‘Of course.’ In other words, she wanted to go home. He felt a momentary pang of regret that the evening was ending, but then pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll call my driver.’
The drive home to the estate took less than twenty minutes. Usually he liked the clear night-time roads, but tonight he felt a little conflicted, for a part of him wanted to delay the moment when he and Kitty returned to being Señor Zayas and Ms Quested.
Glancing over to where Kitty sat beside him, her eyes fixed on the window, he felt his muscles tighten. Although perhaps that moment had already happened.
Her villa was in sight now. Feeling the car slow, he leaned forward and tapped on the glass behind Rodolfo’s head. ‘You can drop me with Ms Quested. I need to stretch my legs,’ he said in Spanish. ‘So I’ll make my own way up to the house.’
As the car drove away Kitty gazed up at him warily.
It was not dark. A beautiful pearlescent moon spread a clear white light over the villa. But he’d been raised to walk women to their front doors.
‘I’ll walk you in.’
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
Inside, the villa was dark, but she switched on a table lamp and instantly a warm yellow glow spread across the room. He waited for her to say goodnight. Waited for her to smile politely and thank him for a wonderful evening. But she didn’t speak.
He stared at her tense, set face, trying to interpret her silence. And then he shut the door quietly. ‘Look, I’m sorry about what I said at the club.’
He stared past her across the living room and then instantly wished he hadn’t as he caught sight of the sofa. His body hardened painfully as an image of the pair of them, half-naked and panting, played inside his head.
With an effort, he forced his mind away from the memory and dragged his gaze back to her face. ‘I was out of order.’
‘Actually, I kissed you, so if anyone was out of order it was me.’
He thought back to the disturbed nights and restless days he’d endured since walking out of this villa. He might have left her in Cuba, but she had never left his thoughts, and had he not been her boss he would have kissed her first in the club.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said truthfully. ‘We crossed that line seven weeks ago. Left it for dust on that couch.’
‘That doesn’t make it right.’
Watching her face stiffen, he felt a rush of frustration. A planned life was a life free of complication, because there were rules and boundaries. This kind of twisting, awkward conversation was exactly why he didn’t leave his libido in charge of his actions.
Worse, in this room, with the ghost of their passionate encounter still tangible, her remoteness was setting his teeth on edge. Between leaving the dance floor and coming out of the cloakroom something had changed. But what?
He stared down at her uncertainly, reluctant to know more but even more reluctant to turn away. ‘Has something happened?’
A quick breath lifted her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. It might have. Or it might not. I’m not sure—’ She broke off mid-sentence.
Beneath his shirt, his heart started to pound. Her words made no sense, but it was her sudden retreat into silence that made the tension in his chest suddenly unbearable. For he had learned from Celia that the unsayable was always worse than anything that could be spoken out loud, no matter how inarticulately expressed.
Gazing down at her pale, set face, he felt his muscles tighten, and suddenly he knew why she couldn’t speak. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ he said coolly. ‘But if you’re that worried why don’t you call your boyfriend?’
He felt a sharp sting of anger just saying the word, but he was grateful to have found out the truth now rather than later.
She was shaking her head. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend. I told you that—’
‘I know what you told me, but that doesn’t make it true.’
‘I’m not lying to you.’ Her eyes were narrowing and a flush of colour was slipping slowly over the contours of her face. ‘I’m trying to tell you the truth.’
‘It’s a little too late for that.’
He knew his anger was disproportionate. They’d had sex only once, but it was disconcerting to discover that he still had this weakness inside, this impaired judgement.
Her mouth twisted. ‘Not really. I only realised tonight.’