The Forbidden Touch of Sanguardo (10 page)

She had longed, then, to be drawn upwards into their distant reaches—to be taken up off the earth, far, far away from everything that had been happening to her, everything that had surrounded her there below, dragging her into the sordid mire of the world that she’d been so helplessly, hopelessly trapped in.

Yet now, as she tilted her head upwards and gazed at the jewelled sky, it was not the scintillation of the distant stars that was dominant in her senses but the warm, balmy air, the fragrant scent of the blooms upon the trees wafting towards her, the sound of the sea, the wash of the warm, breaking waves, their airy foam dispersed into the tropical night.

The profusion seemed to play upon her skin, lulling her, slowing her breathing. She felt her gaze slip from the distant stars, rest instead on the outline of palm trees, the pale shimmer of flowers in the gardens beyond her room. The warmth of the night enveloped her, the soft breeze whispering over her skin. And in her head the soft whispering of words was taking shape.

You don’t need to gaze up at the stars to find beauty and wonder, or to seek refuge in the heavens. You no longer need to long to escape the earth. This earth—here, now—this scented garden, this dark foliage, these velvet flowers it bears, all lapped by the moon-silvered sea—is good. It has blessings of its own.

And beyond the gardens, in his cabana close to the sea’s edge, across the smooth-cropped turf, was Rafael.

She felt her heart give a little lift. Rafael! A man who waited for her—waited for her to bestow upon him what she knew—
knew!
—was in her to bestow! Rafael! A man to whom she could give what she so longed to give. For he would cherish it—cherish her—respect her.

Can I be free to do so? Finally free? Free to leave the past behind?

She felt emotion swell within her.

‘We can make ourselves anew.’
Into her head came Rafael’s voice, talking about how even the solid earth beneath their feet was constantly remaking itself. New land, new continents...constantly forming, constantly remaking themselves.

Her gaze went out across the garden, glimmering in midnight beauty.

These very islands are proof of that continual change! Each one has been formed from the liquid mantle deep beneath the ocean floor, each one formed and shaped and made anew, moving on, ever westwards, each island newborn—leaving its past behind them...

Could she do likewise? If the very earth could change and leave its past behind could she not do so, too? Could she, too, be new-made like these emerald Hawaiian jewels? Finally leaving her past behind her?

Surely I can do so!

And surely that was the answer that she sought—she could leave her past behind and remake herself for the present that was offering itself to her. Give herself to the man who, alone of every man she had ever encountered, she longed to give herself to!

Slowly she returned to bed, shivering slightly in the air-conditioned cool as she shut the glass doors, slipped back under the coverlet.

And now, finally, she slept. Content, at last, with the answer she had found. The answer she had longed for so much...

CHAPTER NINE

‘T
HERE
! T
HERE
THEY
ARE
!’
Rafael’s voice rose over the rush of the wind in the huge sail of the catamaran as they clung to the tarpaulin with their hands and bare feet.

‘I can’t see!’ cried Celeste. Then, with a gasp of excitement, she saw them.

A school of bottlenose dolphins, rising and plunging to starboard, leaping one after another, effortlessly keeping abreast of the wind-powered sail craft.

‘Oh, they’re wonderful!’ she exclaimed joyously.

The helmsman grinned and shouted something to Rafael she could not catch, the wind whipping at his words.

‘They’ll surf our bow wave,’ Rafael relayed.

She craned her neck, and sure enough she could see half a dozen dolphins rising and falling through the creaming bow wave and then the wake of the catamaran. Then, suddenly, she gave another cry.

‘Rafael! Look—
look,
they’re beneath us!’

She gazed down, enraptured, into the space between the twin hulls directly below the tarpaulin, as the dolphins swam beneath them.

‘The currents bring the fish in,’ the Hawaiian helmsman explained. ‘Our wake stirs them up, too, and then the dolphins make the most of them. If you come to this bay in the morning you might be able to swim with them. But beware—they are wild creatures still.’

Rafael shook his head. ‘This bay is theirs, not ours. We invade their world far too much.’

They were content with this exhilarating catamaran ride—even though it seemed to Celeste she was clinging to the tarpaulin for dear life.

When the boat tacked she slewed sideways, but Rafael was there, holding her firmly. Safely. Then they came about and he released her. But she could feel the imprint of his grip. Feel, too, the echo of the sense of security it had afforded her.

I can be safe with him—safe in this wonderful, blissful present. Safe from the past.

The words flitted through her mind.

All that morning she had felt different. As different as the stars that shone down on this azure water world of the mighty Pacific, in which the precious islands of the sea glittered like scattered emeralds, born from the ocean floor. How deep the ocean was, she thought, how drowning deep—
but here, with Rafael, I am safe.

Safe in this bright new world, with Rafael at her side, the past seemed very far away.

When they got back to the little harbour and clambered ashore her legs felt like jelly. Rafael saw her wobble and caught her, his arm going around her waist. And once again Celeste felt his anchoring, felt his strength supporting her. She smiled up at him, her hair wind-tousled, fronding wildly out of the plait she’d woven it into to try and keep it tidy.

‘OK now?’ he said, and she nodded.

He let her go, turning to thank the helmsman. Then they climbed aboard the electric buggy to drive back up to the hotel.

‘A good experience?’ Rafael asked.

Celeste grinned, brushing back her unruly hair. ‘Wonderful! I’ll remember it all my life!’

He gazed, enthralled. Never yet had he seen her with so carefree an expression. He could not take his eyes from her. Only a smothered ‘Rafael!’ from her made him realise he was steering the buggy at the verge. He straightened it and concentrated on driving.

Back at the hotel, they headed for the pool. Diving into its cool depths was refreshing after the heat of the sun and the salty air at sea, and as Celeste surfaced it was to find Rafael beside her. His sable hair was slicked back off his face; strong, sinewed shoulders broke the surface. Effortlessly, he levered himself out of the pool in a single movement, then held down a hand to Celeste. She took it, feeling his strong fingers close around hers, and with similar effortless ease he lifted her clear. Then, refreshed, they settled back on their loungers.

A server cruised by and Celeste gratefully ordered iced water and coffee.

‘No tea?’ Rafael queried, echoing her order.

She gave a laugh and made a face. ‘This is the USA—they don’t do tea that’s drinkable by the English! I stick to coffee here!’

‘Have you travelled much in the States?’ he asked.

She dried her face and started to apply more sunblock after her swim.

‘Some,’ she said. ‘I’ve done a shoot at the Grand Canyon, which was breathtaking. And one in New Orleans—which is an amazing place. And then New England in the fall—also breathtaking. Plus, of course, I go to New York every year for the fashion shows.’

He nodded. ‘I have offices there, but I spend less time there now. I prefer to visit the West Coast when I can. It’s quicker to get back to Maragua from there.’ He glanced at her again. ‘Do you know California?’

Celeste shook her head. ‘We stopped over in SF on our way out here, but only at the airport.’

‘And what about Hawaii? Have you been here before?’

She gave another quick shake of her head. ‘No, this is the first time. And it’s as fabulous as its reputation says it is!’

Rafael smiled. ‘And does it tempt you to go further across the Pacific? Down to Australia, perhaps?’

It was a casually voiced question, asked in the same friendly conversational tone as before, but as he asked her it was as if a shutter came down over her face. Just as he’d seen happen before, in London, when he’d asked her about how she’d become interested in astronomy.

‘No,’ he heard her say. The single word was negating and final.

He frowned. What had made her close down like that? ‘You’d never care to go there?’ he probed carefully.

She looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. ‘Not really,’ she answered, making her voice as indifferent as she could. Hurriedly she sought to change the subject. ‘Did you manage to get a place on the stargazing trip?’ she asked.

He had—he’d made it a priority, knowing how much Celeste was looking forward to it.

* * *

The expedition did not disappoint.

With no moon, and no light pollution, the night sky was blazing with stars.

‘OK, can anyone tell me what any of these constellations are?’ The young astronomer, a postgrad from the University of Hawaii earning some extra money, waved a hand at the sky above them.

Immediately Celeste pointed north. ‘The Great Bear and the two pointer stars pointing to Polaris, the Pole Star. Then over there...’ She wheeled her arm around and proceeded to identify several more constellations.

‘Great!’ enthused their guide. ‘Want to come and give me a hand?’ he teased.

She laughed, shaking her head. ‘Sorry!’ she said.

‘No, don’t be! It’s great that you’re enthusiastic,’ he said, and then helped others in the group see what she had indicated.

Rafael spoke over Celeste’s shoulder. ‘You know the southern hemisphere constellations, too. Does that mean you’ve already been in that part of the world?’

But she didn’t answer him, and appeared not to have heard him. He found himself frowning again.

She is sensitive about it—why?

Did she have bad memories? Was that it? Had whatever it was that had happened to her to make her withdraw from men, from love and romance, to make her so protective of naive young women like Louise, occurred somewhere like Australia? Was that why she was so evasive?

He felt the questions running through his head as he turned his attention back to the stargazing. Celeste, he could see, was clearly rapt, and he was glad. He wanted her to enjoy things—wanted her to enjoy things with him...

He enjoyed seeing with her the secrets of the heavens revealed to them through the powerful lenses of the telescopes—the stellar nurseries, where stars were born; the twin beacons of a binary system, with their different visual spectra; and, best of all, the galaxies revealed not as the blurry points they looked like from earth, but as populous as the Milky Way, teeming with a billion stars.

‘To think that their light reaches us from so very, very far away!’ she murmured wonderingly to Rafael as he stood back to let another guest take his place at the telescope.

‘And from so very long ago,’ he answered. ‘Those stars have burnt out millennia ago, yet their light still reaches out to us. Their past becomes our present—’

She did not answer him. A shiver seemed to go through her. Rafael sensed it.

‘Cold?’ he asked. They were high up, on a terraced viewing platform cut into the side of the extinct volcanic peak that had formed the island long ago, and here the night air was cold, not balmy. They had been handed thick jackets to wear, to keep them warm as they stood under the stars.

Celeste did not answer him. It had not been the cold that had made her shiver. It had been the words he’d said.

‘Their past becomes our present—’

They echoed again in her head, changing as they did.

My past became my present...trapping me in my past...

She shook her head. No, she would no longer let the past reach out to her. She would no longer let it isolate her, keep her away from what she knew, with every passing day, she wanted so much!

Rafael—Rafael to hold and be embraced by! Rafael to take her from the past, to set her free into a present that she wanted to embrace wholly and fully! Rafael to cradle her in his strong arms, kiss her with his warm lips...desire her with his body...

And she would let it happen! She would make herself anew—just like the continents and the islands did—leaving their past far, far behind.

She felt Rafael’s warm, strong arm come around her shoulder, drawing her close to him against the chill of the starlit night. Her head tilted slightly, resting on his shoulder. His arm tightened around her. She pulled her gaze away from the distant stars and looked up into Rafael’s eyes. He was looking down at her. His gaze was warm, and very close. And it glowed with a light that was only in the present, only in the time that was
now.

By the time they got back to the hotel it was gone midnight. Celeste had drowsed as the SUV snaked its way slowly down the unmade roadway to the metalled coastal road that led back to the resort, and as they disembarked she was yawning.

‘Off you go to bed,’ Rafael said.

She smiled at him sleepily and headed off across the atrium to her wing of the hotel. Rafael watched her go until she was out of sight, then set off towards his cabana-villa in the other direction. As he walked through the night-scented gardens, with the stars burning above, his mood was strange.

He glanced upwards. He desired her so much, the woman whose name was as celestial as the pale, burning stars above. But there was more than desire in what he felt—what he sought.

What is happening to me?

The question formed in his head, hanging there like a solitary star in his consciousness. Then he shook it aside and continued on his way.

But it hovered still, and in the morning he woke to its presence. It was with him as he set off on his daily run through the hotel grounds, and sprang stronger as he joined Celeste for breakfast. As it did every time, her beauty hit him. Today she was casually but beautifully dressed, as she always was, in a loosely shaped Grecian-style tunic sundress, her hair simply caught back at the nape of her head with a scarf. She had no make-up on, and her skin, despite her assiduous application of sunblock, had developed the glow of pale honey.

‘Hi,’ she greeted him. Her voice was warm. Her eyes warmer.

He felt emotion kick in him as he took his place. Desire, yes, and gladness that she was smiling at him—but there was more as well.

What is happening to me?
The question hung again in his consciousness.

‘Wasn’t last night wonderful?’ she was saying.

‘Stars in your eyes?’ He laughed.

‘Oh, yes,’ she answered. She speared another slice of the pineapple that was her breakfast staple.

‘Mmm...’ she murmured appreciatively as the incredible rich, ripe sweetness of its juice filled her senses. ‘This is the best yet! Every morning I think this is the best Maui Gold pineapple in the entire universe—and then the next morning there’s an even better one!’

He laughed, reaching forward with his unfurled linen napkin. There was a tiny drop of pineapple juice on her chin and he dabbed it away. An intimate gesture...

Their eyes met, mingled. Then she pulled hers away.

‘What shall we do today?’ she asked. There was the slightest hint of heightened colour in her cheeks.

‘Your choice,’ Rafael said expansively, pouring strong black coffee into his cup.

‘After last night I’m feeling lazy,’ she admitted.

‘Then we’ll have a lazy day. In fact, why don’t we go the whole hog and indulge in a therapeutic massage? Every morning I run past the open-air massage beds by the edge of the sea and think I should book myself in!’

Celeste’s eyes lit. ‘Oh, yes—definitely! What a brilliant idea!’

His lashes dipped over his eyes. ‘I’m full of good ideas, Celeste,’ he said.

She felt heat flush through her and knew that he could see it, too. Knew, too, the truth of what he’d said. Resolve filled her. She would take everything that he was offering her, gladly and fully. No more questioning or torment or doubt or fear.

Rafael had reached out to her as no other man had done, had been able to. She did not know why, knew only that with him the past that chained her seemed so far away...so long ago. As far away as those distant stars that had burnt out long aeons ago.

Whose light no longer reached her.

* * *

The oceanside massage proved a wonderful idea, Celeste swiftly discovered. To lie in the sheltering shade of the open-sided cabana as the slow, relaxing, rhythmic kneading of a skilled masseuse worked its magic on her back and shoulders was blissful.

Afterwards they repaired to the oceanside bistro for lunch, taking a table dappled with the shade of fronded palm trees towering overhead. Beyond the ocean lapped the shore in gentle waves.

‘Not much to surf on here,’ Rafael observed.

‘You have to go to the North Shore of the islands, in winter, to get the big swells coming down from the Arctic,’ Celeste replied. ‘That’s where all the best breaks are—like Banzai Pipeline, Jaws and Tunnels.’