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‘Is something wrong?’ he asked when she bit her lip and frowned.
Only that it was time for her to get real. Don Xavier had only shown an interest in Rosie and the island when Doña Anna had given him no option.
‘Nothing,’ she said, knowing she must concentrate on the task in hand with a brain that had turned to mush from lack of sleep.
‘I’d like to start with the path down to the beach.’
Xavier shot everything into sharp focus with just those few words. The path was narrow, and dangerously steep. There were loose rocks and shale where you could slip.
‘This looks dangerous,’ he said when they reached the top of the path.
If only he could see the island through her eyes—
‘Hang on to me,’ he insisted, offering her a steadying hand.
‘It’s fine. I go down here every day,’ she said blithely, ignoring his help.
‘If you come down here on your own, and you fall, you could lie here for hours,’ he said. ‘There should be a handrail, at least—’
She took big, reckless steps, just to prove a point.
‘Wait!’ he commanded, catching up with her. ‘I don’t want to be clearing up your mess if you fall onto the rocks.’
‘I don’t imagine you do,’ she yelled back, slithering on regardless. ‘How would that look in court?’
And then, somehow, he got in front of her. If she’d taken chances descending, he’d taken more. ‘Take my hand,’ he insisted coldly.
She ground her jaw and did as he asked. He showed no sign of moving otherwise. There was nothing cold about his hand; his grip was warm and firm, and left her breathless with mounting excitement. Until she remembered where they were and who he was.
‘Watch where you put your feet,’ he rapped.
Keeping them out of her mouth was her biggest problem.
‘Tired already?’ he demanded when she stopped halfway down.
‘No. I’m admiring the view,’ she said, refusing to make eye contact with a man who made her feel all sorts of unwanted things.
‘You must have been impressed when you saw the coastline for the first time?’ he observed in the most relaxed piece of conversation they’d shared.
‘Seeing the beauty of the island after the city?’ she said, feeling she should respond. ‘You’ve got no idea.’
‘I have some,’ he argued, staring out to sea. ‘I’m seeing things all over again.’
Thanks to her? Rosie wondered, watching the breeze ruffle Xavier’s hair. No. She didn’t flatter herself to that extent. Still, at least they were relaxing a little with each other, and that couldn’t be a bad thing. ‘After living in the orphanage, coming here was like visiting heaven on a day pass,’ she admitted. ‘I was startled by the island’s beauty. Everywhere I turned, the vistas, the wide-open spaces, the freedom...’ She stretched out her arms as if she could touch it. ‘I couldn’t see a single flaw—’
‘And now?’ he asked.
Her smile died. She hadn’t seen a single flaw on the island until Xavier arrived.
‘There really needs to be a proper handrail here,’ he said as she continued her descent.
‘There’s no money for a handrail, not even for a rope.’ She remembered how she’d begged Doña Anna to have something put in place, so the old lady could reach her beloved beach in safety. She could have kicked herself now, for not realising there was so little money in the pot. And guilty that she’d been given a wage at all, when that money would have been better spent on repairs.
‘Did my aunt come down this path?’ Xavier asked, frowning.
‘Oh, yes,’ Rosie confirmed, smiling as she remembered. ‘She used to say she could slide down on her bottom, and climb up again on her hands and knees. “What’s wrong with that, missy?” she would ask me. Or, “Do you think I’m too old for that?”’
‘And what did you say?’ Xavier flashed her a look of genuine interest.
