All Night Long

by Anne Mather

‘It doesn’t matter—’

  ‘It does.’ Ally gazed at him with wide uncertain eyes, and Raul uttered a groan.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’ He started towards the door. ‘Get a good night’s rest.’

  ‘Wait!’ Ally went after him. ‘I didn’t mean—that is, I’m sorry if I’ve spoiled the evening.’

  ‘You haven’t.’ He almost growled the words. Then he gave her a tormented look. ‘Let me go, Ally Sloan, or I may do something we’ll both regret.’ His hand came out almost of its own volition and shaped her cheek. ‘You’re very sweet, do you know that? And I’m old enough to know better.’

  Ally drew a trembling breath. ‘You’re not implying that I invited you in here to—to—’

  ‘I’m not implying anything,’ he said huskily. And then, with a muffled oath, he bent his head and brushed her mouth with his…

  ‘If you look there, you can just see San Cristobál.’ Mike Mclean’s voice dragged her back to the present and she gathered her scattered senses to look where he was pointing. ‘Can you see it? It’s that fish-tailed island just west of Marlin Cay.’

  Ally had no idea what Marlin Cay was, but she recognised San Cristobál from his description. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘How much longer is it going to take?’

  ‘Oh—ten, fifteen minutes,’ replied Mike, giving her a cheerful grin. ‘I bet you’re looking forward to seeing Suze again. She said you’ve known one another a long time.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Ally endeavoured to distract herself from her thoughts.

  ‘How come you haven’t been out to see her before?’

  ‘Well…’ Ally hesitated. ‘It hasn’t been—possible.’

  She neglected to tell him that both Suzanne and Peter had never liked Jeff; that they’d both thought he was a user and that they thought he’d neglected Ally shamefully in the past. Of course, she’d always defended him in those days. If only she’d known…

  ‘I get you.’ She suspected Mike thought that the airfare had proved prohibitive before this. ‘Well, I’m sure you’re going to have a great time. And any time you need a guide, I want you to know you can count on me.’

  Ally smiled. ‘You’re very kind.’

  ‘Not kind.’ Mike winked. ‘Just taking advantage of the situation. If I know Suze, she’ll have you fixed up with an escort before you know it. I’m staking my claim, that’s all.’

  Ally’s smile thinned a little. She didn’t want Suzanne or anyone else ‘fixing her up with an escort’. She didn’t want an escort. After last night she thought it would be a long time before she allowed any other man to get even half as close to her. God, how had it happened? How could she have been so naïve?

  Her skin prickled with the remembrance of how she’d felt when Raul kissed her. A tingling sensation had begun when his mouth had touched hers and spread throughout her whole body. For a few seconds she’d been unable to move, unable to speak. Unable to do anything, in fact, but absorb the incredulous realisation that he was holding her firmly between his hands and nibbling on her lips.

  She took a deep breath. She should have stopped him; she knew that now, had known it then, only she’d been so shocked by the feelings he had so effortlessly inspired that she’d numbed her mind to any kind of mutiny. She’d wanted him to go on; she’d wanted him to kiss her; she’d wanted him to thrust his caressing tongue into her mouth and take possession of her spinning senses.

  God, she’d been so easy, she agonised bleakly. She’d always despised women who made fools of themselves over younger men, but she was no better. Yet she’d always considered herself beyond such things. Even when Jeff had left her for a much younger woman, she’d felt a certain amount of scorn for what she’d seen as his attempt to recapture his youth. She would never have dreamed that she could be caught in the same trap, would never have believed she could act that way herself.

  So why had she?

  As Mike contacted the airport at San Cristobál to negotiate their approach and landing, Ally struggled to understand what Raul had done to make her forsake the woman she’d thought she was and become some wild creature governed by her needs and her emotions.

  She pressed her lips tightly together. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t known what she was doing. No matter how much easier it would have been for her to blame him for what had happened, she couldn’t do it. She’d gone into his arms eagerly, blindly, seeking a crazy gratification that she’d instinctively known that only he could provide.

  God, what must he have thought of her? When he’d kissed her, when he’d tilted her chin and looked into her eyes, what had he seen? A timid frightened woman who was suddenly at the mercy of her senses, or a sex-starved harlot with no shame and fewer morals?

  She shook her head. Whatever he’d thought, she’d been too bemused to do anything but drown in the sultry heat of his lovemaking. Weak and feeble as the memory was, she’d been trembling with need and emotion, and lost to any will but his.

  She seemed to remember he’d said something about this not being supposed to happen, almost as if everything that had happened up to that point had been preordained. But with his thumb tugging at the corner of her lips, she hadn’t attempted to ask him what he meant and he hadn’t repeated it. His mouth had been too intent on tracing a sensuous path down the curve of her neck while he whispered her name over and over with an almost desperate urgency.

  Perhaps that was why she hadn’t attempted to stop him, she consoled herself. Perhaps the knowledge that this attractive man was apparently as drunk with his emotions as she was with hers had prevented her from drawing back. But that was wishful thinking. She’d have let him do anything at that moment.

  For a second, she felt the quivering in her thighs that she’d felt then, the melting sensation of her bones dissolving, of her legs becoming like jelly beneath her. His hands had caressed her throat, she remembered, sliding beneath the neckline of her dress, exposing the pale skin of her shoulders. For the first time in her life she’d been glad that there was flesh on her bones and that she didn’t have the saltcellar hollows that young women seemed to think was such an essential to beauty today.

  She’d hardly been aware that he’d found the zip at the back of her dress until it slid away to pool in a circle of black silk about her ankles. But the amazing thing was that she hadn’t been embarrassed standing there in little more than her bra and pantyhose while he was still fully clothed.

  But that didn’t stop her from cringing now. God, she must have been drunk—and not just on her emotions. She could think of no other reason why she would have acted so out of character. She was simply not that kind of woman. Until now, she’d lived a perfectly decent life. Having sex with a stranger she’d only met hours before was the stuff of romantic novels; not real life. Yet when he’d touched her, when he’d pulled her against his lean, muscled body and tantalised her with his teasing mouth, she’d felt as if she had no will of her own.

  How had it happened? When his lips had returned to hers with what had felt suspiciously like hunger, why had she wound her arms around his neck and given him back kiss for kiss? Dear Lord, she’d behaved as if she was greedy for his lovemaking, raising herself up on her toes, revelling in the hard strength she could feel between his thighs, fitting her quivering body to his.

  For his part Raul had offered no opposition. On the contrary, for some reason he’d seemed to find her—what? Her inexperience? Her naïvety? Her desperation? She shuddered—exciting. He’d been so different from Jeff, she conceded tensely, taking her with him every step of the way. She couldn’t even pretend that she’d thought of her ex-husband when she was in Raul’s arms. There had been no comparison between Jeff’s solid frame and Raul’s sinuous masculinity; no similarity whatsoever in their approach.

  The truth was Jeff had never made love to her with even half of the skill that Raul had so carelessly exhibited, and even with her eyes closed she could not have mistaken his identity.
She had never experienced such power, such tenderness, such suppressed passion, that had been at once flattering and thrilling. And, oh, so unbelievably good.

  Half afraid that Mike would notice the way she was twisting her hands together in her lap, she turned her head to stare out of the plane’s window. They’d be landing soon, she reminded herself. She had to stop thinking about what had happened last night and start anticipating her arrival. She had weeks ahead of her to relax and do whatever she wanted, and surely now that she’d got Jeff out of her system she was not going to make the mistake of letting one unguarded incident ruin her holiday.

  All the same, images of herself and Raul together refused to be banished. They had done things that she and Jeff had never done, not even when they were first married. But then, he’d seduced her before she was old enough to know better and, with the twins on the way, she’d been pathetically eager to accept his proposal.

  She sighed.

  Nevertheless, nothing could excuse the way she’d behaved last night. She hadn’t gone to bed with Raul because she’d felt some latent desire to prove herself. She’d slept with him because she’d wanted to, because she’d wanted to please him—and that was the saddest thing of all.

  Still caught up in the spell of emotions she’d never felt before, she’d spared little thought for what was right or wrong. When Raul had tossed his jacket aside and torn off his tie, she’d shocked herself by reaching for the buttons of his shirt. She’d been frantic for him to take his clothes off, frantic to touch him, and when she’d spread her palms against his taut midriff, she’d been almost dizzy with longing.

  And Raul hadn’t given her time to have any doubts. His tongue had painted a sensuous path from her jawline to the rising swell of her breasts, drawing her bra away from her burgeoning nipples before suckling on their tender tips. As if compelled, his mouth had returned to hers again and again and there’d been a sensual pleasure in feeling the abrasion of his chest hair against her sensitive skin.

  Somehow, she didn’t altogether remember how it had happened, they’d been on the bed and she’d been helping him kick off his boots and trousers. He’d been wearing black satin boxers, she recalled tremulously, and they hadn’t been able to hide the impressive bulge of his erection.

  She trembled now, remembering it was she who’d peeled his shorts away and exposed his sex to her intoxicated gaze. Intoxicated! Her lips twisted. She’d been intoxicated all right. Intoxicated in more ways than one.

  But had he been intoxicated, too? It had certainly seemed so at the time though she couldn’t help wondering now if he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing. She could still see him caressing her inner thighs, tucking his thumbs into the hem of her briefs and tugging them off.

  After that they’d both seemed to go a little crazy. She stifled a groan. When had she become the sort of woman who opened herself to a man’s lips and his tongue, who let a man seduce her in ways she’d only read about before? Had she really spread her legs and arched against his tormenting caresses, welcomed the thrust of his tongue that had driven her to the very edge of insanity? And had she sighed with satisfaction when he’d sheathed his rampant shaft in the moist heart of her womanhood, wrapped her legs about his waist and urged him to go on?

  She knew she had; knew, too, that she’d been pitifully eager for him to take possession of her, encouraging him with breathless little sounds that even then she’d hardly recognised as issuing from her mouth. She’d been deaf and blind to everything but the things he was doing to her and when her climax had come she remembered he’d silenced her grateful cry with his lips.

  Her tongue circled her teeth. Thank God he’d had the sense to wear protection, she acknowledged unsteadily. If he hadn’t she might have been facing something much worse than losing her self-respect. How convenient that he’d found the contraceptive in his pocket, she thought bitterly, wondering if a man ever suffered the same regrets as a woman. Probably not, she decided wryly. He hadn’t confessed to her that he’d never felt like that before…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE plane banked suddenly and Ally clutched her seat, drawing a sympathetic grin from her companion. ‘Sorry about that,’ he apologised. ‘But we’ll be landing in a couple of minutes and there was no easy way to wake you.’

  Ally stared at him. ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

  ‘No?’ He smirked. ‘Well, you had your eyes closed anyway. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.’

  Ally decided not to argue with him. It was probably better if he thought she’d been dozing rather than reliving one of the most humiliating experiences of her life. ‘Thanks,’ she said, managing a dry tone. ‘I suppose I am tired. I was—up—very early this morning.’

  Only to discover Raul was gone, she recalled unwillingly. Foolishly perhaps, she’d expected him to be there, but she knew now that that had been unrealistic. And yet, after he had spent more than half the night making mad passionate love to her, she had hoped he might have something more to say to her. Even if it was just goodbye.

  But she’d been wrong. He’d evidently made his escape while she was still sleeping and she’d been left with a hollow sense of abandonment. And yet, what had she expected? Everything that needed to be said had been said the night before, and he’d certainly saved them both the embarrassment of making small talk this morning.

  All the same, she couldn’t help wondering where he’d gone. She’d even entertained the idea that he might have been flying home with the same airline she was using, but, although she’d faced that possibility with a certain amount of trepidation, there’d been no sign of him at the departure gate.

  Pushing these thoughts aside, she determinedly turned her attention to her present surroundings. There was a runway below them now, a narrow strip of asphalt with a belt of greenery on one side and a sandy shoreline on the other. A beach the colour of bleached bones sloped towards the blue-green waters that lapped its sands, a lacy edging of foam advancing and receding with the incoming tide.

  Ally was so entranced with the view that she barely noticed the touch-down, only becoming aware that they had landed when Mike applied the air brakes. ‘Welcome to San Cristobál,’ he said, easing the aircraft off the runway and into one of the holding bays. ‘I know you’re going to love being here.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Ally gazed about her with bemused eyes. ‘It’s so beautiful. I can hardly believe I’m here at last.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ said Mike drily, taxi-ing towards a handful of colour-washed buildings with corrugated iron roofs. He nodded towards a group of people gathered around a cream convertible and a pink buggy. ‘Looks like you’ve got a welcoming committee. That’s Suze’s buggy and the coupé belongs to Finisterre. I guess young Ramirez must be expected back today, too.’

  Ally turned to look at him. ‘Finisterre?’ she said, looking puzzled.

  ‘Yeah, Finisterre.’ Mike grinned as he brought the small aircraft to a halt. ‘That’s the name Rodrigo Ramirez gave his estate—oh, it must be over a hundred years ago now. Rodrigo, by all accounts, was a bit of a villain. Didn’t mind turning his hand to anything so long as it made money.’

  Ally’s eyebrows lifted. ‘Smuggling, you mean?’

  ‘Among other things,’ said Mike wryly. ‘Here comes Suze. Let me get the door open.’

  Taking off his headphones, he stood and climbed over the console into the rear of the plane. Releasing her safety belt, Ally did likewise, fanning herself with the empty cola can when a draught of hot air from the opening door engulfed her.

  ‘Ally!’ Suzanne was waiting impatiently at the bottom of the steps that Mike had lowered. ‘Oh, Ally, hurry up and get down here. I want to give you a hug.’

  Ally felt the unaccustomed prick of tears as her friend enfolded her in her arms. At least Suzanne hadn’t changed, she thought gratefully. She was just as warm and exuberant as she remembered, if a little unfamiliar in her sleeveless vest and cotton shorts. And so brown, mused Ally enviously, drawing
back to look at her. Even her dark hair had been striped in shades of gold and copper so that she looked both casual and sophisticated.

  ‘It’s so good to see you again,’ Suzanne added, before Ally could say anything. ‘It must be six years since I was last in England.’

  ‘Seven,’ said Ally, smiling though her tears. ‘Oh, Suzanne, I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Me, too,’ said Suzanne, turning to the young woman who had come to join them. ‘Julia, you remember my friend Ally, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh, sure.’

  Julia smiled a welcome, but she was shading her eyes and watching the horizon as her mother spoke, and Suzanne pulled a face.

  ‘Don’t mind her,’ she said. ‘Her boyfriend’s due back from England today, too. I did tell you Julia was planning on getting married, didn’t I?’

  ‘Well—’

  Ally started to explain that Mike Mclean had mentioned something about it, but Suzanne didn’t wait for an answer, ‘You didn’t meet him, did you? I told him to look out for you at the airport, but I suppose it was unrealistic to expect him to pick you out of the crowd.’

  ‘I—’ Ally shook her head. ‘No, I—I don’t think so.’ But had she? A feeling of apprehension swept over her. ‘What—what’s his name?’

  ‘There it is!’

  Julia’s sudden cry caused everyone to look skyward and Suzanne gave her daughter’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. ‘I knew he wouldn’t be long,’ she said. And then, to Ally, ‘Julia and Carlos—that’s the Ramirezes’ younger son—have been here for over half an hour waiting for the plane. He’s been away for ten days, so, as you can imagine, Julia’s pretty eager to have him back again.’

  ‘Yes?’ Ally swallowed, noticing that Julia gave her mother an impatient look. ‘You didn’t tell me what his name was—’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand with the luggage, shall I?’ Mike, who had unloaded Ally’s bags as she and Suzanne were greeting one another, now intervened. ‘You want them in the buggy, right, Suze?’