by Liz Fielding
‘You’re right, it’s a lovely day, the view is perfect and so is this island.’
‘I’m very glad you think so.’ He grin broadened at her puzzled look. ‘Angus Jameson. Gus to my friends. And I’m glad you like my island.’
‘Your island?’
‘Like Noah, I built an Ark.’
‘All by yourself?’
‘Well, no,’ he admitted. Then, ‘And come to think of it I suppose the bank owns a pretty big chunk of it.’ He looked pensive for a moment before his grin returned, as if it was a permanent fixture that even the thought of banks could not defeat. ‘But not this particular bit,’ he said, indicating the few square feet they occupied, ‘so you’re in no immediate danger.’
Melanie tried to ignore the tiny chill that settled around her heart. Danger from what? ‘Except perhaps from the animals? Where do you keep them?’
‘Animals?’ Then he laughed. ‘Oh, no, this is an Ark for people. They’re more profitable.’
His grin was infectious and Melanie found herself responding. ‘And do they come in two by two as well?’
‘They usually come in that way, but I take no responsibility for how they leave.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get the chance to say hello when you arrived last night,’ he said, hunkering down beside her and offering his hand.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Melanie Devlin.’ Gus Jameson seemed very young to own anything as important as a whole island, even one in hock to the bank. Late-twenties, tanned and fit as a athlete and with the kind of easy-going smile and fair, boyish good looks that invited confidence. ‘Mel,’ she invited. ‘I arrived last night.’ Then she laughed, too. ‘But if you own the place you already know that.’
‘Yes, I do. May I?’ She moved up a little so that he could sit beside her. ‘I hope you’re settling in? Finding everything you need?’
‘Yes, thank you. The cottage is quite beautiful.’
‘You’re sure?’ He looked slightly concerned as if somehow picking up on her uncertainty.
‘Absolutely wonderful,’ she affirmed, making more of an effort.
His mobile face creased into a broad smile. ‘Well, if there’s anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.’
He looked so eager to do her bidding that she felt obliged to put him to the test. ‘Actually, I wondered, do you have a shop? I would like to try my hand at snorkelling but I haven’t any equipment.’
‘There is a boutique in the main building and a kiosk for film and the usual holiday essentials, but you don’t need to buy sports equipment. Just ask at reception and they’ll loan you anything you want. It’s all part of the service.’
‘Really? Well that’s great.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’ He turned and leapt to his feet as someone came up behind them. ‘Good morning, Jack.’
‘Gus,’ he nodded, curtly. ‘I see you’ve already met Melanie.’
‘I was just explaining that she could borrow any sports equipment she wants, snorkelling gear, tennis racquets, whatever, from the hotel,’ he said, enthusiastically. ‘And if you feel like-’
‘If we feel like doing anything as dangerously energetic as playing tennis, we’ll bear it in mind,’ Jack replied, discouragingly, his long fingers curving possessively beneath Melanie’s elbow, urging her to her feet. ‘I thought we were going to meet at the pool, darling?’
‘Right. Well, enjoy your breakfast,’ Gus said, his easy manner suddenly less certain.
‘I’m sure we will,’ Jack said, dismissively.
‘That wasn’t very friendly,’ Mel said, as Jack propelled her towards the dining room.
‘Why should I be friendly?’
She gave a little shrug. ‘I thought you would have wanted to get to know the man. If you’re planning a takeover -’
His brows arched. ‘Is that what I’m doing?’
‘I’m sorry, Jack, but it doesn’t take a lot of working out. You’re not really here on holiday, so you must be giving the place the once-over for one of your famous lightning raids.’
‘You’ve been reading too many financial journals,’ he said, dryly.
‘No, just press the cuttings piling up on your desk.’ His brows rose slightly at that. ‘I have to move them to dust. “Lightning raid” seems to figure fairly frequently.’
‘Well I’m afraid Gregory Tamblin has a very limited vocabulary.’ She stared. ‘Surely you must have noticed that they were all written by the same man? Since you read them all so carefully.’ Then, somewhat disconcertingly, he smiled. ‘You’re a bright girl, Mel, but I promise, whatever I’m planning, I can manage without putting you to the trouble of flirting with Gus Jameson.’
Mel barely hesitated as she reached for a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice from the buffet and filled two glasses. ‘Oh, it was no trouble at all,’ she assured him, passing him a glass of juice. ‘He’s very good looking -’
‘Is he? I hadn’t noticed and frankly, my dear, neither should you. Not on my time. If Mr Jameson wishes to flirt with you he must invite you to stay at his own expense after you’ve worked your notice. For the purposes of this trip, I reserve all rights in that department.’
‘- and he has enormous charm,’ she continued as if Jack hadn’t spoken. She took a sip of juice, smiled appreciatively and sincerely hoped that he’d get the message that she considered him severely lacking in that department.
‘Charm isn’t everything, darling. It certainly doesn’t make him worth pursuing. He might own this island now-’
‘But not for much longer?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Why should I lie?’ he enquired, evenly. He didn’t want Tamblin to believe in his red herring. But it was essential to convince the man’s spies that he did.
‘Well, look at the place...’ - she made a vague gesture at their surroundings and he watched as Melanie looked about her at the rich panelling of the dining room, the furnishings made from exotic tropical woods and the buffet laid out with a variety of fruits to tempt even the most jaded palate - ‘ ...it’s fabulous.’
‘I agree. The island is a prime piece of real estate developed to the highest standards. Unfortunately, the handsome and charming Mr Jameson has a lot to learn about business He’s expanded beyond his means, always a mistake. Fatal during a recession.’
‘I thought the recession was over. Besides, there are always people with money to spend at a place like this.’ She knew loads of people who would absolutely love it. Her father and step-mother to start with. Although right now they were probably wishing they had chosen any other resort in the entire Caribbean to drop in on.
‘I agree. But the competition is fierce. Look around you, darling, The Ark isn’t exactly overloaded, is it?’ In contrast to the night before, the dining room was almost empty.
She refused to concede the point. ‘It’s early. And I imagine a lot of guests take breakfast in their cottage. If Gus had the vision to build this place from scratch he can’t be entirely stupid.’
She seemed genuinely concerned, Jack thought.
Maybe she wasn’t deeply involved enough to know what was going on. It had to have been chance that brought him to her flat to clean up after his brother. And no one could have anticipated the turn of events that would have ended with her accompanying him to The Ark itself.
Yet she knew Latham, worked for the same firm. And Latham would certainly take advantage of the situation whether she knew she was being used or not.
Well, so would he. The harder he seemed to be trying to distract them with his left hand, the more determined they would be to follow his right.
‘It takes more than vision to build an empire, Mel. Good judgment and an element of luck are needed. Mr Jameson’s judgment was always in question and his luck has just run out.’ He didn’t cross his fingers; he knew that Gus would cheerfully forgive him for such slander in a good cause.
On the other hand, if he found Gus gazi
ng into Melanie’s eyes with quite such enthusiasm again, it was doubtful if he would feel much like returning the compliment.
“...his luck has just run out.”
The headline on the newspaper clipping Melanie had picked up in his flat swam unbidden into her head. The journalist had described Jack as a lone wolf hunting down companies in trouble and devouring them without compassion.
‘While you’re going to hit the jackpot. Again.’
‘I make my own luck and I’ve never allowed sentimentality to hamper my judgement. Gus Jameson would have been wise to have sold out last year when a major chain made him an offer...’ - the offer had been real enough, but he’d had the good sense to come to an old friend for advice - ‘...now, well I’m afraid he’ll probably have to settle for considerably less.’
‘That’s immoral!’
‘Shall we sit down?’ he suggested.
‘You don’t have to do this. You could help him.’
‘I am helping him.’
‘By stealing everything he’s worked for?’
His jaw tightened ominously and he had to make a conscious effort to remember why he was at the Ark. Why she was with him.
‘Stealing is an emotive word, Melanie. I imagine The Ark will come pretty expensive even at a cut down, bargain basement price. But maybe you would prefer me to walk away and leave him to the sharks?’ He smiled, mirthlessly. ‘Perhaps you think they’ll be less ruthless than a wolf.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MELANIE gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘Waste all that time and money for nothing? Do you think I’m a complete fool?’
No, anything but a fool. There was only one fool sitting at this table and it wasn’t Melanie Devlin. ‘I think you’ve got a soft heart and an equally soft head when it comes to business.’ And he was beginning to think it was contagious.
There was something about the way Jack said that, that drove any immediate concern for Gus Jameson from her head.
‘Do you mean the co-operative? You said you were impressed with my business plan. You said you’d help.’
So much concern. ‘It’s an elegant piece of work, I grant you.’ That alone should have warned him. ‘You didn’t really write it all by yourself, did you?’
‘It was my idea. I admit I had a little help with the plan.’
‘A little help?’
‘A lot,’ she conceded.
‘Yes, well whether the women you are trying to help will appreciate what you’re doing for them I take leave to doubt. I’ll give it six months before it all falls apart in chaos.’
‘I see. You’ve got me here under false pretences. The minute we get home you’re going to back out aren’t you? Forget everything you said about helping us.’
‘Not at all. I’m not risking my time or money. I’ve done everything you asked. I’ve found your friend a temporary job and my CEO is investigating the situation regarding the property you want to lease. We have a bargain, you and I and I won’t renege on it. But remember what I said. Six months. At the most.’
Jack took his seat opposite her, ordered coffee and Eggs Benedict for both of them, without troubling her for a decision. Normally that kind of high-handedness would have irritated her, but she was too deep in thought to even notice.
Could Jack be right? Could she be making a serious mistake? Paddy and Sharon were totally convinced, raring to go, but what about the others? After all someone had ratted on Paddy.
‘Well?’ Jack finally asked. She sipped her orange juice, raised her left brow a quarter of an inch and waited for him to elaborate. ‘I’m right and you know it.’
‘Nonsense. In six months the whole things will be up and running like clockwork.’
‘If it is I’ll give you a contract.’ Something about the way that Jack was looking at her suddenly that made her nervous. As if he knew he wouldn’t be troubled. As if he knew something that she didn’t.
‘I’ll hold you to that.’ Then, changing the subject, looking around the dining room so that she could avoid his eyes, she said, ‘Do you know what Gus needs here?’
‘Yes, but I have the strongest impression you’re going to tell me anyway.’
She made a dismissive gesture. ‘Publicity. He needs publicity. Some really good publicity.’
Jack nearly choked. Yesterday’s Courier would have dealt with that, although whether Melanie would be so eager to help out when she knew what he’d done, was a moot point.
‘Publicity takes time to get results and he hasn’t got time.’ He had no objection to discussing the situation. If Melanie was thoroughly convinced she would call Latham and tell him. When? She couldn’t use the phone in the cottage or the number would show up on the bill. After breakfast? From reception. Well, Gus would make a note of any numbers she called. ‘And advertising is expensive,’ he added, apparently as an afterthought.
‘I wasn’t talking about advertising. I meant the kind of publicity that money can’t buy. You just have to know the right people.’
How true. ‘Then we must assume he doesn’t know the right people. Whoever they are.’
‘But I do.’ Melanie stopped. About to explain that she knew just how to get The Ark into the papers, get people talking about it, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be a seriously out-of-work actress, incapable of helping herself, let alone anyone else. Jack was swift to remind her of that.
‘I think it would take more than a photograph of you topless on the beach to bring the fashionable hordes clamouring for room at the inn,’ he suggested, rather too complacent about the idea for Mel’s liking.
‘You haven’t seen me topless,’ she said, tartly, remembering Diana’s horrible remark. Well, she had doubtless deserved it. She said some pretty horrible things herself. She glanced out at the marina but there was no sign of Beau or Diana. Just the crew readying the yacht to move out.
‘No? Then who do you think put you to bed last night?’
Melanie turned and stared at Jack for a moment. Then she dismissed his inference as ridiculous. ‘I don’t need to think about it. I’m quite capable of putting myself to bed,’ she declared.
‘Last night? Are you sure?’ She regarded him sourly over the rim of her glass. ‘Do you actually remember?’
‘Of course I remember. Vividly.’ They’d had dinner, danced. Elbows, waists, even cheek to cheek she remembered, her face growing warm at the way she had clung to him, begged him to walk along the beach. Then…
Then? She frowned. Then what? She looked up and saw the way he was looking at her and she knew. ‘You didn’t!’ But even as the words left her mouth she knew it was the truth and she felt herself blush all over as he sat back and regarded her with an insolent grin. ‘How could you?’
‘It seemed a shame to spoil your pretty clothes. I’d hate you to get into trouble with their rightful owner.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘My underwear was my own.’
‘And very pretty, too. Although a touch on the expensive side for a cleaning lady I would have thought. I recall that Tom was rather taken with it, although I have to say that he would have been thoroughly disappointed with your taste in nightwear.’
‘My nightwear is none of his business. Or yours.’ She wanted to slap that self-satisfied grin right off his face. She gave a little gasp. What on earth was the matter with her this morning? It was as if there was some nasty little demon inside her. Besides, Jack would have stopped her before her hand made it half way across the table. But he was still grinning. ‘We seem to have strayed somewhat from the point,’ she said, tartly.
‘Have we? What point?’
‘The Ark. Shall I tell you something about it?’
He sighed. ‘Is there any way to stop you?’
‘No, Jack. But I think you should reconsider your plans. I have a feeling that this particular lamb isn’t quite ready to lie down on your barbecue.’
He didn’t exactly reel back. He merely looked bored with the whole subject. ‘None of them come will
ingly, Mel. But in the end it makes no difference.’
‘Never? Well of course I could be wrong. I just hate to see anyone who’s worked hard to make something special forced to hand it over to the fat cats.’ She smiled. ‘In this case for fat cat you can substitute lean wolf.’
‘Mr Jameson didn’t waste his time talking to you, did he? Maybe he’s heard all about your assets. Perhaps you should be careful he doesn’t try to charm them out of you,’ he warned, with the kind of smile a cat has when it’s just spotted the canary making a break for it.
‘Assets?’
‘You hadn’t forgotten your well-managed portfolio?’ he prompted. ‘You really must try and keep a track of your story or you’ll end up in all kinds of trouble.’
Story? Oh, good grief, her story. She laughed. At least she hoped he would think it was a laugh. It was more a little collapsed sort of noise that escaped from her as she remembered the way she had teased him over dinner the night before. She must have been mad. Without a doubt stark raving mad. Why else would she be here, playing all kinds of dangerous games with Jack Wolfe?
‘I won’t forget,’ she said.
‘It must be difficult,’ he continued, apparently enjoying a little retaliation for her remark about fat cats and lean wolves, ‘never knowing who has your best interests at heart and who is just after your money. Of course if you gave it to Gus Jameson it wouldn’t be trifled away by your fortune hunting lover.’ He raised one dark brow in a quizzical expression. ‘Would it?’
‘Oh, really!’ she exclaimed, heat flying to her cheeks as the whole of the previous evening’s conversation came back like an X-rated nightmare to haunt her. How much champagne had she drunk last night for heaven’s sake? She’d definitely be sticking to orange juice for the rest of this trip and as if to impress herself with the necessity, she took another sip from her glass.
‘Of course trifling might be more fun.’ He was openly laughing at her now.
‘Then what a pity you’re here on business, Jack,’ she said, as the exquisitely prepared Egg Benedict was laid before her.
‘Can I take it from that, Miss Devlin,’ he replied, his voice as slow and smooth as treacle pouring from a spoon, ‘that you’d be more than willing to trifle with me if it would save young Mr Jameson from ruin?’