On another night, perhaps if she’d still been out with Carrie and the other girls, she might have taken a photo and sent it to Lizzie, for the ladies’ room was gloriously over the top, with gilt-edged mirrors and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. But right now she felt too on edge to enjoy the flamboyant decor.
Turning on the tap, she held her wrists under the cooling water and stared at her reflection in the mirror. César was right. Her face did look pale, and her eyes were wide and feverish.
Except she didn’t feel ill. Just not herself.
You’re just tired, she told her reflection. You’ve been working too hard, and it was a shock meeting him like this tonight.
Her cheeks felt suddenly warm again. And, of course, she’d kissed him. Again.
What was happening to her?
She’d hoped that Cuba would bring a change to her life, but when she was with César she just didn’t recognise herself. Gone was the sensible, shy, small-town girl and in her place was a wild, passionate woman who acted without thinking.
But it had to stop here.
It didn’t matter that he looked like an angel, or that his touch turned her inside out with ecstasy. In fact, that was a reason not to give in to her desire. She didn’t want to want this dazzling, uncompromising man who threatened to bring passion and emotion into her world. For emotions were as dangerous and random as life itself, twisting and transforming, so that love turned to loss and passion to pain in a heartbeat.
And she was an adult. She could feel attracted to him and not act on it.
Breathing out slowly, she opened her handbag and found her compact. She tilted her face upwards and dusted some blusher across her cheeks. That was better. Now it just needed some lipstick. Where was it?
Frowning, she felt inside her bag, and then tipped the contents out onto the counter.
There it was.
Picking up the tube, she swiped it carefully across her lips, blotted them with a tissue and then swiped again. That would have to do.
She dropped the lipstick back into her bag and began to pick up the other items, and as she did so her hand froze. Gazing down at the box of tampons, she felt her stomach flip over, and then a rush of panic, cold and dark and swift-moving like floodwater, swept over her skin.
Gripping the side of the counter, she steadied her legs.
She couldn’t be.
Probably she had her dates wrong.
With an effort, she worked her way back through the calendar. But there was no doubt. She was at least five weeks late.
* * *
Tilting his wrist, César glanced down at his watch and frowned. He didn’t usually stand around waiting for women to come out of cloakrooms, and Kitty seemed to be taking an unusually long time, but he felt responsible for her.
The thought jarred. Feeling responsible, feeling anything aside from desire was not something he’d anticipated, but he knew that he had no choice. Right now she was his responsibility.
He wondered again why she was taking so long. Remembering her flushed cheeks, he grimaced. She was obviously embarrassed—or had he been too vehement when she’d pulled away? His chest tightened. Maybe...
But he was only human, and she had kissed him, leaning into his body so that he’d been able to feel her heart vibrating, her fingers caressing his face. And everything had faded. The lights, the music, the tension in his body—everything had turned to dust, spinning into the darkness. Everything except Kitty.
He thought back to how she’d melted into him, the heat and the hunger of her kiss and the softness of her mouth. His breath caught in his throat. She had made his head spin, made his body ache. And he’d wanted more. Only as suddenly as she’d started it she had pulled away. So, yes, he had been a little terse.
He gritted his teeth. He should never have asked her to dinner. In fact he should never have come back to Cuba. If he’d just kept to his schedule he would be in the Bahamas, asleep, serene and oblivious.
Instead his body felt as if it was about to fly apart.
Suddenly he saw her, and his heart started to pound. There was colour on her cheeks, still, but she didn’t look embarrassed—more stunned.
‘Is everything okay?’
She nodded stiffly. ‘Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his. ‘I’m a little out of practice when it comes to going out on the town.’