by Liz Fielding
‘Tara, my dear,’ he said, coming towards her, hands outstretched to take hers. ‘Adam has left you here alone?’
‘He’s gone to the Ruler’s majlis.’
‘But of course. He mentioned it when we met yesterday.’ He was still holding her hands and she pulled them free a little self-consciously. ‘I have a little business with my staff and then I will give myself the inordinate pleasure of taking you out and showing you a little of the island.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Did you know that Bahrain is reputed to be the site of the legendary Dilmun? The lost Garden of Eden?’
Startled, not quite able to marry the island she had seen with her idea of Eden, she queried this statement.
‘Certainly. There are ancient sites. We will visit them but you should perhaps change into something more comfortable.’ His arm was around her shoulders and he was walking her to the stairs.
‘No, really.’ She turned quickly and freed herself. ‘Thank you for your offer, but I should stay here.’
‘You are too conscientious. Adam does not deserve you. The least he could do is organise a little entertainment while he is away.’
‘Oh, he did,’ she said quickly, and explained about Angela.
He was sympathetic. ‘But then there is no reason why you should not take advantage of my offer. Adam clearly did not wish you to stay here on your own and there may not be another opportunity to see a little of the island.’
He was right and despite Adam’s dire predictions Hanna had behaved like a gentleman when he had escorted her home. Rather more so than Adam, she thought a little dourly. She glanced at her watch. It was still early and it would be wonderful to get out for an hour or two. ‘Very well. But I must be back by one o’clock.’
‘Whatever you wish,’ he assured her easily.
She changed into a pair of navy cotton trousers and a silk jersey polo shirt in a vivid shade of fuchsia pink. She pushed her feet into a pair of flat shoes and grabbed a scarf.
As an afterthought she decided to leave a message for Adam. She paused for a moment over the little pad of stick-on notes. Then she was seized by a sense of devilment. ‘Gone to discover the Garden of Eden with Hanna. Back by one. Tara,’ she wrote. And she tacked it on to his bedroom door on her way out.
CHAPTER FIVE
TARA was delighted with the island. Some parts were barren desert, others lush oasis. First Hanna took her to see an oil well chugging away, the nodding donkey gaily painted to look like a grasshopper.
‘It’s not at all what I expected. It’s so small. Not at all dramatic.’
‘You are thinking of drilling rigs, cherie. They cost money. This makes it!’
He pointed out the palace where Adam was visiting the Ruler.
‘Are you Bahraini?’ Tara asked him. ‘You don’t wear the traditional robes.’
A shadow crossed his face. ‘Bahrain is my adopted home. My own country is mired in civil war.’ He shrugged. ‘One day I may go back.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘There is no need to be. Come and look at the beach. It isn’t warm enough to swim, but it is charming.’ He parked the car and led her through deserted palm groves and gardens to a small beach, his arm lingering at her waist. ‘The name Bahrain means “two seas”. Here you see the salt water of the Gulf, but far below fresh water springs bubble up through the sea floor. It is possible to dive down and capture it in a plastic bag. It is part of the legend of Dilmun.’
‘You said there were ancient sites? Is this really the Garden of Eden?’
His smile was enigmatic. ‘That you must judge for yourself. Come, I have arranged a small lunch.’ He indicated a small pavilion set amidst the palm trees and alarm bells began to ring in her head.
‘Lunch?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Good lord, it’s nearly one o’clock. I have to get back.’
He laughed softly. ‘Darling, you must allow yourself to relax a little.’ His hand at her waist compelled her gently towards the pavilion.
She dug her heels in. ‘I’m afraid that’s impossible, Hanna. Adam will be worried if I’m not back.’
‘But you said he arranged for you to shop in the souk? He will simply assume you have decided to lunch out with Angela.’
‘He would have,’ she said, gently. ‘But I left him a note saying that I was spending the morning with you.’
If he was annoyed he didn’t let it show. Hanna’s face betrayed only sadness. ‘I did not realise. I did not see you enter the office.’ And if he had, would the note have disappeared? She dispelled the idea as unjust.
‘I left it upstairs.’
‘Ah. In that case I must take you back. It would not do for him to come and find us alone together here. He can be so...’ — he allowed a smile to cross his face — ‘... so puritanical.’
‘Would he come looking for me?’ she asked, with well-simulated surprise.
‘Oh, yes, Tara. I’m very much afraid he would.’
‘In that case I don’t think we should delay. Thank you for the tour, Hanna.’ She turned back to the car, detaching herself from his hand. ‘It has been most interesting.’
She quickly fastened the seatbelt before he decided to help. Adam had been right and she silently thanked whatever good angel had prompted her to leave a note. She wasn’t certain Hanna believed her but clearly he wasn’t prepared to take the risk. And something that had been niggling at her all morning finally clicked into place.
Hanna said that Adam had told him about the summons to the palace last night, but Adam hadn’t known about it then. She glanced across at her guide. Somehow she didn’t believe it had come as a total surprise to the very smooth Mr Rashid.
Adam was standing in the doorway when they drew up in front of the villa. Tara’s heart sank slightly, she had almost hoped he would still be at the palace, but the way things were going it was inevitable that he should be home first.
‘Did you have a good time?’ he asked, without apparent rancour and she began to relax. Then he turned to her and she saw his eyes. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
‘The Garden of Eden? I don’t think so.’ He might have been right about Hanna, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying so. ‘But it was most interesting.’ She turned quite deliberately and offered the man her hand. ‘Thank you for taking so much trouble to amuse me.’
‘It was no trouble,’ he assured her, bowing slightly. ‘Another time we will explore at more leisure, cherie.’ His eyes suggested he had more than ruins in mind.
‘I look forward to it,’ she replied, somewhat recklessly under the circumstances.
‘There are some faxes requiring answers, if you could spare a moment,’ Adam said curtly. ‘Hanna, can I offer you a drink?’
But Hanna Rashid chose not to outstay his welcome and Adam joined her in the office almost immediately.
‘How did you manage to shake off Angela?’ he demanded.
She looked up. ‘It wasn’t necessary. Angela cancelled.’
‘You’re lying! I could see last night that you weren’t keen on a trip to the souk. Now I know why. Hanna organised my “invitation” to the majlis because you had already arranged this morning’s jaunt.’ His mouth was an angry slit. ‘Where did he take you? His little beach pavilion?’
‘He took me sight-seeing, Adam.’ Her hand shook slightly as she pressed the send button. ‘I told you he was the perfect gentleman.’ She might easily have imagined the sexual undercurrent in his luncheon invitation. But Adam’s guess about the beach pavilion would seem to confirm it.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I almost believe you. I wonder why?’
‘Maybe because I’m telling the truth,’ she said, crossly.
He shook his head. ‘No. I wonder why Hanna is taking so long over your seduction?’ He ignored her furious denial. ‘One look is normally enough to have women eating out of his hand. When I discovered you had left the night-club with him I was certain...’
&
nbsp; ‘That he would bring me back here, flaunt his conquest under your very nose?’ she asked, astounded.
‘He naturally assumed that I have designs upon you myself. It would amuse him to cut me out.’
‘Oh, I see! This is just a silly boys’ game. You should have explained. I’ll be a little nicer to him in future,’ she added, the sugar sweetness of her voice in direct contrast to the anger she felt. ‘If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll take a shower before lunch.’
‘Tara?’ She turned. His face was creased in a puzzled frown. He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
Lunch was a quiet meal. They were served a fine-fleshed white fish lightly coated in a shrimp sauce, accompanied by a green salad. Adam said very little, but once when she looked up, she caught him looking at her speculatively. She looked quickly away, but felt his eyes return to her again and again as if searching for an answer.
He spent the afternoon making phone calls, suggesting that she might like to rest before the evening.
‘It’s a formal party this evening, Tara. You did bring a long dress?’
‘Yes, I brought a long dress with me,’ she said, glad that her safe black dress was hanging thousands of miles away where she couldn’t be tempted to wear it.
But examining her reflection in the long mirror later that evening, she felt an altogether different sensation. She had made up to emphasize her dark eyes and painted her mouth scarlet to match her dress. Her black hair hung in a glossy curve to her naked shoulders and she had fastened long gold drops to her ears. Her throat, shoulders, arms were all innocent of adornment.
The dress was simple in the extreme. A tiny bodice that hugged her figure, skimming lightly over her breasts and emphasizing her waist. The skirt, full, soft, brilliant, hung to her ankles. She had seen it in the window of a small boutique marked down in the January sales. She had always loved the colour and she had the money her godmother had sent for Christmas with a note to be sure and treat herself to something completely impractical.
The dress matched the description but this was the first time she had worn it. It was gorgeous, but totally unsuitable for a secretary accompanying her boss on a business trip.
‘Are you ready, Tara?’ A tap on the door and Adam’s voice from the other side of the door sent her heart hammering up into her throat. For a crazy moment she considered pleading a headache, sickness, possibly even insanity.
‘I’ll be down in a moment.’ She took one last look but it was too late to yearn to the safe little black number she kept for such occasions and picked up her tiny matching bag and a black wrap and reluctantly left the security of her room.
Adam was standing in the entrance hall, glancing impatiently at his watch when something made him look up.
For a brief unguarded moment she saw a flare of desire heat those green eyes and her blood quickened in urgent response. Then the look was gone and she might have simply imagined it, it might simply have been a trick of the light, because his mouth was a straight hard line and his eyes held not the faintest gleam of warmth.
‘I think I prefer you in the armour plating, Mrs Lambert. You keep better time.’
She fizzed with anger and she was still bubbling with it when Hanna welcomed them both to his luxurious town house. He at least knew how to compliment a woman and lost no time in doing so.
He took her hands in his and kissed them both. ‘How beautiful you look tonight, Tara.’ She felt Adam stiffen at her side and was glad.
‘Thank you, Hanna.’ She offered him her warmest smile and allowed herself to be drawn into the room. She took a glass of champagne and raised it to him. ‘Your good health,’ she offered, knowing that Adam could hear every word.
‘That is in your hands, beautiful madame. Where you hold my heart.’
Tara glanced at him quickly, wondering if he was making fun of her, but he seemed perfectly serious. She sipped the champagne nervously. ‘Won’t you introduce me to some of your friends?’
‘Of course.’ He was immediately the perfect host and although he claimed the first dance with her, he surrendered her to Mark Stringer with good grace.
She suddenly felt a great deal safer. ‘How’s the invalid?’ she asked.
‘Chickenpox confirmed,’ he said, glumly. ‘I was just explaining to Adam that Angela was confined to barracks.’
‘Oh, I am sorry. Send her my condolences.’
He nodded. ‘I will.’
The evening moved steadily on. Adam was apparently oblivious to her presence. Whenever she allowed her eyes to stray in his direction, he was deeply involved in conversation with one of the bankers present, or paying extravagant attention to one of the many beautiful woman in the room.
Only once did their eyes meet across the length of the room, then someone stepped between them and when she looked again he had disappeared. Not that she lacked attention herself. She had partners in abundance and Hanna was there to escort her into supper, attentive and charming, loading her plate from the buffet with foods strange and familiar. After a while, however, it all became rather cloying and she missed Adam’s astringent conversation but he was talking to some fair beauty and didn’t notice her mute appeal for rescue.
Too much attention from Hanna Rashid, allied to the champagne was giving her a headache and the moment his attention was claimed by someone else, she took the opportunity to escape to the cool of the garden.
Tall french windows opened out onto a veranda and a flight of shallow steps led down to the path. The sound of splashing water drew her on into the darker part of the garden, until beyond the trees she saw a pool, lit by submerged lamps with a curved dolphin that threw up a small fountain from its spout. She stood for a moment watching the water play against the light. It was cooler than she had expected and a shiver caught her by surprise, making her wish she had brought her wrap, but she was unwilling to return to the house and the attentions of Hanna.
She had tired of the flirtation. If she had hoped to prick Adam into some response she had not succeeded. Which was perhaps as well.
She began to stroll about the garden and in a few moments came upon a little summer house half concealed by bougainvillaea and scented herbs. There was a huge sofa, loaded with soft cushions and she sank into it, grateful to be away from the noise and clamour of the party.
The first hint that she was not alone was the soft plop of a champagne cork.
‘It is a beautiful refuge from the world, no?’ Hampered by soft cushions and long skirts, Tara tried to rise but Hanna pressed a glass into her hand. ‘This will revive you.’
‘Will it?’ She laughed, nervously.
‘I promise.’ He leaned over her, kissed her shoulder, cutting off her escape. Before she could protest he had joined her on the sofa, but he was at least a foot away and it seemed churlish to object. The man was a practised flirt; he would be congenitally incapable of resisting a pass, nevertheless, she wasn’t about to encourage him further.
She looked around for somewhere to put the unwanted drink and he took it from her, put it down. ‘Darling, Tara. How clever of you to find my little pavilion.’ He kissed her hands, then, without warning his mouth was blazing a trail along her arm. She tried to get up, but the sofa offered no resistance and he was leaning against her now, his weight pinning her back against the cushions.
‘Hanna,’ she protested, urgently.
‘Yes, my darling. I’m here.’ His mouth was warm against her throat, his hand already cupping the soft mound of her breast. She began to struggle in earnest, but to no avail. She was sinking against the cushions, sliding down helplessly onto her back and he had thrown his leg across her.
She knew she would have to scream for help and the thought was sobering. The embarrassment would be acute enough in any circumstances, but Adam Blackmore’s disdain would be unbearable. He had warned her. More than once.
Her protests were ignored and Hanna Rashid, having drunk altogether too much champagne tugged roughly at her zip and exposed her breasts to the c
ool evening air. Now she was really frightened and in a panic lashed out, her nails raking his cheek. He swore, but didn’t loosen his grip. Her struggles served only to excite him further and she opened her mouth. She no longer cared about embarrassment. ‘Adam—’ It came out barely more than a croak. ‘Ad—’
His hand clamped over her mouth. ‘Dieu, Tara. But you are—’ What he thought of her was never to be known. Suddenly his weight was gone and she was left gasping for breath against the cushions.
The sound of a splash and angry stream of gutter French reached her from the pool and then Adam was there, breathing heavily, glaring down at her.
‘Cover yourself up.’ She stared at him, too stunned by the rapid succession of attack and rescue to move. ‘Now!’
Tara struggled against the cushions and with a furious exclamation he reached down and yanked her to her feet and roughly pulled her dress into place, tugging up her zip so carelessly that he caught her flesh. She winced but made no sound. She didn’t think he would be sympathetic to any pain she was suffering.
‘I’m sorry, Adam.’ She was shaking, but he didn’t seem to care.
‘Not half as sorry as you’re going to be.’ He threw a savage glance at Hanna who was climbing from the pool. Then without a word turned and hauled her after him up the steps of the veranda towards the house. Just before they reached the door he stopped so suddenly that they collided and he turned her into his arms. ‘Now, Mrs Lambert, for once in your life do as you are told and co-operate.’ Before she could ask what he meant he was kissing her. Kissing her with all the apparent passionate sincerity of a man bewitched. Only she knew it was all a lie, because once she had been kissed by him when he meant it.
Finally this humiliation was over and he released her.
‘How dare you!’ she breathed, furiously.
‘Please don’t think it gave me any pleasure, but far better, my lady, to have the assembled guests believe you were mussed up by someone you know, than a stranger you chose to flirt with despite all advice to the contrary.’ He was breathing heavily. ‘And this way no one will be surprised by our early departure.’