‘You really do come from a completely different world,’ Aggie said. ‘I think it’s very sad that you can’t trust anyone.’
‘There’s a little more to it than that,’ Luiz told her, irritated. ‘Maria’s mother fell in love with an American twenty years ago. That American was Maria’s father. There was a shotgun wedding. My sister went straight from her marriage vows to the hospital to deliver her baby. Of course, my parents were concerned, but they knew better than to say anything.’
‘Why were they concerned? Because he was an American?’
‘Because he was a drifter. Luisa met him when she was on holiday in Mexico. He was a lifeguard at one of the beaches. She was young and he swept her off her feet, or so the story goes. The minute they were married, the demands began. It turned out that Brad James had very expensive tastes. The rolling estate and the cars weren’t enough; he wanted a private jet, and then he needed to be bankrolled for ventures that were destined for disaster. Maria knows nothing of this. She only knows that her father was killed in a light-aeroplane crash during one of his flying lessons. Luisa never forgot the mistakes she made.’
‘Well, I’m sorry about that. It must have been hard growing up without a father.’ She bit into a slice of toast that tasted like cardboard. ‘But I don’t want anything from you and neither does my brother.’
‘You don’t want anything from anyone. Am I right?’
Aggie flushed and looked away from those dark, piercing eyes. ‘That’s right.’
‘But I’m afraid I insist on buying you some replacement clothes. Accept the offer in the spirit in which it was intended. If you dislike accepting them to such an extent, you can chuck them in a black bin-bag when you return to London and donate them all to charity.’
‘Fine.’ Her proud refusal now seemed hollow and churlish. He was being practical. She needed more clothes through no fault of her own. He could afford to buy them for her, so why shouldn’t she accept the offer? It made sense. He wasn’t to know that she wasn’t given to accepting anything from anyone and certainly not charitable donations. Or maybe he had an idea.
At any rate, if he wanted to buy her stuff, then not only would she accept but she would accept with alacrity. It was better, wasn’t it, than picking away at generosity, finding fault with it, tearing it to shreds?
* * *
With Christmas not far away, the town was once again bustling with shoppers, even though the snow continued falling. There was no convenient department-store but a series of small boutiques.
‘I don’t usually shop in places like this.’ Aggie dithered outside one of the boutiques as Luiz waited for her, his hand resting on the door, ready to push it open. ‘It looks expensive. Surely there must be somewhere cheaper?’ He dropped his hand and stood back to lean against the shop front.
They had walked into town in silence. It had irritated the hell out of Luiz. Women loved shopping. So what if she had accepted his offer to buy her clothes under duress? The fact was, she was going to be kitted out, and surely she must be just a little bit pleased? If she was, then she was doing a damned good job of hiding it.
‘And I’ve never stayed in a bed and breakfast before the one we’re in now,’ Luiz said shortly. ‘You’re fond of reminding me of all the things I’m ignorant of because I’ve been insulated by my background. Well, I’m happy to try them out. Have you heard me complain once about where we’re staying? Even though you’ve passed sufficient acid remarks about me being unable to deal with it because the only thing I can deal with are five-star hotels.’
‘No,’ Aggie admitted with painful honesty, while her face burned. She wanted to cover her ears with her hands because everything he was saying had a ring of truth about it.
‘So I’m taking it that there are two sets of rules here. You’re allowed to typecast me, whilst making damned sure that you don’t get yourself typecast.’
‘I can’t help it,’ Aggie muttered uncomfortably.
‘Well, I suggest you try. So we’re going to go into that shop and you’re going to try on whatever clothes you want and you’re going to let me buy whatever clothes you want. The whole damned shop if it takes your fancy!’
Aggie smiled and then giggled and slanted an upwards look at him. ‘You’re crazy.’
In return, Luiz smiled lazily back at her. She didn’t smile enough. At least, not with him. When she did, her face became radiantly appealing. ‘Compliment or not?’ he murmured softly, and Aggie felt the ground sway under her feet.
‘I’m not prepared to commit on that,’ she told him sternly, but the corners of her mouth were still twitching.
‘Come on.’
It was just the sort of boutique where the assistants were trained to be scary. They catered for rich locals and passing tourists. Aggie was sure that, had she strolled in, clad in her worn clothes and tired boots, they would have followed her around the shop, rearranging anything she happened to take from the shelves and keeping a close eye just in case she was tempted to make off with something.
With Luiz, however, shopping in an over-priced boutique was something of a different experience. The young girl who had greeted them at the door, as bug-eyed in Luiz’s presence as the waitress had been on Saturday in the café, was sidelined and they were personally taken care of by an older woman who confided that she was the owner of the shop. Aggie was made to sit on the chaise longe, with Luiz sprawled next to her, as relaxed as if he owned the place. Items of clothing were brought out and most were immediately dismissed by him with a casual wave of the hand.
‘I thought I was supposed to be choosing my own outfits,’ Aggie whispered at one point, guiltily thrilled to death by this take on the shopping experience.
‘I know what would look good on you.’
‘I should get some jeans…’ She worried her lower lip and inwardly fretted at the price of the designer jeans which had been draped over a chair, awaiting inspection. Belatedly, she added, ‘And you don’t know what would look good on me.’
‘I know there’s room for improvement, judging from the dismal blacks and greys I’ve seen you wear in the past.’
Aggie turned to him, hot under the collar and ready to be self-righteous. And she just didn’t know what happened. Rather, she knew exactly what happened. Their eyes clashed. His, dark and amused…Hers, blue and sparking. Sitting so close to each other on the sofa, she could breathe him in and she gave a little half-gasp.
She knew he was going to kiss her even before she felt his cool lips touch hers, and it was as if she had been waiting for this for much longer than a couple of days. It was as if she had been waiting ever since the very first time they had met.
It was brief, over before it had begun, although when he drew back she found that she was still leaning into him, her mouth parted and her eyes half-closed.
‘Bad manners to launch into an argument in a shop,’ he murmured, which snapped her out of her trance, though her heart was beating so hard that she could scarcely breathe.
‘You kissed me to shut me up?’
‘It’s one way of stopping an argument in the making.’
Aggie tried and failed to be enraged. Her lips were still tingling and her whole body felt as though it was on fire. That five-second kiss had been as potent as a red-hot branding iron. While she tried hard to conceal how affected she had been by it, he now looked away, the moment already forgotten, his attention back to the shop owner who had emerged with more handfuls of clothing, special items from the stock room at the back.
‘Jeans—those three pairs. Those jumpers and that dress…not that one, the one hanging at the back.’ He turned to Aggie, whose lips were tightly compressed. ‘You look as though you’ve swallowed