To her satisfaction, Simon was standing just inside the lounge, close to the door, apparently listening to the breathless chatter of one of the loveliest women Fee had ever seen—only apparently, because his eyes, of a blue that was utterly different from the blue of hers, were roaming the room and lingering typically every time they came to rest on an attractive woman.
Fee felt a surge of sheer excitement as she observed him, like the exhilaration of an adrenalin-rush, but she knew it wasn’t really personal. Simon just had that effect on people generally. In his presence, women sparkled and men were on their mettle, upping the level of their conversation, becoming wittier and cleverer.
He was tall, probably over six feet, and preposterously handsome, exactly as she remembered him although he was in his thirties now and his lifestyle ought to be telling; but there were no signs of dissipation that she could see so far, only the same arrogant enjoyment just touched with a contradictory trace of boredom. Leanly built, he looked elegant but subtly powerful in his immaculate smart-casual clothes, and superbly healthy, skin as tanned and light hair as naturally sun-bleached as ever because, as Fee recalled, he played as enthusiastically as he worked, regularly disappearing to exotic and glamorous pleasure-spots all over the world, usually taking a woman along with him.
The beautifully shaped head turned as if he had sensed her approach and for a second his glance was alert yet simultaneously indifferent, and she remembered how ruthless he could be in his dismissal of people, both men and women, who failed to interest him.
‘May I lurch past you, please?’ she requested limpidly, with a smile for his companion.
‘Fee.’ As recognition lit those bright, warm blue eyes, it was as if all his natural vitality blazed up into full life, touching all those around him, and yet seconds later his expression was hardening, eyes narrowing in cynical appraisal. ‘And look at you, all grown up and home from the wars.’
‘The lynch mob is more like it. How are you, Simon? Don’t worry, I’m quite safe without a drink.’ She showed him her empty hands and gave the woman beside him another smile. ‘Hello, I don’t think I know you, do I?’
‘You heard,’ Simon realised softly, the cynical look vanishing and his slow smile of wicked enjoyment revealing perfectly white and even teeth. ‘And you’re cross with me, but I refuse to apologise as eavesdroppers only ever hear the truth and you were a physical threat to everyone in your vicinity—although, looking at you now and guessing where the glamour comes from, I think that these days I might find one of the collisions in which you specialised somewhat more exciting than I did back then.’
Then, without giving her time to react, he introduced her and Loren Kincaid to each other. A few years older than Fee, Loren was small but exquisitely endowed with perfectly proportioned curves, as well as a shining cap of jet-black hair and huge violet eyes. She had been looking insecure, Fee had noticed, a familiar state among Simon’s women when his gaze started travelling, but now her rosebud mouth relaxed into a genuinely friendly smile, presumably because she had decided that Fee wasn’t to be regarded as a rival for this glamorous, gorgeous but incorrigibly restless man.
‘This party is to welcome you home, isn’t it? I think you did the right thing, Fee, coming back,’ Loren assured her with earnest goodwill. ‘You’ll feel safe here.’
‘Why in the world should she want to feel safe?’ Simon expressed exaggerated astonishment, his gaze probing as it swivelled to Fee. ‘It did occur to me that your stepsister might have a point when she was loyally insisting that you’d been taken advantage of, but that was while I was still visualising the old Fee. Now that I see you, I refuse to believe it. Quite clearly you’ve learnt to take care of yourself and are safe anywhere. Congratulations. You had your fun, pulling one of Australia’s top financiers and then leaving him looking a total prat into the bargain. I imagine you’ve come home to celebrate.’
‘I didn’t pull—’ Fee stopped herself, realising that she was about to sound like the gauche eighteen-year-old she had been when last she had seen him, because that was how he had momentarily made her feel again. ‘I know you’ve never minded it, Simon, but not everyone enjoys seeing their name all over the newspapers, and having lies written about them, and reporters in the garden shouting questions at them every time they open the door to try and go out and buy milk.’
He shrugged indolently. ‘No, I’ve never minded, since just about everything written about me is true. I’ve never had anything to hide.’
‘Or be ashamed of?’ Fee prompted drily.
‘You’re not ashamed of what you did, are you?’ Simon laughed. ‘Don’t be—’
‘I didn’t do anything,’ she interrupted, eyes blazing as she realised that, probably alone among the people here tonight, he believed that she had been as actively responsible as Vance Sheldon for the scandal that had entertained all Australia in recent weeks. ‘Thanks, Loren, I know I’ll be safe here. Excuse me, please, I’d better go and say hello to everyone, especially since this party is supposed to be for me.’
Simon laughed and said something in a low voice to Loren as she left them, trying to make her movements slow and even as it was haste and hesitation which had caused the physical disasters of her teens. The trouble was that somehow Simon had made her feel like a teenager again, all hot and bothered, and yet angry too, especially now that she kept catching him watching her with idly speculative interest as she moved around the room, renewing her acquaintance with old friends and being introduced to strangers.
But at least he hadn’t been kind!
As she had feared, everyone else was very kind, the more tactful pretending that there was nothing out of the ordinary about her homecoming, a few embarrassing her by referring openly to what had happened, and all firmly convinced of her innocence.
It made Simon Rhodes unique. Everyone else still saw her as the child she had been when she had left Hong Kong, Fee realised ruefully, although she wasn’t sure she found Simon’s view of her any more flattering.
At least Warren Bates ought to see her as an adult, having once been romantically interested in her, she reflected wryly, finally placing the young man who was approaching her now, and perhaps as the sort of adult she really was, without making any of Simon’s cynical and gratuitous assumptions.
Once Warren had seemed the most beautiful male creature in the world, and the green eyes with their thick fringe of black lashes still stirred her, but his personality seemed mediocre and somewhat repressed now. He spoke in polite platitudes, only becoming human when he mentioned Simon.
‘I saw you speaking to him when you came in. The man is a swine. I didn’t know he’d be here.’ His tone implied that he wouldn’t have come had he done so.
‘Oh, he and Charles are old friends. Their circle doesn’t seem to have changed much over the years, even if marriage has given most of the women new surnames,’ Fee laughed. ‘That redhead over there used to be Ismay Compton, for instance. She must have got over Simon if she can bear to be here. You have to give him credit for managing to stay friends with most of his ex-girlfriends.’
‘You seem very interested in him.’ Warren sounded resentfully suspicious and, remembering how Simon had once treated him, Fee was contrite.
‘Never mind Simon, tell me what you’ve been doing all these years…Only give me a minute first, please? I think Charles and Babs have forgotten to put any soft drinks out and I’m still too dehydrated from the flight yesterday to risk alcohol. Don’t go away.’
To Fee’s surprise, Loren Kincaid followed her into the kitchen.
‘You mustn’t mind Simon being so nasty to you,’ she told her kindly, examining the drinks Fee was extracting from the fridge and finding nothing of interest. ‘It’s just his way.’
‘Oh, I’m used to him,’ Fee assured her, touched.
‘I’m sure he knows you’re an innocent victim, really. Everyone who knows you says so, and it’s obvious from the newspaper stories—even to me, and Simon says I�
�m an airhead. But I’d better get back to him.’ She laughed bravely. ‘There are too many attractive women around for my liking. He really is awful!’
And in the end Loren would get hurt, just like all the others, Fee reflected drily. Simon was impossible.
Carefully, she carried a tray laden with a variety of non-alcoholic drinks into the large, elegantly furnished lounge and put it down, helping herself to a glass of mineral water as Warren Bates rejoined her. Suddenly she felt tired, and a little depressed, and she glanced longingly out towards the patio beyond the sliding glass doors which stood open.
‘I don’t think I’m really a party animal,’ she confided. ‘Let’s go outside for a minute, and you can tell me all your news. Or are you with someone?’
He wasn’t, so they sat on the stairs leading down to the swimming-pool, talking about simple things that didn’t hurt, and Fee found herself telling him how the house still belonged to her father.
‘It seemed practical for Charles to move in when he and Babs married because they’ll be going to England once his stint in charge of his father’s factories here is up. He used to tell people he was the modern equivalent of a remittance man—’
She broke off, hearing someone else behind them.
‘This isn’t very sociable of you, Fee,’ Simon Rhodes said mockingly. ‘Especially when you’re the guest of honour. Or do you intend to renew your acquaintance with each of us separately? You never much liked crowds, I remember. In that case, your time is up, Bates, and it’s my turn.’
His tone held an undercurrent that was obscurely significant, and Warren glared at him as he stood up, but he wasn’t old enough or sufficiently sure of himself to accept it as a challenge. Fee felt vaguely disappointed in him. She had learnt to fight back, however unsure of herself she might feel inwardly, so why hadn’t Warren?
But simple kindness and the sensitive awareness that any reference to his previous encounter with Simon Rhodes would discomfit him dictated that she wait until he had departed, muttering, before saying tartly, ‘Talk about déjà vu! What have you got against him?’
One of the strangest things about Simon was the way his presence made people feel more alive, she reflected, her tiredness vanishing as he took Warren’s place beside her. He seemed to radiate a kind of energy that affected everyone around him. It was a visible thing, a vibrant blaze that came from within, probably merely a manifestation of his sheer vitality, and highly unfair, because it should have been a sign of great goodness or spirituality, and there was nothing remotely saintly or inspiring about him.
‘Renewing an old acquaintance, or resuming a relationship, Fee?’ Simon settled himself comfortably.
‘There wasn’t any relationship to renew,’ she retorted resentfully. ‘Thanks to you.’
‘And you’re wondering what you missed out on?’ he guessed wickedly. ‘I suppose his youth is what appeals to you after that old man you were involved with in Australia.’
Fee gave him a furious look as the soft light streaming from the house above them showed her that he was only half joking.
‘I suppose it’s inevitable that you should think like that, given your own history, but I think I’m a little more discriminating than you are, Simon,’ she snapped.
‘Where Bates is concerned? Or Sheldon?’ Simon returned mockingly, his lips quirking as he cast her a quick, curious glance. ‘I’m intrigued. Do you really prefer old men, sweetheart, or is it some power game you’re playing, with the final denunciation written into the play before it even gets underway?’
Fee knew he was a cynic, but it was still disconcerting to realise he could believe such things of her.
‘There was nothing between me and Mr Sheldon,’ she insisted tightly.
‘Oh, come on, darling. You were in that hotel room together, weren’t you?’ Simon laughed. ‘All right, it was probably going too far to suspect someone like you of deliberately setting the guy up—not that it doesn’t sound as if he richly deserved it—but why are you so defensive about it all?’
‘You actually think it’s funny, don’t you?’ Fee realised furiously. ‘Why aren’t you disgusted?’
‘Why the hell should I be?’ Simon laughed. ‘You’ve obviously benefited from the experience, and we all have to sow a few wild oats, if I may be utterly trite.’
‘They’re hardly still wild oats at your age,’ she retaliated, grasping eagerly at the chance to change the subject.
‘I’m not quite ready for a retirement resort yet. Thirty-three,’ he drawled lazily.
‘As I said, at your age,’ Fee emphasised sweetly, and added, ‘Loren is nice.’
‘Beautiful,’ Simon agreed, infuriatingly relaxed. ‘But none too bright.’
‘Bright enough to have noticed your roving eye,’ she asserted waspishly.
‘I’m not in any need of advice about my love life, thanks, Fee.’ Abruptly there was a slight but audible edge to his voice, cool and sharp.
‘What has love got to do with it?’ she wondered innocently.
‘Everything. I love women.’
The statement, so outrageous and so simple, silenced Fee for several seconds. It was the absolute, unadorned truth, she realised, and any further explanation of his playboy habits would be superfluous. Simon loved women, so much that he was incapable of loving just one for any length of time, if in fact he ever actually loved them as individuals.
‘You never used to state the obvious,’ she taunted softly.
‘You seemed in some doubt,’ Simon countered derisively. ‘But as I’ve said, it’s your love life that intrigues me right now. Tell me about Sheldon. Were you his personal assistant?’
‘I hadn’t risen quite that high yet. I was assistant to his real assistant, but the position was supposed to lead to promotion eventually.’
Her bright, tender mouth drooped as she recalled the trouble Miss Betancourt had taken, grooming her to be her replacement when she retired in a few years’ time. All for nothing—
‘You must have counted it worth sacrificing since you were prepared to incur Sheldon’s anger by making the thing public knowledge,’ Simon cut into her reflections unsympathetically.
She hadn’t had any choice, unless she had been prepared to let Vance Sheldon rape her, since the Press, so much more cynically suspicious than she, had been on the spot, ready and waiting, eager for drama.
She flung Simon an angrily resentful look as she picked up her glass from beside her on the step and took a sip of mineral water.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she stated tautly. ‘As everyone knows, he fired me or I resigned, depending on which version of the story you believe, so I’ve got more important things to think about, like finding myself another job, and somewhere to live, and a car.’
‘Here in Hong Kong?’ he probed.
‘I think so, yes.’ She couldn’t face going back, although she wasn’t about to reveal her vulnerability by admitting it. ‘Hong Kong is my home. I belong here.’
Simon sent her a glance sparkling with mockery. ‘And you’ll be able to behave as badly as you like within a circle where no one will judge you and make a scandal of it as they seem to have done in Australia, since we all behaved equally badly most of the time. It’s just strange, or perhaps ironic, that you had to go away to become one of us. I like the change, but what happened to the old Fee? Is there any of her left there inside the sophisticated packaging?’
‘There’s hardly likely to be, is there? I’m twenty-two, but on her behalf, since she could never stand up for herself or answer back…Yes, you do all behave badly, especially at these parties, I remember, so why shouldn’t I?’ As she spoke, Fee stood up, still holding her glass, looking down into it for a moment before pouring the remainder of its contents into his lap. ‘Last time was an accident, Simon. This was deliberate, in case you’re in any doubt. Sorry it had to be in the region of both your intellect and your emotions.’
Simon swore, following it with such absolute silence that
she couldn’t resist the temptation to look back as she gained the patio. His shoulders shook, and then she heard his laughter.
‘Oh, you were right, you truly do belong here.’ His amused voice drifted up to her. ‘You’re one of our own. Welcome home, Fee.’
Fleetingly, it gave rise to apprehension which subsided when he made no move to detain her.
She hadn’t felt this good in weeks, Fee realised. The only disconcerting thing about it was that it should be Simon Rhodes, of all people, who had revived her fighting spirit.
CHAPTER TWO
SIGHING, Fee let the newspaper fall to the ground beside the sun-lounger on which she was reclining. None of the positions advertised was exactly inspiring, and likely to add to her difficulties was her intention to be scrupulously discriminating in her choice of boss this time around. She wasn’t risking another Vance Sheldon—never again! On the whole, she was inclined to think that putting her name down with an employment agency might be her best bet. For safety’s sake, she might even opt for temping, she decided, unless she found the perfect boss.
The sun had set but darkness had yet to fall, and it was one of those sultry, gently steaming July evenings she remembered so well from years gone by, the stillness of the air giving all Hong Kong’s island side a dreaming aspect, and yet down in town among the gracefully rearing spires the movement and noise would be as vibrant as ever, equally so over on Kowloonside. But not up here, high above Repulse Bay, blue-white jewel set amid gentle emerald slopes. It was silent here, and soothing.
Her mood of exhilaration hadn’t lasted long after she had tipped her drink into Simon’s lap two evenings ago. She had locked herself into her bedroom, ignoring the people who came and knocked at intervals and eventually falling into the first truly dreamless sleep she had been granted in weeks, despite the sounds of carousing downstairs—because Loren Kincaid had been right. She felt safe here.
Trust Too Much Page 2