His hard body, still wet from the sea, pressed against hers as he tightened his arms about her, and she shivered in ecstasy as his flesh touched hers. They lay there side by side on the sand and Pippa returned Juan's kisses, willing the moment to last for ever.
It was not until much later, in bed, she realised that in all his murmured endearments, on the beach and after dinner when they had strolled in the garden long after Gene had gone to bed, he had not once uttered the word 'love'. He had not said he loved her or called her his love, or made any plans further ahead than the following day.
Vaguely disturbed by this she tried to shrug it aside and enjoy the moment. It must be enough for her, this short idyll. He would never suggest marriage to her. He had reached the age of two and thirty without marrying, and there must have been many other women who had in the past hoped as she did now. It must be enough for her to enjoy his company, his kisses and caresses, for so long as he chose. The heartache would come later but she did not see how she could avoid it. To cling or demand promises would drive him away.
So it was with a determined resolve to live for the moment that she went with him early the next morning to his powerful speedboat.
'We'll soon be in Puerto Soller,' he said as he cast off. 'It's too far to go to Palma today, and back. We need at least a couple of days to see the main sights there. Puerto Soller is a very lovely spot, though, and we will have lunch in an old fortified manor. It was built to defend the inland town against Arab raiders.'
Pippa stood in the bows, her head thrown back as she revelled in the breeze through her hair and the spray on her face. To her right the Minorcan coast slid past rapidly, and they soon passed the Cape d'Artruch.
'We now head straight for Cape Formentor. The drive along that peninsula is spectacular, the land is mountainous along the north coast and then drops for hundreds of feet into the sea.'
Momentarily Pippa thought of Sally-Jayne in her hotel, then thrust the thought away from her.
'So Majorca is mountainous. How else does it differ from Minorca?'
'The produce. Oranges, olives, almonds. None are cultivated on Minorca apart from a very few in gardens. There are vast groves of all of them and in February the whole island seems to be covered in pink blossom. People visit especially to see it. I have a liking for the olive groves though. Some of the trees are ancient and incredibly gnarled, with that misty greeny grey colour of the bark which casts a gloom even on the brightest days. One can understand legends and mysteries and ghost stories being invented by people who live permanently beside such places.'
'It sounds fascinating.'
'You must see more of it before you go home. You should spend at least a week here, there is so much to see.'
Pippa was silent, reflecting that his assumption she would soon return home confirmed her view he meant no more than a holiday flirtation with her. Despite her efforts she could not turn her mind away from thoughts of their eventual parting.
'See the high cliffs?' Juan asked, for they were now running along the northern coast of Majorca, and Pippa gazed in awe at the vast rocky structures.
'It's forbidding,' she said with a shudder.
'Nature is more impressive than even prehistoric man,' Juan said, laughing. 'Taulas and pyramids can be explained, although we marvel at the skills used by our ancestors. It must have been some gigantic upheaval that thrust these cliffs out of the sea.'
Pippa, however, was not listening. She was recalling with horror she had promised to meet David that morning, and in the bliss of her reconciliation with Juan had completely forgotten that he existed.
*
Chapter 8
'Can I make a phone call?' Pippa asked as they stepped ashore. 'I didn't bring my mobile.'
He handed her his. 'It's almost lunchtime, come to the restaurant first.'
They walked up the hill to the hotel, its tower dominating the port area. Climbing up through the gardens, past the swimming pool, Pippa acknowledged what a superb position it was in for defending the whole valley which stretched back towards the high ridge of mountains cutting off this northern section from the main part of the island.
They passed through a wide archway, Juan explaining that a small chapel still existed on one side, into an open patio, the centre of the house. While Juan talked to the owner who was clearly an old friend, Pippa used his mobile.
She telephoned David's hotel but he could not be found. In the end she left a message saying she would contact him the next day to explain her failure to meet him. And that, she thought ruefully, would be a difficult task. No man would appreciate being told that he had been forgotten simply because a more desirable one had distracted her attention. She sighed. At least she would have until tomorrow to devise some tactful way of making her apologies without inventing lies.
Juan had ordered sherry for her and they sat in the old room where the olive press still had pride of place, then ate in the terraced restaurant open to the air and the superb view across the bay and to the hills around. Afterwards they walked for a while along the beach and quays and Juan insisted on buying her an embroidered, lace-edged blouse and a string of beads made from the lovely grained wood of the olive trees.
'It is a flourishing industry here, carving bowls and salad servers and other small wooden items from olive wood,' he said when she admired the vast displays in the souvenir shops.
'I like the leather goods, too. I have a fancy to buy a leather pants suit like one I saw in Mahon. It was a gorgeous red and beautifully soft.'
'Go to one of the fashion shows. They hold them regularly in the tourist season. When we get home I'll give you a card to take to a firm I know.'
Soon he said they ought to be setting off again if they were not to be late for dinner and regretfully Pippa agreed, wondering whether she would ever again see this enchanting island, so different from its neighbour.
David accepted Pippa's stumbling apologies and when he asked her to dine with him the following night she felt obliged to accept. The days flew past, working hard on the tapes each morning, swimming or boating with Juan in the afternoon, and dining out with him a couple of evenings as well as once with David.
*
Gene's tapes had reached the account of the death of his daughter and it was much as Juan had said, although Gene blamed himself unreservedly for having trusted the nurse who had, whether by mistake or carelessness, permitted the venturesome child to attempt to ride the half-broken horse.
She felt she was breaking no confidences when she tried to explain this to Juan when they were dining in a small intimate restaurant in Cuidadela.
'He could not blame himself more than anyone else.'
'I know, although I was too young at the time to know much about it. It is an old, painful wound, and I don't wish him to reopen it. Do you think he is still determined to publish?'
'Yes, but there is so much material he will have to cut out a great deal. He might be persuaded to leave out most of this personal history.'
'Let us hope so. Pippa, if Gene can spare you on Friday shall we go to Palma for the weekend? We could leave on Thursday afternoon, tomorrow, and have two and a half days there, and get back in time for you to work again on Monday morning. What about it?'
Pippa glanced at him warily and he laughed suddenly.
'Separate rooms, in different hotels, if you wish,' he said with a light mocking note in his voice. 'It isn't that I don't want to take you to bed, child,' he added, and she blushed furiously, 'but you must not feel any obligation to me! That would ruin any pleasure we might have in each other.'
When she did not reply he swiftly changed the subject, but as she lay in bed that night she had to admit to herself she would offer very little resistance if Juan did suggest their sharing a bed. He had enthralled her so much she no longer cared for anything apart from the touch of his lips, feather light or hard and demanding, according to his mood, and the feel of his arms about her and his hard chest crushing hers.
She was alone t
he next morning, for Gene had gone to Cuidadela and Juan was out in his boat, when there was a gap on the tape she was working on. Gene must have left it on again, she thought, and began to flip through it to see whether he had recorded anything else. Then Gene's voice came again and she prepared to type once more. But the words held her still, her hands poised above the keyboard.
'Come in, Juan. It's almost time for dinner, I've booked a table at the Savoy.'
The Savoy, Pippa thought. In London? Could this have been recorded during that visit when she had first encountered Juan?
'Did you engage her?' Juan's voice came, curt and sounding angry.
'I did, my boy. A pleasant, nice little thing. She'll be a joy to have around the house.'
'That is obviously what she hopes.'
'What do you mean?' Gene asked, puzzled.
'When I left here earlier I had the doubtful pleasure of overhearing part of her conversation with some rejected suitor. She was being perfectly blunt with him, telling him of her plans to marry a senile old man for his money. Since the only elderly man in view must be yourself, you clearly figure in her mercenary plans!'
Pippa gaped in astonishment. She recalled her angry words to Frank outside Gene's London hotel suite and also the fact that almost immediately afterwards she had found Juan in the doorway behind her. He could have overheard those words but how dare he interpret them as he had done.
'Nonsense,' Gene was saying on the tape. 'You are imagining things. Just because Sally-Jayne was a gold-digging little slut doesn't mean every girl is. I'm going. Coming?'
There was no more. The rest of the tape was blank but Pippa sat staring at it for a long time, clenching her hands together as she strove to control her furious anger.
*
Suddenly she sprang to her feet and disregarding the papers that fluttered to the floor she ran out of the room and through the house. From the terrace she could see Juan in his boat moored to the jetty, and she ran as fast as she could across the beach towards him.
Seeing her in such haste he sprang down and ran to meet her.
'What is it? Is someone hurt?' he demanded.
She stopped a few yards away from him, her breasts heaving.
'No. You are despicable!' she declared. 'How dare you say such things of me? Why, you didn't even know me then, you'd only seen me for a moment. How could you accuse me of such - such underhand, such p-perfectly horrid designs on Gene?'
'Pippa, sweet, what is all this?' Juan asked, half laughing and stepping towards her, his hands outstretched.
She leapt away from him.
'Don't you dare ever lay hands on me again! Oh, you must have thought it a great joke to make love to me, thinking you could distract me from my plans! I suppose you hoped I would think you a better catch, like Liz says Sally-Jayne does! No, keep away from me! I hate you and your nasty suspicious mind, and I never want to see you again!'
Juan came purposefully towards her and although, seeing the implacable determination in his face, she turned to flee, suddenly afraid, he caught her by the shoulders.
'Calm down,' he said softly, but with a certain menace in his tone, and shook her slightly. 'What crazy notion have you got into your head now?'
Pippa gulped and wriggled but he held her firmly, his fingers biting into her shoulders.
'I - I heard the tape,' she whispered. 'One of those Gene uses. He left it on - he often does - and it was in London.'
'Well?' he persisted.
'You accused me of trying to - to marry him! You said you had heard me saying I wished to marry a senile old man, you said I wanted his money! You said I was mercenary!'
'I seem to have said a great deal,' Juan commented. He spoke lightly but Pippa sensed the anger behind the casually uttered words and began to wish she had never come out here to him. The water was frighteningly near and he was strong. She thought his grip on her could never be loosened, so rigidly was he holding her, and now his eyes blazed down into hers and she could not read their expression. She shivered and tried to look back at the house to see if anyone else was watching, but it was deserted. Only Maria was there in any case. Anger came to her rescue.
'You did indeed!' she flung at him. 'It must have amused you seeing how easy it was to entice me away from Gene. If you think I am devious what about yourself? Gene is worth two of you! He says what he means and I'd rather - rather - oh, I hate you!'
His hands had suddenly relaxed their grip and she wrenched herself away from him. Afraid her tears of anger and frustration and disappointment would overflow at any moment, she seized the opportunity to run and to her relief he did not attempt to follow her. She locked herself in her room, pleaded a headache when Maria came to tell her that lunch was ready, and gratefully accepted a tray in her room that evening.
*
When she emerged the following morning, pale and with dark rings round her eyes, it was to find Juan had gone.
'He's always unpredictable like this,' Gene commented. 'He didn't say where he was going or when he'd be back, but I know he has to go to America in a couple of weeks so I hope he will be back soon.'
Pippa did not. She could not bear to see him again for he had not denied his suspicions of her, or his efforts to distract her from her supposed plans regarding his uncle. While her body craved his touch, her mind insisted it would be better for everyone if they never again met.
'Does he plan to stay in the States for long?' she managed to ask in as near normal a voice as possible.
'I believe so, several weeks, then he will probably go to London.'
Angry, confused, and missing him bitterly, Pippa somehow lived through the next few days. When David telephoned to suggest she spent Saturday with him she listlessly agreed, and together they explored more of Mahon and the Villa Carlos. When he kissed her that night she did not repulse him, although she found no comfort in his tender embraces.
'Tomorrow?' he asked, releasing her. 'I have to see someone in the morning but I could call for you after lunch.'
'Yes, do that, David.'
'I ought to be thinking of moving on in a couple of weeks,' he said. 'How long is this job of yours likely to last?'
'I have no idea, there is still a great deal to do.'
'I shall be on Majorca for a while. Perhaps you could come across for a few days before I go back to England?'
She nodded. It really did not matter. Although David was pleasant undemanding company she took little pleasure in sightseeing with him. With Juan it had been so different.
She spent Sunday morning finishing some typing and then she and Gene sat on the terrace together having a pre-lunch drink. As Gene was telling her his plans for the following week, when he hoped to have the bulk of the typing finished and could start editing the material, they heard a car approaching.
Pippa looked up eagerly, forgetting for a moment their quarrel as she looked for the familiar Mercedes, but it was a hired car.
*
'Some friends who've put into one of the harbours, I expect,' Gene said, but he started up from his chair in surprise as the visitor walked out onto the terrace.
It was Sally-Jayne. Dressed in white, as she had been on her last visit to the Casa Blanca, her deep tan and voluptuous figure, together with her lovely face, ensured that in any company she would be noticed.
'What a surprise,' Gene said coldly. 'I thought you did not wish to see me again?'
'What a delightfully polite welcome!' Sally-Jayne flung back at him. 'I came to see whether you had come to your senses at last.'
'I am not giving way to your demands,' Gene said curtly.
Sally-Jayne sat down, crossing one long leg gracefully over the other. She completely ignored Pippa.
'You still intend to publish those lies about me?' she asked in a silky voice that held more menace than her previous angry tone.
'I shall publish the truth,' Gene replied. 'Now, since there is nothing for us to say to one another, I suggest you leave.'
'Not
until I have tried to change your mind.'
Gene sat down again in his chair. 'You cannot,' he said wearily.
'I want a drink. Luis, get me a Martini.'
Pippa looked round, surprised. Luis, who must have answered the door to Sally-Jayne, still hovered nervously in the drawing room window. He looked dubiously at Gene.
'Get her something, Luis,' Gene ordered, and Luis disappeared.
'Good. I suppose it is too much to expect you to ask me to lunch,' Sally-Jayne said sarcastically. 'Never mind, what I have to say will only take a few minutes.'
She took the drink Luis brought to her with a nod of thanks, drank half of it in one swallow and turned back to Gene.
'You said when I came here before that it didn't matter to you what I said about us. Very well, there is an alternative. But in case you believe I do not intend to tell my version of the story, I'll tell you I've spent the last few weeks writing it down. I've brought a few pages with me, just to give you the flavour!'
She dragged a foolscap envelope out of her large handbag and flung it towards Gene. He made no attempt to catch it and it balanced for a moment on the edge of the table, then dropped to the ground.
'There are other copies of all of it with my London and my Los Angeles solicitors, and they have instructions to release them to the press as soon as your book's publication date is announced. It is not just about us although there's plenty I can say about that! I've been talking to Louise's elder son.'
Gene's eyes narrowed but, he did not speak. Sally-Jayne drank the rest of her Martini and put the glass down on the table.
'At the time it was only her brother who was suspicious, and he had no proof,' she went on slowly, enunciating each word clearly. 'It was bad enough when Louise revealed that instead of looking after Lulu you'd been frolicking with a teenager in a garden chalet so Lulu got on that wild horse and was killed, trampled to death after she'd been thrown. If you'd been there Gene, either it would not have happened or you might have had a chance of saving her. Has that thought kept you awake at nights? Was it that which gave you nightmares during our marriage? Was that why you shouted out Lulu's name in your sleep?'
Question of Love Page 10