The pale chiffon dress was already bobbing over the waves some feet away from shore. Nadine waded out to get it and was soon breast-high in the water, but just as she reached for the dress a big wave came along and lifted it up, took it further away.
'Hell's bells!' she wailed, and heard Sean start to laugh behind her. He was standing on the beach, watching. Crossly Nadine looked round at him. 'Why don't you... ?' she began, then had to shut her mouth as the water lapped at her chin. Gurgling, she realised that she was almost out of her depth. To get her dress now she would have to swim.
She launched herself forward and swam a few ungainly strokes and at last managed to catch the trailing skirt and pull it in tow after her as she swam back to shore.
She waded out, holding the dress at arm's length. It was saturated; she looked at it and could have wept.
'I can't put this back on! How on earth am I going to get back to my room now?' She heard a smothered sound and glared at Sean. 'Oh, you think it's funny, do you?'
He grinned at her. 'If it had happened to someone else you'd laugh, wouldn't you?'
'No!' she lied. 'And, anyway, it hasn't happened to someone else, it has happened to me, and all because of you! Well, you got me into this—you can get me out! You can give me your clothes!'
'Don't be ridiculous!'
'I'm not putting this wet rag back on, and I'm not walking back into the hotel naked!'
Sean looked round. 'I could lend you my shirt...' Then he stopped talking, turned round to each side. 'Where are my clothes?'
Nadine looked around too. There was no sign of his short-sleeved shirt, his white jeans, all the things which he had pulled off in a hurry earlier and flung to one side.
Sean swore. He was staring out over the rolling waves. Nadine followed his stare and saw something white, identified it as his jeans; as she stared it was engulfed in another wave and vanished. Nadine began to laugh wildly.
'This isn't funny!' Sean snapped at her which made her laugh louder.
'If... if...' she stammered through her laughter, 'If this was h... happening to someone else you'd laugh!'
Sean glared for a second, then gave a reluctant grin. But it didn't last long.
'Well, funny or not, how are we going to get back into the hotel?' he demanded. 'I'm not keen on the idea of walking through that lobby like this!'
Neither was Nadine. She bit on her lip, her brow furrowed, trying to think.
For security reasons she always closed her balcony windows before she left her room, and no doubt Sean did, too, as the hotel advised. They couldn't get back in to the hotel any other way; they would have to go through the hotel lobby.
She grimly took her chiffon dress and wrung it out. 'There's no real option,' she muttered, shaking it so that water sprayed in all directions. 'I'll have to put this on!'
'Hey, you're giving me a cold shower!' complained Sean, then suggested, 'If you hang it up for half an hour it might dry off a little!'
She shook her head. 'I don't want to wait half an hour, and I'm wet myself, anyway, so what does it really matter?'
She gingerly put the dress on; not a pleasant task. She had to smooth the wet crumpled layers down over her wet body, and they felt horribly clammy on her skin. She shivered.
Sean gave her an anxious look. 'Are you OK?'
'I feel like a fish, but otherwise I'll survive,' she said drily, relieved to be covered again. She had felt very uneasy not having any clothes on at all. At any minute someone might have wandered down this end of the beach and seen them. 'I'd better get to my room quickly and get out of this dress,' she thought aloud.
As she turned to go Sean caught her arm, the contact reminding her forcibly that although she might now wear clothes Sean didn't; he was still stark naked and that made her very aware of him, very edgy. She lowered her eyes to avoid seeing that powerful body.
'Hey! What about me?' he demanded. 'You've got to get me back into the hotel. I'll lurk in the trees until I see you open your balcony windows, then I'll...' He stopped dead and groaned, then began looking around on the sand in a hurried, agitated way.
'What now?' Nadine nervously asked.
'The key to my room is in the pocket of my jeans!'
She couldn't help laughing again. 'You're kidding!'
'Do I sound as if I am?' he asked through clenched teeth, and she had to admit he didn't.
'Well, now what do we do?' said Nadine helplessly.
Sean thought, scowling. 'They'll have a spare at the reception desk; you'll have to ask them for that when you get your own key.'
'I'm not asking them for a spare key to your room!' she refused flatly. 'They'd be bound to ask awkward questions, such as, "Where is he? What do you want the key for?" And then I'd have to explain that you weren't in the hotel but I wanted to get into your room... can you imagine what they'd think?'
He looked furious. 'All right then, I'll have to sleep in your room tonight!'
The passion had dissolved; they were angry with each other again. Nadine gave him a cold glare.
'Think again! You aren't moving in with me!'
He glared back. 'What do you want me to do? Spend the night on the beach, stark naked?'
'It would serve you right if you did!'
'Thanks!' he said, seething.
'Well, this is all your fault!' she muttered.
Sean's blue eyes narrowed and flashed at her. 'It takes two, you know!'
'Not when one of them simply won't take no for an answer!' she retorted, and saw the mounting rage in his face with sudden alarm. She wasn't feeling up to one of these confrontations with him. Not that she didn't believe this was all Sean's fault, but she simply couldn't face another bitter row.
She was very cold now, the clammy material of her dress moulded to her wet body making her shiver all the time. She was constantly aware of Sean too, naked and much too close, reminding her all the time of their lovemaking a few minutes ago, when what she wanted was to forget the sweetness and agony of being in his arms.
All she wanted now was to get back to the hotel, to her room, to change into something warm and dry and then get into bed and go to sleep.
But she knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep if she knew Sean was out here on the beach all night like that.
'Look, I'll open my balcony windows and throw you out my towelling robe,' she hurriedly conceded.
'Your towelling robe?' he repeated, still glowering at her.
'Well, one towelling robe is much like another— they're sort of unisex, aren't they? You'll be able to walk back into the hotel as if you've been swimming, tell them you've lost your key, and ask for the spare one.'
'Are you blind? I'm half a foot taller than you are. I'll look ridiculous in anything of yours! Not to mention that I'm a completely different shape from you, of course! I'm not walking into the hotel dressed like something from a French farce!'
She could see he had a point. 'Well, what if you don't come in through the front of the hotel, but use my balcony? Only, if anyone sees you they may alert the hotel security people and we could find ourselves in an embarrassing situation.'
'We are in an embarrassing situation!' he muttered, scowling. 'It can't be much worse. You open the windows and chuck me the robe and I'll climb in through your room, and if I'm seen and the hotel security people catch me and ask questions, we'll say we were just playing at being Romeo and Juliet...'
He laughed at his own joke. Nadine didn't.
'I can imagine their faces!' was all she said.
'Who cares what they think?' Sean said with an arrogant shrug of those broad, muscled shoulders.
She looked away, biting her Up. She had already lost her head over him once tonight; she was never doing it again. If only he weren't so sexy. Look at those long, tanned legs... No, she thought, don't look at those long, tanned legs!
'Are you listening?' he asked impatiently and she nodded. He gave her flushed face a suspicious look, but said, 'OK, then once I'm in your room
I'll ring the desk clerk and ask them to come up and open the connecting door between your room and mine.'
She did not want that door open, but she decided to argue about that later, when she was safely in her room and dry and warm again.
'All right,' she said, and hurried away.
The walk back to the hotel was an ordeal. At first the beach was empty, then she ran into a little group of people wandering along by the sea, talking. They stopped talking to stare at her. The two girls in the party giggled. The men mostly grinned.
'You're all wet!' one said.
'Been for a swim in your dress?' asked one of the girls.
Nadine laughed merrily. 'I had a little accident. Fell in the pool. Well, see you later!' She ran on and heard them all laughing and talking behind her. That had given them something to gossip about! She would have breakfast on her balcony tomorrow; she couldn't face the stares over the breakfast table.
She ran through the hotel gardens, avoiding any guests she saw after that, but felt people watching her and raising their eyebrows at the state she was in, and when she hurried into the hotel lobby she found Luc Haines and his wife talking to the reception clerk. Their conversation broke off, they turned to stare in disbelief at Nadine.
'What on earth happened to you?' asked Luc, skating a glance from her dishevelled wet hair down over her dishevelled wet dress to her bare, wet feet.
He was looking amused, but Clarrie's face was anxious. 'Are you OK, Nadine?'
Nadine picked up on Clarrie's tone and realised she was afraid something serious had happened to her, so she managed a weak little smile.
'Oh, I was just larking around by the pool and fell in...'
Luc roared with laughter. 'Happens all the time,' he assured her. 'You look like a bedraggled mermaid...'
Clarrie looked relieved. 'Oh, what a pity, your lovely dress!' she said sympathetically.
'I'm afraid it's ruined,' Nadine said, but Clarrie shook her head eagerly.
'No, no, we can soon get it cleaned. Put it out tomorrow morning and we'll have it looking as good as new for you by tomorrow night.'
'Thanks,' Nadine said, wondering how to explain the tear in the back, where Sean had ripped the dress off her. Flushed, she turned to ask the desk clerk for her key.
'Where's Sean?' Luc asked as the man handed it to her. 'It wasn't him who threw you in the pool, was it?'
Nadine pretended to laugh. 'Not exactly, but I blame him all the same.'
'Why do men always get the blame?' Luc asked ruefully.
'It's usually their fault!' his wife told him. 'And stop chatting to this poor girl so that she can get to her room and change out of her wet clothes!'
Nadine gave her a grateful smile. 'Goodnight, see you tomorrow!'
A minute later she was safely in her room, and as soon as the door was shut she stripped off the wet dress and put on a warm white sweater and a pair of jeans. She was about to get her own towelling robe when she remembered that the hotel provided them in the bathroom.
When she hurried in there she saw two of them on hangers behind the door. One was much larger than the other. It was intended for a man, Nadine realised, reaching for it.
She opened her fiench windows and walked out on to her balcony, stood there looking into the moonlit gardens, and saw Sean after a minute, a pale blur half-hidden by a palm tree. He waved his hand to tell her he was waiting, and Nadine hurled the white robe as far as she could throw it.
Sean darted forward, a running silvery streak, his bare flesh dappled by moonlight. As he came out of the shadows Nadine heard voices, footsteps. Several other guests were strolling out of the gardens towards the hotel.
Sean heard them too. She saw him slide a look sideways, then leap forward, grab up the robe, but not before the newcomers had seen him and stopped talking, indeed stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide and their mouths open.
Sean shouldered into the robe, pretending not to have seen his audience.
Shaking with laughter, Nadine leant on the balcony-rail. Sean coolly walked forward, dropped to one knee and began declaiming, '"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon..."'
Their audience laughed and began to clap. Sean got to his feet and turned to bow. 'Thank you.'
Nadine had had enough. She went back into her room and a moment later Sean joined her.
'I hope you're satisfied,' she hissed at him, 'now that you've made me the laughing stock of the whole hotel!'
'They loved it!' he said with every evidence of satisfaction. 'Think what they can tell their friends when they go home—a private performance of one of Shakespeare's greatest plays by one of the finest actors of his generation!'
'Oh, why so modest?' Nadine said coldly. 'Of any generation, surely!'
'Probably,' he agreed, a little muscle beside his mouth twitching as if he was about to burst out laughing any minute.
'I wonder why he gave up the stage to go into films and became a producer, not an actor?' she asked her nails, inspecting them closely.
Sean gave a long, theatrical sigh. 'All right, I confess—I wasn't really that brilliant on a stage, so I went into films. Maybe it's time I went back to the theatre—I could try directing a play now. I'm sure that my reputation in films would help get me a chance in the theatre. It would ensure publicity, for a start, and then plays don't cost the same sort of money.'
'You don't want to go back to the theatre!' she said, feeling like smacking him for being so defeatist. It was so unlike Sean: he had always been so strong and sure of himself and it disturbed Nadine to see him like this. 'You love making films!'
'Past tense, darling,' he said flippantly. 'Loved it. I can't afford it any more.'
'You will be able to when you get that million back.'
'I'm not taking it!'
Nadine fumed silently for a second, then threw back, 'You let me help when you got started, you borrowed money from me then, why can't you do that again?'
'You were my wife then!'
She gave him a wary look, biting her lip. Did he mean all this, or was he being devious again? 'Well... well, I'm your ex-wife now but surely you can still use my money! You and Larry have always borrowed money wherever you could...'
'That's different,' he shrugged.
'Why, for heaven's sake?' she demanded furiously.
'Because that was strictly business; they expected very high levels of return on their money.'
'You can pay me interest if that's what's bothering you!'
'No, Nadine. I'm not treating you like some city financier. It could never be business between us— it would always be personal. As I said before, I'll only take that money from you if you come with it.'
'Well, don't take it, then!' she snapped. 'Get your key from Reception and get out of my room and my life!'
He gave her a level look, his brows black and jagged, turned and picked up the phone, rang down to Reception.
Nadine went into her bathroom. She felt as if she had a cold coming. Her eyes were stinging and her throat felt as if it was full of salt. She looked grimly at herself in the mirror. You are not going to cry! she told her reflection. He isn't worth it.
Her eyes looked shadowy and glistened as if with unshed tears. You could go back to him, they said to her.
Oh, shut up! she told them.
You want to, her eyes infuriatingly said.
No, I don't, Nadine denied, her mouth as tight as a trap.
Yes, you do, her eyes said, black-rimmed as if in mourning for something, for her, perhaps, or Sean, or lost love, mislaid love, shipwrecked love which had deserved a better chance.
Only a fool would love a man who can be so maddening! she told her reflection.
Her eyes darkened with passion. Fool, they said. Fool.
She crossly bent down to the vanity unit, turned on the tap and splashed cold water on them. As she straightened, reaching for a towel to dry her face with, she heard
voices in her room.
Sean's key had arrived with the desk clerk. She heard the two men laughing. No doubt Seem had made a good story out of losing his key. She hoped it didn't involve her in some way.
She waited until she heard the door close behind the desk clerk then went out, braced for another encounter with Sean, but he had gone. She looked round her room blankly and suddenly felt depressed. She missed him when he wasn't there. She had missed him ever since the day she left him, she had never really got used to living without him, and now that she had been with him for these days at the hotel she knew, with a terrible sinking inside her, that going back to being without him would be even more painful.
He wanted her back, she thought, closing her French windows and shutting out the magical moonlit night. He must be serious, or he wouldn't refuse to take her money unless she came back to him. Maybe she should...
No! she thought, making sure the desk clerk hadn't unlocked the connecting door between their rooms; then she wrote out a breakfast card and hung it on her door before she bolted it, then went into the bathroom to take a shower. Look at his jealous attack on poor, harmless Johnny Crewe, his obvious resentment because she was beginning a new career in TV. It wouldn't work. He hadn't changed. He was still possessive, jealous, demanding, set on getting his own way.
She showered off the salt and sand which had encrusted her body while they were on the beach, shampooed her damp chestnut hair, rinsed it and wrung it out before towelling it lightly, then put on her yellow lawn nightdress, cleaned her teeth, and slid into bed.
She was so exhausted by the events of the evening that she fell asleep almost at once and slept heavily all night and was woken up by the arrival of her breakfast.
She sleepily put on a matching yellow lawn wrap and stumbled to open her door for the room-service waiter, asked him to wheel the table out on to the terrace. When he had gone she splashed water on her face to wake herself up, brushed her hair lightly, and went out on to the terrace to eat the rolls and fruit she had ordered.
The day sparkled: blue sea, blue sky, water sprinklers whirling on the smooth green turf, the sun on the jewel colours of the bougainvillaea, the fretted green leaves of the palm trees whispering in the faint morning breeze. There were bodies in the gleaming blue pool, cleaving the water with gold- tanned arms; people were already lying on the loungers in the garden, their oiled bodies relaxed on spread towels, dark glasses hiding their eyes from the intrusive sun, some with straw hats on their heads.
Charlotte Lamb Page 11