‘Not seeing you off, going with you,’ he stated blandly.
‘You are not!’ she exploded.
‘The devoted Hassan Mohammed tells me you’ve got the space,’ he said, his tone still suspiciously neutral.
‘The treacherous Hassan, in that case! That isn’t just overdoing it, it’s turning the whole thing into a farce—a caricature! You don’t go and sit in your real girl-friends’ offices, or wherever they work, all day, do you?’
‘This isn’t pleasure or even pretended pleasure but business of a kind, as I’m looking after the hotel’s interests.’ Rob paused deliberately. ‘I want to be sure you know what you’re doing. The Ballard Group isn’t a charity.’
‘You said you don’t usually interfere with the hiring and firing, and the thing that might have made you break your rule—Nadine’s peace of mind—isn’t an issue here as she and Thierry aren’t around!’ she reminded him accusingly. ‘What do you imagine I did? Flung myself at Chester’s feet with such a good sob story that he acted unprofessionally and gave me this job without bothering to find out if I could do it?’
‘I know you didn’t, and I know he wouldn’t,’ he returned dismissively. ‘Nevertheless, he hasn’t seen what you can do. He has only heard about it. I want to see if you live up to your reputation.’
‘No way—’
‘You are currently employed by the Ballard Group, Lucia.’ Rob was beginning to show signs of impatience.
‘And you are Ballard,’ Lucia acknowledged bitterly.
‘The boss,’ he agreed, with a significantly taunting smile.
She hesitated. She really needed this job, and she knew that she was capable of all that it required. Rob was probably hoping she wasn’t, as his preferred solution to the situation created by Thierry and Nadine was obviously to have her off the island.
If she refused to co-operate with him now, she supposed that he could have her fired, and she wasn’t sure how much influence such a man wielded—whether it was sufficiently far-reaching for him to be able to block any alternative employment she went after, or have her deported when she failed to find a job.
‘Are you sure you can bear to tear youself away from Madelon?’
That amused him. ‘Keep on sounding so jealous. It makes our act more convincing.’
‘Your ear is at fault. It’s pity you’re hearing. I feel sorry for her! At least you’re only pretending to be interested in me. All right, I know I can’t stop you coming out with us,’ she yielded tautly, ‘but I don’t want these people knowing you’re checking up on me or their confidence in me will be destroyed.’
‘We’ll let them assume I can’t bear to let you out of my sight.’ Rob laughed as she opened her mouth to argue. ‘Don’t worry; I won’t distract you with any overtly lover-like behaviour.’
He distracted her by existing, she reflected resentfully.
‘Can you swim?’ she asked shortly as they went to join the others. ‘Basile—that’s the boatman—can’t. All the others can, but a couple not well, so if anything goes wrong I’m saving you last’
‘I can swim,’ he assured her amusedly. ‘And I’ve been diving around the Indian Ocean for years, so you’ll be able to give your undivided attention to the paying customers. But what are you expecting to go wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ she snapped, rattled.
The boat arrived while she was introducing him. Noting the reaction from the three female members of the party to his presence, Lucia shook her head disgustedly. How could he imagine anyone found his pretended attachment to her credible when it was so obvious that he could have just about any woman he chose? These three all had perfectly nice husbands as far as she could tell—one was actually on her honeymoon—but they were looking at Rob as if he had only to beckon and they would follow him to the ends of the earth.
Having him on board put her on her mettle, Lucia soon discovered. She was good with people anyway, and she was kept busy answering the group’s questions and pointing out anything she thought might be of interest, such as the barracuda she spotted chasing a shoal of smaller fish when they were out on deep water, and later some big tunny.
They weren’t only interested in things marine either. The women, all in their late twenties or early thirties, wanted to know about the various ways of wearing a pareo, and Lucia happily stood up to demonstrate all the methods she had learnt both here and during the periods her father had worked in Mauritius.
She became aware of Rob’s leisurely appraisal as she released herself from one of the more intricate arrangements, standing revealed in her plain sea-green one-piece. The other men were enjoying the display too, she noticed, but she didn’t mind them. It was just Rob, sitting there and looking at her like that, with a slight smile of enjoyment playing about his mouth, whom she found so disconcerting.
‘That’s about the lot,’ she told the women, quickly retying the pareo in the way she preferred and flashing their husbands a reproving smile. ‘Show’s over.’
It was because of what had happened last night that she was so acutely aware of Rob now, she supposed, and she guessed that it would be some time before she was able to forget the way he had made her feel. But he needn’t have sat there looking at her as if her swimsuit simply didn’t exist—and why had he had to take his shirt off?
All the men were shirtless, in fact, but she was hardly aware of the others. Rob, though! Shooting him surreptitious little glances from behind the protection of her dark lenses, Lucia discovered that her throat had gone dry, and she swallowed. He really was something—so magnificently made, and the strong, sexy impression somehow enhanced by his deep tan and dark chest hair.
They were heading south, the island coast still within sight, when they encountered a large school of dolphins, and Lucia spoke to Basile in the Comorean language, a kind of Creole, asking him to slow the craft.
The sea’s friendliest, most curious creatures immediately approached to play about the boat, keeping up with it and winning enchanted exclamations from the party. Aware of Rob now standing beside her, Lucia removed her sunglasses and looked down at the dolphins, her face tight with reluctance.
But then, glancing briefly at the group and seeing the rapt expressions, her natural inclination to give pleasure triumphed over her loathing of deep water. Telling Basile to stop the engine properly, she whipped off her pareo, dropped it and her glasses, took a step up and dived neatly over the side of the boat.
The dolphins immediately streaked to welcome her and stayed to play. They encouraged her, and she them, and they dived and surfaced together, racing and chasing, Lucia letting them catch her and bump against her in the gentle way that seemed to signal affectionate acceptance.
Surfacing, she trod water and looked back at her entranced audience.
‘Those of you who are good swimmers in deep water are welcome to join me. It’s quite safe,’ she called, but it seemed that they all preferred to watch, still commenting excitedly, cameras clicking busily, so she let the entertainment continue a while.
Finally, with a glance at the sun to see how much time had passed, she abandoned the sport, patting the round head of the particularly attentive dolphin who had adopted her as his special friend and, seeing he was willing, giving him a quick kiss as a finale, to a burst of delighted laughter from the boat.
Then she let a swell of warm water carry her to the side of the craft and he followed, reluctant to let her go, only giving her a last loving nudge of farewell when she put up a hand to pull herself back on board.
It would have to be Rob who helped her up! As she stood swaying slightly he steadied her, and she was shockingly conscious of his sun-warmed flesh just touching her water-cooled body. Her mind had gone blank, dolphins, her duties and the other people on board all forgotten as she was assaulted by an involuntary tug of strong, sweet sensation deep down inside her.
‘You really are a mermaid, aren’t you?’ Rob murmured, his glance enigmatic as it swept over the wet hair plastered to
her skull and her skin, silvered by myriad drops of water now that she stood in the sun.
He still had hold of her by the arms, his fingers light and warm, and her interior reaction to the contact momentarily became as powerful as the sea itself, imitating the pull and surge of its rhythmic responses to the moon and making her expression vulnerable.
Then her face closed as she finally registered what he had said, and she moved stiffly away out of his reach.
‘It’s nearly always safe to go in when there are dolphins around, because they’d warn me if there was any danger and do their best to help me if anything did go wrong,’ she said rather stiltedly, almost as if in excuse, before turning with a rueful smile to include the others in what she had to say.
‘They’re beautiful creatures, aren’t they? But, you know, I’ve never really been sure of the wisdom of encouraging them to come around us. They’re so curious and trusting, it makes them vulnerable. They want to be friends, but should we let them?’
It started a debate and the couples had dozens of questions as the dolphins continued to follow the boat for a while after she’d asked Basile to get it moving again. Lucia was glad, as it prevented her thinking too much about what had happened when Rob had helped her back on board—although she remained acutely conscious of him, especially as he was observing her so thoughtfully, a strange combination of knowledge and curiosity darkening his eyes.
Why couldn’t he wear dark glasses like her? Then she wouldn’t have to see his expression, and be disconcerted.
After a while the three couples fell silent over cold drinks, contentedly dreaming in the sun, only the honeymoon pair murmuring flirtatious secrets to each other at invervals, and after a word with Basile about where she wanted to dive Lucia sat down, dry now and wrapped in her pareo, sunglasses hiding her troubled eyes.
She stirred resentfully as Rob got up and came to sit beside her.
‘Can’t you at least put your shirt on?’ she muttered furiously, and the smile he gave dazzled with an infintely wicked charm.
‘Why, am I distracting you?’
‘Yes, damn it!’
He seemed to know so much about her that he had probably already known that too, so there was no point in denying it.
Oh, she knew what was wrong with her. Quite simply, she wanted him. That in itself wasn’t so bad. It was the intensity of the wanting that appalled her. She had never, ever desired Thierry to such an extent, and she had loved him! She still did, surely? It had only been Saturday when she had arrived, confidently expecting to marry him, and it was just Monday now.
And how could she desire Rob at all when she disliked him? She must be suffering from some surplus of energy now that she no longer had her degree to work towards.
‘Calm down; I’m not going to get into a public fight with you. Don’t look at me if it helps,’ Rob suggested easily, and changed the subject. ‘I notice you speak Comorean to Basile?’
‘I’m not really fluent. It’s a hybrid language.’ Lucia seized at the neutral topic with relief, although she realised it had been she who had introduced the personal note, referring to the absence of his shirt. ‘A mixture of Arabic, Swahili and other African languages, with quite a bit of French thrown in. Basile sort of personifies the history of the islands as he’s descended from both native islanders and French settlers.’
‘They’re an interesting people, all of them, and some of their customs are unusual.’
‘Yes, have you seen all the half-built houses scattered about the island? That’s one of my favourites,’ she offered, with a quick smile. ‘When a daughter is born her father starts building her a house, but because no one is exactly rich the building only proceeds at intervals—bits added here and there whenever Papa can afford it. But things are better now that hotels like yours are increasing the tourist trade.’
Rob was watching her intently, and she had the impression that he was taking mental notes as she spoke. It made her feel shy—inexplicably so, because she had never really suffered from shyness, her nature being essentially outgoing when she wasn’t afflicted by rage, resentment and wounded pride, or whatever was troubling her now.
He continued questioning her about the islands, their people and customs, and she answered knowledgeably, half of her glad to be distracted from what lay ahead. She was telling him about the special orchid that grew only on Grande Comore and nowhere else in the world when Basile caught her attention, asking a silent question by raising the black eyebrows that contrasted so beautifully with his exquisite pale-coffee skin.
Lucia looked back to the black volcanic rock on shore to get her bearings and nodded. The boat began to slow, her answers to Rob’s questions grew disjointed and she sighed silently, wishing herself ashore even if it meant scorching her feet on that baking black rock.
Tension held her face stiffly expressionless and she sat very still, trying to concentrate her will, gathering courage. Rob had fallen silent, and after a while she got up.
‘We’re getting to where we’re going to dive,’ she submitted a little breathlessly. ‘I must see if Basile wants to anchor properly.’
As well as Rob, the French pair and both men from Africa intended diving. Apart from Rob, only one had ever tried it before. She had explained the procedure and safety rules to them earlier, but she went over everything again after slithering into the brief warm-water wetsuit she preferred and donning transparent, state-of-the-art flippers.
‘Am I all right, please?’ she asked Rob, after checking the others’ oxygen herself. ‘All right, everyone, this should be one of the most fascinating experiences of your lives, but please remember everything I’ve told you. Keep me in sight at all times, obey my signals, and if you have any problems let me or Rob know by the sign I’ve shown you. It’s not that deep here, as this is the first dive for most of you, but there’s a drop nearby—a sort of underwater cliff—that I want you to keep away from because it’s for very experienced divers only.’
‘Have you been over it?’ the South African asked.
‘Yes.’ Lucia controlled a shudder of remembered revulsion. ‘A number of times.’
‘You’re fine,’ Rob told her as she turned to look at him enquiringly, and she was unwillingly grateful to have him diving with her on her first descent after so long away.
She glanced enviously at the two women who were remaining on board, one so dark, the other correspondingly fair, and smiled.
‘Cover up if the sun gets too hot,’ she reminded them conscientiously, ‘and you know where the drinks are if you’re thirsty. Basile will look after you.’
She sat down on the edge of the boat, back to the ocean, face set and eyes remote as she sank deep into herself, searching for the determination that had got her through this so many times before.
Then she became aware of Rob observing her with narrowed eyes, so she smiled insouciantly, adjusted her goggles and let herself fall into the water.
CHAPTER SIX
LUCIA pointed out a moray eel to her companions and then indicated that it was time to begin their ascent out of this miraculous underwater garden so lavishly adorned with brilliant colours and strange shapes.
It was such a richly beautiful world down here, but for her the silent loneliness had always nudged mercilessly at education and reason, probing dangerously into suppressed terrors. Even with companions she felt isolated, cut off from all she knew and loved, and thus desperately insecure.
She longed to be up in the sunlight again, preferably on dry land, and when Rob signalled that she should go up with the others and that he would come last she obeyed, despite her rebelling pride, telling herself firmly that no one would guess at the weakness that made her so grateful for the offer.
Once safely back on board, she made sure that everyone was all right and satisfied and helped them free of their equipment, stowing it neatly away. Then, when she had seen Rob join them, she stripped off her own gear and sat down on one of the boat’s low, bench-like seats, almost h
uddling, with her pareo wrapped right round her as if it were a blanket.
That she had survived once more was the simplest of her thankful reflections as she waited to feel warm again. With the ordeal safely behind her, she was aware, as always, of how irrational her loathing and fear were, and she tried not to think of all the other descents she would have to make with other holiday-makers in the days to come.
The others were happily discussing all that they had done, felt and seen, and Rob came over to where she sat a little apart from them.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked her expressionlessly.
‘Yes!’ She had forgotten to put her sunglasses on again and her blue-green eyes blazed with unguarded relief as she gave him the fervent answer.
‘Sure?’
A hard, sceptical note arrested her attention and she was surprised to detect a glint of anger in his eyes. Alerted, she resolutely encased herself in control, needing the armour, and gave him a defiant smile.
‘It was a good dive, they’re all pleased, so the day is a success. I hope you’re now satisfied that I can do the job?’
The anger didn’t go away. If anything, it became more pronounced, tightening his face and hardening the mouth which she was learning to view as a guide to what he was feeling.
‘Oh, yes, Lucia,’ Rob conceded harshly, ‘You’re very proficient, very professional. Congratulations.’
Then he turned away and left her alone.
She knew that she ought to be satisfied, but his manner perplexed her. Finally she gave a mental shrug. He was probably just annoyed at finding that he had no grounds for depriving her of the job that Chester had given her and subsequently somehow ensuring that she left the Comoros.
He continued to ignore her. The couple from the Ivory Coast had some connection with the tourist industry in their own country, and the conversation they got into with Rob kept the three of them going all through lunch and during the time that Lucia spent taking a couple of the party snorkelling in the shallower waters they had headed for.
Substitute Engagement Page 9