Legacy Page 8

  As the old limo sped away from Jerez, Ruy leant his forearm on the edge of the open window, enjoying the warm breeze rushing in and watching the honey-brown fields pass by. Under a hot cobalt-blue sky, the scenery gradually gave way to clumps of dark-green juniper trees and lines of olive groves laid over the softly undulating landscape.

  He was glad to be going home.

  ‘So, Ruy, when will we be seeing you at the camp?’ Chico lit up a cigarette and blew the smoke sideways out of his mouth. ‘Carmencita is big now and due in a couple of weeks. She and Juan want to see you before the birth.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll come. Just as soon as I get a few things sorted.’

  Luna will be in Cádiz, Ruy thought. It was only a matter of time before they met again and this time he would not mess things up.

  Chico drew on his cigarette and stared out of the window. ‘Your father said he would pay a visit too but we haven’t seen him in a while. The business seems to take up more of his time these days.’

  Ruy sighed. ‘He should make more time. I sometimes wonder if Papá remembers where he came from.’

  Chico glanced across at Ruy. ‘Of course he does. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have let you run around the camp since you were knee-high. Exposed you to your Caló roots.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose.’

  ‘No “suppose”, Ruy. Gitano blood still runs strong in his veins. Make no mistake, as the gypsy queen’s eldest son he did his duty, sure enough. But times have changed now. Every man makes his own way in the world. You and your father are not so different. You’ve always followed your star, ignored what other people have said.’

  There was a silence while Chico eyed his young friend between drags on his cigarette.

  ‘So, hermanito, spill the beans.’

  Ruy looked sideways at Chico and then back to the road. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You think you can fool me? I know you too well. Did something happen in Barcelona? If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a woman.’

  Ruy frowned. He should have known that he could never get anything past his gitano friend.

  Chico let out a rumbling chuckle. ‘But no woman ever made you look like that.’

  ‘Okay, okay, you win.’ Ruy smiled ruefully. ‘Yes, it’s a woman.’

  ‘But not just any woman.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In that case, I’m assuming this woman has succeeded in evading the famous Ruy charm?’

  Ruy shrugged. ‘“I’m not looking for male attention” is certainly written all over her, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘You want to know your problem?’

  ‘No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.’

  ‘It’s that women have always fallen at your feet,’ Chico continued, without drawing breath, ‘because you’re a handsome, charming rascal and they’ve always let you know it. Though I can’t see it myself.’ He turned his head, grinning, gap-toothed, at Ruy. ‘But you’ve been spoilt by these women who’ve come and gone, and all that can make a man arrogant.’

  Ruy sighed, his eyes on the long straight road of the Autopista del Sur, now flanked on either side by stone pine trees. ‘You know what, Chico? You’re at your most annoying when you’re right.’

  Chico flicked his cigarette out of the window. ‘It’s a burden I live with every day.’

  Ruy paused. ‘Anyway, it’s not idle adventure I’m looking for this time. It’s not as simple as that.’

  Chico raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re a hunter, Ruy. You love women and you love the chase … and the victory. You’ve never wanted to be tied down by one woman.’

  Chico was right. Again. Over the years, there had been a couple of long-term liaisons that had led to nothing, because Ruy could never envisage a lifetime with the same person. Now, women still came and went but the excitement, the sexual emotion he had felt with some, had deserted him. He was blasé about it these days and, whenever he was intimate with a woman, he just went through the motions, taking physical pleasure from the encounter but nothing more.

  Yet suddenly, now, the sleeping beast had been aroused. It was like a fever burning within him. He had not been rebuffed by Luna’s coolness, but instead consumed by an insane drive to try and melt the wall of ice about her.

  Yes, Ruy admitted it: he was a hunter and, unknowingly, by pushing his advances away, Luna had only increased his mounting ardour. Some raw, primitive instinct within him wanted to conquer her, but he was forced to realize that he wanted to break down her defensive barriers in more subtle ways.

  ‘She’s different from any woman I’ve met before, Chico. All those women I’ve known can be tagged instantly, but there’s no label on this one.’

  ‘So, do you think she likes you too?’

  Ruy remembered the way she had looked at him in the bar. She’d skilfully kept her shield up, but he had felt it in the way she’d shivered when he accidentally brushed against her hand.

  ‘Yes, but she told me to leave her alone.’ His brow furrowed at the memory of Luna’s scathing remarks. He rubbed his face with one hand and returned it to the wheel. ‘In fact, she thinks I try to twist women round my little finger and pay them absurd compliments.’

  Chico barked out a laugh. ‘Hey, hermanito, I like her already!’

  Ruy’s expression relaxed into a grin. ‘Okay, so maybe I deserved it a tiny bit, but she isn’t going to get rid of me so easily.’

  Chico reached for the cigarette packet in his top pocket. ‘Heh, you see? There’s the Ruy I know and love. Comes out fighting.’ He tapped a cigarette on the dashboard. ‘Sounds like you’ll just have to watch yourself. But you’re a clever man, you’ll figure it out.’

  Ruy watched the signs for Cádiz flash past as he joined the long access road from the mainland to the city. Yes, the next time he saw her he would have to be more careful. He would tell Chico the rest later, after he’d seen Luna again.

  She had gotten under his skin. It wasn’t just the hot surge of desire that gripped him whenever she was near. The swell of some deeper emotion lurked beneath. Was he heading for trouble? Some foolish part of him didn’t care, and he wasn’t sure whether to greet this unfamiliar feeling with joy or apprehension.

  * * *

  Luna slowed the metallic blue Mercedes as she rounded the bend looking for the beach house. The instructions Montez had given her said to look out for a house behind a pink wall with a tiled top.

  There.

  Luna saw it in the distance on the right and breathed a deep sigh.

  Throughout the whole drive from Jerez airport, she had berated herself. She could not remember ever having acted so foolishly with a man. Why did Ruy have this effect on her, making her perversely uncivil, even in the face of her outrageous attraction to him? She didn’t know which was worse, the fact that she’d told him so insultingly not to look for her in Cádiz, or that he had implied he’d not thought of it.

  Maybe it’s all for the best, she decided.

  Anyhow, she’d been relieved not to have to face him again once she’d collected her luggage. Despite her rude behaviour, apologizing was not something she wanted to do, even if she had been in the wrong. Maybe she had misjudged his intentions … but had she really? She would never know. Yes, it was definitely all for the best. In a few days, this small mishap would be filed away to join other painful memories buried in the depths of her mind.

  She turned the hire car off the main road, on to the gravel parking strip outside the house. A bank of pine trees behind it extended along the top of the beach, separating it from the road and interspersed with low shrubs, which gradually thinned out down towards the golden sand.

  Diego Montez was waiting for Luna, leaning against the coral pink wall, smoking under the shade of a flamboyantly giant palm tree. He was dark blonde, well built and deeply tanned, which was all the more accentuated by his informal, open-necked white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow that was tucked into a tight pair of jeans. In the afternoon heat he looked c
ool. As he watched Luna pull up, he threw away his cigarette, raised his hand in salute, and ambled towards her with the air of a man who had the day off.

  ‘Señorita Ward, welcome to Cádiz,’ he said in strongly accented English. ‘I hope you had a pleasant flight, and the car journey wasn’t too tiring.’ He wore dark glasses so she could not see his eyes, but she got a glimpse of even white teeth as a warm smile spread across his face. He opened the car door to help her out.

  ‘Señor Montez, good to meet you,’ Luna answered him in English. For some reason, she felt like playing the tourist to maintain some distance. She stepped out of the car and briefly shook his hand. ‘It’s been a long day, but the drive was straightforward. The directions you gave me to the house were perfect, thank you.’

  It was then that she looked out across the sea. The beauty of the landscape took her breath away.

  Her new temporary home was situated directly on an isolated stretch of beach, offering spectacular views of the ocean and Puerto de Santa María. In the distance she could just make out the outline of the Sierra de Cádiz, that range of densely wooded, rugged hills with whitewashed villages, los Pueblos Blancos, clinging to its side. The white beach house itself looked as though it had sprouted out of the sand like the wild pine trees and fig bushes that grew around it.

  It couldn’t be more different to the urban chic of her redbrick, federal-style townhouse back in Greenwich Village, she mused. The endless vista here was exhilarating.

  Diego Montez gestured towards the car. ‘Would you like me to help you with your luggage now or would you prefer to have a look at the house first?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Señor Montez. I’ll take it in myself later on, thank you.’

  ‘Please call me Diego,’ he said as they walked to the wroughtiron gate.

  Luna merely smiled politely and read out the tiled name on the wall, ‘La Gaviota, The Seagull. That’s a pretty name.’

  ‘The house was designed to look like a bird,’ he told her as he pressed down the latch and pushed the small gate, which opened with a creak.

  It was a small, two-storey, unusual-looking building with whitewashed walls, interspersed with floor-to-ceiling sliding windows, a domed roof and three terraces. The one at ground level led down to the beach, while the two on the upper floor jutted out on the north-east and south-east sides of the house, like wings of a giant bird about to take flight.

  Montez inserted the key in the lock of the front door and held it open for Luna, who found herself in a large whitewashed room, bathed in early-evening sunlight. He drew back the silk voile curtain and pushed open the sliding glass doors. The fabulous view of the dazzling white beach, which seemed to run to infinity alongside the indigo sea, greeted her in a flash of splendour as she stepped out on to the wide terrace.

  ‘This really is a magical corner of the world,’ she murmured.

  The luminosity of the air sparkled like champagne, making Luna inhale deeply. The breeze was fresh and laden with the scent of seaweed and salt. All the tiredness and the troubles of the last forty-eight hours vanished. For two days she had been another woman, an unsophisticated, gauche stranger to herself. Here, she felt revived and happy again.

  ‘It’s a quiet, undisturbed patch of beach, a very private place,’ the estate agent said, following her out on to the terrace and leaning against the iron balustrade. ‘Many artists and writers have come here to work, and have found it an inspiring haven.’

  ‘I’m surprised the rent is so reasonable. You also mentioned in your email that it’s up for sale, didn’t you?’

  ‘Sí. The past few years have been difficult in this business. The property market and the tourist industry have been at an all-time low. The proprietor, Señor Alvarez, owns many villas and has been unable to let them as well as he used to. He built La Gaviota for his personal use about sixty years ago, inspired by the work of a well known Andalucían avant-garde architect, Eduardo Rafael Ruiz de Salazar. You’re paying a minimum rent for a unique creation. I’m sure if you made an offer today, you could acquire this house at a very interesting price.’

  Luna raised an eyebrow and laughed. ‘Today? I’ve only just got here!’ She was amused at his overt attempt at hard sell. ‘Though I can see the views alone make it tempting for anyone wanting a permanent home here.’

  ‘You are not considering staying in Cádiz permanently?’ He had taken off his sunglasses and was looking at Luna intently, his emerald-green eyes surveying her appreciatively.

  She noticed that his irises were quite striking, and he was definitely handsome, but she was in no mood for male scrutiny just now. Besides, she was used to this look. It only ever seemed to take in the pleasing outward package, or see a cool challenge to a male ego. No man had ever looked at her and seen the real Luna, she was sure of it. She gazed out to sea, scanning the horizon, trying not to think about Ruy.

  ‘No, I’m not in Cádiz permanently,’ she told him.

  ‘I must admit, I was surprised that you chose La Gaviota,’ he continued. ‘This place is isolated. Not many people like to be cut off like this. The next set of casitas is about three hundred metres away.’

  Luna shrugged. ‘I’m fond of my privacy.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re a very beautiful woman. Most women would think twice about living in such a deserted place.’

  At his suggestion, an instinctive twist of nerves caught in her stomach, but she ignored it. If Montez was interested in selling her the house, he wasn’t exactly helping his cause. Nevertheless, she was not going to be condescended to as a helpless female.

  She gave him a questioning look. ‘Does the house have an alarm system?’

  ‘Yes, I will show you the two systems before I leave.’

  Luna smiled tightly. ‘Then I should have nothing to worry about. Isn’t that so?’

  He laughed, his gaze sweeping over her, up and down. ‘You’re a courageous woman, eh?’

  She turned away again to look at the ocean. ‘Not really, I’ve lived alone before. Isolation doesn’t frighten me, provided I’ve the necessary protection.’

  ‘The alarm systems here are good. There’s one for the outside, another for inside, but we’ll come to that at the end. Shall I show you the rest of the house?’

  The living room was modern, simple and furnished with tasteful, basic furniture. The décor was blue and white, with a profusion of indoor plants. ‘It is all designed to reflect the beautiful atmosphere of Cádiz,’ Montez pointed out.

  The whitewashed beamed ceiling was high, with recessed lights; the floor was of polished white marble. Facing the sea view was a large sofa, covered in thick white linen fabric with plump feather cushions in various tones of blue, two armchairs and a good-sized square coffee table, upon which a large conch shell had been placed in lieu of an ashtray. In a corner, at one end of the room, four bamboo chairs painted white were set around a circular dining table with a blue-and-white checked tablecloth and a bowl of yellow roses in the middle. In the opposite corner, a small wrought-iron spiral staircase clung to the wall.

  They entered the narrow kitchen that ran the length of the house, and Luna was pleased to see it was well equipped and light, with the same spectacular views. A small cloakroom to the right of the front door had a stone basin and a long mirror with an antique wrought-iron surround.

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ Montez offered as he started up the ornate staircase that spiralled in an elegant curve to the bedroom.

  Here again the windows were floor-to-ceiling sliding sheets of reinforced glass on three sides, allowing unobstructed views and ensuring a large amount of natural light during the day. Two of the windows opened on to terraces with fabulous north-eastern and south-eastern views over the countryside. Luna couldn’t help but gasp. From this vantage point, she had an almost 180-degree perspective of those far-off dark green hills and the harbour’s lighthouse, which had just begun sweeping its powerful and comforting beam over the Atlantic twilight.


  She took in the oversized bed with its beautiful Spanish wrought-iron headboard. It was covered with an old-fashioned bedspread of thick white lace and was draped with a snowy mosquito net, secured by a satin tie-back. The dressing table and chair were also antique-looking. Its oval, free-standing, Murano glass mirror with silver inlay in its frame, combined with the beautiful cobalt-blue Murano glass chandelier hanging from the beamed ceiling, lent a touch of bygone charm to the room, which she found an attractive contrast to the downstairs living area.

  Leading off the bedroom was a dressing room with a walkin wardrobe, and a white marble bathroom, which had a skylight ceiling.

  ‘The house is air-conditioned throughout and the system is reversible, so in the winter months you won’t be cold,’ Montez explained.

  They went back downstairs and he showed her how to use the alarm systems, which Luna satisfied herself were more than adequate.

  ‘In addition, all the rooms have shutters. I would recommend you close them whenever you leave the house, and maybe on the ground floor at night as an extra security precaution,’ Montez advised her.

  ‘Thanks, Diego, you’ve been very helpful. I’m delighted the house has such adventurous architecture. It’s wonderful! I’ve fallen in love with it already.’

  Luna looked around. She wasn’t just being polite – this was a perfect haven. She could imagine taking walks on the beach and spending hours on the terrace, reading or just gazing at the view.

  The estate agent beamed. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy here. I’ll help you bring in your suitcases now.’

  ‘You really don’t need to,’ she assured him quickly.

  He flashed her a chivalrous grin. ‘I insist, señorita. It’s the least I can do.’

  Luna thought of the narrow spiral staircase and the fact that she’d not yet learned how to travel light. She smiled. ‘You’re very kind. Thank you.’

  Montez carried her luggage up to the bedroom and then Luna walked him back to the gate.

  When she held out her hand, he took it and kept it in his. ‘Forgive me if I sound too bold,’ he began, ‘but will you have dinner with me tonight? It would give me great pleasure to show you the town, as you’re new to Cádiz. Maybe we could discuss the house further. La Gaviota is unique, and it can be yours for half its real value.’