Poppy turned around and walked back to the stairs. This time, she looked up at the cliff face itself, noticing how steep and forbidding it was. Without the stone-cut stairs, the beach would be totally inaccessible to anyone not in a boat.
She climbed the steps slowly, weighted down by her gathered treasures. At the top, she found herself out of breath.
She also found Carlos de la Guerra.
The previous encounter that day had not deceived her. He was just as good-looking as she remembered. Possibly more so. Oh, it would be so much better if he were not so handsome, she thought. His nearly black hair and deep brown eyes had haunted her dreams for months. And his smile made her knees just a little wobbly. (No, surely that was the long hike up the stairs.)
He stood near the head of the steps, as if he’d merely been looking out at the water. But something in his stance was too poised, too expectant. Poppy wondered if he had been waiting for her.
“Hello,” he said. “What did you discover down below?”
“Nothing much.” To make her point, she held up her hands to show the assorted objects.
“You have your souvenirs already?”
“Well, that way I can leave at any time,” she said, a bit tartly. (The long climb didn’t help her temper, though she reminded herself that she intended to behave in a more lady-like way.)
Carlos frowned slightly. “Mrs. Towers said you were to stay through August.”
“That was before I knew you were here.” Poppy began to walk toward the house.
“Am I so offensive to you?” he asked, keeping pace with her.
“Not at all, Señor de la Guerra. In fact, I have no opinion of you.”
He said, “I doubt that. If you have no opinion, why are you hurrying away from me?”
Poppy stopped short. “I am doing no such thing.”
“You are. And I wish you’d stop for just a moment. I want to have a word with you,” he said.
“Choose it carefully,” she warned.
“What?”
“What?” she repeated. “You wanted one word with me and that’s what you chose? How disappointing.”
Carlos took a breath. “You’re not making this easy.”
“Why should I?”
“Are you angry at me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is there any reason for me to be angry, considering that I have not seen or spoken with you for over a year?”
“I’ve been engaged.”
Poppy felt her heart skip. “Congratulations.”
“Oh, no. That’s not what I meant,” he said, rather too quickly. “I’ve been occupied. With family business.”
Poppy was overheated, tired, and her arms were full of beach detritus. She wasn’t patient by nature, and she had no reserves left.
“Señor de la Guerra,” she said, standing up to her full height, which was still considerably less than his. “Contrary to what you may think, your absence has not altered my daily round, nor has it caused me to weep bitter tears. Since we are both staying at this house, there is no reason to avoid each other. But do not expect me to wait upon your next word…if only because it seems to take months for you to think of your next word. Now please excuse me.”
She started walking again, and this time Carlos did not follow her. She should feel triumphant at delivering such a dressing-down. But seeing Carlos silenced brought her little joy, even if she was the victor.
Before Poppy could make it to the safety of her room, she was accosted again, this time by Blanche Ainsworth.
