Island Fling to Forever Read online

  So what could have brought him here now? Were things worse than she thought? Maybe it wasn’t the island that had Sancia panicked. Maybe it was something else. She should have got here sooner...

  Her heart raced as all the worst-case scenarios flooded her mind. Rosa grabbed for the memory of meditation practice in India, two years ago, and focussed on her breath until she had it under control again.

  No point getting worked up until she had some answers. Which meant asking questions. ‘Where is Mama? And Anna? And the guests, come to that? I was expecting—’

  She didn’t get any further, because as she started talking her father’s Scrabble companion turned around and Rosa got a good look at his face, pale and shadowed in the cool of the patio shade but still absurdly perfect, with cheekbones that emphasised the beautiful shape of his face, and the incredible blue of his eyes.

  It was too late to run. Too late to hide. And Rosa didn’t even know how to fight this sudden intrusion. Her whole body seemed fixed to the spot as a hundred perfect memories ran through her mind, racing over each other, all featuring the man in front of her.

  Whatever she’d been expecting from her return to La Isla Marina faded away. Because there in front of her, on her Mama’s back patio, sat the last person she’d ever expected to see again—and a perfect reason to join Sancia and start panicking.

  Jude Alexander.

  * * *

  La Isla Marina, Jude had decided within a few hours of his arrival, was the perfect hideaway from the real world. It had sun, sand, sangria and—most importantly for him—solitude. In fact, he wasn’t all that bothered about any of the first three items on the list, as long as he was left alone while he was there.

  Fame, it turned out, was overrated. Especially the sort of fame that meant he couldn’t go anywhere without being recognised, or do anything without the world having an opinion about his actions. It might have taken him a while to see the downsides of celebrity, but now that he had...well, Jude was experiencing them in spades.

  So it was sort of ideal that his main companion on the island was an ageing Oxford professor who hadn’t got the slightest idea who Jude was. Professor Gray was perfectly content to play Scrabble for hours, or talk about events of the last century, or the one before—without ever asking a question about Jude’s own life. The man’s self-absorption—or perhaps his preoccupation with the historical world—made Jude’s quest to escape the person he’d become all the easier. The professor hadn’t even explained why he was there himself, let alone asked Jude what had brought him to the remote Spanish island.

  If Professor Gray didn’t know or care who Jude was, his ex-wife, Sancia, and daughter Anna were too busy to even notice. Apparently there was some sort of event happening at the island later in the month—Sancia hadn’t gone into details—and it was all hands on deck to prepare for it. All hands except his and Professor Gray’s. Jude got the feeling he’d been cast in the role of companion, or perhaps nurse, to the professor since they’d arrived together. Whatever the reason, it was all working out fine for him.

  Until a voice he’d never dreamed or hoped he’d hear again spoke.

  ‘Dad?’ He hadn’t realised what he was hearing, at first. That one word wasn’t enough to make the memories hit—which surprised him, given how many other things seemed to trigger them.

  ‘Rosa.’ That name, spoken in Professor Gray’s cultured tones. That was his first clue. ‘Your mother told us you’d be joining us. Eventually.’

  But still, Rosa had to be a reasonably common Spanish name, right? There was no reason to imagine it was his Rosa. Or, rather, the Rosa who’d made it very clear that she’d rather leave the country than belong to him.

  The Rosa he’d known, three years before, was probably still thousands of miles away on the other side of the world, chasing whatever dreams he couldn’t be a part of. Dreams she’d never even told him about, even as he’d spilled every one of his to her.

  That Rosa couldn’t be here. That was insane. Maybe the latest events in New York had actually driven him mad after all. It would explain the midnight flight to Spain, anyway.

  ‘Where is Mama? And Anna? And the guests, come to that?’ But as she spoke Jude realised there was no point denying what he was hearing, not any more. Only one person, one voice, had ever made his heart shudder like that.

  There was no point hiding. La Isla Marina was his best shot at a hiding place, and she was already here.

  Time to face his demons.

  Jude turned around.

  ‘I was expecting—’ Rosa cut herself off, staring. ‘Oh.’

  She looked just the same—same wild dark hair, same wide, chocolate eyes with endless lashes. Same sweet, soft mouth. Same curves under her jeans and T-shirt, same smooth skin showing on her bare arms. Same neat, small feet shoved into flip-flops.

  Same woman he’d fallen in love with, last time they met.

  ‘Hello, Rosa.’ Jude tried for a smile—that same smile that graced album covers and posters and photo shoots. The one that never felt quite real, any more. Not since Rosa left. And definitely not since Gareth.

  There was no answering smile on Rosa’s face though, only shock. Who could blame her? It wasn’t as if he’d planned this, either.

  He might have done, three years ago, if he’d known about this place—or rather, known that this was her home. Because now, too late, all the pieces were falling into place. She’d left him to go back to her mother’s family home, for her grandfather’s funeral—and never come back again. La Isla Marina must have been where she’d run to.

  If he’d known that then, would he have followed?

  Or would he have accepted that she’d not told him where she was going for a reason?

  Oh, who was he kidding? Even if he’d known where she was, he’d have sat there waiting for her to come back because he’d had faith in her. Something that had turned out to be seriously misplaced. And the day he’d realised that was the terrible day that everything had happened with Gareth, and he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Except down, in a despair spiral he almost hadn’t made it out of. And then, suddenly, up the charts, for all the wrong reasons.

  After Gareth, how could he have let himself see her again, anyway? He’d broken every promise he’d ever made for this woman, and she’d walked out anyway, leaving his world destroyed and empty.

  Of course he hadn’t chased her across the globe. Even if he’d wanted to, and hated himself for that.

  So many conflicting emotions tied up in the curvy, petite woman standing in front of him, all tangled and tight around his heart. Would he ever escape those bonds?

  Rosa was still staring at him, stunned, and Jude hunted around for something to say. For some of the many, many words he’d wished he could say to her over the last few years. The accusations, the questions, the declarations, anything. But nothing came out.

  ‘You two know each other?’ Professor Gray was looking between them, confused.

  Something about his voice seemed to snap Rosa out of her shock, as she gave them both a lopsided smile that never quite reached her eyes. ‘Oh, Dad, everyone knows Jude Alexander. He has possibly the most recognisable face in the world, right now.’

  Professor Gray turned his curious gaze onto Jude, as if searching for fame in his features.

  ‘Your daughter photographed me for a publication a few years ago,’ he explained, blandly. No hint of the true story between that four-week study when Rosa travelled with them on tour, capturing every moment of their rise to fame. Of Gareth’s last tour. ‘I’m in a band, you see.’

  ‘A band?’ Rosa scoffed. ‘Jude is the frontman of The Swifts, Dad. Hottest band of the decade, some are saying.’ She raised an eyebrow at him, and Jude tried not to squirm under it. Not just because of the inevitable uncomfortableness that always came when someone referred to him as the frontman, instead of Gareth.
But because he had so been enjoying not being that Jude Alexander for a while.

  ‘You know I don’t follow popular culture, Rosa.’ Professor Gray dismissed his daughter’s words with a wave of his hand. ‘But Jude here is an almost competent Scrabble player, at least.’

  Jude watched as Rosa’s gaze flicked over to him at her father’s words, meeting his for just a second. Just long enough for him to feel the same connection he’d experienced the night they’d met. It hit him deep, inside those tangled threads around his heart, a piercing guilt tied up with want and need and lust.

  Still. Nice to know he hadn’t imagined it, that connection. Even if it clearly never had the same effect on Rosa as it had on him.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve found a playmate, Father,’ Rosa said, her tone scathing. ‘But Jude’s Scrabble abilities don’t answer any of my questions. Where are Mama and Anna? And what on earth are you doing here?’ She glanced at Jude again as she asked the last question, leaving him uncertain as to whose presence she was most baffled by.

  Jude didn’t blame her.

  Now the initial shock of her arrival had passed, he found himself watching her more closely, looking beyond the familiarity of the woman he’d known so intimately—if, apparently, incompletely—three years ago. There were changes, ones he hadn’t initially spotted. She was leaner now, he realised, harder even. Her mass of long, dark curls had been tamed back into a braid that hung over her left shoulder, and her dark eyes were far more wary than he remembered. Even in her relaxed jeans and fitted T-shirt, her sunglasses dangling loosely from her fingers, she looked poised to run at any moment. As if this beautiful island resort was more of a trap than her home.

  What had made her look that way? And why, after all this time, did he even care?

  ‘Your mother is talking with the cook about dinner, I believe,’ Professor Gray said. ‘And as for your sister, I have no idea.’

  ‘She went to Barcelona with Leo,’ Jude put in, since apparently he was paying more attention to the professor’s family than he was.

  ‘Leo?’ Rosa’s nose crinkled up as she said the name. ‘Who on earth is...? Never mind. Dad, why are you here?’

  Professor Gray observed his daughter mildly. ‘Why, is it such a crime for a man to wish to spend time with his family?’

  From the look Rosa gave him in return, Jude rather thought her answer might be yes.

  ‘Professor Gray?’ Maria, the only non-family member of staff that Jude had actually met on the island, appeared in the villa doorway. ‘There is a phone call for you at Reception? From Oxford?’

  ‘Still no mobile phone, huh, Dad?’ Rosa asked.

  ‘I have one,’ Professor Gray answered, loftily, as he got to his feet. ‘I merely do not see the requirement for it to always be on my person. Or switched on.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’

  As Professor Gray made his way into the villa, Jude found himself staring at Rosa again. What was it about this woman that captivated him so, that he couldn’t look away, even now, after everything that had happened because he’d fallen for her? He wished he knew. Maybe then he could break free of it. As it was...

  ‘So.’ Rosa moved to take her father’s chair opposite him, and Jude knew exactly what was coming next.

  She was going to ask him a question, and he was going to have to decide how much of the truth he wanted to tell her. Given that last time he’d told her everything—opened up every part of himself and shared it with her—and she’d left anyway, he had a feeling that this time discretion might really be the better part of valour.

  Or, as Gareth would have said, if he were still alive to say it, Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice...

  Jude wasn’t going to let that happen. In any sense of the word.

  Rosa sat down, and caught his eye across the table.

  ‘What are you doing here, Jude?’

  Jude opened his mouth, and prepared to lie.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE WAS GOING to lie to her.

  Three years, and Rosa could still see the tell in the way Jude glanced to the side before speaking.

  She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t exactly done much to earn the truth from him.

  But on the other hand, this was her home, her place—and she’d never told him about it. Had he been stalking her, searching for her, these last three years? Had he come here to find her? And if so, why on earth now, not three years ago?

  No, that was ridiculous. She hadn’t known she was coming herself until two weeks ago, and she had a hard time believing that Sancia and Anna had teamed up to come up with some outrageous story to get her there, just to help Jude out.

  Unlikely as it seemed, this had to be some kind of crazy coincidence.

  Rosa wasn’t entirely sure if that made it better or worse.

  ‘Believe it or not, I came here to work on some new music,’ Jude said. Just the words conjured up memories of watching him composing, trying out new melodies on his guitar at the back of the tour bus, folded up to sit on the narrow bunk she lay in. Some of the most precious moments they’d spent together in that too-short month were times like that, when no one else was there or awake, when it was just them and the music.

  But she couldn’t think about that now. Memories weren’t going to help her figure out what the hell was going on here.

  ‘So you had no idea that this was my mother’s family home?’ Rosa asked, her eyes narrowing. It didn’t hurt to double check these things, right?

  ‘None at all.’ That, at least, seemed to be the truth. So where was the lie? He was a musician, of course he’d come here to work on music. Except where was the rest of the band, in that case? Or what was left of it.

  The memory hit her harder than she’d expected. An article online she’d caught by chance, that had left her crying in a foreign airport for a man she’d known and grown fond of. For another star gone too soon. And for Jude, left behind—the only time she’d let herself cry for him at all.

  The band she’d known, when she’d toured with Jude that summer, wasn’t the same band he was with now. Not without Gareth.

  No wonder he hadn’t come after her. He’d been dealing with his own tragedy, while she’d left to attend her abuelo’s funeral and had her whole world changed.

  But that didn’t change the truth of him being here, now. ‘So you expect me to believe that this is just a bizarre and unfortunate coincidence?’

  ‘If you like.’ Jude gave a small, one-sided shrug, but the smile on his lips told her that wasn’t entirely how he’d put it. ‘To be honest, it doesn’t much matter to me what you believe, any more.’

  It had once, though. For one brief, shining month in time, what Rosa had believed had mattered to Jude Alexander. And what he’d believed about her had mattered to her, too.

  Which had only made it harder to let him down when she’d walked away.

  Of course, that was how she knew it was the right decision, too. But that didn’t mean there hadn’t been moments since, days when she’d been lost and alone and confused, when she’d wondered how different things would be if she’d gone back to him when she’d left La Isla Marina, instead of hightailing it for the Middle East, then Australia, then the Americas.

  A whole life she’d thrown away and never lived. Of course she thought about it. She just didn’t let herself imagine it too often, or in too much detail. She didn’t want the regrets—not when she’d done the right thing, and found the life she’d always promised herself because of it.

  She wondered if Jude would understand that, if she told him. Or maybe he’d been relieved when she hadn’t come back. After all, he’d chased and caught his own dreams, too. But they’d come at a high price.

  Rosa picked up a few of her father’s Scrabble tiles, and began rearranging them on the rack, spelling out Spanish words he’d never use,
for her own amusement, trying to find the words she needed to say.

  In the end, she settled for blunt. It was her style, after all.

  ‘I heard about Gareth. I’m sorry. You know how fond I was of him.’ It had been hard not to adore Gareth. His optimism, his openness, the joy he’d found in the world... It was hard to imagine the band without him.

  Hard to imagine Jude without his best friend.

  Jude looked away. ‘Yeah.’ The curt word told Rosa her sympathies weren’t enough. Of course they weren’t.

  Nothing could make up for Gareth’s death. Certainly not anything she had to offer.

  It wasn’t her place to ask what happened, to tell Jude he could talk to her, if he needed to. Wasn’t her place to comfort him for a three-year-old tragedy that obviously still cut him deep.

  She’d given up that place when she left.

  Time to move on. She was never good at the touchy-feely stuff, anyway.

  ‘So, where are the others?’ Always a good way of figuring out whether a person was lying to her—ask a question she already knew the answer to. ‘Jimmy and Lee and Tanya?’ The rest of The Swifts. After all, Jude hadn’t got this famous all on his own, whatever the gossip magazines seemed to think.

  And right now, the gossip sites didn’t seem to know what to think. Rosa didn’t make a point of following Jude’s every career move, or anything—in fact, she made a point of not listening to his music any more than she had to, which was made more difficult by the fact it seemed to be playing everywhere at the moment. Even in the rainforest, someone had brought speakers and been playing The Swifts when they’d set up camp the other week.

  But even she hadn’t been able to avoid the news that Jude Alexander had dropped off the face of the earth. The rest of the band had been photographed out and about in New York City, but there had been no sign of their lead singer.

  Not that Rosa had been concerned about that. Much.

  ‘New York, I think.’ Jude looked away again, down at his own tiles. He wasn’t lying, so maybe just hiding something? Rosa couldn’t tell, any more. ‘I’m working on some...different stuff.’