Trust Too Much

by Jayne Bauling

The amusement she found in the bright blue eyes strengthened her again.

  ‘Don’t make fun of Babs! She’s only like that because she’s kind, she cares about me, and she got into the habit of mothering me when we were little and poor Angie was never around.’

  She had turned to face the balcony railing, looking out over the shining bay, and Simon came to stand beside her, too close for mental comfort.

  He said curiously, ‘You always believe the best of people, or at least take the charitable view, don’t you? Why?’

  ‘Because it’s usually true.’ It was a slip, the creed a remnant of her old trusting beliefs, because she kept forgetting the new, cautious—suspicious person she wanted to be, so, with some idea of neutralising it, she added antagonistically, ‘Except of you, probably, Simon. What do you want?’

  ‘Don’t rage at me, darling,’ Simon drawled, his hands resting lightly on the top of the railing. ‘I’ve just spent an incredibly boring and frustrating afternoon, trying to make the parting of the ways easy on Loren. Did I have to do it that indirect way? Couldn’t I have been honest with the girl, put her out of her misery once and for all?’

  ‘Why are you asking me?’ Fee demanded sharply. ‘Don’t try to make me an accessory to your bad behaviour. It’s none of my business how you conduct your affairs. It has nothing to do with me.’

  ‘You know it has everything to do with you, Fee,’ he contradicted her quite softly, but she saw his expression harden with resolve. ‘And to please you I was trying to be subtle about getting rid of a superfluous…attachment, let’s call it, since what you’ve termed my brutality upsets you so much, although personally I still believe quick and clean is the best way. I might as well tell you I had to do it that way with Loren in the end. She didn’t understand anything else. I didn’t mention you, although she’ll have to know eventually. Already she’s convinced it’s someone I met at your welcome-home party. Anyway, I won’t be seeing her again.’

  ‘But what are you doing it all for, Simon?’ Fee asked, making it very pointed.

  ‘To uncomplicate my love life,’ he taunted. ‘You wouldn’t want me while I was still involved with another woman, would you? I don’t believe in it myself anyway. I may start seeing someone new while I’m still involved elsewhere, but I never actually start a new affair until I’ve formally ended the previous one.’

  ‘Oh, very moral and upright of you. I don’t want you, full stop, Simon!’ She heard her voice lift with frustration. ‘I don’t even like you, and even if I did I do like myself too much to want to be one of a number. Do you even know how many affairs you’ve had in your life?’

  ‘Probably not nearly as many as people imagine, because while I always look and always will, even when I’m ninety, I don’t always touch.’ His gaze had grown sharp as he half turned towards her. ‘But I see what’s worrying you. No, Fee, I can’t give you the number of my affairs offhand, but I’ve always been careful. There has never been any risk involved—ever.’

  ‘Yes, I think I’ve always guessed that,’ she accepted seriously. ‘You’re too…together, too fond of yourself for anything less.’

  ‘Respect and consideration for the women concerned also comes into it,’ he emphasised gently before grinning irrepressibly. ‘Not to mention my total and annihilating fear of being caught in women’s favourite trap.’

  ‘I’m sure you’d get out of it somehow,’ she predicted waspishly, resentment rising. ‘But the whole question is irrelevant here. Where’s this famous respect and consideration when you break their hearts?’

  ‘Oh, Fee.’ Simon showed her empty hands, the gesture wryly helpless. ‘What can I say? You know I can’t.

  promise eternal devotion—Oh hell, I never mean to

  break their hearts, and I’m sure they all get over it eventually. Love doesn’t last…But if you and I get together, I can only swear I’ll try not to hurt you, and you do know me, so you’ll know what to expect. I’ll never cause you any distress—’

  ‘What are you doing now, then?’ she asked caustically.

  ‘At least I haven’t distressed you by letting anyone else know there’s a personal side to our relationship yet,’ he pointed out coolly. ‘I do know how much you’d hate that at this stage, while your old prejudice against me still exists.’

  Fee hesitated. She supposed that, from Simon, such discretion was almost uniquely considerate, but she wasn’t sure if she believed the reason he had given for it.

  ‘And it has nothing to do with not wanting to look stupid yourself when you either lose interest or…or have to accept defeat?’

  It seemed incredible that she should be saying these things to Simon—of all people. When had he ever been defeated, by anyone? So what hope had she? Oh, he would lose interest soon.

  A spark of wicked enjoyment showed itself in his eyes. ‘But I’m not going to be defeated, Fee.’

  ‘All right, I suppose I should be grateful,’ she offered grudgingly, not really inclined to believe he was being so reticent out of consideration for her, and resentment resurfaced as she reminded herself that there was no need to worry about the possibility of having hurt his feelings when everyone knew he didn’t have any. ‘I know only too well just how badly you can embarrass people—how thorough public humiliation at your hands can be.’

  ‘Are you referring to yourself or others?’

  Abruptly, his voice was freezing, reminding her just how ruthless he could be, and Fee shivered inwardly although she thought perhaps it was a sign that he was already becoming bored, probably because she had just shown her ignorance of the rules by which he liked to play his games. The women he was used to either flirted wittily or were so overwhelmed, they adored dumbly.

  ‘Oh, forget it.’ She dismissed the question, wanting to come across as coolly indifferent, only it came out sounding defiant. ‘It’s irrelevant here because it’s not prejudice, as you’ve just called it, Simon, but actual, factual knowledge.’

  The ensuing silence was unnerving. She could feel Simon studying her, the relentless weight of his attention heating her skin.

  Finally, though, he laughed.

  ‘You do believe in looking on the down side, don’t you, darling?‘ he taunted slightly. ‘All right, I know you’re probably a bit wary since you claim to have spent your life stumbling over women in floods of tears because of me—which I beg leave to doubt, incidentally—but do be realistic. If you think about it, I’ve managed to stay friends with most of the women I’ve been involved with, one way or another. Ismay Compton, for instance. They’ve got over me, forgiven me.’

  ‘There’s no point in any of this,’ Fee snapped. ‘Because I don’t like you, and some of the time I think I really hate you—’

  ‘Then why did you kiss me the way you did?’

  ‘Some kind of stupid chemistry, I suppose.’ She was conscious of sounding a shade too defensive.

  ‘Well, isn’t that what all this is about anyway?’ Simon prompted amusedly.

  ‘It hasn’t lasted, though,’ Fee added bitingly.

  ‘No?’

  He lifted a hand from the balcony railing and she shivered slightly as she felt the back of his fingers against her bare upper arm, rubbing lightly up and down for a moment, the gentle friction creating a warm, weak feeling.

  ‘Just chemistry, that’s all,’ she insisted scathingly, angrily aware of the futility of attempting to deny her reaction to a man of Simon’s experience.

  ‘Yes, and it works both ways. Chemistry,’ Simon repeated musingly as he returned his hand to the railing. ‘People call it by all sorts of names—attraction, desire, love—but chemistry is really all it is.’

  ‘Now that’s really romantic!’ It was drenched in sarcasm. ‘If that’s how you talk to your girlfriends, it’s just a wonder they’re still stupid enough to fall in love with you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m quite capable of giving it other descriptions, such as being in love. It has never been a lie either.’

  ‘But I bet it a
lways comes with a qualification,’ Fee guessed shrewdly. ‘Like—for now, at this time, until you fall in love again.’

  ‘That’s only fair, surely?’ Simon had seemed to be enjoying the debate, but now his face hardened and there was a ruthless diamond brilliance to his eyes. ‘Only once in my life have I ever been unfair—when I was still in my teens, I suppose because I wanted to believe…Hell, I even made promises! She was one of my first girlfriends, and I’ve never forgotten how upset she was, and what a brute I felt when I had to tell her that I’d been fooling myself—and her. She had a right to be upset. None of the others has.’

  ‘Because you’ve made them no promises—because you know that love doesn’t last,’ she derided, striving to mimic the tone in which he usually said it, suddenly and irrationally furious with him, as well as with herself, because she knew his cynical attitude shouldn’t matter to her. ‘How do you know, Simon?’

  ‘What are you so cross about?’ he wondered interestedly, scrutinising her with narrowed eyes. ‘I know through personal experience and scientific observation, Fee.’

  ‘Oh, very scientific! And what personal experience?’ Fee laughed angrily, although somewhere deep in her mind she was appalled to hear herself. ‘You may have been in love a thousand times, but I don’t believe you’ve ever loved!’

  It held him silent for several seconds, at the end of which he gave her an ironic smile. ‘No, I don’t suppose I have, although I think I may have adored once.’

  His tone was so complex that Fee was distracted, her rage subsiding slightly.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked involuntarily.

  He shrugged dismissively. ‘Oh, she’s gone. I let her go.’

  ‘That thing about letting someone go and if they love you they’ll come back to you?’ Inexplicably, Fee felt disturbed by the idea.

  ‘No, nothing like that. I never expected her to come back.’ His brief, reflectively brooding mood had passed, and he was smiling challengingly into her eyes. ‘But we’re not talking about adoration or anything like it here. Let’s call it attraction, since you object to chemistry. I am attracted. I love just looking at you; the contrast between those dark curls and that fair skin, and the way the soft colour comes up into your cheeks—it’s doing it now—and your eyes…I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a dark blue in anyone else…And your mouth, like some bright, sensitive flower—’

  ‘Stop it,’ Fee protested, in real distress now, but not really knowing why.

  Simon looked at her in surprise. ‘Why? Most women adore being told how lovely they are.’

  That was it, of course. He had used that same tone of voice and said similar things to scores of other women.

  ‘Just don’t,’ she insisted tightly.

  He studied her in silence for several seconds before shrugging.

  ‘All right.’ But his brilliant, warm blue eyes sparkled in a way that she distrusted just before he glanced down at the road beneath them. ‘Relax, sweetheart, here’s Charlie to the rescue—and Babs has come along to check up on you too.’

  They went out to help bring in the last few items of furniture and a suitcase of Fee’s clothes, and then the men spent some time following Fee’s directions as to where she wanted the heavier pieces of furniture, after which everyone accepted cold drinks from the compact bar-fridge Fee had borrowed from Charles and Babs until she could buy one of her own.

  Babs grew anxious when Charles suggested it was time he and she were getting home as they were expecting guests.

  ‘Why don’t you come back with us, Fee? I know you got some groceries, but you won’t feel like getting a proper meal for yourself after the day you’ve just spent, all those trips back and forth, and moving furniture around, and you need to eat after so much physical activity. You’ll feel depressed all on your own because you’re tired—especially after having had to work late last night,’ she added with an accusing look at Simon, who gave Fee a look that was far too bland to be innocent.

  ‘She won’t be on her own, Barbara, and nor will she have to feed herself. I’m taking her out to dinner, partly in appreciation of the overtime she gave me last night—No, thanks,’ he added as Babs began to suggest that he also attend the dinner party. ‘That won’t do because I’ve got an ulterior motive, so we wouldn’t be very social. Since Fee couldn’t also work this morning, we’ve got business to discuss—that Macau interest I was telling you about, Chas. Don’t worry, Babs, I’ll take care of her and see she’s safely locked in for the night when I bring her home.’

  He was watching Fee’s furious face, the unholy enjoyment gleaming in his vivid eyes convincing her of his silent inward laughter.

  ‘I’d rather not, thank you, Simon,’ she said ungraciously. ‘We were going to go through the Macau proposals on Monday, and, as Babs says, I’ve had an exhausting day—’

  ‘Which makes you an unfit guest for a dinner party, and yet you need to be fed.’ Simon’s tone was calculating. ‘And think of Babs. She’s not going to be able to relax and enjoy her evening as hostess if she’s worrying about you sitting here all on your own.’

  She should have known that Simon would never fight fair, Fee reflected bitterly. He knew how she adored Babs, who was already looking concerned. The thought of causing her distress and spoiling the pleasure she always took in entertaining was bad enough; but personally she also shrank from the prospect of the curiosity it would excite if she went on protesting. Somehow, as Simon rather surprisingly seemed to sense, she didn’t want Babs and Charles to know she was the current, temporary object of his interest—because it was a humiliating position, making her one of an anonymous crowd, she decided, although she didn’t suppose Simon’s arrogance would let him entertain that as a reason for her instinctive secrecy.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Fee gave in helplessly, but the glance she flung at Simon was sparkling with hatred.

  ‘Great. I’ll come back and fetch you later,’ Simon said.

  ‘Warren Bates is going to be put out if he means to contact you tonight, though.’ Babs had relaxed, satisfied that Fee wasn’t going to be spending a solitary evening. ‘I’d completely forgotten, Fee. He rang this afternoon, so I gave him your number here.’

  ‘Be careful who else you give it to, Babs,’ Simon cautioned with a slight hardening of his features as he glanced at Fee. ‘Bates? That young man shows a distinct tendency to snarl at me whenever I come across him, for some strange reason.’

  ‘He snarls for an excellent reason,’ Fee hissed unguardedly, to which he responded with an ironically enquiring look.

  ‘Oh, we all feel like snarling at you occasionally, Simon,’ Charles joked, preventing any further response to Fee’s little comment, rather to her relief.

  Of course, Simon wouldn’t care how much damage he had done to Warren’s touchy, new-found pride when he had sent him packing at that barbecue four years ago, and he would experience no sympathy or fellow-feeling if he realised. She couldn’t imagine him ever having gone through that agonising stage, even when he was first discovering romance and sex—even with that girl to whom he had confessed to making promises. He would have been as suave and self-assured in his dealings with his very first girlfriend as he was with women now, his sense of his masculine identity absolute and inviolable.

  Nothing ever disconcerted Simon Rhodes.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘THIS absolute silence is reminiscent of the teenage Fee,’ Simon commented teasingly, slanting Fee a wicked glance.

  ‘So sorry,’ she apologised sarcastically.

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ he assured her with one of his most devastatingly charming smiles.

  It aroused her curiosity. ‘I’d have thought you would.’

  ‘Not at all, although I know you’re actually sulking and the old—young—Fee is gone forever. I’ve got mixed feelings about that in fact, but don’t let it bother you.’

  He had called for her in his Rolls-Royce, the chosen car of nearly all Hong Kong’s wealthy, proving that
in some things he could be ultra-conventional. The restaurant to which he had brought her hadn’t existed when Fee had left the Crown Colony but, although new, it was evidently already fashionable as Simon had greeted people at a couple of tables on the way in. Situated on the top floor of one of the island’s skyscrapers, it was encased in glass, commanding a glittering view of the spectacular city.

  Still angry, Fee had taken a minimum of trouble over her appearance, choosing to team a close-fitting black and white top with thin shoulder-straps and horizontal pleating that lay flat across her breasts and was gently gathered to dip slightly between them, with one of her trailing calf-length skirts of silky black inset with irregular lace panels.

  Simon was elegant in a suit. Looking at him, Fee felt tension tightening her stomach as she reflected on nature’s unfairness. With his lifestyle, he ought to have looked at least a little dissipated by now, but at thirty-three that blazing vitality of his was undimmed and still capable of making those around him feel much more alive than they did out of his presence.

  It still worked even when she was furious with him, Fee discovered. There had been no chance to get this new rage out of her system yet because Simon had deliberately denied her an opportunity to get hold of him privately and tell him what she thought of him after so skilfully manipulating her into agreeing to come out to dinner, leaving her flat while Babs and Charles were still there.

  But now that she had the chance to articulate her anger she found herself unable to do so, and most of the talk had come from Simon over the superb dishes and fine wines that were served to them with such civilised style and pace, alongside a compact dance-floor above which a four-piece instrumental band was now playing.

  Troubling her into silence was the disturbance that had added itself to her resentment when the others had finally left her alone to reflect on what had passed between her and Simon that afternoon.

  At the office, where the intensity of his absorption in work precluded all but the minimum of personal exchanges—because she couldn’t flatter herself that he was really complying with the rules that seemed to amuse him so much—she could just about cope with her awareness of him, which was rapidly becoming far more acute than it had been in her teens, but this afternoon—