of sunshine coming in, and if possible, a view of...
“The view of the sea is better from out here,” he said, finishing her thought for her and gesturing an invitation to accompany him onto the terrace.
Joanna walked forward like an automaton, drawn almost against her will to see all there was to see, despite the inner torment it aroused. From the railing between the arches, there was a magnificent view of the sea and a long wide sweep of beach, as well. On a sunny day it would be glorious. Even now, with the sky overcast and threatening rain, it was still perfect to Joanna, precisely what she had dreamed of having.
“Geraniums,” Rory said, pointing to the ceramic pots near the railing. “Since it’s midwinter they’re not in flower right now, but that one over there is red, that one a sort of apricot, that one...”
He listed off the geraniums she had envisioned as adding to the Mediterranean look she’d favoured. How he had memorised them she did not know, but he had forgotten nothing. Then, as though he could command nature itself to do his bidding, the clouds parted and the sun beamed a brief benevolence on both of them. It was always like that with Rory, Joanna thought. The most surprising, unexpected and improbable things happened.
Again he gave her that heart-kicking smile, sharing a moment made specially for them, or so it seemed. Joanna was somehow incapable of resisting when he took her hand, enfolding it warmly in his. He drew her along the terrace, beyond the living room, past a cane and glass table setting that was positioned outside a curtained room, to the end of the last archway, where there was a rich profusion of potted palms and hanging baskets of ferns.
Then Rory showed her it wasn’t the last archway at all. There was another that was glassed in on three sides, and inside this part of the terrace was an even more mind-wrenching sight. The whole space was taken up by a huge spa bath, luxuriously set in richly veined green onyx with gold taps and crystal jars of bath oils around the wide ledges.
“To make you feel relaxed and pampered,” Rory murmured.
After we make love. That’s what she had said, imagining the jets of the spa shooting tingly bubbles over their sensitised flesh while they moved their bodies sensuously together in the scented flow of the bath.
“You can lie back and be soothed by the sight of tropical greenery, or watch the sea,” Rory continued softly. “At night you can see the stars. There are skylights specially built above the bath so you can look up and see the universe revolve if you want to stay there long enough.”
That was what he had added when she had described what would be heavenly to her. She remembered laughing in delight but never dreaming it could really be possible for them. A delicious fantasy, totally unrealistic, yet Rory had made it come true.
Tears pricked her eyes as an ungovernable well of emotion surged from her heart. It wasn’t fair, her mind cried. How could Rory do this when everything was over between them? As though in tune with the ache gathering inside her, there was a roll of thunder and the sunshine blinked out. Heavy drops of rain began to fall.
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