She said unsmilingly, ‘You’re too kind. But I think I’ve already experienced enough old Spanish customs to last me a lifetime.’
Downstairs, the air-conditioning was as efficient as she’d hoped, and her stateroom was pleasantly dim too as someone—Enrique, she supposed—had closed the blinds.
Her refuge, she thought, as she sank down on the sofa. But, as she soon discovered, only a fragile sanctuary at best. Because, as she stared in front of her with eyes that saw nothing, she found there was no escape from her inner images of the past.
Or, she realised with anguish, their pain.
HER flat was on the first floor, and she and Diaz had run up the stairs, she remembered, laughing and breathless, hand in hand. Outside her door they’d paused to kiss again, all restraint gone. When they’d fallen apart, Rhianna’s fingers had been shaking so much she’d hardly been able to fit the key in the lock, and Diaz, an arm clamped round her, his lips nuzzling her neck, had done it for her.
In the hallway they’d reached hungrily for each other again. His mouth pushing aside the loosened brocade lapels, seeking the curve of her breast. Her hands inside his unbuttoned shirt, spread against the hard, heated wall of his chest, registering the thunder of his heart.
He’d said her name hoarsely, and then, like a small uncertain echo, she’d heard ‘Rhianna’ spoken by a different voice, coming from an entirely different direction.
Her life had stopped. She’d turned sharply in disbelief and seen the small, slender figure standing, fragile and woebegone, in the doorway of the sitting room. Seen the dishevelled hair, the trembling mouth and the eyes swollen with tears.
‘Donna?’ She swallowed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I had to come back. I had nowhere else to go.’ The other woman gave a little sob. ‘Oh, Rhianna, I’m so sorry. Please try to understand…’
She looked past her at Diaz, a hand straying to her mouth. ‘I—I thought you’d be alone. I didn’t realise…’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Someone was speaking in her voice, Rhianna thought. Someone who sounded controlled and capable. Who wasn’t dying inside, of disappointment and so many other things besides.
She said levelly, ‘Donna, may I introduce Diaz Penvarnon? A cousin of my friend Caroline Seymour, whom I’ve mentioned to you.’ And paused. ‘Diaz, this is Donna Winston, a fellow cast member from Castle Pride. She was my flatmate until a short while ago, when she found—somewhere else.’
‘Which clearly hasn’t worked out,’ Diaz said quietly. He didn’t have to add, Exactly like tonight. But the words were there, all the same, hanging in the air between them, in all their regret and frustration. He said, ‘I’d better go. May I call you tomorrow? Are you in the book?’
She wasn’t, so she gave him her number hurriedly, watching as he logged it into his mobile phone.
Donna said with a catch in her voice, ‘I’ll make some coffee,’ and trailed off to the kitchen.
Diaz took Rhianna in his arms, smiling ruefully down at her. ‘I see the drama continues off-screen sometimes.’ He paused. ‘Man trouble?’
‘It seems so.’ I know so. She shook her head. ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry…’
‘So am I.’ His lips were gentle on hers. ‘But we’ll have our time, Rhianna. That’s a promise.’
And even then, when it had all started to fall apart, she’d believed him.
He’d rung the next day. ‘How’s the friend in need?’
‘Still needy,’ she’d admitted, worn out after a night of tears, recrimination and seriously bad news, but feeling her heart lift when she heard his voice.
‘And clearly around for the foreseeable future?’ He sounded amused and resigned. ‘I shall just have to be patient.’ He paused. ‘All the same, may I see you this evening? A film, maybe?’
‘Yes,’ she said, smiling foolishly into space. ‘That would be lovely.’
Donna, having slept late, mooned tearfully round the flat most of the day. In the late afternoon she said she was going to see her agent, and departed.
Rhianna, sighing with relief, could only pray that she’d also visit a company arranging flat rentals.
Because she cannot stay here, she told herself, sinking gratefully into a deep hot bath. Not again, and not now. Things have gone too far, and she knows that.
She was still in her robe when the door buzzer went, and she looked at her watch and laughed, because he was nearly forty minutes early.
She was still smiling when she opened the door.
‘Hello, Rhianna,’ said Simon, and walked past her without waiting for an invitation. ‘Are you alone? Good. Because it’s time for a serious chat, I think.’
‘Not now,’ she said quickly. ‘It—it’s really not convenient. I’m expecting someone.’ The last person in the world who should find you here…
‘Tough.’ He went into the sitting room, straight to the corner cupboard, and found the Scotch, pouring himself a generous measure.
When he turned, there was brooding anger in his face.
‘I suppose she’s told you?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Also that you’ve dumped her, accused her of getting pregnant deliberately in order to trap you, and ordered her to have an abortion. Nice work, Simon.’
‘Of course you’re on her side,’ he said. ‘All sisters together against the male oppressor. I know how it works. But don’t be taken in by the innocent big brown eyes. She didn’t need much persuading—as you must have noticed when you walked in on us that night.’
She hadn’t forgotten. One of her rare migraines had threatened, sending her home early from a supper party. She’d heard noises from the sitting room and pushed open the door, to see Donna and Simon, naked and entwined on the rug in front of the fireplace, engrossed in vigorous and uninhibited sex.
Donna had seen her first and screamed. Simon had flung himself off his partner’s body with more haste than finesse.
Rhianna had retreated to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed, fighting incipient nausea as the implications of what she’d interrupted came home to her.
She took a breath. ‘Believe me, I’m on no one’s side,’ she said bitterly. ‘But do you realise she was actually threatening suicide last night?’
‘That’s just ridiculous talk,’ he said flatly. ‘Ignore it.’ He added, ‘You do realise, I hope, that this baby simply cannot be born? I’m not going to lose all I want out of life just for one bloody stupid mistake.’
‘Don’t you mean a whole series of them?’ She faced him, chin up, angry herself as she wondered defeatedly what had happened to the Simon she’d once known and whom, briefly and long ago, she’d thought she wanted.
I used to envy Carrie so much I was ashamed to look at her, she thought. Now I’m just ashamed.
She added fiercely, ‘This is hardly a unilateral decision by you. A termination is incredibly serious for a woman.’
‘And my future is equally serious,’ he retorted, taking a gulp of whisky. ‘For God’s sake, Rhianna. You know what this would do to Carrie if she found out. That can’t be allowed to happen. Admit it, damn you.’
‘Yes,’