Masquerade (37 page)

‘Have you been sailing long?’ she asked.

‘Yes, Eduardo bought me my first dinghy when I was thirteen. Whenever I had a quarrel with my parents or was upset, I used to sail out to sea. All the anger seemed to disappear magically. The sea’s so huge, the sky so immense, it felt like somehow nothing else mattered.’ He had taken off his glasses and Luz saw a look of sadness had crept into his eyes. She wondered what it was that haunted him.

They spoke of the wind and the sea, but were conscious of each other. Once or twice, Luz looked up at Andrés and their gazes fused: his, intense and ablaze like the great orb descending towards the horizon; hers, blue and deep as the vast ocean they were sailing.

On the way back, the boat hugged the coast until they reached the secluded beach in the cove of Puesta de Sol. Afloat in twilit waters, sliding across the setting sun, they watched an orange sunset flow like molten gold behind the cliffs, while along the bay the lights of Cádiz twinkled on. Dazzling colours filled the sky. Lonely white clouds turned into flaming swords, deep orange and red marking the west; the peak of the many rocky hills rose like church steeples, shooting forth tongues of flame from the reflecting sundown. In the distance the sinking orb gilded the houses of Cádiz with a special fleeting glory, their windows winking and flashing in the fading sun. Small vessels and steamers were moored alongside the quays; work was over for the day, everything still and tranquil. Soul stirring, the scene was all poetry and romance, depth and mystery.

As the small boat approached the shallow waters of the beach, the shadows were dying out in the twilight and the pale evening star shone in the sky. Wave upon wave broke in showers of spray against the immense cliffs that rose to the left and right of the secret place. Andrés jumped out first and helped Luz climb down on to the sand. They secured the boat, tying it to a stake with the mooring rope. As they came round the other side of an outcrop of rock, she was surprised to
see that a canvas gazebo had been set up on the beach a few yards away from them. Slowing her pace, Luz’s enquiring eyes looked silently up at Andrés: this seemed much more than just a place to swim.

He grinned. ‘The night is still young,’ he said mildly as he shot her a sideways glance.

She looked doubtful, the voice of wisdom in her head whispering to her again. ‘I think I should be getting home.’

He walked ahead and turned. The smoky eyes settled on her. ‘Don’t think, Luz, just enjoy.’

That would suit you to perfection
, she thought, and in that precise moment, she had to admit, it suited her, too. She stared at the man standing before her in the lambent light, a man women would die for, a man the mere touch of whom sent her body, her senses, her mind and her soul into exquisite chaos. There was no use struggling against it; one way or another, she knew deep down that fate would deliver her into Andrés’ arms.

‘Why not?’ she breathed enticingly on a little rush of laughter.

‘That’s the spirit,’ he said and promptly popped open the bottle of champagne that lay waiting for them in a bucket on the table.

Everything had been set for a candlelit dinner for two. Andrés had planned it all down to the smallest detail, which in this case was a not-so-small blow-up sofa that stood in the shelter of the gazebo on the sand. He followed her eyes. Now it was her turn to glance at him sideways. He gave her a sheepish smile.

‘Just in case …’

‘Yes?’ she prompted, eyeing him quizzically. She wanted him, but she was not going to allow herself to be pushed into it. Not that she needed to be. Still, he had to understand that.

Andrés shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Luz. Juan or one of the staff probably thought they were doing right. You know, making the place more homely.’

‘So long as you don’t expect me to …’

His face grew serious at her slightly clipped tone and he gently cupped her chin with his hand, his thumb momentarily skimming
her lips. ‘Have I not told you before that I will never do anything you don’t want?’

Luz nodded, locked in his gaze. As he took his hand away, her mouth tingled where he had touched her.

‘I stand by my word,’ Andrés said, and Luz knew he meant what he said. There was a sense of offended pride radiating from him that made her believe whatever happened would be entirely of her choosing. A warm smile replaced his frown. ‘And now, shall we drink to that resolution and enjoy our dinner?’

Luz smiled back and nodded. ‘Actually, I think I could manage something to eat, yes.’

They laughed and sat down at the table, laden with exquisite silver and fine china, printed with details of delicate red-gloved hands tangled in a twisting pattern of green leaves and branches, which he explained had been designed by Eduardo.

As they sipped the cold champagne and savoured a large bowl of lobster, artichoke, potato and chive salad, both took care to keep the conversation light, never once verging on the deeply personal. They talked about their hobbies, their work, travels … anything, in fact, but what was on their minds.

Long after the sun had gone down to light other worlds, a small breeze started up; the night was cool now. Andrés slipped on a red cashmere sweater and offered Luz a blue one. At first she refused, but the camel-coloured jacket she had brought with her proved cumbersome and so she graciously accepted. Dressed in a garment that was his, impregnated with the familiar medley of aromas so obviously him, it was as if she were wrapped up in his arms. The disguised intimacy conjured up all sorts of images and sensations that made her head swim. Candlelight rendered the dark planes of his narrow face, his elegant features and those sensual curved lips even more dramatic. She found it difficult to look into his eyes: they were now too readable, mirroring her own thoughts, sending her into further chaos.

The stars had come out in the dark canopy of the sky, large and flashing as they gazed warmly down upon them. The silver crescent of
the first moon was just visible as it competed shyly with the brightness of the other celestial bodies; the sea a plum black and darkly aloof. They were together in this lonely place, highly aware of each other, the world lost to them, eaten up and absorbed into the cavern of night.

‘A glass of Manzana Verde or Licor 43?’ Andrés asked. ‘Or maybe you would prefer a Cognac, my favourite?’

‘I’ll have a very small Licor 43, please,’ Luz heard herself say against her better judgement. She had drunk more than she usually did and knew another glass would only reduce her already dulled inhibitions but she felt reckless tonight. It had been such a perfect day all round and she did not want it to end. Secretly, she was waiting, no,
hoping
that he would take her in his arms; his feigned aloofness – she was well aware that he was holding back – was killing her. Andrés was trying to prove that he was quite capable of letting her leave tonight without laying a finger on her.

He poured a shot of Licor 43 for her, two fingers of Cognac for himself and lit a cigarette. Then he stood at the entrance to the gazebo, sipping his drink quietly, his profile to her, looking up at the sky. He was still in his skimpy swimming briefs but the soft red sweater covered his hips. Not for the first time her eyes took in his broad shoulders and the strong muscles of his thighs; it took some effort to keep up a bit of meaningless conversation.

‘How nice to have your own beach.’

‘Yes, it is … nice.’ He looked back at her, his eyes glowing with amusement.

‘You must enjoy the privacy.’

‘Yes, particularly tonight.’ Seeing his mouth curve up, she sipped her drink again.

‘The meal was perfect and I must make a note of Eduardo’s china.’

But the light cross talk seemed foolish. The air around them quivered with the wild emotion that was taking possession of them and clamoured for some outward expression.

‘Come here,’ he whispered suddenly, looking up at the night sky again. ‘It’s a first moon.’ The faint possessive note in his voice and the
way her mind and body reacted to it brought Luz a new awareness of her vulnerability. Now was the time to leave if ever she wanted to save herself from this man. For the first time in her life, she regretted her limited experience of men. She said nothing and remained seated. He turned to rest his eyes on her candlelit face. Fascinated by the burning look in his dark, dark irises, which galvanized to the surface an answering emotion within her, Luz waited breathlessly. His stare was full of so many emotions she could not read. After what seemed an eternity, he held out his hand to her. The devouring flames of his gaze engulfed her and once again she was lost.

She went to him, heart pounding tumultuously. Tomorrow she might regret what was about to happen, but tonight she did not want to think about the future: she would live for the moment and embrace wholeheartedly the night’s promise. She turned her face up to him and they gazed at each other.

‘Look up at the new moon, make a wish and it will come true within a year,’ he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. She glanced upwards and stared wistfully at the silver crescent. Would the Queen of the Night really grant her heart’s desire?

Andrés put his arm around her, drawing her close against the length of his body. ‘I can’t resist any more, it’s too much to ask of a man.’ His voice was hoarse and suddenly edged with a raw emotion that made Luz quiver.

Their mouths were inches apart and she knew that she should pull away but she could not. Suddenly she she was unable to remember why she had been keeping Andrés at arm’s length.

‘Tell me you don’t want me to touch you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Tell me you don’t want me to taste you all over, that you don’t want me to pleasure you.’ His breath against her ear was warm, his voice as dark as the desires he aroused, his hands febrile as he stroked her back, sending tingling shocks up and down her spine. Luz did not need more to feel the ache of her need surge up with unbearable urgency. She leaned into him with a little moan, her eyes closed.

Scooping her up, he carried her to the sofa. He helped her pull off the sweater and very slowly peeled away the top and the bottom of her bikini, the last hindrance to what he had been waiting for: she was finally there, lying naked. For a long moment Andrés looked down at her, his eyes burning. They rested lovingly on her face and moved down to her throat, where a telltale vein throbbed steadfastly, then slowly to the taut pink nipples of her firm round breasts and fleetingly over her tight flat stomach, to finally come to rest on the small dark triangle between her thighs.

‘Dios mio,
you are beautiful, Luz. Your body would drive a saint to drink,’ he murmured. The throbbing of his most intimate part bore blatant witness to his own fiery need.

Her eyes grew wider, their sapphire colour almost black with longing as she devoured his statuesque tanned and muscled body. She held her arms out to him, her irises dilated, flesh quivering.

He moved slowly and rested his lithe strong frame on his side next to her, propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. Uncontrolled tremors shook her as his warmth came into contact with her skin. Wet heat throbbed between her legs and her eyelids fluttered down. He had barely started and she was ready for him.

‘Tell me it’s me that you want,’ he said, his mouth near her ear again.

‘Andrés …?’ she breathed, her body moving restlessly, craving him to touch her.

‘Tell me you want me, Luz,’ he rasped deeply.

What was he saying? Could he not see how much she wanted him?
There was an expression in his eyes of uncaged desire, of hunger, and a need borne of something else altogether. And then she realized that he wanted her to admit her desire for him, to say it out loud.

‘Yes, Andrés, Yes, I want you. Please … take me now.’

She was so close to the edge he would not need to touch her to bring her to climax. His look, his words alone, had the power do so.

Despite the hunger burning inside her, Luz’s heart filled with gratitude, banishing the last fragments of her reservation. ‘I’m not a virgin,’ she murmured. ‘You wouldn’t be compromising me.’

She was mesmerized by him and as his head came down, his mouth finally claimed hers in a profound, caressing kiss. Then lifting it once again, he looked deep into her eyes. ‘Virgin or not,
querida
,’ he muttered in a soft voice, ‘you are pure and innocent,
una paloma blanca
… and I love you.’

Her gaze flew to his, her heart fit to burst. ‘But you don’t understand, you don’t know. I …’ she continued, deciding to be truthful. She did not want to deceive him, even if it meant … she ached for him so much, she could not bear to think of the consequences of her confession.

He silenced her with his hot demanding kiss. ‘Shush,
querida
,’ he murmured feverishly. ‘Let me please you and love you the way I want to. No woman has ever inflamed my senses so much, I’m obsessed by you. I live and breathe only you.’ He began dropping butterfly kisses down her cheek to her neck.

‘Just give yourself up to me and I’ll take you to stratospheres you have never dreamed of,’ he whispered against her burning skin. ‘Let me kiss you, stroke you, taste you. Let me satisfy your body and your soul with sweetness beyond your imagination.’

She was breathing faster, his words threatening to push her over the edge; she could feel the waves coming, trembling at the edge of the cliff. Helplessly she closed her eyes and surrendered to him.

‘You are made to be desired and loved. Look into my eyes and relax; don’t touch me, just enjoy what I’m going to do to you,’ he ordered huskily. ‘If you want me to stop, if I’m not pleasing you, just say the word and I will.’

She heard the emotion in his voice and saw it in the glowing fires of his irises as his large hand began its sensual journey over her skin. It moved over her breasts, his touch light, just brushing at first, then as they firmed, his expert fingers drew a circle around the little pink peaks, toying with them briefly until they lifted proudly, eager to be stroked; then his palm moved downwards, lingering on the warm flesh of her bare stomach.