Clearly that was true, for moments later they were all chatting easily about Luis’s ranch. But, despite the fact that conversation flowed smoothly for the rest of the evening, she couldn’t shift the feeling that Luis had been lying to his parents.
Worse, she was pretty sure he’d been lying to himself too.
*
When they returned to the island Sofia and Agusto excused themselves, and Cristina found herself alone with Luis.
Given what had happened the previous night, she had supposed he would follow his parents and turn in, so she was surprised when he turned to her and said, ‘I’m going to have a drink—would you care to join me?’
‘Oh.’ She gazed at him uncertainly. ‘Well, that—’
She broke off as he raised his hands placatingly.
‘I just meant coffee or tea.’
‘So no champagne cocktail, then?’ The urge to tease overwhelmed any caution she might have had about being alone with him.
His eyes gleamed, and she felt a tiny flicker of excitement as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.
‘Sadly we don’t have any dogs, and the floors look awfully hard and cold.’
‘Tea would be lovely, then.’
It was the first time she’d been in the kitchen. Although it was large, it felt surprisingly homely. ‘This is lovely.’
He glanced over at her. ‘We seem to have every flavour of tea imaginable, so—’
‘Actually, builders’ would be fine.’
‘Builders’?’ He raised an eyebrow.
She laughed. ‘It’s what English people call breakfast tea. I like it strong with lots of milk. Thank you.’
After Luis had made the tea, they sat on opposite sides of the breakfast bar. She had thought she would have to do the talking, but it was Luis who spoke first.
‘Did you enjoy the meal?’
‘Yes, it was incredible. I’ve never eaten food like that.’ Remembering the tension between him and Agusto, she hesitated. Then, ‘Do you think your mother enjoyed herself?’
There was a tiny pause. Luis stared at her. ‘Of course. It’s her favourite restaurant.’
She waited for a moment, and when he didn’t say anything else, just stared pointedly past her, she felt her cheeks start to tingle. She could just back off, talk about the food, or maybe the design of this kitchen, but she was still struggling to make sense of what had happened over dinner.
Luis was fiercely protective of his parents, and yet even though his father had as good as asked him to stay he’d refused. In fact he’d shut the entire conversation down even though she knew it had hurt him to do so. She didn’t know how she knew—she just knew that it had. And that it had hurt her to feel his pain.
She bit her lip. Her heart started to race. ‘She loves having you here.’
‘I love being here.’
There was a definite warning tone in the coolness of his voice, but for some totally illogical reason that only made her more determined to talk to him about what had happened.
‘But what about when you go back to California?’
He looked over at her, his grey eyes suddenly cool and hostile, as though she was some kind of intruder.
‘I’m not sure why you think that’s any of your business, but even if it were I don’t want to talk about it.’
The expression on his face made her skin freeze to her bones. It was as though they were back on that balcony and he was that same man who had accused her of being a cold-hearted, self-serving parasite. But wasn’t that what she always did when she was upset and scared? Lashed out at people, pushed them away…