Chapter 4
THE Count was obviously well known at the restaurant, and Pippa was conscious of many curious eyes following their progress to a discreetly positioned table which had an excellent view of the small stage. A woman dining in another part of the room waved and tried to catch his attention, but apart from a courteous bow Juan did not linger.
With the head waiter hovering, Juan ordered, choosing some Spanish specialities.
'You must taste some of the delicious cuisine of my country,' he said softly to Pippa, leaning across towards her in a manner which suggested, she thought a trifle crossly, that he was paying her some extravagant compliment.
She happened to glance across at the woman who had waved to Juan earlier and surprised a look of intense hatred in her eyes. Then her companion spoke to her sharply and she hunched a shoulder and ostentatiously turned her chair so that her back was towards them.
'Who is that?' Pippa asked impulsively, then blushed as Juan smiled slightly, casting her a look of amusement.
'You mean the lady who is behaving somewhat petulantly?' he queried. 'She is married to - and bored by - a Majorcan hotelier, and tries to console herself for his lack of appreciation of her opulent charms with demanding the praises of every other man she knows.'
'Is that her husband?'
'Of course not. She is not the type who would be seen out with her own husband when someone else's is available.'
His tone was contemptuous but Pippa thought she detected a note of anger too. Had he previously been one of the lady's escorts? Had they quarrelled? Was he annoyed with her or jealous? And was the woman angry merely on seeing him or resentful at the notice he was paying to herself?
She had to turn her attention to the fresh lobster placed before her, and was savouring the first forkful when a husky voice spoke nearby in a drawling American accent.
'Darling! How long have you been in Minorca? Why didn't you tell me? Are you staying with Gene?'
A tall, slender redhead, wearing a daringly low cut gown, was standing beside Juan, her hand stretched out towards him. He touched it briefly and stood up politely, forced to stand close to her as she did not move away to give him more room. The redhead, ignoring Pippa, began to issue a stream of invitations to luncheon parties, swimming and boating expeditions.
'And you must come to our barbecue on Saturday. Usual time darling, and dancing all night if you've the stamina,' she added, and chuckled, casting Juan a mischievous glance from under mock demure eyelids.
'Thank you, Liz, but I am not certain yet how long I can stay. Allow me to present Miss Pippa Dawson, from California, who is a friend of mine. Pippa, Liz von Hauptmann.'
The redhead inclined her head briefly towards Pippa.
'Do persuade him to come, Miss Dawson, if you are still here. There are heaps of old acquaintances longing to see him again.'
*
She smiled up into Juan's eyes for a long moment and then moved away. Looking amused Juan resumed his seat.
'Liz is a glutton for parties,' he commented. 'If she does not either give or attend five or six a week she feels starved. She has outdistanced three husbands already, who have not had equal stamina.'
Pippa smiled briefly. She was oddly grateful to him for introducing her as a friend, not merely an employee of his uncle's, and then it occurred to her he might not wish it to be known he had escorted his uncle's secretary on a social occasion. He certainly would not wish to introduce her to his wealthy friends. It must have been awkward for him to find two such dining in the same restaurant.
She had little time for brooding on this, however, as the dancers then came onto the stage. The girls, in red and white dresses, performed the stately traditional dances of flirtation and rejection while the haunting music filled the room, and their suitors enacted pleas and threats and despair.
The climax of the dancing came with Carmen, the leading dancer, dressed in a close fitting black gown which flared out below her knees to reveal a scarlet petticoat, matching the scarlet lipstick and the rose pinned into her hair, the only splashes of colour about her, performing a dance of such power and controlled passion that half of the diners were on their feet demanding more when it came to an end.
Carmen, unsmiling, acknowledged their applause gravely but refused every appeal for an encore. She and her partner left the stage and the excited diners returned to their forgotten food, while a sole guitarist played gentle, soothing music and the restaurant returned to normal.
'That was marvellous!' Pippa breathed. 'I had not realised it could be so expressive, so dramatic.'
'The Spanish are passionate people,' he remarked. 'As I am not wholly Spanish I can share their characteristics and also, I believe, view them objectively. We love and hate with great intensity, which is not always wise.'
He was staring down into his wine and Pippa wondered what he was thinking. What lay behind those words? Was he himself aware of loving unwisely? Before she could reply he looked up at her and her heart gave a sudden leap, whether of fear or some other emotion she could not decide.
'My uncle's memoirs, for instance. He has so little Spanish blood but the revelations he proposes to make of unbridled passions, of lust and fury and the intrigues they cause, will revive memories better left to slumber.'
Pippa murmured something unintelligible. She could not defend Gene for as yet she knew very little of what he proposed to include in his memoirs, neither could she agree with Juan even if she had wished to. Fortunately he changed the subject and asked her about her visit to Europe.
'Is London the only city you have seen?'
'I was staying with a friend, but if I hadn't taken this job I would have visited Paris and Rome before going back to the States.'
'Not Madrid?' he asked teasingly.
'I had not thought of it,' she confessed. 'I wished to see Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur, and the Roman churches, naturally. I did a course, for interest, on Church architecture, and I have seen so many photographs and paintings of them I wanted to see them for myself.'
'You would like the cathedral in Palma then. When Gene can spare you for a whole day I will take you across in my boat. The best view of it is from the sea, it dominates the harbour and is surrounded by palms.'
*
He appeared to take her acceptance for granted and Pippa wondered why he was willing to spend so much time on his uncle's secretary when there were other far more glamorous women clearly anxious for his company. The red haired Liz, who had joined a group of people at the far side of the restaurant, was constantly looking across at them and the bored one had, while the dancing was taking place, again changed the position of her chair and was now facing them, glancing frequently towards Juan.
He ignored both of them and paid Pippa undivided attention, the perfect host. The guitar player had finished and been replaced by a trio, the small space in front of the stage was occupied by a few couples dancing to their rhythmic music, and soon Juan stood up and held out his hand to Pippa.
'Let us dance,' he said, giving her no opportunity to refuse even if she had wanted to.
At first he held her impersonally, although she was stiff and nervous at the close contact. Then the sensuous music infected her and she began to relax, laughing at the low commentary he maintained on the foibles of their fellow dancers. He was a superb dancer, she found, unlike the more strenuous but less skilful partners she had had at college balls, who had little idea of how to guide their companions in synchronised movement.
'That's better,' Juan murmured, his mouth close to her ear, and pulled her into a firmer hold. Pippa felt intoxicated with the music and the movement, the almost dreamlike quality of a perfectly managed occasion. When the music stopped and Juan's arm remained about her waist as they returned to their table she thought little of it, only faintly realising it seemed entirely natural they should be so linked.
They drank coffee and Juan laughingly persuaded Pippa to sample some of the liqueurs made on the island.
<
br /> 'A legacy of the British, who left a secret recipe for gin in the eighteenth century,' he told her. 'I will take you to the distillery in Mahon, where you can sample as many varieties as you wish and come out reeling drunk!'
'I shall not be sober after any more of these,' she protested, and then agreed to try just one more.
*
It was long after midnight before they left and Pippa gladly agreed with Juan's suggestion they walked beside the harbour for a while.
'Minorcan roads are far from crowded but there are many sharp bends down to the bay. I have no desire to drive into the sea,' he joked, and Pippa looked at him curiously. She was feeling a little light headed as a result of the wine and music but he did not seem affected.
They walked along the edge of the long narrow bay which was the port of Cuidadela, where lights still showed on several boats and in some of the small cafés set in the cliffside, from where laughter and music could still be heard.
Pippa suddenly shivered and Juan drew her closer, his arm about her shoulders.
'Let's go back to the car. I should have suggested you brought a shawl,' he said solicitously, and they turned back to where he had left the car a short distance away. Once inside Pippa was soon warm again and she sat relaxed, dreamy and half asleep as he drove back to the Casa Blanca.
She came to with a gasp of delight as the car rounded one of the last bends leading towards the bay.
'The moon! How beautiful the water looks with it shining down,' she exclaimed, and Juan stopped the car while they sat looking at the silvery brightness, framed by dark shadows of the encircling headlands.
'It is so quiet and peaceful,' Pippa almost whispered, as if afraid to disturb the night.
'On the surface,' Juan replied. 'Beneath there are all sorts of movement, night creatures prowling, and hidden passions ready to unleash untold joy or misery. But it is late and you have to work tomorrow.'
Lightly he drew his finger across the curve of her cheek before turning to restart the car, and Pippa felt a wave of hot response to the affectionate gesture sweep through her. The intensity of it shook and frightened her, she had never before experienced such a turmoil of confusion. Her head bowed to conceal her burning face from him she thankfully escaped when he stopped the car briefly beside the door, saying he would drive it round to the garages before coming in himself.
She fled up the stairs in the dark, silent house, and stood inside her bedroom door breathing heavily as she tried to regain her composure. What had happened to her? Was she intoxicated? Had the wines and the Minorcan liqueurs been stronger than she had thought at the time? Her fingers trembled as she tried to unfasten the hooks and eyes of her gown, and she had to sit down on the bed for a few minutes to calm her tense nerves. In the silence, broken only by her loudly beating heart, she heard a door close in the distance and footsteps on the stairs. They passed her room without a pause and another door closed, and then she was able to unfasten her dress and crawl exhausted into bed.
*
She slept fitfully and rose at the normal time heavy eyed and with a dull throbbing headache. Hastily swallowing some aspirin she pulled on a white sleeveless top and a flowered wraparound skirt, then went hesitantly downstairs, unsure of her reactions when she met Juan again.
Gene was alone in the breakfast room and he smiled towards her.
'You're up early,' he greeted her. 'I didn't expect you to be up at the usual time.'
'It was not terribly late when we got home,' she said easily, pouring herself some black coffee. 'And there is work to be done.'
'Juan has gone swimming,' he remarked, eyeing her keenly, and Pippa kept her glance lowered as she strove to reply as casually as possible.
'Has he? He has more energy than I have.'
'Will you not have anything to eat, my dear? Are you feeling tired, or out of sorts?'
'I'm not hungry, thank you. We ate so well last night I don't think I'll want food again for the whole of today!'
'I'll take the pages you've already typed and glance over them. I've put out a couple of notebooks that deal with the same period, so far as I can recall. Could you concentrate on them this morning, my dear?'
'Of course.'
'There are some sets of figures, salaries and profits from various films. I pasted the official releases into the books and made some comments with figures I had from elsewhere. If you can match them up as far as possible in two columns it would help me. The instructions are in the manual.'
Pippa was struggling to follow these instructions for creating columns some time later, unable to align them, when the door of the study opened.
'Hard at work again?' Juan asked and Pippa started, then looked round. He was leaning against the door post grinning at her in a manner that made her catch her breath. Wearing pale fawn jeans, superbly cut, and a matching silk sweater, his dark lithe good looks hit her with the force of a gale, and she felt as breathless as though she had been struggling against one.
'I can't sort these instructions out,' she said jerkily, and her heart began to beat faster as he straightened up from his negligent pose and crossed the room towards her.
'Let me see. What is it you want to do?'
'To display these two columns side by side. I thought I pressed this command key, but whenever I do they all arrange themselves in one long column, not two.'
He bent over her, studying the screen, and she smelled the faint fragrance of his aftershave while an errant strand of his hair fell against her ear.
'Show me what you have done,' he commanded, and she repeated the instructions she had given the machine while he leant over her, one hand to either side of her as he rested them on the table, his face almost touching hers.
'I cannot think what else to do,' she murmured in a constrained voice.
'Look, instead of doing all this we should use the other way.'
Rapidly he pressed some of the keys and magically the figures on the screen regrouped themselves as she had wanted them. Impulsively she turned towards him.
'How on earth did you manage it? I've been trying for hours!'
Instead of replying he bent his head slowly forwards across the few inches that separated them and gently kissed her on the tip of her nose.
*
'I've been wanting to do that ever since I first saw you,' he breathed, and Pippa suddenly found that his arms, which were still either side of her as she sat on the typing chair, had folded about her and she was being pulled inexorably to her feet.
She closed her eyes momentarily, and then they fluttered open as he clasped her to his hard body, his hands on her waist and shoulders, and his lips met hers in a brief but shattering kiss.
He released her quickly and caught both her hands in his. His eyes were triumphant, laughing, as he looked down at her.
'Come sailing with me and we'll take a picnic lunch,' he said quietly and Pippa, trembling and speechless, stared back at him.
He apparently took her silence as acceptance for he squeezed her hands before releasing her.
'I'll go and get the boat ready. See you later.'
He was gone as suddenly as he had come and Pippa walked unsteadily across to an easy chair, sinking into it with a deep sigh. What had happened? In just a few seconds she felt that her whole world had turned upside down and inside out.
She was as drained as though she had walked for a whole day through muddy fields, and yet she tingled all over with a new sensation. How could any man have this effect on her?
She tried to recapture the fleeting experience of that devastating kiss but found it impossible. How could such a slight embrace have such a deep effect? None of Frank's kisses, however long or ardent, had ever affected her in this way, and yet the merest touch of Juan's lips against hers had set her on fire.
She remained lost in contemplation until Maria brought in her coffee, and then found it impossible to concentrate on her work. Gene, if he noticed her abstracted air when he came in to go over some alrea
dy printed pages, said nothing except to tell her to stop now.
Juan seemed cool and a little aloof, more concerned over some problem to do with one of his business interests than talking to her. He talked with Gene about the probable necessity of flying to Washington and Pippa's heart did odd things, leaping about and then plunging down into some gloomy depths.
She was being ridiculous, she told herself, to allow one brief kiss to affect her in this way. It clearly had meant no more to Juan than shaking hands. He had most likely forgotten all about it by now. The thought was desolation.
'I will be with you in five minutes, Pippa, but I must phone someone first.'
Pippa smiled wanly and went to change into jeans and a tee-shirt. Remembering it could be cold on the water she found a bright scarlet sweater, telling herself defiantly that the vivid colour would lift her spirits.
Twenty minutes later she was sitting on the patio, her shoulders drooping, wondering if Juan had forgotten her or whether his business problem was going to mean the cancellation of their sail.
It was only by an intense effort of will she forced herself to remain seated when she would have liked to pace up and down the patio to calm her tumultuous thoughts. She was sitting with closed eyes, furiously concentrating on repeating to herself all the lines she could recall of Hiawatha, when she started to her feet as an arm was placed lightly across her shoulder.
'I cannot apologise enough, Pippa,' Juan said. 'I could have wished my wretched manager at the bottom of the sea while he rambled on about stupid little problems he could have been solving himself. Do you forgive me for keeping you waiting?'
'Of course,' Pippa replied, and the effort of trying to speak normally made her sound curt instead.
'Come, let us waste no more time.'
*
He took her hand and started to run through the gardens down to the beach. Suddenly light hearted, Pippa kept pace with him, arriving laughing and breathless at the small jetty where his boat, a sleek, white and green painted catamaran, rested.
Swiftly Juan helped Pippa into the boat, set the sails and cast off. There was only a slight breeze but enough to fill the sails and take them out of the bay, where Pippa found that a whole series of grey rocky headlands stretched on either hand.
Question of Love Page 5