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But it was not the geraniums that caught her attention, it was the expression in his eyes. Then the first raindrop hit her face, then another and another. The moment gone, she lifted her face to the heavens with a sigh. If ever a cold shower had been providential, this one was.
‘This way,’ he said, gesturing for Mari to go ahead of him into a wide, open porch made of oak that had silvered with age. ‘Not a creaking door in sight.’ He lifted the heavy latch on a massive door just to his right.
‘What about bats?’
‘Creatures with sharp teeth that launch themselves into the unknown with only instinct to protect them. I would have thought that you would feel something in common with them.’
Stepping under his arm and through the huge door that swung inwards as he lifted the latch, she found herself standing in a kitchen. She had barely taken in the room’s massive proportions or the latest in kitchen design sitting cheek by steam oven with the original stone flags and heavy oak aged beams, when the niggle in her head solidified into a thought.
‘How can this be a standing arrangement? You’re meant to be on your honeymoon,’ she blurted before she had considered the wisdom of reminding him where he might have been and with whom.
If the reminder had caused him pain, he was hiding it well. His inscrutable expression told her little, but that could be due to the fact that the dark shadow on his jaw and chin upped the dark, dangerous, moody stakes considerably.
‘The plan had been for Elise to fly out to Maldives immediately. I intended to join her at the weekend.’
Her eyes went round. ‘She was going on honeymoon alone?’ Wasn’t that taking independence a bit far?
‘You have a comment to—’ He broke off as two small dogs burst into the room, yapping loudly.
Mari watched as he bent to pat them, speaking to them in Spanish and showing more warmth for the animals than she’d yet seen him display to humans. Maybe he preferred them—she gave a half smile, as she did herself on occasion.
He straightened up just as a larger dog the size of a small donkey padded at a more leisurely pace into the room. The dog wagged its tail and stood placidly while he stroked its ears.
‘You were saying...?’
Caught staring and with what she suspected might have been a soppy smile on her face, she glared. ‘I wasn’t, but, if you must know, if my new husband chose to spend the first few days of our honeymoon with his grandmother rather than me, I’d not be happy.’
‘Well, he hasn’t, has he?’
It took her a moment to catch his meaning. When she did she flushed. ‘This isn’t the same. It’s business.’
‘So you would expect your real husband to put you ahead of everything else—work, family, duty...? My grandmother will not be here forever.’
‘Well, I’d have come with you obviously... I mean, hypothetically and not you...’
Their eyes connected and she saw a flicker of consciousness in his dark eyes before he bent to stroke one of the animals at his feet who, barometers of his mood, began to yap.
Who said animals and children knew? she thought, watching as the larger dog began to lick Sebastian’s hand with slavish devotion.
‘What have you told your grandmother about me?’
Before Seb could respond a small bearded figure wearing a dressing gown and slippers shuffled into the kitchen. He carried a rifle, which he lowered when he saw Seb.
Deeply alarmed by the presence of a firearm, Mari had retreated instinctively behind the big scrubbed table. She relaxed slightly as the armed man wrung Seb’s hand up and down and addressed him in excited-sounding Spanish.
Seb responded in the same language. He spoke for a few moments and then gestured towards Mari.
‘Relax, it is not loaded.’
He said something to the older man, who looked Mari’s way, laughed and put the rifle down on the table. He waved his hands, saying something to her slowly.
‘Tomas says he is a harmless old man,’ Seb translated, saying something that made the man laugh again. ‘He says not to be afraid. I contacted him from the airport to say we would be arriving. My grandmother had already retired, but your room is ready.’
She managed a weak smile, which made the man tip his head in acknowledgement before he walked in the direction he had entered. Turning back, he gestured for her to follow him.
‘Go. Tomas will show you to your room. If there’s anything you want...’
Her eyes brushed his and she knew she was blushing. ‘There won’t be.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THOUGH SHE WAS convinced she wouldn’t be able to, Mari finally did drift off. She had no idea how long she actually slept, but it was still dark when she woke up, her body bathed in sweat, her heart thudding; only wisps of the nightmare remained. As they slipped away, reality came rushing in.
