"Of course I have."
"No," he persisted. "You finished your education and you've become a mature and exquisite young woman."
"You haven't done so badly yourself. Governor of Balinda with a glittering future ahead of you."
"No future unless you're willing to share it with me."
"Not willing," she said, clinging to him. "Desperate. I'll marry you as soon as you want."
"I want you here and now," he said throatily, and pushed her slightly away from him. "But I won't do you out of your white wedding, young Sara."
"Oh, Gavin!" She pulled him against her and began to cry. "I never thought I'd hear anyone call me that again."
"I never thought you'd let me," he said upon her lips. "I've said it so many times in my dreams, and when I woke up and found my bed empty…" Not so gently this time he pushed her away from him and drew her to her feet. "Let's go while I can still let you. I'm due some leave in a month. We can get married in London."
"At Rokebury. I would like you to see my home, Gavin."
"And you must see mine. It's small, of course, but - "
"It's your home," she said swiftly, putting her hand to his mouth, "and that will make it dear to me."
He looked as though he were going to kiss her again, but then shook his head. "If I get you on the sand once more tonight my good intentions will disappear. Come on, young Sara, to bed with you."
"What a lovely suggestion!"
He tweaked her hair. "You haven't grown up so much after all! I remember in Paris you had a disconcerting way of saying the most outrageous things."
"I didn't think they were outrageous," she said with candour. "I meant them, Gavin. I loved you and I wanted to be with you and saw no reason to hide it." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I still feel the same."
"You gave me a hell of a time before admitting it," he said ruefully. "For a while back you really did convince me you'd stopped loving me."
"Would you have let me go?"
"Yes." There was an odd note in his voice and she waited for him to say more, knowing he was trying to put something into words. "Yes, I would," he repeated. "A man can plead his cause so many times and no more. If I hadn't made you believe me this time, I would never have tried again."
"Faint heart doesn't win fair lady," she protested.
"Nor can constant reiteration of the same truth awaken a love which is dead." He was not responding to her humour. "I mean that, Sara. If you'd refused to believe me tonight I would never have said it again. It's important that you understand why."
"I think I do," she said slowly. "It's a question of your pride."
"Much more than pride," he corrected. "It's all a question of the meaning of love. It's a word we all use and we all mean different things when we say it. To me it means trust and belief as well as passion. You could never do anything that would make me lose trust in you. I feel I know you so well that…" He paused and sighed heavily. "But you never trusted me. You were so quick to believe the worst."
"Not any more!" she cried, and put her arms under his jacket and around his waist. "I can't bear to think what would have happened if I hadn't come out to the islands. We would never have met again. You would have married Lydia or someone like her, and I would have been an old maid."
He chuckled. "More likely I would have been a crusty old bachelor while you would have ended up with an American tycoon or a British aristocrat!" He pressed his lips to her hair. "I still think I'm doing you out of great things."
"You're all I want," she whispered.
"I'll make you an Ambassador's wife, Sara. I promise you that."
"I only want you," she reiterated. "Wherever you go, whatever you do, I'll be happy as long as we're together."
Arms entwined, they wandered slowly back across the beach to the villa. "I feel I would like to wake up Aunt Grace and tell her about us," Sara sighed happily. "I would like to wake the world and let it know. Wouldn't you?"
"You are my world."
"Oh, Gavin," she sighed, "I'll never be able to say such wonderful things to you."
"Actions speak as well as words," he reminded her, and hastily stepped back as she lifted up her arms. "Don't try my control any more," he groaned, and warded her off, his teeth gleaming white in a smile, his eyes glinting.
But it was his touch that she remembered long after he had gone, and she lay in bed and thought how miraculously the future had sorted itself out. It was painful to know that four heartbreaking years could have been spared both of them if she had not listened to Helen, and she tried to understand why her stepmother should have wanted to hurt her when they had seemed to be fairly good friends. Hadn't she realised that by saying Gavin was her lover she was destroying all her stepdaughter's dreams? The more Sara considered Helen's actions, the more unbelievably cruel they became.
Not even the following morning, with the sun shining brightly and her spirits high, could she feel any softening of attitude towards her stepmother. Helen had behaved heartlessly and the quicker her father was free of her the better. She shivered, as if even the thought of the woman could spoil her happiness with Gavin. But that was impossible. Her future with Gavin was assured. Their love was strong enough to overcome all obstacles. Happily she went to tell Aunt Grace her wonderful news.
"Good gracious," was that good lady's astonished response. "I must say your Gavin is a fast worker. I rather suspected, from what your father said, that there'd been more than a light-hearted flirtation between the two of you - but I never guessed that it went so deep that you would be proposed to - and accept it - overnight."
"Gavin and I loved each other in Paris," Sara said flatly
"We had a bad quarrel and I ran away."
"Your father said it was something like that."
"My father never knew how much I loved Gavin. Nor did he know the real reason we quarrelled."
"He thought it was a lovers' tiff and that if you cared deeply enough for Gavin you would return to him. When you didn't, he believed you had changed."
"But you suspected that I hadn't. That was why you asked me out here," Sara stated.
"Is that an inspired guess, or are you fishing?"
"I rather think I'm making a statement. You just used your uncertainty over my father as an excuse to make me come."
Grace Rickards blushed and looked considerably younger for it. "Actually I've no doubts whatever about your father. I intend to marry him the moment he's free. If he weren't the Ambassador I would be living with him now!"
"Well, well," Sara blinked. "Wonders will never cease!"
"Passion isn't the prerogative of the young!" came the tart answer.
Sara giggled. "Honestly, Aunt Grace, you're getting more outrageous by the minute!" She poured herself some coffee and happily munched on a piece of toast. "What made you think Gavin still cared for me?" she asked curiously, like all girls in love using any pretext to talk of her beloved.
"The frequent way he referred to you. He made a point of bringing your name into the conversation every time we met, plus the fact that he's the most handsome man I've seen and still a bachelor. If a man of his looks and virile temperament lives like a celibate, then the reason can only be a woman."
Sara remembered Gavin's ardour of the night before and realised the strain he had put upon himself for years. "I love him so much," she said shakily.
"It must have been a dreadful quarrel for you not to have made it up all these years."
"It was," Sara hesitated, but as always the discretion that had been trained in her as a child prevented her from saying what she wanted, and she stared with pretended interest at the huge bowl of fruit on the table. "Gavin and I will be returning to London in a month," she announced. ''I want to get married from Rokebury."
"I suppose that means you would like me to fly back with you?"
"Naturally," said Sara, all wide-eyed innocence. "As you're now my stepmother-to-be, I expect you to organise it all for me."
"
Wretch!" Aunt Grace said happily. "You know nothing would please me more."
CHAPTER TEN
At noon Gavin sent his car to bring Sara to the Governor's Residence, and after they had lunched together he showed her round the house and told her she could make any alterations she wished. "I'm likely to be here for a few years," he said, "certainly long enough to steer the islanders through to independence. So if you want to tear the inside of the place apart and rebuilt it, the option is yours."
"I like it the way it is. We'll need proper nursery quarters, though: at least three rooms and a small kitchen."
He choked on his coffee. "How many children are you planning on having?"
"We will be having," she said calmly, and added: "Four. I suggest we begin as soon as we're married. I mean, you aren't getting any younger, are you?"
"My God!" he said admiringly. "You're a cool customer." Only then did he see the scarlet patches in her cheeks, and he pushed back his chair and strode round to her side of the table to pull her up into his arms. "You aren't cool," he said softly. "You're just the most exciting, adorable, fabulous - "
"Words," she reminded him, "when all I want is action."
He laughed and proceeded to obey her, only drawing back as there was a discreet knock at the door. "Duty," he said briefly. "I'm afraid I must leave you for the rest of the day. But tonight I'm giving a dinner to a trade delegation and there's no reason why you can't be there as my fiancée."
"What a lovely word!" she dimpled.
"Wife is an even better one."
That day set the tenor for the weeks that followed. Gavin spent all his free time with her and even when he Was working, liked to have her with him. "If I can look up from my papers and see you, I feel happy," he explained and, because Sara felt the same, she enjoyed sitting quietly with a book on her lap while he worked on official papers and dealt with a host of problems.
She had written to tell her father her news and had received a cable by return, wishing her and Gavin every happiness. A letter had followed, more specifically stating his pleasure, and only at the end of it had he referred to Helen, who was still refusing to agree to a divorce by consent.
"I can't understand why she's being so spiteful," Grace said bitterly, one afternoon when she and Sara were talking about it. "After all, she was the one to break up the marriage in the first place."
"But she is spiteful," Sara said. "She's that sort of woman."
"I'd like to tell her a few home truths!"
"So would I," Sara replied, and little knew how soon she would be given the opportunity.
That night Gavin was free of all duties and Grace tactfully took herself off to a friend's house and left them both the run of the bungalow. Sara dispensed with the two servants and cooked the dinner herself, glad she had shared her flat for six months with a Cordon Bleu friend. Gavin was an appreciative guest and ate with gusto the sweet and sour spare ribs she prepared, the crisp fried rice with toasted almonds and the delicious flaming crepes suzettes that brought the meal to a triumphant end.
"You'll be wasted as a Governor's wife," he remarked, "unless we sack the chef!"
"I hope we won't have to lead a conventional life all the time," she said seriously.
"Would you like me to give up the Service?"
"What would you do if I said yes?"
"Think about it very carefully. The only trouble is that I'm not equipped for any other career. I was a test pilot, as you know, until I crashed, and I came to this job rather late."
"You've done exceptionally well," she said proudly, "and I'm sure you would do well at anything else you tried. But Father says you have a wonderful future in the Service and I'd feel guilty if I let you give it up."
After they finished dinner Gavin came to the kitchen to help her clear away the dishes. He had taken off his jacket and tie and his half-open shirt disclosed his bronzed throat and the mat of black hairs on his chest. She longed to press her lips to it and the way her eyes rested on him must have given away her thoughts, for he caught her hand and placed it on his body. Pink-cheeked, she pulled away from him and pretended not to hear him laugh softly behind her.
With the dishes cleared away they returned to the verandah and shared one deep chair, where she lay curled up in his arms. She knew her nearness aroused him and though she tried not to be aware of it, the knowledge aroused her too, and soon their good intention not to make love was forgotten as she finally did run her fingers over his broad chest and placed her lips to the soft tangle of hairs that lay there.
"If only we hadn't wasted four years," she whispered. "We could have been an old married couple by now."
"Don't waste time on regrets."
"I can't help it. I shouldn't have refused to speak to you on the telephone." , "I doubt if you would have believed me even if you had spoken to me."
"But I believe you now."
"Because you're four years older and able to listen."
"I'm glad it wasn't you with Helen," she said softly. "I can't bear to think of you with any other woman."
"I haven't been a monk."
"I know that, but I - but as long as I don't know who the women were I don't mind. But to think of you with Helen…"
"She isn't my type," he said briefly. "I don't think she realised it, but - " His voice trailed off, but something in his tone made Sara raise her head and look at him.
"She wanted you, though, didn't she?"
"Forget her," he said, and set himself to make her do it in the best way he knew how.
As his mouth fastened on hers she could think of nothing except this man and his nearness, his masculinity and his gentleness, his passion and his tenderness. Unafraid, she burrowed closer, her soft breasts pressing against the hardness of his chest. With an exclamation he stood up and set her feet first on the ground.
"No," he said thickly. "I'm only human, and we're alone in the bungalow."
"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered.
"Then you should be." He gave her a gentle slap on her behind. "When I make you mine I want it to be legal."
"How old-fashioned you are I"
"I needn't be," he said, and took a step towards her, stopping with a chuckle as he saw her take a swift step back. "Fine words don't make brave girls," he teased, and knowing he had called her bluff she had no option but to laugh.
For the next hour they sat decorously apart, and well before midnight Gavin left. He was leaving Pango airport early next morning to visit the various neighbouring small islands that made up the Balinda group.
"I'm not sure exactly what time I'll be back tomorrow," he said as he kissed her goodnight. "But I'll call you as soon as I get in."
Long after the sound of his car had disappeared into the night Sara thought about him and the future they would share together. If the past four years had changed her they had also changed him, taking away some of his light- heartedness yet giving him an added sensitivity that made him even more aware of her moods than he had been in Paris. For so masculine a man he had a surprising understanding of the way the female mind worked, and in the last few weeks had surprised her by his ability to know what she was thinking and - even more important - what she was feeling. Somehow she did not have the same ability to understand him, and she wondered if this was because he was much older than her. Unquestionably he robbed her of her hard-won sophistication: one look from his gleaming blue eyes and she was lost.
With Gavin away for the whole of the next day, Sara decided to spend it on the beach, and was crossing the hall when the telephone rang. A female voice at the other end asked to speak to Sara Claremont, and even as Sara wondered who it was, she knew the answer. With an enormous effort she kept her voice steady as she said it was Sara Claremont speaking.
"I didn't recognise you." Without question it was Helen, her voice clear and high. "I daresay you're surprised to hear from me?"
"It's rather unexpected," Sara said casually. "How did you know where I was ?"
; "I saw your father last week and he told me. I want to see you, Sara. I'm staying at the Coral Creek."
"I'm afraid I - "
"Don't make excuses, I flew out to talk to you and I'm not going to be put off now."
Sara clutched the receiver. "You came out to see me?"
"Yes. I'm going to have a rest now - I only flew in an hour ago and I'm exhausted! But I'll be up for lunch. Come and have it with me."
"I have other arrangements." Sara did not know why she was bothering to lie. The words had come out instinctively, as if she wanted to put her off her meeting with her stepmother for as long as possible. "We have nothing to say to each other, Helen. I can't think why you want to see me."
"Come along and find out," Helen said abruptly. "I'll expect you after lunch, then."
Sara put down the telephone and stood by the table, shaking. It was here that Grace found her, and she too looked shaken when she heard Helen was on the island.
"There's no point trying to guess what she wants," the older woman said with her usual practicality. "It would have been better for you to have seen her right away. As it is you'll worry yourself to death until you do."
"I have no intention of worrying," Sara replied, but unfortunately could not suit her behaviour to her words. She swam for a long while in the tranquil ocean, but it brought no peace of mind and she toyed with her lunch and was too restless to have a siesta. Long before it was time for her to leave, she was dressed and ready and, borrowing Aunt Grace's car, drove the long way round into town.
The Coral Creek Hotel was on a promontory on the outskirts of the little capital, and Sara parked her car beneath the shade of a palm and then walked across the gaily tiled patio to the foyer. She gave her name to the desk clerk and was immediately told to go up to the first floor where Lady Claremont was expecting her.
It gave Sara a nervous chill to hear Helen referred to in this way, and as she went up the stairs she had to remind herself that the woman was still her father's wife. Trust Helen to have the best, she thought instantly as she entered the lavishly furnished suite and saw the vases of flowers, the champagne in a silver ice bucket and the huge basket of tropical fruit that stood beside it.
Roberta Leigh - Too Young To Love Page 13