Island Fling to Forever

by Sophie Pembroke

  Wincing, Jude nodded, reluctantly. ‘Yes.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ROSA SMILED. This guest list featured some of New York’s most celebrated and fabulous citizens—of course Jude, rock-star celebrity, would know them. And probably know them well enough to be able to tell her who shouldn’t be sat next to whom, and which of them were likely to cause the most trouble. She might not like doing the admin and organising side of things—she’d always been more of the ‘make it up as you go along’ type, like her mother—but if she had to do it, then some insider knowledge would most definitely prove helpful.

  ‘You can help me, then,’ she said, and saw Jude wince again. What was the problem? These were his friends—he should be looking forward to seeing them. Except...she flipped through the guest list. ‘Hang on, why aren’t you invited to this shindig?’

  Jude sighed. ‘Probably because one of the bridesmaids broke up with me six weeks ago.’

  ‘Sylvie. Right.’ That might explain all the wincing. ‘So, was it her or the book that you ran all the way to Spain to escape from?’

  ‘Bit of both,’ Jude murmured, but didn’t elaborate.

  ‘I guess you won’t be staying for the wedding, then?’ At least his answer had proved her right about one thing—Jude was hiding. But how bad an ex-girlfriend were they talking about that he had to run away to a decrepit Spanish island to escape her?

  Mind you, she’d run to the other end of the earth to escape him, and he’d been pretty much perfect.

  Of course, that was why she’d run. Perfection was terrifying—especially in the face of all her faults.

  ‘Depends, I guess,’ Jude said. Then he shook his head. ‘I honestly don’t know. I came here to get away from everything, but now...maybe this is meant to be. Maybe it’s time to face some demons from my past.’

  His gaze caught hers as he said it, and suddenly Rosa felt the knowledge that they weren’t just talking about his ex, or some book any more weighing heavy on her heart.

  She’d tried not to think too much about Jude after she left—that way, she was pretty sure, madness lay. Or at best, running back to him, just when she’d escaped his thrall. Rosa wasn’t the sort to dwell. She moved on, got over it and kept going. That was all she knew.

  He talked about being here to face his demons as if it were a good thing. If Rosa had the choice, she’d be running as fast as she could in the opposite direction from everything and everyone on La Isla Marina.

  ‘So...you’re planning on staying?’ Rosa asked, surprised. ‘And I kind of have to stay.’ At least, if she wanted her family to speak to her ever again. Although she’d gone three years without that from Anna and her father already... No. Rosa didn’t have so much family that she could be quite that cavalier about losing them.

  ‘So we’re both here. On the island. For the duration.’ Jude’s gaze was heavy and meaningful, and Rosa had an awful feeling she knew exactly where he wanted this conversation to go: back to the night she left, and searching for explanations why.

  Yeah, she really wasn’t ready to have that talk yet. Let him deal with his other demons—whatever they were—first, and come back to her last. Like when someone was taking for ever to make up their mind choosing from the menu in a restaurant, and asked the waiter to ask them again at the end.

  But Jude wasn’t a waiter. And if she couldn’t avoid Jude any longer, she might as well take advantage of the fact he was there. Apart from anything else, giving him something else to focus on—like the impending arrival of his ex—might distract him from their own past. And honestly? She could use the help.

  Pasting on a bright smile, she ignored the vibes and merrily changed the subject. ‘Great! Well, in that case, you can definitely help me out with all these tasks Anna’s left for me. I’m sure your insider knowledge will be invaluable.’

  Jude didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect. In fact, he didn’t look as if he wanted to change the subject at all.

  ‘Rosa. Don’t you think we need to talk—’

  ‘Not really,’ she said, honestly. ‘I think we were friends, three years ago, before anything else. Maybe we can be that again. I have too much to focus on here for this wedding to even think about anything else right now.’

  He didn’t agree with her; she could see it in his face. Jude was the talking sort, and she, well, wasn’t. Not unless she had to be.

  But then, just as Jude opened his mouth to argue, Sancia appeared in the doorway, holding a tray of tapas and flanked by Rosa’s father, carrying wine.

  She had, quite seriously, never been so pleased to see her parents in her whole life.

  ‘Mama! Dad!’ She jumped up from her chair and bounced across the courtyard to help them with the plates. Her father in particular looked surprised at the welcome. Understandably, she supposed. They’d never been affectionate, the two of them. Professor Gray kept even people he loved and liked, like Sancia or Anna, at arm’s length, and he’d never known what to make of his younger, wilder daughter. It was as if blood was the only thing they’d ever had in common.

  Until now. Now, they all had the future of La Isla Marina in common. And she and her father had the added connection of Jude’s friendship.

  Now, they were all going to have to try and get along for a while.

  And they could start by getting her out of a very awkward conversation with Jude. ‘Why don’t you come and join us? Jude has lots of questions about the island.’

  Once Sancia got talking about La Isla Marina, it would be impossible for anyone to get a word in edgeways. Especially if that word was the one question Rosa really didn’t want to answer. Why?

  Because, seeing Jude again, all of her reasons had already started to fade away. And she couldn’t afford to let that happen. Not when she knew she was leaving again, as soon as this wedding was over.

  * * *

  Jude awoke the next morning to the sound of the sea lapping against the rocks outside his bungalow window, the sun already shining through the thin gauze curtains. He lay for a moment just enjoying the peace, the solitude and the beauty of La Isla Marina.

  And then his brain caught up with his body.

  Rosa was here. Sylvie was coming here. And he’d promised to spend his day helping Rosa prepare for the socialite wedding of the year.

  Just perfect.

  His head suddenly aching, Jude forced himself out of bed and into the shower. So much for his idyllic secret getaway. From the look of Rosa’s clipboard, half of Manhattan was now following him there. And it wasn’t even the half he really liked.

  Letting the water sluice over his skin, Jude thought back over the strange events of the day before. Had he been imagining it, or had Rosa been trying to avoid talking about their history together? She certainly hadn’t let on to her parents how close they’d been, once. Instead, she’d talked about him as just one more subject she’d photographed and written about.

  Maybe that was all he was, to her.

  Could he have imagined that connection between them? That instantaneous, shocking attraction?

  Had she just been patiently listening three years ago, as he’d poured out his heart to her, in the hope that she’d find a good story?

  No.

  He shook water droplets from his hair as he stepped out of the shower, letting the warm Spanish air dry his skin.

  He’d seen the same confusion and amazement in Rosa’s eyes, that first night they’d been together. That overwhelmed, overtaken look that had echoed exactly how he’d felt.

  She’d been as rocked by their connection as he had. She’d just reacted differently.

  And maybe now the universe was giving him the chance to find out why—whether she wanted to tell him or not.

  Rosa might have distracted him last night with Sancia’s tales of the island, and the truly excellent wine and tapas she provided. But to
day was another day—and they’d already arranged to meet at the villa to go over the guest list and arrangements.

  Jude smiled to himself as he pulled on his dark linen trousers and a crisp white linen shirt. If Rosa wanted his help, she’d better be prepared to pay in her secrets.

  Especially since she already knew all of his.

  * * *

  The villa was deserted when he reached Reception, so Jude loitered in the cool shade of the tiled reception hall. The white painted arches overhead and the cool vistas reminded him more of a Middle Eastern palace than a Spanish villa, but he liked the feel of the place. It felt as if time had stopped, or at least slowed to a lazy, honey-slow meander. After the bustle of New York City, Jude was enjoying the change of pace.

  Sancia had told him the romantic tale of how the island came to her in her family the night before: how Sancia’s grandparents had built the villa as their retreat from the world when they married, and how Sancia’s parents had built the resort around it when they inherited it. At one time, it was supposed to have been a jewel in the Med, the place for the movers and shakers of the time to be seen.

  He supposed it would be again, soon. If they got all the necessary work done on time.

  Jude was about to reach across the reception desk to pick up the phone and see if there was a direct line to the office, or someone—anyone—who might know where Rosa was, when she suddenly appeared before him.

  He blinked. ‘Where did you come from?’

  ‘Mama didn’t show you the secret door, then, when she gave you the tour?’ Rosa grinned. ‘Good. A girl has to have some secrets.’

  ‘Secret door?’ Jude honestly couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or not. ‘Are you kidding?’

  Rosa shook her head. ‘Nope! There’s a secret door somewhere in this reception hall that leads to the family quarters. How else are we poor staff supposed to get some peace and quiet from all you demanding guests?’

  ‘I’m going to spend my entire stay trying to figure out whether you’re making this up or not,’ Jude admitted, which made Rosa’s grin grow even wider.

  ‘I’m okay with that,’ she answered.

  ‘So, where do we start today?’ Jude nodded at the clipboard in Rosa’s hands. ‘Want to go through and see how many names I recognise? Or how about you run me through the schedule for the week, see if I can highlight any potential danger zones.’ If he was here to be useful, he might as well make an effort. And by pure osmosis—and listening to Sylvie gossip—he thought he could probably offer some pretty good insights. Who was likely to abuse the free bar and might need to be kept away from the sea afterwards. Who would find something to complain about regardless, so it was worth giving them a tiny flaw in their bungalow that was easily fixed, just so they’d feel happy. Hell, he even knew one of the bridesmaids was allergic to fresh-cut flowers!

  How much of his brain had been taken over by this world—Sylvie’s world? The world of celebrity that his label wanted him to be seen in.

  What had happened to the music being the most important thing?

  ‘All of those sound like great ideas,’ Rosa said. ‘But actually... I thought we might take a walk around the island, first. I kind of want to see what Anna’s been doing here for the last two weeks, and get an idea of what shape we’re in, before I get down to the nitty-gritty stuff.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Jude said. ‘Of course, it also sounds like a total procrastination attempt to avoid doing the actual work Anna left you...’

  Rosa hit him in the arm with her clipboard, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him shut up and grin at her.

  This was interesting. Last time they’d met, they’d been on his home turf—as much as a band tour bus could be called anyone’s home. They’d been in his world, before The Swifts had really hit the mainstream and started playing stadiums instead of pubs and tiny music venues. He’d known his place there, in a way he didn’t quite, these days.

  But this time, they were on Rosa’s patch—her family home, even, for all that it was also an island resort. This was the place she ran to when they called—rather than running away.

  And that meant he got to see a whole other side of Rosa, this time. Maybe he’d even see enough to understand why she left.

  Rosa led them out of the villa, down the long, straight path that led back to the jetty and escape from the island. But before they reached the sea, she took a sharp right down a narrower path, through recently cut-back lush greenery. It was the opposite direction from Jude’s own bungalow, but, still, things looked familiar.

  The bungalows they passed were just like the one he was staying in—low and white, half hidden between the plants and brightly coloured flowers. The smell of fresh paint lingered as they got closer to one; Jude knew that even a few days ago many of them had been grey and dingy. One or two he’d seen on his rambles across the island had displayed broken roof tiles and wooden shutters that hung from their hinges.

  Not now, though.

  Now, every bungalow gleamed in the sunlight, the freshly painted shutters giving a splash of colour against the white walls. The jungle Jude had fought his way through on arrival had been tamed, so the island looked lush, fresh and green, rather than overtaken by plants. Even the patios outside the bungalows had been swept, scrubbed, and the iron patio furniture cleaned and looking ready for use.

  It was quite the transformation. If Jude had been paying more attention to the island, rather than his own thoughts—and Scrabble games—he would have noticed sooner. As it was, suddenly he could see what had drawn Valentina to the island.

  Rosa was surveying it with a more critical eye. ‘How bad was it? Before the work started, I mean.’

  Jude shrugged. ‘It was already pretty far under way when I arrived.’

  ‘But some parts weren’t done yet, right? What did they look like?’

  ‘They were...’ He winced as he tried to find the words to describe how run-down and derelict parts of the island had looked, just a week or so ago.

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  ‘Worse,’ he admitted. ‘Anna and Leo—and their crew—have done an incredible job around here.’

  Rosa let out a long sigh. ‘Then she’s going to be even more unbearable when she gets back.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jude dropped to sit on the cast-iron chair on the patio of the nearest bungalow. Motioning across the table, he indicated for Rosa to take the other seat.

  ‘We should have brought coffee with us,’ she grumbled as she sat.

  Having tasted Sancia’s coffee, Jude definitely agreed. But getting Rosa to talk about herself, that was good, too.

  Part of him wondered why he still cared—why it still mattered to him at all. It had been three years since she’d left him, and it wasn’t as if they’d had a lengthy relationship before that. It had been a short, hot fling—and if he had any sense at all, he’d just keep the memory of that and move on.

  Why had he expected anything else, anything more? Because it had felt so real, while it was happening. And like a dream once it was over.

  There’d been women since, of course—short-term and long-term. And his life had changed beyond all measure—the tour bus replaced with a private jet, and the grim pubs they’d played with hundred-thousand-seater stadiums. His music was recognised, loved, had gone double platinum—twice. The band had grown closer still, as they’d gone through all the changes together. Especially after they’d lost Gareth. They all knew they had to take care of each other, in a way they hadn’t been able to take care of Gareth. In the way he should have taken care of Gareth.

  But somehow, Jude had become the star—more recognisable than his bandmates, the one the papers and magazines wanted to interview, to photograph. The one who drew the rumours and the stories and the lies.

  Still. He had so many people in his life now—from bandmates to friends to acquai
ntances to his agent to the people at the label to the über-fans—that Rosa should have faded from his consciousness completely. He shouldn’t even have recognised her when she walked in last night.

  But he’d known her voice in an instant.

  Maybe it was just that he knew what had gone wrong with every other relationship in his life—but Rosa’s motives for leaving remained a mystery. But deep down, Jude knew it was more than that.

  He’d opened his heart and his soul to this woman, let her see everything that he was. She was the only person he’d ever done anything close to that for—besides Gareth. But Gareth had been his best friend since they were three. He’d known Rosa less than a month. And still, she was the only person in the world that had seen every inch of the real him. The only one to know him at all, once Gareth died.

  And she’d run away. What did that say about the real him?

  No wonder he hadn’t let anyone else so close since.

  He wanted to know her as well as she’d known him, then. Wanted to understand her—find what was wrong with him, or with her, that she’d left and never looked back.

  Starting with her obviously acrimonious relationship with her sister.

  ‘So. What’s the deal with you and your sister?’

  Rosa stared mutinously at him. ‘We’re sisters. What do you expect?’

  Jude thought about his cousins—three sisters who were so close they could practically read each other’s mind. ‘I guess all sibling relationships are different.’

  ‘You’re an only child,’ she pointed out, and Jude felt a small jolt as he realised she’d remembered that small fact about him. ‘What would you know?’

  She was right, he supposed. He’d had Gareth, but that wasn’t the same. They’d grown up together, sure, but they hadn’t had the same parents, lived the same life in the same place, not until they were eighteen.

  ‘So tell me,’ he suggested.

  Rosa sighed. ‘Anna and I...there’s only two years between us, but sometimes it feels more like decades.’

  ‘You’re not very alike?’