Consequences of a Hot Havana Night

They reached for one another at the same time.

* * *

Later, he re-tied the strings of her bikini and she smoothed his hair into some sort of order.

‘It’s the least I can do after ravishing you.’ She smiled, wanting to tease him, liking the way one side of his mouth curved higher than the other when he smiled back at her.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly as she leaned back and admired her efforts. Lowering his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her hand. ‘How do you feel about barbacoas? It’s just that I got a call this morning from Pablo. He’s a neighbour, and he and his wife Julia are some of my parents’ oldest friends. They’ve invited us over to his estate for lunch.’

‘Really?’

He lifted her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. ‘I’m guessing my mother must have rung Julia and told her about us, but if you don’t want to go it’s not a problem.’

‘Of course I want to go.’ Glancing down at her bikini, she frowned. ‘Will it be really formal? Because I don’t have anything smart with me.’

He shook his head. ‘No, not at all. It’ll be fun—just food and dancing and dominos. Pretty much your average Cuban Saturday family gathering. They’ll be loads of niños running around, the teenagers will all be eyeing one another up, and as soon as we walk through the door you and I will get cornered by the abuelas.’

He grimaced.

‘You’ve heard of the Spanish Inquisition? Well, the Cuban abuelas have their own version. They’ll be grilling me all afternoon and then serving me up with the mojo instead of the usual hog roast.’

She burst out laughing. ‘I thought you said it was going to be fun?’

He grinned. ‘I’m joking. I will probably have to answer a few questions—’ his eyes gleamed ‘—but they’ll spend most of the afternoon trying to feed you up.’

* * *

Two hours later Kitty was standing downstairs, waiting for César to join her. He’d had some clothes sent over for her when they’d decided to stay on the plantation, and she’d chosen a long apple-green dress covered in tiny leaves that Lizzie had bought her for her birthday last year. It was loose enough to wear in the heat, but it felt less casual than wearing a skirt and blouse.

In fact, maybe she could send Lizzie a photo of herself wearing it. She held her phone at arm’s length, trying to fit herself into the frame and stay in focus, but it was harder than it looked.

‘Do you want me to help?’

She turned. César was strolling towards her, a key fob dangling from his fingers. She stared at him blankly.

He frowned. ‘I thought I’d drive—unless that’s a problem?’

Her heart thumped inside her chest. She shook her head. It wasn’t the thought of him driving that had caused her fingers to freeze around her phone. César was wearing pale green linen trousers and a cream shirt, rolled up to the elbows. He looked both cool and mouthwateringly sexy.

‘You’re not wearing a suit,’ she said unnecessarily.

He glanced down. ‘No, I thought maybe I wouldn’t today.’

She swallowed, her eyes snagging on the golden skin and corded muscles of his arms as he took a step towards her, his hand reaching for hers, his green gaze moving slowly from her eyes down to her toes.

‘You look beautiful.’

He pulled her towards him, twirling her expertly into the warm solidity of his body, curving his arm around her waist so that the soft green of his trousers seemed to melt into the leaves of her dress.

‘We match,’ he said softly.

His green eyes were intent on her face and she realised that they were both smiling. She felt that sudden tightening in her chest, except that it wasn’t exactly a feeling of tightness but more as though a balloon of happiness was swelling beneath her ribs, so that she could almost feel herself lifting up off the ground.

And why shouldn’t she feel happy? For such a long time it had felt as if she was just going through the mo

tions. It hadn’t even been grief—just a sense that life was passing her by while she was treading water and trying to stay afloat.

But now she had a job she loved in a country that was starting to feel like a second home. She was having a baby, and in César she had a beautiful, tireless lover. That was enough.