by Miranda Lee
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘DO YOU realise, Megan,’ James said as he bobbed up and down in the sea, ‘that not once, during the past week, has my office rung me.’
‘Absolutely shocking,’ she replied with a straight face. ‘However have they been able to cope without you?’
‘You mock me, madam, at your peril.’
Megan laughed. How happy she felt. Well…fairly happy.
A week ago, any measure of happiness had seemed impossible. But a week on Dream Island was a long time, especially when you spent all day every day together. She’d come to know James better during that short time than during the whole of their marriage; come to accept that, whilst he might not love her the way Hugh loved his new bride, he did care about her. Their new intimacy—and she wasn’t just talking about sex—went a long way to giving her some hope that their marriage was worth saving.
He hadn’t confided any more about his wretched upbringing, but he had talked to her quite a bit about his work. She’d discovered that James had more of a creative mind than she’d previously thought. Megan had always believed that her pragmatic husband’s successes had come from his business acumen. She’d gained the impression from his friends that he was the master of delegation. She knew now that he was actually a very hands-on person when it came to the ad campaigns that Images was famous for.
Which was perhaps why he was peeved that they hadn’t contacted him over the past week. He obviously believed that Images could not survive without his presence, or at least his input, especially in reference to the casting agency he’d started up recently.
‘You could always call them,’ she told him.
‘Humph!’ He snorted. ‘And when, pray tell, have I had the time to do anything around here except keep my wife satisfied?’
‘You only have yourself to blame. You insisted on broadening my sexual horizons.’
‘I’ve created a monster.’
‘I didn’t notice you not enjoying yourself this afternoon.’
Megan’s heartbeat quickened at the memory of what she’d done to him. She might not have had any previous experience at performing oral sex—and she’d been much more nervous than she’d pretended to be—but once she saw the pleasure she was giving him, then everything had gone swimmingly.
His dark eyes glittered at her. ‘For someone who’s never done that before, you were amazingly good at it.’
She almost said she’d concentrated on her love for him, but didn’t. That was one thing she hadn’t been able to do on this getaway. Tell James that she loved him. Perhaps it was because she didn’t want him saying it back to her. She could live with a husband who desired her. Which she now believed he did. But not one who lied to her.
Strangely, he hadn’t said he loved her either, for which she was grateful. Megan wondered how she would react if and when he did say it to her again. She supposed she would just have to wait and see. Just as she would have to wait and see before she did anything impulsive like throw away her pills.
Having a baby could wait.
Which reminded her…
‘What time is it?’ she asked James.
‘Around five-thirty.’
They’d taken to swimming in the sea late in the afternoon, the water lovely by then. Afterwards, they’d get dressed and drive into the resort for dinner. Last night they’d lingered a long time over a five-course meal in the hotel’s main à la carte restaurant, James claiming he needed time and lots of food to restore his energy. They’d possibly drunk a little too much wine as well, because they’d both fallen asleep quite quickly after making love only the once on their return to the villa.
Today had been a different story. James had been ravenous for her all day, waking her early in the morning for the first of many lovemaking sessions. The only time he’d left her alone was mid-morning, when Housekeeping had come to clean the villa. And now, during their leisurely afternoon swim.
‘We’ll have to get out soon,’ Megan said, thinking she didn’t want to be late taking her pill.
‘Good idea. I think I’m getting a headache. I’ve either had too much sun…or too much of something else,’ he added with a rueful smile.
‘Poor darling.’
‘I’m a glutton for punishment,’ he said with an air of mock-suffering. ‘Look, I’ll get out first. That way I won’t be tempted on the walk back by the sight of you in that sexy red bikini.’
Megan loved the way he complimented her all the time. He made her feel really beautiful and extremely desirable.
‘Do you have something you can take?’ she asked, not wanting his headache to continue.
‘There’s sure to be some painkillers in the bathroom. It has everything else that opens and shuts.’
He was already heading for the shallows, the water level quickly dropping to his waist, then lower.
Megan stared at his naked backside, which was now sporting a mild tan. James never wore swimming trunks, almost becoming that nudist he’d suggested on their first day. He had a great body, she thought for the umpteenth time. A great everything, front and back.
‘I hope you don’t go using that headache as an excuse,’ she called out to him as he strode up the palm-lined path which led back to the villa.
His head turned to throw a wry smile over his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll soldier on.’
Megan laughed, then began hauling herself out of the water as well. When she reached the villa, she jumped in the pool to wash the salt and sand off her body. And it was while she was stroking lazily up and down that James walked back out onto the deck, his nakedness now covered by one of the white bathrobes, his hands sunk deep in the pockets.
‘Did you find some tablets?’ she asked.
‘I did indeed,’ he replied in an oddly cold voice. ‘But they weren’t painkillers. Would you care to explain these?’ he said, and pulled his right hand out of the pocket, stretching out his fingers to reveal her month’s supply of the Pill.
Guilt was written all over her face, James saw immediately, making him feel even sicker than he had when he’d come across them.
There hadn’t been any painkillers in the vanity-unit drawers, or on the shelves behind the mirror, his searching all through Megan’s toilet bag a desperate last resort. He hadn’t had a migraine for years, but the jagged circles dancing in front of his eyes indicated that he was about to suffer a bad one.
Finding that packet of pills had sent his head spinning further. He tried to stay calm, but he could feel a blind rage rising up within him, blood pounding in his temples like a kettledrum.
‘You had no intention of trying for another baby, did you?’ he bit out.
‘Well, I…I…’
‘Did you?’ he roared at her.
He watched as her face went a bright red.
All day today, every time he made love to her, he’d been thinking about her conceiving a child. Their child. Up till now it had been an unlikely consequence, and in truth, over the past week, his original mission behind bringing Megan on a second honeymoon had not been a priority. He’d been totally blown away by his new sexy wife. But it had always been there, in the background. It was, after all, what he wanted more than anything.
Her deliberately stopping conception from happening brought back some very bad memories, along with a welter of infuriating emotions. He’d thought she was different from Jackie. But she wasn’t. She was just as selfish. And just as cruel. She knew he wanted a child. Knew he’d been hoping that it would happen on this holiday. Yet she’d deliberately made that impossible. She’d said the other night that she would never lie to him. But she had. The worst possible lie, in his eyes.
‘James, please,’ she said, still looking horribly guilty. ‘Let me explain.’
‘Too late,’ he snapped. ‘There’s nothing you can say that will excuse what you’ve done. You lied to me, Megan. And you deceived me. I can’t stand lies and deception.’ With that, he whirled and stormed back down the path to the beach, where h
e was in the process of ripping the packet of pills to pieces and throwing the shreds into the sea when a dripping wet Megan materialised next to him, no longer looking at all guilty, or chastened.
‘You can’t stand lies and deception!’ she threw at him, her hands firmly planted on her hips. ‘That’s rich coming from you, James Logan. You’ve lied to me and deceived me from the first moment we met!’
James just stared at her.
‘You never loved me,’ she spat. ‘You wanted a child and I was the fool who was going to give it to you. You made me believe that you really loved me. But you never did. Not for a single moment.’
‘Who told you that?’ he demanded to know.
‘No one told me. I overheard Hugh and Russell talking when I was in the hospital. They thought I was asleep. Trust me when I say they gave me a very full picture of why you’d married me.’
James groaned, his pounding head making it hard for him to think clearly. Dismay was his first reaction, but his second was confusion. ‘If that’s the case, then why didn’t you leave me right then and there?’
‘Now, isn’t that just the sort of thing my wonderfully sensitive husband would say?’ Megan’s expression was one of utter disgust. ‘Has it occurred to you that, at the time, I was so devastated that I was incapable of taking any action at all? I wanted to leave you. Trust me on that. But I just didn’t have the courage. After I went to Hugh’s wedding, however, leaving you was very much on my mind. Because I saw what true love looked like, and I didn’t want to settle for anything less. I was about to ask you for a divorce in the car on the way home afterwards when you kissed me and…well…the moment sort of passed. Then, the next morning, when you kissed me again and suggested this second honeymoon, I thought…well, I thought…’
‘You thought what?’ he snapped. ‘That you’d have your revenge first?’
He waited for her to deny it. But she didn’t deny it. She didn’t say a single word. Just stared at him with those big brown eyes of hers.
James did what he always did when he was hurt. He came out fighting.
‘I get the picture,’ he snarled. ‘You wanted to use me like you thought I’d used you. Maybe even get me to fall in love with you. Oh, yes, I dare say that was part of your vengeful little agenda. I have to give you credit, Megan, you pulled out all the stops. The sexy new image. The willingness to try new things. So tell me, darling, when you went down on me yesterday, and I begged you not to stop, did that give you a thrill? I’ll just bet it did!’
It pained James to think that her making love to him that way had not come from her love for him, but from hate. It pained him more than anything he could recall. Not even finding out the truth about Jackie had hurt this much.
But he refused to let her see his distress. Refused to let her go without defending himself.
‘You’re wrong to think that I married you just for a child,’ he slammed back at her. ‘OK, so I didn’t love you. I admit it. I lied about that. At the time, I felt incapable of loving any woman. But I liked you very much and wanted to make a family with you. A family and a life. A good life, full of caring and commitment. From the moment I met you I haven’t even looked at another woman, not even when you wouldn’t give me sex for three months. I never meant to hurt you. But you, Megan,’ he pointed out with true bitterness in his voice and in his face, ‘you meant to hurt me when you agreed to come away with me on this second honeymoon. You meant to hurt and to destroy. But let me tell you this, my girl: it will take more than this to destroy me. Much more. Now, go and pack your things and get the hell out of my life before I do something I will regret.’
Megan opened her mouth to say something. Anything.
But the look on James’s face stopped her in her tracks. He might not have ever loved her, but he hated her now. She could see it in his eyes. There would be no point in defending herself, or apologising, or trying to explain further why she’d done what she’d done. No point at all.
It was over. Their marriage was finally over.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ he snapped. ‘I’m sure you can find a room in the main hotel. Then you can take the morning helicopter back to the mainland. There are several flights from Cairns to Sydney every day. I’m sure you’ll get a seat on one of them. The key to the beach buggy is on the coffee table. Any fool can drive it. So take the bloody thing and just go!’
Still she could not move. Inside, she was beginning to shake.
‘James, I…I…’
‘No!’ he roared. ‘I don’t want to hear what you have to say. And I don’t want to see your sorry face ever again. Or any other part of you. So make sure you’re out of the house by the time I get home. My lawyer will be in touch,’ he finished, and with one final savage glare he whirled and stalked off into the sea.
Megan wanted to run after him, beg him to listen. But again, she knew to do so would be futile. Not only did he hate her, but he thought she hated him too. His twisted logic that she’d come here for revenge made a sick kind of sense. In a way, she wished she had. Wished she did hate him.
Megan turned and somehow made her way back to the villa. It didn’t take her long to dress and pack, though her hands shook all the time. The thought of driving that buggy and arriving alone at the resort hotel horrified her. What would they think?
By the time she did just that, however, Megan was too depressed and despairing to care what they thought. She was shown to a room on the second highest floor, its décor not even registering before she threw herself, face down, on the quilt, and cried herself to sleep.
A loud and continuous noise woke her in the middle of the night. At first, she thought it was rain beating down. But, when she struggled off the bed and went over to where sliding glass doors led out onto a balcony, Megan discovered that it was wind. A strong, howling wind which was actually rocking the building.
A nervous phone call to Reception brought reassurance that there was no need for alarm, the hotel was rock-solid and built to withstand this kind of gale, which was not uncommon in the autumn months and would probably blow itself out in a day or two.
Till then, however, the helicopters would be grounded and guests could neither leave nor come to the island.
Megan felt sick at this news. She was quite desperate to get away as soon as possible so that she could get a prescription of the morning-after pill.
But then she had a second thought. ‘You must have a doctor on the island,’ she asked Reception.
‘We do. But Dr Wilkinson had to go to the mainland yesterday to attend a wedding. He’s due back first thing in the morning, but, with the wind and all, he might not make it. Are you ill, madam? Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘No, no, I’m not ill. It can wait, I suppose.’
Now that she thought about it, she recalled her doctor saying she had seventy-two hours to take the morning-after pill. She’d been in a right panic at the time, frightened that she might weaken and let James make love to her. That was why she had decided in the end to go on the Pill. She didn’t like the idea of the morning-after pill, but she liked the idea of falling pregnant to James—especially now—even less.
‘Oh, God,’ she said aloud as her head whirled.
‘Can I get you something, madam?’ the man on the line enquired kindly. ‘A hot drink perhaps. Or a brandy.’
‘A brandy would be lovely,’ she agreed, and five minutes later she was sitting in an armchair by the wind-lashed window, sipping brandy and thinking that she only had herself to blame really. It had been wrong of her to let James think a baby was possible. She should have been honest with him about not being ready yet for a child.
But that was as far as her honesty could have taken her. If she’d told him she knew he didn’t love her, then their marriage would have been over anyway. For how could their relationship survive after that? It was a matter of losing respect. Him for her, and her for him.
But James was wrong about her trying to hurt him.
She wasn’t. She loved him. Perversely, her love for him was stronger now than ever.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she recalled his obvious sincerity when he’d said he’d wanted to make a good life with her, full of caring and commitment. Well, any chance of that good life was gone now.
Another horrible thought slid into her mind. When she finally got off this island, she would have to go home to her parents, she supposed. Where else could she go? She didn’t have any friends. None who hadn’t been James’s friends first. She didn’t have a job, or any money of her own, her allowance having been stopped when she married James.
The prospect of facing her mother was infinitely depressing. Not quite what she needed at that moment.
It took her quite some time to fall asleep again, but when she woke to the morning light the wind had thankfully stopped. By ten, Megan was on a helicopter flight to Cairns. Shortly before three that afternoon, she was landing at Mascot Airport in Sydney. It was cold and raining, the wretched weather matching her mood. The taxi driver didn’t speak to her during the thankfully short drive to Bellevue Hill, for which she was grateful.
The sight of the beautiful home she’d lived in with James brought fresh grief. And fresh worries. Would he have already rung Roberta, and told her what had happened? Would she be greeted by a hostile housekeeper?
She hoped not. She could not bear much more.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROBERTA answered the doorbell with shock on her face. Clearly James hadn’t informed his housekeeper of what had happened, which was a relief.
‘I thought you weren’t due home till Tuesday,’ Roberta said, looking and sounding puzzled. ‘Where’s the boss?’
Megan steeled herself for the woman’s reaction.
‘He’s not with me. We’ve broken up, Roberta. I’ve come home by myself to pack and move out.’
The housekeeper looked even more shocked. ‘But I thought…I mean…Oh, Megan, that’s a real shame.’