by Robyn Donald
The two men exchanged looks. ‘All bubble and bounce, the epitome of youthful exuberance,’ Brent agreed, the irony in his tone making him sound for a second like his cousin. He grinned at them both and asked hopefully, ‘Are we going out to dinner?’
Kain saved Sable from having to answer. ‘You’re leaving again tomorrow, aren’t you?’
‘Yep.’
‘Then you’d better have dinner with your mother,’ Kain said.
He said gloomily, ‘I suppose. She’s going to give me the full X-ray, though.’
Something about Brent’s demeanour and his tone caught Sable’s attention. He’d met a girl, she realised, her jumble of relief and surprise and shock tempered by amusement. Keeping her gaze away from Kain she said demurely, ‘Of course she will. She’ll want to spend as much time with you as she can. But before you go, tell us all about her.’
Colouring, Brent ran a hand through his hair and gave a half-smile. ‘Mum?’
Sable laughed. ‘Come on, own up. Who is she and would I like her?’
‘Yeah, you would,’ he said eagerly. ‘How did you know I’d met someone? She’s gorgeous—she comes from South Africa and she grew up on a game farm. When I finish the trip on the boat I think I’ll head across there. I’d really like to go on safari and Laura says her family do exceptionally good ones.’
‘It sounds fantastic,’ Sable said, still not looking at Kain.
What would he do now? Kick her out?
A pang of such pain shot through her that it was all she could do to stand up straight. As though Kain had felt it, the fingers on her arm tightened in support.
She said quietly, ‘Brent, do you think you might tell Kain who you bought the diamond ring for?’
Brent stared at her, then demanded, ‘How did you know about—?’
‘Your mother told me,’ Kain said, his voice deep and confident. He added, ‘You gave her address to the jeweller and the valuation documents went to her. She didn’t even look at the address until after she’d read the valuation.’
Brent swore beneath his breath, then looked shamefaced. ‘Sorry, Sable. I meant it to be a surprise,’ he said. ‘Damn, I went to such lengths—I had to filch a wedding photo of Mum and Dad, and blow it up so the jeweller could see what her engagement ring looked like. You remember, Kain, she lost it just after Dad died, and I told her then that when I had the money I’d buy her a new one. Well, I had the money, and I got one made. I was going to give it to her on the anniversary of their wedding when I came back. I never thought of the valuation papers going to her. Blast!’
Sable said warmly, ‘Go straight home and give it to her now. She’ll cry all over you but hey, you can cope with that.’
Half an hour later—time spent mainly in listening to Brent’s praise of his new love and the trip on the barquentine—he left, promising to send them postcards from every port.
Sable had grown increasingly strained; although Brent hadn’t seemed to notice, Kain had been strangely quiet. Perhaps he was wondering how to get her out of his life now that Brent no longer fancied himself in love with her—if he ever had.
Well, Kain didn’t have to worry. She’d leave tonight, before he realised the true nature of her feelings for him.
When the door finally closed behind the two men she went into her room and fought back stupid tears as she began throwing clothes into her backpack.
She’d almost finished when from the doorway Kain said in tones of ice, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘Leaving.’ Expression under such control the muscles in her face ached, she looked up. ‘You can’t keep me here any longer,’ she said, salvaging pride by pre-empting his marching orders.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, yes, I can,’ he said silkily.
Shocked, she stared at him. ‘But Brent’s obviously no longer in any danger from me—not that he ever was. I hope you’re satisfied of that now. He even knew about the blackmail.’
Just saying it made her feel dirty. She added on a snap, ‘And the diamond ring is no longer an issue.’
‘This new relationship could well be a face-saving exercise. You’ll stay here as my lover until I’m convinced Brent no longer harbours any hopes.’ He looked at her backpack. ‘So you can put that away.’
Sable seethed, anger contesting for advantage over a deeply shameful relief. Grimly, her voice shaking, she said, ‘I will never forgive you for this.’
She turned and stalked across to the door, furious all over again when she heard him say with amusement, ‘Brent really doesn’t know how lucky he is. I’ve saved him from a termagant.’
‘I’m only like this with—’ She stopped precipitately. Admitting that he was the only person who’d ever made her this angry was revealing too much. ‘With people I despise,’ she finished triumphantly and hurled the door shut behind her.
Only when she found herself in the hall outside did she realise that she’d left him in her bedroom.
OK, so she’d made a total fool of herself. Face it, she said to the part of her that was quivering with embarrassment. She opened the door again.
Kain hadn’t moved and was looking down at her backpack with a grim expression. It vanished when she came back into the room, his brow climbing with familiar irony.
She said quietly, ‘Please go now.’
He strolled towards her, something in his gait setting off alarm sirens. Resisting the urge to put up her arms against him, she stared at him with all the defiance she could muster.
‘When you’re angry your eyes glitter with dark fire,’ he said conversationally. He bent his head and closed them with a soft kiss each. ‘And your mouth is ripe and red and eminently kissable, even when it’s spitting fire.’
Body tense and reckless, she waited for him to kiss her properly. When nothing happened, shame forced her lashes upwards to meet a humourless smile.
‘But you’re tired, and I’ll bet you didn’t have any lunch. Unpack while I order dinner. We’ll eat in and you can go to bed early. And if I can’t trust you to eat regular meals in future I’ll tell young Poppy to see that you do.’
He would too, and Poppy was so dazzled she’d nag until Sable ate. Sombrely, an aching emptiness where her heart should be, she watched him leave the room.
What kind of hypnotic spell had Kain enmeshed her in? Even when she was furious with him she still wanted him.
There could be no future for them. OK, so the mystery of the diamond ring had been solved, but that blackmail charge stood between them like a barred gate.
Unless Brent’s artless testimony had changed Kain’s opinion of her? It just might, she thought longingly.
And it might not too. Sable had only realised she was free of suspicion during a painful interview with Mr Frensham when he’d—almost—admitted that his grandson had been caught actually contacting another person to blackmail.
Anyway, more than anything, she wanted Kain to believe in her innocence without demanding proof.
Oh, why not cry for the moon? She had a better chance of getting that than expecting Kain to trust her…
She sat down on the bed, eyes travelling to the backpack stuffed with her clothes. It was time she faced facts. This hungry obsession couldn’t be love—surely that was much more gentle, a kinder emotion than the reckless passion that consumed her?
She wasn’t even sure she liked Kain. Not as she liked Brent anyway, who was, she thought with a sad little smile, going to make some extraordinarily fortunate woman a wonderful husband one day.
Apart from all that bitter baggage, she and Kain had absolutely nothing in common. Yet whenever she thought of him her heart sang a wild, primeval song. Just looking at him sent her pulse rate soaring, and although he made her so angry she could barely control herself, he also made her feel more acutely alive than ever before.
And she had to admire his iron-bound sense of honour, his flinty determination to protect his more vulnerable cousin—so many things about him.
Grim
-faced, Sable sorted her clothes back into drawers and the wardrobe. Actually, they did have something in common—fantastic sex. But she was mature enough to know that even though he managed through some unkind quirk of fate and genes to rouse a part of her that had never existed before, a real relationship needed much more than mind-blowing passion.
Firmly repressing memories of interesting conversations with him, she reapplied her lipstick and went out, determined to ignore the simmering heat of repressed passion.
He’d been speaking on the telephone, but he hung up as she came into the room.
Sable looked at him, eyes lingering on the angular alignment of his strong features, the tall, lithe figure and the potent male charisma, and in an instant endured a kind of rearrangement of herself, a massive shift in consciousness.
In that moment, as he looked gravely at her, she knew that all her protestations, her self-serving evasions, meant nothing. She loved him; she would love him until she died.
It was wonderful and it hurt so much she could barely breathe with the glory and the pain—the utter hopelessness—of it.
He said, ‘I owe you an apology. Several, actually, but this is the first one.’
Her brows climbed. She caught her breath and said unevenly, ‘I must admit life with you is never dull—there’s something new every day.’
His smile was part amusement, part cynicism. ‘Enjoy it—I have as little taste as anyone for admitting I’m wrong, but I was wrong when I accused you of accepting the ring from Brent.’
Sweet relief flooded her, but she held it back; the diamond ring had only been a side issue. And one glance at his uncompromising face told her that nothing had really changed. Shrugging, she said, ‘It’s not really important, is it?’
His lashes drooped. ‘I dislike making mistakes.’
‘Is that why you’re sorry? If you are sorry?’
‘I am sorry,’ he said briefly. ‘Extremely sorry. I should have checked further before accusing you.’
What she really wanted to hear was that he didn’t believe her capable of accepting a diamond ring worth thirty thousand dollars from a man she didn’t intend to marry. But that wasn’t going to happen.
A humourless smile twisted her mouth. ‘Apology accepted with about as much reluctance as you made it.’
‘Ungraciously given, ungraciously accepted?’
They measured each other like opponents and then he held out his hand. In quite a different voice, he said, ‘You told me I was the only man to make you so angry—you’re the only woman I’ve ever jumped to so many conclusions about. And for that I’m sorry too.’
She bit her lip and said quietly, ‘I suppose I should say it’s all right, but—it hurt.’
‘I heartily and unconditionally apologise for doing that.’ Before she could say anything he continued, ‘Did you get a phone call from Derek Frensham today?’
Shock robbed her of an answer at first, and when she did speak her voice sounded strangely disconnected, almost detached. ‘Did he ring you too?’
‘Just before I left the office.’
‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry you were bothered by him,’ she said unevenly, nausea chilling her. ‘I suppose he wanted money.’
He shrugged, but that penetrating gaze never left her. ‘He did.’
Sable closed her eyes in mortification. ‘What did he say?’
Almost casually Kain said, ‘He threatened to expose you as a blackmailer and a liar, and me as an idiot who’d been stupid enough to get tangled up with the wrong woman.’
‘Up to his old tricks. I hope you told him to go to hell,’ she said, her voice brittle and strained.
‘Of course.’ He paused, his relentless gaze on her face, then said evenly, ‘Before we go any further with this, tell me exactly what happened when you left school to work for Frensham’s grandfather.’
She bit her lip, afraid to look at him. Only the truth would satisfy him—and she needed to tell him, although she already knew he wouldn’t believe her. ‘Why should I? You told me you didn’t need to listen to my lies, and it doesn’t seem as though you’ve changed your mind. I’d prefer not to discuss it.’
‘I don’t blame you for that,’ he said, ‘but this time there will be no accusations.’
She met his gaze warily, and he went on, ‘You accused me of not listening to you, and you were right. I’m ready to listen now.’
Sable took a deep breath, gathering courage around her like a cloak. This might be her only chance. ‘After my father died I was…lost. I’d always looked after him, you see. Mr Frensham dealt with Dad’s estate—the insurance money. I wanted to use some of it to pay off Dad’s debts, but he’d left it to me on the condition I used it for further education, and Mr Frensham was the executor and wouldn’t release it. The woman who worked for him had just taken maternity leave. I had good computer skills, so he offered me the temporary job. It—came at the right time. I wanted to get a tertiary qualification, and I knew if I saved everything I could just manage to pay off Dad’s debts before the beginning of the academic year.’
She paused, gathering her courage.
‘Go on,’ Kain said calmly.
‘Then Derek came to stay with his grandfather.’ The heat of embarrassment faded into pallor, but she went on steadily, ‘He made a play for me and I was dazzled. We became lovers.’
‘How old was he?’
Astonished, she looked at him, recognised the cold distaste in his eyes, and winced. ‘Late twenties, I think. Perhaps coming up thirty. Why?’
‘He was a swine,’ he said with an aloof lack of expression.
‘Yes, well, as I said, I was flattered.’ Shamed, she dragged in a deep breath. ‘And I desperately needed someone to love right then. He took to coming into the office quite frequently and while he waited for his grandfather to finish with a client he used to rummage around in the files. I told him he shouldn’t, but he just laughed it off and I—I didn’t realise what he was doing.’
She paused, then said abruptly, ‘I was so stupidly besotted I didn’t even tell Mr Frensham. Then…then I was accused of using information from the files to blackmail two of his clients.’ She stopped, took a breath, and controlled her shaking voice. ‘I knew I hadn’t done it, so it could only have been Derek. I was shattered, especially when Mr Frensham didn’t believe me. And of course gossip raced around the district; I think Derek started it, but it was—horrible, especially after the first man Derek approached committed suicide. And I felt guilty too—for not telling Mr Frensham about Derek poking around.’
She stopped, realising that she was wringing her hands. Clenching them, she went on tonelessly, ‘But in the end something happened—I don’t know what—and Mr Frensham told me he no longer believed I had anything to do with it.’
‘What convinced the solicitor that it was his grandson?’ Stone-faced, his voice equally inexpressive, he was watching her closely.
‘I don’t know, but I think—I heard—that Derek had been in trouble before.’
‘What happened afterwards?’ Kain’s tone was coolly implacable.
‘Mr Frensham had a heart attack and died. Derek disappeared. I left and went to Auckland and found myself a job packing shelves in the supermarket. I’ve never been back.’ She finally looked defiantly at him.
Still she could learn nothing from his handsome, unreadable face. His mouth was hard, his whole attitude inflexible.
Wearily she said, ‘I wish you hadn’t got tangled up in the whole nasty business.’
His expression altered a fraction. ‘Do you know where Frensham is?’
On a shudder she said, ‘No. InAuckland, I assume. Why?’
‘It’s just as well,’ he said remotely. ‘If I knew where he was I’d be tempted to track him down and kill him.’
Not daring to believe she’d heard what he said, she stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s quite simple,’ he said, still in that flat, lethal tone. ‘I would very much like to tear
him into small pieces for what he did to you—and what he’s trying to do now. And because I believed the gossip and the scandal too easily—but that’s my guilt, not his.’
Her eyes enormous in her face, Sable felt a faint glow of hope build in her breast.
Kain’s smile was twisted, his expression wry. ‘At least as soon as I realised that you were not a viciously amoral creature intent on stripping Brent of his hard-earned capital gains, I did dig deeper—and got nowhere.’
Despair gripped her hard. ‘I don’t suppose it matters.’
‘Does the name Miss Popham mean anything to you?’
Her eyes, wide and shocked, flew to his flat grey gaze. ‘I—yes, of course. She used to live next door—she was good to me.’
And the wild gossip mill in that small district had fingered the elderly woman as Derek’s second blackmail victim, tongues running riot with whispered surmises about her past.
‘Apparently she heard about my investigator’s questions and has been trying to contact me.’ He was watching her with cool speculation.
Numbly she said, ‘I thought she was dead.’
He gave a short, humourless crack of laughter. ‘Far from it. She’s in a retirement home in Napier.’
Sable felt her head whirl. ‘And what—what did she say?’
‘Nothing—I haven’t spoken to her.’
Sable looked vaguely around, saw a chair, and collapsed into it. A kind of feverish hope tangled her emotions so violently that she could barely ask, ‘Why not?’
He poured her a glass of water and said, ‘Here, drink this.’
And when half of it had gone down he said, ‘I don’t know exactly when I realised that I had the wrong idea about you.’ Without altering the tone, he went on, ‘I do know that if I hadn’t taken one look at you and wanted you so much I could hardly control myself, I’d probably have been much more reasonable about everything.’
He paused, then went on deliberately, ‘My father and mother fought like cat and dog. They adored each other—never looked at anyone else—but they didn’t seem to be able to live happily and serenely together. I grew up in constant turmoil. As soon as I was old enough to think about marriage, I decided I wasn’t going to live like that.’