by Anne Mather
Paul was looking very sceptical and Nicola wondered whether she had said anything which might betray her real position. After all, Paul knew Jason quite well, and it was possible he had known about Louise. If he should recognize her resemblance to Louise it might present a very awkward situation particularly as he would then know her story had been all fabrication.
At last, he said: ‘I know my father wants Jason to get married. From time to time he has provided suitable applicants for the position of Mrs. Jason Wilde, but Jason wasn’t having any.’
Nicola flushed. ‘That’s why it’s so wonderful that he should have chosen me,’ she enthused.
Paul pulled a wry face. ‘Hmn! It’s strange he never showed any emotion when you arrived.’
Nicola managed a light smile. ‘Naturally he was shocked, and as he didn’t want our relationship publicized what else could he do? As it is, Sheikh Mohammed has done all this without our consent.’
‘Has he?’ Paul was thoughtful, studying her with an intensity that was rather disturbing. ‘You say you knew Jason when he was in England a year ago? As I recall it, the last time Jason was in England he was having trouble with some woman called Louise Ellison.’
Nicola’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Who—who did you say?’ she asked cautiously.
‘Well, it was something like that,’ said Paul. ‘I know Ellison was her surname. If you and he were so close, how come he was seeing this Ellison woman?’
Nicola shook her head. ‘I—I really don’t know. Did—did you get to meet this—this other woman?’
‘Yeah, I met her. She was once at this club with Jason when I was there myself.’ He lit a cigarette thoughtfully. ‘I never could understand what he saw in her. She wasn’t his type. Flung herself at his head, she did.’
Nicola stiffened. ‘How can you make such an observation?’ she asked coldly.
Paul snorted derisively. ‘Because it turned out she was married, and I know Jason. I may not like him much, he’s too much like Dad, but because of that I know he doesn’t run after married women. She must have run after him.’
Nicola bent her head. ‘I see,’ she said, trying to remain calm.
Paul shrugged. ‘Anyway, you’re a cool one, coming out here like this uninvited. Didn’t it occur to you that Jason might have changed his mind?’
Nicola contained her temper. ‘No,’ she said shortly. ‘That did not occur to me.’
Paul made an indifferent gesture. ‘Anyway, you’re here now, and you seem to have achieved your objective. When was the relationship clinched?’
‘Last night,’ remarked a cool, indolent voice from behind Nicola, and they both looked up into Jason Wilde’s thin face.
Nicola trembled a little. How long had he been standing there? Paul had been so intent on her conversation it was possible he had been there and not been noticed. However, she managed a smile, and said: ‘Have you seen my roses?’ in a casual tone.
Jason took the third seat at the table. ‘Yes,’ he said, nodding. ‘I’ve seen them. They arrived very early. The Sheikh has a special hothouse garden where such blooms flourish. I understand his gardener is French.’
Nicola glanced across at the group of men at the table nearest to theirs. They were eyeing Jason keenly, and she wondered how long this sense of being an oddity would last. She looked at Jason, and then away again when his eyes turned in her direction.
Paul watched their expressions and then got lazily to his feet. ‘Far be it from me to act the gooseberry,’ he remarked laconically. ‘Besides, if I don’t hurry I won’t have time for breakfast.’
‘That’s right,’ agreed Jason coolly, and with a casual salute Paul walked away.
Nicola bent her head, studying her finger-nails intently, and Jason said: ‘As you can see, our “engagement” has caused quite a stir.’
‘Yes.’ Nicola linked her fingers. ‘I’ve gathered that.’
‘And what were you and Paul in such close consultation about? I shouldn’t have thought that was the usual behaviour of a girl newly engaged to be married to another man.’
Nicola’s head jerked up. ‘The men know I came out here with Paul. Surely we’re entitled to be friends.’
‘Okay, so what were you telling him?’
Nicola compressed her lips. ‘If you must know I was telling him that we’d known one another back in England.’ She had to say that. If Paul brought up such a thing with Jason he would be bound to be suspicious unless she got her explanation in first.
‘You told him what?’ Jason stared at her incredulously.
Nicola sighed. ‘Well, obviously, the idea of us getting to know one another a couple of weeks ago and falling in love doesn’t quite fall in with your he-man image, does it?’ she exclaimed. ‘It was far better for me to pretend that you and I were old acquaintances than to plead an instant attraction.’
Jason studied her carefully. ‘All right,’ he said slowly, ‘I’ll buy that. In fact, maybe that’s a good idea. For all the men, I mean. I’ll think about it. As to the rest, I suppose you’re agreed that your best course of action is to return home before Sheikh Abi Ben Abdul Mohammed decides our relationship is less than loving!’
Nicola’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Hell, I told you last night,’ muttered Jason, leaning across the table so that his face was very close to hers.
‘You did a lot of things last night,’ she hissed back at him.
Jason’s tan darkened slightly. ‘Don’t ride me, Nicola,’ he bit out savagely. ‘You can’t fight me!’
His arrogant words combined with Paul’s information of what Jason had implied about her sister were sufficient to infuriate Nicola. ‘Can’t I?’ she asked now in reply to his statement. ‘Why not? What can you threaten me with? So far as everyone here is concerned we’re engaged to be married, or as good as. The fact that the Sheikh hasn’t actually mentioned an engagement in this note doesn’t mean he’s not going to. He’s probably saving that for another occasion. As for Sir Harold Mannering, when he hears the story I should imagine he’ll feel delighted that you’ve finally decided to put an end to your bachelor status!’
Jason’s eyes narrowed. ‘Just what am I supposed to glean from that?’ he asked tautly. ‘That you intend informing Sir Harold Mannering that we’re engaged?’ His tone was derisive.
Nicola traced a pattern on the formica table top with her forefinger. A plan was forming in her mind and she was beginning to realize how she could put it into action. But it was not yet time to become too clever with Jason. He would soon suspect something was up if she became too demanding. Her best plan at the moment was to disarm him, make her position secure, convince him that what she was intending was a reasonable suggestion.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said slowly. ‘You’re very keen to send me back to London and discharge your responsibilities, but have you thought what the possible outcome of that action might be?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re always telling me how Sheikh Mohammed is a very suspicious man. Don’t you think he’ll be exceedingly suspicious if the day after we announce our engagement, our secret engagement, I’m suddenly dispatched back to London like an unwanted package?’
Jason took out his cigarettes and offered her one and when they were both lit he eyed her thoughtfully. ‘I never knew you were so concerned about the company’s affairs,’ he remarked dryly.
Nicola half smiled. ‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ she said easily. ‘You know I’m right.’ She pressed home the advantage. ‘Besides, surely now that we are “engaged”, I’m safe enough.’
Jason shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t get you—I don’t get you at all! I still don’t know why you came out here.’
‘I’ve explained all that,’ replied Nicola, gathering confidence from his puzzlement. Just for a moment she felt a twinge of something like conscience, and something else; something that had to do with the emotions he had a
roused in her the previous evening. A sense of doubt as to her own ability to carry this through without flinching. She couldn’t be feeling sorry for him, could she? Not sorry for Jason Wilde! It was impossible! Nevertheless, she knew that in other circumstances the whole affair might well have ended very differently. Perhaps it was just as well she had Louise to keep in mind. Without that she might have found herself wading through a situation fraught with difficulties. Jason was too attractive, too much of a challenge to any woman, and last night he had proved he was no novice when it came to getting what he wanted. She could recall with a kind of painful pleasure the feel of his hands against her soft skin, the hard length of his body pressed against hers, the possessing hunger of his mouth. She felt a trembling awareness of her own vulnerability. This was no easy task she had set herself. She was beginning to realize that.
‘Well,’ she said now, forcing her thoughts back into less dangerous channels, ‘do you see what I am getting at?’
Jason drew on his cigarette, and lay back in his chair surveying her lazily. There was something indolent and mocking about him and even now she wasn’t certain she had any advantage at all. ‘You want to stay out here, is that right?’ he was asking. ‘Whatever the consequences?’
Nicola shrugged. ‘If you want to put it like that,’ she said shortly.
Jason shook his head. ‘And what about Harold?’
Nicola swallowed hard. ‘I think we should tell him the same story,’ she said.
‘What!’ Jason gazed at her disbelievingly. ‘You can’t seriously expect me to swallow that!’
Nicola moved restlessly. ‘Why not? If you tell him the truth he may insist I return to London at once.’
Jason grimaced, ‘Good God, if I thought that, do you think I wouldn’t tell him?’
Nicola heaved a sigh. He was impossible! Just as she seemed to be making headway he ridiculed all her efforts.
‘Do you know what I think?’ went on Jason coolly. ‘I think this whole situation was engineered between you and Mannering. I think your reasons for coming out here were quite simple—to trap me into a situation where I would be practically duty bound to agree to marry you!’
This was too much!
Nicola rose to her feet. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Wilde,’ she stormed angrily. ‘I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’
Then she became aware of the speculative glances of the whole room, all the men who had stopped eating their breakfasts to watch what was happening, and with a half-sob she turned and ran desperately out of the canteen.
She sped across the compound and reached her bungalow breathless and sobbing. She ran inside, inserted the bolt on the door, and going into her bedroom she flung herself on the bed, tears streaming in angry humiliation down her cheeks.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NICOLA did not leave her room again until the evening of that day. She wasn’t hungry, and as for going into the office, well, she didn’t particularly care whether Jason Wilde’s reports were typed or otherwise. She knew he would probably have left the camp to go about his usual duties, but there would be Graham Wilson to face, and he was bound to be curious about the engagement and the subsequent argument in the canteen.
But by the time night had fallen she knew she could no longer remain in solitary confinement. Sooner or later she would have to face the men, and better to act naturally than skulk away in some corner arousing even more speculation. Even so, it took a great deal of courage to wash and make up her face and do her hair, then walk the few yards to the canteen. She hesitated on the doorstep, but then pushed open the door and went in.
For a moment, conversation lapsed as all eyes turned in her direction, but then the men seemed to sense her embarrassment and for once reacted to it favourably, turning back to their companions and beginning to talk again.
Nicola walked the length of the room to her table, which lately she had occupied alone, and when Graham appeared with some dinner for her she accepted it gratefully. He looked thoughtfully at her, then pulled out the chair opposite and sat down.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked anxiously. ‘You look pretty pale.’
‘I’m fine,’ she replied, more calmly than she was feeling. ‘Wh—where is everybody?’
‘If you mean Jason, he’s not here.’
‘Not—not here?’ she echoed blankly. ‘You mean—not dining here?’
Graham shook his head. ‘No, not just that. He’s left. Gone! Back to London!’
‘What!’ Nicola was horrified. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I mean—he didn’t say anything to me!’
Graham shrugged. ‘I guess you didn’t give him much chance. As I heard it that was quite an argument you had in here with him this morning.’
Nicola’s appetite disappeared. ‘You heard about that?’
‘Of course. Hell, that was quite some blow you dealt him, dashing out of here like the original maiden in distress.’ Graham grimaced. ‘I mean—if you’d wanted to argue with him you might at least have chosen somewhere private.’
Nicola heaved a sigh, and pushed her plate aside. ‘Why has he gone to London, then? Because of that?’
Graham lifted his shoulders. ‘Well, he was on the phone to Sir Harold before he saw you this morning, so I hardly think it’s likely.’
‘I see.’ Nicola’s mind buzzed with the thoughts that this new situation created. Whether Jason’s reasons for going to London were anything to do with her or not it seemed obvious that her name would crop up in the course of his conversations with Sir Harold and then…. She shook her head. He was already suspicious of her reasons for coming here. If Sir Harold regaled him with his own supposedly recent history, Jason would be absolutely livid. Particularly as he knew she was Louise’s sister. Not only might he expose her and jeopardize her job into the bargain, but he might also try to see Louise and get the real truth from her. Nicola didn’t imagine Louise would be able to keep something like that to herself, not if Jason really turned on the pressure.
She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to think, and Graham said, somewhat anxiously: ‘What’s wrong? Heck, Jason will be back in a couple of days. I’m sure everything will turn out all right.’
Nicola managed a weak smile. ‘I wish I could be as certain,’ she murmured disconsolately.
Graham stayed a little longer and then when one of the men beckoned him he excused himself and left her alone. After he had gone, Nicola picked scantily at her dinner and then, rising, left the canteen. Back in her own bungalow, she sat down to try and decide what was the best thing for her to do.
If she stayed here, as obviously Jason expected her to do, and waited for his return, what then? Whether or not he learned the whole truth was really becoming the whole issue, and what he would do when he found out. Her plans seemed to be doomed to failure. True, she was now his fiancée, but she could derive no comfort from that. He had proved by the way he had kissed her the other evening that he had no respect for her, and put in his position any man would have reacted the same. He wasn’t attracted to her, and it didn’t seem as though he ever would be, and she might just as well accept the fact and return home. If she lost her job, what of it? There were always plenty of vacancies for qualified shorthand-typists, and with the secretarial experience she had accrued she had no worries on that score. What did worry her was Louise’s reaction to all this. She had set off with such confidence, such high hopes of giving Mr. Jason Wilde a nasty awakening, but all she had achieved was to make an enemy of him, and aroused within herself an awareness that made the emotion she had felt towards her fiancé, Michael Ellison seem a paltry thing by comparison. Of course, it was not love, she told herself impatiently, it was simply his indifference that had disturbed the balance of her emotions.
She went to bed quite early, and surprisingly slept almost at once. She awoke feeling exhausted, the sunlight outside the room like an inferno that she could not escape.
> But she could escape, she told herself, as she bathed and dressed. There was nothing to keep her in Castanya any longer. She could pack her bags, borrow transport, and be in Gitana by lunch time. There was bound to be a flight today or tomorrow, and she didn’t mind spending a night in a hotel in Gitana. There was quite a good one run by the airline, she could use that.
The decision made, she walked quite jauntily to breakfast, and ignored Graham’s speculative stare, and the stares of the other men. She would have to tell Graham, of course. He would have to obtain transport for her, but she had no intention of telling him in the canteen with the whole crew looking on.
She ate a slice of toast, drank several cups of coffee, and felt ready for anything. Emerging from the building into the morning light, she breathed deeply. It seemed strange to imagine London. It might easily be raining there, people dashing to work through puddles, cars splashing would-be-bus-travellers as they waited in long queues. Of course, right now London would be still and silent, only the street cleaners grinding their way along the gutters.
She sighed. She would be sorry to leave Castanya. It had been an exciting interlude, and one which she would not easily forget.
As she began to walk across to the bungalow to gather her belongings together she heard the pound of hooves as she had once heard before, and swinging round, she saw the group of horsemen enter the streets of the camp. Recognizing Sheikh Ali Ben Abdul Mohammed, Nicola walked hastily towards the bungalow, but he had recognized her heavy swathe of honey-gold hair and came cantering up to her swiftly, preventing her escape.