by Lilac Mills
Neither she nor Alex spoke until they reached the headland, and the only thing Alex said then was, ‘Shall we head back?’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak in case anything she uttered came out as a squeak, and they turned around and made their way wordlessly back to the villa. The waves crashing against the shore and the distant rumble of traffic from the coastal road barely broke the awkward silence, and she was extremely glad when she was able to dart into the house and into her room, with a muttered ‘good night’ as she did so.
With the door firmly shut, she leant against it, her heart beating so loudly it drowned out any other noise for some time, and she waited for her heart rate to slow before she moved away from the door. And all the while she was listening intently for any sounds from the rest of the villa.
But for a big man Alex was remarkably quiet, and all she could hear was the click of Paco’s claws on the tiled floor and the ever-present pulse of the sea.
Eventually she undressed and climbed into bed, imagining Alex doing the same thing on the other side of the wall, and wondering how on earth she was going to survive the next week or so until he flew back to Iceland. Because even after only one day, she was finding it almost impossible to keep her cool around him. Unbeknown to him, he’d woken something in her that she hadn’t even realised was dormant.
And now that her libido was well and truly awake, she had no idea what she was supposed to do with it.
Chapter 18
How the pair of them managed to avoid each other the following morning was a work of choreographic art. Sophie was awake early, having spent the night tossing and turning as a result of having several disturbing dreams, and she was up and out of the door with a bemused Paco before she’d rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
This time, instead of turning back at the headland as they had done last night, she’d carried on into Alcalá until she found a café and sat outside with a much needed coffee and a bowl of water the owner had thoughtfully provided for the dog.
She’d hoped that by the time she got back Alex would have left for the day, but as she approached the villa she noticed the car was still there, and when she stepped into the hall she heard the shower running. Pausing for a second, she thought of him in there, standing under the falling water, without any clothes on, and her treacherous imagination began to—
Stop it! This was ridiculous, she told herself.
She knew exactly what this was. She’d heard of people who’d had near-death experiences wanting to validate their lives, and she suspected that this was her mind telling her that she wasn’t the one who had died, and that her life was still to be lived.
Okaaay, that made a weird kind of sense, but did this new-found enthusiasm for life and love have to focus on the one man she really shouldn’t be getting involved with?
The shower stopped and Sophie held her breath, imagining him stepping out of it, towelling himself down and—
With an annoyed snort she dashed into her room and softly closed the door, but it seemed an interminable time before she heard him leave and was able to venture out again.
Most of the rest of the morning consisted of her trying to keep busy in order not to think about dark chocolate eyes and a hint of stubble. She was acutely aware that in a couple of hours she’d be meeting another man for lunch, and in order to refocus her mind she switched on the radio to the TEX station and listened to Dominic’s cheerful voice, catching the last half-hour or so of the show.
Before long she found she was singing along to the music and enjoying his upbeat banter with those listeners who had phoned in with requests. By the time the show ended, she was feeling more like herself and realised she was looking forward to watching him surf. He was a nice guy, she thought, and good-looking to boot. In fact, the two men were like day and night, and it seemed fitting that she’d spent last night with Alex (not all of it, obviously) and today would be spent with Dominic. Chalk and cheese. Night and day. Yin and yang.
She knew which was the safer bet, which one she’d be less likely to lose her heart to; and, if she did, which one of them would take the most care of it.
Alex’s world was so far from her own, his experiences so far removed from hers that he might as well live on another planet.
Never mind the fact that Dominic had lived on Tenerife for a big part of his life, she had the impression that he was British through and through, that he’d understand her and the subtle nuances that only someone brought up in the same culture could truly appreciate. And she wasn’t just thinking of language, either.
Oh, who was she kidding? She was reading far too much into everything. Alex hadn’t been going to kiss her, and Dominic was just being friendly. And that’s the way she wanted it to be, and the way it had to be. In around two months’ time she’d return to the UK and begin the next phase of her life. Tenerife was a pleasant interlude, nothing more, and any hint of romance could only be temporary. Just go with the flow and enjoy it for what it was, she told herself, as she got ready to watch a man in a wetsuit splash around in the surf like a seal.
As she approached the headland, she saw that the waves were quite strong, but not too high. Even in the short amount of time she’d been living at the villa, she found she was able to anticipate when the surfers would be in the water, and when the sea was too rough and dangerous for them to venture into it. In her limited experience today looked to be perfect, and there were already several dark heads bobbing about, and a few more people on the rocks, holding their boards.
She’d done a spot of research (purely not to look like a total idiot when Dominic talked about his hobby) and she realised that what the people here were doing was bodyboarding, not surfing, as no one stood up on their boards. Instead they lay across them and rode the wave in. Actually, it looked fun, but the temperature of the water and the fact that those exciting waves broke onto rocks put her off. Now, if there was a wide expanse of gently shelving golden sand and the sea was as warm as bathwater, she might seriously consider it. As it was, she was content to watch.
It wasn’t easy to tell who was who in those black suits that most of the bodyboarders wore, but there appeared to be an array of different colours when it came to the boards themselves, and when one of the surfers gave her a wave, she guessed it was probably Dominic. Waving back, she noted his bright green board, and from then on she found it easy to track his progress.
It was incredibly pleasant sitting on the rocks, watching other people play in the waves. The sun was almost directly overhead, and it would have been too hot to stay out if it wasn’t for the breeze and the occasional fine misting of spray from the larger waves. There was something terribly relaxing about listening to the sounds of the sea, and she wasn’t surprised when she felt her eyes starting to close. If she’d been sitting on something more comfortable, like a padded sun lounger and not a lump of rock, she might easily have fallen asleep. Last night hadn’t been the best night’s rest she’d ever had, and she could seriously do with a nap, but suddenly a shower of cold droplets cascaded over her and she was jerked out of her semi-doze by a laughing and totally unapologetic Dominic, who was standing above her, dripping all over her.
‘Wake up, sleepyhead. Was I really that boring? I think I’d better work on my technique,’ he joked, and shook water over her again.
Sophie leapt to her feet with a squeal. ‘That’s cold,’ she cried, giggling, brushing the drops of seawater off her warm arms. ‘And I was watching you, honest.’
‘What do you think?’
‘Oh… you were brilliant—’
‘Not me! Although I was pretty fantastic,’ he added, then laughed as a passing wetsuited man snorted with laughter.
‘In your dreams, Dom. You looked like a stranded whale,’ the man called out.
‘Meet Shaun. He’s supposed to be my friend, but clearly he’s just a guy who hangs around with the best in the hope that my fantastic boarding will rub off on him.’
Shaun flung a towel
at him, and Dominic caught it and threw it back. The two men were grinning, and Sophie envied them their easy banter. It was a long time since she’d—
Oh, for goodness’ sake! Everything was ‘a long time since’. She should stop feeling sorry for herself (because, let’s be honest, she wouldn’t have had it any other way and caring for her mum hadn’t been a chore but an act of love) and embrace this new life. Stop thinking about what had been and concentrate on the now. It’s what her mum would have wanted, and she could almost hear her scolding her for being so morbid.
‘I meant you,’ Dominic was saying, ‘before we were so rudely interrupted.’
‘Me what?’
‘Bodyboarding, silly. How about you giving it a go?’
Sophie looked over her shoulder, just in time to see a black figure go one way and his board go the other as a wave took him out. ‘No chance,’ she said. ‘And that’s the reason.’
Dominic laughed. ‘Immie’s wiped out again,’ he shouted over to Shaun, and Shaun gave him a thumbs up.
‘Immie is Shaun’s girlfriend. She loves the sport, but spends more time in the water than on her board.’
‘Which is exactly what I would be doing and why I don’t want to try.’
‘Not here, obviously. I’d take you to a nice beach with gentle waves and a cocktail at the end to celebrate.’
‘Nope.’ She shook her head. ‘I can do the cocktail bit, though, that sounds more like my type of thing.’
‘I’ll persuade you,’ Dominic said. ‘I’m a very persuasive guy. Now, how about lunch?’
‘Lovely, I’m starving.’ It must be all the sea air, because she couldn’t believe she was hungry so soon again after the meal last night.
Swiftly she shoved the thought of last night to the back of her mind before she began to think about something other than the food, and she turned to watch the remaining figures in the water while Dominic went to change behind one of the rocks, using only his towel for modesty. To her consternation, she wasn’t the slightest bit tempted to peek, but she had a feeling that if it had been Alex under that towel, she would have had trouble keeping her gaze away from him.
Dominic came back with his board tucked under one arm and holding a bag in his other hand. ‘My car is parked just over there.’ He pointed to the farmhouse, which was the closest house to the villa. ‘The owner, Luis, lets us leave our cars on his road. We used to park on the road to Villa Delfin but we kept blocking it and Hugo got cross. Besides’ Luis’ place is nearer and we’re a lazy bunch. We’ll happily spend all day in the water, just don’t ask us to walk any further than from a table to the bar.’
Sophie gazed around with interest as they strolled past the whitewashed farmhouse and its assorted buildings and along a track which passed between banana fields on either side. These, she noticed, were in considerably better shape than the semi-abandoned fields which lay behind Hugo’s villa.
‘Does Luis also own the fields between Hugo’s villa and the coastal road?’ she asked, taking note of the healthy-looking plants with bunches of unripe fruit hanging on them that she could see through the neatly mended netting.
Dominic gave her a quick look and shook his head. ‘Don’t you know? Those belong to Hugo.’
‘Do they? He never said.’ She’d had her suspicions, though.
‘He’s been having more and more trouble with his hips,’ Dominic said, ‘and for the last year or so he’s not been able to do a great deal on the plantation. It’s a shame to see them in such a state, but it won’t be for much longer, hopefully.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. It’ll be a good three months before he’s back to full mobility, and even then I don’t think he’ll be able to do a lot of the sort of physical work getting those fields back in order would entail.’
Dominic frowned at her. ‘I’m talking about the offer to buy his property.’
‘What offer?’
His eyes widened and he suddenly looked uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I… er, I’m not sure I should say.’
‘You’ve already said.’ She came to an abrupt halt and pulled at his arm, forcing him to stop and turn to face her.
‘That’s because I assumed you knew about it. If Hugo hasn’t told you, then I don’t think it’s my place to.’
‘You can’t leave it there. If he’s selling up, then surely I have a right to know because it affects me too.’
Dominic took a breath and stared into the distance at the sea still visible between the fields. ‘OK, I suppose it’s common knowledge around here anyway, so it’s not a big secret. Hugo owns the land from the start of the coastal path at Playa de la Arena to the edge of Luis’s fields, and from the road up there’ – he indicated the coast road at the top of the fields with a jerk of his head – ‘to the path down there.’
He started walking again, Sophie following, and as they rounded a slight bend a couple of cars came into view, parked where the track widened. He pointed a key at them and one of them beeped into life.
‘A Russian conglomerate wants to buy it and plonk a ruddy great hotel complex on it,’ he continued, opening the hatchback and throwing his bag in. The board was gently placed inside with a great deal more care.
‘Go on,’ Sophie said, once they were settled and Dominic had done a five-point turn in the narrow lane.
‘I don’t think many people are happy about it because there are already enough hotels and apartments in the area. There isn’t a need for more. And this section of the coast between La Arena and Alcalá is unspoilt and wild. It would be ruined if a massive hotel was to be built here. But what with Hugo’s health and the fact that he’s not getting any younger, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sells up.’
‘It kind of makes sense from a financial point of view,’ she said. ‘If he’s not able to keep the banana plantation going any longer, and he can’t afford to pay people to help…’ She thought back to her ‘interview’ and how Hugo had been at pains to clarify that most of her own wages would be in the form of bed and board. ‘At least if he sells the fields he’ll have enough money to live on for a good long while.’ She hoped so, having no idea how much a banana field cost. ‘He might even be able to do a bit of updating to the villa.’ An image of the run-down kitchen sprang into her mind. It was OK and she could manage perfectly well in it, but it could do with a bit of TLC.
‘Oh, the villa would have to be included in the sale, which is why we think Hugo has been hanging on for so long,’ Dominic informed her. ‘He doesn’t want the villa torn down to be replaced with a beach bar. Not that there’s much of a beach to speak of, what with it being so pebbly and rocky, but I’ve heard rumours that the new owners would build some kind of a pool and sunbathing area. I’m not sure of the details, but it all sounds very luxurious and extremely expensive. Right, we’re here. I hope you like fish.’
Sophie nodded automatically, her mind whirling. Hugo was considering selling the villa? How could he? It was gorgeous; a little dated, admittedly, but that only added to its charm. And the location was to die for. The thought of a hotel with all the associated staff and guests marring such a beautiful place filled her with dismay.
She wondered if Alex knew about this. In fact, maybe that was the reason he was here, to help his uncle negotiate the sale. Alex had said it was for work, but if that was the case, why had he been so secretive about it last night? Why didn’t Hugo want her to know about it? Was he worried she’d leave? Or was it hush-hush because the Russian conglomerate (what was one of those anyway?) wanted it to be? No, that couldn’t be it, because Dominic knew about it, and if he knew, then his parents probably did and so must a load of other people. Besides, he’d just said that it was common knowledge…
Her head was spinning as she tried to work out what was going on and she became progressively more confused.
It wasn’t until she was sitting at a table overlooking the sea and the smell of food wafted under her nose that she began to get a grip, telling herself that the sale of the villa w
as none of her business, and she was on the island for such a short time that she would most likely have left long before anything was finalised. But the thought of the villa not being there was rather upsetting. She loved the place, and she’d been anticipating being back in the UK and dreaming about it when she needed a respite from whatever her life would be like once she’d returned to reality. Because this wasn’t reality. This whole Tenerife experience was a delaying tactic, and an opportunity for her heart to heal a little and for her to grow stronger. And she’d been banking on holding onto the villa in her mind to serve as a light when things grew dark.
She was handed a menu and she made a valiant attempt to concentrate when she opened it. There they were, at a lovely restaurant overlooking the sea, and there she was being miserable and distracted. The situation wasn’t Dominic’s fault and it wasn’t fair for her to behave in this manner.
‘What do you recommend?’ she asked him, putting a bright smile on her face, even as she winced internally when she caught sight of the prices.
‘Sancocho canario is particularly good here. It’s fish served with sweet potato, gofio and papas arrugadas, a recipe which gives you sweetness, spiciness and saltiness all together on the same plate.’
‘I know what papas arrugadas are, but what’s gofio?’ she asked.
‘It’s a kind of toasted flour which is used in various dishes in the Canaries, but here it’s mixed with honey and almonds, and a little olive oil, then rolled into a sausage and sliced. It doesn’t sound great, and if I’m honest it doesn’t look too appetising either, but it’s a nice mixture of savoury and sweet, and goes really well with the fish.’
‘Go on, then, you’ve sold it to me.’
‘Sancocho canario para dos, por favour,’ Dominic said, handing the menus back to the waiter and then ordering some wine. ‘White,’ he informed her. ‘It’s chilled and delicious with the fish.’
That was twice in less than twenty-four hours she’d let a man choose her meal, and she wondered if all the men on the island were as knowledgeable about food as Alex and Dominic were. She was aware that for most islanders lunch and dinner were long-drawn-out affairs. They took the time to savour their food and lunch could last a couple of hours, with wine often being served. She recalled eating a hurried sandwich at her desk during those long-ago lunch breaks, and even afterwards, when she’d given up work to look after her mum, she tended to eat quickly in case she was needed.
