Her stomach clenched at Raffa’s words. He couldn’t have made it any plainer that he didn’t want any reminders of their brief and passionate encounter. ‘I am reassured,’ she lied, her mind full of the baby. How could she tell him now?
She had to find a way to tell him. It was as simple as that.
They drove in tense silence for quite a time. She stared blindly out of the window, but the incredible view finally pierced her sombre mood. Raffa’s island home was beautiful and she couldn’t remain immune to it. The jet hadn’t flown over this part of the island. The agricultural land was lush and well cared for, and on the fringes of the rolling fields immaculately maintained farmsteads slumbered in the sun. He drove on through quaint villages, where white villas nestled in companionable groups on tree-cloaked hills, until finally he turned to her and said, ‘This is the village where I live.’
She looked with interest at the cobbled streets and a tiny market square, where stalls selling fresh produce from outlying farms were bustling with activity. As they passed through the village they drove on along a clifftop road where she could see the bright blue sea glinting far below them. ‘This is lovely,’ she exclaimed impulsively, relaxing for the first time since she’d arrived.
‘Wait until you see the castle. There—on the top of the hill.’
Seeing their destination loom in front of her made all of Leila’s fears return. If only Raffa already knew about the baby, and they could celebrate her pregnancy together—not that he was ever likely to celebrate, with his thoughts on the subject.
She turned to look at him as he launched into a brief history of the ancient building he was working so hard to save, and found herself wishing she didn’t have any secrets from him so she could relax and enjoy this trip to the full.
Her biggest surprise was when they drove beneath the imposing stone archway that led through from the outer walls of the castle into the inner courtyard. Instead of closing around her as she had expected, being inside the ancient fortress actually lifted her spirits. The castle might have been built with the sole intention of defending the island from invaders, but it felt more like a friendly giant than a glowering monster.
‘Everyone says the same thing,’ Raffa agreed when she commented. ‘I think it’s the angle of the sun on the stone that makes it glow and seem so welcoming.’
At least they were talking, Leila registered with relief. If she could keep that going, maybe the tension between them would relax. Build enough of a bridge and she could have a proper discussion about the baby.
‘The same building beneath the steely skies of Skavanga might struggle to look as attractive as this,’ she admitted, turning to him.
‘You’re probably right,’ Raffa agreed. ‘I hope you’re not too disappointed when we go inside, as I only live in a small part of the castle. I’m gradually turning the rest into a museum.’
‘Museums are becoming a bit of a theme between us,’ she remarked as he switched off the engine. She stopped there, seeing something in Raffa’s eyes that warned her off. It said there were no common themes between them.
‘I’ve housed you in one of the guest turrets,’ he said as they got out of the Jeep. Shading his eyes with his hand, he stared up to where the crenelated battlements were decorated with flags.
‘Like Rapunzel,’ she suggested lightly.
‘Like someone I thought might enjoy the view.’
‘I’m here to work, not to stare out of the window all day,’ she reminded him, working hard to keep the conversation between them going. And you’re not scrambling up my hair any time soon, she thought as Raffa glanced at her.