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  ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked. ‘A glass of wine or a gin and tonic perhaps? I think the stewardess will be heading in our direction soon.’

  ‘No, thank you. I never drink on planes.’

  ‘Nervous of flying?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said, glancing at him. She was feeling nervous, though not of flying. ‘I just can’t really see the attraction of alcohol at thirty thousand feet. This isn’t a bar or a club. An airplane is a functional space, designed to get you from one place to another as fast as possible,’ she continued, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Why would you want to drink during the journey?’

  ‘Some people find it relaxing,’ he pointed out. Then, with a glint in his eye, he lowered his voice: ‘By the way, massage is one of those complementary practices that I’d put high on my list. It’s been proven to alleviate many discomforts. You might find it useful yourself to relax.’

  ‘I don’t need to relax,’ she said, her voice brusquer than she intended. As if to demonstrate, she tilted her head back against the headrest and scanned the switches above, darting a single look at him in annoyance.

  He gave another deep chuckle. ‘Oh, but I think you do.’ His gaze perused her face, then momentarily skimmed down further, before locking on her eyes again. ‘Your body is tense and you’re frowning.’

  He had noticed her body. Now she was burning with selfconsciousness. An all-too-familiar hot sensation pooled deep down between her thighs, melting her centre of gravity. Disturbed by the unwelcome reaction, and remembering his bold regard of her before, she became defensive.

  ‘Well, perhaps it’s because you keep looking at me in a strange way.’

  Ruy stared at her intently. He certainly didn’t seem to mind scrutinizing her with open curiosity whenever he liked, Luna thought, struggling to ignore the sensual effect he had on her, to the extent that she was forced to distract herself by feigning a sudden interest in the contents of her bag. Maybe all Spanish men were like this, she speculated, even the sophisticated ones. Yet beneath the polished exterior that Ruy now presented, there was still a sense of contained recklessness about him, a smouldering fire in his gaze that spoke of the gypsy in him. Its alarming power made her lose the ability to think straight.

  ‘It’s your hair and your eyes, against your skin,’ he said, jolting her from her reverie so that she looked up quickly. ‘You must forgive me if I find the arresting combination of light-gold silk, brown honey and alabaster skin fascinating. It’s very rare over here. La Luna. Fair and perfect, like moonlight.’

  Now he was openly flirting with her. The thrill of it sent a renewed wave of awareness rippling through her body but she smothered it with an inner warning to remember her resolution. She was responding to him when she should be resisting. Whether she was flattered or alarmed by Ruy’s attention, one thing was certain – she had failed to discourage him.

  You’ve only yourself to blame, Luna thought.

  She kept her voice steady. ‘Do you do this often?’

  ‘Do what often, fly?’

  ‘No, deliberately provoke women you’ve never met before and then pay them absurd compliments.’ There … she’d done it again – prodding him; she was the one being provocative … almost rude. She didn’t recognize herself. Luna wasn’t normally susceptible to this sort of male charm. Usually she just ignored it but Ruy had got under her skin and made her say things she didn’t mean to say.

  Ruy looked surprised at the rebuke and laughed. ‘Well, possibly.’

  Yes, she had thought as much. Just like other men, her mind intoned. The worst of it was her own attitude had encouraged him.

  He gave her his most disarming grin. ‘But with you, Luna, I do actually mean them. Besides, we have met before. Twice, as I recall. And both times have given me many reasons to pay you compliments.’ He wrestled a serious look back on to his face. ‘But I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed provoking a woman as much before, so you’re mistaken in that assumption.’

  Insufferable man!

  Ruy leaned in, and Luna caught the intriguing scent of his aftershave, mixed with clean masculinity. ‘Perhaps it’s your unusual self-possession,’ he murmured. ‘It’s a provocative thing for a man. It makes him want to undermine it somehow, and see what lies beneath.’

  Luna silently caught her breath. If she had hoped to hear an apology, clearly she was to be disappointed. He found this an amusing game and she was merely another in a long line of women, no doubt. Still, she deserved it for having indulged herself this far.

  She replaced the magazine and leaned down to retrieve her bag from under the seat in front. Her pulse was thundering.

  ‘Well, I’m sure some women find being undermined by a man highly attractive,’ she said as evenly as she could, without looking at him. ‘But it’s not a sport I find particularly interesting.’ She fished a notebook out of her bag and made a show of flicking through it. Hopefully this would signal to him that the conversation was at an end.

  ‘I was teasing, Luna. Just ignore me.’ She could hear the grin in his voice.

  She looked over her book at him, fixing a polite smile on her face that said, I intend to.

  Ruy seemed finally to cede defeat. He reached for his briefcase and swung it on to his knees, pulling out his laptop.

  She kept her eyes on her notebook, hoping he would not try to talk to her again. The sun was shining. Luna momentarily shifted her attention to the small oval window. They were flying above the clouds, which were like a bed of cotton wool below them.

  Ruy made no further attempt at conversation. His mind and energies seemed to be wholly absorbed by his laptop, his face taut with concentration, his fingers moving on the keyboard with practised ease.

  Though a lack of communication was exactly what Luna had intended, it disturbed her slightly that Ruy no longer appeared to have any awareness of her. When the hostess came round with the trolley of drinks, he ordered a neat whisky, which Luna noticed he downed in one gulp. As much as she tried to ignore his presence, it was difficult when all she wanted was to sit there and stare at him, taking in every detail of his face, and from time to time her gaze strayed in his direction, observing the lean line of his jaw and the clear moulding of his lips. Putting her notebook away, she took out a travel guide on Cádiz she had bought at the airport in New York, but had not yet looked at. She might as well learn about the town in which she would be living for the next few months. For the rest of the flight, Luna paid studious attention to her book, battling with her wavering concentration.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are making our descent towards La Parra Airport. The weather in Jerez is seventeen degrees centigrade, with sunny, clear blue skies.’

  Luna looked out of the window. The clouds were beginning to scatter in different directions into wispy trails and she could see the pattern of the earth. Above the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, they flew over white cities with avenues of trees and a jungle of apartment blocks, and hillsides clothed in green.

  The perfect azure sky mirrored in calm, blue sea.

  As the plane continued its slow descent and they came closer to land, she could see the frill of foam left by the rhythmic break and fall of the waves, delicate as lace against the sable sand. The Bay of Cádiz was alive with craft of all sizes. Then there were vineyards, and houses with turquoise swimming pools shimmering in the afternoon sun.

  ‘Is this your first visit to Cádiz?’ The warm tone invaded her thoughts once more.

  She turned and was faced with Ruy’s sparkling gaze.

  ‘I noticed you were reading about the city,’ he explained, gesturing towards her book. A smile flitted across his face, reaching his eyes. She tried not to find them fascinating and bewitching still as she met their magnetic caress.

  ‘Yes. I’ve not been to Cádiz before,’ she admitted reluctantly. Luna didn’t want to tell him that she’d not been back to Spain since she was c
hild – that would only invite more conversation. She wondered how she was going to brush him off politely once they were off the plane, even though part of her regarded that idea with deep regret.

  ‘I’m going to Cádiz myself,’ he went on, ‘and would be delighted to give you a lift in my private limousine.’

  Luna’s eyebrows shot up as her heart rate accelerated. He was actually making a pass at her.

  ‘Sorry?’

  He mistook the incredulous look in her eyes. ‘Oh, it’s not a big, luxurious one, just an old vintage model, but it’s very comfortable and there’s plenty of space,’ he told her, hopeful eyes fixed on her face.

  The arrogance of the man! This Ruy whatever-his-name-was had really got the wrong idea about her. Did he actually think that she would allow herself to be picked up by a virtual stranger, even one with a comfortable limousine? Again she chastized herself for being duped by foolish hope and naïvety. She was merely a challenge to his male ego.

  Luna, you’re an intelligent woman. Why did you let yourself be seduced by a foolish dream?

  She had to put a stop to this before it got out of hand; especially now he knew she was going to Cádiz. It had already gone too far.

  Luna squared her shoulders, refusing to let him see how disconcerted she was, all self-consciousness having vanished into thin air and replaced by rising hackles to combat his audacity.

  ‘Señor, we hardly know each other. Don’t you think you’re being a little presumptuous, thinking I’d get into a car with a virtual stranger?’ Her amber eyes glared at him, scarcely concealing her indignation, but her voice was calm. ‘What makes you think that having refused to have dinner with you yesterday, and today having made it quite clear I’m not open to overtures from a stranger, however charming, that I’d be so naïve as to accept a ride in your limousine, luxurious or not?’

  Ruy’s cobalt eyes burned into hers as he spoke in low, soothing tones. ‘I don’t feel like we’re strangers, Luna.’ He gave a slight tilt of his head and looked at her searchingly. ‘You’re going to Cádiz and so am I. Again, you must forgive me, but I can’t pretend not to find you fascinating. Neither can I ignore that you are as beguiling as moonlight, living up to your name. But trust me, I meant no offence.’

  To her horror, Luna found herself blushing. This man’s words had a stride of their own, coursing through her veins in bewitching temptation. It made her feel vulnerable, and that was the last thing she wanted to project.

  She tossed her head and arched an eyebrow in an attempt to seem contemptuous. ‘Your looks and your way with words no doubt make it easy for you to twist women round your little finger. Unfortunately for you, this particular woman is not taken in at all. I’d be grateful if you left me alone. And please don’t think of trying to seek me out in Cádiz to change my mind.’ Her voice was firm, even cold, and she had somehow managed to look him straight in the eye without flinching, she noted with satisfaction.

  He froze. For an instant, a strange emotion flashed across his face. It was so brief she could have imagined it. His mouth quirked in a grim smile.

  ‘And now who is being presumptuous?’ he said dryly.

  It was a simple response but it was as if he had hit her with a bucket of icy water.

  The aircraft wheels landed on the runway with a dull sound, echoing the thud Luna felt in her heart at Ruy’s words. Her thoughts blanked off. The plane slowed to taxi to the terminal. She gave him a sideways glance. He had leaned his head back against his seat and his eyes were closed. Dark lashes fanned out on a tanned face. It was really unfair that a man should have such long, thick eyelashes. His hands rested on his closed laptop; strong hands with long, tapering fingers and beautifully groomed nails.

  Having burned her boats, Luna’s eyes moistened infuriatingly as the impact of what she had just done hit her.

  The plane ground to a halt and the seatbelt sign switched off. Ruy opened his eyes and passed a hand over his head, fingers raking through his thick, black hair. Unfastening his seatbelt, he pulled his hard, lean frame up out of the seat with one arm. He looked completely relaxed. Bending over, he pulled his briefcase from under the seat in front of him, slipped his laptop inside and, without so much as a glance in Luna’s direction, stood at the edge of the aisle, lending her a view of his broad shoulders.

  He forged ahead to the front, leaving her behind. Having recovered her jacket in the overhead bin, Luna disembarked with the other passengers. Once in the baggage claim area, waiting for her suitcases, her eyes eagerly scanned the crowd milling around the carousel. She looked for his tall, elegant figure, but he had disappeared altogether.

  * * *

  Ruy was out of the plane in no time. He had no luggage, so he made his way immediately to the exit of the small, neat airport building and out into the afternoon sun, looking for Chico.

  The thought of seeing his old friend usually put a smile on Ruy’s face, but that afternoon his mood was unusually pensive.

  He had tried to ignore the wild emotion that had taken over his senses since he first set eyes on Luna and now he had bumped into her three times in twenty-four hours. Seeing her suddenly again on the plane had provoked an immediate rush of desire and for a while he had found it difficult to drag his gaze from her. She had tied her hair back carelessly into a ponytail and her skin, devoid of make-up, was luminous.

  So young, so innocent, and so indescribably beautiful.

  Normally, innocence was not something that beguiled him but with this woman it was enticingly combined with a feisty defiance that did strange and wonderful things to him.

  She may not have believed in fate but he did. Particularly when he’d learned her name.

  Luna. It had to be the same Luna. He’d detected the American accent and then found out she was heading to Cádiz. At that point, he had quietly acknowledged that the game was on, taking a mischievous pleasure in having the advantage. Granted, she wasn’t the kind of woman who was likely to find his spontaneous ruse amusing, but he would cross that bridge later. Perhaps he shouldn’t have indulged himself, but he’d enjoyed their banter all the more for it. Besides, something about this surprising, intoxicating woman made him curious to know what made her tick.

  He wanted to know so badly, it almost alarmed him. So he was disappointed that Luna had remained stubbornly cool and had insisted on misinterpreting his intentions. She had reacted as if they were complete strangers and he was trying his luck. True, his past was not blameless. With any other woman he would have made a much more obvious move and then enjoyed the gratification that swiftly followed. He wasn’t sure what to call this unfamiliar feeling that unfurled swiftly in his chest, alongside the unparalleled heat in his loins, when he thought of her, but his intentions towards Luna were honourable. Something about her had held him back, even though he recognized the spark of fire in her eyes and what it meant: the attraction was there.

  He’d seen the signs of female interest before, but Luna was far more difficult to read: she was complicated, unpredictable. There was a story behind her hesitant gaze that piqued his fascination. She was different to any other woman he’d ever met – as fresh as a spring morning, with a lively intelligence that excited him as much as the bewitching amber pools of her eyes or the alluring curves of her body. As for her attempts at proud self-control, the vulnerability she sought to hide slipped through at the edges, tinged with sadness …

  Why did she not trust him? Maybe she had been hurt. Obviously a woman with those angelic looks must have numerous men after her. Yet she seemed so innocent, so fresh, so untouched.

  Now that he had found her, he was determined not to be put off, no matter how tough the obstacles. So he strove to control his rising passion, instinctively aware that if he frightened her at the outset, he would damage his cause irreparably. Still, it had all gone wrong. She had slammed the door in his face.

  Ruy scanned the outside of Jerez La Parra Airport; the building was fronted by a neat line of palm trees, partly shading a lon
g row of cars. His eyes found the waiting vintage 1947 Austin limousine, its maroon and black body shining in the afternoon sun. Leaning against it was a tall man, built like an ox, his long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He was smoking a cigarette, which he flicked it to the ground when he saw Ruy approach. A broad grin split his weathered face, revealing a couple of missing teeth.

  Ruy dropped his bag to the ground.

  ‘Chico!’

  He clapped his hands on his friend’s shoulders.

  Ruy had known Chico since they were boys and looked upon the gypsy as the older brother he’d never had. In fact, they were more than brothers, and Chico was one of the only people in whom he ever confided.

  ‘Ruy! It’s good to have you back, hermanito, little brother.’ Chico grabbed the younger man’s neck in the crook of his arm and gave him a rough embrace, before ruffling his hair with one massive hand. He gave a quick pull to the lapel of Ruy’s tailored jacket. ‘I keep forgetting how good you always look in fancy clothes.’

  Ruy pushed away from him with a playful jab to Chico’s solid wall of stomach. He gestured at his friend’s ripped jeans and loud Hawaiian shirt. ‘And I see you’ve put on your best outfit to meet me from the airport. I’m touched.’

  Chico’s coal-black eyes, a little close together, made him appear slightly inscrutable, though he managed a comically indignant look. ‘What can I say, eh? My chauffeur’s uniform is at the drycleaners. Besides, this is my lucky shirt. I wore it when I asked Morena to marry me.’

  ‘Lucky for you, unlucky for Morena,’ Ruy laughed, dodging a swipe from Chico, who grinned.

  ‘Even Morena isn’t immune to my charm and good looks. Come on, give me that bag, you little brat,’ he said, throwing him the car keys. ‘You can drive.’