And how much she had to tell him.
Shifting restlessly in her seat, she took her thoughts back to the wedding. They’d hardly spoken during the day. She’d been busy with bridesmaid’s duties, while Raffa had been forced to leave early to make his flight. Some internal warning system had alerted her to the moment he left, and the dreadful sinking sense of loss she had experienced then had never left her. Maybe it never would. Professional relationship? Just the thought of the pledge they’d made to maintain a professional relationship between them seemed like so much nonsense now. Perhaps Raffa could accept it, but then he didn’t know—
‘It’s time to fasten your seat belt, Señorita Skavanga.’
Jolted out of her troubled thoughts by the friendly young flight attendant standing at her side, Leila apologised and quickly fastened her seat belt. ‘I didn’t see you there. I was...’ Daydreaming, Leila silently supplied.
‘Welcome to Isla Montaña de Fuego, señorita.’
The Island of the Mountains of Fire. How appropriate. Staring out of the small window, she experienced a huge and extremely inconvenient swell of love for Raffa.
And had to mask those feelings. Raffa must know she was completely in control when they met up, and that meant no lingering glances, no longing, no nothing.
To dull the ache inside her, she turned her attention to the view outside the window as the plane came in to land. Seen from this height, Raffa’s island retreat was surprisingly lush and green. A deep ivory band of sand bordered a bright blue sea on one side of the island, while on the other coastline an angry sea lashed a range of dramatic black rocks. The contrast was glaring. The young cabin attendant explained that they would be landing in the north of the island. ‘The south is softer, and has fabulous golden beaches,’ she went on, dipping her head to follow Leila’s gaze out of the window.
Leila instantly pictured Raffa’s fortress home being in the north, where it would be well barricaded from the world between forbidding mountains and a ferocious sea. ‘Why don’t you sit with me for landing, Elena?’ There was so much more she wanted to know about the island and about the man who lived here...the man with whom, quite incredibly, she was expecting a baby.
‘Where exactly is the castle?’ she asked as soon as Elena was safely buckled in.
‘Don Leon’s home is in the south of the island.’
When Leila expressed surprise, Elena explained. ‘The reasoning in the old days was that because of the treacherous rocks in the north, that part of the island was impregnable and could take care of itself, while the south was soft and vulnerable. So that’s where Don Leon’s ancestors built their castle.’
It made perfect sense, which was more than could be said for Leila’s current state of mind.
‘The castle is absolutely stunning,’ Elena went on. ‘Don Leon has been working so hard on it for years. Have you seen it yet?’
‘No, I haven’t.’ Leila looked at Elena with renewed interest. The young girl was very pretty.
And why was she behaving like a jealous lover? It was time to put this pointless longing for Raffa Leon out of her head for good.
But how could she ever cut him out of her life now?
Elena interrupted Leila’s thoughts with some more information about the castle. ‘It’s not forbidding at all. Don Leon has done so much of the work himself and he invites his staff each year for a party so we can see how the work is progressing. He’s such a generous man.’