Rich, Ruthless and Secretly Royal

by Robyn Donald

  She shrugged. ‘Just daydreaming.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said instantly, flushing under his sardonic gaze.

  His beautiful mouth tightened. ‘It didn’t seem a pleasant daydream.’

  ‘Daydreams are pleasant by definition, surely?’ She drank some of her coffee. The excitement he roused in her returned, bringing with it the feeling that everything could work out, that the world was a better place when she was in Kelt’s company. She set the cup down on its saucer and finished, ‘Anything else would be a daymare, and I don’t think there is such a thing.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  HANI said lightly, ‘The thing about daydreams is that we control them, so they’re always wish-fulfilment. Therefore they’re always pleasant.’

  Kelt eased his big body back into the chair. ‘So tell me, what’s your favourite daydream?’

  She stared at him, saw his mouth curve, and said demurely, ‘When I was five it was to be a bareback rider in a circus. I wanted to wear a short, frilly skirt with sequins all over it, and have long, golden hair that floated behind me while I rode a huge white stallion around the ring. What was yours?’

  ‘When I was five?’

  He accepted the coffee from the waitress, a woman who’d given Hani only a perfunctory smile. Her interest in Kelt was obvious, her smile broader and tinged with awareness, her eyes lingering on his hard, handsome face.

  Hani squelched the same unwelcome prickle of jealousy she’d felt when Rosie had kissed him. Darn it, she thought in frustration, she was behaving like an idiot, so caught up in his male physical magic that she’d lost all sense of proportion.

  OK, so he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back, lost in some rapturous wonderland she’d never experienced before. But honing a natural talent to his present expertise probably meant he’d kissed a lot of women. It was just plain stupid to feel that his care for her when she’d been feverish had somehow impressed her body so much it craved his touch.

  ‘When you were five,’ she reminded him once the waitress had reluctantly taken herself off.

  Broad shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. ‘A very boring ambition, nothing as romantic as yours; I wanted to be an astronaut, the first man to stand on Mars. Then I decided that an explorer—Indiana Jones-style—would be even more interesting. We had an old bullocky—a bullock driver—living on Kiwinui then, and he showed me how to use a whip. The first time I got it to crack I thought I’d reached the pinnacle of life’s achievements.’

  When she laughed delightedly, he smiled. ‘That was just before my pirate period, when I roared around the Caribbean on my ship with a loyal crew of desperadoes and gathered vast amounts of treasure.’

  Hani had a sudden glimpse of him as he must have been—always a leader, even as a child, his innate authority bred in him.

  She opened her mouth to tell him that Moraze had an interesting history of fighting against and sometimes in alliance with the corsairs who’d once infested the Indian Ocean. Just in time, she called back the words, but he’d noticed.

  He always noticed, she thought, confused by mixed emotions.

  ‘You were going to say?’ he prompted.

  She summoned a smile. ‘Just that we’ve both proved my point—it’s impossible to have unpleasant daydreams because we always star in them.’

  ‘You have an interesting habit of appearing to be about to speak, only to check yourself and come out with a platitude.’

  His voice was conversational, but when she glanced up at him his eyes were uncomfortably keen.

  She parried, ‘Learnt from experience; teachers who blurt out comments or statements without thinking first can get themselves into trouble.’

  Although he gave her abraded nerves a chance to settle down by steering the conversation into neutral channels, she suspected that every slip of her tongue was filed away in his mind.

  But on the way home he asked, ‘What are your plans if you aren’t able to return to Tukuulu?’

  Tension tightened her skin. ‘I’ll leave making plans for when I’m sure I can’t go back—if that happens.’

  ‘So you’re determined to return if you can?’ At her nod he said with cool detachment, ‘You’re a very dedicated teacher.’

  ‘It’s what I do.’

  Again she endured that penetrating survey. ‘No daydreams of children of your own, a husband, of falling in love?’

  Her chin came up. ‘I could ask you the same question,’ she evaded. ‘After all, you’re quite a bit older than I am.’

  ‘I’m thirty.’

  ‘Well, why—at six years older than I am—are you still single?’

  He looked amused. ‘I haven’t met anyone I’d like to marry.’

  ‘Same with me.’ And that, she thought with a quiver of pain, was yet another lie to add to her list.

  He undercut her momentary triumph by saying, ‘So we’re both unattached.’

  His tone hadn’t altered but something—an edge to his words that hadn’t been there before—set her senses onto full alert. ‘I am,’ she said, holding on to her reserve with determination.

  ‘I am also. Completely.’

  Hani had no idea how to reply to this, or what to do. Was this how he wooed a possible lover, or was he warning her off? Excitement roiled through her in a series of sparks, setting fire to her imagination and her body.

  Why not? Why not follow this wildfire attraction and see where it led?

  Kelt wasn’t like Felipe. She knew that in her innermost heart.

  No, it was impossible. She realised they were passing the stream where she’d seen him digging out the blockage. Felipe would have considered such work degrading.

  Just stop this, she told herself. Stop comparing Kelt to Felipe.

  She said, ‘So none of the women Rosie has comforted meant anything to you?’

  His expression was amused. ‘Rosie is a born exaggerator,’ he said dryly, ‘and you realised that five minutes after meeting her, so don’t use her to back up your decision.’

  A decision? As the car approached the bach, she gathered the courage to say carefully, ‘I’m not sure what’s going on here.’

  He didn’t reply until he’d stopped the car and switched off the engine. His silence was too intimidating, she thought, and scrambled out, turning to face him with her chin held high as he came around the car to stand in front of her.

  His expression unreadable, he asked, ‘How old were you when you went to Tukuulu?’

  After a moment’s hesitation she answered, ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘Barely more than a child,’ he said, frowning. ‘What the hell were your family thinking?’

  ‘I have no family,’ she said, hating the lie.

  ‘And since then you’ve had no relationships?’

  ‘That’s none of your business,’ she said coldly, aware that heat was emphasising her cheekbones.

  ‘In other words you haven’t.’

  Reduced to frustrated silence by his blunt statement, she gave him a haughty glare and started off down the path towards the bach.

  From behind he said deliberately, ‘I’m trying to tell you that I find you very interesting—and very desirable. Did you enjoy being kissed?’

  Keeping her head down, she groped in her bag for the key and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘If I hadn’t I’d have slapped your face.’

  Oh, how banal! Hastily, her skin by now scorching, she found the key and unlocked the door. Without turning her head, she said, ‘But I’m not in the market for a casual affair.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be casual,’ he said mildly enough, and when she lifted her astonished face towards him she saw something like amusement glitter in his eyes.

  Only it wasn’t; her heart quivered in her breast as he smiled down at her with a narrowed intensity.

  Why not? she thought again, unbearably tempted by a passionate longing that urged her to fling away common sense and accept what he was offering.

/>   Even feverish and barely able to see him, she’d been aware of his potent masculine impact, her body responding instinctively and instantly.

  The breath stopped in her throat when she realised that this was already more than simple sexual hunger. Oh, she’d be physically safe, but if she surrendered to this overwhelming need, she’d face a far greater risk—that of losing her heart irretrievably and forever.

  The sudden flash of understanding gave her the strength to pull back. Quietly, steadily, she said, ‘I don’t—I don’t think I’m ready for any sort of relationship right now, Kelt.’

  It was the first time she’d said his name except in her mind.

  He looked at her for too long, his gaze so piercing she had to stop herself from closing her eyes against it, and then he nodded. ‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ he said with a cool smile. ‘And don’t let Rosie talk you into any of her mad schemes.’

  Aching as though she’d been beaten, Hani went inside while he walked down the path. Later that afternoon, Arthur Wellington drove the car down.

  ‘Before he left, Kelt said to tell you it’s fully insured and that you’re to use it as much as you like,’ he said.

  ‘That’s very kind of him.’ She didn’t have any right to ask where Kelt had gone.

  He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘He can certainly be kind,’ he agreed.

  Although the sun shone from a brilliant sky she felt cold and bereft, as though she’d thrown away something of great value.

  But she’d have ended up paying a bitter, lifelong price for passion, she thought, trying to fortify her resolve. Because Kelt had offered her nothing beyond that.

  Even if he had, she’d have been forced to refuse; it was bitterly ironic that Felipe’s death resolved nothing except the fear that had been an ever-present shadow. She couldn’t, with honour, return to Moraze or resume her old life.

  The thought of media attention filled her with horror. Far better to stay dead.

  The next afternoon she drove into town to buy groceries and check Alonso on the internet; although he and his family were easy to find, in all the references and photographs there was nothing that could connect him to Felipe’s circle.

  But even so, she didn’t dare run the risk of him recognising her and remembering her supposed death.

  As Gabby played with leaves and spindrift, and made her first forays into the sea, her mistress tried to map out a future. Without success; her thoughts kept finding their way to Kelt. Unconsciously she’d grown to rely on seeing him, and it was painful to discover just how empty and barren life without him could be.

  Her heart felt like a stone in her breast, and her dreams became forlorn affairs of pain and loss and frantic searching, as though some essential part of her was missing.

  So when Rosie arrived just after lunch one day she greeted her with real pleasure until she started to discuss her plans for the beach party—plans that involved Hani as guest of honour.

  ‘No,’ Hani said firmly.

  After her attempts at persuasion had failed, Rosie pulled a face. ‘You’re just as stubborn as Kelt! He said I wasn’t to bother you, and threatened to call the whole thing off if I asked you to do anything. All I said was that this beach would be wonderful for the party—it’s so pretty and sheltered, and it’s great for swimming—but he vetoed that too. And now Alonso’s gone back home!’

  ‘Kelt’s got this thing about my illness,’ Hani offered, so relieved by this that she felt giddy for a moment. At least she wouldn’t have to skulk around the bach for three months!

  ‘How are you?’ Rosie examined her. ‘You look fine—much better than you did the first time I met you, actually.’

  ‘I feel great.’ Hani smiled. ‘Gabby’s seeing to it that I get a fair amount of exercise, and it’s so beautiful here. I expected the water to be too cold for me, but I love its briskness.’

  ‘Oh—hasn’t Kelt forbidden you to swim alone?’ Rosie sounded surprised.

  ‘No.’ Paddling was as far as she’d got; she hadn’t swum for six years. ‘And I doubt if I’d take much notice of him if he did. Why would he do that?’

  ‘His mother drowned while she was swimming on her own off Homestead Bay. He found her body.’

  ‘Oh, how awful,’ Hani said involuntarily, repressing memories she tried to keep in the darkest recess of her mind. ‘Poor Kelt.’

  ‘Yes. She was a darling.’

  The next day, shopping for groceries, Hani realised that the school holidays must have started. The car parks were full and there were children everywhere, fizzing with a palpable air of enjoyment beside their harried parents.

  Summer holidays, she thought reminiscently, eyeing a small tot in a frilly sundress with an old-fashioned sun bonnet protecting her freckled face—apparently the latest fashion for under-twos here.

  Kelt’s words came to her: ‘—a husband, children…’

  By cutting herself off she’d given up any hope of such a future. In fact, she thought now, she’d simply given up hope. Her attempt to kill herself had failed, but in a way she’d committed emotional suicide.

  For the first time she appreciated the full impact of the decision she’d made at eighteen. As she was convinced that not only had she failed to live up to her brother’s standards, but also that she was a definite threat to him and to the islanders her family had ruled for hundreds of years, the decision had been understandable.

  Now she realised that her shamed self-absorption had prolonged Felipe Gastano’s power over her. And in a way, her refusal to accept Kelt’s delicately worded proposition had been a continuation of that mortification.

  But Felipe was dead. Did she dare emerge from her exile and take what she could from life?

  Even if it couldn’t lead to anything permanent?

  Back at the bach she unpacked her purchases and put them away, then took Gabby for a short run, before curling up on a lounger in the sun, the puppy a sleepy little bundle against her bare legs.

  ‘No, no playing,’ she said, stroking the soft little ears. ‘I have to sort out my thoughts.’

  Her gaze drifted to the top of the tree-clad ridge between her little cove and Homestead Bay. Only a few weeks ago her actions had seemed perfectly logical and sensible—until Kelt woke something inside her, a yearning that had turned her life upside down.

  ‘So instead of just reacting,’ she told Gabby, ‘I need to think this through carefully.’

  Except that it was so easy to let her mind drift off into wonderful daydreams. Ruthlessly banishing them, she began to make mental lists.

  Surely it would be safe to settle in New Zealand? After all, her qualifications were New Zealand ones; that would help her case. And the charity that ran the school on Tukuulu was based here—maybe they’d organise her a job.

  She might even be able to marry…

  No, that was just another daydream, a fantasy like her dreams of being a circus rider. Marriage would involve trusting someone with her secrets.

  ‘Stop right there!’ she said out loud, astonished by her wayward thoughts.

  Gabby woke with a start, and after a lavish yawn that revealed every one of her needle-teeth indicated that she wanted to get down. Once on the ground, she staggered across to drink heartily from her water bowl, then arranged herself in the sun for another nap.

  Not marriage—not that. Not ever. Marriage would mean living a lie, because she couldn’t tell Kelt—any prospective husband—about that sordid episode in her past, and her cowardice.

  But an affair was a different matter. Excitement beat through Hani—sweet, intense, potent. Softly, her eyes on the little dog, she said aloud, ‘I want to know what desire—what passion—is like when there’s no hidden agenda, when the emotions are open and honest and not confused with love.’

  No marriage, no commitment—just a straightforward, uncomplicated relationship between two people who wanted each other and had no reason not to act on that erotic attraction.

  ‘A thoroughly modern af
fair,’ she said into the heavy air, scented by sun and sea and greenery.

  Her breath came faster between her lips, but her voice trailed away. So how did a woman go about indicating to a man—whom she’d already rebuffed—that she wasn’t averse to changing her mind?

  She had no idea.

  But nothing ventured, nothing won.

  A large motorboat swung around the headland and roared into the bay, its huge wake creaming the water before crashing into the rocks at the base of each headland.

  Gabby woke with a start and let off a couple of startled yaps. ‘It’s all right,’ Hani soothed her, picking her up and holding her in her lap. ‘They’ll go as soon as they’ve had a look around.’

  But they didn’t. A few metres off the beach the engine cut and the anchor rattled down. The silence was broken by loud yells as the people on board—all men, she noted—dived over the side.

  With a shock she realised they were naked and the hair on the back of her neck lifted in a primitive intimation of danger.

  She bit her lip. No, she was being foolish. Clearly they thought they were alone in the bay, and on such a glorious day, why not swim naked?

  She took Gabby inside and tried to read, but while the sun eased down the sky her apprehension grew stronger as she listened to the new arrivals’ increasingly raucous yells and laughter.

  She’d made up her mind to ring Arthur when she saw a car heading down the drive. With a sigh of relief she went out to the gate.

  Her relief turned to joy when she realised that the driver was Kelt. One hand clutching the gatepost, she watched him get out of the big farm vehicle, and her heart expanded within her and soared.

  Yes, she thought, giddy with elation, yes, this is what I want. This is right for me now.

  The future could look after itself. She might grieve when this was over, but she’d never regret it.

  After one searching scrutiny he demanded, ‘Have they come ashore?’

  ‘No. No, I’m fine, but I was getting a bit worried.’

  He said austerely, ‘I’ve only just got home. Otherwise I’d have been down sooner.’

  ‘They’re not actually doing anything I could object to, just making a noise,’ she said, adding, ‘But I was about to ring. How did you know they were here?’