Lucifer's Brand

by Nicola West

  Luke swore and grabbed at their cases, pulling out dry clothes and handing them to Flair so that she could hastily drag them on. As she did so, he scrambled quickly into a pair of shorts and a loose shirt, then slid into the driving seat and held Flair's door open for her.

  'Tourists,' he said in tones of deep disgust. 'Coming this way, too. They certainly know how to pick their moments!' He grinned ruefully at her. 'Still, I suppose we could have picked somewhere less public.'

  Giving her a quick, hard kiss, he started the car. Within moments they were bumping back along the track, passing a group of middle-aged tourists on the way and slowing down to round their coach at the entrance to the narrow road. Then they were back on the tarmac and Flair, shaken and trembling, was beginning to wonder if it had really happened.

  'Sorry about that, Flair,' Luke murmured then, resting his hand lightly on her thigh. 'Let's continue our—discussion—somewhere a little more private, shall we?'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The rest of the morning passed in a haze of happiness. There didn't seem to be any need to discuss anything; not yet. It was enough just to be together in this new world, this world that had turned upside down and proved to be so much, much better and brighter than the old one. They drove quietly along the empty roads, surrounded by the beauty of the forests with their giant trees and swarming flowers, and talked, letting each other see into their hearts and minds. Flair told Luke about her parents, how they had never been really happy together, though they had never quarrelled much, and how when Jeff had had the opportunity to come to Australia to do the work he loved Susan had decided to stay behind.

  'She'd just got the chance of this headship, you see,' Flair explained, 'and it was just what she'd always dreamed of. I think she was relieved that she didn't have to worry about Dad. It seemed the right thing for both of them.'

  'And was it for you?' Luke asked. 'Seeing your family split up like that—having to say goodbye to your father and share your mother with two or three hundred other girls?'

  Flair shrugged. 'I did miss Dad a lot. But I was happy enough, I suppose. I didn't have much time to think about it. They keep you on the move at boarding schools, you know!'

  Luke was silent for a while, then he said quietly: 'But from what you've said, I get the impression your mother was more headmistress than mum. Or am I wrong?'

  'No, you're not,' Flair answered, surprised at his perception. 'She was—especially during term, there couldn't be any favouritism. And during the holidays I suppose she found it hard to switch off. But she was always like that really. Much more the career woman than mother or wife.'

  'And her daughter?' Luke asked softly. 'How do you feel, Flair, about being a wife and mother? Or does your career mean more to you, too?'

  Flair thought for a moment. Then she said: 'No. Not any more. There was a time when I thought it did—when I thought my career was more important than marriage could ever be. But that was before I met you.' She let her hand rest on his knee, feeling the hard muscles of his thigh. 'I had to fight too, Luke. I didn't want to give up all the ideas I'd had for so long. But now --'

  'Now?' he murmured, dropping his hand on to hers and moving his fingers slowly, sensuously, so that tiny thrills ran like electric shocks up her arm and into her body.

  'Now I just want to be with you,' she said softly. 'For the rest of my life.'

  Luke talked then, telling her about his own background, and as he talked Flair began to understand his apparently hard attitude to women. No wonder, she thought as she listened, that he'd seen women as toys, to be played with and used but not to be treated seriously; not to be allowed into his heart. Her only wonder was that Luke, too, had turned his ideas upside down and allowed himself to love her.

  'Mum left when I was three,' he said, keeping his eyes on the road that ran so straight ahead of them. 'I suppose there'd been problems—but I never knew, I was too young. I don't even remember her properly—just one or two vague pictures. All I do know is that it ruined Dad. I don't think he was ever the same again. He never stopped loving her, you see. He lost heart for everything else—the business, me, living itself. He did his best, I can't say he didn't—but I always knew he was, eating his heart out for something, or someone, else. He died when I was sixteen, and it might sound crazy to say it was of a broken heart, but I believe it was. He just hung on to make sure I was old enough to fend for myself, you see, then he went.'

  'Oh, Luke,' Flair said sympathetically, 'that's terrible! And you never heard any more from your mother?'

  'Not a word. She just didn't want to know, I guess. Found someone else—may have a dozen other kids by now. Frankly, I don't care.'

  They sat in silence for a while after that. Flair was thinking deeply about what Luke had told her. It obviously hadn't been easy for him to tell her that story. She guessed it was something he rarely talked about and probably wouldn't mention again. But she didn't believe him when he said he didn't care about his mother. He cared a lot—and he was still hurt. That was what had embittered him, what had turned him against women. That was why he hadn't wanted to love her.

  But things would be different now, she promised silently. From now on, she would teach him that women could be relied on, trusted, loved. From now on the bitterness would be assuaged from his soul.

  They didn't have time to stop much for sightseeing that day—Luke was anxious to get back to Perth by nightfall: He paused merely long enough to show Flair the Natural Bridge, a series of huge slabs of rock that formed a bridge over the roaring waves of a rocky cove, and the Gap nearby—a deep cleft in sheer cliffs, down which Flair was fascinated and horrified to see two climbers hanging like flies above the surging foam. Then they sped on to Albany, where Flair caught only glimpses of the brig Amity, the replica of the ship that had brought the first European settlers to Western Australia, and the Dog Rock, like a huge labrador sitting by the road in the middle of the town. It didn't take long for Luke to see what he wanted of the motel site and to complete his business with the local men who were to be working on it; and then, after a quick lunch, they were on their way back to Perth, going this time through the Stirling ranges.

  'You don't mind us rushing back, do you, Flair?' Luke asked as they passed through the tumble of mountain scenery that was so different from the long straight roads and forests of the Leeuwin Way. 'We'll come again and we'll take it easier next time. Only now that we've settled ourselves, there are quite a few things I want to get straightened out back in Perth. I want us to be married as soon as possible, my darling—but there are some loose ends want tying up first.'

  Flair smiled back at him, loving the strong, clean lines of his profile. Of course she didn't mind—she didn't mind anything, provided it meant that she and Luke could be together. Though she did wish that he'd stop, just for a few minutes, and kiss her again. . . . She felt weak as the memory of his kisses invaded her mind. She let her hand rest on his thigh and he turned and smiled at her. But he didn't suggest stopping.

  It was late evening when they arrived back in Perth. Jeff was out again, to Flair's disappointment—she had looked forward to telling him their news, knowing how it would please him. She turned to Luke, expecting him to suggest a meal either here or at the hotel. But instead he took her in his arms and said gently: 'I think we'd better call it a day now, Flair, don't you? You must be exhausted after that long drive—and I do need to catch up on some work before I go to bed. A quick supper and then bed is what I suggest for you!'

  'Can't you stay and have something with me?' she murmured, nuzzling her face into his neck, and felt his throat vibrate as he laughed softly.

  'I could, but if I did I don't think I'd ever leave! Look, we'll have all the time in the world soon, I promise you. I'll see you in the morning—as early as you like to make it.' He kissed her and Flair felt her bones melt. She clung to him, responding with all the ardour that was in her, all the ardour she had been afraid to unleash before. But after a few minutes, he held
her away from him and said regretfully: 'I really must go, love. Don't make it too hard for me.'

  Flair shook her head. 'I'll see you in the morning, then.'

  'At the crack of dawn,' Luke promised with a wicked grin, and he was gone.

  But although Flair did as she'd been told, made herself an omelette and went to bed to dream of Luke so vividly that she woke convinced he was there with her, she did not see him in the morning. And by the time they, did meet, everything had changed.

  There was a small box waiting on Flair's desk when she arrived at the hotel next morning. She eyed it with excitement and some doubt. It looked like a ring-box—but why was it waiting on her desk? And where was Luke?

  'Mr Seager's had to go over to the island suddenly,' Janet told her when she enquired. 'He had a message very early from the men who're starting work there today. Some snag—but he didn't seem too worried. Said he'd be back later this afternoon with any luck.'

  'I see.' Flair wandered back into her own office and looked at the box again. Presumably Luke had intended to give it to her this morning, and having been called away had left it for her to find. She wasn't sure she liked getting engaged this way and wondered why he couldn't have left it until he got back. But maybe he thought it would make up for her own disappointment; maybe he wanted to find her wearing it when he did come back.

  She opened the box and looked at the ring inside. Her lips parted and a tiny sigh of pure delight escaped them.

  A large, egg-shaped opal glowed up at her, its colours streaked with blue and red. She took it out and slipped it on her finger. It fitted exactly, and she turned it about, gazing in wonder at the depth of its colouring, the mystery of its patterns. Someone had dug this out of the raw earth, and somewhere Luke had found it and thought it right for her. And so it was—exactly right. But where and when had he bought it? When had he decided that he wanted to marry her?

  A sound startled her and she looked up sharply to see Roxanne in the doorway, watching her. Hastily she slipped the box into the drawer of her desk, but she knew that Roxanne had seen and the other girl's face sharpened with an avid curiosity. She took a step forward and Flair said quickly: 'Hello, Roxanne. Did you want something?'

  'Nothing that you can help me with, honey,' the American girl drawled. 'I was hoping to see Luke.'

  'I'm afraid he's not here,' Flair said calmly. 'He's gone over to Blue Island.'

  'Away again?' Roxanne pouted. She was looking exceptionally beautiful this morning in a low-cut scarlet sundress, Flair thought, able to feel magnanimous towards the other girl now. 'That man's always dashing off somewhere.'

  'It's his job,' Flair said smoothly. 'I expect your father's just the same.'

  'Oh, Pop --' Roxanne shrugged. 'He just lives for work. But Luke's different, isn't he? He knows how to enjoy himself as well. Or maybe you wouldn't know much about that, Miss Pattison—being just his assistant.'

  Flair said nothing and began to sort the post, hoping that Roxanne would go. Then she became aware of the brunette's scrutiny and glanced up to see Roxanne's sultry eyes fixed on her hands—on the opal ring she was wearing on her engagement finger.

  'Say, that's really something.' Roxanne bent closer to look. 'A real opal, huh? You got yourself engaged, Miss Pattison?' The curiosity was naked in her eyes as they flicked up over Flair's burning face.

  Well, everyone would know sooner or later. It was just that she would have preferred Roxanne not to be the first to hear their news. With a tiny sigh, Flair said simply: 'Yes, I am, as a matter of fact.'

  'You are?' Roxanne's voice sounded almost genuinely pleased, though it was mainly, Flair supposed, because she herself no longer seemed to present a threat to the American girl's plans. 'And who's the lucky man? Anyone I know?' Clearly, she didn't expect it to be—she wouldn't 'know' anyone of what she might think of as Flair's circle.

  Flair hesitated. For some reason which she couldn't analyse, she didn't want to tell Roxanne that she was engaged to Luke. She felt almost superstitious about it as if it might bring bad luck. But there was nothing else for it and, reluctantly, she admitted the truth.

  Roxanne stared at her. Her mouth opened a little, her face turned pale. For a moment she seemed bereft of speech. Then an ugly expression crept into her eyes and they narrowed almost to slits. Flair saw her whole body tense as the dull, angry colour flooded back into her face.

  'Luke?' Roxanne said at last, and her voice was rasping and harsh. 'You're engaged to Luke?'

  'Yes, that's right.' Flair wished the girl would go away. It was unpleasant to stand here and watch her rage; almost frightening. She had never seen anyone look quite like that before.

  Roxanne gave a short, unpleasant laugh. 'You must be mad! Or course you're not engaged to Luke. Why, he's as good as engaged to me.'

  'I'm sorry, Roxanne,' Flair said patiently, 'but he's not. He asked me to marry him yesterday.'

  'Yesterday? Then there must be some reason for. it.' The tall, voluptuous body swayed angrily up and down the room, the red material of her dress swirling like a flame about her. 'He didn't mean it, you may be sure of that. Luke means to marry me—and I sure mean to marry him.' She reached the window and swung round. 'Why, he wouldn't risk everything just now—he thinks too much of his business for that. Isn't it what he puts first, always? Isn't it what he's worked for all these years? You don't think he's going to start courting a little nobody like you at this stage, do you? It could ruin everything—-and Luke's not going to see that happen. No, there's some other reason for it—and I bet I know just what it is, too.'

  'Roxanne, please—there's no mistake, no reason— Luke and I are in love and we're going to be married --'

  'In love?' The American's eyes widened and she laughed. 'Luke Seager in love? Why, he doesn't know the meaning of the word! Oh, sex, yes, he knows all about that—he's taken some trouble to learn, and anyway he's the kinda man who doesn't need much teaching. But love—that doesn't come into his calculations.'

  'It does now,' said Flair, trying not to let the American girl's scorn shake her own conviction that Luke loved her.

  'Well, it's a new line, but I guess he thought it was the only one to take.' Roxanne looked her up and down. 'The simple little English rose—yeah, it figures. But it'll never happen—and if you want to save yourself from a whole lot of misery, you'll take that from me now and get out while you can.'

  Flair stared at her, her heart suddenly beating fast.

  'I don't know what you're talking about,' she said. 'Luke --'

  'Luke!' Roxanne repeated scathingly. 'You've really got your rose-tinted glasses on, haven't you? Luke's going to marry me, get that? And I'll tell you why. He's going to marry me because that's the only way Pop's going to agree to this merger going through. Oh yeah, they both want it—but Pop can manage without and if I don't get Luke, it's no go. Pop's always given me anything I want, you see. And I want Luke, I don't mind telling you that.'

  'But yesterday --' Flair began, and Roxanne interrupted her.

  'Yesterday nothing. I told you, there's got to be some reason. He's not committed to you, is he? No one else knows this tremendous news?'

  'No, I --'

  'And if I'm guessing right you'd only just found that ring when I walked in, hadn't you? Luke never put it on your finger himself.'

  Flair stared down at the opal, glowing on her finger. Had it been meant for an engagement ring? If Luke had been here, would he have slipped it on to just that finger? Or . . . she grew cold . . . had it been intended as a—a consolation present? Compensation for something he'd never intended, for a moment's madness.

  Committed—Flair felt totally committed to Luke. But did he to her? They hadn't made love yet, not fully. Indeed, for the last part of the journey Luke had seemed almost to avoid any opportunity to do so. He hadn't taken the chance to stop in the Sterling ranges; he hadn't even come through the door of her father's house last night. Her eyes suddenly misted with tears, she looked up at Roxanne.


  'I don't believe you,' she said, struggling to convince herself. 'You're just jealous—you're just trying to hurt me.'

  Roxanne shrugged her lovely shoulders. 'Okay, honey,' she said indifferently. 'If that's the way you want it—but you'll find out. Just ask your father, that's all. Ask him why his contract with Seager Hotels has been cancelled --'

  'Cancelled?'

  'Ask him why all his work for the Blue Island project is being reviewed and finished off by our architect—Ryan's. Ask him why he's not being kept on for the Albany motel or any of Luke's other places that are being improved and enlarged, let alone anything new. Ask him why, if it's not because Luke's going into the merger in a big way and he's agreed to employ Pop's designers.' She stopped and her narrowed eyes took in Flair's white face and huge, shocked eyes. ' That's why Luke Seager's asked you to marry him,' she said cruelly. 'He doesn't want Jeff Pattison suing him for a broken contract. And he knows you're the apple of your daddy's eye—just like I am mine. As long as you and Luke are engaged, Jeff won't lift a finger—but as soon as that merger's-signed and settled, believe you me, honey, your engagement's going to be off—and it'll be little Roxanne who's wearing a long white dress and walking up the aisle of St George's Cathedral.'

  She paused once more and looked for a long moment at the opal ring on Flair's finger.

  'Maybe he'll let you keep it for a souvenir,' she murmured silkily. She gave Flair one last glance from eyes that smouldered with a mixture of scorn, pity and complete certainty. Then, with a movement that reminded Flair of a great cat after a kill, she turned and walked coolly from the room, closing the door behind her.

  Flair stood where she was, unable to move. Her heart was beating so hard she felt that it was coming right into her throat. Her body felt cold, in spite of the warmth of the day. She shuddered and moved to pick up her jacket, but her limbs moved stiffly, as if she had suddenly grown old.