‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Diego Acosta commented, with a particularly male brand of humour. ‘I live a rough, spare bachelor’s life on the island, with very few home comforts.’
‘I was referring to the view,’ Maxi explained, chalking one up to the wedding planner. ‘It’s absolutely stunning.’ And absolutely perfect for the wedding of a passionate couple like Holly and Ruiz, she thought.
Diego said nothing, but she noticed his fist tightening on the wheel. She guessed he would have preferred her to be a walk-over who would have given up on Isla del Fuego long before now, leaving him to brood alone. Hard luck, mister!
Did he read minds too? Maxie wondered when Diego Acosta shot her a glance. She was out of her depth here and they both knew it. She wasn’t exactly a vestal virgin. She knew enough about sex to hope that one day she’d meet someone who knew what they were doing. Diego Acosta knew. She could feel it. While he, like the hunter he most assuredly was, must have felt her heat as she responded to him.
‘There’s just one thing,’ he said.
Only one? ‘Yes?’ she enquired politely.
‘While you’re here you’d better call me Diego.’
She trialled the unfamiliar syllables beneath her breath. And shot bolt upright when she saw the look on his face. ‘Diego it is,’ she agreed, wondering if this might be just another ploy by Señor Acosta to make her feel uncomfortable.
‘While you stay on the island there are conditions,’ he said, adding to this suspicion.
She listened carefully as he listed the risks she might encounter on a volcanic island. She appreciated the heads-up, but it didn’t change her mind. Diego Acosta was by far the biggest danger she was likely to encounter.
‘Stray into caves and get lost—’ his tone of voice brought her back to full attention ‘—or climb peaks that are unstable and I won’t be able to help you.’
‘Bottom line: it would be unwise for me to go adventuring on my own,’ she said briskly.
‘Correct,’ he said. Relaxing back, he fell silent.
Maybe it was the hypnotic swish of the windscreen wipers, or maybe she had been too long out at sea, but the words just shot out of her mouth without the slightest intervention from her brain. ‘Perhaps it would be safer if you showed me round?’ she suggested.
‘Me?’ The black stare was incredulous.
She back-pedalled furiously, not wanting Diego Acosta to think she couldn’t handle this on her own. ‘Or I’m sure there’s someone else who can show me round—Fernando, for instance?’
‘Shouldn’t we let Fernando enjoy his break?’
She could hardly argue with that.
‘I’ll take you,’ Diego Acosta offered grudgingly.
Touring a mysterious island with Diego Acosta was not something a sensible woman would choose to do, but then he added, ‘Who knows the island better than me?’
Maxie could only respond with, ‘Thank you. I welcome any help you can give me. For Holly and your brother’s sake, I think we should both do our utmost to make this visit a success.’
A cynical smile greeted this, though Diego Acosta’s gaze remained fixed on the road. ‘It appears my brother’s fiancée has the most determined of champions.’
‘She does,’ Maxie confirmed, wondering if it would ever be possible to relax while Diego Acosta was around.
‘Is something troubling you?’ he prompted.
‘No. Nothing.’ She was staring at his thighs, Maxie realised, quickly looking away. They both looked equally impressive to her, but as that clearly wasn’t the case she couldn’t help wondering if he might benefit from the same massage therapy she had used to ease her mother’s pain. ‘I was just starting to plan,’ she said, arranging her face in a thoughtful expression.
‘Plans based on what?’
‘Plans based on what I’ve seen so far.’
‘They must be flimsy plans,’ Diego observed, slowing the vehicle. ‘Fernando,’ he said, glancing in the mirror, ‘this is where you’ll be staying until the weather settles.’
‘Gracias, Señor Acosta,’ the old man enthused.
Maxie stared out of the window at a picturesque dwelling painted blinding white. Lovingly restored, it had a flower-festooned entrance and brilliant green shutters either side of tall, arched windows. A cactus garden framed the villa in vivid spikes of green, while the glittering black lava in which it was planted provided a dramatic contrast. Beyond the unusual garden the ocean was slowly turning from sullen grey to crystalline blue beneath a rapidly brightening sky.
‘Do I get out here too?’ She was keen to investigate further.
‘No, you stay in the vehicle,’ Diego ordered as he opened the door to get out. ‘Unless you want to share the single bedroom with your skipper?’
‘No, thank you.’ Maxie firmed her lips. Each time she thought she was getting the hang of dealing with Diego he had some new taunt up his sleeve. And that slack she had thought she should cut him? She was all out of rope.
Maxie sat in the vehicle, tapping her fingers on her bag as she watched the two men stroll up the path. They appeared perfectly happy to leave her to her own devices…
* * *
He might have known Maxie wouldn’t stay where he’d left her. He had barely walked through the door when her heart-shaped face appeared at the window. Fernando beat a hasty retreat upstairs. He couldn’t blame the old man. It was time someone informed Señorita Parrish that while she was on the island she did as she was told. He gave her a black look when she smiled at him—his body responded also.
‘This is nice,’ she said when she walked through the door, ignoring his hostile manner as she stared around. ‘Do you mind?’ she said, lifting her camera.
‘You’re here. You might as well.’
She was already snapping away, while he was trying not to acknowledge the pleasing scent of rain-washed air she had brought with her into the house.
‘Perhaps some of the wedding guests could be housed here,’ she mused out loud.
‘I’ll have to see if the cottage is available.’
‘I’m sure you can make it so,’ she countered, with a smile he guessed she used on all her clients. ‘This place is beautiful,’ she enthused. ‘Did you design it?’
‘What do you think?’
She cocked her head to look him straight in the eyes. ‘I’m guessing no.’
‘You’d be right.’ He thumbed his stubble as he watched her at work, cursing the ruined leg that forced him to prop himself up against the wall.
‘Everything’s so well put together,’ she observed as she clicked away.
‘Blame my sister Lucia.’
‘Oh, I think she’s a marvellous designer.’
‘I’ll be sure to