A swim. That might help her feel more human, and then she could have breakfast.
Five minutes later, Nadine was on her way through the trees to the blue gleam of the pool. By the time she reached it, it was empty. She padded across the marble-tiled surround, dropped her robe on to a lounger, and paused on the edge to dive into the water, which was still a little chill after the night. She swam several lengths, quite fast, then climbed out and put on her robe. It was a good start to the day. She felt much better. In fact, she was starving, so she hurried back to her room, showered again to rinse the chlorine out of her hair, and dressed in a simple yellow sundress, put on white sandals and went in search of a dining-room. Tomorrow she would eat her breakfast on her balcony, she decided, while she watched that miracle of a sunrise again.
She was not the only guest in the large dining- room. A man sat with his back to her behind a potted palm. Nadine hesitated, wondering where to sit, and a waiter arrived, beaming.
'Good morning, ma'am, I am Jacob, your breakfast waiter. Are you alone for breakfast? Would you like a table by a window? Please, sit down, here is a menu. Coffee? Juice? Do you want a cooked breakfast or can I bring you a Continental basket and some fruit?'
He left her reading the large menu while he went to get her a pot of coffee. Nadine enjoyed reading the list of cooked food, but she finally chose a cold meal. The waiter brought her a basket of rolls and breads, and then a bowl full of a mixture of fresh local fruit, some familiar, some she had never seen before. The waiter told her their names. 'This here is naseberry,' he said, pointing to something that looked vaguely like a grey avocado, but had pink flesh. 'This is ackee...' he added, looking at a brilliant scarlet fruit. He broke one open and showed her large, shiny black seeds buried in creamy yellow flesh.
'It looks like scrambled egg!' said Nadine and the waiter nodded.
'It don't taste like it!' He sliced through a round fruit. 'This here is called a star apple.'
'Oh, I've eaten that before, sliced in fruit salads, in England,' said Nadine. 'So that's what it is called—what a lovely name, star apple.'
'Very pretty name, ma'am,' the waiter agreed and left her to enjoy her breakfast while he went to serve some new arrivals, a family: husband, wife and two teenage children all with American accents.
Nadine was feeling much better as she left the dining-room. She looked at her watch and calculated the time in London. She wanted to ring Larry at the office and find out if Sean had shown up yet, but it would be lunchtime in London now, so she would wait a couple of hours.
She consulted the reception clerk about the art classes. 'Mr Haines always gives guests from England a day to recover from the journey before they start classes, madam. Your first class will be at nine o'clock tomorrow, but Mr Haines would like you to join him and your fellow students at a cocktail party this evening, before dinner.'
'Do we dress formally for that?'
'As you choose, madam; there are no rules here. You are on holiday, and we want you to relax and enjoy yourself.' He gave her a glossy brochure. 'All the details are in here.'
Nadine took the brochure back to her room and studied it sitting on her private balcony, watching the blue sky, the blue gleam of the pool, the vividly coloured birds among the lush green palms and bougainvillaea, while she waited to ring London.
She was put through to Larry at once: he sounded very far away and very tired. 'No, we haven't heard a word from him,' he said. 'But I was talking on the phone to an actor in Los Angeles who said he'd seen him there yesterday. I didn't want to start talk so I couldn't be too probing, but I got enough out of the guy to be sure he did see Sean there. So I've got my secretary ringing every good hotel to ask if he's staying there. If he is in LA we'll find him, and when I do I'll kill him for doing this to me!'
'Kill him for me, too,' Nadine said, almost lightheaded with relief for an instant, and then furious with Sean. Typical of him to be so thoughtless, never thinking what his silence might be doing to people who cared about him. He should have known how Larry would worry.
When she had rung off she put on a vivid jade- green all-in-one swimsuit, and over that a filmy multi-coloured beach wrap, then collected a beach- towel, a novel she was reading, her headphones and some tapes, all of which she put into a large wicker basket, and made her way down to the hotel's private beach.
By now other guests were lying on loungers under gold and white striped umbrellas, but there was plenty of room and Nadine was soon stretched out, her skin oiled and glistening, to make sure she didn't overdo the sunbathing, eyes closed, her headphones over her ears, listening to the latest tape of one of her favourite groups. When she was bored with the music she switched it off and listened to the sound of the surf rolling up on the silvery beach, the whisper of the palms, while the sun poured down and made her feel immensely sleepy, in spite of the hours she had slept last night.
That evening she went down to the cocktail party given by Luc Haines, for the members of his art class. There were around a dozen people there; more women than men, noticed Nadine as she hovered by the door.
One of the five men in the room came across to meet her, holding out his hand. 'Hello, I'm Luc Haines.'
'Nadine Carmichael,' she said, shaking hands.
'Nadine,' he repeated. 'A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I'd very much like to paint you, but we'll discuss that later!'
Nadine laughed a little uncertainly—had he recognised her? She couldn't tell from his face. He was a short, broad man with Mediterranean colouring, who looked much younger than she had expected, as she confessed to him.
'But there's a big photo of me in the brochure,' he pointed out, and Nadine hesitated.
'Yes, but... well, I suspected it might be a very old one, they often are, and you're so well known I thought you must have been working for years, and be much older than you looked in that photo,' she blurted out, flushing as he laughed out loud.
'I can see you are a very cynical lady. Remind me, have you had any art training?'
'No, I'm just an interested amateur. I sketch and paint water-colours occasionally. I enjoy it but I know I'm not very good. It's just a hobby.'
'If you enjoy it, that's all that matters. And I'll be the judge of whether or not you're any good. What do you do for a living, Nadine?' He had already announced that first names were always used in his class and she was finding it easy to call him Luc because he was so direct and friendly.
'Well...' She hesitated, frowning. She wasn't surprised or offended because her name obviously meant nothing to him. It was a relief, in fact. It was only in Britain and the States that people saw her on TV in the commercials she had done. Nadine preferred to be anonymous; it meant she met people without them having preconceived ideas about her.
Famous models seemed to have a certain reputation: jet-setting, nightclubbing, hobnobbing with pop stars. That was what people expected if they knew you were a model. Nadine was tempted not to tell Luc Haines the truth, but what if another guest recognised her?
Luc was watching her expectantly, his face curious. 'You prefer not to say? I wonder—is it something exciting, or tedious? Well, never mind, forget I asked. Come and meet your fellow students.'
Nadine was nervous at first, afraid as she shook hands with them one by one, that somebody was going to say, 'But aren't you Nadine Carmichael, the model in that TV ad?'
Nobody did, nor was she pressed to tell them what she did, because Luc said wickedly, 'Nadine prefers to forget real life while she's here, so we won't ask her personal questions, will we?' and everybody looked at Nadine with surprised amusement and laughed.
'Same for me!' several of them chimed, grinning at each other.
'Let's all forget our lives back home,' another younger woman said eagerly. 'Don't you wish you lived here all year round?' and the others all sighed, as if they certainly did. By the end of the evening they had already become a group and were chattering easily to each other as they left the hotel dining-ro
om after an excellent meal.
Nadine went to bed early, still slightly suffering from jet-lag, but also because she wanted to be fresh and full of energy next day. She fell asleep at once and slept heavily.
Towards dawn she had an incredibly vivid dream. In it, she was not divorced from Sean; they were together, in bed, making love. Sean was kissing her throat, making her tremble as she felt the sensuous slide of his naked body against hers.
Nadine moaned, restlessly moving in the bed, beginning to wake up, and as she did so she realised suddenly, with a panic-stricken jolt that woke her up faster, that her dream had not been a dream. She was not alone in the bed. There was a naked body next to hers, a man's body; his mouth was on her throat and his hands were everywhere, caressing her breasts, stroking her softly, intimately, sliding down her thighs.
CHAPTER THREE
NADINE began to scream and at the same time sat up and began scrambling out of bed. The man beside her acted even faster. He grabbed her before she could get away: a hand clamped down over her mouth while he pulled her back down again into the bed, kicking and struggling. He rolled on top of her in spite of her efforts, holding her down with the sheer weight of his body.
Nadine was suffocating, and scared witless with panic: she gasped and choked, trying to see him, but was half blinded by her tangled chestnut hair which had fallen over her eyes.
Her senses told her too many things all at once: the muscled power imposing itself on her, the silken feel of his bare, tanned skin against her own, the salty taste of his palm over her mouth. Through her hair she was getting glimpses of wide, brown shoulders, a strong neck, black hair. A mouth.
She stiffened, lay still, staring up at that mouth: the hard, sardonic curve of the upper lip, the full, sexy promise of the lower one.
'Promise not to scream again,' the mouth said softly.
Nadine bit it.
The mouth swore. The hand was snatched away.
'That damned well hurt, you vicious little cat!'
'Good,' Nadine said, shifting her head on the pillow so that her hair fell back and she could see his face. She wished she could look at him with unmixed dislike, but for some stupid reason she felt an overwhelming relief that he seemed so fit and well. Why are you such a fool? she asked herself angrily, and told Sean aloud, 'Served you right, gagging me like that!'
'I had to, before you woke up the whole hotel!' Typically he was unrepentant, he looked at her as if she was the one being unreasonable, and her teeth met.
'I promise you this much,' she said through her clamped teeth. 'If you don't get off me, and out of my bed, I'll scream so loudly I won't just wake up the hotel, I'll wake up the whole island!'
'Vixen!' he said, but began to slide off her. He didn't exactly hurry, though; his naked body slowly rippled sideways. Like a snake, she thought bitterly. A long, silkily rippling snake uncoiling against her. He was prolonging the contact deliberately, tormenting her, and Nadine wanted to hit him because he knew what he was doing to her, just as she knew only too well that he was sexually aroused.
As soon as she was free to move she did, practically falling off the bed and grabbing up her silk robe from a chair beside the bed, hurriedly sliding her arms into it, aware all the time of Sean watching her from the bed although she had her back to him. Her hands trembled as she pulled the silk belt tight around her waist then she swung round to face him.
'Now, what the hell are you doing in my hotel room?'
'The hotel didn't have another room free,' Sean drawled, stretching lazily under the crumpled sheet. Nadine tried not to look but even half-covered his body was like a magnet to her eyes.
'Then go to another hotel!'
'There isn't one, apparently.' He gave her a bland smile. 'This is a very small island. So, as I was your husband, they gave me a key to your suite.'
'They had no right to do that!' she burst out, quivering with temper. 'Not without checking with me first!'
'It was after midnight, your room was dark, and we thought you might have jet-lag so we didn't want to wake you up,' he said smoothly.
Her hazel eyes glittered furiously. 'You mean you didn't! If they had woken me up I would have told them you aren't my husband any more!'
He ignored the interruption. 'I was able to show them my passport, to prove my identity, of course; but the clincher was when I showed them a snapshot of us on our wedding day, which I happened to have in my wallet.'
'Well, what a coincidence that you happened to have that with you!' Nadine snarled, and he gave her a reproving look.
'You're being very nasty. It must be because you were woken up so early. You see why I didn't want to wake you up last night when I arrived. You would probably have been even nastier. As I said to the reception clerk, I know what you're like if you're woken up when you need a good sleep.'
Nadine seethed. 'Oh, very clever! Well, it won't do you any good. I am not...repeat not...sharing a room with you!'
Sean yawned, deliberately, widely, and stretched again, his arms over his head and his powerful body outlined under the sheet in a way that made Nadine look away, swallowing convulsively.
She babbled to disguise her reaction. 'How you have the nerve to think I would baffles me! You can just get out of here now, and I don't care if there's no other room available. You can sleep on the beach or under a palm tree, or take the next plane back to London! One thing is certain: you are not sharing my room!'
Sean sat up and Nadine's eyes flickered, her face burning with colour as she looked at his broad, gleaming brown shoulders and the dark curling hair growing down to that taut, muscled midriff.
'And get your clothes on!' she muttered.
'OK,' he meekly agreed, and threw back the sheet. Nadine's mouth went dry as her senses registered the full impact of that lithe naked body. It was the first time she had seen him nude for years, and she was horrified to realise that the passage of time had done nothing to diminish his effect on her.
She turned her back again in a hurry and heard him laugh softly. That made her even more furious, then her nerves jumped as he came round the bed towards her.
'What are you doing?' She flung round again to confront him, her eyes wide and dilated as she saw him right next to her.
'Getting dressed,' he said, face innocent. 'I thought that was what you wanted me to do!' He gestured and Nadine looked round in confusion, and saw a pile of clothes on a chair, beside which stood a large suitcase.
'Oh.' Her flush deepened as she felt him silently laughing at her. 'Yes, well, get dressed, then,' she crossly muttered, and walked away, over to the window to open the shutters. Light streamed into the room, the sun was up and the sky already bright blue. Behind her she heard a click. Sean had opened his case. There was the sound of rummaging fingers, telling her he was looking for clean clothes to wear; then the rustle of material as he put something on.
'Can I take a shower?' he asked, and Nadine swung round to glare at him.
'No, you can't!' He hadn't put on clothes at all, she saw, infuriated. 'I haven't had my shower yet,' she told him, 'and anyway, I want you out of here now.'
'Don't be so selfish. I'll only be here one day— I'll be leaving tomorrow.'
'You can leave today.'
'No, I can't,' he said triumphantly. 'There's no boat on a Sunday; the next boat is tomorrow. That's why I arrived so late last night. I flew in on the only plane yesterday and had to spend ages haggling over the hire of a boat because I'd missed the daily run, and there wasn't one coming over here until Monday.'
'Well, the hotel will have to find you a bed somewhere else until then. When I've had my shower and dressed I'll explain to them that you are no longer my husband and you cannot share my room!'
'I did,' he said in those maddeningly reasonable tones. 'Last night.'
Nadine's heart skipped a beat. She suddenly remembered waking up from that dream of Sean making love to her. She stared at him fixedly, her face very hot, her eyes searching his face for clue
s. Exactly what had happened during the night? He had been in bed with her, naked, touching her...for how long? And was that all that had happened? Her dream came back to her in terrifying fragments. Sean kissing her. Sean's mouth on her nipples. Sean... Oh, God, she thought with a pang of rage and distress. Was I dreaming, or did it happen?
He smiled crookedly at her. 'Just like old times!' he drawled, and she lost her temper and flew at him, her hands curled into fists.
'You... you...' She tried to hit him but he caught her wrists and held her at arm's length, struggling and trying to kick him.
'Temper, temper!' It made her even angrier to see the amused satisfaction in his eyes.
'How dared you... how dared you... ?' she hissed, trembling with fury.
'How dared I what?' he asked, pretending to be puzzled. 'Share your bed? What else could I do? I wasn't sleeping on that marble floor. It was a hot night but nobody could sleep on marble. And the chairs were impossible. I suppose I could have slept in the bath, but somehow that didn't occur to me.'
'Of course, it wouldn't!' she snapped.
He ignored that, calmly going on, 'Your bed was kingsize, there was plenty of room, and I was so shattered after travelling all day to get here that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.'
She was tense, watching him like a mouse watching a cat outside its mousehole.
He watched her back, his hard mouth curling in that mocking smile she knew only too well. It warned her. Sean was enjoying himself. But she needed to know. Precisely what had happened last night in that bed?
'Until you woke me up,' he murmured. 'In that very interesting way!'
'What interesting way...?' she began, then swallowed and wished she hadn't asked, scalding colour rushing up her throat and face.
'Don't you remember?' He was having a lot of fun, tantalising her with hints, his eyes gleaming. 'Don't pretend you've forgotten, Nadine!'
Suddenly Nadine decided she didn't want to know after all. The way he was looking at her made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.
Charlotte Lamb Page 4