'Dean, I don't think it would work—I don't like him,' she said urgently, trying to make him see how she hated the idea.
'Whether or not you like him is irrelevant. Listen, how long do you expect this legal business to take?'
'I've no idea—why?'
'Can't you take a guess?' His voice told her that his brain was ticking away, calculating, formulating plans.
'A week or two, perhaps, but I really can't say. Why?' she asked again.
'I'm thinking of flying over. I miss you.' Dean laughed. 'Do you think Carina would swallow that? It's perfectly natural for me to want to be with my fiancee, after all.'
As he spoke, Stephanie felt a dull depression settling over her. Was this all he could think about— business? She had asked him to come with her and he had refused. Now, only because Luke Baroda was here, he would come. She felt a rush of hot tears filling her eyes.
'Do you really want to see me?' she asked sadly.
Dean groaned. 'Don't be silly, honey, of course I do. I love you.'
She clung to the words desperately. She was being unfair. She couldn't blame him for being ambitious, it was an inherent part of his character—she knew that. She also knew that he meant no harm to her.
'When will you come?' she asked shakily.
'As soon as I can. Tell Carina.'
They chatted for a few moments longer, Dean making a big effort to reassure her, perhaps sensing that he had shocked her. But it made no particular difference. She still felt miserable as she hung up. She had felt so alone before telephoning him, lonely and uncared for in this house of strangers. Dean had been unable to comfort her.
Their relationship had never been tested before, she realised. Life on Moahu was so easy, so problem-free. There had never been any serious disagreements between them. The nearest they had come to arguing had been over the wedding date. In every other instance Stephanie had given in to Dean, sure that, despite her own misgivings, he was right. She had grown up with him, he had been almost like an older brother, revered, respected. He had always known better because he was older and wiser and stronger. She supposed her life had been carefully sheltered; Dean was the only man she had ever known. His charm had carried her away.
But now she was growing up, an adult instead of an indulged child, doubts were constantly creeping into her mind, and this business over Luke Baroda created the biggest doubt of all. How could Dean suggest she be nice to him?
She wandered around the dining room, smoking another cigarette and trying to think rationally. Would she have been so appalled by the idea if Luke Baroda had been short and bald and sixty? Somehow she doubted it. It was the man himself who produced her shock. She had no idea how Luke Baroda would react if she started being 'nice' to him. He had said he wanted her. She shivered involuntarily, unwilling to even think about that, and stubbing out her cigarette, wandered into the hall.
I must remember to pay Carina for the phone call, she thought, staring up at the patterned ceiling.
She had nothing to do until dinner. She was at a completely loose end, a situation that Carina had forced upon her.
She heard Luke and Wayne talking through the lounge door, and stepped away, jumping as the door opened, shooting out of the front door into the garden, without looking back. As she walked towards the sea again, she decided that tomorrow, she would put her time to good use. She had not expected to be left on her own by the one person she knew in England, but if Carina wanted it that way, Stephanie would fend for herself.
Her chin lifted determinedly as she climbed down a steep rocky path towards the tiny bay. The weather was cold now, the wind still high. She listened to the gulls and walked to the water's edge, watching a tiny crab scuttling across the wet sand.
It was beautiful here, she thought, almost happily, her good spirits returning. There was a wildness, a stormy darkness that Moahu lacked. There, the ocean was calm and crystal clear, everything was bright and vivid and hot. She stared out towards the overcast horizon, where the dull blue sky met the grey sea. It was empty.
The wind lifted her golden hair, whipping it around her head. She stood at the foaming edge of the sea, letting the cold salt water wet her ankles, and her loneliness suddenly made her feel happy. It was good for her, it would teach her about herself.
She wanted to paint this scene, this tiny unfriendly bay. Tomorrow she would go to the nearest town and buy some paints, some paper.
She turned back towards the cliffs and saw Luke Baroda standing only feet away, watching her. Strangely, she was not surprised. He had to be here. His suit was gone. He wore jeans, old and faded, that clung to his lean hips and strong legs, and a black sweater that lent a saturnine darkness to his hard face. He was smoking, the smoke drifting from his nostrils and lips, whipped away by the dancing wind.
She could read no expression in his face or his narrowed eyes as they stared at each other, but she felt that she was at his mercy on this deserted beach. Ridiculous, she told herself sternly. But the silence between them seemed to build up into a tension that she had to break.
'Did you follow me?' she asked in a small voice.
He moved closer with smooth cat-like grace, as though her words were an invitation. He towered over her, well over six foot tall, his narrowed gaze sliding with slow insolence over her face, her body.
'Yes,' he admitted casually, 'I followed you.'
Stephanie licked her suddenly dry lips, her eyes veering away from his, resting on the hard, sensual line of his mouth. His direct honesty floored her.
'Why?' she demanded huskily.
Luke smiled. Their eyes met again and her heart turned over violently.
'It can be dangerous along here. I saw you leaving the house.'
'I can look after myself,' she muttered, fighting the overpowering pull of his charm, his magnetism.
His dark brows rose, clearly cynical. 'Can you? You're wandering around like a lost child!'
Stephanie bit her lip absently. She knew that all too well, but she wasn't about to admit it to him. 'Carina . ..' she began.
'Carina doesn't give a damn,' he cut in, cruel and brutally direct. 'She doesn't even want you here, you know that.'
'Why are you so cruel?' Her voice was shaky, her eyes suddenly brilliant with unshed tears.
Luke frowned. He had not realised that she was so very vulnerable. He stared down at the soft, lonely lines of her face. 'I'm sorry,' his voice was low and quiet, 'I didn't mean to hurt you.'
'You couldn't hurt me,' she retorted, hating him because he could see how defenceless she was against Carina's coldness.
'I'm glad to hear it.' A slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. 'Walk with me?'
There was an order behind the deep question, but Stephanie found herself automatically obeying, falling into step beside him. He matched his pace with hers and she stared across the water, as they walked the windswept sand, never looking at him but fiercely aware of his presence.
'How do you like England? Wayne tells me you were only a child when you left.'
He was being polite. It was an ordinary friendly question but defensive distrust flared inside her.
'I like it,' she replied shortly, then thought of Dean, and added, 'This coastline is beautiful, so different from home—wild and stormy. . ..' She broke off, averting her face. Luke wouldn't want to know.
'You wouldn't like to live here, though?' Again there was an impersonal coolness in the question.
Stephanie shrugged, glancing at the hard lines of his profile. 'I don't know—the question won't really arise.' She felt the need to remind him, and perhaps herself, of Dean. 'When we get married, we'll stay where Dean's work is.'
Luke nodded, his expression unreadable. 'Still no date fixed?'
'No.' She stopped walking, pretending interest in a tiny rock pool, staring into its sandy depth, her mouth a fierce straight line.
'You don't seem in any mad hurry,' he remarked, watching her.
Her angry eyes met the v
eiled depths of his for a second, before veering away again. 'Is there any reason why we should be?' she demanded defensively.
His slow smile gave her an answer that brought the colour pouring into her cheeks. She remembered his promise the night he had driven her back from the casino and knew that he was remembering it too. 'It's none of your business, anyway,' she said angrily, and walked away.
Luke caught her arm before she had taken two paces, moving quickly and silently. She looked at his tanned hand, fingers curling round her arm.
'You do have a bad temper,' he commented with a mild smile.
'Because I object to your personal questions?' Stephanie retorted.
'If you were sure, they wouldn't upset you,' he replied coolly.
'I am sure,' she said through clenched teeth, and
knew again that she was lying.
'If you say so.' He didn't believe a word.
'I do.'
She moved her arm and his restraining hand dropped. As she walked on, not looking at him, her thoughts were in chaos. She didn't need him to reinforce her own doubts. Yet he seemed to take a personal pleasure in doing so, had done so right from the moment of their meeting.
'You knew who I was when we first met,' she suddenly accused him. 'Didn't you?'
'Before we met,' he acknowledge softly.
'Before? But how . . .? I'd never heard of you!'
'Your father showed me a photograph,' he explained briefly.
Stephanie stared at him in amazement. She had not seen her father for ten years. How could he have had photographs of her? Luke surely wouldn't have recognised her as a child.
'A recent photograph?'
'Taken last year, I believe.' All the time he was speaking, he was staring at her with a cool, probing intensity, his expression blank, his eyes veiled.
She couldn't really understand what he was saying. 'How could he have got hold of a photograph?' she wondered, half to herself.
Luke shrugged his powerful shoulders. If he knew, he clearly had no intenton of telling her.
'It was a coincidence, wasn't it, us meeting at the casino?' She felt very unsure of herself. There was something strange about this whole business. She got the impression that he was testing her.
'What do you think?'
'I think it was—you were on business.'
'Yes,' he agreed expressionlessly.
'You didn't say anything, though.
'You weren't exactly ready to listen to anything I had to say,' he reminded her with amusement.
'It is amazing, you must admit,' she said thoughtfully, convinced that there was more to it than he was telling.
'Paranoia, my child?' He was laughing at her. Stephanie ignored him.
'Carina said my father worked for you,' she said, turning to him, tilting back her golden head to look unguardedly into his face. Her heart began to race at something indefinable in his eyes.
He nodded. 'Yes. What do you want to know?'
She shrugged. 'I don't know. Everything—nothing. I didn't know him at all, you see. I wrote, but,...' she bit her lip, her face vulnerable, unsure.
Luke stared down at her, then reached out his hand, gently touching her cheek.
She felt the light touch of his finger as though it was flame, but was held perfectly still, caught by the sheer force of his attraction. 'Your father was basically a good man,' he told her quietly. 'He cared for you, he always held you dear, thought of you right up until the time he died.'
'Did he?' Her eyes were bright with a painful happiness.
'Yes. He was proud and as stubborn as the devil himself, but he loved you—believe that, and remember it.' He smiled then, a smile that lit the heavy green depths of his eyes, that etched deep lines in his tanned skin, a smile that caught Stephanie's breath with its potent charm.
And she smiled back involuntarily—the first time she had ever smiled at him. And in that instant, something started to grow between them, something fragile and inexplicable, but so powerful that she could feel it in every fibre of her body. She looked at him and saw a gentleness in his eyes that made her heart lurch. She trusted him—trusted him, yet still feared him for his strength, his power.
'I will remember, and—thank you.' She tore her eyes away from his, walking on legs that were strangely weak.
'The pleasure is all mine.' There was a mocking amusement in his voice.
Flustered, Stephanie bowed her head, acknowledging the danger of him, her heart beating too heavily.
They walked on in silence, though she could still feel the probe of his eyes on her downturned head. Then suddenly, he said very coolly, 'I thought Sangster would be with you.'
She flushed, and Luke did not miss the hurt in her eyes, the vulnerable sadness of her mouth.
'It's a very busy time,' she said stiffly. Luke's dark brows rose, but he said nothing. 'I spoke to him on the telephone today,' she added, and realised that she shouldn't have told him.
'Don't tell me—he'lPbe flying over as soon as he can,' said Luke, in a hard taunting voice.
'How did you .. .?' She bit her lip, aware that she had fallen into his trap.
His mouth twisted cynically. 'It wasn't difficult to guess.'
'You think you know everything, don't you?' she flung at him, angry now, because somehow he could see through Dean's every move.
'I keep my eyes open,' he agreed, pinning her with his cool gaze. 'Which is more than can be said for you.'
'And what is that supposed to mean?' she demanded icily, her doubts crowding in on her as she turned on him, her blue eyes brilliant with rage.
'You know damn well what it means!' Luke bit out coldly. 'You're not stupid, Stephanie, you know what sort of a man Sangster is, yet you choose to keep your eyes firmly shut, wandering around like a dreaming adolescent. Well, that's fine—but you can't expect everybody else to do the same.'
'I don't know what you're talking about,' she snapped back, honestly confused.
Luke's eyes narrowed, as hard as ice beneath their heavy lids.
'Shall I tell you what his instructions were?' he taunted cynically. Stephanie glared at him in silence, and he continued, 'He'll have told you to soften me up, to use your charm on me until he arrives.' He saw her shocked astonishment and laughed humourlessly. 'So come on, my love, show me how charming you can be.' There was a liquid softness in his voice that dried her mouth and made her throat ache with tension. She couldn't find her voice. Luke took hold of her left hand, staring at the sapphire ring, the emblem of Dean's possession.
'How far will you go, I wonder, to keep your fiance happy?'
Stephanie wrenched her hand out of his, as though he was burning her. 'Go to hell!' she muttered, in a voice that shook violently. 'Just leave me alone!'
She walked quickly away from him, her body stiff with outrage, her mind exploding with anger. How dared he? How dared he?
'I'm not asking you to sleep with him,' Dean had said. God, it was almost funny!
She reached the narrow cliff path, tripping in her haste to get away from him, but he was right behind her.
'Go away!' she hissed over her shoulder, as she tried to struggle to her feet.
His hand closed urgently on her arm, pulling her up, whirling her round to face him. His mouth was a hard, angry line, his eyes glittering dangerously.
'You crazy little fool!' he snapped harshly, his fingers bruising her skin through the clothes she wore. 'Calm down, for God's sake!'
'Calm down?' Stephanie repeated incredulously. 'Calm down? It may interest you to know, Mr Baroda, that I wouldn't try to charm you if you were the last man on earth! Dean might be a swine for suggesting it, but you . . . you're even more of a swine for trying to take advantage of the fact that he did!' She paused for breath, then added furiously, 'I don't want you, I don't even like you. I hate you!'
There was a moment of explosive silence as they stared into each other's eyes, then Luke reached for her and dragged her against the lean strength of his body, one h
and sliding up the length of her spine, to tangle in her silken hair and bring back her head.
His own head seemed to lower in slow motion, his mouth brushing hers unhurriedly, over and over, until he groaned deep in his throat, his lips parting hers, and began kissing her with a hungry demand that made her legs give way beneath her.
She would have fallen had he not been holding her so tightly. She was too shocked to struggle or fight him. She felt the touch of his mouth almost with wonder, and without her wanting it, she felt a deep response triggering inside her, as an urgent primaeval passion flared between them. Of their own volition, her arms crept around his neck, her fingers tangling in the vital blackness of his hair.
She could not help her response—her lips moved innocently under the fierce pressure of Luke's, the kiss still deepening, blocking out everything else until she knew only the heated pleasure of his mouth, and the hot excitement inside herself.
After endless moments, Luke reluctantly raised his head and stared down at her flushed face and swollen lips, through eyes glittering with desire.
'Stephanie. ...' He said her name quietly, the word stolen by the wind.
She stared back into the hard planes of his face, trembling, her thoughts in turmoil, lifting her hand up and touching the bruised softness of her lips. She had never before been kissed like that. She was dazed by the unbidden violence of her own response.
Sensing her dazed state, Luke took her hand without a word, and together they climbed the rocky path back to the house. Stephanie's mind was completely blank. She felt the immense strength in the hand that engulfed hers. She was desperately aware of him beside her, moving with sure easy grace. He knew what he was doing.
And as the spell of that kiss began to fade, her eyes filled with tears. She felt raw, defenceless and very guilty. She thought of Dean and of what she had just done, and pulling her hand out of Luke's, ran away towards the house, not stopping until she was in her room, leaning weakly on the closed door.
Something had happened down by the sea, something she did not yet have the courage to face. But she did know one thing for certain: Luke Baroda had the power to destroy her.
Illusion of Love Page 5