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‘I gave the expected reply, of course,’ Rosie admitted wryly. ‘I’d tell her that she certainly wasn’t too old. But if I dared to venture an opinion—something like, “I just think—” she would cut me off mercilessly. “Don’t think,” she’d snap. “It’s my job to think. Not yours.”’
Xavier laughed. ‘I guess we’ve both felt the sharp edge of her tongue.’
‘I never took offence,’ Rosie explained, enjoying the new warmth between them in spite of her wariness regarding Xavier’s intentions towards the island. ‘I just accepted that, however close we were, when it came to the Isla Del Rey, there was never any doubt that Doña Anna was in charge.?
?
And always had been until she died, but now the future of the island was up for grabs.
CHAPTER SIX
HE WAS DISAPPOINTED. Not because the island held any surprises for him, but because he hadn’t expected it to be quite so run-down. The state of everything stirred his nagging sense of guilt. He should have come back long before now. He should have overruled his aunt and done everything he could to make her more comfortable, and see the island thrive. He’d always been too busy, and she’d been adamant that he must remain so. And now he knew why. She hadn’t wanted him to see that she’d lost her grip.
‘The house has always been shabby,’ he admitted when he and Rosie reached the beach. Why he felt the need to reassure her, he had no idea. ‘Not that a bit of peeling paint would have mattered to me when I was a boy—I doubt I even noticed it.’
Slipping off her sandals, Rosie started to paddle in the surf. She looked so young and so appealing it was hard to remember that she was just another hurdle in his way.
‘You must have been glad of a home to come to, after school,’ she remarked, kicking the water so the spray caught the light.
‘Doña Anna always made me welcome,’ he agreed.
‘And your parents?’
She had her back to him as she asked the question. She must have heard the rumours like everyone else. What Doña Anna hadn’t told her, the islanders would have supplied. ‘Best not mention them,’ he said.
She turned to look at him and her mouth slanted attractively as she admitted, ‘I have the same problem.’
He huffed a wry smile, but a spike of guilt stabbed him when he thought how much worse her childhood had been than his.
‘So, what did you do on the island?’ she asked, maybe trying to smooth over the awkward moment.
‘I made a raft once out of driftwood just like this. Sadly, it disintegrated once I got out to sea.’
‘Well, at least you didn’t drown.’ She laughed.
‘Almost.’
‘You should have made dens onshore. It’s a lot safer.’
‘Safety was never a consideration for me.’
‘I guess that’s why Doña Anna drove you out.’
‘I don’t blame her.’ He laughed. He’d been a rebel through and through, but when he’d left the island he had tried to be a credit to his aunt. He’d thought that meant working as hard as he could to be the best, but even that wouldn’t satisfy Doña Anna. She’d wanted an heir, a dynasty—
‘What the—?’ Rosie had splashed water at him, and now she was running away.
Choice: he could stand on his dignity, or he could give her a soaking.
As he caught up with Rosie and swung her into his arms he asked himself why his aunt had brought him back to the island and put a girl at his side like this—had she been determined to torment him from the grave?
As Rosie shrieked he dumped her in the sea. She shrieked even louder.
She recovered fast. Scooping up armfuls of seawater, she chucked it at him. He fought back. She gave as good as she got. She was so different from the sophisticated women he knew that he started to laugh, and laughing wasn’t helpful when it came to winning water fights.
‘How about I hold you under the waves for half an hour?’ he threatened.
‘How about you catch me first?’ she countered.
