'I'll escort Miss Farleigh to her chalet, sir,' Lorenzo said smoothly, suddenly appearing in front of them and staring unsmilingly into the Dutchman's eyes.
The man faltered and Lorenzo bowed slightly, taking Ros's hand and neatly interposing his own bulk – and Ros suddenly appreciated how muscular he in fact was – between her and her admirer as she stepped hurriedly away from him.
'Goodnight, sir,' Lorenzo murmured and calmly walked away, Ros almost running to keep beside him since he kept her hand in a firm grip.
'Thank you,' she gasped. 'I hadn't realised he'd followed me,' she added, feeling an odd need to excuse herself.
'You aren't fit to be on your own,' Lorenzo said curtly. 'You should know better than to encourage a man by dancing so close to him. No wonder he felt optimistic after that display!'
'That's unfair!' Ros retorted. 'I've been avoiding him all evening. And it's difficult to push someone as strong and big as he is away without making a scene,' she added angrily.
'Is it?' Lorenzo asked softly, stopping and looking down at Ros as they reached her chalet. 'Do you deliberately entice a man for some perverse reason, teasing him until he's driven nearly distracted? You're not averse to my kisses. I can't believe you're as cold or as innocent as you pretend.'
Ros stared up at him angrily but could not move away from those penetrating eyes. Suddenly she shivered and Lorenzo must have felt it. Brusquely he turned her and pushed her towards the chalet door.
'Get in. If you really are a snow maiden you shouldn't play with fire.'
With fingers trembling so much she could scarcely control them Ros unlocked the door. She half expected Lorenzo to force his way into the chalet after her, but before she had the door open she heard his footsteps retreating, going towards the hotel. She breathed a sigh of relief and hastily relocked the door. Then the reaction hit her and she fumed with anger both against the persistent Dutchman who had caused the whole wretched situation, and Lorenzo who thought her so despicable.
Furiously she tried to blot from her memory the whole evening, but without success. Long after she was in bed the recollection of Lorenzo's angry words drummed into her ears, and she was pale and had dark patches under her eyes when she went to breakfast the next day.
*
'You look worn out, Ros,' Veronica commented. 'Didn't you sleep well?'
'Headache. I'll be fine after some food,' Ros replied and tried to smile.
'Why not go back to bed for a while?'
'No. I wouldn't sleep, and I'll be better with something to do,' Ros answered. 'I mean to take the car and explore.'
She escaped without needing to answer more questions. To her relief Lorenzo hadn't come in, and she was soon in Palma, looking through the newspaper files.
As she read she became more puzzled, and apprehensive. She read the papers published for the month after Tim's last letter, going through them methodically and with great thoroughness. She knew from Mandy Lorenzo's accident had taken place a few days afterwards, but none of the papers made the slightest reference to it.
After a while she sat back thoughtfully. Accidents of that sort were infrequent enough to attract some attention, and there had been another slight accident about this time which had been much less dramatic than Lorenzo's, merely a capsized dinghy in Palma harbour due to the same sudden storm and the rescue of a couple of teenage girls, but which had occupied a good deal of space.
Everyone at the Castilla believed in the accident, so why no report? Had it been faked? Yet if it had, what was the purpose if only the hotel people knew? Surely it would have been pointless unless it received publicity? Then the thought struck her that in order to explain Tim's disappearance only the hotel had to know, and a faked accident reported to the authorities might have been exposed.
Lorenzo had been in hospital. They would have records, but how could she check them? After a few moments of concentrated thought Ros nodded, left the newspaper office and took a taxi to the hospital.
She presented a business card and explained they were creating a web site on the Internet for a company supplying safety equipment for boats. They needed information on accidents and injuries. Soon she was closeted with a young doctor who answered questions about the frequency of accidents, the types of injuries, and was, with the help of some shameless fluttering of eyelashes, inveigled into talking about odd or amusing incidents. When he suggested lunch she agreed promptly.
She had no difficulty in bringing the talk round to Lorenzo. 'I heard of one case where someone had been cast up on a Minorcan beach and almost died from exposure. Just before Christmas, or possibly November, I think it was. Does that happen frequently?'
'I remember him. Haughty fellow. Thought he knew better than we did and only agreed to remain for observation if we gave him a private room and a telephone. He was lucky. He'd been sailing a boat too big for him, I think. But that sort of thing doesn't happen often, and when his boat was discovered there was quite a fuss until he was found.'
'How did it happen?' Ros asked.
'Powerboat out of control. They'd baled out some way back, and another boat had picked them up. No one knew about the collision until the other boat was found, empty and half sunk.'
'You say the boat was too big for him. Was there anyone else helping to sail it?'
'Not so far as I know, and the wretched man wouldn't agree it was too much for him, said he often took it out alone and damned us for incompetent fools even to suggest it.'
The memory clearly still annoyed him, but Ros had discovered a little more information and was absorbed in sorting it out. The accident had happened, so why had it not been reported in the press? Why was Lorenzo important? Or was it someone behind him? And she still knew nothing of Tim's possible involvement.
*
She escaped from the doctor, evading his efforts to make a date, and went back to the Castilla. It was a warm, sunny day, and she ordered coffee and went out onto the terrace. Soon afterwards Lorenzo joined her.
'We must go out in my boat soon,' he said.
'Does the hotel employ its own boatman?' she asked casually.
'He was old, and now Pablo employs someone from Palma,' Lorenzo said curtly. Was it her imagination that he gave her an odd look?
'Tomorrow, I will take you to dine at a favourite place of mine,' he said, and Ros blinked.
'You will, will you?' she asked tartly.
'Yes,' he said, and grinned before he rose and strolled away.
Ros fumed. She was not at all certain she wished to spend an entire evening with Lorenzo again.
Lorenzo was playing again at dinner and Ros did not speak with him. The Dutchman sat at the far side of the dining room and occasionally glowered at Lorenzo, although he took care to avoid looking at Ros. She left early and went to the chalet, taking the opportunity of an early night.
The following day she took the car and drove up the zig-zag road towards the Soller Pass. She stopped whenever there was a parking place, refusing to be distracted by the wonderful views of the mountains and the olive groves which stretched all up the valley, and tried to identify the house Tim had marked. It was frustratingly difficult. Few of them could be seen from the road, and those that were visible were nothing like the one in the picture. She ventured along a couple of driveways, but soon came to locked and electrified gates, beyond which she found fierce-looking guard dogs who barked angrily as soon as they saw her.
She had to give up in the end and return to the Castilla. She parked the car and went to take a hurried shower. Then she pulled on the figure-hugging lime green trouser suit, choosing it rather than the blue dress, knowing the low cut bodice of the latter would be too daring. She put a few necessities into a black satin evening purse, took a last critical look in her mirror, and left the chalet.
*
'Good evening,' Lorenzo greeted her immediately. She looked up, startled. Had he been waiting there or had he just happened to come past at the same time? He was in formal evening d
ress and looked incredibly handsome and yet somehow more remote than usual, aloof rather than arrogant, she thought as she tried to still the sudden flutter his abrupt appearance had caused to her breathing. Then he smiled and the remoteness fled, but Ros still found it rather difficult to breathe properly.
'Good evening. I'm not late, am I?'
'Admirably punctual, my lovely darling,' he drawled as he tucked her arm through his and they began to walk towards the hotel. 'Where have you been today?'
'Part of the way to Soller,' she replied, her heart thumping at his nearness and the endearment so that her words were scarcely audible and he leaned slightly sideways in order to hear them. The proximity of his face to hers made Ros feel unduly hot, and she fanned herself with her purse.
They left soon afterwards and drove to a luxurious and popular night club in the Terreno district below Bellver Castle. The visitors were of many nationalities and most of them were clearly wealthy, sporting designer dresses and dripping with jewels. The table was in an excellent position close to the small dance floor, with a good view of the tiny stage yet well out of the way so that they did not have a constant procession past them as the dancers and waiters moved about.
Lorenzo smiled greetings to other diners as they were led to their table. A small orchestra played softly and couples were already dancing.
The food, though good, was far inferior to that Ros had enjoyed in the small country restaurant. When Lorenzo led her onto the floor she trembled as his arms closed about her. Why did his touch affect her so? She'd never felt like this even with Larry. But he held her loosely, almost impersonally, as he guided her around the tiny dance floor. He was a superb dancer, athletic and lithe, and gradually Ros relaxed and began to enjoy the evening.
The principal attraction amongst the performers was a guitarist who gave a virtuoso rendering of classical Spanish music which had the audience applauding wildly and demanding more.
'I wish I could play like he does,' Lorenzo said at the end, having been utterly absorbed in the performance. 'I'm an amateur. Even if I played every day I'd never come half way towards his class.'
Ros looked at him in some surprise. She wouldn't have expected Lorenzo, with his supreme self assurance, to admit being inferior to anyone, but she knew he was right. Lorenzo was talented but the other man had genius. Did it gall Lorenzo to have to admit it? He had seemed a man unwilling to tolerate a rival, but she realised she'd misjudged him. And why, she thought suddenly, did he call himself an amateur when he earned his living playing the guitar? Was it his way of deprecating his own talent?
The dancing had started again when Ros heard a woman's voice exclaiming in delight.
'Lorenzo! What are you doing here, darling? I thought you were still in Paris.'
*
Ros looked round quickly to find Lorenzo standing beside a tall golden haired woman. She wore a very expensively plain white dress which admirably set off her tan and revealed a considerable amount of her voluptuous charms. Her hand was laid possessively on his arm and she was smiling up at him from under unbelievably long dark eyelashes.
'I left earlier than I'd planned,' Lorenzo said calmly, but Ros thought from his expression he seemed remarkably pleased to meet this woman.
'Where are you? I have my usual apartment, darling, you must come and visit me and tell me all your news. Bye now, I mustn't take you from your little friend.'
'Goodbye, Juanita. I'll call on you soon,' Lorenzo said easily, and without stopping to be introduced the woman swept away. She joined a man who had halted a few steps away and was clearly waiting for her, and equally clearly annoyed about her conversation with Lorenzo, judging by the venomous looks cast towards him.
Lorenzo had a slight reminiscent smile on his lips as he sat down again. He turned to Ros and shrugged slightly.
'That was Juanita Santos, she's a singer who often worked in the same hotels. She has a truly awesome artistic temperament,' he added with a grin. 'Ros, shall we dance?'
This time he held Ros more closely, and although she was at first stiff she gradually responded to the music and the rhythm, and relaxed. She felt equally at home with him in slow romantic waltzes or lively modern dances.
The night club stayed open until the dawn, but at two o'clock Lorenzo stood up and pulled Ros to her feet. He slipped his arm about her as they walked the few steps to the dance floor and then drew her gently into his arms as they drifted to the sensuous music of the waltz.
'No longer afraid to trust me, my sweet?' he whispered softly into Ros's ear and she looked up, startled, to find his face very close to her own. Her heart beat uncomfortably loudly but she managed to smile and although she did not know whether she really believed it, shook her head.
He'd never forced his attentions on her, she thought, but made it plain he wished their relationship to develop, and was impatiently biding his time. She suspected he'd be unwilling to wait long. He was a sexually attractive man with strong passions, accustomed to getting his own way.
At the Castilla most of the hotel lights were out apart from in the foyer and one of the lounges, and along the paths between the chalets. Ros walked beside Lorenzo towards her chalet. He had his arm about her waist and when they reached the chalet he turned her gently to face him.
'Don't be afraid of me, Ros, my dear. I mean you no harm, I want only to give you love, to protect you, to make up to you for the hurt. When will you let me?'
He traced the line of her cheek with a gentle finger, then forced her chin up, lifting her face towards him. She was trembling with a variety of emotions amongst which fear was predominant, but when he dropped his lips to hers and pulled her close to him she forgot everything apart from the exquisite joy of being folded in his arms and feeling his firm yet sensuous lips against hers. She returned his kisses, nervously at first, then with a wild abandon as if nothing else in the whole world mattered other than being held in his arms for ever.
At last, with a shuddering sigh, he released her.
'Go in quickly, while I still retain some sanity,' he murmured, and turned her gently towards the door. Ros fumbled for her key and somehow managed to get it in the lock and open the door. 'Goodnight, my dearest love,' he whispered as he pushed it open.
She heard his rapid footsteps receding as she turned round to close the door, and stood with her back to it, breathless, reliving those magic moments until she could hear him no more.
*
Chapter 6
What was happening to her? Ros tossed and turned as she tried to disentangle her emotions and thoughts. The man was a flirt. An engaging, interesting, handsome flirt she admitted. And manipulative, since having discovered on his first attempt she was unwilling to fall into his arms immediately he'd managed to lull her suspicions and win her confidence before trying to kiss her again. And she'd permitted the kiss. She had even, she admitted to herself in surprise, enjoyed it.
It was silly, and possibly dangerous. She couldn't, must not fall in love with him, she thought in panic. She didn't know if he was married. It could be he had a wife and several children waiting for him at his home near Madrid. The nature of his job meant he had to travel. The holiday atmosphere was conducive to sudden romances, to flirtations. Perhaps she had given him some sort of challenge by her rebuff, her coolness on her arrival. A man of thirty-five or so, with his charm, and she readily admitted she'd been affected by it, would have had dozens if not hundreds of girl friends. He must be very particular, or easily bored, if he'd not yet married. And in any case there would only be heartbreak for her if she allowed herself to become too involved with him.
Here Ros pulled herself up short. Why was she even thinking in such terms? Kisses meant little to such men and no doubt too many girls were willing to return Lorenzo's kisses. Well, she told herself rather defiantly, Lorenzo had proved to her she was not unresponsive to men. He'd helped her finally forget Larry.
But she didn't want to fall for Lorenzo, she thought in dismay, and felt a tremo
r of panic flow through her again. Not Lorenzo, for there could be nothing more than a holiday romance with him. She mustn't permit herself to grow fond of him, easy though it would be, for that way lay further agony and heartbreak. Besides, she had to find her brother and discover whether and how much Lorenzo was implicated in his disappearance.
*
Ros drank black coffee for breakfast. It didn't wake her up sufficiently for her to concentrate on thinking what more she could do to trace Tim, so later she went down to the pool. Two other hotel guests were there already, swimming relentlessly up and down the length of the pool while Lorenzo floated lazily, eyes closed, in the deep end.
Ros watched him for a moment, wondering whether to retreat before he saw her. He wore brief dark green trunks and his body was that of an athlete, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long muscular legs. No surplus fat marred his splendid physique. The thought of being crushed to his hard body again made her both bewildered and angry. She would not allow him to spoil her plans. As she began pulling on her bathing cap an admiring whistle sounded from the pool, but it was one of the energetic swimmers and she recognised a pleasant young Texan on vacation with his young wife. She waved and grinned at them and then dived cleanly into the water, coming up to find Lorenzo swimming towards her, a laughing expression in his eyes.
'Trying to drown me, were you?' he demanded in mock menace, and made a lunge for her. She evaded him by diving under water again, but although she tried every trick she knew he soon caught her and, both hands on her waist, lifted her high out of the water before tossing her back into it. For a while the Texans, Matt and Julie-Anne, joined in the fun and they played a hilarious game with a giant beach ball until the other two, declaring themselves exhausted, departed for lunch.
'We'll have lunch here,' Lorenzo said as he lifted Ros onto the side of the pool. 'Why don't you always laugh? I hate to see you so cold and aloof. I knew that beneath that prim ice there was a real woman.'
Island Quest Page 6
