Betrayed(21)

Great swathes of white foam spewed behind them. This is what he’d come for, the excitement of commanding the open water. The yacht contained so much power, so much class that he felt like yelling into the wind. He would lose himself in the thrill of this and forget Kat.

He looked through the curved glass enclosure to Kat holding tight onto the rail. For about ten minutes he kept the yacht on a straight line out to sea, until the shoreline dropped away then he killed the motors, the bow dipped, they slowed, and became swathed in silence.

He leaned out and shouted enthusiastically, “Isn’t this great!” Her scathing look meant she probably didn’t agree. He came out after a few moments, released the ropes, and operated the electric sail system. A great sheet of canvas unfurled above them. The contraption stirred for a few moments, then like an immense wakening giant, the sail billowed, filled then tugged them forward.

Rafael lashed the rope around a stainless brace. They were borne along the breeze, cutting gracefully through waves. He went to her side and raised an eyebrow in question. She tilted her head to one side in concurrence, the only sound, the hiss of water against the hull.

He gave a grin of pure joy. “Are you okay now?” She nodded and he took her hand and led her into the wheelhouse, and placed a hand over the wheel. “Here. Hold on to this, and if you think we’re going the wrong way give it a spin.”

“What do you mean? I don’t know what to do. How do I know if we’re going the wrong way?”

“Keep the wind in the sail. You’ll see.”

He removed some croissants from a picnic basket, put a couple in a napkin and handed them her, uncorked a bottle of wine and poured both of them a glass. “We’ll call this a late breakfast. I think we deserve one.”

“Breakfast?” She gave a laugh. “Then where’s my toast?”

“Hold the croissant in the sun long enough and it’ll toast.”

“What shall we drink to?”

“Whatever you like... Life?” He lifted the glass. “Here’s to life.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had wine for breakfast before. Croissants yes, wine, no.”

“Let’s drink to that. Wine for breakfast, and may there be many more of them.” Rafael went to adjust the boom, wiped his hands, and took the wheel from her. Now they were under way. He wanted to see how responsive the yacht was. He spun the enormous wheel; tacked back and forth along the wind, the sail constantly trimmed by remote electric drives.

The manoeuvres brought them closer to the shoreline. Goats grazed on the outskirts of a pine thicket, unaware of their presence as they glided past.

He filled the glasses again and said, “I suppose we ought to have more respect for good wine than this. Papá would call this a sacrilege. He says that good wine is like a good woman. It mellows with age, but needs handling with care, otherwise it becomes sour. He always classifies woman with wine.”

Kat gave a laugh. “You think I need handling with care, I suppose?”

“Papa’s words not mine.”

“So what’s your opinion of me? Into which category of wine do I fall?”

He considered her. “Well you’re not champagne. You aren’t the bubbly type. You’re smooth, fine-bodied, the kind that needs to be savoured carefully to appreciate the quality, the best Chablis perhaps? The merit of the finest wine is found in its subtlety.”

She laughed. “You think I’m subtle? I’ve never been called subtle.”

“It’s only when you’ve savoured outstanding wines, that true value becomes apparent.”

“You’ve tasted lots I suppose?”

He ignored the dig. “Every tasting elicits greater eminence. When that happens, I generally find I want to go on until the bottle is finished.”

Kat smiled with amusement. “And you’re comparing me to Chablis?”

“Only the best vintage. That’s what you’re like.”

Kat smiled again, and turned to watch the shore. A small boy stood at the water’s edge gazing at them and she waved. He waved back then ran out of sight. She said, “Thank you for bringing me. I didn’t think it’d be like this. I didn’t like it at first, but I’m happy now.” She slipped her arm through his and leaned her head comfortably on his shoulder.

“I’m glad. I must admit I didn’t fancy doing it alone, this is an experience you need to share.”

He looked fondly down at her. She gazed at him peculiarly, which stirred his groin. He linked his fingers through hers, holding her at a cautious distance. “Kat, you know I want you like hell. Please don’t play games. Don’t look at me like that.”

The yacht lurched and Rafael broke away and went to the controls.

She watched what he was doing. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem. It’s the currents and wind fighting.”

It swayed again. She clutched him for support.

That was a problem. He glanced her way. He couldn’t risk making an idiot of himself again. She’d made it plain there was nowhere his infatuation could go.

Rafael swung the yacht into the current to meet it head-on to reduce its effect, operated the auto mechanism, and took up the canvas. He stooped to the basket, poured more wine into the glasses, and held one out to her. She took a glass from him and swirled it before taking a sip.

He said, “You’re trying to commit me to memory I take it?”

“Pardon?” She looked slightly misty.

He laughed. “You were staring.”

“I’m sorry! I was thinking.”

“Something nice, I hope.”

“Maybe!”

She came closer. His body involuntarily reacted, but he was helpless; tried to think of other things, hoped she didn’t notice his erection.

The yacht swayed yet again pushing them together. Rafael broke away almost immediately as their bodies touched. “I’ll stow the sail,” he said gruffly. “It’s becoming windy. We’ll run back on engines. I think I’ll drop anchor for a while, and we can take in lunch.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’m sure there’ll be a restaurant close by. There’s a mooring over there, so there’s bound to be something.”

Kat said, “Or I can knock a meal up in the galley?”

“Mm… I think I’d like that. I’ll stow things away, then I’ll be with you.” He moved to the stern to attend to the canvas. She leaned over the rails and watched water slapping the hull. After he’d finished they stood together. He said, “Okay, that’s all seen to.”

Kat stared at her fingers. “Rafael, I don’t regret for one moment what happened between us. I don’t know how to cope, that’s all. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Does it need coping with?”

She nodded silently.

He looked out. In the distance, a group of people gathered around a barbecue on the beach. They were too far to see clearly, but their voices carried on the wind. A knot of villas overlooked the sea from a hilltop, and Rafael idly wondered if they were local or on vacation. He said carefully, “So you’re not pushing me out of your life?”

“I’m not rejecting you, Rafael. I just don’t know what to do. Things seem constantly out of control. I can’t handle not being in control.”

Rafael understood about control. As far as Kat was concerned, he’d long since lost it. Wanting to be with her wasn’t logical. He knew he was stupid, but he was obsessed.

She lifted her chin, her wrap slightly open revealing soft skin beneath. “I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to tell you I don’t want you in my life, Kat,” he said awkwardly. “I do. More than I ought. I know you don’t want me to say so but I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I won’t do anything you don’t want though. Don’t worry.”

She nodded.

Rafael couldn’t deny his lust. It spilled urgently inside him, but the power she had over him was extraordinary. He wouldn’t break his word.

A light wind tousled her hair and he pulled strands from her face, choked with desire, needing to hold her, to protect her. He said, “You really are beautiful.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say those things, Rafael.” Kat laid her cheek against his chest. “I don’t want you saying things you don’t mean.”

“When you were a youngster,” he said carefully. “Your mother… There was a problem?”

Katrina didn’t look up.

He said, “These things you leave unspoken. If you share them you might come to terms.”

She fell silent for a while then said, “I overheard Dad telling some of his friends about her, one night.”

“And?”