Eliot was by her side in a second, urging her towards a leather couch and sitting down beside her. ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’
‘Actually it is serious. We’ve known for a long time that she has to have an urgent operation. The only hospital which can perform it is over here, and, as you can imagine, it’s going to cost the earth. That’s why I take every job offered me. I’m saving up to pay for it.’ As she reached the end of her explanation, she stared at her tensely interlaced fingers and waited.
‘Saving up could take you forever! Why on earth didn’t you come and ask me for the money?’ he asked, just as she had known he would.
She looked up at him with a sigh. ‘Oh, Eliot, I couldn’t just come and ask for that kind of money! Besides, my mother wouldn’t accept it.’
‘Stupid. Your mother doesn’t have to know. Now, I don’t want any argument from you, Reba. The money is yours. Just let me know when you need to pay, and I’ll write out a cheque. I don’t care what you tell your mother, but the truth will be our secret, right?’
There was an infinitesimal moment then when she longed to refuse, but there was no way back. This, after all, was what it had all been about. ‘If I accept, it’s on the understanding that I pay you back,’ she argued.
Eliot smiled broadly. ‘Anything you say, sweetheart, anything you say,’ he conceded, just as there was a knock on the door and Hilary came in with a tray carrying the champagne and two glasses.
‘Congratulations, Mr Thorson, Miss Wyeth. I hope you’ll be very happy,’ the secretary greeted them, smiling warmly. ‘Oh, and the jewellers say they’ll be here shortly,’ she added before leaving.
Reba watched Eliot pour the champagne, knowing she had won a moral victory. She would pay him back. It was the only way she could feel comfortable with herself. And she would make him a good wife, so that he would never regret asking her.
He returned to sit beside her, handing her her glass and chinking it against his. ‘To us,’ he proposed, and Reba forced her lips to smile back.
‘To us,’ she echoed, and drank a desperate measure, hoping that Eliot was so caught up in his own happiness that he wouldn’t see how fragile she was.
Sitting back he put an arm about her shoulders and eased her up against him. ‘I don’t know about you, sweetheart, but I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to to get married.’
She whole-heartedly agreed with that. There was nothing to be gained by waiting, save more doubts, and she had enough of those already. ‘The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Great. The way I see it, if your mother has to come over here anyway, we can get married Stateside. What about your family, though? Would you have many relatives who have to be invited?’
‘There’s only the four of us. Both our parents were only children, and if we have any other relatives, we can’t be on speaking terms with them.’
‘Lucky you! The Thorson clan would fill a small stadium, and the worst of it is, you can’t ignore any of them. They’d be insulted if they weren’t invited.’ Despite his words, he sounded amused, but she didn’t miss the abrupt sobering of his smile before he went on. ‘Speaking of which, I expect that means I’ll have to invite Hunter.’
The name tore through Reba like a blunt sword, setting every nerve twanging. She had to have heard wrong, she tried to convince herself, and even if she hadn’t, it meant nothing. It wasn’t an uncommon name, and men frequently referred to each other by surname, didn’t they? And yet, what if…? She had to know. Had to learn if her fears were groundless or had foundation.
‘Invite who?’ Her voice was little more than a croak, and she swallowed some more champagne to moisten her tight throat.
‘Hunter Jamieson, my cousin. You don’t know him. We don’t exactly hit it off, but he’s a case in point. He’s part of the family, so he’ll have to be invited. Mind you, if he had any decency he’d decline,’ he retorted, clearly without much hope of that happening.
Her mind began to work furiously. The name was the same, but there had to be some mistake. Her Hunter couldn’t possibly be related to the wealthy Thorsons. Once again she had to know. ‘Actually, the name does sound rather familiar,’ she ventured. ‘What does he do?’
Eliot snorted. ‘He’d call it messing about with boats, but that’s just his little joke. He designs and builds boats for his living.’
His little joke! Reba stared down blindly into her glass. There was no mistake, and the true horror of it finally struck her. Hunter was Eliot’s cousin! Dear God, they would be related! After all she had done to put him from her life, she was about to marry his cousin! Hysteria bubbled up inside her, and she forced it back. She mustn’t lose her grip now. Eliot said they didn’t get on. Perhaps that meant they never met. After all, a man who built boats was a far cry from one who ran a chain of hotels!
Her heart was thundering in her chest as she probed the full extent of the damage. ‘Do you see much of him?’
Eliot scowled. ‘Too much! He’s got shares in the hotels and sits on several boards. Which means he has to be entertained because he’s too damned influential to ignore! You’ve probably heard of Backbay Marine? Well, he inherited that from his father and turned it into the multimillion-dollar business it is now. He’s not the kind of relative you can ignore publicly, even if you do so privately.’
Multimillion-dollar business! Reba began to laugh. It was either that or scream. Hunter the deck-hand turned out to be Hunter the astute businessman! A man who, loving her as he had, would have helped her. She had always known that, but she hadn’t thought he had the means to do so. That was why she had turned him against her. Made him hate her and think her a gold-digger. Now she knew differently, but it wouldn’t change what he thought. If she went to him now, he would believe it was because she had found out about his wealth and only wanted him for his money.
Dear God, why hadn’t he told her who he was before she had destroyed everything? Why had he lied?
The heart-broken questions were obsolete even before they were raised. What difference did it make? She had destroyed them. More than that, she had given Eliot her promise to marry him. She couldn’t go back on her word. There was still her mother to think of. Though it hurt to the very depths of her soul to know she had lost Hunter for nothing, she had to make the best of what she had now. She didn’t know how she would face Hunter when the time came, but prayed for the courage to do so. She would pray also for the strength to face his presence on the edge of her life, a constant reminder of what might have been.
‘Sweetheart, are you all right?’ Eliot’s concerned question brought her from the edge of the pit, sobering her at once.
‘I’m sorry, I think it’s the champagne. I’ve been so worried about Mum that my nerves are on edge,’ she invented swiftly, amazed at how easily the lies came.
He immediately took her glass away. ‘Then you’d better not have any more. And don’t let my talk about Hunter upset you. He doesn’t mean anything to us. We don’t need his permission to be happy.’
Reba sank back against his shoulder, tired out by how complicated her life had become in such a short time. For her mother’s sake she had to pretend to be in love with Eliot, and now she realised how important it was that he should never know that she and Hunter had ever met, let alone been lovers.
‘I’m going to take you out tonight for the best meal you’ve ever had,’ Eliot interrupted her thoughts. ‘And I’ve just realised things couldn’t have worked out better. I’m supposed to be going down to the island to join Mother for a holiday this weekend. Now we can go together, and I can introduce you to the important members of the family.’
‘Lovely,’ Reba agreed, desperately trying to inject enthusiasm into her voice. It was going to be all right. Hunter didn’t count any more. The problem was, how long would it take her heart to accept it?
At ten-thirty on Friday morning Reba went to answer the ringing of her doorbell. She took a quick glance in the hall mirror as s
he passed it. Her make-up was flawless and perfectly understated, the pale pink silk blouse and silver-grey trousers comfortable yet elegant. The lush waves of hair flowed around her head and shoulders, and her fingers fluffed it into greater buoyancy. Eliot loved it this way, often stroking its silky texture as if she were the cat her eyes suggested.
Those same eyes glazed over at unbidden recollections of other hands tangling themselves in the vibrancy of her hair. But such thoughts were pointless, and she clamped down on them rigidly, knowing it was self-destructive to keep stirring up this hornets’ nest of memories.
She forced herself back to the present. She was engaged to Eliot. The opulent diamond ring which now graced her marriage finger was proof of that. It wasn’t the ring she would have chosen for herself, but on Wednesday she hadn’t had the strength to argue. Then, yesterday, it had bolstered her to contact both her mother’s doctor, and the Chamberlain Hospital, to confirm that the arrangements for the operation could now be made without delay. It had helped, too, when she had telephoned home and, during a long chat with her mother, had had to reaffirm her love for Eliot. The lack of strength in Harriet Wyeth’s voice witnessed her declining health, and Reba was all the more certain that she was doing the right thing.
Satisfied with the way she looked, she passed on to open the door, knowing it would be Eliot on the other side. Her smile of welcome was genuine as she beheld him. She really did like him a lot. She just hoped it would be enough. Today he looked extremely handsome in a lightweight grey suit and striped shirt.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he declared huskily as he drew her into his arms. Reba obediently raised her lips to accept his long kiss. It was nice being in his arms, she told herself, and she always enjoyed his kisses. So what if her pulse didn’t race and her blood didn’t zing through her veins? They were symptoms of desire, not happiness, and she didn’t need the one for the other. Yet she returned his kiss with more than usual enthusiasm because her conscience was pricking her.
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ she said contritely, when at last she was free to do so, allowing her head to rest briefly on his shoulder as he steered them inside and closed the door. Eliot had wanted to spend the night with her, but she hadn’t felt able to take her commitment that far. He had taken her refusal well, but she had still felt guilty. She had told herself that it was because it was too soon. That it would be different when they were married. She had to believe that.
‘I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pressured you like that. It’s just that I love you so much, Reba,’ Eliot responded, and Reba heard the persuasion in his voice. It made her tense up, and she eased herself away to frown up at him.
‘You agreed to wait until we were married,’ she reminded him. Maybe she wasn’t doing herself any favours, but she only knew that she didn’t want to cross that final barrier until she had to, because then the past would really be over.
Eliot groaned. ‘I know I did, but I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t try to change your mind now and then, would I?’
Of course he wouldn’t. He was a man, with a man’s needs, and he loved her. Reba slipped her arms around him and sighed. How could she tell him she only wanted one man, and he was lost to her? How to tell him she was prepared to honour her commitment, but not just yet? It was just too soon, that was all. When the time came, it would be all right. Until then, she continued her white lie. ‘I’m sorry, Eliot, but it means a lot to me to wait, and it won’t be much longer,’ she promised.
Hugging her closer, he buried his face against her neck. ‘Lord, I hope not, but you haven’t seen the Thorson machine go into action over a wedding! The planning alone will take a month!’
Reba hated herself for feeling relieved, but there was no denying it. What on earth was she hoping time would bring, a miracle? A reprieve? Damn it, she had chosen. Now she had to get on with her life!
‘I was thinking of a wedding in two weeks, three at the most.’
Eliot eased her away to arm’s length and smiled ruefully. ‘I’m afraid the Thorson name requires that everything should be done correctly. There can be no such thing as a quickie wedding; we have too much regard for our dignity,’ he intoned, tongue in cheek, although she suspected there was more than a grain of truth in it.
Nonetheless Reba smiled. ‘There are some who would say that’s a rather antiquated idea.’
Eliot grinned, slipping a casual arm about her shoulders. ‘Of course, and I’m one of them, but it wouldn’t do to offend the old folks. Mother is head of the family, and she insists we all have a proper consideration for who we are,’ he told her consolingly. ‘As the future Mrs Thorson, you’d better get prepared to uphold the family traditions, and pass them on to our children. Which I know you’ll manage superbly. And by the way, you look stunning. Good enough to eat. The family will most definitely approve.’
Reba laughed and punched his shoulder playfully. ‘Don’t try to scare me by making your mother out to be a monster. I’m marrying you, not your family,’ she contested.
‘Sorry, sweetheart, but when you get me, you get the whole family,’ he teased.
Hunter too? The thought came unbidden, and twisted her up inside so that for a moment she felt sick. When she had learnt of the relationship, her peace had gone. The prospect of constantly running into Hunter had shattered her. It was going to be a punishment from which there would be no reprieve.
‘Why don’t we just elope, and tell them all about it afterwards?’ she suggested, perfectly serious. Anything to miss the family gathering which loomed threateningly on the horizon.
Eliot burst out laughing and hugged her again. ‘That’s what I adore about you, Reba, your sense of humour. Besides, look at it this way: your mother should be well on the road to recovery by then, and much more able to attend the wedding. You’d want that, wouldn’t you?’
Reba reached up to cup his face. ‘You know, when you say things like that, I know I made the right decision,’ she said huskily, knowing he’d never guess that the moisture in her eyes was due to what she had lost, not what she had.
He sent her a tender smile, and kissed, her deeply. ‘I’m glad,’ he said gruffly, before adroitly changing the subject. ‘So, are you all packed? Our flight leaves in two hours, and the traffic is bad today. I want us to make a good impression, so it wouldn’t do to be late for dinner.’
Reba laughed teasingly. ‘That would never do!’
‘I’ve changed my mind—my family aren’t going to like you, they’re going to love you. Just as I do, darling.’
‘I hope you’re right,’she murmured, pointing to where her cases stood beside the couch. There was enough against them without having to fight his close family too. But she had to think positively, because it was too late for anything else. Collecting her jacket and purse, she shut the door firmly on her fears and followed him out into the corridor.
When they approached it at last, after hours of energy-sapping travel, the sun was already setting over the surprisingly substantial Caribbean island belonging to the Thorson family. It was a breathtaking sight, indescribable and yet unforgettable, and, in Reba’s opinion, quite made up for a long delay earlier, when they had had to wait for the boat.
She would have called Eliot up to share her enjoyment, but he had turned out to be a poor sailor, turning green at the slightest motion. He had finally gone below to get a drink and lie down, refusing her offer to keep him company. She had preferred to stay topside, where the cooling breeze had been welcome. All the way south the temperature had been rising, and at times it had bordered on the unbearable. There was a feeling in the air of something explosive waiting to happen.
Reba sighed, and lifted the weight of her hair off her neck, shivering a little as the breeze touched her damp flesh. Perhaps her unease was due to being back among the islands where she had met Hunter. It helped to know he had already left, and, if he ran a business, that surely meant he wasn’t likely to return south so soon. Moreover, she was going to a private isl
and where he simply wouldn’t be invited. That should give her a measure of confidence.
The sound of footsteps made her turn to see Eliot coming towards her. The green tinge had gone, and she smiled sympathetically. ‘Feeling better?’
Tossing aside the jacket he had been carrying, he slipped his arms around her waist. ‘Much, now I can see the end is in sight,’ he rejoined wryly.
She sent him a puzzled look. ‘Why on earth do you own a yacht if you get seasick?’
‘I use it for entertaining, not to sail on. I only travel on water when I have to, like now. What do you think of our little island?’
She sank back against him, her hands coming to rest on his bare arms. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she pronounced honestly. Even from this distance, it looked like a corner of paradise to her. ‘But I’d hardly call it little!’
Eliot gave a wry chuckle. ‘Well, that depends on your point of view, darling. As a nation we tend to think big, so anything which isn’t huge must be small.’
‘You own it all?’ she asked, suddenly wondering how she would fit into a family who were wealthy enough to own a whole island.
It had seemed a reasonable question to ask, and she was surprised at the sudden tension which went through him.
‘Not quite,’ he replied tersely, releasing her and coming to stand by her side, hands curled tightly around the rail. Reba realised she had unwittingly touched on a sore point. ‘We used to, but now the south-west corner belongs to…someone else.’
He made it sound so dire that she couldn’t help being intrigued. ‘How come?’
‘A whim of my grandfather’s. It’s a sore point with Mother, so don’t mention I told you,’ Eliot pronounced grimly.
Protectively she brought her hand up to shade her eyes as she stared ahead. ‘If you don’t want him there, can’t you buy him out?’
When he laughed, it wasn’t a particularly pleasant sound. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried? The bastard won’t sell. He enjoys being a thorn in our side.’
The Bitter Price Of Love Page 5