Jealousy mixed with denial in Luna’s feelings. The anger she had felt at the ball resurfaced. Was Ruy’s idea of treating a woman honourably to switch affections when his advances were rejected? Perhaps this ‘Sabrina’ would be the one he’d be concentrating on now. Luna had thought he was different to other men, but he’d turned out to be just like all the rest.
She was better off alone.
A tremor raced through her as she became conscious of what such a thought actually meant: by running from any close relationship, at best she was condemning herself to a life halflived, just as Ruy had told her; at worst, a desolate lifetime of loneliness. Was that what she really wanted?
She gave a sigh of utter weariness as she leant back against the bed’s headboard and closed her eyes. What an evening! She could not remember a time when she had been so mentally exhausted.
Luna climbed out of bed and opened one side of the window. Having been cold before, now she was hot and restless. She breathed in the briny air blowing in from the sea and rested her forehead against the window frame.
If she was going to lie awake, Luna thought, she ought to be thinking about how she was going to handle working alongside Ruy, not about a kiss that should never have happened, however wild and passionate, from a man who was practised in seducing women and moved on as soon as he found something more enticing to chase.
Yes, she reasoned, perhaps it was for the best that Ruy had found a diversion in that young gypsy girl. At least it would make it less awkward working together if she wasn’t constantly trying to avoid his attentions. It would be easier for her to focus on the job in hand, she reflected bleakly.
Her thoughts returned to her assignment. However he had treated her in private, so far, professionally, Ruy was not the man she’d anticipated from her initial research on him. Still, wasn’t this partly what she was here to find out, an impartial investigation into his work and the practices of the Institute?
One thing was for sure: tomorrow she would have to harden her resolve to ignore Ruy’s effect on her and concentrate on getting her hands on as many case files as she could. Ted would be expecting an update by the end of the week. Besides, the quicker she worked, the sooner she could return to New York.
Luna returned to bed. She would not think about Ruy any more, she promised herself; certainly not in a physical way. She pulled a pillow towards her and squeezed it hard against her chest. Her eyes, now finally heavy with exhaustion, slowly began to close.
She fell into a deep sleep and, with it, came more dreams. This time of sensuous masculine lips on hers in a hot, stormy kiss that seemed to go on forever.
* * *
On Monday evening, Luna sat in the laboratory at the Institute, working late. Huddled over a row of test tubes, she had finally wrestled her concentration back to a near-normal level today and, as always happened when she was troubled, had thrown herself even more intensely into her work.
With a determined effort to banish thoughts of Ruy, she had kept herself busy during the remainder of the weekend by driving into Cádiz and sitting with her laptop in a café in the Old Town, going over her notes. Still, that explosive kiss at the masked ball kept simmering in the back of her mind. The passion and fire of it spoke of pure lust, yet his whispered words of tenderness made it dangerously easy for her to imagine there was more than mere lust behind it … until he had left her in the blink of an eye to run after another woman.
She’d expected Ruy to ring her on the Sunday to attempt an apology – it would have been easy enough for him to obtain her mobile number from the Institute’s files – but her phone remained silent. Had he tried to call, she wouldn’t have answered an unknown number just in case it was him, but perversely she was irritated that he hadn’t made the slightest endeavour to do so.
When Luna had arrived at work that morning, Charo had informed her that Ruy was at a conference all day and would probably not be in until the next day. Glad to have another day’s reprieve from the embarrassment of facing him again, not to mention the effort it would take to keep her anger in check, Luna had spent some useful time with Charo, getting to know the ropes a little more. They spent a while discussing some of the more interesting of the Institute’s case studies which, on the face of it, she had to admit, reflected impressive results.
Finding out discreetly where the patient files were kept, Luna had then holed herself up in her office for a few more hours, poring over the documents, along with reports on the systematic testing of treatments and their findings, only to find that there was nothing damning in any of them. Far from it: the care and precision of the reports could not be faulted. The range of natural approaches, used alongside a careful selection of chemical treatments, including low-dosage chemo, had, seemingly, an encouraging success rate. In fact, the survival rate of the clinic’s patients, at three times the national average, was compelling. Luna had thought, once she began digging through the files, that she would discover quite quickly that this extraordinary statistic had ‘bogus’ written all over it, but it didn’t seem to be so at all.
She pulled out report after report, making copious notes on her laptop, before deciding to move to the laboratory to analyze some of the herbal preparations. Herbalism was an area about which she knew little at the moment, and which, to her mind, seemed potentially the most risky and unreliable element in the clinic’s treatment programme.
Now the wall clock silently clicked its way closer to seven o’clock, and Luna was still leaning over her lab bench, doing one last test on an extract of holy thistle. If she were to find that the herb was used inadvisedly in any of the clinic’s cases then it would be wholly right to blow the whistle. Tomorrow she would compare it with the properties of milk thistle, another in the Asteraceae family used in alternative anti-cancer treatments.
She wondered, not for the first time, if Ted really wanted a wholly impartial article from her. As things were going, her piece on the clinic and its work was likely to be pretty favourable – and ‘favourable’ wasn’t particularly attractive in the world of hot news. No, she was quite sure he’d be expecting some newsworthy weaknesses in its approach.
Well, no matter. Ted had said he wanted an impartial, thorough investigation and Luna was determined to give him just that. Today, she had already made some important notes and this week would revise the outline of her article again, once she had more material.
It was funny, she mused, but she had set out on what she had to concede was a vengeful mission to right some of the wrongs to which her cousin Angelina had supposedly been victim. She’d expected a host of malfeasance and ineptitude on the part of the clinic; a discovery that would, in turn, fuel her righteous anger. In fact, she’d found none so far and the strange thing was she felt all the better for it. It was as if a soothing balm was slowly being applied to the painful wound of her grief.
Luna was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t hear Ruy come in.
‘How are you getting on?’
Luna nearly jumped out of her skin and her heart went into freefall. She let go of the glass flask she was holding, which crashed to the ground with a brittle splintering sound, and gave a startled cry. ‘Damn it!’ she hissed under her breath, mortified at his sudden, unexpected presence and her own resulting clumsiness. Keeping her back to him so he couldn’t see her struggling to regain composure, she bent down to pick up the pieces of shattered glass.
‘Hush, niña, leave it. I’ll clear it up. You’ll hurt …’
Too late.
‘Ouch!’ she cried out before he had even finished his phrase, as blood started to ooze from her hand.
Grabbing some surgical gauze pads that were on a trolley close to the door, he was at her side in a flash. ‘You’ve cut yourself … Here, let me take a look.’
‘I’m fine,’ she protested, trying to move away from him.
Nevertheless, he took hold of her hand and, ignoring her objections, applied direct pressure to the wound with his long fingers. He then d
ragged her gently but firmly, as he would a child, to the anglepoise lamp standing next to the sink.
‘I need to have a good look. There may be some tiny pieces of glass still in there. We need to flush them out so this doesn’t get infected.’
He turned on the tap and let the water jet run freely over the gash in her palm before once more applying a gauze pad to stem the bleeding.
Now he was bandaging her hand, seated on a stool as she stood mutely in front of him. The masculine fingers that held the back of her palm felt strong, reassuring and thrillingly intimate. He worked quickly and silently, totally focused.
The quietude that settled around them was filled with a sensual tension. Luna was not thinking about the wound. How could she when his dark head was only inches away from her bosom and she could hear his husky breathing? Heat pooled between her breasts. She found herself wondering if those dextrous, capable hands were as confident when carrying out other functions. Blushing inwardly at those thoughts, she felt the first outline of a vivid fantasy creep treacherously into her mind. A shiver ran through her from head to toe.
Ruy must have felt it because his hands stilled. ‘I’m sorry. Am I hurting you?’ he asked, without looking up.
‘No, no, not at all,’ she murmured lamely, trying to push away the yearning assaulting her senses. His palms were warm, his hair was thick and shiny, his skin flawless and his profile that of a Roman god. Whiffs of delicious musky aftershave and his own male scent teased and tantalized her. She closed her eyes – it was so wonderful to give in to her dream; but then, like a diver suddenly rising from the bottom of the sea, she forced her eyelids open and took a deep breath to escape the images and tidal waves of emotion that were suddenly washing over her.
Luna’s amber irises met Ruy’s darkening gaze, and she almost flinched. He was looking up at her, direct and unguarded; the sight of the naked longing in his eyes caused her to give a tiny gasp. For a moment she was captive in the pools of his cobalt eyes and she leaned weakly against the worktop. He tightened his grip on her hand, moving to hold her wrist, as if he couldn’t bear for her to draw away from him, out of his reach.
Ruy was only inches from her, his warm breath lightly fanning her throat. His gaze shifted to the shapely curve of her breasts. He closed his eyes and Luna could tell he was struggling to restrain himself. Her will to escape, to resist, was fading too. She longed for him to kiss her but didn’t want to consent to it openly, for that would prove him right. Somehow, she preferred to be overpowered so she could then say afterwards: I didn’t want to.
Ruy opened his eyes and looked up searchingly into hers again. Luna’s heart sank shamefully, knowing he had read her all too well. He murmured something under his breath that sounded like an oath, though she didn’t understand the words, before he swayed back. Giving his head a fractional shake and clearing his throat, he straightened up.
‘There,’ he said, trying for a tone of practical briskness. ‘The wound is clean and tidy. You’ll need to change the dressing in a couple of days. I can do it for you.’ As he looked up at her, his blue eyes glinted with complex, animated warmth. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’
Luna, whose knees had almost given way the moment before, managed what she hoped was a detached smile, and took a slow step backwards. She needed to cover her agitation over his close proximity, which was doing chaotic things to her senses.
Ruy’s glance was now roguish. ‘Don’t look so alarmed. I’ll be so gentle, you’ll barely feel me touching you.’
He stood up so that their gaze was now level and she struggled to find words that would discourage him. Before she could do so, he said: ‘I’ll bring my car over from the car park. You can’t drive in this state.’ He rubbed his jaw, regarding her more seriously. ‘Besides, we really need to talk, Luna.’
She finally found her voice. ‘No, thank you,’ she protested, a little too violently.
‘You’ll barely be able to hold the wheel with that thick bandage, and your face is white as a sheet.’
‘Thank you, but I can call a taxi to pick me up. I’m used to doing that,’ she said pointedly, her battered pride suddenly smarting once more. When she saw his surprise, Luna paused before adding: ‘I didn’t bring my car this morning. The air was so fresh, I walked.’
Ruy did not speak immediately. He took a deep breath; his shoulders hunched and then relaxed. ‘Yes, of course. You must be angry with me about running out on you at the ball, and you’ve every right to be. I’m sorry, Luna, I can explain.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you can,’ she shot back. Walking over to the bench top where she had left her notes, she attempted to tidy them together with her good hand. ‘I’m sure you’ve had a lot of experience with explanations.’
Ruy muttered an oath before following her over to the bench. ‘Luna, listen, please let me do that for you,’ he said as she struggled to push the papers into a neat pile.
She looked at him sharply. ‘I can manage.’
Ruy gave up and watched her shove everything determinedly into her bag. He moved over to the door and out of the corner of her eye, Luna noticed him pick up something from the table beside it. She turned to see him lay a glorious bunch of flowers in front of her.
‘These are for you, Luna. A peace offering from a rude Spaniard or just a gift from an adoring admirer, take it as you wish. I hope you’ll forgive my callousness the other night.’
Oh, he was good with words … but it would take more than that to absolve him. She glanced at his gift, then fixed him with a dry look. ‘Bravo, señor. As usual, you say all the right things, but I’m not impressed. You can keep your flowers.’ There was no smile on her lips as she pushed them back at him.
Ruy looked at her sadly. ‘I didn’t think you would accept them, but it was worth a try.’ He studied her closely. ‘I knew it was unlikely you’d answer the phone yesterday so I came by your house twice to drop these off and apologize in person, but you weren’t there.’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ she replied simply. It hadn’t occurred to Luna that he might have come straight over to La Gaviota to try to talk to her. Well, that was worth something, and more than a pretty bunch of flowers. Still, she was glad she’d been out and he’d been put to some inconvenience.
‘Last night I did come looking for you as soon as I could to explain, but I must have just missed you.’ He saw the disbelieving look in her eyes, yet carried on. ‘Look, Luna, I can’t apologize for kissing you because I’m not sorry for that.’
‘As apologies go, that’s an interesting start,’ she remarked dryly, hitting a key on her laptop to save her work.
Ruy lifted an eyebrow, perplexed. ‘You see, even when you’re sniping at me I find it wildly attractive.’ He took a step closer. ‘I’m not sorry because I know you want me as badly as I want you but I am sorry for what I said to you in the summerhouse. I was frustrated, though that’s no excuse. Then leaving you straight afterwards when Sabrina appeared … It was foolish, although at the time I felt I had no choice.’
Despite recognizing the sincerity in his eyes, and wanting his assurances to be enough, Luna couldn’t help but guard herself. Turning back to her laptop, she pressed the key to logout.
‘Who was she?’ she asked without looking at him.
Ruy rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Sabrina is one of the gypsies, but she lives on her own, up in the hills. Because of who her mother was, she has a special status among the gitanos, but she’s not part of the gypsies of Cádiz. It’s a long story but she shouldn’t have been there in the gardens. The gitanos travel up from Cádiz to El Pavón for their own traditional fiesta, and Sabrina must have decided to join them. They all know to keep to the camp, beyond the main grounds. But Sabrina …’ he stared up at the ceiling, searching for the right words, ‘… she’s a little unpredictable. I wanted to make sure she was all right and wasn’t going to disrupt the party. My grandmother would have had a fit if she’d seen her.’
Luna wondered what this girl meant to hi
m, and why her mother was so significant, but she was too proud to probe further. Before that night, she would have batted his apology away and not let him see how much he had hurt her, but everything had changed between them. In his arms at the ball she had allowed him a glimpse of her vulnerability – twice – and afterwards, as she had feared he might, Ruy had disappointed her. Now she wanted some space from him, time to think.
Ruy studied her as if trying to read her thoughts. ‘Luna, let’s have that dinner so we can talk properly. About us.’
She turned to him again. ‘There is no “us”.’ Her tone was neutral; her eyes cool flints of amber.
His jaw clenched. ‘Must you be so hard?’ His gaze bore into her – a fiery, intense blue that burned with such pride and frustration, but also a flicker of barely concealed pain, that it almost made her relent. Almost …
‘Yes, I must – if it means you’ll leave me alone. You need to understand that what happened was a big mistake, a gross lapse in judgement for both of us. On my first day I told you that this wouldn’t work, and I was right. I should have listened to my instincts.’
Ruy made an exasperated gesture. ‘Dios mío, Luna, you’re stubborn! Listen to me. I apologize for running out on you at the ball but let me explain and you’ll understand.’
She shook her head, evading his stare. ‘I’m not interested in your reasons.’
‘Why are you wasting your time in denial when you know you want me?’ His voice was soft and seductive, his lips curling into a provocative smile.
Luna looked up at him. Anger flashed in her eyes. ‘Why are you wasting your time with someone who obviously doesn’t agree with you?’
He leaned an elbow casually on the bench next to her, though the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. ‘Because I don’t believe you. I want to make love to you, and I know that’s what you want too.’
Legacy Page 21