and sleep even more elusive than it had been before she had headed down to the kitchen, Aggie wondered about those other women who had given in. He always got what he wanted. What had he wanted? And why on earth would he be attracted to a woman like her? She was pretty enough, but he could certainly get far prettier without the hassle of having any of them question him or argue with him or stubbornly refuse to back down.
Aggie was forced to conclude that there might be truth in the saying that a change was as good as a rest.
She was different, and he had assumed that he could just reach out and pluck her like fruit from a tree, so that he could sample her before tossing her aside to return to the other varieties of fruit with which he was familiar.
It was more troubling to think of her own motivations, because she was far more serious when it came to relationships. So why was she attracted to him? Was there some part of her, hitherto undiscovered, that really was all about the physical? Some hidden part of her, free of restraint, principles and good judgement, that she had never known existed?
More to the point, how on earth were they going to get along now that this disturbing ingredient had been placed in the mix? Would he be cool and distant towards her because she had turned him down?
Aggie knew that she shouldn’t really care but she found that she did. Having seen glimpses of his charm, his intelligence, his sense of humour, she couldn’t bear the thought of having to deal with his coolness.
* * *
She found that she need not have worried. At least, not as much as she had. She arrived for breakfast the following morning to find him chatting to Mrs Bixby. Although his expression was unreadable when he looked across to where she was standing a little nervously by the door, he greeted her without any rancour or hostility, drawing her into the conversation he had been having with the older woman. Something about the sights they could take in en route, which also involved convoluted anecdotes about Mrs Bixby’s various relatives who lived there. She seemed to have hordes of family members.
Luiz looked at her not looking at him, deliberately keeping her face turned away so that she could pour all her energy into focusing on Mrs Bixby.
He had managed to staunch his immediate reaction to her dismissal of him. He had left her room enraged and baffled at the unpleasant novelty of having been beaten back. The rage and bafflement had been contained, as he had known they would be, because however uncharacteristic his behaviour had been in that moment, he was still a man who was capable of extreme self-control. He would have to shrug her off with the philosophical approach of you win a few, you lose a few. And, if he had never lost any, then this was as good a time as any to discover what it felt like. With a woman who was, in the bigger picture, an insignificant and temporary visitor to his life.
Outside, the snow had abated. Aggie had called the school, vaguely explained and then apologised for her absence. She hadn’t felt all that much better when she had been told that there was nothing to rush back for because the term was nearly over.
‘You know what it’s like here,’ the principal had chuckled. ‘All play and not much work with just a week to go before the holidays. If you have family problems, then don’t feel guilty about taking some time off to sort them out.’
Aggie did feel guilty, though, because the ‘family problems’ were a sluggish mix of her own problems which she was trying to fight a way through and it felt deceitful to give the impression that they were any more widespread than that.
She looked surreptitiously at Luiz and wondered what was going through his head. His deep, sexy voice wafted around her and made her feel a little giddy, as though she was standing on a high wire, looking a long way down.
Eventually, Mrs Bixby left and Luiz asked politely in a friendly voice whether she was packed and ready to go.
‘We might as well take advantage of the break in the weather,’ he said, tossing his serviette onto his plate and pushing his chair back. ‘It’s not going to last. If you go and bring your bag down, I’ll settle up and meet you by reception.’
So this was how it was going to be, Aggie thought. She knew that she should have been pleased. Pleased that he was being normal. Pleased that there would not be an atmosphere between them. Almost as though nothing had happened at all, as though in the early hours of the morning she hadn’t bumped into him on the landing, he hadn’t strolled into her room wearing nothing but a couple of towels and he certainly hadn’t told her that he wanted her. It could all have been a dream because there was nothing in his expression or in the tone of his voice to suggest otherwise.
There was genuine warmth in Mrs Bixby’s hugs as she waved them off, and finally Aggie twisted back around in her seat and waited for something. Something to be said. Some indication that they had crossed a line. But nothing.
He asked for the address to the foster home and allowed her to programme the satnav, although her fingers fumbled and it took ages before the address was keyed in and their course plotted.
It would take roughly a few hours. Conditions were going to worsen slightly the further north they went. They had been lucky to have found such a pleasant place to stay a couple of nights but they couldn’t risk having to stop again and make do.
Luiz chatted amiably and Aggie was horrified to find that she hated it. Only now was she aware of that spark of electricity that had sizzled between them because it was gone.
When the conversation faltered, he eventually tuned in to the local radio station and they drove without speaking, which gave her plenty of time alone with her thoughts.
In fact, she was barely aware of the motorway giving way to roads, then to streets, and she was shocked when he switched off the radio, stopped the car and said,
‘We seem to be here.’
For the first time since they had started on this uncomfortable trip, Luiz was treated to a smile of such spontaneous delight and pleasure that it took his breath away. He grimly wondered whether there was relief in that smile, relief that she was to be spared more of his company. Whether she was attracted to him or not, she had made it perfectly clear that her fundamental antipathy towards him rendered any physical attraction null and void.
‘It’s been such a long time since I was here,’ she breathed fervently, hands clasped on her lap. ‘I just want to sit here for a little while and breathe it in.’
Luiz thought that anyone would be forgiven for thinking that she was a prodigal daughter, returned to her rightful palatial home. Instead, what he saw was an averagely spacious pebble-dashed house with neat gardens on either side of a gravel drive. There was an assortment of outside toys on the grass and the windows of one of the rooms downstairs appeared to have drawings tacked to them. There were trees at the back but the foliage was sparse and unexciting.
‘Same bus,’ she said fondly, drawing his attention to a battered vehicle parked at the side. ‘Betsy’s always complained about it but I think she likes its unpredictability.’
‘It’s not what I imagined.’
‘What did you imagine?’
‘It seems small to house a tribe of children and teenagers.’
‘There are only ever ten children at any one time and it’s bigger at the back. You’ll see. There’s a conservatory—a double conservatory, where Betsy and Gordon can relax in the evenings while the older ones do their homework. They were always very hot
