'Stephanie's engaged, you know?' he commented to Carina over dessert.
'Really?' Carina's pale eyes suddenly fixed on the sapphire engagement ring on Stephanie's finger. 'When's the wedding?'
Luke Baroda's confident words pushed their way into Stephanie's mind unbidden: 'You won't marry Sangster.' She shivered, despite the heat.
'The date ... the date isn't fixed yet,' she said, flushing under Carina's suddenly interested gaze.
'Is the reluctance on your part or on his?' Carina's mouth curved into a smile and Stephanie's colour rose higher.
'Neither....' As soon as she said it, she knew she was lying. She had been reluctant to name the wedding day. Dean had already recognised that reluctance and was becoming increasingly impatient. She couldn't explain it to him—it was just that something inside her was holding back. It was totally unreasonable, inexplicable, but strong enough for her to take notice of.
'Don't let Carina bully you,' Wayne cut in cheerfully. 'She's only jealous. The man she wants is displaying the kind of reluctance that not even Carina, with all her charm, can break. Isn't that so, darling?'
'Do be quiet, Wayne, and don't be so bloody childish.' Carina's voice was calmly controlled, yet her eyes glittered with sudden anger.
Wayne raised his eyebrows. 'You see?' he said triumphantly to Stephanie. 'Not even gracious in defeat!'
'Wayne . . .!' The warning was clear.
'Okay, okay, I know when I'm beaten.' He bent his head to his wine, his eyes still glinting with amusement, and Stephanie avoided looking at Carina, feeling an outsider to their strange games.
She was drooping with tiredness as they sat in the lounge again later, sipping brandy. The long journey was taking its toll.
Carina was talking on the telephone, her voice light, filled with warmth and laughter. Wayne was chatting to Stephanie, and she stared into the firelight, jumping as she heard him say,
'Don't you agree?'
'I'm sorry, Wayne, I'm afraid I wasn't listening. I'm falling asleep,' she explained apologetically. 'If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to bed.'
Carina was replacing the receiver as she spoke, and she cut in, 'I'll telephone Father's solicitors in the morning. I'm sure you're as anxious as I am to get this business sorted out.' Then you can go home, her eyes added silently.
Stephanie nodded. 'Yes, of course. You .. . you weren't very specific in your letter. Is there some trouble about the estate? Have you any idea how long it will take?'
'I think it better that the solicitors explain all the details,' said Carina, lighting a cigarette. 'I have no wish to drag it out, obviously I want it dealt with as soon as possible.'
She was not being particularly helpful, but there was nothing Stephanie could say. 'Yes . . . right. Goodnight.'
As she walked slowly up the stairs to her room, she could hear Wayne's voice, but could not catch the words. He was arguing with Carina.
She shrugged tiredly. They were a strange couple. She remembered what Wayne had said over dinner about the man Carina wanted. Was that just another of his jokes? No doubt she would find out sooner or later.
She washed and slid out of her clothes, having only enough energy to crawl into bed and switch out the light. I must ring Dean, she thought, as she drifted off into sleep.
The following morning, she still felt exhausted.
Carina was drinking coffee when she entered the dining room.
'You look dreadful,' her half-sister commented bluntly. 'Didn't you sleep well?'
'I didn't sleep enough,' Stephanie replied with a smile. 'Jet-lag.'
'Well, I'm driving up to London after breakfast, I have to see my agent. I'll call in on the solicitors while I'm there and arrange an appointment. Anything I can get you?'
She was not offering Stephanie a lift, and Stephanie was rather glad. She was in no mood for the noise and the bustle of the city. 'No, I don't think so, but thanks for offering.'
She sat down and poured herself some coffee. The weather was fine but windy, she could see the trees being pulled back and forth outside the windows.
Rose bustled in with a rack of fresh toast.
'Tell Rose what you'd like for breakfast,' said Carina, looking up from the letter she was reading.
'Toast and coffee will be fine.' Stephanie smiled at the housekeeper, who merely eyed her dourly, set down the toast, checked the coffee pot and silently left the room.
Carina watched her go with narrowed eyes. 'I don't know how that woman keeps her job,' she said irritably. 'Her rudeness is appalling!'
'Has she been here long?' Stephanie rather liked the look of Rose, despite her sternness.
'Years and years, unfortunately. She dotes on the men, of course, spoils them rotten.'
Men? Stephanie frowned, about to ask, but Carina was glancing at her watch and moving elegantly to her feet.
'I'm late. I should be back some time this afternoon.' She walked out of the room without looking back, and Stephanie poured herself more coffee, feeling suddenly miserable.
It was clear that Carina had no intention of spending her time with Stephanie. In fact, she gave the strong impression that Stephanie's visit was just an inconvenience that had to be endured.
Stephanie had hoped that they might become friends, at least spend some time together, getting to know each other. Carina was, after all, her closest relative, they should have had something in common.
Yet they knew absolutely nothing about each other, and Carina obviously didn't care.
What had she expected, anyway? That she and Carina would act like sisters, after ten years apart? She sighed at her own naivety and finished her coffee. Then, setting down her cup, she piled the breakfast dishes on to a tray and went in search of the kitchen.
Rose took the tray as soon as she opened the kitchen door. 'You shouldn't have bothered,' she muttered sourly.
Stephanie smiled. 'I don't mind. I'll give you a hand with the washing up if you like.'
'No need.' Rose indicated a dishwasher near the sink.
'Oh.' Stephanie turned to go. It seemed that Rose wasn't exactly friendly either.
'Gone off to London, has she? Left you to your own devices?' asked Rose, with a grim satisfaction in her voice, as though that was all one could expect.
'Carina?' Stephanie prevaricated. 'Yes, she's just left.'
'Plain as the nose on your face what that one's after!'
'Rose!'
The housekeeper's face split in a humourless grin. 'Shocked? You're her sister aren't you?' She paused for a moment, staring at Stephanie, then said, 'No, you're different. She'll never get him—you might, though.'
Convinced that Rose was totally mad, Stephanie turned and left the kitchen. She wandered through the house, unsure what to do with herself now that Carina was gone. It seemed that she was on her own until her half-sister returned.
Before she had flown over, she had had no idea that she would be left on her own. If she had imagined it all, she haa imagined an immediate meeting with the solicitors and time spent with Carina before flying back to the island and Dean.
She thought of Dean now, picturing his face, creased in that charming, carefree smile, the brightness of his hair, the vivid blue of his eyes, and inexplicably her eyes filled with tears. She dashed them away with angry fingers and ran upstairs to collect her coat.
She would go for a walk and get some fresh air, some fresh thoughts. The wind was sharp-and salty, yet behind it the sun was warm, as she strode along the cliffs. She stared down at the white-edged sea, crashing and breaking on the dark rocks, and let the cry of the gulls fill her mind, the harsh, salt-laden air fill her lungs.
Wayne found her hours later as she wandered back towards the house, feeling hungry. He smiled as they came face to face. 'Hi, I've been looking for you.'
'Carina's gone to London,' she told him.
'I know, she told me this morning. Been walking?'
Stephanie nodded. 'For miles. I found myself in a tiny little v
illage and had coffee in a minute tea-shop on the sea-front.' She flicked back her windblown hair, and making a sudden decision said, 'Wayne, I've got a bit of a problem, and I wondered if you could help me.'
'Fire away.' He turned to look at her, his eyes alive with interest.
'Well .. . it's rather awkward, but the thing is that Carina's letter came totally out of the blue. You see, after my parents were divorced, my mother and I left England and I've had no contact with Carina for the ten years since then. I don't even know what she does for a living, and I wondered ... well, I wondered if you could fill me in with a few details. I'd feel awfully embarrassed asking Carina.'
Wayne smiled and slid his arm around her shoulders. 'Okay, let's see. Carina's an actress, she also does some modelling jobs on the side to make money, because acting jobs aren't exactly thick on the ground. She lives in London, as you know. And when your father was taken ill, he came here to convalesce after leaving hospital. Carina came with him, and she's been here ever since—vested interests, you might say.'
Stephanie stared at him in surprise. 'You mean—the house doesn't belong to her? It's yours?'
Wayne shook his head. 'No, I only wish it was. It belongs to my cousin. Your father worked for him, they were close friends.'
It was a surprise. Somehow, Stephanie had automatically assumed that the house had belonged to her father, and now to Carina.
'I thought . . .' she shrugged expressively.
'Well, now you know.' Wayne smiled broadly, then guided her through the gardens towards the house.
'And you and Carina . . .?' She broke off, flushing. It was rather a personal question.
'Chance would be a fine thing. No, we're not living together, if that's what you think—in fact, there is absolutely nothing going on between us.'
'Oh.' Stephanie digested this in silence. The reality of the situation was far different from what she had imagined. 'You do live here, though?'
Wayne nodded.
'I didn't realise. . . .'
'Well, it won't be for long—it's a strictly temporary arrangement. I'll be moving out before Christmas.' He looked down at Stephanie's pleated brow and laughed. 'Now you're totally confused!'
'Yes!' she admitted.
'It's a good thing I put you in the picture, then.'
'It's pretty complicated,' she said, pulling a face at him. 'You must admit.'
Wayne shrugged. 'It all seems fairly simple to me. Too much time in the sun,' he tapped her head, his eyes teasing, 'it affects the brain.'
Stephanie laughed, then noticed that he was staring at a long silver grey car parked outside the front door.
'Visitors?' she queried.
He shook his head. 'Prepare to meet the object of Carina's unrequited affections.'
'What?'
She followed him into the house, laughing, then stopped dead in her tracks in the high hall, as she came face to face with Luke Baroda.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE felt a sick fear cramping her stomach as their eyes met. The object of Carina's unrequited affections, Wayne had said. Her mind couldn't cope with the enormity of the coincidence. Wayne was talking. 'Stephanie, let me introduce my cousin, Luke Baroda—Luke, Stephanie Maxwell.'
Cousin. The owner of the house. Wayne's boss. She stared into Luke Baroda's narrowed green eyes, speechless with shock.
'Miss Maxwell and I have already met,' he said coolly, his glance sliding over her tousled, windswept hair, the healthy glow in her cheeks. He was obviously not in the least surprised to see her.
Wayne's eyebrows-rose. 'You didn't tell me,' he accused her.
'I ... I didn't know. I didn't realise. . ..' she faltered, and dragged her eyes away from Luke Baroda's slight smile.
He could see how shocked she was. He was enjoying her discomfort, she thought bitterly. She hated him!
Wayne was staring at her expectantly, obviously waiting for some sort of explanation—explanation that she was totally incapable of providing. She couldn't even think straight, but she did know that everything suddenly fitted—all those stray remarks made by Carina, by Rose and Wayne, that had struck a chord of incongruity.
Paranoid thoughts were shooting round her brain. Perhaps it had all been planned. Luke Baroda was a powerful man, even more dangerous on his home ground. She looked at him and her stomach turned over. He was wearing a dark suit, expensive, beautifully cut. His black hair was neatly brushed. She saw his power, his wealth, his self-assurance, and felt threatened.
'You look as though you've seen a ghost.' Wayne was clearly intrigued as he took her arm. 'Let's find some coffee.' He turned to his cousin. 'Luke?'
'I have a couple of calls to make.'
Stephanie heard Luke's low voice with a shiver of awareness, knowing that he was watching her.
'Another successful trip?'
Luke nodded, his mouth curved in a hard smile.
Still in a state of shock, Stephanie allowed herself to be led into the lounge. She sat by the fire, her body numb, not even noticing Rose appearing with a tray piled high with coffee and sandwiches.
She was stunned by the realisation that without her knowing it, Luke Baroda was already intertwined in the fabric of her life. He was connected with her father, with Dean and Carina and Wayne. She was overawed by the fatefulness of it all.
And he knew that. His knowledge and wisdom scared the living daylights out of her. She felt as though she was in a long dark tunnel. Luke Baroda could provide the light if she dared to ask for it. She didn't dare.
'Well, you are a dark horse!' Wayne handed her a cup of steaming aromatic coffee. 'When did you meet him?'
For a moment, in her confusion, he seemed unnaturally curious. 'Does it matter?' she asked rather sharply.
'Not if you don't want to tell me.'
His tone was offended, and she was immediately contrite.
'I'm sorry, Wayne, it was a bit of a shock, that's all.' What an understatement! she thought hysterically. 'I had no idea he was your cousin. I met him at home, he was playing the tables at the casino . . .'
She tried to make her voice sound casual, normal, but didn't succeed very well.
Fortunately, Wayne didn't ask any more questions, and they sat in fairly companionable silence until the door opened and Stephanie knew without turning round that Luke had just entered the room.
He moved silently, and she almost jumped out of her skin as he came into her line of vision, coiling his powerful body into a chair opposite hers.
He and Wayne were talking, but Stephanie didn't hear a word. Her fingers were clenched tightly round her coffee cup and she kept her head down, intimidated by his presence.
He must have known, she thought angrily. He must have known the moment we met who I vas. He had been playing games with her!
She got to her feet, her body stiff with a flaring outrage that she knew she would not be able to control if she stayed. Luke was watching her intently and she felt the colour pouring into her cheeks.
'Excuse me.. ..' She fled the room, her anger burning in her downturned face. Luke's narrowed eyes followed her to the door.
She paused in the hall, restless and furious, not knowing what to do. She would ringvDean, there was a telephone in the dining room. She needed some reassurance. As she moved towards the door, she heard Luke laughing, deep amused laughter that raised the hair on the back of her neck. She shut herself in the dining room with a bang, took a cigarette from a box on the table and lit it with ridiculously shaking hands. She knew a desperate urge to get out of
the house, out of England.
Stephanie dialled the casino, and Camil answered from Dean's office. 'The boss is on the other phone,' he told her, a smile in his faintly-accented voice.
'How are you?' she asked in bright friendly tones.
Camil was an islander of French ancestry. He was Dean's right-hand man. Stephanie liked him, had known him for years, and they chatted until Dean came on the line.
'How's it going, honey?
' His light, familiar voice somehow reassured her.
'Slowly,' she answered with a sigh. 'Carina hasn't arranged the meeting with the solicitors yet.'
'You sound pretty low—what's the matter?'
'I miss you,' she admitted softly. 'I want to come home.'
'It won't take long, honey, you'll be back before you know it.' He sounded very far away, placating her as though she was a whining child, a slight preoccupation in his voice.
'I know, and I'm sorry for moaning so much.' She paused, then said quietly, 'Luke Baroda's here.'
Dean's attention snapped on to her. She could almost hear him sitting up and taking notice. 'What?'
'Luke Baroda. He's a friend of Carina's. This house belongs to him,' she explained dully. 'Dean, I....'
She didn't get the chance to finish.
'Hell, that's incredible!' He sounded very pleased, excited.
'Yes, isn't it. Dean... .'
'You're actually staying in the same house?'
'Yes.' She wanted to talk seriously.
'Stephanie, honey, do me a favour—be nice to him, huh?'
'But I don't like him,' she protested, shocked by the very suggestion.
Dean's voice was sharp with irritation. 'What does that matter? I'm not asking you to sleep with him— just be nice, be friendly. I hear that Luke Baroda is not immune to a pretty face.'
'Dean!' She could hardly believe her ears. What he was suggesting was not only distasteful, but verging on the immoral. 'I couldn't, I just couldn'tV she said fiercely.
'Stephanie, listen to me, baby.' The voice on the other end of the line was soft now, and persuasive. 'Luke Baroda could do me—and you—a lot of good. He's bought a hotel on the other side of the island and I want a casino in that hotel. Don't you see? If I could get even a toe-hold in Baroda's organisation, we would be set up for life. I'm not asking you to do this purely for me, it's for both of us.'
She listened to his rapid words with a sinking heart. It was against her nature to pretend a liking for somebody she positively hated. Luke Baroda was not a man easily fooled. He was clever, astute and perceptive. She had the uneasy feeling that he could probably read her mind—she wouldn't be able to hide anything from him; she was sure of that.
Illusion of Love Page 4