‘Now, just relax,’ he said, with a flicker of a smile, ‘and let Dr Calderón examine you.’ The familiar faint aroma of him made her shiver as he bent forward to study the cuts and bruises on her arms and legs, the scratches on her face and neck. ‘You have a few cuts. Nothing major, you’ll be glad to hear.’ He carefully felt her left ankle. ‘It’s a little swollen. Just a mild sprain, thankfully. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.’
Luna pulled away from his touch, managing a taut response. ‘Yes, I’m fine, really. Just tired.’ She drew her legs up and leaned back against the pillow, turning her face to the wall. ‘You can go now.’
There was a moment of silence. ‘Look, Luna,’ he said gently, carrying a chair to her bedside and sitting down. ‘I know you’ve had a scare, but you can trust me. You know you can.’
Trust him? How could she trust a man who played his women as skilfully as he played his guitar?
‘Give me a chance to take care of you, Luna. I want to look after you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted … to make you happy.’
Luna closed her eyes. She could imagine the poignant look on Ruy’s face, the longing in his eyes. A sour taste surged in her throat. She turned to face him, eyes flashing. ‘Make me happy? Please me, as you would a whore?’ she cried out impulsively before she could stop herself.
His eyes clouded as he stared back at her. ‘Is that how you see our relationship?’ The concern painted on his features was the very picture of sincerity, moving something deep inside her, but she wasn’t about to give way to it.
She fought for self-control and her expression hardened. ‘Don’t give me that act, Ruy. You should have received your doctorate in theatre studies – oh, and womanizing. That too.’
His look changed to a puzzled frown. ‘Are we really back to all that again, Luna? What on earth are you talking about?’
However Luna couldn’t see beyond her own angry contempt now. ‘I mean, all this time you’ve been carrying on with Sabrina, that gypsy harlot you spend your spare time “nurturing”. The one you were serenading tonight in your little love nest.’
Ruy paled, his blue eyes now a steely grey. ‘What do you know about Sabrina that you can judge her? She’s anything but a harlot, and I won’t have you say that about her.’ he declared.
Her jaw set stubbornly. ‘I’ve got eyes! I saw the way you ran off after her at the ball and I watched you singing to her while she cavorted about almost naked tonight. For goodness sake, what do you take me for?’ she retorted hotly.
Ruy leaned forward in his chair and braced both elbows on his knees. When he spoke next, his words were careful, measured. Luna could tell from his eyes that he had softened, the way they had changed colour again as he fixed her with a steady look.
‘Sabrina has never been with a man, so let’s get that part straight. She’s a free spirit, a girl from the wild. She lives alone in the hills and is known among the gypsies as La Selvage, the wild child. What you saw tonight was just one of her ways of communing with nature. I’m not in love with her and when she has met the man to whom she is destined, she’ll grow out of any infatuation for – or reliance on – me. She’s only eighteen, virtually a child, and tomorrow, when you’re not so upset and overwrought, I’ll tell you her story. Then you’ll understand why I nurture her, as you so rightly say.’
Luna listened in confused silence. Now she spoke up, in a quiet whisper this time, which had a little catch in it. ‘Your voice was so full of emotion when you sang to her.’
‘What makes you think the words … the feelings … were for her? Do you have a gift of divination, can you read other people’s minds?’
‘I had the impression your song was about an impossible love. A man’s passion for a young gypsy girl, a man who should know better, it seemed exactly to fit the bill. An unstoppable, inappropriate hidden love.’
The intensity in Ruy’s gaze remained but it had transformed into something new and there was a fire that blazed in its blue depths. ‘Ah, woman of little faith, couldn’t I have been singing about someone I fell in love with the moment I set eyes on her in a little nightclub in Barcelona? A woman I’ve been chasing ever since because I know we are fated to be with each other? A woman who haunts my days and nights … whom I love more than life itself? Ah, Luna, how much more do you want me to beg … and for how long?’ he asked, his voice thick with emotion, deep and intoxicating, more potent than wine.
A mixture of joy and disbelief surged in Luna for the briefest snap of a finger before it was smothered. She half turned so he wouldn’t notice the quiver of her mouth, unconsciously pressing a nervous hand to her throat. She would be a fool to believe him. Tears were welling in her eyes and she was trying hard to keep them from falling.
‘Let’s leave this conversation for when you’re feeling better, but please let me take care of you tonight. You’ve had a nasty shock,’ Ruy said quietly, standing up. ‘I’m not leaving you on your own. Anyhow, I need to bathe and dress those cuts.’
Luna nodded wordlessly in consent. Though exhausted and bewildered, she was glad he was there: grateful for his strength, his reassuring presence.
He pushed back his damp ebony hair that was flopping down on to his forehead.
‘Do you mind?’ he asked, starting to unbutton his wet shirt.
Luna’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘What are you doing?’
His smooth lips quirked, mischievous devils dancing in the leaping blue flames of his eyes. ‘I’m not about to ravish you, if that’s what concerns you.’ She was too tired to think of a clever retort, and he went on without waiting for her answer. ‘It’s soaking wet and I won’t be much of a help to you if I catch pneumonia.’
Luna swallowed hard; she could hardly refuse. ‘Yes, that’s fine. There’s a hot rail in the bathroom if you’d like to dry it off there.’
He grinned, the little devils still watching her intently. ‘Thank you, señorita, that’s most magnanimous of you,’ he said, easing the shirt off his broad shoulders and down his strong arms, biceps flexing as he did so.
Luna’s eyes fastened on his muscled chest and the silky jetblack pelt that arrowed so provocatively down to his navel. The maleness of him was primitively beautiful. He was magnificent. Despite herself, her eyes darted to where his hand was poised on the belt-buckle over his jeans. His gaze flicked up; caught her watching. He smiled, a little embarrassed, but only slightly. ‘I can’t help that,’ he murmured tautly. ‘That’s what you do to me.’ He looked at her calmly. ‘But I promise you, Luna, I know how to control myself.’
He pulled off his belt and hung it over the chair. ‘I’ll run you a bath,’ he said, heading for the bathroom with his wet shirt. ‘There’s nothing better to soothe aching limbs and relax the nerves.’
A few minutes later, he returned to find Luna easing herself off the bed with a wince. ‘What is it? Does that hurt?’ he asked, coming to stand over her.
‘Just a twinge,’ she said, sitting on the side of the bed and giving her lower back a rub.
‘You must have pulled a muscle climbing those wretched hills, you silly girl,’ he growled.
‘I had no difficulty climbing, I assure you. I regularly run six miles,’ she shot back, miffed that he might think her unfit or wishy-washy. ‘If you must know, I stumbled in the dark and fell. I’ll be fine tomorrow.’
‘Let me help you to the bathroom.’
‘I’ll manage, thank you.’
He stood a few feet away from her, watching her doubtfully.
Luna gave a gasp of pain as she tried to stand up, before collapsing back on to the bed again.
‘Now will you let me?’ he queried sardonically. ‘Unless, of course, you want to be doing this sort of exercise all night. In the meantime, your bath is getting cold.’
She met his quiet gaze. Emotionally drained, she gave the barest nod.
It seemed he’d had the last word again.
Chapter 12
Ruy returned to the bathroom to add more hot wat
er to the bath.
‘I’m afraid I used all the towels to cover your bed. Do you have any spare? I couldn’t see a bathrobe anywhere.’
‘It’s in the wash. Towels are in the top of the wardrobe.’ Ruy seemed so at ease in her house, Luna thought, as she watched him move about with an efficiency she had to admire. He was organized and systematic, unlike most of her friends’ husbands or boyfriends.
He took the towels to the bathroom and came back to the bed, using a small one to dry his still-wet hair. She watched his biceps flex as he vigorously dried his thick dark locks before throwing the towel on to the chair. He bent over Luna to say something, his face so near that she thought he wanted to kiss her. Instinctively she drew back, shrinking away from him.
His eyes when she met them were unfathomable. ‘Luna, déjate llevar, let yourself go. Forget it’s me, the man who loves you, and leave it all to the doctor.’ His voice was warm, tender and loving but that only increased her fear of him – and more precisely, the fear of her own feelings. His earlier declaration had destabilized her. She didn’t know what to think any more, but she really didn’t like being reliant on this man, doctor or not.
‘First, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.’
‘There’s really no need for you to help me. Please go away and let me cope on my own. I’ve been doing it for twenty-five years and I’m very good at it.’
‘Oh, I can see that,’ he responded to her forceful assertion, fighting to keep a straight face.
Luna’s amber eyes blazed up at him in annoyance at this obvious sarcasm, though she said nothing.
‘Luna, be reasonable. You’re hurt. I haven’t examined you properly yet so I can’t assess the extent of the damage. There’s no point in being childish about this. For the moment you need to do what I say. I’m a trained doctor, for goodness sake.’
There was a tinge of exasperation in his tone and Luna finally capitulated.
Ruy had his faults, but deep down he was a gentleman and he was proud. He would never take advantage of her in this state, she knew.
He sat opposite her on the bed. Luna tried to lift her arms to take off the dress that clung to her wet body, but dropped them with a yelp of pain. ‘I can’t do it!’ Her eyes filled with tears of frustration.
Silently he reached out, slipping his hands under the dress and brought it up her thighs, then carefully slid it out from underneath her bottom. Luna held her breath while his hands went to the buttons at the front of her dress, and silently she watched his long dexterous fingers at work, her senses captive to his touch.
Trailing his palms up the side of her torn dress, his wrists brushed against her flesh, warm and firm, as he gently eased it off one arm, then the other, and finally over her head. His touch was warm and featherlike, barely brushing against her cold skin, energizing her senses. She heard him suck in his breath as the garment fell to the bed and she was left sitting there naked in front of him except for her panties. Her breasts were tight, the pink halo around her nipples darkening as they became taut. She tried to cross her arms in front of her chest, but only managed to bring one up.
Luna finally managed to meet Ruy’s gaze and she saw his jaw clench. ‘You’ve hurt your collarbone,’ he said. ‘I can see the shadow of a bruise already, but it doesn’t look broken. Even if it’s fractured, there’s nothing one can do about it apart from prescribing painkillers.’
Ruy was speaking quickly, his voice a little husky. She could see he was making an insurmountable effort to keep his eyes averted from her nakedness, but she could not keep her own from trailing down his bare, muscled chest to the telltale bulk outlined against his jeans, and she knew he was throbbing for her.
The shivering had started up again. Every inch of her body clamoured for the sensations that only he knew how to arouse, her insides quivering with anticipation.
‘You’re cold. I’m sorry I’m taking so much time over this, but I’m loath to hurt you.’ He met no resistance when his fingers went to the top of her panties and she swallowed hard as he peeled them off in one smooth movement. With a sick pang Luna wondered just how many women he had relieved of their underwear in exactly the same skilful manner, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘It’s all right, Luna,’ he whispered, sensing her unease as he scooped her up in his arms to take her into the bathroom. ‘You’re safe with me.’
His intimate tone tugged at strings inside her, strings connected to her confused and conflicting emotions, which secretly revelled in his barely concealed desire for her, even though she did not wholly trust his intentions and was unwilling to yield to him. Until now, Luna had never been carried in such a way by any man but the feeling of being held so effortlessly and protectively against the smooth skin of his arms and chest was unlike anything she’d ever known. Unable to lift her arms around Ruy’s neck, she let herself rest limply against him, fighting the urge to lean her head on the curve of his shoulder. There were scratches on her arms and legs, and a wound on her left thigh where her dress had been ripped, the blood of which had dried in brownish streaks.
‘You’ve really made a good job of this, haven’t you?’ he murmured as he lowered her into the warm water and knelt beside the bath, leaning his forearms on the edge.
Luna slid into the scented foamy liquid and rested her head against the side of the bath. She closed her eyes, letting the heat penetrate her aching limbs. It was strange how, after a while, her inhibitions around Ruy always seemed to evaporate. Despite her tiredness, at this precise moment she would welcome anything he wanted to do to her, and she waited in anticipation.
He concentrated first on her hands, which were painful and full of small cuts and grazes from the thorny bushes, then her elbow, which was sticky with blood. He washed away the dirt from her face. ‘It’s only mud and a few scratches,’ he murmured softly, letting his thumb roll sensuously over her cheeks, too close to her parted lips for comfort. ‘Nothing too serious, it’ll all be gone by tomorrow.’ The smile he gave her sent tremors down Luna’s spine, making her stomach flip with an urgent need.
Soon she felt the wet bar of soap glide first down her neck, then around her shoulders and along her arms. The sensation was one of liquid heat. He lifted an arm to wash beneath it, and very slowly did the same to the other on her injured side. Silently, she willed him to move to her breasts – they were hard as rocks and the twin peaks were begging for his touch – but he had taken hold of one of her legs now, letting the soap trail over it gently before moving to the other. It was both agony and bliss.
The sole of her foot accidentally brushed against the bath and she uttered a small cry. Ruy immediately gave it his attention. The twigs and sharp rocks had cut into her delicate skin like so many viciously sharp knives.
‘I lost my shoe,’ she explained as she saw the dark brows gather in concern.
‘I know.’ He shook his head and replaced her foot gently in the water.
The soap in his hand was now rolling over her waist and flat stomach, arousing new and unexpected twinges of pleasure. She inhaled sharply.
Ruy’s hands stopped moving. ‘Am I hurting you?’ he asked, his voice low and husky.
Luna passed her tongue over her lips, her eyes full of misty sensuality as she silently met his molten gaze. She said nothing, and her lashes lowered once more.
And then his hands moved again, smoothly over her thighs, soaping them first on the outside, then the inside, so close to where she was intimately throbbing that she could scream. The warm water was caressing the core of her, but that wasn’t enough to soothe the urgent ache, the heat that was building up inside, driving upwards inexorably towards the junction of her thighs; she wanted to feel the touch of his strong fingers stroking and kneading her as they had done before. Every inch of her flesh was tingling, crying out for the drug he had served up to her, and to which she now knew she was addicted.
‘Right,’ he said, as he abruptly stood up. ‘I think I’ve attended to everything. Let me
lift you out.’
Luna fell from paradise with a bump. A strange twist of disappointment squeezed her heart as she realized this longing within her would be left unfulfilled. She opened her passionate, glittering eyes and met his smoky blue gaze. If the eyes are the mirror of the soul, those dark irises staring back at her offered no reflection of his feelings.
‘Feeling better?’ he asked.
Damn the man, surely he knew the havoc he had provoked. She managed to look up at him, meeting his indigo gaze without flinching. ‘I feel just great, thank you. The warm water seems to have done the trick. You were right – it is the best remedy for aches and pains. More than anything.’
He shook his head slowly, his golden-brown hand moving gently over his jawline as he regarded her with a thoughtful expression that didn’t conceal his amusement. Then, pulling a towel off the hot rail, he lifted her up and out of the bath, standing her on the mat and supporting her against him, wet and dripping. After that, he wrapped the towel around her body before scooping her up again and laying her on the bed. The entire motion was achieved so swiftly she had barely time to blink.
He seized the medical kit and once more sat himself down on the bed beside her. ‘Now that the fun bit is over,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll have a good look at those cuts. Some need more attention than others, like that gash on your thigh. It looks quite fierce.’
‘You don’t waste time, do you?’ Luna said, piqued by his haste.
‘I think you quite enjoy playing doctors and nurses.’
He winked at her. ‘In this instance, doctors and patients,’ he corrected as he took out what he needed to cleanse, dress and tape a wound. There were all sorts of arcane things in his case: weird-looking plants and twigs, bundles of herbs, small dark bottles of liquid, tiny capsules and transparent little boxes filled with different-coloured powders. A real Aladdin’s cave of unconventional oddities, Luna thought, a little disparagingly, then immediately checked herself, blushing inwardly at her unkind thoughts. What was happening to her? All her reactions were so out of character; what was she becoming? It was as if there were two Lunas and she really disliked this stranger inhabiting her.
Legacy Page 36
