‘It’s a man asking a beautiful woman to spend a couple of hours in his company,’ Diaz returned. ‘Do we really need to analyse it so closely or so soon? Why not simply see where it takes us.’
To disaster, she thought. There can be nothing else. So just utter a few polite words of regret and keep going. That’s the wise—the sensible course. The only one possible.
She said, ‘But you’re clearly the guest of honour for Sir John. Won’t he be upset if you disappear?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Nor surprised either. So will you be my guest of honour instead?’
And she heard herself say, unbelievably, ‘Yes—I—I’d like that.’
Knowing, with mingled dread and anticipation, that she was speaking no more than the truth. That wisdom and common sense had counted for nothing the moment she’d seen him again. And that she was lost.
‘I saw you as soon as I walked in tonight,’ he said, as they faced each other across the candlelit table of the small Italian trattoria. ‘There’s only one head of hair like that in the entire universe. As soon as I’d finished being polite to my host I was going to come over to you.’
Rhianna put up a self-conscious hand. ‘It’s become almost a trademark,’ she said, grimacing. ‘I’m expected to wear it loose when I’m on show, like tonight. And my contract forbids me to cut it.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘It would be a crime against humanity.’ And his smile touched her like a caress.
She couldn’t remember to this day what they’d eaten, although she was sure it had been delicious. She’d simply yielded herself completely to the luxury of being with him, just for that brief time.
Much later, outside, as he’d signalled to a cab, she’d said huskily, knowing she was a fool and worse than a fool, yet unwilling, in spite of herself, to let him go, ‘Would you like some more coffee—a nightcap?’
And he said very quietly, ‘Thank you. That would be—good.’
People were just coming out of the theatres, so the streets and pavements were crowded. As the taxi nosed its way along, Rhianna sat beside him in silence, hands clenched in her lap. Waiting and wondering.
She did not have to wait for long. And when Diaz took her in his arms she yielded instantly, her lips parting under the urgency of his kiss, her body pressed against his.
As she clung to him, she rejoiced secretly that her erstwhile lodger was no longer with her, and her flat was her own again. That she would be alone with him there. Then remembered that her precious privacy had come at a price.
She thought, If Diaz ever finds out about Simon…
Then, as his kiss deepened, she stopped thinking altogether, her whole being possessed by the shock of desire. Because nothing mattered but the fact that she was with him—and the prospect, at last, of long-delayed surrender.
And she ignored the small warning voice in her mind that said, This is so dangerous, and allowed herself to be completely and passionately happy.
‘Señorita—señorita—you come here quickly, please.’ It was Juan, grinning with delight. ‘Now, señorita.’
Startled back into the present, Rhianna got up from the lounger and followed him to the side of the boat, where Diaz was waiting.
‘What’s wrong?’ She spoke curtly, her memories having left her unnerved and uncomfortable. But at least he was wearing his shirt again.
‘Nothing at all.’ He glanced at her with faint surprise. ‘Look over there.’
Rhianna looked and gasped as a long silver body rose from the waves with a joyous twist, then disappeared again with a smack of its tail fin, to be followed by several more, their faces all set in that unmistakable half-moon smile as they jumped and soared.
‘Oh, how wonderful.’ She could not pretend sophisticated boredom when this amazing show was being performed as if for her exclusive benefit. She leaned on the rail, her face alight with pleasure, watching the dolphins cavort. ‘Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?’
‘Not often,’ Diaz said quietly. ‘Except in my dreams.’ And she realised with shock that he was looking at her.
Her throat closed. Oh, God, how can you say such things after everything that’s happened? What do you want from me? Haven’t I suffered enough?
She stared at the gleaming, leaping bodies until they blurred, then with one last triumphant ‘thwack’ they were gone, and there was only the faint glimmer of them through the water as they sped away.
‘The cabaret seems to be over,’ Diaz commented. ‘Conveniently, just in time for lunch.’
‘More food?’ Back in command of herself, she sent him a challenging look. ‘I shall need a week at a health farm after this.’
‘After this,’ he said, ‘the choice will be all yours.’
‘Tell me something,’ she said as they sat down. ‘How much longer will it take to get where we’re going?’
His brows rose. ‘Is it so important to get somewhere?’
‘Of course,’ she said coldly. ‘Because the faster we arrive, the sooner I can put this nonsense behind me and go home. Only we don’t seem to be travelling very fast at all.’
She pointed to a large vessel in the distance that was steadily overhauling them. ‘What’s that, for instance?’
‘The Queen of Castile,’ Diaz said. ‘Sailing between Plymouth and Santander.’
‘Don’t you find it faintly humiliating when you have all this power, purchased no doubt at vast expense, to be beaten for speed by a car ferry?’
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘This is a pleasure cruise, not a race. Anyway, I prefer to conserve fuel and have a comfortable passage.’ He paused. ‘But we should arrive at Puerto Caravejo in the early hours of tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ve never heard of it,’ she said shortly. ‘Does it have an airport?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Just a pleasant marina, with some good restaurants. But you can fly to Gatwick from Oviedo. So, now that I’ve set your mind at rest, shall we eat?’
She wanted to say she wasn’t hungry, because under the circumstances it should have been true, but once more Enrique’s offerings proved irresistible.
The first course was a creamy vegetable risotto, studded with asparagus tips, tiny peas and young broad beans, and that was followed by grilled fish, served with crisp sauté potatoes, with fresh fruit for dessert.
Diaz consulted his watch. ‘By my reckoning they’ll be back from the church now,’ he remarked. ‘And just settling down to lunch in the marquee, with all its attendant rituals. So shall we drink a toast of our own?’
‘To the happy couple?’ Rhianna asked with irony. She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
He was silent for a moment, and she saw his mouth harden. ‘Naturally I can see that might not appeal,’ he said, and picked up his glass of white wine. ‘So let’s just say—to matrimony.’ And he drank.
‘Forgive me,’ she said, ‘if I don’t join in that either.’
He said with sudden harshness, ‘He’s gone, Rhianna. You’ve lost him. Accept it.’
Diaz paused. ‘Coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’ Rhianna rose to her feet. ‘I think I’ll go below where it’s cooler for a while.’
And where I don’t have the nerve-racking disturbance of being in your company with all the attendant memories I