glanced in his direction, he had been watching her, she thought broodingly.
And that was putting it mildly. What he had actually been doing was undressing her with his eyes, and in her role as Teresita she couldn't even make a protest, because the innocent Teresita wouldn't have known for one moment what he was doing.
But I know, she thought, grinding her teeth, and longing to embed the delicate heel of her sandal in his shin.
The cabin to which she was shown was spotlessly clean and comfortable, with a tiny tiled bathroom opening off the bedroom. She turned to close the door and found Ramon on her heels. He gave the room an appraising look, which also encompassed the wide bed under its cream coverlet. Then he turned to her, taking her hand and lifting it up to his lips.
'A pleasant siesta. You have everything you need?' He looked straight into her eyes, and with a sudden rush of painful and unwelcome excitement she realised she had only to make the slightest sign and the door would be locked, closing them in together.
She snatched her hand away, seeing the mockery in his eyes.
'Everything, thank you, señor,' she said in a stiff little voice.
'Can I hope for the pleasure of your company later at dinner?'
She gave him a cool smile and said that it would be very nice. When he had gone, she turned the key in the lock herself. She wanted to collapse limply across the bed, but first she took off the orchid pink dress, and the wig. She saw herself in the mirror across the room. Except for the slightly heavier make-up, she was herself again. She ran her fingers through her sticky hair and moved towards the bathroom. As she did so, she had to pass the bed, and just for a moment she let the tight rein she kept on herself slacken a little and wondered what would have happened if she had given him the signal he wanted a smile would have been enough, she thought, or even the faintest pressure of her fingers, in his.
And just for a moment her imagination ran wild, and he was there in the bed waiting for her, his golden skin dramatically dark against the pale sheets, his eyes caressing her as she moved towards him.
She stopped the pictures unrolling in her mind right there with an immense effort of will.
Then she said, 'Hell,' quite viciously, and went to have her shower.
She had managed to recover her composure by the time she was due to join him in the dining room. She was wearing a simple dark red dress with black high-heeled court shoes, and a small evening bag. Her precious leather holdall was safely stowed in the closet.
The verandah bar outside the motel restaurant was crowded with people, many of them tourists, but she saw him at once. He was sitting at a table near the verandah rail, with a glass in his hand, and he was frowning. Nicola noticed wryly that a party of American women at the next table couldn't take their eyes off him.
She threaded her way through the other tables, and joined him. 'Buenas tardes, señor.' She meant to sound cool, but only succeeded in being shy. He rose immediately, holding a chair for her to sit down and summoning a waiter with a swift imperious flick of his fingers. She asked for a tamarindo and it came at once.
She sipped, relishing the coolness of the drink and its faintly bitter flavour.
'Tell me,' he said, 'those dark glasses—surely you don't need them in the evening. I hope there is nothing the matter with your eyes.'
'Oh, no,' she said calmly. I've just been advised to wear them all the time for a short while.' And that, she thought with satisfaction, was nothing less than the truth.
'A pity,' he said. 'One can learn so much about a woman from her eyes.'
She said sweetly, 'And about a man, señor.'
His mouth quivered slightly. 'As you say,' he agreed.
It was pleasant, looking out into the darkness with the scent of the flowers wafting to them on the night air, and hearing the distant splash of water from the fountains interspersed with the bursts of laughter and