Morena blinked as if shaking something off, then rummaged in her pocket. ‘Do not despair,’ she said, taking Luna’s hand and slipping into it what felt like a warm smooth pebble. ‘This charm will guard you from the evil spirits. It will induce calm and peace within your troubled heart. It has mystic powers, but must stay buried in your heart. Wear it against your breast, but never tell anybody of its origin. No permanent harm will come to you as long as this magic jewel is with you.’
Luna smiled awkwardly, noting this was the second time that the gypsy had warned her, but she refused to dwell on the thought. ‘Thank you, Morena, I will take good care of it,’ she promised. She did not really believe in this hocus-pocus nonsense, she told herself, but she was sensitive to the gypsy’s kindness and hospitality. After all, she had been included in a family celebration without any reticence or prejudice. In return, why not give the benefit of the doubt to these people?
They embraced and Morena moved away just as Ruy, having freed himself from his effusive fans, walked towards them.
‘I didn’t know you had friends among the gypsies.’
‘Morena sold me the Moon Queen costume.’
‘Ah yes, at Mascaradas,’ he said, the glimmer of a memory lighting his eyes. ‘She’s engaged to Chico, you know. I’ll introduce you properly to him after the dancing has finished. He’s not the growling giant he seems, I promise.’
They paused to watch as the music started up again and dancing couples began to twirl once more in a flurry of clapping and singing.
Ruy nodded towards them. ‘One thing about gypsies, they know how to celebrate. Have you enjoyed your evening?’ he asked courteously.
‘Very much. I think people were a little suspicious of me at first but Morena was very kind.’
‘You know what they say about gypsies? They make wonderful friends and formidable enemies.’
Luna said nothing, although for an instant her mind flicked to the memory of Chico’s glowering face.
‘Have you ever tried it before?’ Ruy smiled at her quizzically.
She gave him a blank look. ‘Tried what?’
‘Dancing flamenco.’
Luna let out a nervous laugh. ‘Sadly, no, but it’s fascinating to watch. I can’t boast any experience of that side of my Spanish heritage.’
‘We’ll have to remedy that then,’ Ruy murmured.
She looked suddenly taken aback. ‘I would have to drink quite a bit of sangria for that ever to happen, and even then, your feet wouldn’t be safe from my lack of rhythm.’
He looked at her through a wayward lock of dark hair. ‘I think you have very good rhythm, Luna.’
She swallowed lightly at the look in his eye.
‘Come, Luna, let’s dance.’
‘What now? I’ve never danced flamenco before. Please, Ruy, I can’t. Not in front of all these people!’ Luna protested.
His hand was outstretched and she paused a moment, meeting his spirited gaze.
‘I promise you can even step on my toes if you want to.’
She reluctantly took his hand and Ruy pulled her with him in one swift movement to where the gypsies were standing in a loose circle, in the middle of which dancers spun around each other. The velvet canopy of night hung above them, but all around was the orange haze of firelight and braziers. Spicy smells of woodsmoke, tobacco and grilled chorizo wafted in the air, borne by the faintest of warm breezes now that the heavy heat of the day had eased. Two guitarists were now strumming fast chord progressions alongside the percussive beat of tambourines, and the syncopated rhythm of hand clapping and fingers snapping. There were various couples, young and old, all stalking and twirling around each other with abandon, hands weaving above their heads. The tassels on the women’s shoulders and bodices flew around in colourful arcs as their dresses shimmered in the firelight. Dancers held on to each other and turned this way and that to the loud chorus of voices wailing in unison around them, goading them on with whoops and cries of ‘Olé!’
As she watched the vivid spectacle, Luna could feel the enticing beat of the music seeping into her, despite her reluctance to join in. This was better than any live show of flamenco she had seen back home in California. She sensed Ruy standing close behind her.
‘Shall we?’ he murmured.
Her stomach gave a little jump and she spoke without turning round. ‘I’m not sure if I can do this. I need to see how to count out the steps first.’
The smile was audible in his voice. ‘You don’t need to count anything, Luna. My father taught my mother to dance flamenco. I will do the same for you. Just relax and trust me.’
Luna almost laughed. Wasn’t she always trying to do that?
His breath was warm in her ear and he stood so close to her that she almost leaned into him though, for some reason, it was hard to look at his face.
Ruy placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her round towards him, forcing her to meet his eyes. ‘Don’t be nervous with me, Luna.’ His gaze was as tangible as the heat from the fire. ‘Open your heart and let out your passion. This is Spain, these are your people. Just let go.’ The music pulsated around them as he lifted her hand and gently closed her delicate fingers into a fist, wrapping his own, strong and dexterous, gently around it. His eyes were like liquid blue fire as he held her clenched hand between her breasts. ‘Feel it here.’
Luna’s heart was thumping so hard beneath his fingers she thought it would burst. Ruy led her into the throng of dancers and immediately sent her into a spin with just a flick of his wrist. She had no time to think; she could only react, following his lead. For a moment she almost collided with his broad chest, but his steadying hand caught her effortlessly at the waist and held her tight.
‘Just follow where I take you,’ he murmured, lifting one arm into the air, his mouth just inches from hers.
He moved around her in a circle while his hand held her waist, his other arm bent behind his back, then turned her in a figure of eight. She was painfully aware of his lithe, muscular frame as it brushed against her. He stepped back, spreading his arms wide and high, then bringing his hands down to his waist. Then he nodded at her to do the same and she obeyed, echoing his gestures, transfixed by the electricity between them.
Luna found that she had remembered some of the movements she had seen the other women make, and started to move instinctively, gyrating her hips gently and raising her arms more expressively than before. Ruy’s eyes widened in appreciation, his gaze sliding fervently down her body, and Luna found herself basking in the hunger she could feel emanating from him. All embarrassment melted away and a liberating wave of emotion carried her higher and higher as the music and clapping crescendoed.
Ruy now moved one foot in front of the other, proudly stamping out the steps with the heel of his boots, each arm coming down to his waist as he moved, one jet-black lock of hair falling moodily in front of his brow as he did so. He was pure gypsy, Luna thought. It was the most sexual, mesmerizing thing she had ever seen.
Ruy took both her arms now, lifting them above her head and holding them in place as he let his hands glide down the sides of her body. Luna’s breath caught in her throat and heat fired in her core. For a moment her eyelids fluttered closed as her head tipped back. She was in Ruy’s arms again, as she had been at the masked ball, and nothing felt more natural. His masculine power overwhelmed her.
While they danced, Ruy’s eyes never left her face, often sliding down to her mouth and remaining there while his hand held her waist, his body moving against hers to the insistent rhythm of the music. His gaze was intoxicating, searing her like blue lightning and her head span with the delicious pleasure of it. There was nothing but the music and the fierce longing she saw in his eyes and the heat of their desire.
As the music came to a triumphant conclusion, Ruy sent Luna into one last spin and then drew her against his muscled body, crushing her breasts to him. Her breathing was laboured against his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly in tan
dem with hers. His eyes left her mouth and, without speaking, they were locked in an intense gaze as if all the words of passion and emotion they had for one another were struggling to express themselves in that moment and could not.
Luna tried to steady her deep, trembling breath. She brought herself to her senses, and pushed gently at Ruy’s chest, taking a step back from him, though in helpless thrall to those riveting blue eyes. Exhilarated and disorientated by the wash of fire still sweeping her body after their dance, her mind was stupefied.
Ruy led her to a log that had been fashioned into a rudimentary bench. They sat a moment in silence, each recovering from the dance. It took a while for Luna’s heart to slow its thunderous beating; her emotions were in such disarray.
Finally she managed to speak. ‘Thank you for the dance,’ she whispered, letting the polite words cover the confusion mixed with naked longing that was still assailing her.
Just then, Morena and Chico emerged from the onlookers, arms around one another. Chico looked altogether softer, no longer the boorish ogre of before. When he spoke to Luna now, his voice was warm, if a little slurred. ‘You two dance as if you were made for each other,’ he said. ‘There’s no Herrera can dance like that, I’m certain. You must be a changeling after all.’
Luna blanched at the mention of her family. Ruy was quick to intervene.
‘No talk of Herreras,’ he said, leaning over to cuff his friend, before turning to Luna, his eyes glittering softly. ‘Let me get us some water. You stay here and get to know my blood brother.’
‘You know, Luna,’ said Chico when Ruy had walked off, arm in arm with Morena, ‘I owe you an apology.’ He sat down heavily beside her with a gourd of wine and his great craggy face was a picture of regret, enhanced no doubt by the quantity of alcohol he’d imbibed.
‘You don’t have to say that,’ said Luna, flushing slightly.
‘Thing is, I thought you’d be just another of those no-good Herreras,’ he said. ‘And that was wrong of me, muy equivocada. When Ruy told me who you were, I thought you might be mala suerte, bad luck for him. We have a saying: the seed never falls far from the tree – but that’s rubbish. We can all escape the cards we’re dealt at birth.’
‘You were just trying to protect your friend,’ said Luna. ‘That’s only natural. He’s a lucky man to have you looking out for him.’
‘No, it’s me who should be grateful. I know Ruy would risk his life for me without a second thought. That’s the kind of man he is,’ Chico replied fervently. ‘That’s what it is to be blood brothers.’
Luna was instantly curious. ‘I heard Morena and Ruy both call you that. What does it mean exactly?’
‘He hasn’t told you? It happened when I was sixteen, Ruy was ten.’ Chico took a gulp of wine from the gourd and settled into his story. ‘I used to do some work for his family at El Pavón, a bit of this and that, mostly in the gardens. Anyway, one day he saw me pinch his mother’s Cartier watch. She’d left it by the swimming pool.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘It was a stupid dare from one of the other kids at the camp, who was jealous I’d got the job. Next thing I knew, Ruy was riding his bike like a crazy devil into our camp. He told me the police had come, that his mother had said I’d been the only person in the garden that morning.’
‘What happened next?’
‘He said I’d better give him the watch as the police would come searching. Then he took it and rode off. I found out later that he’d taken it back to his house and put it in the cupboard under the sink in his parents’ bathroom.’
‘And the blood brothers’ thing?’ asked Luna.
‘After that I went looking for Ruy. I needed to show my thanks. He saved me from screwing up my life. I found him in his garden and we performed the rite. It’s a time-honoured ritual that us gitanos would defend with our lives. I cut both our palms with my navaja, my knife, then pressed them together to let the blood mix.’
At this Luna just managed to stop herself from mentioning that they could have caught hepatitis or any number of infections. In her mind’s eye she could imagine Ruy intuiting her thoughts with his customary knack, and regarding her with his gently mocking twinkle.
Once on the subject of Ruy there was no stopping Chico. ‘Ruy may be only a quarter gitano but he’s as much a gypsy as any of us, pueden pulgas comer mis ojos, and may fleas eat my eyes if I’m wrong. As a kid he was like a sponge, absorbing our ways, all our lore. Every spare moment he had, he’d be tearing off to our camp. Exploring the sea caves.’ He gave a booming laugh. ‘That boy never did care what the gajo world thought of him.’
‘I can see that,’ said Luna reflectively. ‘Otherwise he wouldn’t have chosen to pursue his line of work.’
‘That’s right.’ Chico gave a hiccup and tapped his chest with a massive fist. ‘He’s always followed his star. When I was a youngster I just wanted to have a laugh, bit of work here and there … partying whenever it suited me. Ruy’s not like that. He wanted to make a difference, see.’
‘Yes, I suppose I do.’ And she did, she realized. Ruy, whom she had found so devilish at times, was still a man full of compassion, loyalty and integrity. A man who was laying siege to her heart, though if she allowed herself to fall in love with him she could well regret it bitterly.
‘I hope Chico hasn’t been divulging all my secrets,’ came a deep voice behind them. Ruy was back. ‘He’s got a loose tongue when he’s had a bit of manzanilla.’ He grinned at Luna, who took the glass of water he offered her and drank it straight down gratefully.
Chico rested the gourd clumsily on his knee, peering up at his friend. ‘Hermanito, you know what they say. Para todo mal, manzanilla, para toda bien, tambien. For every ill, drink manzanilla. For everything good, as well. Salut!’
Luna stood up. ‘I really think we should be going,’ she said.
‘Come on, my friends,’ said Chico, pulling his great weight off the bench. ‘The night is still young! There’s plenty left in the barrel. Stay and see the sun rise. It’s not every day a babe’s head is wetted.’
Luna was grateful that Ruy didn’t join his friend in insisting she stay. Instead he agreed that it was time to leave, and was smilingly firm with Chico, who staggered to his feet and raised his gourd to them both. ‘All right then. In that case, I’m going to see what Morena is up to. I want a dance with my woman.’
As Chico bade them farewell and went back to join the revellers, Ruy crossed his arms. ‘Did Chico give you a hard time about being a Herrera?’ he asked, the casualness of his tone belied by the slight shifting of his weight from one foot to the other.
‘He apologized, actually,’ said Luna. ‘In not so many words, he said I wasn’t, as far as he could tell, a chip off the old block.’
‘He didn’t say anything else?’ There was still a tautness about Ruy, Luna could sense it. What was it that he was hiding? Something that Chico was aware of, evidently. Once more, disquiet curled its tendrils around her heart, squeezing it uncomfortably.
‘Nothing you should be worried about.’ Luna gave a short laugh that was somewhat forced, uneasy. ‘Look, I realize my being a Herrera must be difficult for you. Maybe your family’s not best pleased … but you must know that my mother was nothing to me, and I was nothing to her. I don’t like a single one of the Herreras, and that’s that.’
A look of surprise, relief even, crossed Ruy’s face. ‘Luna, is that what you’re dwelling on? Listen, I don’t care who your family is.’ His gaze was intense. ‘You mustn’t think we’re judging you in any way. For God’s sake, we’re hardly ones to talk. There’s never been a lack of feuding in our family. My grandmother, Marujita, the gypsy queen, fought tooth and nail to bring down Salvador and Luz. I’ve got the blood of bitter rivals coursing through my veins already.’
It was the first time that the subject of her family had been raised, and Luna felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled, relieved. ‘You don’t mind that I’m half Herrera then?’
; ‘Luna, I wouldn’t mind if you were half Martian.’ He gave her a raffish grin, then suddenly changed the subject. ‘Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?’ he asked.
Luna frowned. ‘No, why?’
They were walking now towards a low shed at the far end of the camp. ‘Well, you’re about to have your first ride.’ He held open the rickety door for her as they stepped inside, and there it was: the latest model of a Ducati GT 1000 SportClassic in flaming red. Appalled, Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief.
‘Even though it’s quite powerful, it handles confidently. You’ll find it exciting to ride.’
She gave a little cry of alarm. ‘I could never get on one of those things. Anyhow, I’m wearing a skirt.’
‘Don’t say “Fountain, I’ll never drink from your water.” It may be your only resort to quench your thirst.’ His eyes moved over her in mischievous appreciation, his teeth flashing white as he grinned at her. ‘Your skirt is short enough, you’ll be able to straddle the bike without needing to lift it an inch.’
Colour flooded her face. ‘Are you always this irritating?’
‘And are you always this negative? Here, put on this helmet.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’ve got mine. This is a spare. I always keep an extra one just in case. You never know what might crop up … like tonight, for instance.’
Oh yes, she was convinced that he found countless occasions for women to wrap themselves around him. Wrap themselves around him? Was that what she was going to have to do?
Luna stiffened and drew away from Ruy as he tried to help her with the helmet. ‘I’m quite capable of doing this for myself,’ she said quickly. She liked feeling in control, and being on the back of someone’s motorbike represented the complete opposite. Then, just as suddenly, she was contrite, hating her snappish tone. ‘Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.’
Legacy Page 32
