have been thinking of him a great deal,’ he said coolly. ‘And always with you, naked and more than willing in his arms, querida. A disturbing vision, believe me.’
Her lips parted, then closed again helplessly. Nicola couldn’t think of a single word to say, but she knew she had to say something, for Teresita’s sake. Although there was no way Teresita would have ever got into this situation, she realised despairingly. She couldn’t really believe that she herself had done such a thing.
She said haughtily, ‘Please do not speak to me again, Don Ramón.’
It was weak, but it was the best she could manage. She turned her back on him resolutely and stared out of the window, totally unseeing, praying that the blush which seemed to be eating her alive would soon subside.
She couldn’t think what was wrong with her. She wasn’t completely unsophisticated. He’d made a verbal pass, that was all. It wasn’t the end of the world. It had happened to her before, and she’d demolished the perpetrator without a second thought. She was Nicola Tarrant, the Snow Queen, who could cut a too ardent male down with a scornful look. She had never fluttered or flustered in her life, and especially not over the past year. And it wasn’t enough to tell herself that her outrage was assumed, part of the role she was playing. She was shaken to the core, and she knew it.
When the car finally stopped, she almost stumbled out of it, barely aware that they were at yet another motel, but smaller this time and far less luxurious. She knew that Lopez was watching her curiously, and tried desperately to pull herself together and act normally.
Ramón came to her side. ‘Will you have dinner with me?’ His voice sounded constrained.
She avoided his gaze. ‘No—I have a headache. I’ll ask for some food to be sent to my room.’
‘As you please.’ He made no attempt to detain her, and she fled. Safe in her room, she made no attempt to order any food, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to swallow as much as a morsel. She undressed and showered and lay down on top of the bed, staring into the gathering darkness, her whirling thoughts refusing to cohere into any recognisable pattern.
There was one rock to hang on to in her sea of confusion—that tomorrow they would be in Monterrey, and this whole stupid, dangerous masquerade would be over. She should never have embarked on it in the first place, she knew, and she could only pray that she would emerge from it relatively unscathed.
Just let me get through tomorrow, she thought, and then it will be all right. I’ll be able to take up the rest of my life, and forget this madness. I’ll be free.
She kept repeating the word ‘free’ as if it was a soothing mantra, and eventually it had the effect she wanted and the darkness of night and the shadows of sleep settled on her almost simultaneously.
IT was a maid knocking on the door which woke her eventually. She sat up, pushing her hair back from her face, to find to her horror that it was broad daylight.
‘Señorita, your car is waiting,’ she was reminded, and heard the woman move away.
She glanced at her watch and groaned. She had overslept badly. She dressed rapidly, and almost crammed the loathsome wig on to her hair. She smothered a curse as she adjusted it. She had wanted to meet Ramón in the clear light of day, looking well-groomed and in control of the situation, and instead she was going to appear late, harassed and looking like something the cat had dragged in.
She grabbed her bag and left precipitately, aware that a porter was waiting in the corridor to fetch her cases.
As she emerged from the reception area into the sunshine, she made herself slow down and take deep, steadying breaths, as she saw the waiting car. Lopez was standing beside it, looking anxiously towards the entrance, but when he saw her he smiled in relief and opened the back door.
Nicola, steeling herself, climbed in. But the other seat was unoccupied. She twisted round, looking out of the rear window, but she could only see Lopez supervising the bestowal of her luggage in the boot. When he took his place in the driving seat, she leaned forward.
‘Where is Don Ramón?’
He turned. ‘I am to give you this, señorita.’ He handed her an envelope, then closed the glass partition between them.
Nicola opened the envelope and extracted the single sheet it contained.
‘I regret that urgent business commitments take me from your side,’ the writing, marching arrogantly across the page, informed her. ‘I wish you a safe journey, and a pleasant reunion with your novio.’ It was signed with an unintelligible squiggle.
Nicola read it several times, relief warring with an odd disappointment. So she would never see him again. On the other hand, it meant she only had Lopez to shake off when they reached Monterrey, and that had to be welcome news.
She read the terse words once again, then folded the note and stowed it in her bag, biting her lip.
Later, making sure that Lopez’ whole attention was concentrated on the road ahead, she reached into her bag and drew out the itinerary for her trip. There was an airport at Monterrey, and she would have to find out whether there were direct flights from there to Merida. There had been no time to finalise every detail before she left Mexico City. Teresita had seen to it that she had enough money for any eventuality, firmly cutting across her protests.
‘You are doing this for my sake, Nicky. It must cost you nothing,’ she had said.
In retrospect her words seemed ironic to Nicola now, but she dismissed that trend of thought from her mind, and began reading the brochures for her trip, trying to recapture her earlier excitement at the prospect. But it wasn’t easy. The names, the jungle temples no longer seemed to work the same potent magic with her as they had done. Nicola sighed and replaced them in her bag, arranging the crush-proof blue sundress she was going to change into on top of the papers.
She yawned, feeling earlier tensions beginning to seep away. Her little adventure was almost over, and she could begin to relax. Her sleep last night had been fitful, which probably explained her failure to wake this morning. She put her feet up on the seat, and relaxed. Next stop Monterrey, she thought.
It was the car slowing which woke her at last. She struggled to sit upright, putting an apprehensive hand up to touch the wig. She was stiff, and her mouth was dry, as if she had slept for several hours, but surely it couldn’t be true.
She expected to see suburbs at least, and signs of an industrial complex, but there wasn’t the least indication they were approaching a city. On the contrary, it seemed as if they were in the middle of nowhere. There were vestiges of habitation—a few shacks, and a tin-roofed cantina. And the road had altered too. They were no longer on a broad public highway but on a single track dirt road.
There were petrol pumps beside the cantina and this was clearly why Lopez was stopping. But where were they?
Lopez came to her door and opened it. ‘Do you wish for coffee, señorita? I did not wake you for a meal because I thought you would be glad to reach your destination at last.’
‘I would be glad of coffee.’ She got out of the car.
