Guilty Passion

by Bright, Laurey;

  “I like to think so.”

  “Have you. . . have you looked at the disks that were in Alec’s car?”

  “Started to. I think I can recover most of what’s on them. I’d say they weren’t quite as badly damaged as they might have been. The briefcase kept out most of the water.”

  “Steven will be pleased.”

  “I hope he’ll do justice to Alec’s work.”

  “I’m sure he will. Steven had a great deal of respect for Alec.”

  “He’s also a very ambitious young man. I’ll be printing out all those notes before I give the disks to him.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I want to be sure that my brother gets all the credit that’s due him.”

  Celeste said, “I don’t think that Steven would steal any credit. You don’t know him.”

  “I asked you once before,” Ethan said softly, “how well you know him.”

  Her head came up, and she looked fully and unwaveringly into his eyes for once. Steadily, she said, “I think I told you it was none of your business.”

  “Something like that,” he agreed.

  “Nothing’s changed,” she said, and walked out of the room.

  A few days later, on the beach, Celeste met Henry Palmer mooching about with a stick. His face brightened when he saw her, and he came towards her. “Janice is in the throes of creation,” he said. “I’m at a bit of a loose end. How about coming into town with me? It’s her birthday next week, and I’d value your advice on a present.”

  “I’d like that,” she said. “I haven’t seen much of the shops in Conneston.”

  “Ethan too busy to take you to town?”

  “I’ve been with him a couple of times to buy supplies and collect the mail, but I haven’t really needed to shop much, and he’s been working on a project that has a deadline.”

  “Do you drive, yourself?”

  “I have a licence, but I wouldn’t care to drive Ethan’s car.” She was a good driver, but it was one of the things that Alec had wanted to do for himself. As soon as he could he had purchased a specially adapted car, and when they were together he would always drive.

  She left a note for Ethan and sat beside Henry in the car, enjoying the view while he drove quite slowly into the town. There were a number of gift shops selling souvenirs and local crafts of varying quality, and after a pleasant hour’s browsing and discussion, they settled on a plain wooden bowl fashioned of polished island mangrove with a lovely grain.

  In the same shop were hand-painted and tie-dyed silk blouses and scarves and even a few dresses made by a local woman. Attracted by a scoop-necked, sleeveless dress with a swirling pattern in greens and blues with a hint of lavender, Celeste picked up the full skirt and spread it to examine the colours that flowed into one another like the changing colours of the sea.

  “Very nice,” Henry commented. “Try it on.”

  Celeste smiled, shaking her head.

  “Why not? It would suit you,” he told her.

  “Oh, I just bought a dress.”

  “So buy another. I’d like to see you in it. Try it on. To humour an old man.”

  Celeste laughed. “Is this how you go on when you’re shopping with Janice?”

  “Depends,” he said. “I’m afraid I couldn’t persuade her to get into that. This, now—” he picked up a long scarf with colours ranging from strong pink through deep red and purple to black “—I can see her wearing it.”

  “So can I,” Celeste agreed. “Yes, it would suit her.”

  “I’ll have it,” Henry decided grandly. “If you try on the dress.”

  Celeste gave in and the proprietor ushered her into a curtained alcove. The dress was a perfect fit, and she had to admit it did things for her. The silk was light and soft against her skin, and the full circular skirt floated deliciously about her knees.

  “Don’t forget I want to see,” Henry called to her, and she pulled aside the curtain and stepped out in front of him.

  “You remind me of a mermaid,” he said simply. “Straight out of a fairy tale.”

  Celeste laughed, shaking her head.

  “I want to buy it for you,” he said. “A thank you for helping to choose Janice’s presents.”

  “Certainly not!”

  He chuckled. “I’m old enough for it not to be compromising, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of accepting it,” she said. “I can buy it for myself, if I want it.” She turned to the mirror again. It did look beautiful on her. She couldn’t help coveting it.

  “Go on,” Henry urged. “It might be made for you, and you know it.”

  In the end, she succumbed, telling the salesperson she would wear the dress and asking for her skirt and blouse to be wrapped for her. And in a fit of recklessness, encouraged by Henry, she bought a pair of high-heeled pale green leather sandals to go with it, and a coral pink lipstick.

  As they were returning to the car, Henry spied a wide-brimmed finely woven bleached palm-leaf hat, with a gauzy scarf tied around the base of the crown, and said, “Now, that’s just the thing to finish off that dress.”

  “Oh, no!” she said firmly.

  “I insist,” he told her, and marched her into the shop. She was still protesting when he paid for the hat after she had laughingly tried it on, and marched her out again. “I want to show my appreciation somehow,” he said.

  “I don’t think you needed my help at all,” she said, as he opened the car door for her. “You seem to be one of those rare males who actually enjoy shopping.”

  “Guilty.” He smiled at her. “But it’s more fun with company.”

  He left her at the end of the driveway, and she walked down to the house feeling happier than she had for a long time. A slight smile curving her lips, she went through to the living room and stopped in the doorway as Ethan turned from the window, his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

  She couldn’t see his face properly against the light, but something about the way he stood silently watching her was vaguely disquieting. She raised a hand and removed the hat, automatically shaking out her hair. Ethan’s hands came rather quickly out of his pockets, and he said, “Enjoyed yourself?”

  “Yes, I did. You got my note?”

  “I got it. You look very glamorous.”

  “Thank you.” But the way he said it, the remark hadn’t sounded much like a compliment.

  “Henry rates the full treatment, does he?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve never dressed up like that when you’ve gone into town with me.”

  “I didn’t with Henry, either. We found these in Conneston.”

  “We? These?”

  “The dress, the shoes and the hat. Henry talked me into them. He wanted to repay me for helping him choose Janice a present. Of course I—”

  “He bought them for you?”

  About to deny it, she felt a wave of anger. There was no mistaking his disapproval. It was nothing to do with him, anyway, even if Henry had bought her a whole wardrobe. Seized by a sudden imp of perversity, she said innocently, “Why not?” and, dropping the printed paper bag holding her discarded clothes, advanced into the room, the romantic hat in one hand, her walk deliberately provocative, the silk whispering against her legs. When she reached the middle of the mat, she twirled in front of him like a model, sending a teasing glance over her shoulder as the skirt flared, before she faced him again, spreading her hands. “Don’t you like it?”

  Her heart gave a lurch of fright as he took a step towards her. “What the hell are you playing at?” he demanded.

  “What the hell do you think?” she shot back. “You’re not my keeper, Ethan. If I want to accept gifts from Henry or any other man, that’s between him and me. You have no right to question me about it.”


  “You’re incredible,” he said. “I could have sworn that Henry, of all men, wouldn’t—”

  “Of course Henry wouldn’t! What do you take him for? What do you take me for, for heaven’s sake?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  “I bought the dress myself,” she said wearily. “Henry did offer, and I let him buy the hat when he insisted. An appreciation, he said, for helping him choose a present for his wife—whom he loves dearly, as I’m sure you’re aware. So work that out, why don’t you? I’m going upstairs to change.”

  On Janice’s birthday they were invited to join the Palmers for a barbecue on the beach. Jeff was there, too, of course, and a half dozen other people whom Celeste didn’t know. She found herself nervous of meeting them, and had to make an effort to appear at ease.

  Some of the guests were swimming, but even Jeff wore a pair of briefs in psychedelic colours, which earned him some teasing from the others. He accepted it with good humour, flopping down beside Celeste after leaving the water, and saying to her, “Don’t listen to them, Celeste. They’re just jealous.”

  From the other side of the fire built in a ring of stones, where Henry was expertly grilling steaks, Ethan looked over at Celeste and Jeff, his gaze skimming from one to the other. Then he returned his attention to his conversation with a pert young dark-haired woman who had made a beeline for him and seemed resolved not to be prised from his side. She was the daughter of a couple who were introduced as old friends of the Palmers, and apparently she had just completed her first year at university. A miniscule bikini showed off her luscious youthful figure enhanced by a smooth, even tan. Earlier she had initiated an energetic game of beach cricket and, watching her scampering along the sand, even Henry had been unable to hide an appreciative twinkle in his eye.

  Jeff chuckled in Celeste’s ear. “I see our Marietta is making a dead set at Ethan. A very determined young lady, that.”

  “He doesn’t look as though he minds, exactly,” Celeste said, as she watched Ethan throw back his head and laugh at something the girl said.

  “Can’t say I blame him,” Jeff admitted, grinning. “But she is a bit young for him.”

  She was, Celeste thought, far too young, but as the thought entered her head, she said, “I was probably about her age when I met my husband.”

  Jeff grimaced ruefully. “Put my foot in it, have I?”

  “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she said, and briefly touched his hand.

  She found Ethan’s eyes on her across the fire, but he quickly turned to Marietta, who had leaped to her feet and was trying to pull him up. Smiling, he got up and they ran hand in hand to the water. It was almost dark, and by the time they returned to the circle of firelight, night had fallen completely.

  “You two nearly missed the grub,” Henry told them, piling a couple of plates with steak, sausages and baked yam. “Here, help yourselves to salad.” He pointed out a couple of large wooden bowls.

  “You haven’t eaten much,” Jeff said to Celeste.

  “I’ve had plenty.” As Marietta and Ethan sat down, Janice handed the bowls round again, and Celeste shook her head. “No thanks. They are delicious salads, though.”

  “How about my steak?” Henry asked plaintively, and she smiled at him.

  “Wonderful.”

  “Fruit, then?” Janice offered, presenting a basket full of bananas, pineapple and pawpaws.

  Celeste took a banana, and Janice, after passing the basket to another guest, sat down beside her. “Marietta’s turning into a little minx,” she said, watching the girl as she leaned against Ethan’s shoulder while tucking into her meal. “I’ve known her since she was five. She was always a cute little thing, but she’s really blossomed now.”

  Another woman leaned over and said to Celeste, half-humorously, “Frankly, my dear, if he were my husband, I’d have scratched her eyes out by now. I don’t know why you stand for it.”

  Celeste said hastily, “Ethan isn’t my husband.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry. I thought you were introduced as Mrs. Ryland.”

  “They are related,” Janice explained. “Celeste is staying with him for a while. Her husband died recently.”

  The other guest was so embarrassed by the gaffe, in spite of Celeste’s assurances of nonoffence, that when Jeff suggested a swim, Celeste got to her feet with alacrity, allowing him to help her up.

  As they walked down to the water she said, “Thanks for rescuing me.”

  “She did rather overdo the apologies, didn’t she? I suppose it was a natural assumption.”

  “Yes, of course it was.”

  She splashed into the water beside him, but he soon outstripped her. After a while she floated on her back, looking at the stars that were spilling across the sky. When she heard someone coming close, she said, “Isn’t the sky beautiful at night?”

  “Beautiful,” said Ethan’s voice, and she swiftly turned in a flurry of water.

  “Where’s Jeff?” she asked.

  “I’ve no idea. I thought you two were together.”

  “He likes to swim in deeper water.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I’ve been a bit nervous of going too far, since that day we swam to the island.”

  “Very sensible. Don’t you think it’s time you came in?” He touched her arm, and she shied away.

  “You’re getting cold,” he said. “Come on.”

  “I’ll go back when I’m ready.”

  “Don’t be childish,” he said impatiently.

  “Why not? You seem to be keen on children—if they’re female.” As soon as the words left her lips she wished she could recall them, but it was too late.

  He said ominously, “Just what are you getting at?”

  “Nothing.” She struck out for deeper water, with a blind urge to flee, but he came after her, and grabbed her ankle. She flailed out at him, and they splashed about in a slippery, blinding little struggle before he caught both her arms and they sank together.

  She felt him kick upwards, their legs entwined, and as they surfaced and she shook back her hair, gasping, he had both her hands held tightly in his, keeping her afloat with him by the movements of his legs. “Stop fighting me,” he said curtly, “and explain.”

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you!” she said furiously. “Let me go!”

  She pulled away from him and got a mouthful of saltwater. Choking, she felt him change position to hold her almost like a life-saver, lying against his chest. He said softly, “You’re not jealous?”

  “No!” She twisted in his arms, and he laughed.

  Jeff’s voice called gaily, “Is this a private game, or can anyone play?”

  Ethan turned his head, and Celeste took the opportunity to wriggle a hand from his grasp, placing it on his wet hair and pushing him firmly under, until he let her go.

  As Jeff reached them, she said, “I’m not playing anymore,” and went racing for the shore. By the time the two men emerged from the water she was standing by the fire drying herself, and for the rest of the evening she made sure to stay close by one or other of the women. Marietta sat between Jeff and Ethan, sparkling for both of them. As the party progressed, Jeff seemed to be responding to the young girl’s innocent provocation more than Ethan.

  “There’s no harm in her,” Janice said, following Celeste’s reluctant gaze. “But I think perhaps her mother should have a talk with that young lady. Fortunately both Ethan and Jeff are far too decent and mature to take advantage of her. In fact, that’s probably why she’s behaving so outrageously. She knows she’s perfectly safe.”

  “She’s very lively,” Celeste said.

  “And very unsophisticated, in spite of the act.” Janice regarded the girl with absentminded tolerance. “Ethan mentioned earlier
that she reminded him of you when you were younger. You’re both lovely, of course, but I’m sure you were never a brunette.”

  “No.” Celeste didn’t think that she had ever been like Marietta, so obviously basking in male attention, thrilled with her ability to attract admiring glances and teasing compliments, and deliberately testing her youthful wiles on any good-looking male.

  As though reading her thoughts, Janice said, “I expect he meant that bubbling energy and confidence of a very young and very pretty girl.”

  “I’m not that young anymore,” Celeste said. “And I don’t have a lot of ‘bubble’ left, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, maturity brings other qualities.” Janice smiled. “You’re still only a girl by my standards. And I’m sure you’ll regain some of what you think you’ve lost.”

  As the night cooled, everyone donned more clothes; even Marietta covered up the bikini with a loose muslin dress that made her look little girlish and sexy at the same time. Celeste wriggled into a loose thigh-length T-shirt. One of the men brought out a ukulele and after a few solos, which were enthusiastically received, led the rest in community singing.

  Around midnight the party broke up by tacit consent, and Ethan picked up a torch and waited patiently for Celeste.

  She lingered, helping to pack the barbecue things and scour the beach for bits of litter they might have left lying about. But then there were no more excuses, and she had to join him on the dark path.

  They ascended in silence, and when they reached the top she hurried towards the house. Ethan had not locked up, and she opened the door and stepped inside with him behind her.

  He switched off the torch, plunging them into sudden blackness, and Celeste stopped short.

  “I can’t see,” she said. “Please put the torch on again, Ethan.”

  Instead, he turned on a table lamp that cast a dim glow, putting down the torch beside it. When he straightened, he was standing between her and the stairs, and she moved nervously, somehow afraid to close the space between them.

  “Want a nightcap?” he asked.

  With faint relief, she said, “No, I don’t think so, thanks.”