’t you noticed?’

  Luna didn’t answer. Her eyes shifted away from his dark gaze. He was altogether too flirtatious, too roguishly confident; and he knew it. Handling his charm was difficult enough but, most of all, it was his sexual aura that made her nervous.

  A slight smile played about Ruy’s lips as his gaze returned to the road, now signposted to Jerez. They slowed to join the traffic on the motorway, each side of it bordered with low, scrubby bushes that were lit by the beams of cars moving, as if in gleaming convoy, through the night.

  ‘I know you’re new to Cádiz, but is this your first visit to Spain?’ he asked. ‘Your accent is very good for an American.’

  ‘No, it’s not my first time here. I’m half Spanish. I used to come to Granada for holidays as a child. This is my first visit for a long time.’

  ‘Don’t you like Spain?’

  ‘I wanted to explore other countries. There are so many beautiful places to discover in the world.’ The half-truth rolled off her tongue surprisingly easily. After all, she had spent most of her adult life telling herself the same thing.

  ‘And now that you’ve done your exploring, you have come to settle down here?’

  ‘Maybe for a while,’ she said guardedly. ‘Obviously, once I’ve worked my contract, I’ll review my options.’

  Ruy’s eyes skipped over her with amusement. ‘Your options, I see. What made you come all the way over here to take the job at the Institute?’

  Luna shifted slightly in the soft leather seat. She had blurted out to Señora Sanchez that Angelina’s death had brought her to Cádiz, but there was no way she was going to invite Ruy’s questioning on that subject.

  Instead, she gave the answer she had rehearsed many times in her head, though the deceit rankled. ‘I thought it was time to explore my Spanish roots. Besides, the Institute is getting a lot of press. I was fascinated by the work that you do here.’ That much at least held some truth, she told herself. This was the opportunity she needed to switch the spotlight on to Ruy now.

  She continued: ‘What about you? It takes great conviction to turn your back on conventional medical training and do what you’re doing. How did that happen?’

  For the first time, Luna saw a shadow pass over Ruy’s features. ‘It’s a long story …’ He rubbed his jaw with his hand. ‘Let’s just say that my gypsy heritage had something to do with it. Even as a small boy, I was always interested in natural and traditional methods of healing. Just like you: exploring my roots, I suppose.’

  On the plane he’d mentioned being from a gypsy family, Luna remembered. She instantly forgot that she should be quizzing him about his work at the clinic. His family background was something she found far more compelling.

  ‘Were your parents gypsies?’ she asked.

  He smiled
and shook his head. ‘Not exactly. My father, Andrés de Calderón, discovered he was half gitano when he was a teenager. His real father was Eduardo Raphael Ruiz de Salazar, the famous Spanish Surrealist painter, his mother Marujita, queen of the sea gypsies here in Cádiz – though originally she hailed from Jerez. My father was taken away from his mother at birth and brought up as a gajo – what gitanos call non-gypsies – by Eduardo’s sister and her husband. When he discovered his true parentage, he went to live with the gypsies and stayed with them, on and off, leading a double life for many years.’ Ruy’s hand raked through his hair in the restless motion Luna was becoming accustomed to. ‘By then he was a very successful businessman and a little troubled by his identity.’

  Luna’s eyes widened. ‘I’m not surprised. That’s a very dramatic story.’

  ‘Yes, it is, and one day I’ll tell you the whole tale when I’ve found out more about you.’ He grinned at her.

  ‘But we’re still talking about you,’ she persisted, neatly sidestepping his comment. ‘So, did you know your gypsy family?’

  He chuckled as if appreciating that he’d been elegantly outmanoeuvred. ‘Oh yes, my father took me to the camp regularly from when I was a young boy. He always encouraged me to spend time there. He wanted me to feel that I have gitano blood in me. Yes, he was always drawn to the gypsies …’ His brow creased. ‘That seemed to change as I grew older, though. Most of the time I was left to go there on my own. These days, he seems more preoccupied with his business. I’m the one who spends most time with the gitanos. They’re like my extended family.’

  Luna recognized the tiny nuance of disappointment in his voice when Ruy spoke of his father. Wasn’t that a feeling she knew all too well? She’d spent a lifetime persuading herself that she liked being alone, that it was fine that her father was preoccupied with work, but now that she was in Spain it was as if the tight bud of her emotions, so long held in check, had somehow loosened and unfurled. Suddenly she was not afraid to admit to herself that although she had been self-sufficient – all her life, it seemed – she had been lonely … and with the loss of Angelina, that feeling of isolation had only intensified.