courtesy outrigger ride, seen turtles swimming over the reefs and tried a little gentle bodysurfing. Other than that she had done absolutely nothing except laze and swim and pass the days in peace and quiet.
I could stay here for ever, she thought as she lay on her sunbed, half drifting off to sleep in the shaded warmth, soothed by the murmur of the breeze in the palm fronds, the lap of the waves on the sand. Other than that, there was silence all around her.
Until a voice spoke above her. Deep and accented.
‘Hello, Celeste.’
She jackknifed to a sitting position, shock—more than shock—jagging through her.
Rafael Sanguardo, clad in a dark blue T-shirt and pale board shorts, reached out a hand to pull an adjacent empty sunbed closer, and lowered his long, lean body down on it.
‘Before you ask—because I can see the question...or rather the outraged demand...is on your lips,’ he informed her, ‘you can blame your booker. I bullied him shamelessly to tell me where your shoot was, and then found your erstwhile colleagues disporting themselves on Oahu. And I must say...’ he glanced around ‘...you have made a wiser choice than they. This, ’ Rafael said appreciatively, ‘is fabulous.’
He settled himself back on the sunbed. One of the beach staff came up, having seen a new arrival, and Rafael turned to Celeste, nodding at her empty glass of fruit juice.
‘A refill on that?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but made his own request, smiling at the young Hawaiian.
When he’d gone, Rafael turned to Celeste again. Emotion kicked in him. It was so good to see her again! To be able to let his eyes take in the incredible beauty of her body, her face, to drink it in like the sweetest nectar. The days since he’d last set eyes on her—handing her out of his car after they’d taken the hapless Louise home—had stretched to an endless age. But now he was seeing her again. She was here, so close to him, and it was good—oh, it was good!
She was staring at him. But not with the expression that he was gazing at her with.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said, her voice staccato with shock.
Dark lashes lowered over darker eyes. Then he spoke, his voice different from the tone he’d used just now. Sombre. Grave. ‘This is my last attempt, Celeste. Allow me it—because if I fail now, then you have my word. I will let you be. I will leave you alone.’
Alone in that sad, bleak, empty world you tell me you live in, bereft of all that romance can offer the human spirit—denying yourself all that could be yours...all that I could give to you...
Her eyes were troubled.
‘I thought I was alone,’ she heard herself say.
His gaze was level on her. ‘As I’ve promised, we will take it as slowly as you need.’ Rafael’s eyes held hers. ‘I ask only that you give me a chance.’
For an endless moment, it seemed to her, his eyes went on holding hers, asking a question to which she could give no answer. Had no answer to give.
She knew, with a hollowing of dismay, that the leap in her heart-rate had nothing to do with shock. And everything to do with Rafael Sanguardo walking back into her life.
She shut her eyes, willing herself, hopelessly, to banish his image—the image that had leapt into her retinas, burning with a vividness that was as shocking as recognising his voice.
‘I can’t stop you,’ she said, her tone low. ‘This is a hotel—if you want to stay here you can. But don’t think you can just take it for granted that I’ll—’ She stopped.
‘Celeste, about you I take nothing for granted, I assure you,’ Rafael said dryly. ‘Every step of the way with you is a minefield. Every moment of communication I achieve with you makes me feel I deserve a medal!’
His voice had changed again—she could hear it.
‘I ask nothing from you except your time and...’ he chose his words carefully ‘...your trust. Trust me and spend time with me. You may enjoy it. I’ll make no demands on
I could stay here for ever, she thought as she lay on her sunbed, half drifting off to sleep in the shaded warmth, soothed by the murmur of the breeze in the palm fronds, the lap of the waves on the sand. Other than that, there was silence all around her.
Until a voice spoke above her. Deep and accented.
‘Hello, Celeste.’
She jackknifed to a sitting position, shock—more than shock—jagging through her.
Rafael Sanguardo, clad in a dark blue T-shirt and pale board shorts, reached out a hand to pull an adjacent empty sunbed closer, and lowered his long, lean body down on it.
‘Before you ask—because I can see the question...or rather the outraged demand...is on your lips,’ he informed her, ‘you can blame your booker. I bullied him shamelessly to tell me where your shoot was, and then found your erstwhile colleagues disporting themselves on Oahu. And I must say...’ he glanced around ‘...you have made a wiser choice than they. This, ’ Rafael said appreciatively, ‘is fabulous.’
He settled himself back on the sunbed. One of the beach staff came up, having seen a new arrival, and Rafael turned to Celeste, nodding at her empty glass of fruit juice.
‘A refill on that?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but made his own request, smiling at the young Hawaiian.
When he’d gone, Rafael turned to Celeste again. Emotion kicked in him. It was so good to see her again! To be able to let his eyes take in the incredible beauty of her body, her face, to drink it in like the sweetest nectar. The days since he’d last set eyes on her—handing her out of his car after they’d taken the hapless Louise home—had stretched to an endless age. But now he was seeing her again. She was here, so close to him, and it was good—oh, it was good!
She was staring at him. But not with the expression that he was gazing at her with.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said, her voice staccato with shock.
Dark lashes lowered over darker eyes. Then he spoke, his voice different from the tone he’d used just now. Sombre. Grave. ‘This is my last attempt, Celeste. Allow me it—because if I fail now, then you have my word. I will let you be. I will leave you alone.’
Alone in that sad, bleak, empty world you tell me you live in, bereft of all that romance can offer the human spirit—denying yourself all that could be yours...all that I could give to you...
Her eyes were troubled.
‘I thought I was alone,’ she heard herself say.
His gaze was level on her. ‘As I’ve promised, we will take it as slowly as you need.’ Rafael’s eyes held hers. ‘I ask only that you give me a chance.’
For an endless moment, it seemed to her, his eyes went on holding hers, asking a question to which she could give no answer. Had no answer to give.
She knew, with a hollowing of dismay, that the leap in her heart-rate had nothing to do with shock. And everything to do with Rafael Sanguardo walking back into her life.
She shut her eyes, willing herself, hopelessly, to banish his image—the image that had leapt into her retinas, burning with a vividness that was as shocking as recognising his voice.
‘I can’t stop you,’ she said, her tone low. ‘This is a hotel—if you want to stay here you can. But don’t think you can just take it for granted that I’ll—’ She stopped.
‘Celeste, about you I take nothing for granted, I assure you,’ Rafael said dryly. ‘Every step of the way with you is a minefield. Every moment of communication I achieve with you makes me feel I deserve a medal!’
His voice had changed again—she could hear it.
‘I ask nothing from you except your time and...’ he chose his words carefully ‘...your trust. Trust me and spend time with me. You may enjoy it. I’ll make no demands on
Similar Books
