One More Sleepless Night

THIRTEEN



I’ve got you.

As Rafael tightened his grip on Nicky’s waist and led her away from the group of people and their curiosity at her extraordinary reaction to their mini collision, the words he was murmuring into her hair over and over spun round and round her head because now all the panic and confusion had evaporated it suddenly struck her that he did get her. He really did.

There she’d been a moment ago, surrounded and trapped and in the terrifying grip of a flashback, her heart hammering and panic drowning out the voice of common sense that was telling her the hands on her were only trying to steady her and that she wasn’t in any danger. And then, just when her knees had been about to give way, just when she’d thought she’d been about to faint and almost falling apart at the awareness that she still wasn’t as over everything as she’d thought, there he’d been, charging to her rescue like some kind of white knight, taking her into his arms and shielding her from the nightmare, warm and solid and so very reassuring.

She hadn’t had to ask for his help. She hadn’t had to spell it out. He’d somehow instinctively known what was wrong, and he’d put it right.

He’d got it.

He got her.

And not only a second ago, she thought dazedly as Rafael leaned back against the wall of the church and held her tight still murmuring soothing words into her hair. The truth of it was that over the last week he’d often appeared to be able to read her mind, apparently understanding exactly what she needed—whether it was space, silence or company—sometimes even before she did. And she’d been able to gauge his moods too.

It was as if they had some kind of connection and the weird thing was that, far from finding it unsettling as she should have done, she’d actually revelled in it. Which meant that not only did he get her, but that she wanted him to.

As that thought slammed into her head Nicky’s slowing heart began to race all over again because hot on the heels of it came a whole load more, cascading into her head so fast that she went dizzy.

Oh, dear Lord. The attention and care he’d lavished on her in the last few days? She loved it. The feeling of being cherished, protected, looked after? She loved all that too. And as for the way he’d just rushed to her rescue, well, that melted just about every independent feminist thought she’d ever had.

She ought to have found it stifling, but she didn’t. She ought to have been horrified that it went against everything she’d ever thought she’d valued, but she found she couldn’t drum up much objection to that either.

And why not?

Because she was head over heels bonkers in love with him.

Nicky froze, her pulse going berserk and her knees threatening to buckle all over again.

She was in love with him. She had to be. What else could account for it all?

She’d never really thought about falling in love. Never imagined she would. Never expected it. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in it as a concept, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t had a good example of it set by her parents. It was just that she’d never felt it herself before. She’d always been too busy to look for it. Too focused on staying on the move and remaining unattached.

But not any more because now she was thinking about it she was beginning to realise that she loved everything about him. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with the mind-blowing sex, because even when they weren’t in bed she still had that wonderfully warm sense of contentment. Every time he smiled at her, every time he looked at her and every time he touched her. In fact every time he crossed her mind her heart turned over and she went soft and warm inside.

If that wasn’t love, then what was it?

And just like that all those things that had been baffling her recently suddenly made sense. Her lack of enthusiasm about going back to Paris. The longing to learn everything there was to know about him. The brief jagged pain that scythed through her at the thought of them being over. The wrenching of her heart when she’d caught sight of the couple floating out of the church not five minutes ago, beaming and radiating happiness and wrapped round each other as they posed for photographs beneath a Mudéjar arch. And the couple of dark-haired green-eyed children she’d secretly imagined racing around the cortijo...

As her muscles gently collapsed beneath the deluge of emotion descending over her Nicky sank against him. God. Not a fan of emotional mess? Who had she been kidding? She’d never wanted it more. She wanted the roller coaster of the ride. The highs and the lows, the laughter and the arguments. She was bone-deep tired of being footloose and fancy free, of the endless travel and being alone. She wanted to settle down. She wanted someone to share her life with. She wanted Rafael.

Her heart thumped as her mind raced. But what about him? How did he feel about her? Could she even begin to hope he might love her back? Yes, she’d noticed his concern for her, the way he’d cared for her, the warmth with which he looked at her, but did any of that mean anything? Surely it had to mean something...

Listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek and taking strength from the arms around her and the warm hard body still supporting her, she sifted through all the evidence, analysing every look and every smile he’d given her, every little thing he’d said and done, and her heart thumped wildly as she came to the conclusion that he very well could.

And OK, from what she’d just learned about his marriage of course he’d be wary of loving again and wary of commitment, but maybe she could show him that with someone who understood him, with her, he needn’t be.

Nicky closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him as she struggled to absorb all these earth-shattering discoveries and would have swayed had she not been locked in his embrace.

‘Would you like to go home?’ he said softly.

And just when she thought her system couldn’t cope with any more shocks, wham, there was another one, because didn’t home sound like the most heavenly thing ever?

She’d never had a home before. Never wanted one. If she’d ever thought about it she’d have shuddered at the idea of anything so permanent. So cosy. So boringly domestic. But that long-held belief went the way of the others and exploded into smithereens because right now she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than with Rafael. At home. For ever.

Feeling that the world had somehow tilted violently and then settled back down all upside down, Nicky dazedly leaned back in his arms, smiled up into his eyes and said, ‘Yes, please.’

* * *

The fact that Nicky didn’t seem to have anything to say during the car journey back to the cortijo suited Rafael down to the ground because there was so much stuff churning around in his head he didn’t think he’d be able to hold anything remotely resembling a conversation even if she’d wanted one.

At some point between taking her in his arms to lead her to safety and getting in the car something had changed. What precisely it was he couldn’t work out. All he knew was that something was different, it was deeply unsettling and for some reason it threw his idea of a long-term relationship with Nicky right on its head.

He’d been leaning back against that wall and holding her close when he’d felt her stiffen, then soften. All of a sudden it had seemed to him that she was pressing just that little bit closer and not because she wanted to get horizontal and naked with him but because she wanted to simply be with him.

For some reason the idea of it had made him reel. It had made him prickle with foreboding and fill with trepidation. And then, before he’d had time to recover and to reassure himself that he was merely still shaken up by what he’d seen Nicky just go through and must have imagined it, she’d smiled up at him, her eyes shining and her face all soft and dreamy. She’d looked at him as if he were her knight in shining armour and his heart had given a sudden lurch because at that moment tough, resilient, independent Nicky had been replaced by someone he didn’t recognise.

And frankly it spooked the hell out of him.

‘Rafael, are you all right?’

His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he wished they were home already so he could put some distance between them. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Why?’

‘You’re very quiet.’

‘Just thinking, that’s all.’

‘About what happened back there?’

‘Partly.’

‘Me too.’ There it was again, that dreamy wistfulness in her voice drifting through the dark, winding through him and twisting his gut into knots. ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue.’

Rafael tensed and felt a bead of sweat trickle down his spine as his stomach instinctively clutched tighter. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘I’ll have to make sure you’re around every time I find myself unexpectedly in the middle of a crowd.’

Her words hit his brain and Rafael went utterly cold, because despite the faint teasing note in her voice he didn’t think she was joking. And if she wasn’t joking, then he was in a whole lot of trouble. And if he was, then it was all entirely of his own making.

The knowledge struck him like a blow and he inhaled sharply. God, he’d been a fool. He’d told Nicky to lean on him and that was precisely what she’d done. And not, he could now see, in a solely literal sense. Nor only back in that square. She’d been leaning on him ever since he’d brought her back down here and like a blind idiot he hadn’t seen it.

In fact he’d been provoking it.

He’d thought he’d simply been keeping an eye on her. Making sure she was OK. Spending time with her, getting to know her and encouraging her to talk about what had happened in the Middle East to help her get over it. But what he’d really been doing over the course of the last week was creating an environment in which she was bound to come to depend on him.

How he could have forgotten that she might not be as fully recovered as she claimed he had no idea. Hadn’t she woken up in the early hours, sweating and trembling, only a couple of nights ago? She had, and without a thought for the consequences he’d gathered her in his arms and held her until she’d stopped shaking with fear and started quivering with something else entirely.

And then back there in the square he’d rushed to her side, and that must have fanned the flames because, God, the way she’d smiled up at him... As if he’d rescued her from more than just a flashback...

Rafael’s blood chilled. He wasn’t that man. He couldn’t be. He couldn’t be responsible for her well-being because he’d only fail and very probably set her back months.

So he could forget any idea of a long-distance, more permanent relationship, he thought with grim resolve. Things had already gone far too far and the minute they got back to the cortijo he’d be putting a stop to this affair, this budding relationship, this whatever it was, once and for all.

‘Rafael?’

‘What?’ he growled, completely lost in thought.

‘I think I love you.’

* * *

Perhaps Rafael’s car in the dead of night wasn’t the best place to blurt out she loved him, thought Nicky, clinging onto the door handle as the car swerved briefly before being hauled back under control, but really she hadn’t had much of a choice. She’d never been one to tackle things anything other than head-on, so once she’d realised she loved him and wanted something more with him the need to spill it out had bubbled and built until it just sort of erupted from her.

But maybe she should have told him while they were in bed or something because she didn’t know what reaction she’d been expecting but she’d known what she’d been hoping for, and the short sharp curse, the fierce scowl, and the crackling tension that was suddenly filling the space between them wasn’t it.

But it was way too late for regret. Her declaration was out there, the words were echoing between them in the thick darkness and there was no taking it back. All she could do now was brace herself for his response.

Releasing her death grip on the door handle, Nicky swivelled slightly to look at him and, with her heart in her throat, waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But to her growing bewilderment Rafael remained resolutely silent, his jaw tight and his focus fixed on the road ahead, and with every kilometre that the car gobbled up she went a little colder.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ she asked, when the deafening silence finally became unbearable.

‘What do you want me to say?’

At the complete lack of emotion in his voice it dawned on her that this conversation was unlikely to go the way she’d have liked, and Nicky filled with apprehension. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, suddenly feeling all shaky inside. ‘How about thank you? I’m flattered. I love you too. Something.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said flatly, ‘but you don’t love me.’

For a moment she thought she must have misheard, but no, he really had just told her that she didn’t love him.

As it sank in Nicky felt her eyes widen and her jaw drop because of all the responses she could have imagined an outright denial of her feelings would never have occurred to her. ‘What?’ she breathed.

‘You don’t love me. You just think you do.’ He shot her a quick unfathomable look. ‘I’m not some kind of white knight, Nicky.’

She blinked. ‘I know you’re not.’

‘Do you?’ His jaw tightened.

‘Of course.’ She might have had a moment of fancy back there in the square but that was all it had been because she knew perfectly well that, not only did Rafael have feet of clay like everyone else, but she didn’t need a knight.

‘I can’t be responsible for your well-being.’

Confusion spun through her. Had she missed something? Had they had a conversation she’d forgotten about? They must have done because where was all this coming from? How on earth had they got from her telling him she loved him to this? And where had this God complex suddenly sprung from? ‘What makes you think you are?’

‘Your comment about needing me around whenever you find yourself in a crowd.’

‘That was a joke.’

‘It didn’t sound like one.’

And maybe it hadn’t been one totally, but that wasn’t the point. ‘I see,’ she said, folding her arms over her chest and feeling her blood beginning to simmer in response to his baffling attitude. ‘And you’ve deduced from that that I’ve somehow cast you in the role of knight in shining armour?’

‘Haven’t you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘It wouldn’t be your fault if you had.’ His face tightened. ‘This last week has been a mistake,’ he muttered, almost as if talking to himself. ‘My mistake.’

Did he really believe that? The hurt that suddenly cut through her momentarily robbed her of breath. ‘Why?’

‘Because I’ve let you become dependent on me and I shouldn’t have.’

She let out a slow measured breath to stop the top of her head blowing off. ‘You know, your arrogance is truly staggering,’ she said, staring at him in stupefaction as all the lovely warmth and the dizzying sense of wonder that had been bubbling away inside her for the last hour or so evaporated.

Rafael whipped his head round to give her a quick glance and she saw astonishment written all over his face. ‘What?’

‘I’m perfectly capable of being responsible for my own well-being,’ she said, silently adding, You jerk. ‘Like it or not, I’m in love with you.’ Although right now she really wished she weren’t. ‘And it has nothing to do with my recovery or dependency or whatever you think you’ve been doing over the last week.’

‘You can’t be,’ he said flatly. ‘We haven’t known each other long enough. You’re confusing love and lust, that’s all.’

Nicky fought not to gape at him as her head spun. What the hell was going on here? Who was this? Where was the Rafael she’d fallen in love with? The warm, thoughtful man who’d made her laugh and who’d made such passionate love to her. The one she’d got to know and admire. He had to still be there somewhere but why had he switched himself off like this?

And then suddenly a great wave of hurt and disappointment swept through her, boiling her blood and firing her indignation. If he didn’t feel the same way about her as she did about him that was fine. Painful, but fair enough. But this casual and cold dismissal of her feelings? No, that wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair.

‘How dare you?’ she breathed.

‘What?’ he said, casting her a quick cool glance as if he genuinely didn’t have a clue what she meant.

‘How dare you just brush me off like that?’

He shrugged. ‘Because I know what I’m talking about.’ The condescension in his voice made her want to slap him. ‘It happened to me. In my marriage. I thought I married for love. It turned out to be nothing more than lust.’

‘And you think that’s what’s going on here?’

‘If it’s not dependency, then very possibly. Have you ever been in love before?’

‘Well, no, but—’

‘Then how do you know that what you claim to feel for me isn’t love, but simply lust?’

And once again he rendered her speechless. She just sat there, totally bamboozled by his logic and unable to breathe. She felt winded, as if he’d struck her square in the chest.

And then sensation came flooding back, and all that hurt and disappointment and frustration at his reaction now combined with dizzying and unfamiliar red hot anger, and the whole lot of it surged through her in one great unstoppable wave.

‘I’ll tell you how I know,’ she said, feeling what little control she had when it came to him slipping away but too consumed by all the emotions tossing around inside her to do anything about it. ‘I know because even if we never made love again I’d still want to be with you. I know because I admire you and respect you and because I think you’re amazing. Yes, I love the way you make me feel, but it’s so much more than that.’ She glared at him. ‘And you know how I really know it’s love and not lust?’

‘How?’ he said, sounding as if he couldn’t be less interested.

‘By the way that your casual dismissal of what I feel is practically crucifying me.’

Rafael went still, but he didn’t look at her. ‘If I’ve hurt you, then I apologise, but perhaps it’s for the best.’

‘For the best?’ she echoed.

‘Better now than months down the line.’

God, she really had got it wrong, hadn’t she? Terribly, agonisingly wrong. ‘Are you honestly saying that you feel nothing for me?’

Rafael frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say nothing. I like you a lot and I can’t get enough of you in bed. But as I said, that’s just lust.’

‘And what about if sex wasn’t part of the equation?’

‘I would rapidly lose interest.’

His voice might be flat and cold but the muscle ticcing madly in his jaw suggested he wasn’t as unaffected as he was trying to make out, and suddenly a tiny ray of hope burst through the tangle of hurt and confusion and anger within her. ‘I don’t believe you.’

He shrugged. ‘That’s up to you.’

As all the things he’d done for her, the way he’d held her, made love to her, talked to her flashed through her head she took a deep breath and a massive gamble. ‘I think you love me too.’

‘You couldn’t be more wrong, because I don’t.’

She let out that breath in a furious exasperated rush, suddenly utterly fed up with him. ‘God, I’ve never met such a stubborn, thick-headed man in my life. Nor one who is such an emotional coward.’

That jerked him out of his indifference. He snapped his gaze to hers, his eyes blazing. ‘What?’

Nicky gripped her seat belt and refused to quail. ‘You’re an emotional coward, Rafael.’

He snapped his gaze back to the road. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’

‘Every time the going gets tough, every time something crops up that you don’t want to deal with, you retreat.’

‘I do not.’

‘No?’ she said. ‘OK, well, let’s take a look at the evidence.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. There is no evidence.’

‘You think?’ She held up her hand and ticked off her index finger. ‘Firstly there’s your marriage. Things started getting difficult and you buried yourself in your work.’

‘Don’t even begin to presume you know what went on in my marriage,’ he said icily calmly.

Nicky ignored his chilling fury. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. But you even admitted that much, once you managed to get past your reluctance to talk about it in the first place. And then what about that time we met?’ She wiggled her middle finger.

‘What about it?’

‘Weren’t you escaping from the demands of two sisters, one mother and an ex-girlfriend?’

He gritted his teeth and his eyes flashed her a warning but she wasn’t about to stop now. ‘And then there was that kiss by the pool,’ she fired at him, giving up with the fingers altogether. ‘You might not have physically fled then, but emotionally you did, and you’re doing it again now. Going straight into denial and retreating, just because I’m being honest and you can’t deal with it. You look like you’re itching to escape and the only reason you’re not is because we’re in your car flying along at seventy kilometres an hour and you can’t.’ She gave him a withering look. ‘And you know something—while kind of understandable in a boy of eight, in a man of thirty-two it’s pathetic.’

Her words hung in the air, suspended between them, the seconds ticking heavily by before he said, ‘Yes, well, we can’t all be wild, adventurous risk- takers like you.’

She stared at him. ‘You see being honest and dealing with emotions as a risk?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then what about the rewards?’

‘In my experience there aren’t any.’

Ooh, she wanted to thump him. ‘If you truly think that, then that’s sad. Yes, I take risks—’ and none more so than the one she’d taken just now ‘—but they’re generally calculated ones. And even if one does go wrong—’ as this one seemed to be doing ‘—at least I tried. But what do you do? You hide.’

‘It’s called self-preservation.’

‘It’s called immaturity.’

Rafael flinched as if she’d struck him, but Nicky hadn’t finished. They might have arrived back at the cortijo and he might be yanking on the handbrake and reaching for the clip of his seat belt as if he couldn’t get away fast enough, but she matched him for speed. ‘You think you’re so good at solving problems and sorting out things for other people,’ she said, freeing herself and reaching for the door, ‘but what about you? Who sorts you out?’ She glared at him. ‘Right now the biggest problem here is you and your absurd refusal to even entertain the thought about how you might feel about me, and you’re not even bothering to try and fix it even though you could.’

‘There’s nothing to fix.’

‘There could be.’

‘There won’t be.’

He got out of the car and slammed the door shut, and it finally hit her that she’d never be able to get through to him. That he’d been hiding his emotions away for too long and too well. Nothing she could say or do would ever have any effect on him and Nicky had suddenly had enough.

‘Well, if that really is the case,’ she said, her voice shaking with anger, ‘then this time I’m the one walking away.’

* * *

Nicky was wrong, thought Rafael grimly as the slam of the front door reverberated throughout the cortijo, leaving nothing but an eerie silence and the echo of all those accusations.

Dead wrong. About everything.

As if he needed sorting out. As if he needed fixing. The idea was laughable. He didn’t need either. He was fine the way he was.

And if he did occasionally retreat, well, what was the problem with that? As he’d told her, it was simply a question of self-preservation, that was all. It worked for his father and it worked for him. He had it under control. It wasn’t an issue. And it wasn’t immaturity. And what would she know about it anyway? She didn’t have a vast family that constantly badgered her, did she?

And OK, he might have been a bit thrown by that conversation about Marina and all the memories it had tossed up, and he might possibly have got it wrong about her being dependent on him, but as for them being in love with each other, well, that was completely absurd.

He wasn’t in love with her and she wasn’t in love with him. She couldn’t be. They’d only known each other for a few weeks. It wasn’t possible.

So it was a good thing she’d gone, wasn’t it, because, God, all that emotion... It had been horrible...

Stifling a shudder, Rafael stalked into the drawing room and strode towards the drinks cabinet. He reached for the brandy and filled a glass and winced as all the things Nicky had said and the way she’d said them hit him all over again. He tossed his drink back in one and hoped the burning alcohol that hit his stomach would obliterate the memory of the last half an hour.

At least it was all over now, which was excellent because he didn’t need this kind of hassle in his life. He didn’t need this kind of upheaval. And he could certainly do without feeling like this.

Whatever it was that was coursing through him right now it couldn’t possibly be something serious like hurt or disappointment or regret or anything. It was simply shock at the abruptness of her departure, that was all. And if he did feel a tiny pang of loss, well, that was only natural given the intensity and passion that their affair had had.

Like everything, recovering from it would simply be a question of patience and time, and with a bit of both he’d soon come to appreciate the lucky escape he’d had.