by Anne Mather
She didn’t immediately go and sit down. Instead, she walked to the edge of the area and looked down on to the beach. The palms that grew in such profusion at the edge of the sand were dark against a sky as blue as periwinkles, and along the shoreline a clump of seaweed had been washed up by the tide. It was the cause of some dispute between a pair of squabbling sea-birds, and their raucous cries rose shrilly over the murmur of the tide.
She was so intent on watching the quarrelling gulls that she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps behind her, and she jumped almost guiltily when a voice said, ‘Good morning.’
It was Alex, and Camilla’s confusion was compounded by the fact that he was the last person she had expected to see. He was supposed to have had his breakfast and left for his office in Honolulu, she thought dizzily. Instead of which he was standing there, lean and dark and masculine, in black trousers and a white shirt, regarding her as if he had nothing more than her well-being on his mind.
‘Um…good morning,’ she responded at last, putting her hands behind her and bracing herself against the low wall of the terrace. However, the unconscious provocation of the action exposed the rounded swell of her small breasts, and as realisation dawned she felt a corresponding awareness harden her nipples. The taut peaks pushed against the thin fabric of her shirt—hopelessly noticeable, she thought frustratedly—and she straightened abruptly and folded her arms.
If Alex noticed this ludicrous display he gave no sign of it, and she was grateful. God, she thought impatiently, she was acting like an adolescent!
‘How are you?’ he asked now, and she made a conscious effort to act casually.
‘Fine,’ she said, forcing a smile to relax the muscles of her face. ‘But…I’m afraid I overslept again.’
‘It happens.’ Alex’s lean features were politely composed. ‘I guess it’s the jet lag. It can be that way sometimes. Though, in my experience, it’s harder flying east than west. At least this way you gain some time, instead of losing it.’
Camilla nodded. ‘Oh, yes.’ Then, feeling compelled to say something about Virginia, she added, ‘I suppose there’s no…’
Her voice trailed away, but Alex clearly knew what she had been going to ask. ‘No,’ he said heavily, and to her relief he turned away. ‘No word,’ he appended, trailing his fingers along the crisp white cloth that covered the table. ‘It’s as if they’ve disappeared off the face of the earth.’
Camilla moistened her lips. ‘Your investigator—’
‘Has found nothing. Not a trace. Since they hired a car in Los Angeles, and drove south to San Diego, there have been no sightings whatsoever. And, believe me, there’ve been plenty of people looking.’
Camilla sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’ He turned then, a frown drawing his darkly defined brows together. ‘Why should you be sorry? It’s not your fault, is it?’
‘Well, of course not, but—’
‘But—what?’ He gave her a narrow-eyed appraisal. ‘If, as you say, you haven’t seen Virginia for six years, why the hell should you be sorry?’
Camilla stiffened. ‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘Yes, if you say so.’ But his response was grudging, to say the least, and Camilla laced her fingers together.
‘Well, it’s the truth,’ she said tightly, realising it was much harder to argue a point in shorts and a T-shirt than it was in a business suit. ‘And I have no idea why she wrote to me after all this time. Not…not if she intended not to be here.’
Alex was regarding her intently now. ‘You’re sure about that?’
‘Of course.’ Camilla was indignant. ‘I hope you don’t think I insisted on coming. It wasn’t my idea at all. I…I had other plans.’
Alex frowned. ‘Other plans?’
‘It is the summer season,’ she reminded him shortly. ‘I…was going on holiday with…with a friend. I had to cancel that when I decided to come here.’
‘Ah.’ Alex pushed his fingers into the low waistband of his trousers, resting on his hips at the back. He considered for a moment, and then said flatly, ‘A male friend.’
‘What?’
Camilla was briefly bewildered, and he explained. ‘The friend you were going on holiday with,’ he prompted. ‘You don’t wear a ring, so I assume you’re not married.’
Camilla caught her breath. For a moment she couldn’t speak. She had never imagined he might have noticed anything about her, least of all whether or not she was wearing a wedding-ring.
But, as if he was growing impatient with her wideeyed consternation, Alex’s hands fell to his sides and he made a careless gesture. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked. It’s nothing to do with me.’ He glanced over his shoulder towards the house. ‘You must be hungry. I’ll get Lee to fetch you some coffee, and you can tell him what you’d like to eat.’
Camilla took an involuntary step towards him. ‘It…it was a woman, actually,’ she said, compelled to correct his assumption. ‘We were going pony-trekking in Wales. She still is, as it happens. We were going with a group, so one more or less doesn’t matter.’
‘I see.’
But Alex didn’t seem interested any longer, and Camilla guessed that once again he was only being polite. And, as if on cue, Wong Lee chose that moment to come out of the house, successfully curtailing any chance she might have had of prolonging their conversation.
Not that she could be angry with the cheery-faced Chinese man. His manner was so unfailingly polite, and his eager efforts to persuade her that rolls and coffee did not constitute a proper breakfast were almost comical. She was sufficiently diverted not to notice when Alex left them, and it was not until the little man had departed to inform Mama Lu of her decision that she realised she was alone.
In the event, she accepted one of Mama Lu’s blueberry muffins, tucked into the basket of warm croissants the housekeeper brought her. And that, combined with several more cups of the deliciously aromatic beverage, which bore no resemblance to the coffee she made for herself at home, was all she wanted. It wasn’t just the conversation with Alex that had disconcerted her. She simply wasn’t very hungry. Now that she was alone again her worries about Virginia had re-surfaced, and she wondered how any mother could do to her daughter what Virginia was doing. If she had just taken the child as a blind, as she had done before, why hadn’t she sent her home again before she left the island? Surely, wherever she was, the little girl could only be a nuisance to her? Unless she had some other motive for taking her, a motive they had yet to find out…
She was pondering this equation when a shadow fell across the table. Expecting it to be either Wong Lee, or Mama Lu, come to chivvy her about the poor breakfast she had made, Camilla looked up with a rueful smile, a smile that faltered unmistakably when she encountered Alex’s dark stare.
However, his expression was not condemnatory. On the contrary, there was a certain detachment in his gaze, and his tone was distant as he said, ‘I have to leave now. Much as I might deplore the fact, I have a business to run, and at least it keeps my mind occupied.’ He paused. ‘But I was wondering if you’d had any further thoughts about what you’re going to do.’
‘What I’m going to do?’ Camilla blinked. ‘But I thought I—’
‘I know what you said yesterday,’ he interrupted her abruptly, ‘but it seems fairly obvious that Virginia’s not going to get in touch with you.’
‘Does it?’
‘Well, doesn’t it?’ He took a deep breath. ‘You’ve been here more than twenty-four hours—nearly forty-eight hours, actually—and, unless you know something that I don’t, there’s been no contact. Has there?’
‘Well…no…’
‘So, tell me about it. Do you really think Virginia is going to risk my finding out where she is by phoning you?’
‘Perhaps not.’ Camilla felt cold. ‘In other words, you want me to leave.’
Alex raked the fingers of one hand through his hair, bringing the hand
to rest at the back of his neck. Then, tipping his head back against the obstruction, he uttered a weary sound.
‘I think it would be best,’ he said at last, bringing his head forward again to look at her. ‘Don’t you?’
Camilla tore her gaze away, and looked down at the table. ‘I…perhaps.’ She lifted her shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to get a flight today, though—’
‘You don’t have to leave today,’ retorted Alex impatiently. ‘I’m not that unreasonable. In fact…’ He broke off, and then, levelling his tone, he added, ‘Why don’t you book into one of the hotels on Waikiki for a few days? I could get my secretary to arrange it. At my expense, of course.’
‘No!’ Camilla’s reply was instantaneous, and the look she momentarily cast up at him left him in no doubt as to her response to his offer. ‘No, I…I’ll phone the airline this morning. If you have no objections, of course. Otherwise, I suppose I could take a taxi into town—’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ Alex’s reaction to this was as aggressive as hers had been. ‘You don’t have to phone the airline. I’ll make any enquiries that are necessary myself.’
‘I’d really rather—’
‘I’ve said I’ll do it,’ he told her harshly, turning away. ‘In any case, it’s too late to do anything about it today. The morning flight has already left, and the afternoon plane to Los Angeles is usually over-subscribed. As I say, leave it with me, and I’ll let you know what I’ve arranged.’
Camilla shrugged. ‘If you insist.’
‘I do.’
But Alex seemed restless, and although he had said he was leaving he was making no move to do so. On the contrary, he seemed mesmerised by the view Camilla had been looking at earlier, and the silence stretched between them, fairly simmering with tension.
However, Camilla was the guest here, and, deciding she was being ungracious, she made an effort to recover her sense of balance. After all, he was just being polite, she told herself. Even if his kindness smacked of noblesse oblige.
‘I…I did wonder,’ she said, annoyed to find her voice wasn’t entirely steady. ‘I did wonder if…if you had considered that Virginia might have had some other reason for…for taking Maria with her. I mean,’ she hastened on, as his brooding gaze was turned again in her direction, ‘it’s possible that she had a reason—’
‘She does.’ His reply was savage. ‘It’s her way of making sure I do what she wants.’
‘Well, yes. I can see that.’ Camilla didn’t exactly know what she did see, and she had the feeling that Alex wasn’t interested in her theories anyway. Nevertheless, she went on, ‘But you think her running away has to do with…with her addiction—’
‘It does.’
‘But what if it was something else?’
‘Something else?’ She had his attention now, though she doubted he was really listening to her. ‘What else could there be?’
Camilla swallowed. ‘Well…a divorce?’
‘A divorce?’ Alex’s expression was pitying now. ‘You’re not serious!’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not? I’ll tell you why not!’ Alex was scathing. ‘Because Virginia knows she can have a divorce any time she cares to ask for one.’
‘Does she?’
Camilla’s response was barely audible, and Alex’s mouth twisted with some emotion she couldn’t identify. ‘Yes,’ he said now. ‘Yes, she can have a divorce. God, Camilla, what kind of a life do you think we have together? Do you have some romantic idea that love can survive the kind of marriage we’ve had? How many times can someone lie to you, before you realise they’re never going to tell the truth? That it’s a foreign language to them? Virginia and I passed the point of no return years ago, but I, gullible fool that I was, still felt some responsibility for her.’
In spite of the heat of the day, Camilla shivered. ‘I…I didn’t know.’
‘No.’ His answer was an acceptance of her ignorance. ‘No, I guess you didn’t. Or you wouldn’t have come here, right?’
‘Right.’ Camilla pressed her hands down on the table and stood up. ‘I…thank you for telling me.’
‘God, don’t thank me!’ Alex made a sound of frustration. ‘I probably shouldn’t have laid this on you. It’s not your concern, and it isn’t fair to expect you to make a judgement, either way.’ He closed his eyes for a moment against the images only he could see, ‘I must be getting maudlin. I’m not in the habit of unburdening myself to anyone.’
Camilla shook her head. ‘Sometimes it helps,’ she murmured, not quite knowing what to say, and Alex grimaced.
‘Oh, yes. I guess you’re used to listening while strangers pour out their troubles, aren’t you? It’s part of your job. Well, they say confession’s good for the soul, don’t they?’
Camilla sighed. ‘I…don’t consider you a…a stranger,’ she amended carefully. ‘And…this isn’t part of my job.’
‘Isn’t it?’
He was looking directly at her now, and Camilla moved round her chair to grip the back with nervous fingers. ‘No.’
‘No.’ His eyes widened, the pupils expanding to fill the iris so that they looked almost black. ‘You’re a good friend, aren’t you, Camilla?’ he added, his tone vaguely self-derisive. ‘You wouldn’t dream of lying to me, would you?’
Camilla didn’t know how to answer that. For some reason the atmosphere between them was suddenly taut with unspoken emotions, and a trickle of moisture ran chillingly down her spine. He was staring at her as if he could see right through her shallow façade of composure, into the forbidden tangle of her thoughts. And the knowledge caused her heart to quicken, and the blood to race like liquid fire through her veins. Dear God, he couldn’t know what she was thinking, could he? He couldn’t know how much she wanted to console him; to comfort him; to touch him—
‘I have to go.’
His words were abrupt and decisive, severing the humid air with the incisiveness of a knife. Whatever thoughts he had had, he was not prepared to discuss them, and Camilla hung on to the back of the chair as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket, and tossed them in his hand.
‘You’ll be all right?’
Camilla wondered what he would say if she said no, but discretion was the better part of valour, and she nodded. ‘Of course.’
Alex frowned suddenly. ‘I could get someone to give you a quick tour of the island,’ he offered, and she sensed he was feeling guilty for some reason. Or was it just her imagination working overtime once again? ‘I guess you’d like to see some of the parks and gardens. And there’s Pearl Harbor, of course. Everyone wants to see that.’
‘No.’ She tempered her refusal with a tight smile. ‘I…don’t need entertaining. Besides,’ she gestured towards the beach, ‘I can always swim, can’t I? And sunbathe, too, if I want.’
‘So long as you don’t get burned,’ agreed Alex warningly, and then, realising he was getting heavy again, he added, ‘But, if you change your mind about that tour, ring me. I know Grant would be only too happy to spend the day with a beautiful woman.’ He paused, and pulled a wry face. ‘Oh, I forgot. You don’t know Grant, do you? Well, he’s my—’
‘Cousin,’ put in Camilla unthinkingly. ‘I know.’ And, as Alex’s eyes narrowed, she felt the colour invade her cheeks once again. ‘We…we’ve met.’
‘You have?’ Alex was polite, but she could feel the hostility that had entered his eyes at her words. ‘How interesting. D’you want to tell me when?’
Camilla sighed. ‘Yesterday, of course. I assumed he’d have told you.’ She shifted a little defensively. ‘Didn’t Mama Lu say anything?’
‘No. No, she didn’t.’ Alex’s mouth thinned. ‘But then, I guess we’ve all had other things on our minds, haven’t we?’ He clenched the car keys in his balled fist. ‘So—he came here? What did he want?’
Camilla felt a rising sense of indignation overtaking her other emotions. He was acting as if she had somehow betrayed his trust
, when, in fact, she would have much preferred not to have met his cousin.
‘I don’t know,’ she said now, and there was an edge of impatience to her voice. ‘Why don’t you ask him?’
‘Oh, I will.’ Alex’s eyes were cold. ‘Depend on it.’
Anger swamped her. Just because she had admitted that Grant Blaisdell had come here in his absence he had reverted to treating her as if she was a suspect in the case. My God, the man was paranoid! She’d hardly have told him she had met Grant if she had anything to hide, would she?
With an audible sound of defeat, she let go of the chair and started across the terrace. To hell with him, she thought crossly. He could deal with it in his own way, but she didn’t have to be part of it. If he wanted to speak to her again he could bloody well ask to do so. She’d be damned if she was going to stay here and bear the brunt of his frustration.
She hadn’t expected he would come after her, but he did, and she had barely reached the foot of the spiral staircase when his hand descended on her shoulder. ‘Wait,’ he said harshly, and, although wisdom dictated that she ignore him and go on, the weight of his restraining fingers was a strong deterrent. Besides, she was intensely conscious of the spreading heat that had invaded her stomach when he had touched her, and she wasn’t entirely sure her legs would carry her up the steps.
Still, she had to do something to retain her sanity, and, tipping her head towards him, she adopted her most intimidating court-room stare. ‘Well?’
Alex met her gaze without flinching. Instead, his eyes held hers with a steady appraisal that accelerated her already racing heart and caused a corresponding quickening of her breathing. The world seemed to shrink to embrace just the two of them, with the hard pressure of his flesh against hers as its core.
And, as if he, too, was aware of the sexual energy flowing between them, his fingers softened, gentled, his thumb moving down over the narrow bone of her clavicle with almost involuntary possession. She caught her breath as his thumb invaded the neckline of her shirt to brush against her leaping pulse, that beat in the hollow at the base of her throat, and her tongue parted her lips when his gaze dropped to her mouth.