Should she really be here? Was she doing the right thing?
Last night she had been so sure. She had been so confident that a new beginning was possible. But were the feelings that she had experienced in the heat of their lovemaking and its aftermath enough to carry them through into that new beginning?
What was it that people said about the cold light of dawn?
She had woken that morning to find that Luis was already up and dressed, bending over her to place a brief kiss on her sleepy face.
‘What? Where are you going?’
‘To get my things; check out of the hotel. Then I’ll be back.’
‘So you are coming back?’ Her heart jolted in a mixture of uncertainty and delight.
‘Do you doubt it? Oh, yes, querida. I’m coming back. I think last night rather proved a point.’
‘What point?’ She couldn’t get her sleep-clouded mind to focus and frowned in confusion.
“‘Why don’t you kiss me and we’ll see?’” he quoted, his tone laced with a dark humour. “‘If that compatibility is still there, then maybe I will agree to your terms.’”
Eyes gleaming with appreciation raked the length of her slim body from the tousled golden hair, down over the pale skin of her face and neck, still marked red in places by the demanding force of his kisses.
‘Made up your mind, then, have you, sweetheart? Because if you haven’t, then I certainly have.’
Bending suddenly, taking her totally by surprise, he pressed his lips to hers once more, and she could feel his smile against her mouth as she was unable to control her instant, passionate response.
‘I think we’d both agree that that compatibility is still there, querida. So you don’t have to say another word. I’ll take that as a yes.’
Her tongue seemed too swollen, too clumsy to answer him, but he clearly didn’t need her to say a single thing. Snatching up his jacket, he slung it over his shoulder and headed for the door.
‘I’ll give you an hour or so to pack,’ he tossed at her, not even sparing a backward glance. ‘I’ll be here to pick you up on my way to the airport.’
She had packed as she’d been commanded to do, but all the time her body had been tight with tension, never knowing quite whether to believe that Luis would come back or not. And so she had jumped like a startled cat when the sound of his hard fist hitting the scuffed and faded wood of the front door had had her hurrying to let him in before he splintered the lock.
‘Do you think you could make a little more noise?’ she’d demanded, hiding her private feelings behind a mask of annoyance. ‘There are people still asleep in the house, you know.’
‘At this time?’
His brief, impatient glance at his watch expressed irritated disapproval without a word having to be spoken.
‘Some of the guys who live here work shifts. We don’t all have the luxury of being able to come and go as we please. Some of us have to earn our livings.’
‘In Spain I would have put in a couple of hours’ work at the vineyard already.’
Luis dismissed her protest with an arrogant flick of his hand.
‘I prefer to be out and busy before the heat of the day sets in.’
‘Which is fine in Spain, but not exactly appropriate here,’ Isabelle retorted with a reluctant glance out at the rain-soaked street. ‘We don’t get a chance to take a siesta and rest for half the afternoon.’
She realised her mistake as soon as the words had left her mouth, anything else she might have been about to say disappearing in a tangle of confusion as she saw the wicked, glinting glance he shot her from behind dark lashes.
‘As I recall, we didn’t exactly use the time for resting,’ he drawled sardonically, the gleam in his eyes growing as he watched the hot colour race up her neck and into her face, until she was almost exactly the same bright pink as the cotton jumper and cardigan she wore with loose oatmeal trousers for comfort in travelling.
‘No—like every man, you only had one thing on your mind,’ she retorted tartly, too knocked off balance mentally to care that that was exactly the wrong thing to say, giving Luis an opening that he would be unable to resist.
He didn’t disappoint her.
‘Every man?’ His tone had sharpened perceptibly. ‘Am I to take it you’re talking about Rob Michaels here?’