Lucifer's Brand

by Nicola West

  Roxanne swung round suddenly from the window, her hair billowing like smoke around her classic features, and Flair immediately lowered her eyes. She felt the other girl's stare and her lips tightened.

  'What's your name?' the American demanded. 'I don't think Luke ever mentioned it.'

  'Flair Pattison. I've only been here a couple of weeks.'

  She looked up again and met the dark eyes. They were watching her with an enigmatic expression— almost, she thought, as if their owner were unsure of something. But that couldn't be so—she'd never met anyone so sure of themselves as Roxanne Ryan. Except Luke Seager himself, of course.

  'Your father's Jeff Pattison, is that right?'

  Flair nodded. 'I've come out on a long visit and wanted to get some further experience in hotel-keeping.'

  Roxanne's deep brown eyes narrowed and her lip lifted in a delicate but unmistakable sneer. 'And perhaps to catch a rich hotelier?'

  'Catch a --? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Miss Ryan.'

  'Oh, don't go all English and prissy on me. You know full well what I mean. O.K., so your daddy's done some work for Luke, some good work too, so he tells me. So you've trained in hotel work. So this looks like a good chance, doesn't it? Come out here— worm your way into a job as his P.A.—and you know what they say. Marry the boss. It all fits in, doesn't it?'

  Flair sat rigid with anger. Controlling her voice with difficulty, she said: 'No, it does not fit in, Miss Ryan! For one thing, I don't think that way. For another, I've no intention of marrying anyone—and if I had, it wouldn't be Luke Seager! I can't think of anything worse—I wouldn't marry him if he were the last man between me and the penguins!' She took a deep breath and added: 'I really can't think why you should suggest these things, Miss Ryan— unless perhaps you wanted the job yourself?'

  Roxanne took a step forward, her smooth face distorted with anger, but before anything else could happen the office door, which Janet hadn't fully closed, swung open and Luke's voice said cheerfully: 'Now, now, girls, don't fight over me. I'm really not worth it.' And as they both whirled to stare at him, he gave them an impudent grin that brought the blood singing to Flair's cheeks as she realised that he must have heard most, if not all, of her last words.

  Discomfited, she dropped her eyes and fiddled with the papers on her desk. But Roxanne was not so easily disturbed. She recovered herself with a speed that Flair had to admire, and flung herself across the room and into his arms.

  'Luke! Darling, you're early—maybe that's because you knew little old me would be here waiting for you,' she crooned, lifting her face to his. 'Honey, it seems an age since I §aw you. You don't know how slowly the time passes—or maybe you do, huh?'

  Flair glanced up from her papers and caught Luke's eye. For a long moment—or maybe it was only seconds—they stared at each other. Then, deliberately and sensually, he gathered Roxanne close against him. He bent his lips to hers and kissed her—a long, intimate kiss, the kind of kiss that doesn't need an audience. His hands moved lingeringly over Roxanne's curves. And Hair, impelled by an overpowering need to be away from their presence, rose quickly to her feet, gathered up a few papers, and stalked with all the dignity she could muster into the tiny room where she kept her typewriter.

  She closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes closed. But the image of Luke and Roxanne persisted. And after a few moments, gathering herself as if she were marching into battle, she sat down at the desk, put a sheet of paper in the typewriter and began to pound the keys.

  It didn't really matter what she typed. But later, when she found the sheet and looked at it, she was totally baffled by the jumble of meaningless letters that covered its surface.

  Luke and Roxanne had gone when Flair finally returned to her office. Presumably they had gone to lunch, though for all she knew they might as easily still be in the suite, in Luke's private quarters; eating together in the small, exquisite dining-room, for instance, or relaxing in the spacious lounge. Or even, she admitted reluctantly, in the bedroom—which Flair herself hadn't even seen but could well imagine. It would be as luxurious as the rest of the hotel, stamped with Luke's own particular sensual masculinity; like sleeping in a jungle, she thought, with an especially dangerous tiger by your side. . . .

  She had almost given up any hope of seeing Luke again that day when he returned, his appearance reminding her again unavoidably of the tiger as he came through the door like a great cat on the prowl. He had a glow of satisfaction about him, too; wherever he and Roxanne had been, Flair thought, he'd certainly had the cream. . . . She stood up abruptly as he approached her and backed away towards the small office.

  'I was just about to leave, Mr Seager,' she said, her voice tight. 'I'll just tidy up my papers. Unless there's anything else you want?'

  Immediately, as Luke Seager's eyes narrowed and roamed up and down the length of her body, she wished she hadn't said that. But all he said, after a nod that might have meant anything, was: 'That's fine, Flair. You get off as soon as you can. I meant to ring and tell you to go early, anyway.' He paused, while Flair wondered what was coming next. 'You'll be making an early start tomorrow, after all,' he went on levelly. 'I want to make that trip to Blue Island we've talked about.'

  Flair stared at him. 'Blue Island? Tomorrow?'

  'Yeah, why not?' His drawl was always more pronounced when he was amused and, to her irritation, he seemed often to be amused by her. 'There's no reason why we shouldn't take off. Nothing urgent to do here, is there?'

  'No, but—well, couldn't you have given me more warning?' she asked. 'I mean, springing it on me like this—I might have all sorts of plans, social engagements, anything. I ‑'

  'And have you?' he enquired. 'Plans, social engagements? I didn't realise you'd got such an active social life going in the—what is it?—fortnight you've been here.'

  'Well, no, I haven't,' she admitted. 'But that's not the point –'

  'It's the only point that concerns me. Look, if it wasn't for your circumstances with your father I'd be wanting you to live in here, Flair. My last P.A. did, and it'd be a damn sight more convenient if you did too. So don't say I haven't made allowances. But all the same, time's money to me and if I say I want to take a trip somewhere and need you along, then I expect you to be free to come, get it? So when you start this hectic social whirl you're obviously expecting to get going, you just remember that and plan accordingly, O.K.?'

  'I see!' Flair exclaimed. 'You pay me a salary and that means you've bought me body and soul. I do apologise—I didn't notice that clause in my contract.'

  The startling blue of his eyes darkened at that, and he took a step towards her. Flair, alarmed, moved quickly but he moved faster. His hand caught her wrist and held it painfully and he drew her closer, his eyes like ice in the sunburnt face. Flair turned her head away, determined not to meet his gaze, but his other hand came up to force her chin round. She wanted to close her eyes but was afraid of what might happen if she did. Already she was aware of the wild jerking of her heart, the heat of her quickened blood, the tremors that were threatening to make her legs give way beneath her. As Luke drew her even nearer, she was aware of her breasts brushing against his hard chest, the nipples already taut and tingling. With her free hand, she pushed desperately against him, but it was like trying to shift a wall of rock. She opened her mouth to protest; but before she could utter a word he had fastened his own lips on hers, keeping them apart and exploring the crevices of her mouth, while his hand slid down from her chin, encircling her neck, caressing her throat and finally describing a series of tiny circles as it progressed down to the neck of her blouse.

  When he finally removed his mouth from hers, Flair was weak and dizzy, and in no condition to struggle. Indeed, she felt that if he were to let her go she must fall. She leaned against him, breathless, bemused, unable either to move or speak. She felt Luke move slightly away and looked up dazedly to find him watching her almost with the expression of a scientist absorbed in an exp
eriment.

  'I --' she whispered, but he cut in smoothly.

  'Do you think I've bought you body and soul now, Flair Pattison?' he mused. 'Maybe I don't need to buy . . . maybe you'd rather give? But I won't ask that of you—not yet. Not until you're ready. . . .' He gathered her against him again and his lips found her eyelids, closing them with tiny kisses that sent shivers through her whole body. She felt a tiny trail of fire as his mouth moved away to her ears, nipping gently at each lobe, then under the line of her chin to the hollow of her throat. She was barely aware that he had let go of her wrist, that his arms encircled her completely, nor even that her own arms had slipped up round his neck. There was nothing in the world at this moment but herself and Luke Seager , . . the man no woman could resist. . . . Not even Flair Pattison. ...

  A sudden wave of scent assailed her nostrils and the image of Roxanne Ryan swayed unwanted into her mind. Roxanne—surely that was her scent, wafting up from Luke's shirtfront. It was only hours since he'd been with her. Brought brutally back to earth, Flair wrenched herself away, taking him by surprise this time so that he let her go with a suddenness that had them both stumbling. Taking advantage of the moment, Flair retreated behind her desk, the door to the small office behind her, and glared at her employer.

  'Don't come near me again!' she panted, green eyes wide under the dishevelled auburn hair. 'Don't touch me again—ever!' She couldn't add: especially when you've been with her all afternoon—he'd be bound to put the wrong interpretation on it. Vainly, she cast about for something else to say, but Luke saved her the trouble.

  'What the hell's the matter now?' he demanded, advancing on her. 'You were enjoying that, enjoying it just as much as I was. So why stop? We're both adult people, aren't we? Is there something wrong about us making love? Something evil? Don't go all moral on me—not in this day and age!'

  'It's nothing to do with that,' Flair snapped. 'I just don't want to—to have affairs. Is there something wrong with that? Something unnatural? I told you, I'm not interested in that kind of thing. I want a career-—that's not so unusual, is it? And as far as I'm concerned, careers and marriage don't mix. Not yet, anyway—not until I've got a lot further than I am now.'

  'My God,' he said slowly, 'you do take things to heart, don't you? Whoever mentioned marriage? I was talking about pleasure, that's all—natural, healthy, wholesome fun.'

  'Well, that's not my idea of fun, then,' she retorted. 'Yes, if you like, I do equate sex with marriage. I thought that was normal. So until I get married—if I ever do—I'm not having anything to do with sex. It makes life too complicated.'

  'But what a complication,' he murmured. 'And boy, what a load of trouble you're storing up for yourself, Flair honey. No marriage—so no sex. It'll never work—not with a bundle of dynamite like you. And if you ask if there's something unnatural in not wanting what every healthy man and woman in the world wants, well, I have to tell you, I think there is. Something very unnatural. But you'll find out. It's my guess you haven't even begun to realise your own potential.' He walked to the door, and Flair closed her eyes again rather than watch the sinuous movements of the body that had only moments ago been pressed so closely and intimately to hers. At the door, he paused and his brilliant blue gaze met hers mockingly.

  'Don't forget what I said about an early start, Miss Pattison,' he murmured. 'And bring your toothbrush, won't you—we'll be staying over.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  Blue Island lay off the coast a few miles north of Perth. Smaller than the popular holiday island of Rottnest, it nevertheless had great potential, as Luke explained on the way to the beach where he kept his motor-launch. He intended to develop it on similar lines to the Seager Hotels, with the added attractions of a health farm, together with gymnasium, squash and tennis courts and various other outdoor activities. There were sufficient inlets on the sheltered side of the island for plenty of beaches, one or two of them secluded enough to be used for naturist bathing, and there were deep pools ideal for skin-diving.

  'Naturist beaches had a sticky time of it when they were first established around Perth,' Luke remarked, helping Flair into the launch and showing her where to sit. 'But they've come to be accepted, and the ones I've earmarked on Blue Island won't offend anyone.' He glanced sideways at Flair, his eyes twinkling. 'Maybe we could try them out while we're over there.'

  The roar of the engine drowned Flair's reply, but she knew that the flush on her face must tell him just how she felt about that suggestion. Nude bathing indeed—and with him! There was nothing she was less likely to do—well, almost nothing., Still scarlet, she turned to look out to sea and the dark smudge that was Blue Island.

  'You don't seem keen on the idea,' Luke persisted as the engine quietened and the launch began the run across the bay. Flair bit her lip. Sitting where she was—where he'd told her to sit—she felt uncomfortably close to him. His thigh brushed against hers; unnecessarily, she thought, but she could hardly ask him to remove it. She shifted a little in her seat and caught his bright, mocking glance on her immediately.

  'Ever been bathing in the altogether?' he enquired. 'There's nothing like it—the feeling of the water flowing over your body, completely unrestricted. And as for sunbaking—so long as you don't overdo it, of course. That can be very painful indeed!'

  He was laughing at her, it was quite obvious, and Flair determined not to rise to the bait. But Luke wasn't going to let her get away with it so lightly.

  'Of course, I forgot, that kind of thing doesn't interest you,' he commented, keeping a light hand on the steering of the boat. 'You're the single-minded career girl, aren't you? The human body's just a necessary encumbrance—though a very decorative one in your case, I admit.' His glance was now frankly appreciative, flicking over her body as he took in the pale blue slack suits, set off by a plain white shirt and a scarf in darker blue silk. 'Seems a shame it'll never enjoy the pleasures it's so obviously made for.'

  'Mr Seager,' Flair said through tight lips, 'I've told you before how I feel about—about that kind of thing. Can't we just give it a rest?'

  'Funny the way you always call me Mr Seager when we get to talking about sex,' he mused. 'Almost as if you were scared of something. Of me, maybe? Or . . . even of yourself?' His own lips twitched with amusement, as he watched her face flame.

  'We're not talking about sex!' she managed at last. 'At least, I'm not—you seem to think and talk of nothing else. I can't understand how you ever found the time to build up a hotel business!'

  'Oh, now that's not fair,' he protested. 'You know how hard I work. But I like to play too. Isn't a man entitled to a little fun now and then?'

  'Oh yes, by all means. But not with me!' she shot at him. 'If that's all you're going to Blue Island for, you brought the wrong person. You should have asked-Roxanne to accompany you—I'm sure she'd have been glad to take a few notes, among any other little tasks you might have in mind!'

  For a moment she thought she had gone too far. His eyes hardened to the colour of slate as he stared at her. Then, with a soft sound that might have meant anything, he turned abruptly away, leaving Flair to regain control of her breathing and, after a few minutes, to look around her.

  The scene was incredibly beautiful. Behind them now lay the coast of Western Australia, a strip of dazzlingly white sand with the rainbow colours of the bush, alive with wildflowers, stretching behind. The tower blocks of Perth shimmered down the coast and she could see a liner making its way to the busy port of Fremantle.

  Ahead, islands were strewn in a long chain. In the morning sunshine they looked like a glowing necklace of opals. But she knew that they could be treacherous; the early days had seen many wrecked ships here, some of them still visible in the clear, deadly waters. Caught in the storms that could rage along this coast, struggling to pick a way between the rocks that sprang like jagged teeth to tear at whatever might come near, many of the pioneer ships had foundered off this coast when exploration had first begun. And later, as the s
ettlers searching for a better life had undertaken the vast and dangerous journey from the other side of the world, more than one ship with a cargo of wives and children, and household effects from tubs and mangles to grand pianos and even the occasional carriage, so useless in this wild country', had gone to the bottom within sight of the Australian shores.

  Blue Island was one of the innermost islands of the chain, sheltered from the worst of the Indian Ocean's tumult by the curve of the coast and the islands that lay outside it. Flair watched with interest as Luke brought the launch close to it, and leaned forward excitedly as he took the boat right round the island so that she could see the entire coastline. A gasp of delight rose to her lips as she saw the waters of one bay alive with birds—cormorants and gulls mostly, accompanied by a flock of pelicans that rose into the air at the launch's approach, their ungainly, huge-billed bodies taking on a peculiar grace as they flapped higher and higher, circling with lazy movements until they were little more than dark specks against the immense blue of the sky.

  'Oh, how beautiful,' Flair exclaimed softly. 'And I always thought pelicans were just comic birds.'

  Luke grinned abstractedly as he handled the launch through a submerged reef. 'They're ace fliers, pelicans. And I've never been able to see quite why, since their food comes entirely from the sea. Guess it must be sheer joy at being alive.' He turned the boat into a hidden harbour and brought it alongside a wooden jetty, 'Well, here we are. Blue Island— playground of W.A.'