Last night’s receipted hotel bill, she thought, showing the hot chocolate she’d ordered last thing from Room Service and this morning’s breakfast, was in her bag. She only had to show it to him to throw his accusations back in his face.
Except that it wouldn’t stop there, she realised just in time. Because if she hadn’t been with Simon last night, then someone else clearly had. And he would want to know who that was.
She swallowed. ‘Are you going to—tell Carrie?’
It was all she could ask. She’d been drawn into this disaster by the need to shield her friend from the knowledge that Simon had enjoyed a blatant and cynical affair only weeks before their wedding. She still needed to do that. Now she had to discover the terms.
‘No,’ he said. ‘How can I? I hold no brief for Rawlins, but it’s the fact that he cheated on Carrie with you that sticks in my gullet. Although I can’t blame him, or any other man, for being tempted. I haven’t exactly been immune myself,’ he added curtly. ‘I’ve seen the way you move, the shape of your mouth. Those eyes a man could drown in. Who wouldn’t want to get you into bed?’
He shook his head. ‘But you were supposed to love her, Rhianna. You should have said no. I can’t bear her to know how you’ve betrayed her.’
She said quietly, ‘No, I can see that. Thank you.’
She saw him look past her and realised that the wedding invitation was still lying on the table, where she’d tossed it earlier. Diaz picked it up and tore it into small fragments, which he dropped on to a dirty plate.
‘You will not come to the wedding,’ he said, his eyes cold steel. ‘Do you understand me? You’ll make some excuse. I don’t care what it is. But you’ll bloody stay away—from my home and my family. And especially from Carrie, before and after her marriage. That friendship ends now. Because I don’t trust you, Rhianna. This might have been a casual fling for Rawlins, but you’re still sleeping with him, which makes me suspicious that you might have your own agenda where he’s concerned. Not on my watch. You keep your distance, and your mouth shut, Rhianna, or you’ll be sorry. Don’t say you weren’t warned.’
He walked to the door. ‘I’ve decided to return to South America tomorrow,’ he said. ‘So with luck we won’t meet again.’ His smile made her shiver. ‘Just pray that we don’t.’
And he went out, leaving her standing in the ruin of her life, her arms wrapped defensively round her shaking body.
And now they had met again, and it seemed that she was going to have all the opportunities for regret that could possibly be crammed into one lifetime.
Circumstantial evidence had amazing power, she thought bleakly. Seemingly incontrovertible facts, piling up against her like great stones. Crushing her and silencing her.
Her only—her ultimate—defence had turned out to be the physical innocence she’d surrendered to him on that bed. Ironically, when it no longer mattered.
But the fact that she’d been a virgin did not mean there’d suddenly be bluebirds flying over the rainbow.
Because all the old problems between them hadn’t gone away. In fact they’d probably been compounded by her abject failure to keep him at arm’s length.
And they still had no future.
Sighing, she got to her feet. She couldn’t stay down here for ever, as if she was too shy or too scared to face him. Once she’d seen to her delayed packing she would go up on deck and do her best to seem calm and collected, as if the events of the past two hours had never occurred. Or were somehow no big deal.
Smoke and mirrors, she thought. Playing a part she would never have chosen in a million years. So that soon, maybe within a day or two, she could walk away from him for ever, without looking back or letting him see how high a price she was paying for her departure.
Diaz was sitting at the table under the awning, looking out to sea, but at her approach he rose politely. He’d changed too, she saw, into close-fitting chinos and a dark blue shirt, open at the neck, sleeves turned back.
Realised too that just the sight of him was enough to send her spinning into some infinity of pain mingled with a desire that was no longer just a figment of her imagination but a recently experienced reality.
God help her, she could still taste his mouth on hers, feel the warm arousal of his hands on her breasts and thighs. Could recall in every detail the sheer impetus of need that had driven her to surrender such a short time ago.
It took all the courage she possessed to walk forward and join him now, wryly aware as she was that her swollen nipples were chafing against the confines of her bra, and that a soft languorous ache was coming to slow life deep within her all over again.
As she sat, he indicated a jug filled with deep red liquid, clinking with ice cubes and afloat with lemon slices, that stood in front of him.
‘Enrique concocts a lethal sangria,’ he remarked. ‘Are you prepared to risk it?’
She shrugged. ‘Why not?’
It would make as good an anaesthetic as any other, and she needed all the help she could get, not just for the next few hours, but for the remainder of whatever time she had to spend in his company.
I wish I could fall asleep, she thought, and wake up in London with all of this behind me, so that I could begin to put myself together again. Rebuild my life and plan for some kind of future. Find another dream—if that’s possible…
In the meantime…‘Any more dolphin sightings?’ she asked brightly, trying not to gasp as the sangria hit home.
‘Sadly, no, but they may be waiting to catch another glimpse of you.’ He paused. ‘I like your dress.’
‘You’ve seen it before.’
‘Ah,’ he said lightly, ‘but perhaps I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it at the time.’
There seemed no answer to that, so she took another cautious sip of sangria.
‘Be careful,’ he warned lazily. ‘I don’t want you to pass out on me.’
And there was definitely no answer to that, Rhianna decided, staring resolutely down at the table. She needed a neutral topic of conversation, and quickly.
‘What happens in the morning?’ she said. ‘When we get to Puerto Caravejo?’
‘We may have to wait for a flight,’ he said, after a pause. ‘So I thought I’d show you my house.’
‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘You have a castle in Spain as well?’
‘Is that what you’re expecting?’ His tone was dry. ‘Then you’ll be disappointed. It’s little more than a farmhouse which, unlike the rest of our family estate in the Asturias, managed to survive the Civil War. It’s been extended since then, but it’s still more comfortable than luxurious.’
She digested that. ‘Do you spend a lot of time there?’
‘Not as much as I could wish,’ he said. ‘But all that will change when I finish disposing of our assets in South America.’
She put down her glass. ‘But I thought that was where your real home was? Where you spent most of the year?’
‘It has been,’ he said. ‘But I decided some time ago that my life needed to be simplified. Racing from one side of the globe to the other isn’t much fun any more. And nor is being saddled with an armed guard much of the time,’ he added with a touch of grimness. ‘Besides, the mineral workings are coming to the end of their natural span anyway, and the land can be used for other purposes.’
‘But you’ll miss the travelling, surely?’
He shrugged. ‘The consultancy is growing each year, and although I have a great team I’m still actively involved, so that should take care of any lingering wanderlust. For the rest of the time I plan to put something back into my land in Spain. Plant more apple orchards, maybe some vines. A friend of mine made the Rioja we drank the other night, and he offered a while back to teach me the wine business. So in many ways I’m going to be busier than ever.’ He paused. ‘Then there’s the reclamation project at Penvarnon.’
‘You’re going to rebuild it?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘Not with bricks and morta
r,’ he said. ‘I intend to—take it back. Spend much more time there. Make it mine. I’ve only allowed the present situation to drag on like this because it’s suited my convenience. My uncle’s always understood that, and he’ll be relieved to go. He’s never been happy there.’
She said without thinking, ‘It’s never been a happy house.’
‘No,’ Diaz said, after a pause. ‘Which is something else I mean to change.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘And, while we’re enjoying this full and frank exchange of information, my sweet, you can start telling me about your tearful little friend Donna Winston. In particular how long she and Simon Rawlins have been sleeping together and why you kept quiet about it. Because that’s something I really need to know.’
CHAPTER TEN
FOR a long moment Rhianna was silent, then she said quietly, ‘How did you know it was Donna?’
‘I realised a little while ago,’ he said. ‘When I was in the shower. Great places, showers, for clearing your head and getting you to think straight.’ His mouth twisted. ‘So, I used the time-honoured method of adding two and two, and arrived, for once, at the correct answer.’
He shook his head. ‘God in heaven, how could I have been so dumb? “Man trouble”. I said it myself, the night I met her.’ He looked at her unsmilingly. ‘And you said, “It seems so.” Only you knew, Rhianna. You knew exactly what was going on, yet you said nothing. You even condoned the affair by letting them meet at your flat.’
‘Never.’ She looked back at him, her eyes fierce. ‘And I didn’t know—not at first. We bumped into Simon in a pizza place one night, quite by accident, and he deliberately inveigled an invitation back for coffee—the last thing I wanted, as he very well knew. Relations between us had been cool for a long time, and I’d have crossed busy streets to avoid him. I was probably too damned annoyed at being manipulated like that to pick up any other nuances.’
She paused. ‘Then I just happened to walk in on them one night—and caught them in flagrante. After he left there was a confrontation between me and Donna. She claimed they were in love. I advised her to think again, and told her to go. But later I started feeling almost sorry for her—because I’d introduced them, after all, and she probably thought Simon was a friend of mine who could be trusted. Or maybe she’d turned him into some romantic golden-haired hero—the way you do when you’re young and silly.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can hardly blame her for that. There was a time when I thought he was wonderful too.’
‘That,’ he said, ‘had not escaped my attention.’
She said swiftly, ‘If you’re thinking of Carrie’s birthday party, then you’re so wrong. I was over him long, long before that.’
‘Then why go to meet him?’
‘Because he said—he made me think Carrie would be there too. I’d never have gone otherwise.’ She bent her head. ‘I know how it must have looked.’
He said, ‘I didn’t give you much chance to explain. But why didn’t you tell me what was going on that evening when I arrived at the flat and found him with you?’
She sighed. ‘Because I could have been opening Pandora’s box. The consequences might have been awful. Besides, Simon kept insisting it was all over between them, that he’d learned his lesson and it was only Carrie that he wanted. And I—I wanted so badly to believe that. Because I couldn’t convince myself that she’d be happier without him. Better off, maybe—probably—but not happier. So,’ she added unhappily, ‘I took the coward’s way out and hoped it would all simply go away—that no one else need ever know.’
His brows rose. ‘So you were trying to keep the peace? Is that it?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t even claim that.’ She took a breath. ‘The fact is—I was frightened. I can make all the excuses in the world, but that’s what it comes down to in the end. I told myself that if I said nothing I’d be protecting Carrie, saving her from this terrible hurt, when all the time I didn’t want to be the one to tell her.’
She looked down at the table. ‘In the old days they used to kill messengers who brought bad news, and I was scared that I’d lose her too—lose our precious friendship. For so long it was all I had, and I was afraid that she’d never forgive me if I was the one to destroy her illusions about Simon and break her heart.’
He said, ‘That’s not such a bad reason. Except, of course, it didn’t all go away.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Donna had come back that night to tell me she was pregnant, and Simon wanted her to have an abortion. She was going to pieces right there in front of me, so I could hardly throw her out. She had her own place, but she virtually moved back in with me, just weeping hysterically and refusing to eat or get dressed half the time. She kept her key too, and must have had it copied for Simon—though I didn’t realise that until too late.’
She added flatly, ‘I don’t think they ever really stopped seeing each other. Not even when he was accusing her of deliberately getting pregnant because she knew he was going to finish with her, and she was threatening to take an overdose or cut her wrists if anyone mentioned termination. Eventually she calmed down enough to make an appointment at a clinic, but she told Simon she’d only go through with it if I went with her. He’s been hassling me over that ever since. Or until yesterday, anyway.’
She frowned. ‘I haven’t actually seen Donna since the night Simon stayed at the flat, so I don’t know her current stance. And in spite of everything I haven’t been able to lose all sympathy with her.’
He said, ‘Then you must have the patience of a saint.’
‘No.’ She looked out to sea. ‘It—it’s not—it can’t be easy to accept that you’re never going to have the one man who means everything to you. And I think she did fall for him very badly, and believed that he loved her too.’
‘A little naïve,’ he commented.
‘Yes.’ Rhianna was silent for a moment. She added reluctantly, ‘Although Simon did claim originally that she’d targeted him, and made all the running.’
‘Hardly a reliable authority,’ he said unsmilingly.
‘No, but plausible—and it made me wonder. Because Rob, who’s usually kindness itself to newcomers on the cast, avoided her like the plague. And when he heard she was moving into the flat he told me that she was a damned sight older than her age, and infinitely more streetwise, and warned me to be careful.’
‘What I still need to know,’ Diaz said slowly, ‘is why you let me think you were the one involved with that two-timing bastard?’
‘Because it seemed the one way to guarantee you wouldn’t tell Carrie either.’ She met his gaze. ‘I couldn’t believe you’d cause her more suffering by letting her know she’d been betrayed not just by Simon but by her best friend too. I was certain that her peace of mind would be far more important to you than your contempt for me. It was more important to me too.’
‘But you stood there,’ he said, ‘and you let me say those foul, unforgivable things to you.’
‘Because I was involved in it.’ She spread her hands almost helplessly. ‘I couldn’t deny that. And I hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it. I couldn’t even pretend that it was just one of those things that happens when people have had too much to drink.’
He lifted a hand and smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. ‘About which you know so much, of course,’ he said, his voice caught between tenderness and amusement.
‘I don’t think I know very much at all,’ she said, as her pulses leapt in unbidden, dangerous delight. ‘About anyone or anything. I’m better with someone else’s script.’ She paused. ‘Would you have kept quiet—to spare her feelings—if I’d told you the truth? I felt I couldn’t take the risk—especially when you were so angry.’
‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘Probably not.’
‘Well, then,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s all turned out for the best.’
‘I wish I shared your optimism,’ he returned drily. ‘Whatever, it’s too late now. They’ll be off on their honeymoon.’
‘For saying what you did?’ She was embarrassed to hear the sudden quiver in her voice that his touch had engendered. ‘Of course. In some ways I deserved it.’
Diaz shook his head, smiling faintly. ‘Not just that.’
‘Oh,’ she said, trying to ignore the dismaying fact that she was also blushing. ‘You mean that.’
‘Indeed I do,’ he agreed.
Rhianna tried unsuccessfully to free her hand. ‘Couldn’t we simply forget it ever happened?’
‘Not a chance,’ he said. ‘Because I don’t want to forget.’ He added drily, ‘Nor do I wish you to have that as your abiding memory of me as a lover.’
She was trembling inside. ‘Please don’t say things like that.’
‘That sounds ominous.’ He sent her a searching look, then raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips very gently. ‘Has our recent encounter put you off for life? I do hope not.’
‘No. I mean—I don’t know.’ She was stumbling now, and Lady Ariadne’s glamorous self-possession had never seemed further away. ‘But I—I must have been a terrible disappointment.’
‘No, my sweet,’ Diaz said, and smiled at her. ‘Believe me, that couldn’t be further from the truth. My sole regret is that I didn’t know it was your first time, or I would have dealt with the matter rather differently.’
‘Oh,’ she said, wondering how, and knowing she could never ask.
She rallied. ‘Anyway, it’s all over now, and in a few hours we’ll be in Spain and I’ll be leaving. So maybe what happened is all for the best too.’
His smile widened into a reluctant grin. ‘Not from my point of view, darling. Nor, I’d have said, from yours. However,’ he went on, more gently, ‘if you give me the chance, I think I can guarantee you more enjoyment next time.’
Hunger for him—for the intimate riches he was offering—clenched like a fist inside her.
But at the same time she knew it would be infinitely safer to starve. Because all he was proposing was a consummation—the satisfaction of a mutual desire.
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