‘Is it such a difficult decision?’ he asked softly, his dark eyes ever watchful on hers.
‘I’m torn between loyalty to my sister and the thought of a day out at sea. I’ve never been on a yacht before.’
‘Then you have no choice,’ he urged insistently. ‘Charlene will be at work in any case, and I promise to take you straight back to Matilde’s afterwards.’
Tanya gave in reluctantly. ‘Ok, I’ll come.’ The thought of it accelerated her heartbeats. It could be what they both needed, a day free of interruptions, away from other people. Maybe he would tell her how he felt; maybe this was his plan.
Tanya was ready when Alejandro came to pick her up the next morning. She wore white cotton trousers, rubber-soled shoes, and a navy and white striped jumper. In her bag she had put her bikini, sun-cream, sunglasses, a towel—and a jacket. She still hadn’t got over how much cooler this northern tip of the island was.
He appraised her silently, nodding his approval. He had on a navy sweatshirt and jeans, and Tanya could not remember ever seeing him dressed so casually. Not that he looked less attractive; far from it. Already her pulses were racing, and she had high hopes for the outcome of today. She had spent most of the night worrying, but in the end had decided that only good could come out of it. She would relax and enjoy herself and let things take their natural course.
His yacht, named Water Dancer, was much bigger than she expected, and Tanya was very impressed. ‘I love it,’ she said excitedly. ‘I love the name; I love everything about it.’
‘I’m glad you approve,’ he said solemnly.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Nothing, just stand around and look beautiful.’ His tone was deep and sensual, and Tanya felt her adrenalin begin to flow.
He untied the boat, started the engine, and slowly and steadily steered her out of the harbour. Tanya watched him, admiring the ease with which he handled the vessel, and as they left Tenerife behind, as the island became smaller and smaller until it was no more than a dot on the horizon, her excitement grew. She felt confident that today she would find out exactly what Alejandro’s feelings were.
‘I had a word with Inocente,’ he said, after they had been going for about an hour. Up until then they had spoken about nothing except the boat, the glorious weather, everything in fact except themselves. She had explored Water Dancer, admired the layout, the ultrasmart galley, the luxurious cabins, the sumptuous lounge, and now she was beside him again, watching his strong, capable hands on the wheel.
‘What did she say?’ Her heart skipped an uneasy beat. She did not want to talk about Inocente today; she wanted nothing to spoil this rare occasion.
‘She admitted she had deliberately tried to break us up.’
‘Did she really?’ Tanya did not altogether believe him. ‘And did she also tell you how she’d found out that I wasn’t seeing you on that particular morning?’
‘From Cecilia, my daily housekeeper,’ he said with a wry twist to his lips. ‘Inocente came round to my house; the woman told her in all innocence.’
‘I see, and why did she come round to your house when you were supposed to have finished with her?’ It sounded to Tanya as though he had not done a very good job of it.
‘She does not give up easily, unfortunately.’
‘So it would seem,’ she snapped. ‘And there’s also the fact that you said she had never been to your apartment when she told me she had. One of you is lying.’
‘Tanya, amor mio, I can assure you she has not, not ever. She got that address also from Cecilia. The woman was particularly indiscreet. I have already spoken to her. And if it will put your mind at rest, I gave Inocente a piece of my mind also for telling such outrageous lies. I do not think she will be troubling us again.’
Tanya smiled weakly. Maybe not, but the damage was already done. There was still a thin thread of suspicion that would not go away.
They dropped anchor round about one o’clock, and Alejandro produced a bottle of champagne and a superb cold buffet lunch, and afterwards she put on her bikini and lay on the deck in the warm sunshine. Earlier it had been chilly, but now it was still and warm and she closed her eyes.
Alejandro changed into his swimming-trunks too and sat down beside her, and the next second she felt his hands on her legs, applying her sun-cream. ‘It is far too easy to get burnt in this African sun,’ he told her.
It was an excuse to touch her, and Tanya knew it, and she felt fire course through her limbs. When suddenly he stopped she opened her eyes and he was looking at her intently, desire darkening his eyes. ‘Tanya, querida,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I can resist you no longer.’ And his mouth came down on hers, hesitantly at first, until he met with no resistance, and then it was a kiss of mutual hunger.
They had both been building up to it all morning and, despite their talk about Inocente, neither could hold anything back. Tongues entwined; bodies pressed. Tanya’s hands reached up into the thick blackness of his hair; his hands explored the curves of her body, disposing with indecent haste of her spotted bikini top, teasing her already erect nipples between thumb and forefinger.
Tanya arched her body into his, excitement running like quicksilver through her limbs. Any second now she expected his whispered words of love. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
‘Mi corazón, Tanya mine.’ His fingers trailed over the flatness of her stomach, inching inside the edge of her bikini bottom, easing it down over her hips, exploring, inciting, sending her soaring sky-high.
But when he began to take off his own swimmingtrunks too she knew she had to stop him. Disappointment washed over her, engulfing her, saddening her, angering her. If this was all he wanted, then he could take a running jump. She was not his plaything; this wasn’t the reason she had come out with him today. It was words of love she wanted, not the physical act.
‘No, Alejandro.’ She rolled away from and sat up, her hands around her knees, her whole body tense.
‘No?’ His voice sounded loud out here where all was still and quiet, save for the swishing of the waves against the side of his boat.
‘No.’
He swore violently and jerked himself to his feet where he stood looking down at her, his face harshly critical. ‘Maldito sea! Tanya, I have waited patiently. I have waited for you to be ready, for you to make the first move, to give me some form of encouragement. I did not want to rush you. I thought this was the moment. It is obvious I was wrong; it is obvious I am wasting my time.’ He gave a snort of anger and hurled himself towards the cabin.
Tanya closed her eyes, tears squeezing through her lids and rolling down her cheeks. This was it. It was all over; there was no hope left. Alejandro had proved that all he wanted was her body, an affair, a physical relationship. It was all he had ever wanted. He had no feelings for her, not real feelings, not like the ones she had for him.
Today had been a mistake; she ought to have gone back to Matilde’s, as she had planned. Except that then she would have kept wondering and hoping, and now she knew that there was no hope. She shivered and rubbed her arms and wanted to go into the cabin to get her clothes, but because Alejandro was there she refrained.
Not until he came back out, fully dressed, and restarted the engine did she get to her feet. She glanced across at him, but his face was set, his eyes straight ahead, and she spun on her heel and marched inside.
Her hands were trembling as she pulled on her trousers and jumper, and her head was held high when she walked back out to the deck. She had been tempted, for a moment, to stay there out of sight, but that was the coward’s way out. If he wanted to be offended because she wouldn’t let him make love, then that was his bad luck, not hers. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the rest of the voyage?
‘Enjoy’ was perhaps the wrong word. The atmosphere was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. ‘I don’t know why You’re behaving like this,’ she snapped, when she could bear the silence no longer. ‘Surely I’m not the first woman
to say no to you?’ Or maybe she was; maybe that was what was annoying him.
His eyes were cold on hers. ‘That isn’t the issue, Tanya; surely you know that? Surely you know what is wrong?’
She knew he didn’t love her, but if it wasn’t because she had rejected him that was making him so cold then she didn’t know what was. But she had no intention of admitting her ignorance, and she lifted her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. ‘So You’re going to spoil the rest of the day because of it?’
His fingers clenched the wheel so tightly that his knuckles shone white. ‘You make it sound as though it means nothing.’
‘What is to be will be,’ she said. ‘You can’t make things happen.’
‘You’re damn right you can’t.’ Her words seemed to anger him more and more, and the boat was going so fast that it seemed to be almost skimming the waves.
Maybe it would be best after all if she kept out of his way. She returned to the main cabin and sat on one of the grey velvet seats. To her relief he eased off the throttle slightly, and the journey back to Tenerife was accomplished in reasonable comfort—of the body if not the mind!
They reached the harbour and he steered the boat skilfully back into its berth. Tanya climbed off, not looking forward to the ride home. This was the end, apparently, of their relationship. His feelings had never been as great as hers, and now it was all over.
She wished that she had never let Charlene persuade her to come to Tenerife. In the nine years since she had first loved and lost Alejandro she had pushed him right out of her mind. Not completely—it was impossible ever to forget a person you had loved so deeply— but she had resigned herself to a life without him… and now all the old heartache had come back. There would be months and months spent thinking about him, wishing that things had been different.
Suddenly she remembered that she had left her bag on the deck where she had been standing as he tied up. At the exact moment she turned she saw Alejandro pitch forward, try to save himself, and then hit the deck with a resounding thud. She had never run so quickly in her life, and her heart was thumping desperately when she scrambled on board. He made no move to get up.
‘Alejandro.’ Her voice rose shrilly. ‘Alejandro!’ Panic began to set in. What if he was dead? She put her fingers to the side of his neck, feeling for his pulse. To her relief she found it. But he was still unconscious. She mustn’t try to move him; she must get help. Off the boat again she jumped, and to her relief saw the harbour master. She ran up to him. ‘Please, you must help. My friend’s tripped and knocked himself out. He needs an ambulance.’
‘Ambulancia? Si. I do it at once.’
The next few minutes were agonising. Alejandro was still unconscious when the ambulance arrived. They let her ride with him to the private clinic, and she waited while he was X-rayed and examined. He had apparently hit his head when he fell, and although there appeared to be no serious injury they could not be one hundred per cent sure until he regained consciousness. No one could tell her how long that would be.
Tanya had never felt so devastated in her life. She was finally allowed to see Alejandro when he was put in his hospital bed, and she could have cried when she saw how pale and still he looked…and it was all her fault. She had realised when she got back to the yacht that he must have caught his foot in the strap of her bag. By her own forgetfulness she had put his life in danger. How could she live with it if he died?
Crisógono, as the closest relative Tanya knew, was informed and he turned up at the clinic just as Tanya thought of leaving. ‘Oh, Cris,’ she cried, flinging herself into his arms. ‘Please let him be all right.’
‘My brother’s tough.’ He told her with a smile that she knew was forced. ‘We must all hope and pray, but I’m sure he’ll pull through.’
‘I hope so,’ she whispered brokenly.
‘How did it happen?’
She felt her face colouring as she told him about the bag, but he insisted that she must not blame herself. ‘Alejandro should have looked where he was walking,’ he said, but she could see the strain in his face.
‘Manolo!’ she exclaimed suddenly.’ Alejandro told me his nanny is off on a week’s holiday. He was going to friends straight after school, and they’re bringing him home at six. Someone must be there to tell him about his father, to stay with him. Oh, Cris, what are we going to do? Shall I go?’ It was the very least she could do. ‘Manolo likes me; he knows we were going out together today.’ Goodness, what did you tell an eight-year-old child?
‘I think that’s a good idea,’ said Crisógono. ‘I’d like to stay here a while with Alejandro, just in case he regains consciousness, but I’ll tell Beatriz when I get home and I’ve no doubt she’ll come to see you.’
He found her the house key in Alejandro’s trouser pocket and Tanya took a taxi to La Orotava, after first directing the driver to the apartment in Santa Cruz so that she could pick up her clothes; Cris said he would arrange to fetch Alejandro’s car later. It felt strange entering the house by herself; she felt almost guilty. And as she walked through the rooms she could sense Alejandro, almost as though he were there with her.
She found the kitchen, a large room looking as though it had recently been modernised, and made herself a cup of coffee, but before she had taken even one sip of it she heard Manolo’s excited voice. ‘Papá, Papá, donde estás?’
The boy stopped short when he saw Tanya instead of his father, but he grinned easily. ‘Hola, Tanya.’
‘Hello, Manolo,’ she answered gravely.
‘Dónde está Papá?’ He looked around the kitchen expectantly. ‘Oh, I am sorry. I forget you do not speak Spanish. Where is Papá? I have a lot to tell him.’
‘Manolo,’ Tanya went down on one knee front of him and took his small hands into hers, wondering how on earth she was going to break the news. ‘I am afraid your daddy is not here. He is poorly; he is—in hospital.’
Manolo’s already large eyes widened considerably and his face grew pale. ‘Papá is in hospital?’ Tears began to well. ‘But I want my papá. Tanya, I want him here. He must come home; I want him.’
‘That is not possible, my darling.’ She pulled him into her arms. ‘He is not very well.’
‘What is wrong with him? Papá is never sick, never.’
‘He fell, Manolo. He fell and hurt his head, as you fall sometimes.’
‘But I do not go to the hospital.’
‘Because you are never badly hurt.’
‘Papá is hurting a lot?’
‘He is asleep at the moment.’
‘I want to go to him.’
The tears were falling fast now, and Tanya produced a handkerchief, mopping his face, but no sooner had she dried one lot of tears than another instantly followed. ‘Your daddy wouldn’t know you were there,’ she told him softly. ‘Tomorrow, perhaps, you can go; he will be much better then.’ She mentally crossed her fingers that she was right.
‘Will you stay with me, Tanya?’ He raised his little tear-stained face to hers.
‘Of course, my darling. Of course I will.’
‘All night?’
‘Yes, Manolo.’
‘Will you sleep with me?’
Tanya was not sure that his father would approve of that; he had brought his son up to be much older than his years.
‘I’ll sleep in the next room, and we’ll leave the doors open.’
‘And the light on?’
‘Just a little one.’
‘How did Papá fall? What was he doing?’
‘He tripped and fell on his yacht. We had just come back. He banged his head.’ Manolo was a sensible boy; she did not see why she should not tell him the truth.
‘I hurt my head once. Papá bandaged it up. Does he have a bandage on?’
Tanya shook her head. ‘No, he hasn’t.’
The news seemed to reassure Manolo. He obviously thought it couldn’t be too bad if he wasn’t bandaged. ‘I am hungry, Tanya.’
’Then you t
ell me what you would like and we’ll do it together.’
Later, when Manolo was in bed, she telephoned Charlene to explain why she wouldn’t be back.
‘But it’s not your place to look after his son,’ said her sister resentfully. ‘He has family; why can’t they do it?’
‘Because I want to. It’s my fault he’s in hospital; it’s the very least I can do.’
‘I think You’re crazy.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Don’t forget You’re flying home on Friday.’
‘I won’t. How’s Juan? I saw him the other day.’
‘Yes, he told me; he’s fine. I’ll explain about his cousin. Maybe he’ll be able to organise someone else to look after Manolo.’
Tanya felt like screaming, and after a few more words with her sister she put down the phone. She ought to have known Charlene would not understand.
And then Beatriz came, flustered, anxious, concerned both about her brother-in-law and his son. ‘This is terrible.’ she said, hugging Tanya, and holding her for many long seconds. ‘Poor Alejandro.’
‘Have you been to the clinic?’
‘Not yet. Cris, he tell me all about it.’
‘Alejandro has not regained consciousness?’
‘No.’
The two women went on talking and worrying, and Beatriz asked Tanya if she would continue to look after Manolo. ‘We all have families of our own,’ she explained. ‘He could come to one of us, of course, but he would worry that his father might come home and he would not be here. He will be happier in his own home. It is unfortunate that his nanny is away.’
‘I’ll stay for as long as I’m needed,’ said Tanya. Even if it meant extending her holiday she would stay. This was the man she loved. Looking after his son was the very least she could do, especially as the accident had been her fault.
The thought would not go away, keeping her awake all through the night, and when she heard Manolo call out she was at his side immediately.
He was dreaming, thrashing about in the bed, calling for his father. Tanya put a soothing hand on his forehead, murmuring softly, encouragingly, trying to relax and comfort him, having no idea whether she got through, but finally he lay still, his breathing deep and normal.
Bitter Memories Page 14
