by Anne Hampson
But as she and Ramon drove back into the town her uneasiness fell from her because, as always, she was savouring the beguiling atmosphere of mellowness and age which the city exuded. But there was evidence too, of the cosmopolitan culture which seemed totally at variance with the unspoiled beauty of the island in general.
The housekeeper had gone to bed when they arrived back at the Casa Don Felipe and so had Ana. Paula thanked her employer for the wonderful dinner and turned to go.
'You enjoyed it?' Although his words revealed interest, there was an abstracted expression on his lean aquiline features.
'Yes, very much.'
'You looked most charming and sophisticated,' he commented, surprising her.
'Thank you,' she murmured, all her awkwardness returning. 'I—think it's time I was going to bed.'
'Come out onto the balcony with me.' His brusque tones overrode any protest she might have considered making and she acquiesced, nerves tingling. One half of her wanted to escape… but the other half wanted to go out there, into that romantic, moonlit setting, and be alone with her handsome employer.
'It's a beautiful night,' she murmured, more for something to say than anything else.
'You're very appreciative of beauty.' He turned to look down into her eyes. He was at her side and the subtle, elusive remnants of aftershave mingling with the odour of his body assailed her nostrils in pervasive heady waves. Nerve ends tingled, emotions heightened as the silent moments passed and she became more and more aware of him as a man—of his magnetic personality, the consummate power he had to arouse her senses, to fill her heart and mind with impossible desires.
She looked away, towards the harbour, where the inexpressible melding of colour and luminescence contributed even more atmosphere, adding to the magical impression of something out of a fairy tale. The water, crystal-bright, appeared smooth as silk, and argent in the moonglow.
It was far too romantic; her senses were alive to the nearness of Ramon, and she turned swiftly, deciding to escape to her bedroom. But, somehow, Ramon's foot seemed to get in her way and she jerked against him, the contact of his body an electric shock affecting her heartbeat. He caught and held her, the perfumed aureole of her hair tantalising against his face, his hands warm and strong on her arms. She quivered beneath his touch; his breath came warm against her cheeks. The glimmer of a smile touched his lips before, without Paula even suspecting his intention, he bent his head and she felt the nerve-tingling pressure of his lips on hers, sensuous, moist, possessive. He was crushing her against him; instinctively she struggled but found her hands caught in a grip of steel, and held behind her back. Then the instinct to struggle was lost in the desire to know more about him, his arrogant, domineering way with women. His eyes were dark, the fire within burning into hers; she could only stare up at him, drawn by the power he possessed. Her heart raced as his ardour increased; she tried desperately to use her common sense to control her thoughts so the consequences of this folly could be assessed, but the desire of the moment was paramount, the primordial yearning of the flesh, all powerful, irresistible. His mouth was hard against her softly yielding lips; she knew the thrill of his tongue sliding moistly over hers, then later finding her throat and a hypersensitive spot behind her ear. Her fingers caressed instinctively, touching his nape, sending vibrations through his body at the contact. She felt him quiver at the warm symmetry of her body and she arched it to his, and a little moan of pleasure escaped her as she savoured the force of his passion.
Presently he held her from him and she waited in agonised silence for him to make some half-sneering remark or, at best, to treat her with a sort of contemptuous, sardonic amusement. Instead, he looked deeply into her eyes and said, 'My dear, you act as if you love me.'
'I…' Her voice trailed as colour ebbed from her cheeks.
'Ought I to apologise?' And, when she did not answer, 'I don't intend to, Paula, because it was very plain that you wanted me to kiss you, just as much as I wanted to kiss you.' She still made no response and he added, 'I've wanted to kiss you, Paula, since the moment I set eyes on you.'
She shook her head in a swift and negative gesture.
'No, you couldn't have,' she protested, a trifle dazed by his admission. 'You didn't even notice me as a woman.'
His hands were gentle as they enclosed her face.
'Come,' he said abruptly, 'it's time we were sleeping.'
Paula awoke the following morning to the awareness of sunshine filtering the shutters and she sat up, memory flooding over her, bringing colour to her cheeks and the recollection to her mind of the warning she had received from the woman who had interviewed her for the post of secretary to Ramon Calzada. Don't fall in love with him. Well, not only had she fallen in love with him but she had allowed him to see it. What further folly could she have committed? And now she must leave his employ and begin all over again, trying to mend her life… and her heart.
She felt she could not face him at the breakfast table, but of course there was no way of avoiding the meeting. And so she put on as casual an air as she could, entering the elegant room quietly and managing to produce a smile as she said with a slight nod of her head, 'Good morning, senor. I hope I haven't kept you waiting?'
'Not at all. Sit down, Paula—' He drew out a chair for her. 'Did you sleep well?'
She stared at him, staggered by the difference in his attitude towards her and by the total absence of any sign of contempt. Yet surely he must be thinking of all those other secretaries who had proved to be nuisances by falling in love with him. Surely he was now putting her into the same category and considering dismissing her from his service.
'Yes, very well, thank you, senor.'
Faintly he smiled, his eyes staring directly into hers.
'You're shy. I believe I remarked on the fact before. I find it rather refreshing to discover a woman who is shy.'
She looked down at her empty plate for a moment and then, 'I don't understand you, senor.'
To her surprise he laughed. Her breath caught at the sheer perfection of his features, at the flash of perfect white teeth, the creation of crinkly lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. He could be devastating if only he were to forget those women who had let him down, and all the others whose favours he had enjoyed. Yes, if he could forget the past and fall in love… Perhaps one day he would. Paula felt physically sick at the idea of some lucky woman winning him for a husband and in her heart the pain was almost physical. Well, should that happen, which after some consideration she felt was most unlikely, she would not be around to suffer. In fact, she would not be around much longer at all.
At the end of the week she would give him her notice.
The following evening he was charm itself, and Paula did not know when she had enjoyed a meal as much as the intimate, candlelit dinner set out for them on the pool patio where lights shone in the trees and on the pool—amber and rose and subtle peach. It was a romantic, friendly occasion and when at the end Ramon again took her in his arms and kissed her it seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to reciprocate. Yet the moment she had left him she was filled with shame and dread—yes, dread of the future, for she could see no real happiness for her for a very long time to come. Her logical mind assured her that she would eventually come to discover that the pain was not so acute; from then on it would become less and less noticeable until it was gone altogether. But the scar would remain, a reminder of her folly, and a barrier to perfect happiness with any other man.
The following evening Ramon took her to a mountain restaurant where they dined in a rustic atmosphere. There was a combo band, and after the first course of fried oysters, Ramon invited Paula to dance. She rose nervously, her mind still in a whirl of unreality at this staggering change in her employer's attitude towards her. She quivered beneath his touch as he slid an arm around her slender waist, and savoured the cool contact of his hand enclosing hers. She danced on air, losing her nervousness as she matched his expe
rt steps—surprisingly without effort. Her confidence began to rise and she was able to look up into his face and talk to him as they danced.
'That was a real pleasure,' was his flattering comment as they resumed their places at the table. 'You dance very well, Paula.'
Paula… He had used her Christian name ever since the night of the dinner with his client Luis Perez. She felt her pulse race; her mind was in a daze by the unmistakable affection he was showing her.
Again when they arrived back at the Casa Don Felipe, Ramon took her in his arms and kissed her, and although fully aware that she was playing with fire, subjecting her heart to future pain, she decided it was worth it! The time was now and this was living! She was deliriously happy, living joyously for each and every moment without thought or care for the nebulous void that was the future, and which lay round a bend in life's road where the sun would be shut out for a very long while. But for the present, the sun was warm and bright in a sky of cloudless blue.
Chapter Four
The moon was brilliant on the shimmering sea, the sky filled with stars—millions of them set in a bed of purple velvet that trailed off into the realms of eternity. So vast the arc of the heavens, and frightening!
Paula stood on the verandah of the Hacienda Calzada waiting for Ramon to appear. She had watched the sleekly-blended colours of sunset— golds and russets, pink and coral—dissolve into a sky of deepest purple. The emerald hills had darkened before her eyes; the moon had risen to become enormous; Paula had traced its argent path across the glittering sea to where it sprayed silver on the deserted beach which, in the glaze of the mid-day sun, was dazzling white. She and Ramon had been swimming in the afternoon, then strolled along the shore. She had enjoyed the gentle resilience of sand between her toes, the sun's warmth on her near naked body. She had watched with the first indefinable hint of brooding his eyes devour the contours of her figure, resting on places that brought colour to her cheeks. He had looked his fill, over and over again and as on that first day she had felt like a piece of merchandise being examined for possible flaws before purchase. But she intended to take her pleasure while it lasted, playing with fire, subjecting her heart to excruciating pain in the future when Ramon, having enjoyed this affair with her, would cast her off, as he had cast off so many others who had come before her, and as he would do over and over again in the future.
He came silently up behind her, his hands came beneath her arms to cup her breasts. She turned to face him. His hand beneath her chin tilted it; she stood, quivering at his nearness, her lovely eyes large and pleading, pleading for something more than a mere affair, even while her heart and mind accepted that she had no future with this man whose only interest was in her body, and the pleasure he felt confident he would derive from it. His kiss was the pleasure-pain of temptation, his hands roved, fingers pressing her waist, finding vulnerable places that brought vibrations to her body as if from an electric shock. She made no demure when his hand slipped into the low neckline of her dress to cup one firm high breast within its warmth. Her whole frame quivered as she felt the moving warmth of his other hand stealing down to the lower part of her body, its pressure bringing her to him.
'You're… beautiful!' he whispered in a throaty bass tone. 'I want you, Paula; you must know how much I want you?' He held her from him, looked into eyes dreamy and glazed with desire and a laugh escaped him. 'You want me—say it,' he commanded. 'Don't you dare deny it, Paula!'
Vaguely she wondered if any woman had denied it, when brought almost to surrender by the incredible finesse of his technique.
'No,' she whispered, resting her head against his chest and putting an arm around his neck. 'No, Ramon, I couldn't deny it. You see—' The rest was smothered by his passionate kisses, and her body was swept into a maelstrom of passion she would never have believed possible. No wonder the Latin American man was notorious for his passionate nature.
'Let us go and have dinner,' he said at last, his breathing heavy and erratic. 'No, we must wait a few moments, mustn't we?' His hand was gentle as he touched her hair, putting unruly strands into place, or trying to.
'I'll go and comb it,' she smiled. 'Shall I come back here?'
'No, I shall be in the dining-room.'
Much later they were walking in the garden, and as Paula expected, Ramon stopped in a secluded spot and took her in his arms. Her hands curled against his chest, as if instinctively she would push him away. Yet she was already halfway to surrender, yearning for his lips on hers, his long brown fingers caressing her curves. She could sense the latent force of his passion as he seemed to sway, trapped in the yearning eagerness of her desires, portrayed unashamedly in the arch of her slim young body, the rapt expression in her eyes.
'I want you, Paula…' Briefly he held her from him.
She said nothing. She was drawn into his arms, the impact with his hard, virile body temptation in itself. The pressure of his demanding mouth sent feathery tingles of ecstasy quivering along her spine. Her heart was beating overrate and she knew he must be aware of her heightened emotions. His tongue with determined insistence forced her lips apart and the heady sensation of his exploration into her mouth added fuel to the fire of her longing for him… for moments of bliss… and of folly.
'Paula,' he whispered huskily, 'you're the most desirable woman I have ever met. What is it about you that is different?'
The words which ought to have brought joy, chilled her instead. She leant away from him and words she did not mean to utter left her quivering lips.
'You've had dozens of women?'
'I've had a few,' he answered her casually.
'And now you want me?'
'More than any of the others.'
'How long does an affair usually last with you?'
His mouth twisted contemptuously.
'Until I tire. I find women so very temperamental. They start off resigned to an affair that will end with the inevitable "goodbye, it was nice while it lasted," but then they suddenly decide they want permanency—they want marriage.' He gave a hard laugh, his eyes narrowed and contemptuous. 'Do they suppose a man will accept marriage when he can get all he wants—and plenty of variety—without the obligations which marriage inevitably brings?'
Paula moved out of his arms and away from him. Her face was pale, her mouth twisting convulsively. All the new-born love rose like a floodtide within her and she knew she would let him have an affair with her. Love was like that; it craved fulfilment, and despite the knowledge of a future where regrets must inevitably invade her mind, she desired only to live for the present, to savour the caresses, the expert lovemaking of this distinguished man into whose life she had been catapulted by the caprice of fate.
'You—want me?' she said again, in a faltering voice.
'I want you, yes,' he replied matter-of-factly. She was a small distance from him and he pointed, indicating a spot close to where he was standing. 'Come here,' he ordered, and without a pause she found herself obeying. The dark Spanish eyes were unfathomable as he took her in his arms, tilting her chin as his head came down towards her face. She felt the demanding pressure of his lips, the caress of his exploring hands and every nerve-cell in her body responded, passion rocking her like the force of a storm, while Ramon's rising ardour manifested itself in the urgency of his breathing, the more determined exploration of his hands as they caressed her curves. 'How delightful you are,' he murmured, the feather touch of his lips against her throat. She heard a soft laugh of triumph as the whole yielding length of her body was pressed against him, conveying her need in every sigh and gesture. It was inevitable that she be swept into the fiery torrent of his lovemaking, and as the minutes passed the desire for the supreme joy became torment. She waited, breathless from the forceful demands of his mouth, for him to make the decision. Vaguely she wondered whether they would sleep in her room or his—
She cut her thoughts, for the whole idea seemed crude, suddenly. To indulge in an affair with a man she had known until v
ery recently as her employer, who by his own admission considered women as mere playthings, unworthy of any sensitive consideration. This was the man with whom she was contemplating an affair. Filled with disgust that almost reached nauseating proportions, she broke from him, faced him and said fiercely, 'I'm not having an affair with you, Senor Calzada! Yes, I know what you are going to say—that I was willing just now. You must know of your attraction for women and I was—was carried away, but my common-sense came to my rescue, thank God! And now,' she added, glowering at him, 'there remains only for me to give you my notice. I shall be leaving in a month's time!'
'I might eventually accept your notice. As for there remaining only for you to give me your notice—you're mistaken, my dear. It remains only for me to ask you to be my wife.'
Paula had turned away but at his words she spun around, her eyes dilating, her heart giving a great lurch that set it throbbing against her ribs.
'Wh-what d-did you say?' she stammered, sure she had not heard correctly. 'I th-thought…' Her voice trailed to silence as she spread her hands helplessly. For there was no expression on his face; it might have been a mask of stone, she thought.
'I asked you to marry me,' he told her unemotionally. He seemed a long way from her, his eyes brooding, his lips tight. What was his objective in talking like this? He was not serious. How could he be?
'Is this some kind of a joke?' managed Paula at last. 'If so, then I don't think much of your sense of humour.' Her chin lifted automatically and a sparkle lit her eyes. 'You've just said you don't want marriage because you can get all you want without it—and you can have variety—' She stopped, colour fusing her face. She hadn't meant to add that little bit at all.
'I was referring to other women, not you. It isn't a joke, Paula,' he added seriously, and she caught the conviction in his words. 'I've found you so different from any other woman I have ever known, that I want you for my wife.' He paused a moment to give her the chance to speak. When she remained silent he added softly, 'Haven't I already told you that you are very different from the rest?'
