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CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘I THINK WE need a change of scene.’
‘A change of scene to where?’ Suki asked without turning around from where she was basking in the spectacular sunset. In the two weeks since he’d taken the sketches of her, she’d barely seen Ramon. Each morning after breakfast, he disappeared into his studio.
His presence at lunch and dinner had been replaced by an extra attentive Teresa, who had even attempted to learn a few English phrases in order to engage her in conversation.
As much as Suki appreciated the housekeeper’s efforts her appetite had been reduced to forcing food down merely to maintain a healthy pregnancy.
She was in love with Ramon Acosta.
He was only interested in the baby she carried.
No matter how many times she told herself the latter to mitigate any further pain, her heart lurched harder, the pain growing more acute. Her hand tightened around the metal banister that edged the villa’s flat roof terrace.
Suki had taken to escaping up here when the worst of the day’s heat abated to enjoy the sunset, and the cast-iron bench seats with plump cushions set beneath a simple ivy-covered gazebo were the perfect place to retreat. Either with a book or with the thoughts that were determined not to leave her be.
Hearing the clatter of crockery behind her, she turned to see one of Teresa’s minions was heading their way holding a tray. Suki had stopped wondering how the housekeeper knew when to strike with her snacks but then discovered there was actually a twenty-four-hour roster in the kitchen ensuring the endless supply of food.
The unexpected appearance and steady approach of the man who dominated those thoughts sent a skitter of alarm over her skin.
And equally punishing, he was once again shirtless.
She couldn’t hide her reaction to the electrifying stimulus or stop the breath that caught dangerously in her midriff, all of which Ramon clocked with perceptive eyes.
‘Come and sit down.’ He indicated the chairs, murmuring an order to the maid before relieving her of the tray of refreshing drinks and a plate of yemitas.
Leaving the balcony, she took a seat on the sofa, numbly accepting a cup of decaf coffee she had no interest in drinking and a small platter of past
ries.
Ramon helped himself to an espresso before he snagged one pastry for himself. Sitting back, he chewed and swallowed, his inscrutable eyes on her. ‘My art foundation holds a month-long talent-sourcing contest for Cuban artists every September. It’s open to twenty-five entrants. The final selection is made in mid-October and we showcase ten of them at my galleries over a two-week period.’
The unexpected subject that had nothing to do with food or vitamins piqued her interest. ‘Here in Cuba?’
He nodded. ‘Initially, but also in other Piedra Galleries. Teresa tells me you’ve stopped eating and are a whisper away from going stir crazy. Now your mother is back in London undergoing the second stage of her treatment, I think we should visit the galleries together. We can stop in London to see your mother after Madrid.’
She didn’t clock the middle part of his statement immediately because she was too busy being giddy at the thought of time spent on something else other than her tormenting thoughts. Even if that time involved seeing Ramon’s work again. ‘That would be—wait, you’ve been having Teresa spy on me?’ Her voice rose almost comically.
He gave an unapologetic shrug. ‘She’s just as invested in your welfare as I am. And I’m hoping we’ll get you out of here before that situation fully blooms.’
‘I’m not going stir—’ She stopped as the maid returned, holding something in her hand. Rising fluidly to his feet, Ramon took it from her and returned tugging a dark sea-green T-shirt over his chest. Absurdly, even though her senses screamed at the torture of being subjected to the breathtaking masterpiece of his body, she mourned its disappearance once he covered himself up. It was probably why she was still staring at him as he returned, sat down and drained his coffee.
Setting his mug on the tray, he cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Are you happy now, belleza?’ he drawled.
Tuning off her observation of the amazing things the colour did to his eyes, she finished her own decaf coffee. ‘It’s a good start,’ she declared briskly.
Her senses were too jumpy to ascertain whether she caught a trace of laughter before he inclined his head. ‘The first exhibition is this Friday. My assistant will put together an itinerary and put the medical team on standby.’
Her heart performed a sickening lurch. ‘Do we need to take them with us?’ The twice weekly visits by the team of doctors had been bearable before but were beginning to wear on her nerves.
Grim resolve crawled over his features, his body tensing in preparation for a fight. ‘Yes. It’s non-negotiable, Suki.’
She rose from the sofa, her agitated steps taking her back to the balcony. Below her lay the beautifully manicured gardens, carefully and attentively tended by Mario. Beyond the boundaries of the villa, the captivating port city of Cienfuegos, which had been awarded World Heritage Site status, went on as normal, unknowing that she was falling in love with its rich culture, thriving art and vintage cars, falling in love with one of its most dedicated citizens.
When she felt Ramon’s approach, she turned, met the penetrating eyes that seemed to see into her soul. ‘Even if their presence taunts me with the possibility that something could go wrong at any moment?’ she blurted.
A tiny flash of shock sparked his eyes at her naked admission. Then he frowned. ‘I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.’
