Island Fling To Forever. Sophie Pembroke
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had filled his whole world, pushing everything else to the edges. The connection had been instantaneous, even if the physical side of their relationship had developed more slowly. Rosa had spoken to them all, of course, taking notes, filming them, her camera always to hand. But somehow, when it had been just the two of them, Jude had found himself giving up far more than she’d asked for—details about his life, his mind, his friendships, his heart. Details she’d never used in the article, because they were just for her.
Whenever the music was done, they’d gravitate towards each other, letting the others head out to party while they headed back to the bus or a hotel room. And soon, all those late-night talks had become midnight kisses, and more, as Jude had lost himself in the wonder of Rosa.
Unbidden, memories of their last night came back to him, filling his brain with the images of them together. The hotel room, the champagne, the post-gig euphoria that always came over him—and Rosa. Rosa’s eyes, bright with excitement. Her hair, loose and soft and dark as it hung over her bare shoulders. Her olive skin, so smooth and welcoming under his hands.
The feel of her against him, both of them mindless with the kind of passion Jude knew didn’t come around all that often.
Or ever, for him, it seemed, unless it was with Rosa.
It was crazy. He’d been with supermodels, Hollywood actresses—some of the widely acknowledged most beautiful women in the world.
And they’d never made him feel an iota of what he felt in one night with Rosa.
He pushed the memories aside. It was that passion, that uncontrolled connection, that had made him forget the promise he’d made to Gareth after his first close call. Jude had sat beside that hospital bed looking at his best friend—too pale, too lost, so close to being utterly ruined by the drugs and the alcohol and the life it was so easy to live as a band on the road. And he’d made the most important promise of his life—he’d promised to keep Gareth safe from then on. To be the one Gareth could rely on to steer him away from temptation, to remind him how much he had to live for.
But then he’d met Rosa and let that promise slide, too distracted by passion and infatuation to notice his best friend slipping again.
Until it was too late.
Shaking his head, he looked away as he saw Sancia putting an arm around Rosa’s shoulders as she led her further into the villa. He had to stop living in his memories.
He needed to focus on what this meant for his future.
He’d made a new promise, when Gareth died—an echo of the one he’d made him a year before, except this one he’d kept, would keep on keeping. He’d live life for the both of them. He’d have the success that should have been theirs, chase the fame Gareth had always wanted. Live the life Gareth should be there to enjoy.
The Swifts’ success wasn’t his. It wasn’t even Jimmy’s or Lee’s or Tanya’s. It was all for Gareth.
And that was why he could never walk away from it. He owed his friend, for the life he got to live, without him, and for the promise he should have kept.
But even then, he couldn’t stay in New York for the publication of that book.
He’d come to La Isla Marina with a very firm objective in mind—to stay out of the public eye for a few weeks, long enough for all the fuss about The Naked Truth to fade away again, and to give him time to think about his next move, musically.
But Rosa being here...that could change everything. He mustn’t forget that he’d actually met Rosa when she was photographing the band for some British music magazine. What were the chances she was still doing that sort of work? Just because he hadn’t seen her at any of his gigs since didn’t mean she wasn’t still in the game.
And even if she wasn’t, she was a freelance photojournalist. A few shots of Jude Alexander hiding out on a remote Spanish island, when no one else had been able to get a hint of where he was...that would pay big money. Enough for a struggling freelancer to not have to worry about bills for a while, anyway.
Would she sell him out?
Three years ago, Jude could have answered that question without hesitation: never. Rosa wasn’t that sort of person. He might have only known her for four weeks, but he’d learned more about her in one month than he’d known about his own parents in a lifetime.
And maybe it still meant something. After all, she hadn’t used his secrets in the eventual article that had been published about that month-long tour. And there was no mention of Rosa—or any of the secrets only she knew—in That Book. There were whole chapters on Gareth, his death, Jude’s guilt over it, and everything that happened next, but no mention of the part Rosa had played in everything that happened.
Of course, probably the author just hadn’t known to look for Rosa. If they had...
No, she still wouldn’t have talked. She wasn’t that sort of person, he was sure.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth making sure she was on the right side of his hide-and-don’t-seek game with the press, before she let something slip to the wrong person.
The last thing Jude wanted was to have his hiding place uncovered now, just when his last remaining secret had walked back into his life.
‘MAMA. MAMA!’ Rosa interrupted her mother’s non-stop flow of conversation with an impatient shout. It might be rude, but she knew from experience that if she didn’t get in there quick before Sancia got lost in one of her conversational tangents, she could be stuck discussing anything but the matter in hand for hours before she got back to the point.
Sancia stopped talking, smiled, then hugged her again.
Rosa hugged her back. Maybe there were some parts of this homecoming that weren’t completely awful. Hugs from her mama were definitely one of them. Whatever their family issues, Rosa knew she was lucky to still have her mother in her life. Ten years after she left, Rosa had long forgiven her for walking out on them—understood why she’d needed to, even. Rosa knew that, in her place, she’d have done the same.
If she couldn’t fix a situation, couldn’t get what she needed from it, she broke free. Just as her mother had done. Just ask Jude.
‘I’m sorry, querida,’ Sancia said, with a warm smile. ‘I’m just so excited to have both my girls home with me again.’
Which led Rosa neatly into the first of her very many questions. ‘Where is Anna, anyway? Jude said something about her going to Barcelona with someone called Leo?’ Which seemed utterly unlike her sister, to be honest.
‘Ah, you’ve already met Jude! Isn’t he a delight?’ Sancia beamed. ‘We were so lucky he decided to come and stay here, you know. And he brought your father over with him, for which we are all grateful.’
‘He...brought Dad?’ Rosa frowned. That made no sense at all. But then, Sancia’s ramblings often didn’t.
‘Well, they arrived together. They travelled over from the mainland in the same boat.’ Which was not at all the same thing, Rosa realised.
Sancia didn’t always operate on exactly the same plane as everyone else. It wasn’t worth explaining the difference—or asking if Sancia had even realised who Jude was. The Swifts wouldn’t mean anything to her mother. And she definitely didn’t want to mention their past acquaintance.
Which left her with her more immediate concerns.
‘So, Mama. Anna. Where is she?’
‘Why, Barcelona, like Jude said. With Leo.’
‘And Leo is...?’ Rosa pressed.
‘Anna’s...well, not boyfriend, exactly. At least I don’t think so. Lover, I suppose.’ Sancia sounded far too happy with that answer. Rosa tried