chapter 4
Rafael changed gear. “We should arrive soon. It must seem forever when it’s new to you. I know every corner, so it’s not too bad for me, in particular when I’m driving.”
Kat said, “It’s no problem. I’m enjoying the scenery.”
She found it difficult to believe they were searching for ways of clinching a deal worth so much money. They’d been thrown together a lot lately, involving an endless amount of work; and more to come. Her father increasingly left decisions to her. In general she worked in sync with Rafael and they made a good team, but sometimes when she looked up, she found Rafael studying her.
She wondered what would have happened, had things been different all those years ago. Would they have stayed together if she hadn’t finished it? Things hadn’t been different though, and she was older and hopefully wiser. Rafael wasn’t a student any longer, and was powerful. Dad was praying he would become their saviour.
They drove over a small rise and a valley opened out before them. Rafael said, “So how does this part of the world grab you? Most people are surprised when they see it.”
“You’re right. It’s beautiful. I was wondering if my mother came from somewhere like this. She was Spanish, you know.”
“I didn’t realise. Where did she come from?”
“I’ve no idea. I hardly remember her.” Kat stifled a yawn. “Gosh, early mornings and long journeys wear me out. I need a shower to freshen up.”
She smoothed her outfit it was decidedly crushed. Maybe she should have worn something more sensible. Francine had persuaded her to wear it. “Advertise what you are,” she’d said. “Be your own walking model, you’re tall, slim, and you’re beautiful. Show off for once.”
The journey had taken the E7 north from Alicante airport, to junction sixty-three, and at the outskirt of Benissa, turned right. Now they were in Valle de Xaló, where they passed almond groves, vineyards, and now fields of citrus; in complete contrast to the scrubland around the airport. Perhaps she could settle in a similar place when work was no longer a panacea.
“We’re not far off,” he said, “We’ll be coming into Alcalali any minute then it’s a small climb into the Sierras.”
The high-powered Lamborghini slowed as they rounded a bend. A small restaurant faced them with people sitting under the shade of huge red parasols with white letters advertising beer. The engine became throaty as they accelerated out of the bend. One or two of people looked up as they passed; an old man waved and Rafael tooted his horn and waved back.
He said, “My great-great-grandpapa bought the place, an old farmhouse. Each generation added their bit. Papá has modernised it to make it more comfortable. In time, I suppose it’ll be mine.”
Kat jolted out of her reverie. “Your place?”
“I shall probably add my mark when the time comes. I’ve a few ideas in mind, mind you, pressure of work means I don’t spend as much time here as I ought. I’m afraid I tend to regard it as a retreat from the bad old world. I only come when I want consoling. Momia always scolds me for not spending more time. Consolation only stretches so far.”
“Your place? We’re going to your family home?”
People wandered through their homes half-dressed. She’d been through it before. In those days she’d sometimes finished undressing him, and after the undressing had been scorching sex. Their cramped quarters had echoed to sounds of pleasure.
“Of course,” Rafael murmured. “You’re my honoured guest. I couldn’t possibly accept any other. I couldn’t let you stay in a faceless hotel.”
Whatever would his mother say? Would she assume something was going on between them? Kat said weakly, “You said we’d be staying at La Hacienda Familiar. You never mentioned your family home. I handed Dad the telephone number of the hotel.”
“La hacienda familiar means the country house of the family, a country retreat if you like. My parents live there most of the time now. I live in Valencia, where they have a town house as well. I have a penthouse in the city centre. Our head office is in Valencia, and a lot of my work is involved there. Papá keeps his finger on the pulse in the factory at this end. The other factories are looked after by managers, but he keeps an eye on them.”
Kat sagged. “I thought the name implied the hotel was well known, familiar to everyone.”
He braked the car as they went into a bend, glanced in the mirror then to her. “Does it make a difference?”
“Of course, it does.”
“I didn’t think it relevant. Anyway, there are few hotels here. I believe there’s one in Parcent and another on the way to Calpe, and vacation hotels in Calpe centre, but guests stay with us.”
Katrina took a deep breath, she was silly. The last thing she wanted was to appear unsophisticated. Wasn’t she always in control, isn’t that what friends envied, her ability to remain composed no matter what the crisis?
She took another breath. It didn’t stop her fears about staying with his parents though.
They drove through an avenue of huge conifers swaying ungainly in the wind, reminding Kat of Italy. Rafael said, “I absolutely adore this place. I feel as if part of me is welded to it.” He changed gear as they came to a short incline. The engine growled then steadied as they careered over the rise.
Pine trees ran all the way down a deep abyss hugging the side of the road. She peered to get a better view. “It’s gorgeous,” she agreed. “I hadn’t realised Spain would be like this. I thought of it as beaches and high-rise apartments.”
“Everyone thinks the same, but this land is raw. Every bend brings something new. I adore it. Its only when I come home that I realise how much I miss it.”
He sounded ebullient. If she hadn’t been annoyed about staying at his home, she might have caught his mood, but she was, and she didn’t. She said, “I can see why. I suppose I’d be the same if I were in your position.”
“There’s the place, Kat.” He touched her hand. “Right there in the distance.”
She had her first glimpse of the majestic villa set in an area of deep ravines, steep rising crags, and land cloaked in trees. She let out an involuntary gasp, “That’s stunning.”
“I’m not going to take you straight in.” He swung the car off the road. “We’ll take the back road, it’s more picturesque.” They followed an unmade track and the villa disappeared. Rafael pulled off the track and parked between trees. He cut the engine. “Let’s walk. It’s the only way to see the place properly. You get far more out of it on foot.”
“I’d like that.”
He manoeuvred his long legs out of the car and went around and held open her door. The temperature outside, was a shock after the air-conditioned car. He saw her reaction and grinned disarmingly. “Don’t worry it’ll cool once the sun has gone. At this time of year it’s hot during the day, but can be cold at night. We often have heating on after sunset.”
He walked into a small clearing and she followed.
Sunlight filtered through the trees creating intricate patterns. Apart from their deadened footsteps there was little sound, as if she had lost her sense of hearing.
They halted. Kat did a three hundred and sixty degree turn, and filled with awe. The day was magnificent, a spring day, where the air was filled with resurgence. High overhead, insignificant vapours drifted in an otherwise clear sky. Sunlight dazzled, new life burst from every twig, every bush.
Kat said softly, “This is extraordinary.” She tilted her head back, closed her eyes and tried to soak up the ambience. “The silence hits you, doesn’t it? There’s barely a sound, like being in a cathedral. It makes me feel small.”
“I know. It gets me every time.”
“And just get a whiff of that.” Kat filled her lungs. “It smells as if someone has scrubbed it clean.”
“It’s pine. The air is thick with it now. You should have seen it a few weeks ago, yellow pollen all over the place. Everything gets smothered, the patios, furniture in the house, and plays the devil with the pool-filter. I don’t suppose it would’ve done a lot of good for hay-fever, either.” Rafael picked up a dead branch and flung it from the path and rubbed his hands clean. “I know every dot of this place,” he said. “Every shrub and tree. I grew up here. I intend to die here.”
She followed him to the top of a small rise and they were in the open. In front of them, set in tortured folds of limestone was the villa. Beneath the bowl of the sky it looked majestic. The villa was the proudest thing Kat had ever seen. It had a personality of its own. She would probably have guessed to whom it belonged. Somehow the place had become stamped on Rafael.
“Come on,” he shouted and jogged down the steep path. “Last one in makes coffee.”
Kat let him go. She watched the lone figure running down the track. Rafael was out of sight now and she proceeded at her own pace.
The full spread of the villa was partially hidden by trees but as she went further, it appeared in all of its grandeur. When in full view, she stood quite still. She understood why Rafael wanted her to see it this way.
Surrounding the villa was a high courtyard wall, and dotted on the wall, bright geraniums in clay pots. Sometimes, a splash of purple bougainvillea sprawled over. Undulant terracotta tiles capped the wall, a few of them broken. Securing the entrance were huge, ornate, black iron gates, with gold ferrules.
Through the gates she could see a cobbled patio and a single gnarled, twisted olive tree. It looked as ancient as the hills. The tree had a low circular wall surrounding it that might be pleasant to sit on to catch the shade when the sun became too much. Beyond the tree a fountain splashed, water from it finding the sun, making bright diamonds in the air. A fitting retreat for one of Spain’s richest fashion doyennes.
Kat arrived at the door of the kitchen and went in. It seemed dark after the strong sunlight and she blinked to adjust her sight.
“What took you so long?” Rafael spread himself on a chair with his feet propped high on another. Irately, she realised he was amused.
“Frankly I don’t see what’s funny,” she said. “What will your mother say when she knows that you’ve brought along a guest? I don’t suppose for one moment you thought to warn her.”
“I don’t think she’ll be particularly bothered. She’ll be relaxing in our vacation home on Tenerife. Momia will almost certainly have reserved the theatre this evening, and will have no thought of me whatsoever. Papá will probably be taking an early glass of Soberano and Momia, a chilled Mistela, and they’ll be sitting on the terrace.”
She said warily, “We’re alone?”
He gave a peculiar look, frowned for a moment as if he’d only just realised the implication. Running fingers through his hair, he sat forward. “Momia is a fussy old bird,” he said, erratically, as if fighting some inner demon. “Likes things done right. The Mistela muscatel has to be pressed in the bodegas of Xaló or she won’t even touch it.”
Kat said, “We’re going to be alone? Please tell me this is a joke.” His face told her it wasn’t. How could she trust herself to be alone with him? She said softly, “Don’t you think it’s a little imprudent Rafael?”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I’ll take you into the house and you can freshen up. You can shower if you wish.”
He strode off. The way he’d looked few seconds ago, spooked her. Kat stared after him. The self-conscious male student she’d once known was long gone. Confidence oozed from him, and Jeez, it made her roused.
He stopped to speak, and eyes danced over her. She knew the provocative fabric would cling, being aware made it worse. She wished she’d put on something less revealing. Would it give him the wrong idea?
“I have the impression another Kat is struggling for the surface.” His lips compressed dangerously. “But there’s work to do. You’re a good designer; we’re a strong and competitive company; together we can be great.”
Arousal and praise, a fiery blend that made her insides squiggly. She said, “Look, I don’t even know if I can give you what you want.”
“Isn’t that one of the things we’re here to determine?” He indicated for her to follow, and walked off.
She followed him along a corridor, and up a flight of stairs, glad of the opportunity to compose herself. He took her into a large semi-circular bedroom. Along the curved wall were a couple of windows, with wooden shutters that opened in, between these, a dressing table. A huge bed stood by the straight wall.
She walked to the dressing table, and ran her hands over it. Beneath the table, a rug sprawled over a tiled floor. The rug might have been dignified once, but had faded with age. Several watercolours of the gardens and house, hung on the walls. She thought the room tasteful, and said approvingly, “It’s quite beautiful.”
“Thank you. I think so. We’ve hardly changed a thing. The bed is new, a reproduction of the original, as is the chair by the dressing table; mostly its how it was more than a hundred years ago. We’ve added an ensuite, it’s through that door.”
She moved to a window. On the slopes of the sierra were vineyards, in the grounds below, a summerhouse with thatched roof, gold in the light. The garden was quiet, empty. She said, “It’s very peaceful.”
“I’m glad you like it but don’t let it fool you. The mountains can be dangerous. We have our share of things go wrong. People bleed here the same as everywhere else.”
She went out onto the balcony to inspect it and leaned to better see the vineyard. Rafael rested his back against the rail. He produced a key. “For the lock between our rooms so you’ll feel safe. We’ve never got around to bricking the connecting doorway, but it’s probably jammed with paint. It hasn’t been opened for years.”
“You’re in the next room.”
“Yes. That’s my balcony there.”
Kat stiffened. She would hear every move he made, every toss and turn. How could she sleep knowing how close he was?
He must have seen her look of dismay because he said irritably, “You have no reason to be concerned about me. You have the keys to your doors, and bolts on the doors if you think you need them.”
She tried to stare him out, but he held her gaze. It wasn’t Rafael she was concerned about, it was herself. She couldn’t tell him though; he’d like nothing more than to know the effect he had on her.
He said quietly, “I can see what’s going through your mind. If you think this is a setup, you’re wrong. Aliaga has elected to put you in here because it’s the most comfortable room. The choice was hers, no one else’s.” He spun toward the door. “I’ll bring your things up if you’d like to make yourself comfortable.”
He closed the door and Kat sank onto the bed. This was doing her head in. She would be glad when it was over. Would she find the tenacity to hold him off, if the need came?
Rafael returned, arms laden with luggage. A woman followed, carrying the lighter things. He put the cases down. “This is Señora Juanita Aliaga. She looks after the house and her husband does the gardens for us. They have rooms at the end of the corridor. For the sake of propriety,” he added sarcastically. “My mother wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Señora Aliaga held out her hand. “Buenos tardes señorita Bligh. Bienvenido. I do hope your stay will be pleasant.”
Kat said, “Thank you for bringing my things.”
“De nada.”
Kat took the offered hand but there was no welcome in it. The woman’s unpleasant eyes studied her briefly then became vacant.
Señora Aliaga went out of the room then returned and placed a bunch of fresh flowers in a vase by the window and arranged them before leaving.
“She doesn’t like the idea of me staying here,” Kat said after she’d gone.
“Nonsense! She’s wary of strangers that’s all.”
Kat shook her head, it was more than that. Whatever, it mattered little. Nothing would change.
Rafael said, “I thought we might dine out tonight. The Puerto Blanco is quite good. It’s a restaurant by the old port in Calpe, not far from here. Or we could go into Xaló. The Salamanca is excellent. I eat there regularly.”
“I thought I’d come here to work.”
“We have to eat,” he shrugged. “Why not enjoy it? You should learn to relax. In Spain, we work hard, we play hard, the same as we did at university, remember?”
“University?” She shot him a glance from beneath her lashes. “Exactly what’s going through your mind?”
In this light, with broken nose, and Latin hair, he looked almost as he had all those years ago. His passion had been wild then, matching his appearance, a brigand, and there had been a frantic urge in her to discover everything about him. Rafael continually found new ways to excite her, and she’d fallen for him quite hopelessly.
Until they met, her experience of sex had been limited to adolescent fumbles and hard-fingered gropes. She’d wondered at times what the excitement was all about, until she found Rafael and discovered that sex could be mind-blowing. Following him, there had been affairs, but none had offered the depth of passion he had.
The intensity was the reason their relationship had to end. Her emotions had become too heavy; he had been too close. Under no circumstance, could she allow it to continue. She simply ended it, maybe too abruptly, but it had to happen.
Rafael was terse. “You’re tired after the journey. I’ll let you rest. You’ll feel better after then we can talk again.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “I’m not here as a sop to your ego, Kat. This isn’t a game. I want no attention seeking.”
Kat’s brown eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Don’t dare patronize me, Rafael Saval.” She drew herself up to her full five feet seven. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t want attention off you. I wouldn’t want it if you were the last person alive. Now if you’ll excuse me I shall go for a walk.”
She flounced from the room, legs trembling with vexation. How dare he suggest she was after attention? She strode with military rigidity through the maze of corridors and out into the sunlight.
With the sun on her face she turned onto a path, which allowed her to walk among the trees, humiliated, angry. She wasn’t playing games. Why couldn’t he see her point of view? Kat unpinned her long russet hair and let it cascade over her face.
She wandered miserably along the trail. The ground felt springy underfoot. The track, a mingling of earth and pine needles, made a soft cushion. In the woods, in the lee of the huge limestone sierras, it became shadowy and she eventually turned for the safety of the sunlight.
She was confused. On the one hand, her ego soared when Rafael recognized her talent; on the other he made her feel stupid.
Kat halted on the peak of the ridge. The wind whipped at her, and she stood for a moment, head thrown back, face high, enjoying the feel of hair tossing wildly.
On all sides, sierras were as ragged as torn paper. A chasm plunged in front. She hadn’t realised she’d come so far. To the north, sierras swept into valleys dotted with villages; to the west, more peaks; below, the snaking bed of a dry river.
The scene was harsh and beautiful, but this place belonged to Rafael, and at the moment, anything to do with him was low on her list. She didn’t want to like it. She sighed and flopped onto the ground. The place contrasted sharply with the ugliness of her thoughts. It wasn’t the setting to be thinking such things.
***
The next day brought a change to the weather. Kat heard rain drumming as she awoke, but didn’t realise how bad. She opened the internal wooden shutters, and a barrage of water thrashed the glass. She took an involuntary step back. In the distance, forked lightning licked at the sierras. The solid pine shutters not only kept the room in darkness, they’d deadened the noise as well.
Kat dressed, trying to take her mind off the storm. She hated storms. They filled her with incomprehensible emotions and memories. Storms made her sad. They often gave her nightmares, though she had no idea why.
She chose her new silky blue pants gathered into delicate pleats at the waist, and a top with a sweetheart neckline. She examined herself in the mirror. She looked good, and felt good. Not to impress, she told herself, but because she happened to like the outfit.
Rafael was already eating as she went downstairs. He said expansively, “Es la tortilla Española for breakfast. It’s warming under the grill. Señora Aliaga has the day off so we’ll have to fend for ourselves. I’ve made it.”
“I’m quite capable.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. But I happened to be up first and did it.”
Rain lashed the door, and Rafael glanced at the time. “Damn! I wonder how long it’ll be like this. This wasn’t forecast. It can take us by surprise sometimes. The geography of the sierras and sea plays the very devil with weather.”
Katrina watched as he pushed back his chair and stood. He wore a loose shirt that allowed a glimpse of chest as he turned to pick up his plates. Dressed like that, he looked rugged. He’d never realised how enticing it was, even as a student.
He said. “Well we came here to work and it looks as though it’s the only thing that nature is going to allow. When you’ve finished eating, there are things we need to talk over. We’ll make our way to the factory later if the rain eases, but there’s no sense in getting soaked.”
Close contact with him today, was one thing she couldn’t handle. Looking the way he did she was going to need all her wits to keep her thoughts from straying. Today she didn’t feel as if she had the wit. She took a steadying breath. “No,” she said. “I’ll work alone. It’ll give me chance to understand what’s wanted.”
He arched a brow. “Unless you convince me otherwise, we’ll do it my way.”
“And what makes you think you’re so right?”
He disregarded her and walked to the door. “I’ll be in the library when you’re ready.”
She strode to the grill and served herself some of tortilla. She took her time over breakfast, but eventually could put it off no longer, and with a sigh went to join him.
“Ah! Good.” He patted the seat by his side. “I’ll come straight to the point. You’re a sharp designer, Kat. However, Papá’s opinion is that the business hasn’t been handled well. I need to get my head around it.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I was hoping you might be able to offer a few pointers. Some strange practices have been used.”
“How dare you!”
His eye flicked up. He said quietly, “I dare, because that’s what I’m here to do.”
Kat scowled. “This is my Dad’s company you’re talking about.”
He sat back, “In general, success is brought about by proper planning and by delegation, and Finery & Frocks hasn’t had it.”
“You can’t say that? You know very little about our company.”
“Well for a start, without warning your father has dumped everything onto your shoulders. That isn’t delegation, that’s copping-out, but I’m afraid I still need answers, and you’re johnny-on-the spot.”
Instead of sitting by his side, she sat opposite, frigid. He studied her inquiringly, stood, brought a pile of papers, moved to her side, and sat.
Kat’s fingers fluttered nervously. They were too close. He invaded her space. She edged away, but he edged closer. Why did her stomach feel so damned compressed? She budged away again, furious.
He said, “You seem to have developed a problem. Has someone hurt you? You were never like this before.”
Kat refused to look at him. “I don’t do close contact,” she said carefully, “Perhaps I need to remind you, Rafael. We drifted apart. Had you forgotten? I only do close when I’m comfortable with people.”
“Drifted? Did we drift?”
“Of course.”
“It didn’t seem that way to me. I recall being dumped. This isn’t some stranger you’re talking about. You left with no explanation, no reason. What was I supposed to think, Kat? What was I supposed to do?”
Kat blinked to stop her eyes stinging. How the hell could she tell him that she’d finished with him because she’d wanted him too much? How could she say that her tangled emotions had threatened to take over, that simply being with him had sucked away her life force?
She kept her voice even. “We just weren’t meant for each other. You might be able to kid yourself, but I know my feelings simply altered and I thought yours had too.”
“That’s rubbish.”
“If I was wrong, then I’m sorry, but I can’t help that. Don’t expect me to concoct something, just to soften it for you. Not after all these years.”
“There’s something going on here and I can’t work out what.”
Kat squeezed her eyes tight shut. Her emotions had to be kept tightly screwed down. She said dully, “I have no idea what you’re on about? I don’t know why you keep bringing it up; I feel absolutely indifferent.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course.”
Without warning, Rafael kissed her, and his hand found her breast. For a moment, Kat was stunned. Abruptly she slapped his face. “How dare you.”
He cupped her chin between his hands and forced her to look at him. “That’s more like it. Call on everything you’ve felt, good or bad; mix it and throw it at me as hard as you like, but don’t smother your fire and say you’re indifferent. Emotions are too precious.”
“You sound like a bloody college professor. I’m not smothering fire.”
“Then why are you indifferent?”
“You have too high an opinion of yourself. Your ideas are no concern of mine.”
“You’re fooling yourself.”
“You’re an egotistical knob-head.”
He grinned. “That’s better.”
“And you would be a better if you realised you aren’t top of everyone’s thoughts. The idea might be difficult to grasp, but try it sometime.”
“Be angry if you like. Be incensed! The one thing you must never be is indifferent. Not about me, not about anything. Everything has vitality.”
“Go stuff yourself.”
“As one of life’s architects, you must always feel empathy.”
“I have empathy, you knob. You’re confusing indifference with apathy. I just don’t harbour any feelings for you.”
“Don’t you? And I think you’re confusing want with desire. You might not want to, but you still desire me.”
“You shit!”
He pulled her to him and kissed her again. Kat felt his erection pushing against her like a trapped animal bursting to get out. A thrill swept through her.
“My God, Kat,” Rafael whispered hoarsely. “You’re exquisite. I’d forgotten how much.”
In desperation, Kat tried to push him away, tried to pull her top into place, but he was having none of it. Rafael leaned and touched a sensitive nipple. She heard her breath catch in her throat and could do nothing but clutch him. It was as if time had stood still. They were still together; the world had not moved on.
He tugged at her silky blue pants, and, balanced on the edge of the seat, she unconsciously wriggled out of them. Why had she done that?
He knelt in front of her. His lips went to her thighs, to the susceptible area on her inner leg that so excited her. He remembered! With the tip of his finger, he stroked the petite thong she wore. Allowing it would only encourage him, yet she could do nothing to prevent it. She opened her legs wider. He leaned forward, and pulled the skimpy material aside.
Kat fought for air, as if a rubber band squeezed her chest.
She couldn’t help herself, lifted her legs over his shoulders, wriggled closer to him. Gently, he parted the secret folds of skin then pushed his tongue deep into her moist body.
Astonishing sensations scurried through her. This shouldn’t be happening. Not now. Never.
Kat clung to her last dregs of reserve, and pulled his face from the confluence of her body. She dragged a trembling hand over her forehead. Had she provoked him? She had allowed herself to accept him appalling easily.
She had to be dignified. She couldn’t let him see how badly it affected her. She said shakily, “Please don’t.”
She took her legs from his shoulders and he sat up. She said, “This is a terrible mistake, Rafael.”
“Sometimes an artistic force can release tremendous empathy in a person.” Rafael’s voice became thick with emotion. “I sense that force inside you. Don’t you?”
“A force inside me? Is that what you were feeling for?” Kat clutched her silk pants; avoided his eyes, carefully covered the moist petals of skin that had been brought to life by his magic. The force generated in her had nothing to do with art. The intoxicating urge had been managed fine until now. She had to regain control somehow.
She desperately dragged in a lungful of air. “I don’t believe I have the force. I don’t even know if this project is worth carrying forward. I think we should stop.”
She pulled her trousers back on.
“Then you’re a lost soul. You’re a fool, Katrina Bligh, a damn fool.”
Air stuck in her throat. The passion spilling from him threatened to overwhelm them. She wanted to reach out, to reassure him, to tell him that she still needed him. She could never allow it to happen though. Her voice was shaky. “A lost soul, because I have no flair for satisfying your sexual urge? Is that what you mean?”
He stood and strode to the door. “No. I mean lost if you don’t make full use of your artistic force. The talent you have with your body has never been in question.”