The Longest Holiday (20 page)

The house is silent, empty. We’re alone. I stare at Leo, willing him to look at me, to give me some sign. But he goes straight to the stairs. On autopilot I follow him up. He obviously expects me to tail off to my room, so, when I don’t, he glances back at me with confusion. I give him a look and walk past him to the second set of stairs. I’m halfway up before I glance over my shoulder to see him still standing at the bottom. His expression is torn. I continue up the stairs and push open his door.

There’s a double mattress on the floor – no bed base – with dishevelled cream-coloured sheets and two pillows, dented with the outline of his head. His curtains are drawn, so the light is dim, but I can just make out the ever-present dust motes gliding through the air. He has posters on his walls of old Cuba, and a rail for his clothes to hang on. Most are slung over the top of the rail and on a chair, not hanging, just thrown where he’s taken them off. It smells of him, dark and musty, woody with cigar smoke. It smells of sex. He hasn’t had a woman here since I’ve been here. But it smells of sex – the sex I absolutely have to have with him. I hear his footsteps on the stairs and then he’s standing right behind me. I can hear his breathing and it matches mine, short and sharp and fierce with desire. I crave his touch, his lips on my neck, but nothing happens. I turn around to face him. His features are taut, his chin tilted up and away from me, but his eyes stare down at me, flashing in the low light. I want him so much. I reach up and touch his face.

‘No.’ His voice sounds harsh, but he doesn’t push me away.

Feeling stung, I let my hand drop, but I can’t give up. Won’t give up. I’m desperate for him to kiss me.

‘You have a husband.’ His breathing is laboured.

‘Not for much longer.’

He shakes his head. ‘You’ll go home. Things change. How you feel about him …’

‘I’ll never forgive him,’ I say fervently as I place my hand on his chest. It’s firm under my touch. How I want his T-shirt off …

‘Laura. Stop.’ It’s him saying my name that makes me realise I can do anything but. I place my other hand on his chest and slide both of them upwards to his neck, warm under my touch. He resists when I try to bring his face down to mine, but I stand up on tiptoes and look him right in the eyes. I can smell him from here, the warmth of his breath, the citrusy smell of his shower gel. For a moment I think he looks scared, but I hesitate only a second before my lips are on his. He’s frozen under my touch, his lips firm and unrelenting. I pull away, but only by a few inches as I gaze up at him.

‘Leo, don’t tell me to stop.’

His eyes are filled with pain. I bring one hand around and touch it to his clenched jaw, and then I press my lips back to his, willing his to open, to kiss me back. I lightly trace his lips with my tongue and I think that’s what breaks him because his sudden sharp inhalation sucks the breath out of my mouth and then his rough hands are in my hair, pulling me to him as his lips crush mine. I gasp for air and kiss him back. My hands are up inside his T-shirt and I pull it over his head before doing the same to my dress. He hikes me up so I have to wrap my legs around his waist and then he presses me up against a wall and kisses my neck. I think I’m in heaven. I want this man so much – and I can feel how much he wants me, too. I push him away and tackle his shorts, desperate to remove all barriers between us. We fall down to the bed.

In the back of my mind I realise I have no condoms and I think I’ll cry if he doesn’t either, but before I can ask his hand is in a bedside drawer, rummaging around.

‘Fuck!’ he curses, then breathes a sigh of relief as his fingers find what he’s looking for. Moments later he’s ready for me, and I’ve never felt more ready for him, for anyone. He stares deep into my eyes as he sinks into me, and then my back is arched, my neck stretched, my mind delirious.

‘Open your eyes,’ he says harshly and they shoot open, meeting his stare, dark with desire. He kisses my lips passionately before cupping my face, his thumb stroking my brow, reminding me to look at him. And then we begin to move together, and it’s the most intense sex I’ve ever had, peppered with ardent kisses, but mostly just locking eyes until that final moment when I let go and scratch my fingernails hard down his back. He shouts out in ecstasy laced with pain before collapsing on me, both of us panting heavily.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips to his neck, which is damp with sweat, as I try to get my breath back.

He recovers before I do, meeting my eyes before rolling off me. ‘You’re going to kill me,’ he says in a low, warning voice. I don’t know how to respond, but I know I don’t want to let him go so I twist towards him and lay my head on his chest. A moment later his arm curls around me and he holds me tightly. We stay like that until we both fall asleep.

I’m still in his arms when I awake, and I lift my head slightly to gaze at him. He’s fast asleep, his features softer and more innocent than I’ve seen them. I trace my forefinger across his eyebrow and he starts suddenly, his eyes opening to look at mine. His intense expression returns instantly, and I regret for a second that I’ve woken him. I press my lips to his, and he hesitates only a moment before kissing me back. We’re still unclothed under the crumpled bed sheets and I manoeuvre my body so I’m lying partially across him. It’s blissful feeling his naked body against mine: skin on skin as we kiss. He brings me up so I’m on top on him and once more I can feel his desire. I hope he has a decent stash of condoms, because I have no intention of leaving his room anytime soon.

It’s early evening before we hear the others return from wherever they’ve been all day. We’ve dozed in and out of sleep all afternoon, having sex in between. I lift my head and touch my hand to Leo’s neck. He regards me with not quite as much of his usual intensity.

‘Do you think they’d notice if we never went downstairs again?’ I ask.

He smiles at me and quickly kisses my lips. ‘I’m hungry.’

He gets out of bed and I watch furtively as he pulls on some boxer shorts, followed by his shorts and T-shirt from earlier. I let out a small sigh of discontent as I say goodbye to his glorious nakedness.

‘Your turn.’ He holds his hand down to me and I stand up, feeling more self-conscious now that he’s dressed.

I pull on my knickers, followed by my bra and then he passes me my dress. I turn and check my appearance in a small mirror on his old-fashioned dresser – not unlike the one downstairs in my room. I notice his cigar case on top, and smile as I wipe a damp finger underneath my eyes to brush away some errant mascara. I turn to face him and he walks forward, pulling me back into his arms. He holds me tightly for a few seconds, his warm breath in my hair as I press my face against his chest. I suddenly have an almost overpowering urge to cry. I quickly swallow the lump in my throat and pull away, but I’m reluctant to leave this room. He takes my hand and leads me to the door, only dropping it to jog down the stairs. I follow him disconsolately.

‘You’re back!’ Jorge exclaims when we appear in the kitchen, his eyes flitting between us, his brow creasing as he processes the fact that we came downstairs together. ‘How was it?’ he asks, trying to sound casual, but failing. Or maybe it’s just my imagination that he’s noticed anything wayward in the first place.

‘Good,’ I respond weakly.

‘Got what we went there for,’ Leo adds.

‘You got your computer?’ Jorge asks, turning to attend to the plastic bags full of shopping on the counter.

‘Yep,’ I reply, going to help him unpack.

‘All set up?’

‘No, no, no.’ I brush him off. ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘I’m cooking tonight,’ he tells me.

‘Urgh,’ Leo groans.

‘You want some help?’ I ask.

‘Sure. You can chop a couple of onions for me if you like.’

‘No problem.’

Leo leans against the counter next to me. I smirk at him as I unpack the shopping. ‘Are you going to help, or what?’ I ask cheekily.

‘Wasn’t my coconut curry enough for you?’

‘Is it me or is it feeling hot in here?’ Jorge says. Leo flicks a tea towel at him. ‘Ouch,’ Jorge cries, flashing us both a perplexed look.

I bite my lip and we both try to keep straight faces.

During dinner, Carmen also cottons on that something has happened. I see her eyes flit between Leo and me with increasing confusion. I think it’s partly to do with Leo’s mood – he’s more relaxed and happy tonight, a far cry from his often serious self. ‘Did something happen in Miami?’ she erupts.

‘No,’ Leo replies with a shrug, helping himself to more rice and beans. She’s too taken aback to press him further.

We converge on the chairs outside later, but I avoid alcohol, choosing a large glass of lemonade on ice. Leo goes for beer, as usual. He sits down first, and I take my seat next to him, with Jorge on my other side, as we were the other night. This time, though, when Leo’s arm rests behind my head it feels only natural to edge closer to him, into the crook of his arm. His finger traces circles on my neck, sending shivers up my spine. I glance at him, my gaze falling on his lips before moving up to his eyes. He looks down at me with amusement, reading my mind.

‘What am I missing?’ Carmen suddenly demands to know. ‘What’s going on with you two?’

Leo’s finger freezes on my neck and he addresses her directly. ‘It’s none of your business.’

‘It is my business,’ she says irately. ‘Have you two—’

‘Shut it,’ Leo cuts her off, his finger starting its slow, methodical tracing once again.

She stares at both of us in disbelief, and I sense Jorge’s discomfort to my right. Eric, as usual, seems unfazed by any of this. I think it’s only Javier’s presence that makes Carmen think twice about interrogating us. I see the uncertainty in her eyes as she glances at him, and after that she lets it drop, but I know it won’t be for long.

I’m too caught up in the present to care, and as the evening wears on, my body feels more and more strung out and on edge. I want to go to bed with him. I need to go to bed with him. I can’t bear to wait for much longer. I turn and look up at him, trying to convey my emotions with my eyes. He gives me a brisk nod and removes his arm from around my neck.

‘Night.’

‘Already?’ Carmen asks with surprise. Leo is usually the last one to hit the sack.

‘Me, too,’ I say, both of us now on our feet. I can’t look her in the eye as I follow Leo inside, and a minute later, when his lips are devouring every inch of my body, she’s far, far, far from my mind.

In the early hours of the morning, nature demands that I take a trip to the toilet. I disentangle myself from Leo’s firm grip and pull on his T-shirt before heading downstairs. I brush my teeth and splash water on my face before stepping back out onto the landing, and then I nearly jump out of my skin when I see Carmen, in a white, thigh-length nightie, standing at the top of the stairs like a ghostly apparition.

‘You scared the life out of me!’ I gasp, putting my hand to my chest.

In response she grabs my arm and marches me into my bedroom.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I demand to know as she shuts the door behind her.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ she throws back at me. ‘You’re married!’

I don’t really know what to say to that.

‘You can’t screw around with him like this!’ she hisses, not raising her voice enough to wake the house.

‘Are you talking about Leo?’ I double-check, because it’s possible she’s referring to my husband.

‘Of course I’m talking about Leonardo!’ It strikes me out of the blue that she’s not actually angry. She seems … anxious?

‘Look,’ I try to reason with her. ‘I really like him.’ These words feel so odd coming out of my mouth – especially to her. ‘I don’t intend to hurt him.’

‘Are you insane?’ she asks me coldly. ‘How can you not hurt him?’

‘Why are you so worried?’ I ask through narrowed eyes.

‘You might think that just because we argue, we don’t like each other, but you’re wrong. He’s like a brother to me. When Alejandro died, Leo took care of Javier and me. I won’t sit back and watch you hurt him.’

‘But I don’t want to hurt him!’ I exclaim.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asks incredulously. ‘You can’t stay here. Your visa will run out and you’ll have to go back. And you’re married!’

‘I’ll get a divorce,’ I reply petulantly.

‘What, and marry Leo?’ She starts to laugh with disbelief. ‘He will never marry you. He will never marry anyone. You’re crazy,’ she adds, rubbing pinch upon pinch of salt into my wounds. Not that I want to marry him, for pity’s sake. ‘Leo doesn’t believe in marriage. He doesn’t even believe in love.’

I stare at her. Then I speak. ‘If there’s no chance of him falling in love with me, then you really have nothing to worry about, do you?’

Her mouth falls open with surprise, but I don’t wait for her response. I walk out of the room and go back upstairs.

Leo is awake when I enter his room and shut the door.

‘Hi,’ I say with a smile.

‘Hi,’ he replies, without one.

‘Are you okay?’ I ask, sliding back under the covers and resting my chin on his chest so I can stare up at him. He has a shadow of stubble on his heavenly jaw and his dark eyes are looking up at the ceiling.

‘I was going to ask you the same question.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say, before correcting myself. ‘I’m good.’

‘Carmen didn’t freak you out?’

‘Not really.’

He heard us, then. I reach up and touch his cheek, willing him to look at me. He does. I lean in closer and kiss him, but I can sense him holding back.

‘What is it?’ I ask, feeling nerves begin to swell in my stomach.

‘Nothing,’ he replies after a pause, kissing me. He tugs at his T-shirt that I’m still wearing, flashing me a cheeky smile.

‘You want me to take it off?’ I ask meaningfully.

He slides it up my body and over my head in response.

It’s only later that the reality of what I’ve done begins to sink in. Leo has gone to work at the dive centre – Tegan has returned to New Zealand so he’s helping out until they find a replacement – which leaves me alone in the house, with only my thoughts to keep me company. And, for the most part, they’re not good company. At first they are: I keep touching my fingers to my lips, remembering Leo’s kisses and my hours in his bedroom. I have to force myself to spend time setting up my computer, and I think it’s this return to real life that finally makes my head spin. I install myself temporarily at the dining-room table and Becky liaises with me by email, bringing me up to date with the upcoming charity ball she’s pretty much organised single-handedly. As the day wears on, my feelings of guilt about the extra work she’s had to put in develop into a deep and unpleasant sense of foreboding. I’ve been having sex with another man while I’m still married to Matthew, and I’m feeling quite sick about it.