And then paradise was in reach again, clouding her mind. Ruy was lifting the towel up to her thigh and trailing his lean fingers over the scratches. Predictably, his touch aroused her at once, in an almost Pavlovian response, as flames of sensuality chased through her body, blood thundering in her ears. Her eyes trained on his dark bent head, his neck and bare shoulders, his chest. She was so tempted to brush her fingertips over his golden smooth skin, wondering if it was all as silken and warm as she imagined.
He must think I’m accident prone, she thought, remembering it was only recently that he had dressed her hand.
There was a rhythm in his movements as Ruy examined, probed and swabbed. He was concentrating on the gash on her thigh now. Luna winced as he daubed it with antiseptic. ‘You have quite a collection of cuts and bruises. Anyway, what were you doing up there in the hills?’
‘Looking for plants.’
He lifted his head, eyes narrowing. ‘Looking for plants or playing detective?’
Luna’s gaze shot to his. ‘What are you insinuating?’
‘I find it rather a coincidence that you should come across Sabrina’s glade just like that, don’t you think? And the gypsies’ camp …’ he left the end of his phrase trailing expectantly.
‘So you think I was snooping around just to spy on you, is that it?’ Her stare became defiant. ‘What I do and where I go is none of your business. I don’t need to justify myself to you.’
‘Oh yes, you do, when it has to do with my private life. What makes you think you’ve the right to invade my privacy?’
She could see he was now getting angry too, but it didn’t matter.
‘What private life? What privacy?’ she rasped. ‘Your socalled private life is the talk of Andalucía.’ Then, appalled at the unpleasantness in her tone, she blushed again, letting her head drop back against the pillow. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. ‘You’ve been very kind to me and all I’ve given you is grief. I don’t know what’s got into me … I’m tired. Forgive me.’
He had finished applying strips to close the gash on her thigh, covering it now with a gauze dressing. Slowly he lifted his gaze to meet her contrite look.
‘Sexual frustration, I suppose. Don’t you think?’
She sucked in her breath and felt her cheeks burning crimson at his directness. Her eyes evaded his intent blue stare.
‘Don’t look so shocked, Luna. You may not want to give in to this chemistry between us, but you really can’t deny that it’s there.’
Of course she couldn’t. She bit her lip and closed her eyes.
‘What you need now is a good night’s sleep. You’re exhausted. Let me help you with your nightclothes. Are they in this cupboard?’ She nodded lamely. He was right, why fight what was so obviously there, and which felt so good?
Why fight? Because this man could hurt her – hurt her so badly that she might never recover from the wounds.
He had come back to the bed. ‘How’s the back now?’
‘Much better, thank you. The hot bath really helped.’
He lifted one faintly quizzical eyebrow. ‘More than anything, ey?’
So he had understood her earlier jibe. Luna shook her head. ‘No, not more than anything,’ she heard herself admit in a hollow voice. She wanted to beg him to touch her, but instead mutely lifted her amber eyes to his, unable to conceal the longing and pent-up desire that burned inside. He held her gaze for a lengthy moment.
‘Can you stand up?’
‘I’ll try.’ Luna slipped her legs gently off the bed and he helped her to her feet. She winced, but managed to stand up unsteadily, letting the towel slide to the floor. His strong supporting hand settled at the base of her spine and when he handed the nightdress with the other, she noticed it was trembling slightly. She had no doubt the wild desire that was setting her on fire was scorching him too.
‘I’ll make you a hot drink and bring it to you,’ he said a little brusquely. His gaze flew away from hers as he turned down the bed and helped her back into it.
I could get used to being fussed over like this, Luna thought, as she settled herself between the cool sheets. Laying her head back on the pillow, she let herself sink into the softness of the mattress and closed her eyes.
She listened to the wind whistling eerily between the window slats like a wandering lost soul and the sea howling and pounding relentlessly against the rocky shore. Nature unleashed, she thought, not unlike the way her senses and emotions ran riot whenever Ruy was near, and as dangerous and unpredictable as the passion simmering in her blood. She knew it would soon boil over if he were to remain around her for much longer.
Luna heard him come into the room; he was very quiet but her hearing was sharp. At first she kept her eyes shut, aware that he was very close to the bed, looking down on her. Then, after a brief moment, she opened her eyes and felt herself melting under his burning gaze. Silently, she stared up at him, lost in unexpressed emotion.
‘I was so afraid,’ she murmured.
Ruy was holding a tray, which he put down on the bedside table, and he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m here now. Drink this. It’s a mixture of poppy seed, chamomile and passion flower. It’ll relax you … help you sleep.’
She noticed he was wearing a clean shirt, and had washed his face and smoothed back his hair, which was still a little damp. He must keep spare clothes in his car, she thought – more the organized doctor now than the gypsy. The pain in her back had returned and she struggled to sit up. He put his arm under her waist and gently lifted her, piling cushions behind her against the headboard, before passing her the tea.
The liquid was warm, sweet and strangely aromatic. It felt good and she sipped it slowly, wanting to prolong the feeling. Gradually, as the hot brew soothed her body, it melted away the stress that kept the tears frozen behind her eyelids. All she wanted now was to throw her arms around Ruy’s neck, bury her head in his strong shoulder and feel his heat radiate through her.
‘I’m a mess. My life’s a mess,’ she murmured, tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks.
‘Shush, querida, no llores, don’t cry, darling. You’re tired and you need a good night’s sleep.’ Gently he took her in his arms and hugged her close to his powerful chest, stroking her long silky hair, whispering loving words against her ear while Luna sobbed quietly against him. ‘I’m not leaving you tonight,’ he told her when she finally stopped, thankfully echoing what she had been silently wishing for. ‘I’ll bring up my sleeping bag.’
‘You can’t spend the night in a sleeping bag!’ she exclaimed, aghast.
He laughed at the shocked look in her eyes. ‘I’m used to it. I often sleep on the beach under the stars. Waking up with the sun, watching it rise gradually above the hills, listening to the birds and to nature as it rises from slumber. It’s the most wonderful feeling of freedom and oneness with the world. You should try it.’
His eyes, now the colour of a bright cerulean sky, glittered with a different sort of passion, lighting up his face with a radiance she had never seen before. Aunt Isabel was right: the voice of Ruy’s gypsy blood sang much louder than his other genes. She reached out a hand and pushed back a strand of raven-black hair that had slipped across his forehead.
She felt the tremor run through him, but he visibly checked himself, breathing in deeply. Taking her hand, he turned it palm up and brought it to his warm lips, then closed her slender fingers over his kiss.
‘Buenas noches, querida, y duerme bien, goodnight, my darling, and sleep well.’
* * *
Ruy helped Luna snuggle down into the bed and tucked her in. Before leaving the room, he stood there a while and watched her fall asleep. Then he went down to the car and returned with his sleeping bag, smiling to himself. He never thought the day would come when he would have to keep a check on his sexual urge because he had such a passionate need for a woman who rejected him, and for whom he felt so much love. Usually, women were never happier than when he undressed them �
� but not Luna. She was still resisting him, even now.
The realization of it made him frown. The fear in her eyes each time he had come too near was palpable. She needed help; that much was clear. He had guessed for a while now that she had likely been the victim of a traumatic experience and, although he didn’t know the nature of it, he wanted to find out. How long she had been living with its memory and how deep the damage had gone were still mysteries, and he needed to be careful how he approached the subject without upsetting her. All he knew was that she had appeared unexpectedly in his life like a shimmering moonbeam on a dark night, and that he loved her.
He sat on his sleeping bag in Luna’s moonlit bedroom, his back against the cupboard, watching her sleep. She was so beautiful, with her long pale hair spread over the pillow, thick lashes fanning her cheeks – an angel in repose, so vulnerable.
At some point she pushed back the sheet; her nightshirt had ridden up, so that it revealed her wounded thigh. Her leg looked shapely and smooth in the moonlight. The thought struck him that he had actually felt and kissed the inside of those thighs. He grew hard just at the idea of her wrapping them around him.
‘So much for self-control,’ he thought guiltily, with a sigh of self-derision, as he tried to control the erotic images running through his excited mind.
Ruy turned his brilliant, restless eyes away from the bed and looked out into the night. The storm had subsided now; the black, furious Atlantic was calmer and the wind had dropped, reducing the frothy white horses that had galloped over the ocean all evening to harmless waves, barely rippling the surface of the water. Out there the sky was mellow, powdered with twinkling stars, and the moon smiled enigmatically at him.
His gaze drifted back to the bed. Luna had shifted a little, her arm spread out along her body, her delicate hand resting on her mound of Venus. In one fluid movement he got up and went to stand quietly next to the bed. Her pink lips were parted as though inviting his kiss. The strap of her thin nightgown had slipped on to her shoulder, offering a tantalizing glimpse of breast. She had beautiful, firm breasts, high and rounded. It had been sweet torture while he soaped her body. He’d never been a voyeur, but this woman awakened the most basic and primitive instincts in him. And now, gazing down on Luna, he felt like baring her skin to his mouth and hands, inch by inch, smelling and tasting her; feeling her shudder with abandon beneath his touch. How was a man to resist such temptation? Still, he was a doctor and she was worn out and needing careful treatment.
So he turned away and went back to his sleeping bag. Heaven only knows how he’d get any sleep tonight with images of Luna racing through his head: Luna in his arms; Luna so passionate and eager, her softness leaning into his hardness, crying out her pleasure and her need for him as she had done the night before. He was there to look after her, not to indulge his fantasies, though. Tomorrow they would talk more, and perhaps he would try to unravel the mystery that was Luna Ward.
* * *
Luna was awakened by her own cry as the first light of dawn broke with a gossamer mist over the Atlantic like a delicate white finger pointing across the sky in the east. As she jerked upright, shaking convulsively, blood pounding in her head, teeth chattering, the nightmare still pursued her. She had been running endlessly in the woods, breathless, desperate to escape the menacing shadow tearing behind her, close on her heels, so close that she could almost feel the heat of his breath on her skin. Then there had been a light ahead, marking the edge of the forest, and she could just make out the silhouette of a figure outlined against it. Ruy … and he had his arms held out to her. She sprinted, stretching her legs as far as she could, running faster and faster; she needed to reach him before the shadow man grabbed her.
And then she fell against him, sobbing his name as his embrace closed around her. She looked up, but it wasn’t Ruy’s eyes she met … it was him … and his gaze held nothing but cruelty … and triumph. She had cried out in fear, a strident, piercing, primal sound that seemed to have been torn from the core of her being as she thrashed about, striking out like a wild cat, struggling to free herself from the shadow man’s icy, powerful grip.
‘Hush, querida, hush. Es solo una pesadilla, it’s only a bad dream.’ Luna emerged from her nightmare, disorientated for a few seconds; then she hiccupped a sob of relief. Ruy was sitting on the side of her bed, holding her to him, stroking her head gently, pushing her hair away from her clammy forehead and whispering reassuring words.
In the early morning glow her tearful eyes settled on his concerned face.
‘Ruy,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, Ruy! … You were there … trying to save me …’ She was pale, shaking uncontrollably, and she shrank closer, clinging to him in a bid to calm her breathing and quieten her heartbeat.
‘It’s all right, I’m here. There’s nothing to fear, querida,’ he said tenderly. ‘I’ll fetch you a drink, I won’t be a second.’
But her grip tightened on his shirt. ‘Don’t go,’ she pleaded. ‘Please don’t leave me.’
‘I’ll just bring you a little hot milk. It will help calm your nerves.’ Reluctantly she let go of him and he helped her lie back against the pillows. ‘I won’t be long, I promise.’
Luna gave him a pale smile. ‘Thanks. Thank you for everything.’ Her voice was unsteady and he winked at her before heading for the stairs.
Lying back against the pillows, she stared out of the window over the sparkling blue sea that stretched as far as the limitless horizon. Ideas fought for clarity in her head. She was so used to these nightmares, but this time there had been a light at the end of the tunnel, and she knew all she had wanted … needed … was to gravitate towards the sanctuary of Ruy’s arms.
He came back carrying a glass of hot milk on a tray with some grapes. ‘Here, drink this, querida. I’ve added some honey and a little brandy to give you a boost,’ he grinned. ‘My father’s remedy for everything. The grapes will refresh you too.’
‘Thank you. I’ll have a sip of the milk, but I’ll pass on the grapes.’
‘You haven’t eaten since yesterday. Besides, the sugar is good for you. It’ll restore your energy.’
She ate a couple of grapes and smiled wanly. ‘I’ll cook us some breakfast before getting off to work.’
‘You’re not going anywhere today and neither am I. I’m on holiday this week, and you’re certainly not going into the clinic. Doctor’s orders.’
‘I really should catch up on things at the Institute,’ she persisted. ‘Thanks to you, I feel much better now.’
‘The only way you can thank me is to do as I say and take a break for the next few days to recover.’
‘Sorry about last night …’ Luna gave him a timid smile.
He looked at her uncertainly. ‘Sorry about what? You had a very traumatic experience. I wouldn’t like to be caught up in a storm in those woods.’
‘Still, I behaved like a spoilt child,’ she whispered, sipping her milk and avoiding his eyes. When she lifted her head, his gaze was on her, intent and thoughtful.
‘Anyway, I tried to ask you last night, and I’m sorry if I was a bit aggressive … The thing is … what were you doing out there in the storm?’
‘I went to see if I could find your herb garden. Then I got lost … and heard voices … and it was you and Sabrina …’ Her voice tailed off miserably.
‘I’m happy that you went to look for my garden,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘Even happier that you failed to find it, but now I can show it to you myself one day … and you won’t be able to trample all over the seedlings.’ Ruy smiled, and then his expression became more serious. ‘But your nightmare …’ His eyes were kind, unwavering. ‘It isn’t the first time you’ve had this sort of thing happen to you, is it?’
She shook her head silently.
‘Is it a recurrent dream? The same each time?’
Her mouth trembled. ‘Sort of,’ she whispered.
‘Would it help to talk about it?’
Ruy wasn’t rushing her.
By now Luna had enough clarity to realize that he was beginning to heal and reawaken her, but she found it hard to bare her soul to anyone, let alone the man whose contempt she most feared. Still, he was a doctor and it was becoming starkly obvious to her that she needed help if she was going to find the real Luna again … or earn a modicum of peace or happiness. She needed to feel safe enough with a man to be able to lower her guard if she wanted to lead a normal and healthy life in the future. Of that, she was sure.
‘It’s all about trust, isn’t it?’ she said at length. She meant it more as a statement than a question, and Ruy nodded silently. There was another lapse of time while she pondered on the issue before she spoke again. ‘I think I’m beginning to trust you,’ she said slowly, looking into his glowing eyes. Something in the way their fire lovingly caressed her features made her feel the last vestiges of ice around her heart begin to melt away.
His hand moved to cover hers, a warm strong hand, gentle and reassuring. He gazed into her eyes and she knew what it was to feel safe and secure.
‘He was a member of the family …’ she said at length, slowly, as though the words were dragged from her. She had never told a single person her shameful secret, and she shook with the effort of voicing it.
‘Go on, take your time.’ Ruy’s voice was soothing, tender, as if quieting a troubled child.
‘He used to come over now and again while I was growing up, just flying visits in the holidays. I had so few people in my life, apart from Grandma Ward and Aunt Bea … It was nice to feel connected to more of my family somehow.’ A lump in her throat prevented her from continuing for a long moment.
She was looking at Ruy now without seeing him, locked into the memory, reliving her nightmare.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ he whispered encouragingly. ‘Go on.’
Luna took a breath. ‘My father wasn’t around enough of the time. He was grateful that someone was there to take care of me, I suppose.’ Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. ‘This man … he took me places … to the zoo, the cinema … an art gallery …’ She swiped a hand across her eyes. ‘I trusted him, you see. I was still only twelve. Of course I was naïve. I was just a child, for God’s sake. But he made me feel responsible …’
Legacy Page 37
