Destination Romance

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Destination Romance Page 46

by Barbara McMahon


  She shook her head against his questions, her distress growing. Why did he do this to her? 'Stop it, Dominic!'

  'How far are you planning to go, hoping for marriage? Shall I tell the good Evan about you tonight, at dinner? Tell him about your past, about your indiscretions and . . .' his hoarse voice droned into her ear, the accusing words hammering at her brain. Her eyes filled with tears. She would not stand for this. She wouldn't let him keep on!

  'Shut up, I don't want to hear. Shut up!' She put her hands over her ears, turning her back on him.

  Ruthlessly he pulled her hands down, forcing her around, forcing her to listen. 'Why, Lexy, why? Why shouldn't Evan know what he's getting into? He's a nice enough guy. A word to the wise first won't hurt, just change the rules a little. I wouldn't want any friend of mine caught up by a cheap little tramp like you.'

  'Who set you up as my judge, jury and executioner? You don't even know the facts,' she cried. 'What gives you the right to torment me? Leave me alone, Dominic. Leave me alone!'

  'That I won't do,' he bit out, his hands tightening painfully on her wrists. 'I've paid your fine salary for very little service rendered. Surely Miles Jackson got more for his money. Four years, for God's sake!'

  'Shut up, you're vile. Vile! You don't pay me enough for that,’ she spat out, struggling to free herself. To her surprise, his hands released her, only to take her by the arm, dragging her towards the cabin.

  A touch of fear coursed through her. 'Let me go, Dominic.'

  'We'll up the stakes,' Dominic said savagely, thrusting her ahead of him.

  'No, oh no,' she whispered, trying to hold back, trying to brace herself against his push, but to no avail. Steadily, inexorably, he forced her forward, till he picked her up and tossed her on her bunk.

  She sat up, scrambling back against the bulkhead, eyes wide with fear, her heart beating rapidly, her mouth dry. Mesmerized, terrified, she watched him pull his shirt from his head, his hands go to his belt, then stop.

  'Dominic! For God's sake, don't do this, please.' She was staring, unable to believe her own eyes. This couldn't be happening to her. It was surely a nightmare from which she would soon awake.

  He reached for her.

  The move galvanized her into action. Lexy fought, flailing her fists, trying to kick him, bite him, anything to escape. She was like a wild creature, cornered and fighting for survival. Raking her nails down his shoulder, she drew blood, but didn't stop him. Dominic lay across her, forcing her down, heavy on her, pinning her to the bunk, clawing at her top, seeking the soft skin beneath. Lexy twisted and turned, kicking out again and again, hitting him with her hands, trying desperately to evade him. Panting with exertion, her breath mingling with his as he sought supremacy, flesh smacking against flesh, she brought up her knee. Aiming for another target, she kneed him in his diaphragm as he moved to pull off her shirt. The short, unexpected jerk knocked the breath from Dominic. He lay still, winded.

  Lexy quickly scrambled to the foot of her bunk, on her knees, facing him, her hands curled into claws, ready to defend again, her breath ragged and hoarse, terror still in her eyes.

  Slowly Dominic drew breath again, once, twice. He slitted his eyes and saw her, his face distorting at her expression. Slowly he sat up, remaining on the edge of the bunk, his face buried in his hands.

  The silence dragged on.

  Lexy took a shaky breath. Watching him warily, she began to speak, softly, slowly.

  'When I was seventeen, I thought I was in love with a man I knew from my hometown. We went everywhere together. Then, I had him to our house, but my grandfather, he raised me you know, forbade me to see him again, forbade me to have anything further to do with him. Grandfather said he was a rotter, only after my virtue to try to force my hand in marriage for grandfather's money,' she said flatly. 'I knew better, or so I thought. So, when I turned eighteen, I told him, my friend, I was of age and we could do whatever he wanted. Thumb our noses at my grandfather and his old cautions. I think I must have hurt my grandfather very much.' She looked closely at Dominic; he hadn't moved, was he listening to her? He owed her that much at least.

  'Anyway, we went off for a weekend together. I left a note for my grandfather, made a grand gesture. And fell flat on my face. Before the weekend was over, his estranged wife showed up and made a horrible scene. I hadn’t known he was married. And the worst part was he was after grandfather’s money. I was just his ticket to an easier life.'

  'You returned home sadder, but wiser.' He was listening.

  'Yes. I tried to tell Grandfather that I realized my mistake. That I wanted his forgiveness. I would do anything to get back in his good graces.’

  ‘You were young. He knew that.’ Dominic said.

  She laughed mirthlessly at that, a short bleak sound.

  'Grandfather wouldn't believe me. He was furious. I was sent away, away from the only home I had ever had. It was horrible, Dominic, you can't imagine. I was young, had led a sheltered life and didn't know what to do. I had no money, no friends. It was awful.' Her eyes looked beyond him, back down the years to that young, bewildered and hurt teenaged girl. Alone for the very first time, frantic, unsure, afraid, prey to scandal, unhappiness, propositions and vicious gossip. She shrugged, sighed, coming back to the present.

  'You know the rest. I hit up an old school friend for enough money to get to London. Got a job on a ship bound for the West Indies. Then met Miles. It was only, in spite of what that cat he married says. I was never his lover. Tom was his friend and he gave me a job when Amelia made it too uncomfortable to stay working with Miles. But by then Amelia, jealous as she was, spread lies all over Barbados. I had told Miles why I had left England and he had helped me when I first came over. She embellished it to fit her story, and told Joey, I guess.'

  'Did he really ask you to live with him?' a tight voice, his head still in his hands.

  'Yes, but he wasn't the only one. I couldn't make anyone believe I didn't want that, that I wasn't just playing hard to get. I was rather unkind when I refused your cousin. I know he relished our meeting in Bridgetown, he paid me back with interest.' Lexy shuddered at the remembrance—-Joey had been cruel. She glanced up to Dominic. Finally she had told him, now he would know.

  'And Evan, what did you say to him to entice him this far from home? He's never taken his boat so far before. What promises did you offer him?' he bit out.

  Lexy sighed, her fingers relaxing. She watched her hands, folding them loosely in her lap, her breathing back to normal. The danger was gone for now and oddly, she felt no further pain that Dominic didn't believe her, only a certainty that she must now go. Somehow, through all she’d suffered, the hope that she would find a way to tell him the truth, that he would love her and declare it as soon as she had told him the truth, had sustained her.

  She never once envisioned his not believing her. She had only looked for a chance to explain.

  She wasn't herself anymore, she was someone else, watching Alexis Kent to see what she would do now.

  Dominic sat up, dropped his hands and slowly turned to face her. 'What about Evan?' he demanded harshly.

  Still watching her hands, still with that detached feeling, Lexy replied softly,

  'Please leave my cabin.' She said no more, her eyes closing wearily, shutting out all sights, just as she wished she could shut everything else out of her mind and forget.

  She heard the click as the door closed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alexis turned the corner into the quiet street, squat palms lining both sides, giving large patches of shade in the late afternoon sun. The air was still and heavy, and she walked quickly the short distance to her apartment, her short skirt swinging with her firm step. She opened the outer door of the building, running lightly up the stairs to the second floor, almost blind in the faint light after the brilliance of the afternoon sun. Still, she knew her way by now and could have managed in the dark.

  'Looking for you, Miss Kent,' a voice wheezed beh
ind her.

  Lexy turned to see her landlady trudging up the stairs, her huge girth almost too wide for the stairway.

  'Is something wrong, Mrs. Taylor?' Lexy asked, puzzled. In the eight months she had lived here she had only seen Mrs. Taylor eight times–the first of each month, when paying her rent. With her vast bulk, Lexy could understand her landlady's reluctance to move about much. Yet, here she was, climbing the stairs, a small brown wrapped parcel in her hand.

  'Whew! It's a hot day for these stairs,' Mrs. Taylor wheezed, reaching the top. 'Ain't nothing wrong. This parcel’s for you. Gentleman brought it by today and asked me especially to deliver it to your hands.' Her brown eyes looked at Lexy slyly, 'He didn't give no name.'

  Puzzled, Lexy thanked her and took the box. The brown wrapper gave no clue as to its contents, or who had sent it. She took it and turned back to open her door. Her address was clearly printed, but that was all, no return address. No postage. She frowned. Only two or three people knew where she lived. Who could have brought it by?

  Lexy, savoring the suspense, dropped it on the table in the main room as she crossed to switch on the fan. It was always warm in the afternoons here, stuffy. She was glad she worked in a shop with air-conditioning.

  Fixing herself a tall glass of juice, with lots of ice, she kicked off her high-heeled sandals as she crossed the small room. She still preferred going barefoot. She smiled as she wiggled her toes, the pile of the small rug soft against her feet. Maybe one day Mr. Ferguson would let her work sans shoes.

  Lexy crossed to the sofa, picking up the parcel in passing, sinking back into the soft cushions. She was pleasantly tired; an early night was on the cards this evening. She put her head back, sipped the juice, idly fingering the brown paper, relaxing from the day's activities.

  Stacey, the accountant at Mr. Ferguson's bookshop where Lexy now worked, would be screaming with impatience to see what was inside the package, to discover who had sent it. Lexy smiled, maybe Stacey herself had sent it, she was one of the few people who knew her address. She could have had one of her friends bring it by. Mr. Ferguson also knew her address, but he wouldn't be sending her anything, nor would Stacey, come to that.

  Lexy had been in Bridgetown for eight months. She remembered vaguely, finally, leaving the sloop after the awful realization and acceptance that her words had meant nothing to Dominic Frazer. She had not been believed. Dominic had been lying down in the main cabin, but asleep, or so she thought, though the air had reeked of brandy, when she sneaked out at dusk, with only her clothes, leaving everything else behind. Numbly, detached, she had sought Evan Preston's aid in surreptitiously leaving the lagoon; had obtained transportation at Santa Theresa, with no one knowing but Evan. How quick he’d been to come to her aid, but how puzzled.

  Slipping away before dawn, sneaking into Santa Theresa, Lexy knew he had thought it highly dramatic, but she hadn't cared. She would forever be grateful for his help, but had been firm in bidding him farewell, with no forwarding address provided, although he had asked her more than once. She was cutting all ties.

  Bridgetown was only to have been the departure point for another destination, but by the time she had reached the bustling anonymous city, the urgency to go so far had faded. By searching for a flat and a job in the older part of town, Lexy thought she would minimize any chance of running into former acquaintances. And so it had proved for the most part. Once she had run into Joey Compton who expressed his surprise at seeing her and quickly tried to engage her in a conversation. She had ended the encounter, vowing to avoid that street whenever possible thereafter. Another time she thought she had seen Amelia Jackson, and though Lexy did wonder how Miles was doing, she had no desire to renew acquaintances with his wife; so had turned and gone in another direction.

  Her job at the bookshop had been most fortuitous. The proprietor's granddaughter wanted an extended leave to have a baby, and Lexy was glad of the opportunity to work, both because she needed the money, and because she needed the occupation to keep her thoughts at bay. While the job was not forever, the few months' respite would give her time to think and decide on her next move. Peggy was not sure if she wanted to leave little Jeffie, so the job could become permanent. It was now up to Lexy to decide to stay or try Canada.

  She worked hard, but socialized very little outside of work. The few friends she’d made at the bookshop asked her to join them often, but she always refused. The hurt lurking in her eyes kept them from pressing the issue. They continued to ask her, accepting her refusals equably. She would come when she was ready.

  She tried to banish all thoughts of Dominic from her mind, refusing to allow herself even a moment's memory before ruthlessly cutting it from her mind. This was easy enough to do during the day; she had plenty to do to occupy her mind. Still, in the nights, uncontrollable longings would sweep over her until she thought she would die with aching. She would then read until the small hours, trying to tire herself enough to sleep.

  Eight months were not long enough to get over him, she thought, maybe eight years.

  'Or eighty,' she said, draining her glass, wondering where he was now, what he was doing. Did he ever think of her?

  Slowly Lexy unwrapped the parcel; staring in disbelief at the big letters on the book's cover. Jungle Gold by Nick Roberts. The colorful cover picture showing a sinister, dark mine swamped by jungle growth. Lexy sat frozen. It was his book. Dominic's book. It was published! Of course she knew from Mr. Ferguson's place that it was coming out, but they weren't expecting a shipment for another month or so. Time, she had thought, to be prepared, to be ready to deal with it.

  Now, here was a copy in her lap. Tenderly her fingers traced the title, traced his pen name. This was the book he had written while she swam in the lagoon, explored the island, was sleeping in his bunk after being so sick. These words came from his head, through his fingers, now to her. She hadn't been there to see the finished manuscript, to read the ending. She would have to read the book. She smiled, remembering she had said that at Patience's.

  Who had sent it?

  She looked up, the color draining from her face. Oh, God, he couldn't know she was here. There was no way. She hadn’t told anyone that knew him. Except for Joey, she had not run into any of Dominic's friends or relatives that she knew of. And Joey didn't know where she lived; their encounter had been on a public street near the shop. How did the book get here?

  She shook the wrappings, but there was no card. Slowly she opened the book, there was nothing written on the inside cover. With a curious disappointment, she turned the page. The title jumped out at her again, then his name, his pen name. She smiled. She had liked what she had read before. She would read a little, just to see if she could spot where he had made changes from the first draft. Find out the ending.

  A knock on the door delayed her plans. Her heart leaped. Could it be Dominic? Had he brought the book earlier and was now coming to– To what? Renew old acquaintances? Get angry at her leaving before the end of the writing? Lexy put the book down on the table and slowly crossed to open the door. Her mouth was dry, her heart pounding. Dominic?

  Her heart dropped even as her defenses rose. It was not Dominic, but Joey Compton standing on the threshold.

  'Hello, Lexy, remember me?' he asked insolently. His smile hinted at cruelty, his look raking her as she stood by the opened door.

  'Go away, Joey,' she said as she started to close the door, but even as she began, he pushed it open, and walked into the flat.

  'That's no way to treat an old friend, honey,' he said easily, smiling at her discomfort. While not a particularly tall man, Lexy felt as if he towered over her. Why was he here?

  'We are not friends, please leave.' Lexy remained by the opened door, watching Joey with hostile eyes. He was the last person she had wanted to see.

  'Thought we could visit a while, you know. Talk over old times, so to speak, maybe talk about our future. Left Dominic, eh—'

  'I haven't seen your cousin in months
. And thanks to you and your horrible revelations on the boat the job was awful. That was mean, Joey. It would have been a good job.'

  He shrugged, looking around the small living room, his eye caught by the wrapping paper and the new book. He picked it up. 'Well, well, Dom's through another book and you already have a copy. Any good?'

  He idly turned the first few pages, glancing at the title, stopping as something caught his eye.

  'Put it down and get out!' Lexy said, wanting to snatch the precious book from his hands as if his very touch would defile it.

  Joey looked at her curiously for a moment, closed the book and dropped it casually back on the table.

  'Seen Dom lately?' he asked, with an odd note in his voice.

  'No, I told you, it's been months since I've seen him. Will you get out!'

  Lexy debated calling on her landlady for help in evicting Joey, but knew it would be futile. Even if Mrs. Taylor were willing to get involved, Joey would probably charm her out of the notion. He was a nice enough looking man and could play up to the ladies.

  'Told you that day on the boat that he was still wrapped up in his dead wife—he's not for the likes of you, Lexy girl.'

  'And I suppose you are?' she asked sarcastically. She sighed, moving slowly away from her stance at the door. If Joey came only to bait her, her best defense would be to ignore him. If he tired of the activity, maybe he’d leave.

  'I'm still willing,' he glanced around again. 'I could move right in here, this is a nice place.' His smile was almost a leer.

  'You’re disgusting!' she replied. 'How did you find out where I live?' Gone now was her cloak of anonymity which she had tried to erect, her carefully built new life.

  'Followed you back to your shop the day we ran into each other. Later, followed you here.' He shrugged and crossed to her. 'It was easy enough, and well worth it. Lexy, I still want you,' he said with urgency.

  She stiffened and turned to face him. 'Forget it, Joey. I told you once before I wasn't that kind of person, and even if I were, you'd be the last person I'd take up with.'

 

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