chapter 8
The takeover was complete, her father happy, which meant she was happy too.
Kat drowsily smiled at the agreeable sensation of Rafael’s arm on her body as he slept. She had to admit she cared for him, yet if someone asked her to explain why, she couldn’t. It probably amounted to a collection of trivia, which by themselves would seem nothing, but when put together became him, his soul. A faint smile touched her lips. A grand theory if ever she had one.
She understood him and he understood her. Billy Mellor couldn’t have been more wrong.
She looked at the paintings on the wall, considered them one by one; studied folds of immaculate silk curtains, eventually turned to look at him. She inhaled his inviting man-smell to commit him to memory, touched the stubble on his jaw, didn’t want to wake him yet wanted to touch.
Looking and touching turned her on too much though. She didn’t want to be turned on by herself, and she closed her eyes to quench the sensation. He stirred. Satin bedclothes moved over her skin as he turned, an arm around her now, a single eye open, focusing, a crumpled smile.
“Hi!” he said sleepily. “You look good.”
He stretched, barely roused from sleep. His gruff, morning-voice trickled warmly to her belly; another thing she liked about him, his sexy voice. She wanted to tell him what he did to her, but not yet. She snuggled into his contour.
He said, “You feel good too!”
His lips brushed hers. She didn’t move. He was too gentle, not yet awake. She wanted him to be possessive, wanted his mouth on her body, his tongue on her, his hands caressing and exploring. She wanted his weight flattening her until she became breathless.
He yawned. “Do you always feel so good in a morning?”
Kat kissed the tip of his nose. “Do you always talk so much?”
She put her hands on his buttocks, and he shuddered. Kat allowed a private smile, still amazed at the power she had.
He became aroused and the fact made her aroused.
He said, gruff. “Kiss me.”
She did, and made it obvious what she wanted.
He became fully awake and rolled on top of her. She thrust her legs apart and he at once entered her. He filled her, a conduit of heat spreading deep into her core and up into her cranium.
Kat closed her eyes to designs, drawing, and complex blueprints, instead, saw sex.
She thought in that instant she perceived life clearly, and understood its mysteries. She wrapped her legs around him, drew him as deep into her, as she could. They were fierce together, as if time would end before they finished; hungry for sex, quick and thrust. No time for niceties, greedy for sex.
Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms. Rafael stoked her hair. He said, “I’m selfish, I don’t want to let go of you. You’re special and I’m going to do everything to make you want to stay.”
“How do you think you can do that?”
“I’ll find a way.” He shrugged. “I’ve never known anyone like you. You’re different. You’re vital, living. You give as you get. I gave you my soul and felt you gave me yours.”
She smiled.
He said, “Was I right?”
She pulled herself up and knelt across him. She kissed him on his mouth, his eyes and throat, moved down, kissed his belly. He became aroused again and wanted to take over, but she held him down, made him lie still. She put her hand down, opened her wet vagina with her fingers and with her other hand put his penis inside her. She started to slowly move against him, determined to attain the greatest sensation she could. This one was for her.
Afterward they showered together, but too exhausted to face the day, they went back to sleep.
Kat immersed herself in work. Days became weeks. From some inner well, she extracted touches she had not thought possible; perhaps because of Rafael, perhaps herself, whatever, she was pleased and he proud.
She became utterly absorbed in the project and her confidence expanded. The new lines were revamped, ideas changed. Time and again, they went over the way the inaugural presentation should be made. Francine had been drafted in to arrange and manage the show for them, but they wanted every detail to be correct.
Kat flew back to England for a short time, making sure that Finery & Frocks ran smoothly. The private showing in Valencia loomed, and Rafael wanted to use it as a springboard to show the fashion world what they could do. Buyers from some exclusive stores had been invited, and media, of course. Several eminent fashion accessory houses had been persuaded to add their unique adornments; shoes from Julian Prego, and handbags from Guise. Karen Carver, the new wonder-girl from Essex, had some delightful belts and jewellery to offer.
Kat still had loads of work left to do. Both the revised Las Modas Ibéricas lines and Italian Concept had to be immaculate. Rafael’s papá desperately wanted Las Modas Ibéricas to be recognized as a force in the fashion world once more, but Rafael wanted to introduce the lines slowly.
Provided Valencia was a success, he wanted to hit the European circuit. Such high-level exposure was new to Kat, and even the thought of the preparations wore her out, but he would join her soon. His flight, due in around an hour, meant he’d be with her in about two and a half, the telling signs of exhilaration building already.
She recognized a difference in her compositions, but it had been damn hard work. She was growing, her outlook changing, a confidence born from what she learned about herself. This was down to Rafael.
The telephone rang and woke her from the reverie. She glanced at her watch, surely not Rafael yet? Not now? He wouldn’t call from the ‘plane. She picked up the receiver.
Francine’s voice at the other end brimmed with high spirits. “Baby I’m so full; I could talk for a year. I’ve just returned from Japan. I got in last night and I’ve slept all day. I rang your number in Spain but they said you were here.”
“Yes I’ve loads of work to finish. We’ll have to get-together whilst I’m over. I need to go through the details for the show. Is everything on schedule at your end?”
“Of course, baby, of course… but I have to tell you how fabulous Japan is. I enjoyed every minute, and I mean every minute. Wow, so many men. I wanted them all. And guess what, I’ve landed another tour. Tell you what, how about we go out for a drink tonight to celebrate. My treat.”
Rafael would be landing soon. They hadn’t seen each other for days. Dining with Fran was the last thing she wanted, and she knew Rafael would be irked. He hadn’t said as much, but she gathered he didn’t like Francine. Kat hesitated, “I’m not sure. Tonight is in the air.”
“You must come. I need you. I have to talk to someone or I shall burst.” Fran stopped talking abruptly. “There’s a man in your life? That’s the only reason you wouldn’t want to come. Baby how wonderful, but you must bring him. I must see Mister Terrific for myself. Bring him with you.”
Kat regretted Francine’s sharp mind. She said, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Nonsense, you must bring him for a meal. Tonight. Eight-thirty. I shall cook something special.”
“Tonight? But you’ve only just returned. You must be worn out.”
“That’s no problem. I love cooking but hate doing it for myself. I need a reason… and I look forward to seeing you both. This is a special reason. Wow!”
Kat’s spirits sank. She said, “He’s very busy. He often makes arrangements days in advance, and he has even arrived yet, he’s probably still mid-air.”
“A busy executive?”
“Also, it might be too much like a statement of commitment to him. I don’t want him to have the wrong idea. You know what I think about relationships.”
“Charm him from his schedule, baby; charm him. In return, I’ll explain to him how fierce you are about your liberty. So what’s this wonderful man’s name?”
Kat took a deep breath and said, “It’s Rafael,” and replaced the receiver before Francine could comment.
***
Later that afternoon, Rafael sat unwinding with a drink, his feet stretched onto a cushioned stool. Katrina approached him apprehensively. “Can we talk?”
He looked up from his newspaper. “I hadn’t realised we’d stopped?”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve agreed for the two of us to go to Francine’s for a meal this evening.”
“Splendid. It’ll give us a chance to go over things.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nope.”
“She’s almost family, like my sister.”
“I look forward to it.”
She ran her fingers through his crisp hair. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you. Fran will be pleased.”
“And me. It’s been some time since I’ve seen her.”
“She’s returned from what sounds a hectic exhibition tour of Japan. You realise she might be full of crap. She does go over the top at times.”
He said. “So we must be kind toward her mustn’t we?” Rafael pulled her onto his knee. “After all,” he murmured. “If she’s almost part of the family, I must make the right impression. I’d hate for her to think badly of me.”
“You’ve known her forever.”
“So!”
“You’re an idiot.” She opened a bottle of Spanish vermouth and topped up his glass and filled hers; they talked of nothing and laughed at nothing but she enjoyed him more because of it.
That evening they showered together and Kat soaped him over and rinsed the bubbles away. Rafael stood immobile with a big grin on his face until she’d finished then dragged her into the bedroom as she giggled. “Come here woman.” He heaved her over his shoulder.
“Plunder and pillage? I shall scream until I’m hoarse.”
He put her down in front the full-length mirror. “Look at us. See what you do to me.”
They were side by side and Kat’s skin crawled at the reflection of his naked arousal and her nudity. She caught him and tugged him toward the bed.
“Ah, no!” He twisted away. “All you can do is look. You can’t lay a hand on me. No contact. I want to see Francine, but I want to be back early. This is the only way I know of ensuring we do.”
***
Francine answered the door. She looked strained, a complexion paler than usual, her fragile face even more elusive. The tour must have taken more from her than she’d let on. “You’re tired,” Kat accused. “We shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m fine. I want you here. You know I adore dinner parties.” Fran kissed Kat and gave her a long hug. “I’ve missed you, baby. Come in.”
Rafael stepped forward, and they kissed on the cheek. “Hello, Francine, good to see you again.” He followed Kat in. “I hear you’ve recently finished an exhibition tour.”
Kat could have sworn there was tension between him and Fran, but a veil of welcome was drawn across her face.
“Thank you! I have, but I’d rather not speak about me. Let’s talk about you and Katrina.”
Kat laughed. “Katrina? Since when have you called me Katrina?”
“Since we’re in company.” Francine stood back and ran her eyes over him, turned and winked at Kat. “Nice butt.”
The meal was good, the small talk only gently probing. Kat expected Francine to ask questions, but she didn’t. It almost seemed that after the first scrutiny, Fran distanced herself from Rafael. Afterward they sat around chatting, drinking liqueurs and coffee. Francine turned to Kat. “Baby, will you help me for a moment in the kitchen?”
“Of course.” She followed Francine down the steps and to the short hallway.
“He is quite a something person,” Francine whispered. “I don’t blame you. He exudes charm. I’ve always said he’d be a good catch.”
“I guess I’m biased.”
“Is it serious this time?”
“Serious? God! You make it sound like a schoolgirl crush.”
“But you are going to tell me it’s real though, at last?”
“Francine, with me, there’s no such thing.”
“But you must feel something?”
“Sure I do. I feel like smiling when we’re together. He makes me happy. I consider we have something that would be a shame to spoil, exactly why there’s no such thing as intense.”
“And you don’t think it’s a little bit serious?”
“I’m excited when he’s with me, gloomy when he isn’t.”
“And this isn’t serious.”
“No.” Kat slowly shook her head. “Listen, Fran, a while ago, you made insinuations about Rafael. What was it about?”
“Hey! Don’t let me put you off. What the hell do I know?”
“What happened? You hinted that you’d talk about it later.”
“And you think that now is later enough?”
Kat caught her hand. “We’re big girls Fran. You’re my best friend. We used to share everything.”
“Did we?”
“Of course we did.”
“Girly things maybe… silly things.”
“So this is earth-shattering?”
Francine laughed. “No such thing. I can’t even remember what you’re talking about.”
“I think you can.”
“And I think you’ve invented this as a prank.”
“I thought we were honest with each other.”
“Do stop being so preposterous.” Francine stared weirdly and pointed to a couple of trays of nibbles. “Take these in will you?”
“What are these for? We’ve eaten.”
“Everyone likes to pick at food whilst drinking and talking. Will you put the music centre on as well, Babe?”
Kat carried a tray into the lounge and went back to the kitchen for the other. Rafael and Fran had gone out onto the patio, and the curtain had pulled slightly across by the breeze. As she reached to pull the curtain back into place, she heard Rafael speak. He said, “What are you trying to tell me Francine? Are you suggesting that I don’t respect a woman for what she is?”
“Prove it,” Francine said angrily.
“Do you think I’m the type who’d let you down? I hoped you could trust me.”
Kat frowned. What were they talking about?
“Trust is hard to win and easy to lose. Why should I trust you? How do I know what you’ve let out of the bag?”
Kat felt peculiarly afraid, and backed away from the patio door. People said eavesdropper never heard anything good. What the hell was the extent of their association?
She couldn’t allow them to think she’d overheard. She made a deliberate noise as if she’d just come into the room, and moments later Francine and Rafael brushed through the curtain from the patio.
“Hi!” Rafael said. “It’s stuffy. We were taking a breath of evening air. Francine has shown me how well the garden is doing.”
Kat tried hard to smile. “You were impressed?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been getting to know your Rafael,” Francine said silkily.
“He’s not my Rafael.” Kat sounded barbed. “Rafael is free to do as he pleases, there are no to ties between us. Isn’t that right, Rafael? We’re both free agents.”
He frowned.
Fran said, “Well, whatever you say, he makes perfect company.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Francine wore a strained expression, and Kat began to wonder if this get-together had been engineered.
Fran said, “And what a charming couple you make. We should drink to your health.”
Rafael moved from the patio into the room. “I’ll second that.”
Francine’s eyes were on Rafael as he walked ahead. Something odd was taking place. Why else had Francine insisted they come here tonight?
“Do tell me,” Francine said smoothly. “You and Rafael; such an unexpected affair isn’t it?”
Rafael said, “It would’ve been a lot sooner if Katrina had been less resistive. We almost came together, years ago. She put up quite a fight against me.”
“Ah, one of our womanly wiles. We have to make ourselves seem interesting don’t we, babe?”
The CD ended. Kat said, “I’ll put more music on,”
“And I shall pour drinks. What would you like, Kat?”
“I wouldn’t mind a sherry.”
“Fino, amontillado, or dulce?”
“Fino please!”
“Cognac with ice and lemon Rafael?”
“Please.”
Kat looked up sharply. How come Francine knew Rafael took cognac with ice and lemon?
“The trouble is,” Rafael said, “I know very little about Kat. She’s secretive you know.”
“Then I shall show you something of her past.”
Francine went to a drawer and Kat groaned as she took out an old photo album. Some pictures were funny and she and Francine were soon recalling the incidents and private jokes.
Rafael suddenly said, “Good heavens! Is that the time.” He looked to Kat for approval, and she gave slight nod. “We did say we’d leave before now. I had an early start this morning,” he explained. He stood and held out his hand to Francine. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you again.”
Once they were back in her house, Kat flopped onto the settee, the conversation between Rafael and Fran still chewed at her mind. She said, “I’m sorry to drop you in it like that. Was it too awful?”
“No problems. Forget it. It wasn’t as bad as I expected.”
“She’s very beautiful isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
Kat sighed and settled back into the settee.
He said, “Drink?”
“A cup of coffee please. Espresso. The machine’s in the cupboard next to the sink. Coffee’s above.”
“I meant something stronger, actually.”
She shook her head.
“You sound tired.”
“I feel it.”
He glanced. “Too weary?”
“To drink a cup of coffee?”
He sat against her, “there are other things, or had you forgotten?”
“Such as?”
“You want me to show you?” He slid his arm around her waist. “I’m glad we’re using Fran for the presentation in Valencia.”
“You are?”
“With her already knowing us, it takes some pressure off, and allows us to concentrate on the real issues.”
Kat couldn’t look at him. She wasn’t so sure now. At the moment it felt pressure was mounting
Rafael flew back to Spain after three days, taking the same flight as Francine and her models. He arranged a photo-shoot before the display in Valencia, and said he wanted to oversee it, wanted everything to be perfect.
Kat stayed to finalise some last-minute details. If he sensed she was less than enthusiastic, he said nothing of it.
***
Late evening, her cell-phone buzzed, no name highlighted, a stranger. She flipped it on. “Hello.”
“Hi, is that Katrina Bligh?”
“Yes,” she said cautiously.
“My name is Nathan Ashleigh. I am lawyer, based in Canon Street, West London. I represent a client, who wishes to make known an offer of intent.”
Kat frowned. “An offer of intent, on what?”
“My client believes you to be working on a new type of fabric.”
Breath caught in Kat’s lungs. How did anyone know that? She hadn’t mentioned it to a single person. Only Fran new anything about it and she hadn’t said anything for ages.
“He also believes the fabric to be almost ready for public launch. He wishes to make known that he is willing to consider sponsoring your project.”
“I’m not seeking a sponsor. I’m already working under the umbrella of an international company.”
“My client understands that you have developed this project privately. He also wishes you to realise that it would be financially beneficial for you to consider moving your allegiance.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“That’s a commendable stance, Miss, Bligh. However, in my experience, in modern business practice, loyalty is an overrated virtue. My client says if you were to accept his sponsorship, all recognition and eminence would remain in your name. He would require association by name, but prominence would remain with you.”
“Who is this client?”
“He wishes to remain anonymous for the moment.”
“Well, as I said, I’m already working under the umbrella of an international company.”
“I’m sure my client will find your devotion laudable. I am, however, instructed to explain it will be a worthwhile offer, were you to indicate otherwise.”
Kat put the phone down thoughtfully. What was happening to her life?
Two days later, everything accomplished, Kat went to join Rafael, taking an overnight flight. The taxi dropped her off at the villa at seven-thirty, Rafael was yet not awake. The early morning was so fresh and sunny it seemed a shame not to take advantage of it, so she went for a stroll through the grounds.
Her walk took her around a circuitous route, up the moderate climb of a dirt track. There was no urgency in her, and she enjoyed the winding trail, climbing to a shaded spot, past a clump of dormant goldenrod.
She knew that as the fashion show drew closer, she’d be filled with nerves, but for now there were treasures to be seen in the estates and she was calm. She wandered haphazardly, trailed her hand over ugly stalks of wild fennel; snapped them so they exuded their powerful scent of anise.
Pines towered overhead. Through the trees, in the distance, she saw a log-cabin, and from it came the ring of steel and the dull clump of splitting wood.
Sunlight dappled through branches, with a single pillow of cloud in the unbroken expanse of sky above. She pushed her way forward through the fennel to the clearing ahead.
A voice bellowed angrily, “Qué usted está haciendo aquí?” A man strutted across to her, his face covered in sweat.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realise I was trespassing.”
If Rafael was big, this man was a giant, unshaven, massive head awash with shaggy black hair. His rough shirt was opened to his chest, and sleeves rolled up to reveal stout arms.
“Usted debe. I tell you this before, eh!”
His breath steamed in the early-morning air, swept into her face, metallic with garlic and beer.
She said, “I’m sorry...”
“How many times I tell you this? Caramba! You no understand? No comprende, eh?”
Kat shook her head. “I’m sorry. If I had known then I...”
“Then what?” he shouted. “Make idiot of me. Again you make idiot? I no like.”
“Pardon?”
“I already tell you, no want you here. Claro? No want.”
Kat, although frightened by his anger, simply couldn’t walk away. She said, “I tell you I haven’t been here before.”
“You no business here. Go!”
“I’m sorry.” Kat gulped and began to back away.
“Your memory is short,” he yelled after her.
“I tell you I haven’t been here before. I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed your privacy, but I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“You stay with Señor Saval?”
“What is it to you?”
“You take off your clothes …” He stepped toward her.
Kat stared in horror, turned, and ran.
“No come again,” he roared. “Keep away.”
Weeds tore at Kat’s legs as she ran through the woods. Twigs tugged at her, whipped at her face, but she didn’t stop until she was back on the road again, heart thumping, chest heaving.
The scent of pine was heavy, mingled with the earthy smell of the forest. It looked safe, sounded safe, but Kat would never again think it was safe. Who the hell was that man, and what was he talking about?
She had never been to that place in her life, yet he was adamant she had. What was going on?
He thought he knew her, but how? She started to walk to the villa. She knew there would be no need for panic now but she just had to gain the security of the hacienda.
Aliaga looked up briefly as she opened the kitchen door, a cursory glance in which Kat saw the hostility she’d seen before.
“I’ve been into the woods.” Kat said, fighting for breath. “A man was there, by a cabin; a huge man. He was very rough. He frightened me.”
“You should not go there, it is privado,” Aliaga muttered. “Not for you.” She turned her back and walked into the lounge.
Kat followed her. “But there was nothing there to tell me it was private, no signs, nothing.”
Aliaga said pointedly. “People, who belong here, they know.”
“He was very hostile. I was scared.”
“His brain…” Aliaga turned on her. “Not his fault.”
“He said he’d already told me not to go there.”
Aliaga walked to the fireplace and adjusted a vent so smoke no longer puffed out. “I tell you. His brain. He imagines, yes?”
“He was adamant.”
“What you want me say?”
Kat drew a chair from the kitchen table and dropped onto it. She knew she should be walking from this woman, yet pride made it impossible.
“You don’t like me, do you,” she said abruptly?
“Like you? I don’t know you.” Wood burned brightly in the open fire basket. Aliaga gestured noncommittally, and sat close to it in an old rocking chair.
“But you resent me being here.”
“You are guest of Señor Saval. I am housekeeper; it is nothing to do with me. I am here to do what he asks.”
“Like searching through my handbag?”
Aliaga avoided her eyes. So she was right. Her bag had been rifled, but for what, and under whose direction, Rafael’s, or had Aliaga done it by herself?
She leaned forward. “And tell me why that… caveman talked to me the way he did. Have you said something to him? Have you said something nasty about me?”
Aliaga stood abruptly and walked to a wall cupboard and took out a bottle of sherry. She poured out a single drink, without offering one to Kat.
“Tell me!” Kat demanded. “I have a right to know.”
“I told him nothing.” Aliaga sat again and sipped at the glass. “He see it for himself.”
“See what, damn you.”
Aliaga’s face became spiteful. “They were tramps, every one.”
Kat suddenly felt as if a rubber band had been tightened around her chest. She said carefully, “Who were?”
“Plenty girls, eh? Photo, photo, laugh, sing, and take off clothes. Poor Pepe, he not understand, eh? Never before see girl with no clothes.”
Kat stared at her. The rubber band squeezed blood from her heart.
Aliaga said viciously, “It is not the first time, it is not the last. Party, party, is no good.”
Kat suddenly had difficulty in drawing breath. The heat from the spitting fire seemed to suck air from her lungs. Aliaga’s garbled message was clear… so was Billy Mellor’s.
“She is precise, the one in charge,” Aliaga said. “She tries to cover the trouble, but I see. Nothing happens here, except I see, yes? She thinks it is hidden, but I see all.” She shot a pointed glance in Kat’s direction.
The silence became distressing.
Kat felt numb. This bitch of a woman was talking about Francine. Bile surged from the pit of her stomach, and she struggled to not throw up.
Words needed to be said, but none would come, feelings she should have, but there were no feelings.
Some girls, maybe Fran included, must have gone into the woods to the caveman. God knows what they had been up to.
“Party, sing, dance,” Aliaga said brutally. “Girls make fun of poor Pepe. He shout, he wave hands. No harm in poor Pepe. His brain is cooked. Girls bad. Take off clothes and dance around him.”
Kat gripped the arms of the chair, anger surging through her. Somehow she pushed herself from the chair and walked to the door. Pride kept her upright.
When she reached the door, Kat turned and looked at Aliaga. Aliaga stared with arrogance, firelight bathing her cruel face. Her eyes held real malice. “Party, party, sing, shout. My poor Pepe not know what to do.”
“Your Pepe?”
“He is my son. Poor Pepe.”
Kat made her way into the corridor, gulped in great drafts of air, tried desperately to bring her mind under control, but there was nothing to find except panic.