‘Expect that what?’ demanded Alain.
‘Except that you’re afraid to risk being hurt, so you never really get involved with anyone,’ she finished in a rush.
His grip tightened on her arms and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But instead, he thrust her savagely away and strode across the room.
‘And what made you think I was so cold and hard and self-contained in the first place?’ he demanded, turning back to face her.
A stab of dismay went through her as she saw the smouldering intensity of his gaze. However kind Alain might be in an emergency, it was clear that nothing had really changed between them. His contempt for her was as bitter as ever.
‘Well, what was it?’ he snapped.
Biting her lip, she struggled to explain. But at the mere thought of that hideous scene six years before, her nerve failed her. She could not even bear to mention it for fear of reawakening his anger.
‘I-I don’t know,’ she stammered lamely.
‘Don’t lie, Claire,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘It’s because of what I said to you when I found out about Marcel, isn’t it?’
At the mere mention of that name, she winced and turned her head as if he had struck her.
‘Don’t mention him,’ she begged hoarsely. ‘Please. I can’t bear it.’
His gaze held hers, brooding and relentless.
‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘Are you still in love with him?’
Claire felt the old, familiar horror rise inside her. Her whole body stiffened and she made an angry, convulsive gesture with one hand, as if she could push the memories away.
‘No, of course not!’ she said through her teeth. ‘After six years, how could I keep loving someone who hurt me so badly?’
‘It’s not impossible,’ replied Alain grimly. ‘But am I to assume that you now regard the whole thing as a sordid little encounter which should never have happened?’
‘Yes,’ choked Claire.
‘Then why did you think that what I did was so cruel, so unreasonable?’ demanded Alain.
Her eyes filled with stinging tears.
‘I’ll cry if I try to talk about it,’ she warned.
‘So cry,’ he ordered brutally. ‘There are worse things than crying. Worse pain.’
‘OK,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll tell you why.’
She paused for a moment, fighting down tears.
‘You really set yourself up as judge, jury and executioner, didn’t you?’ she accused. ‘Look, I accept that you were shocked and horrified when you found me with Marcel, but you wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. But I honestly didn’t know he was married, Alain, and I felt as if my whole world had fallen apart when you told me. You can’t imagine the heartache, the sense of betrayal I felt when you burst in on us that afternoon.’
‘Oh, yes, I can,’ muttered Alain, half to himself.
‘You can’t!’ cried Claire. ‘All you were thinking about was how upset Louise would be and how angry you were. But you never gave a thought to me, did you? How do you think I felt when I found out that Marcel was married? Whatever you choose to believe, Alain, I was just as much a victim of that man as your sister was. And it didn’t help to have you telling me I’d have to leave the country, not to mention calling me a whore and—’
Her voice broke and she pressed her fist against her mouth. Alain watched her in silence for a moment. Then abruptly he crossed the floor and drew her shaking body into his arms.
‘Come here,’ he said roughly.
He held her until her trembling ceased and then drew out a clean handkerchief and dried her eyes.
‘Perhaps I did jump to some hasty conclusions about you,’ he admitted. ‘I certainly wasn’t at my clearest and calmest that day. But I knew your mother’s sister had already invited you to come and stay in Sydney. And I really thought it was best for everybody concerned if you left Tahiti a bit early. Particularly since Louise was due to arrive from Paris at any moment. I thought the whole thing could be far more easily hushed up if you vanished off the island.’
‘Hushed up?’ retorted Claire incredulously. ‘You swore you were going to tell my parents what I’d done.’
Alain gave an exasperated sigh.
‘Well, I probably did,’ he agreed. ‘But you can’t possibly have taken me seriously!’
‘Can’t I?’ flashed back Claire. ‘I spent weeks crying myself to sleep every night in Sydney, terrified that my parents were going to ring up and disown me. And, even when I finally got over that fear, I still couldn’t face going home to Tahiti. I was so scared of you.’
Alain snorted.
‘You don’t seriously expect me to believe that you stayed away for six years, just because you were frightened to death of me, do you?’ he demanded.
Claire smiled sadly and paced across to the kitchen sink. Restlessly she picked up a glass tumbler, set it down again, placed a perfectly clean teaspoon in the washingup water.
‘Oddly enough,’ she said hoarsely, ‘that’s very close to being the truth. Oh, I eventually realised that you probably didn’t have the power to get me deported if I came back. But I knew you did have the power to hurt and humiliate me. And my family. So I never thought it was worth the risk until Marie Rose persuaded me.’
Alain was staring at her with disbelief written all over his face.
‘And that’s really why you didn’t come back?’ he asked sceptically.
‘Yes,’ said Claire simply. ‘Why else do you think I would abandon my home and family for so long?’
He let out his breath in an impatient sigh.
‘Because I thought you were so intoxicated with fame and success that you didn’t give a damn about them any more!’ he replied.
Claire flinched.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ muttered Alain, running his fingers through his hair again. ‘The truth is that the whole thing is a hopeless mess. Like some nuclear accident that’s still sending out its poisonous radiation years afterwards. But I don’t think there’s anything to be gained by probing into the past any further, Claire. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but how can I be sure of that?’
Claire clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms. It hurt her unbearably to think that Alain would never trust her again.
‘Can’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt?’ she demanded. ‘Can’t you let go of the past and give us a chance to be friends?’
‘Friends?’ echoed Alain in an odd voice. ‘I’m not at all sure that I want to be your friend, Claire.’
‘Then what do you want from me?’ she blazed.
He advanced towards her with an intent, glittering look in his eyes and caught her by the arms. Thrusting his face so close to hers that she could see the veins throbbing at his temples, he glared down at her.
‘I don’t know what I want from you,’ he snarled. ‘That’s the whole trouble. But maybe what I want is this.’
His merciless fingers stilled and then tightened. Almost lifting her off her feet with the intensity of his grip, he treated her to a long, demanding kiss. Dizzy with need, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the thrill of his warm mouth on hers, the hard, intoxicating pressure of his arms imprisoning her body. Shivers of sensation coursed through her and, when he sensually stroked the swelling contour of her breast, she whimpered softly and thrust herself against him.
‘Oh, Alain,’ she gasped. ‘Alain, Alain.’
Conscious only of the shallow rhythm of their mingled breathing, Claire lifted her mouth to his. He kissed her again with a ferocity that terrified and exalted her. She felt his muscles bunch and harden beneath the skin as he hauled her against him and a throbbing ache of desire spread through her loins. At that moment he could have taken her and she would have offered no resistance, would have gloried in her surrender, but he did not do it. Instead, with a sharp, sudden intake of breath, he thrust her away from him.
Her eyes flew open a
nd she stared at him. His face looked dark and strange and she could not read his expression.
‘No. Not now. Not here,’ he muttered, striding away from her towards the door.
‘Alain, wait!’ she cried.
He turned and stared at her with stormy, blue eyes.
‘Well?’ he demanded.
A tremor of misgiving went through her.
‘Can we be friends?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘Friends?’ His laugh was harsh, ugly, tormented. ‘Yes, I suppose you could say so.’
She darted after him and clutched his arm, possessed by a sudden fear that she would never see him again.
‘Then you’ll be coming back?’ she persisted.
‘Oh, yes,’ he growled. ‘I’ll be coming back. It seems your attraction is just as potent as it ever was.’
Left alone, Claire sank down into a chair and buried her face in her hands. Her lips still tingled from Alain’s kiss and her whole body felt as if it were on fire with longing. Yet this aching sense of need brought her little joy. From the first moment Alain had met her at the airport, she had felt a current of physical tension between them, as unpredictable and dramatic as summer lightning. Claire had tried to dismiss it as mere lust, the random spark of attraction that could blaze so violently between man and woman and mean so little. But now she felt with bitter certainty that it was more than that, at least for her. She loved Alain Charpentier and she wanted love in return. A deep, powerful, total commitment that would allow them to weather the storms of life side by side. Not just a meaningless sexual encounter, however intense. But was Alain likely to offer her that commitment?
‘Of course not!’ she said aloud, slamming her hands down on the table and rising to her feet. ‘Don’t be such a fool, Claire! He doesn’t love you; all he wants to do is jump into bed with you! And all the while, he’s probably planning to marry Nadine anyway. About the only good thing to be said for him is that at least he doesn’t lie about his motives, the way Marcel did.’
Biting her thumb, she paced restlessly across to the window and stared out over the garden and the tranquil lagoon. Her movement caught the attention of the dog, who was lounging in the shade of a bush, licking her paws. Jumping up, the tan mongrel shook herself, picked up a frisbee in her mouth and appeared at the back door, hopefully wagging her tail.
‘No, Sissy!’ said Clair, smiling reluctantly as she looked at the animal through the screen door. ‘I don’t have time to play games. I’ve got to think about important things, like what to do about Alain. And how to get my father’s business affairs in order and whether to get special leave from my job until Papa is better. Or whether to give up my job altogether and just stay here. I can’t play games with you.’
Sissy cocked her head on one side. Her huge, melting brown eyes were full of pathos and she whined reproachfully.
‘Oh, all right then, you little wretch!’ said Claire, giving in. ‘But only for five minutes, mind.’
Somehow, once she was outside throwing the toy for the dog, she felt herself growing gradually calmer. The garden was as beautiful as ever with its blazing orange tulip tree, its tangled hedges of red ginger and yellow hibiscus and the dappled shade beneath the banyan tree. When at last Claire stretched lazily and flung herself into a chair on the patio, some of her misery had dissipated.
‘Maybe it will all work out, Sissy,’ she murmured. ‘Papa will get better, Alain will realise that I’m not so dreadful after all, Nadine will go back to Paris, I’ll know instinctively what to do about my job and everyone will live happily ever after. Don’t you think so?’
Sissy thrust her soft, damp muzzle into Claire’s hand and whined agreement. Claire chuckled.
‘Well, it’s nice to have someone who thinks I’m wonderful, no matter what,’ she said, fondling the dog’s long, floppy ears. ‘Now I really have got to go and sort out Papa’s business papers before my mother comes home. If I don’t get it organised, I know she’ll insist that I hand everything over to Alain and I’m not prepared to do that. But at least I feel brave enough to tackle it now.’
Yet within half an hour Claire’s bravery had evaporated. Alain was right about her father’s book-keeping system and she had a confused pile of makeshift documents on the desk in front of her. Used envelopes, supermarket dockets, the top of a cereal packet and wrapping paper from some decidedly greasy French fries had all been used to record accounts paid and money received. And no doubt there were more of these impromptu papers scattered around the house. But what troubled Claire more than any of this was a single, beautifully typed, signed and legally witnessed document which showed that Roland Beaumont owed Alain Charpentier more than a million French Pacific francs. With a chill feeling in her stomach, Claire wondered how on earth the debt was ever to be repaid.
It was late afternoon when her mother returned. Claire had been dozing in her room, but woke to the sound of a car pulling up outside. Yawning, she made her way to the front door just in time to see her mother waving vigorously as the car reversed again.
‘Hello, dear,’ said Eve, kissing her cheek. ‘That was your father’s cousin Maea. Wasn’t it sweet of her to give me a lift home? And guess what else? She’s invited me to stay with her until Roland has recovered enough to come home. Then live right near the hospital and it will be so much more convenient for me. She’s coming back later to pick me up.’
‘How is Papa?’ asked Claire, steering her mother inside.
A tremor passed across Eve’s features, then she pressed her lips determinedly together.
‘Much better,’ she said brightly. ‘But of course they can’t be sure that it won’t happen again. Oh, Claire, I don’t know how I’ll manage if it does. If you and Alain hadn’t been here…’
She left the sentence unfinished.
‘Come on, Maman,’ urged Claire. ‘Come and sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
Any thought she might have had about discussing Roland’s debt to Alain vanished instantly from her mind. It was obvious that her mother was close to breaking point and she didn’t want to worry her any further. All the same, she made up her mind to tackle Alain on the subject the next time she saw him.
She did not have long to wait. Ten minutes later, as they sat drinking their tea on the veranda, Alain arrived. Eve jumped up and kissed him on both cheeks.
‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all you did last night,’ she said unsteadily.
‘Nonsense,’ replied Alain, hugging her hard. ‘It was nothing. But how is he, Eve?’
Alain and Claire both listened attentively as Eve recited everything the doctors had told her. At one point she broke off and her eyes filled with tears, but then she recovered enough to explain her plans about staying with Maea.
‘That sounds very sensible,’ agreed Alain. ‘And you’re not to worry about the tour business, Eve. Claire and I have everything under control.’
‘Oh, thank you both,’ sighed Eve. ‘I only wish that Claire could stay on. I know it’s selfish of me to say it, but I’ve missed her dreadfully since she went away and it will be worse now that Marie Rose isn’t here. Still, you’ve got your job to do, pet, and we’re all very proud of the way you do it.’
Claire swallowed the lump that rose in her throat and looked from Alain to her mother. Alain’s eyes were narrowed and watchful and she could make nothing of the brooding look on his face. Yet some inner magnetism drew her so powerfully to him that she almost reached out and touched him. In that moment she knew with painful certainty that if she stayed on in Tahiti she would be taking an enormous risk. Sooner or later the smouldering sexual heat between them would blaze up and she was likely to be very badly hurt. But Marie Rose was right. If she ever wanted to find love, she couldn’t keep running scared for the rest of her life. And, in any case, her mother needed her. In that moment she reached a decision.
‘I’m not going back to Australia,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m giving up my job and staying here.’
; There was a moment’s shocked silence. Then Eve began to protest.
‘Oh, now, sweetheart, I didn’t mean that. I couldn’t ask you to do anything of the kind just because I’m selfish enough to want you here.’
‘You’re not selfish and you’re not asking me to do it,’ replied Claire swiftly. ‘I’m offering and that’s completely different. Anyway I want to stay here. I’m sick of travelling and I always get homesick while I’m away.’
‘But think of the wonderful salary you make,’ urged Eve.
‘I don’t care about the salary!’ cried Claire impatiently.
‘And you’re so famous,’ protested Eve.
‘I’m not interested in being famous!’ retorted Claire. ‘I’m interested in being with the people I love when they need me and in being happy. What’s wrong with that?’
Alain had taken no part in the discussion, but he leant forward in his chair like a spectator at Wimbledon as the volley of discussion flew back and forth. Now he intervened.
‘What will you do if you stay here, Claire?’ he asked.
‘I’ll run Papa’s tours until he’s well enough to do it himself,’ she replied.
Eve sighed.
‘I don’t know, dear,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Of course I’d love to have you here, but I’m afraid you might regret it later. Couldn’t you get special leave from your job, so that you could go back if you changed your mind?’
‘I’ll do it that way if it will make you any happier, Maman,’ agreed Claire. ‘But I’m sure I won’t change my mind.’
At that moment they were interrupted by the toot of a car horn. It was Maea, who had come to fetch Eve. There was a chaotic flurry of activity while Eve packed a bag, then the two older women departed, leaving Alain and Claire alone.
‘Are you seriously planning to give up a high-powered television job and settle permanently in Tahiti?’ asked Alain, frowning at her across the table.
‘Yes,’ said Claire simply.
Now that the decision had finally been made, she felt an amazing sense of lightness and freedom, as if a terrible burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled.
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