She flushed, and took a gulp of water in an attempt to compose herself. ‘I had a cousin who was very dear to me. Angelina loved Spain, and lived in Barcelona for a time. Her letters made me want to come over, revisit my roots, and so on.’ She carefully chose not to mention that Angelina had died of cancer, or that she had been an advocate of alternative medicine, much good it had done her. Too much information would simply put her in greater danger of being found out.
Luckily, Ruy didn’t have time to probe further, as he glanced at his watch, saying: ‘Well, I, for one, am grateful to your cousin and happy you decided to explore your roots. I’m afraid, though, we’ll have to carry on this conversation another time. I have a meeting in a few minutes, I’d better get back.’ He stood up and gulped down the last of his water. ‘I hope you’re intending to take it easy this weekend?’ he added nonchalantly.
Luna hesitated. She could tell that he was fishing to find out her plans and didn’t want to let him know where she was going with Charo that evening in case he suggested joining them.
‘I’m busy all weekend sorting a few things out with the house, but it’s fine,’ she answered vaguely.
‘Well, if you’d like someone to show you around Cádiz at some point, I’d be happy to oblige. There are some wonderful restaurants down by the harbour.’
‘Well, I …’ Luna stumbled over the half-lie she was about to tell. ‘I’m still not quite used to the time difference here so I should try and have a few more early nights.’ She shifted in her chair. ‘Perhaps another time.’
He looked down at her and smiled inscrutably. ‘Another time then. Enjoy your weekend, Luna.’
She watched him walk away, knowing things weren’t getting any easier between them after all.
* * *
Disappointment engulfed Ruy as he left the office that evening. He was not used to being rebuffed and did not accept defeat easily. No other woman had inspired such fierce emotions in him; he couldn’t concentrate properly on anything. All week he’d been careful to play it strictly professional with Luna, even though being close to her drove him crazy. It had challenged his selfcontrol to keep his distance and his frustration was mounting, along with his desire for her.
The two of them were like flint and steel, giving off sparks every time they came near each other. Just looking into her eyes, he could see her struggle: the core of explosive feeling that she tried so hard to contain. Why was she holding back? He was offering himself to her, body and soul. At the end of the day it was his fault. By deserting her at the ball, he had made it look as though he was pushing her away or playing games. What a fool he’d been. No wonder Luna was now wary of him. He should have known better, but somehow he hadn’t.
How could he make her want him as much as he wanted her? How could he gently break down her resistance? He must not rush her, he must play it cool – be patient, let her come to him.
It was all about control with Luna.
At work she was sharp-minded, ordered and thorough. Emotionally, she kept everything reined in. From the outside, her personality seemed mirrored by those ice-cool blonde looks – it was even reflected in her name – but Ruy knew that inside, it was a different story. His mind went back to their dance at El Pavón and the way she had returned his kisses at the summerhouse. It was just a matter of time. She could not keep that passionate nature restrained forever.
The more they spoke, the more he wanted to know about her. At lunch, when he had talked about the Institute’s psychological support techniques, the look Luna had given him wasn’t one of interest or curiosity, it was almost beseeching. A fleeting expression and then it was gone.
He clenched his fists, wondering about the man who had hurt her. Whoever he was, and whatever had happened, those barricades with which she had fortified herself, against Ruy, were caused by some painful experience. For now, it was another enigma about Luna that drew him to her.
Likewise, there was something about her mode of questioning when they spoke about work. Something not quite right about her professional neutrality; something he couldn’t put his finger on …
As Ruy went across to the car park, he saw Vaina coming out of the main building. Reluctantly, he shelved his thoughts and braced himself for a conversation for which he was in no mood.
Vaina waved at him and quickened her step. He noticed that she had changed from her day clothes and looked glamorous in a shimmering black dress. It was a well known fact that all her clothes were unique, designed especially for her. She was undeniably chic, sophisticated and worldly. His usual type, in fact.
Why am I not chasing her instead? Life would be so much simpler, he thought to himself.
His parents would be delighted – his father had been friends with Francisco Jiménez Rivera since their school days. Vaina was beautiful, bright and rich. They had not only friends in common but also the Institute itself, of which Francisco was chairman and a patron too. If he wanted someone beautiful and sophisticated, why not her?
Ruy knew the answer perfectly well. He had tried that avenue a number of times but it had led nowhere: there was no chemistry. Vaina failed to stir him enough, physically or mentally. She was too perfect – a beautiful statue, like the ones his grandfather, Eduardo de Salazar, sculpted. Vaina could be fun but, whenever they had dated, they had quarrelled nonstop. Not because they stimulated each other, but because their characters were incompatible. She was jealous and possessive and Ruy needed space; she suffocated him. He had been honest with her – told her it would never work – but she refused to give up. Certainly he admired her persistence though soon he would have to find the opportunity once and for all to make things crystal clear without hurting her feelings. They had to work together, after all.
She caught up with him and flashed a perfect lipstick smile. ‘Ruy, are you going to the opening of Ignacio Vargas’s exhibition?’
‘No, I’d completely forgotten about it.’
She fluttered her long black lashes at him. ‘I’ve got two invitations. It’s the hottest ticket in town. You’re not going to let me go on my own, are you?’ she purred, and gave a muchpractised pout.
It was neither the lashes nor the pout that coaxed him into accepting her invitation. The fact was he had nothing better to do that night, so why not? He had longed to ask Luna to dinner, but as usual she had given him clear signals that such an invitation would not be welcome.
He smiled. ‘Sounds like a good idea. I like Vargas’s work. I’ve no plans tonight.’
Vaina beamed, clearly delighted. ‘We can go out for dinner afterwards,’ she added quickly, pushing her advantage. ‘We haven’t spoken much since your conference in Barcelona. I’d love to know how it went.’
Ruy paused and then nodded. ‘There isn’t much to say.’ He was being unnecessarily curt, he knew, but all of a sudden he was feeling hemmed in. The plan had been to discourage her attentions, so how had he been roped into dinner with her? He’d already admitted to being free, so he couldn’t see a way out of it now. He supposed he should use the opportunity to have a quiet word with Vaina, but he wasn’t sure he had the heart for it that night. Oh well, there were bound to be people he knew at the gallery and it wouldn’t be too difficult to snag some others to join them. The prospect of dining with a group felt better than that of sitting for hours across a candlelit table, with Vaina making eyes at him.
‘I’ll need to pass by the house to change,’ he added. ‘I suspect all Cádiz and a great deal of people from Seville and Jerez will be there tonight. Shall I meet you there or would you prefer me to pick you up in an hour?’
‘I need to be at the exhibition a little earlier,’ said Vaina. ‘One of the organizers is a close friend of Papá’s, so I’ve promised to help hand out catalogues.’
‘Fine. I’ll meet you there at eight o’clock.’
Chapter 8
Luna watched the buildings pass by as the taxi made its way through the streets of Cádiz, en route to the first night of Ignacio Vargas�
��s exhibition. Hailed by critics as the next Pablo Picasso, the young contemporary painter of figurative art had been discovered fewer than five years back, and his paintings were already selling for astronomical prices. When Charo had told her about Vargas, Luna’s interest had been piqued. In New York, one of her favourite ways to relax was by visiting art galleries and tonight, after hours poring over files at the Institute, she hoped she’d have a good time.
Luna had hurried home from work and, after a quick snack, put her mind to what she might wear. She chose a playful, floral mini dress in mocha, silk-blend chiffon. It had a light-as-air pleat detail, and a plunging V neck and back. The whip-thin belt encircling her slender waist, together with nude stiletto sandals, enhanced the willowy elegance of her figure. Stacked gold bracelets adorned her wrist and a pair of delicate, filigree leaf drop earrings in twenty-four-carat gold gave a bohemian, artisanal accent to her outfit. She let her hair fall long and loose around her shoulders, applied sheer lip gloss and mascara, and was ready just as her taxi arrived.
Now, Luna looked out of the taxi window at the narrow lanes and wide squares illuminated by ornate, bulbous streetlamps. Buskers strummed flamenco songs on their guitars from street corners, while the tables outside the brightly lit restaurants were already filling up with tourists and locals out for an early drink and tapas. The night was only beginning and Cádiz was glowing with life. Luna watched it all pensively from the cocoon of the taxi, her thoughts floating back to Ruy.
She could tell that he had been trying to behave himself all week, and yet today the air had once more become charged between them, like an irrepressible force that had gathered for days and now couldn’t help but show itself. Despite her efforts to push them down, the feelings he engendered in her had only intensified.
Luna had not known him for long yet she admitted to herself with a wave of misery that, underneath her panic, she still wanted him. No other man had challenged her as Ruy did. She also had no doubt that if she did surrender to him, he would then drop her like a stone.
Anyhow, his courting had been hasty and clumsy, and now he had justly paid the price. He had tried to storm her heart instead of laying siege to it. If he wanted to win her trust, there was still a long way to go.
The taxi drew to a halt, jolting Luna from her thoughts. She paid the driver and found herself on the pavement of a quiet square, with only a few street cafés on its cobbled side streets. The exhibition was taking place in a most curious and interesting twelfth-century church, hidden from the world in this small, inconspicuous corner of Cádiz’s old town.
Luna passed through a pointed arch into an open courtyard, with balconies and windows bearing down on every side, and through the most beautiful wooden ecclesiastical doorway into a wonderful relic of the past. It was a long rectangular room with a Moorish nave and intricately worked horseshoed arches, supported by octagonal columns and topped with pine-cone capitals of worn stone. Lattice-paned windows overlooked a small, deserted enclosure.
Charmed beyond words, Luna stood at the entrance of the ancient building, transported to the days of the Moors. On every whitewashed wall hung Ignacio Vargas’s work: reclining and dancing figures rendered in abstract, their complex splashes of colour and geometric forms creating a strangely romantic and anachronistic contrast to the surroundings.
The church was packed, the atmosphere heavy with the cloying scents of musty hymn books, incense and ancient wood, mixed with a lingering aroma of roses and white jasmine that cascaded from stone urns all along the walls. Overlaying the antique musk was the fragrance of expensive scents and aftershave from the mingling throng, whose chattering was like the buzz of a swarm of bees. Women were dressed in formal, exquisite clothes, some long but mostly short, and they wore sparkling jewellery. The men were all in tuxedos. Waiters circulated with trays of champagne and sangria, while waitresses carried large serving platters of appetizing tapas.
Luna spotted Vaina immediately, glamorous and glittering: her fingers, no less than her gown, sparkling with jewels. There were clips in her rich dark hair and diamonds dangling from her ears. She wondered if Ruy had given her those.
Her mind skidded to a halt. If Vaina is here, will he be here too?
Before she had completed the thought, her pulse leapt madly as Ruy appeared at the door. Her heart sank as he made his way towards Vaina. She watched him put a hand casually on the brunette’s bare shoulder, his dark head bent towards hers to catch what she was saying. There was something intimate in the gesture, and Luna felt a hollowness in her gut. She knew that this jealousy was illogical since she had repeatedly kept him at arm’s length. Still, she was puzzled by the growing tangle of her emotions. A few weeks earlier such extremes of feeling did not exist for her. Now she was in the midst of an upheaval that was threatening the ordered safety of her world.
Ruy’s eyes turned slowly towards her. The message she read in them told her he had been aware of her staring. Luna felt pinned to the spot by his intense blue gaze. A smile played on his lips, and she turned away self-consciously.
Oh, Luna, why did you have to give yourself away so obviously? she thought angrily.
Flustered, she looked around for a waiter.
‘Here, Luna, you look like you need one of these,’ came a voice behind her.
Luna gave a sigh of relief when she turned to see Charo, who was holding two flutes of champagne.
‘Charo, I could kiss you,’ said Luna, gratefully accepting a glass.
‘By all means,’ said Charo, obliging her with a kiss on both cheeks. ‘I was wondering when you’d arrive. I’m glad I didn’t have to go back to the office to march you down here. You look wonderful, by the way.’
Luna laughed. ‘Thank you. Wonderful but clearly looking as if I’m in need of a drink. And you’d be right!’
‘We all need to take time to relax. The clinic can be pretty intense at times.’
Luna raised her glass. ‘Well, here I am and it’s very impressive, I must say. The paintings look wonderful, though I’ve not had a chance to look at them properly yet.’
‘They’re fabulous, but it’s not just the art that’s eye-catching …’ Charo looked around the room appraisingly and leaned in. ‘There are some very attractive men here. Don’t you think it’s rather fun to combine culture with a little flirtation?’ She batted her eyelashes comically and giggled. ‘Nothing serious, of course. Well, not for me. Ai, mi madre, Miguel would have a fit if he were here. He’s picking me up later so you can meet him.’
Luna laughed. ‘I’d like that.’
Charo’s vivacious chattering was a breath of fresh air and she did find herself relaxing as she sipped her champagne, letting the chilled bubbles cool her dry throat. Every now and again she couldn’t help glancing over to Ruy, though. His sensual lips were caught in laughter at something another guest was saying to him and Vaina. From what she could see of him through the crowd, he looked breathtaking in his tuxedo, his broad shoulders filling out the suit in a sinfully masculine way. She remembered the solid heat of them under her hands when he had kissed her in the summerhouse.
Luna blinked the memory away and turned back to Charo, who was grinning at her.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t get the chance to flirt with many men this evening.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean there’s one man in particular in this room who’ll be watching you, and may not be happy seeing you charmed by anyone else.’ She smiled over the rim of her glass and followed Luna’s line of vision conspicuously across to Ruy.
Luna shot her a pointed look. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t you?’ Charo laughed. ‘Come on, Luna. Are you saying you haven’t noticed the sizzling chemistry between the two of you?’
‘I’m sure the good doctor is rather adept at creating chemistry between himself and many women.’
‘It’s true, he has a noticeable effect on most women.’ Charo’s eyes became expre
ssively mischievous. ‘Look at The Virago, for instance. She’s normally so spiky with us, but look at her now. All over him like a rash!’
Luna did not want to look at Vaina at all, but her eyes followed Charo’s playful nod to see Ruy’s companion throw back her head and laugh: mahogany curls, white teeth, lip gloss and diamonds all glittering in the light of the overhead halogens. As Vaina recovered from whatever little joke she was clearly sharing with Ruy, she put a hand on his forearm in an intimate gesture.
No, Luna absolutely did not want to look.
A waiter passed by, offering canapés. Both women accepted some chorizo from the tray.
‘Mmm, these are delicious,’ Charo enthused. She paused and glanced at Luna. ‘I think you’re a little hard on Ruy. I’ve got to know him quite well and, as far as I can see, it’s women who throw themselves at him, not the other way round. Particularly Doña Vaina, of course. That woman needs to have a little pride and give up.’
Luna raised a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘You mean he’s really not interested? Perhaps they’ve just got one of those tempestuous relationships.’
‘Well, yes, but that’s mainly on her side. Ruy merely tolerates her melodramatic outbursts and somehow manages to remain outside her grasp. They do work together so I suppose it’s not easy, but I’ve told him he’s just too nice and should cut her loose once and for all.’
‘You’ve discussed it with him?’
‘Of course.’ Charo shrugged matter-of-factly at Luna’s look of surprise. ‘If I like someone, then I can’t help but wheedle interesting things out of them.’ Her face broke into a broad grin. ‘At first they resist, but eventually they give in and we become friends.’
‘Yes, I can see how that might happen,’ said Luna with a wry smile.
Charo grinned. ‘He always jokes that I’m the annoying little sister he never had. Though he’s more inscrutable than most, I must say.’
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