Читать книгу Pale Orchid - Anne Mather, Anne Mather - Страница 8

LAURA FELT as if someone had just delivered a gasping blow to her midriff. Her throat felt tight, and her breathing was suspended, the stunning reality of what Jason had said resounding in her head like the clanging of a bell.

‘You’re—not—serious!’

‘But, I am.’ Jason’s expression was faintly self-derisive now. ‘How could you doubt it? No one—but no one—walks out on Jason Montifore!’

‘So that’s it!’ Laura caught her breath. ‘Your pride was hurt!’ she accused him bitterly, the shuddering intensity of his announcement tempered now by his mocking confession.

Jason inclined his head. ‘If it pleases you to think so,’ he remarked carelessly. ‘I won’t insult your intelligence by protesting I’m in love with you.’

‘No. Don’t.’ Laura hunched her shoulders with sudden loathing. For a moment, for a brief space of time, she had half believed there must be some feeling behind his impassive pronouncement. But his taunting expression dispelled that assumption, and made a mockery of her sympathetic response.

‘Nevertheless, I am prepared to do what I can to help you, providing you are equally prepared to do the same.’

Laura swallowed disbelievingly. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Threatening you? No. How could you think it?’ he responded, in that same half mocking tone. ‘I’m offering you a way out, an alternative your sister may find more appealing than a depressing plane ride back to London.’

Laura shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t understand you.’

‘You will.’ Jason shrugged. ‘Stay and have lunch with me, and I’ll explain.’

Laura moved her head from side to side, but it was a futile gesture. ‘I don’t see what you can say to appease Pamela’s state of mind,’ she insisted. ‘She feels desperate and afraid …’

‘Because she’s alone and pregnant, and she has no future means of support,’ said Jason levelly. ‘Wouldn’t you say that covered her immediate situation? That and her professed desire to see Kazantis again?’

‘Well, yes …’

‘Good.’ Jason’s arms fell to his sides and he gestured politely towards the cushioned seat behind her. ‘So. Sit down. I’ll go tell Alec we’ll eat in fifteen minutes. You do like lobster, don’t you?’ His dark brows arched, and a faintly humorous gleam entered his eyes. ‘Oh, yes, of course you do. How could I forget?’

As he pulled open the door behind him and went to inform the yacht’s captain of his intentions, Laura curled one leg beneath her and sank down unhappily on to the soft banquette. It seemed he had all the answers, she thought bitterly, her fingers tugging convulsively at the fringe of braided silk that edged the cushions. And if he wasn’t threatening her exactly, he was certainly using Pamela’s condition to get what he wanted.

But why her? she brooded helplessly. Why was he prepared to go to such lengths to get her back? Was it only because she had walked out on him? Was he really so vain, that he couldn’t bear the implications of her action? It was not an adjective she would have associated with him once, but how well had she really known him, after all? Once, she would have said she knew everything about him—his likes, his dislikes; his fairness, and his humour; the things that made him laugh, and the things that aroused his anger; his integrity in business, and his probity in justice. The men who worked for him and with him, respected him as well as liked him, and until experience had taught her differently, she had never had cause to doubt him.

Of course, she had been in love with him then, madly and irresistibly in love with a man she had never dreamed might be attracted to her. When she first went to work for him, as a temporary replacement for his own secretary, the other girls at the agency had teased her about his lean good looks, and the fact that he was one of the wealthiest men on the island. Naturally they, like her, had never imagined he would take any interest in a long-legged English girl, whose only claim to beauty was the silvery fair hair that fell almost to her waist. The rest of her features were totally ordinary, she knew: blue eyes, that watered when the sun was too strong, a straight nose that was not the least bit retroussé, and a wide mouth, whose lower lip was just the tiniest bit fuller. She discounted the length of her lashes, whose tips required mascara to be seen, and the slender curves of her figure. In her experience, men preferred smaller women, with fuller breasts, women who nestled into the curve of their arm instead of meeting them on eye-level terms.

Not that she had ever been able to say that of Jason. His height, and the lithe muscularity of his body, had always made her aware of her own femininity, and he had always maintained he preferred taller women. There had been plenty of them, goodness knows. Before she had figured in his scheme of things, he had had other mistresses, and there were several would-be supplicants all willing to inform Laura of how precarious her position was. Not to mention his ex-wife, Regina, and their daughter, Lucia …

She shook her head, banishing the unwilling memories of the emotions he had aroused. It was ridiculous, she told herself desperately. How could she even consider his demands? She couldn’t stay in Hawaii. She couldn’t abandon Pierce in the middle of the new book. Her life was in England now. Her job was in England. She had to make him understand she could not abdicate her responsibilities.

Three years ago, things had been different. Pamela had been training at a good teaching hospital in London, and sharing a flat with several other nurses. When Laura had been given the opportunity to spend six months in the Honolulu branch of the international secretarial agency in Bond Street, where she had worked at that time, it had seemed a marvellous break. It had been no wrench to give up her bedsitter, put the few belongings she was not taking with her into storage, and fly off to Hawaii. But not now. Now, she had her own flat, in Highgate. She had put down roots, and she was no longer the carefree twenty-two-year-old she had been when Jason first met her. Besides which, she didn’t want to lose her job with Pierce. She liked working for him. The job was interesting, and it had given her a chance to travel, as well as providing a very generous salary. She couldn’t give that up, not at the whim of a man who she despised. She should not have come here, she acknowledged belatedly. She should not have allowed Pamela’s desperate plight to drive her into a situation she obviously could not handle. But then, she realised bleakly, she had had no way of knowing how Jason would react to her plea for help. She had never suspected he might have plans of his own.

‘I’ve told Alec to have the awning erected.’ Jason’s lazy tones interrupted her reverie, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘I thought we might eat on deck,’ he continued. ‘It’s cool enough in the shade.’

Laura wanted to say she didn’t want to eat lunch with him, but she bit back the words. There was no point in antagonising him, she decided weakly, ignoring the fact that the longer she allowed this charade to continue, the harder it would be to convince him she could not be blackmailed.

‘All right,’ she said now, indifferently, sliding her curled leg off the cushions and giving a little shrug. ‘But I’m not very hungry.’

‘Nor am I. My appetites run in an entirely different direction,’ responded Jason unemotionally. ‘But unless I miss my guess, you’re not exactly in a mood to take advantage of them, are you?’

A wave of warm indignation swept over her skin at his careless words, and as if that was answer enough, Jason’s lips twisted. ‘I thought not,’ he essayed, turning back to the bar. ‘I suggest a cocktail instead. Something crisp, but not too sharp. I wouldn’t want to sour what promises to be an … interesting association.’

Laura looked up at him tensely, and then, giving into a wholly ungovernable sense of panic, she sprang to her feet. ‘I … I can’t go through with this!’ she exclaimed unsteadily. ‘I don’t care what you say, I won’t let you blackmail me! If you can’t help me find Mike Kazantis, I shall fly back to San Francisco tonight.’

Jason turned from pouring white rum into a metal mixer. ‘Strong words,’ he remarked, his expression wiped of all humour. ‘However, much as I hate to say this, you came to me, Laura. I didn’t invite you here. And as you have given me the means to keep you here, why should I let you go?’

Laura swallowed. ‘You can’t force me to stay.’

‘No. I can’t do that,’ he agreed, adding a measure of orange curacao to the flask. ‘Nor do I intend to do so. I shall just make it—difficult for you to go.’

Laura gazed at him disbelievingly. ‘How could you do that?’

Jason shrugged, his attention fixed on the remaining ingredients needed to complete the cocktail. ‘Sit down,’ he advised evenly. ‘Wait until you’ve heard what I have to say. And stop looking so anxious.’ His tawny eyes lifted to her troubled face. ‘The prospect of going to bed with me used not to frighten you that much!’

Laura gulped and turned away. ‘You’re … despicable!’

‘Why?’ He fastened the cap on the container and shook it energetically. ‘Isn’t it the truth? I seem to remember you were not exactly opposed to our making love.’

‘It was not love!’

‘Would you know the difference?’ he demanded cynically, and then he expelled his breath on a heavy sigh. ‘Look. I don’t want to argue with you, Laura. It’s obvious we’ve got a lot of ground to make up. Right now, I suggest you have a Mai Tai and stop worrying about your fate. The future will take care of itself. It always has, and it always will.’

The crushed ice frosting the glass he held out to her was very appealing, and without really knowing why, she accepted the cocktail. Perhaps she needed the support the alcohol could give her, she thought miserably, sipping the chilled liquid. But it was delicious. She had to admit that, if only to herself. Jason had lost none of his skill … in any direction, she added silently.

Out on deck, two white-coated stewards had just finished laying the table. Its glassy surface was spread with bamboo place mats and shining silver cutlery, pristine white napkins reflected in the polished gleam of delicate cut glass. From somewhere, a centrepiece of star jasmine and scarlet frangipani, called plumeria in the islands, had been arranged, and a bottle of Dom Perignon was residing in an ice bucket. Set beneath the striped awning, it was at once open to the soft trade winds, yet protected both from the sun, and the inquisitive glances of other users of the marina. A millionaire’s retreat indeed, thought Laura, following Jason across the white painted boards. And how had Alec Cowray accomplished so much in such a short space of time?

‘Is everything satisfactory, Mr Montefiore?’ inquired one of the stewards politely, while his companion subjected Laura to an intent scrutiny. Laura had never seen either of them before, but she could guess what they were thinking. In her cheap pants and shirt and without any make-up, she was not at all the glamorous kind of female they were no doubt used to seeing. Had Alec Cowray filled them in on her previous relationship with Jason, she wondered. She didn’t know which was worse: the idea that they knew she had once been Jason’s mistress, or their avid speculation that she might be hoping to assume that role.

‘This is fine, thank you,’ Jason was saying now, his smile perfunctory but polite. He waited until Laura had taken the chair the steward held out for her before dismissing a similar attention and taking his own seat. ‘We’ll serve ourselves,’ he added, his crisp tone tempered by his manner, and the two men departed, evidently disappointed that their services were no longer required.

A prawn cocktail, arranged on pink-fleshed bases of papaya, had been served as an appetizer, and although Laura had not felt hungry when she sat down, the sun and the breeze, and the succulent aroma of the food were seductive. While Jason was uncorking the bottle of champagne, she took a spoonful of the juicy concoction, and it was so delicious that she took another. There were warm rolls, wrapped in a cloth and residing in a basket, and creamy curls of butter, cool on a bed of ice. With a feeling of resignation, she gave in to the temptation to taste the bread, too, and by the time her glass was filled with the effervescing liquid, she was actually enjoying her meal.

Jason, she noticed, ate little, and she was relieved to see he was not drinking much either. He seemed quite content to lounge in his seat, set at right angles to hers, playing with the stem of his wine glass and watching the antics of a pair of dinghies, tacking backwards and forwards across the blue expanse of Mamala Bay.

The stewards appeared briefly to clear away the dishes already used and to set two silver-domed tureens before them. Inside, Laura discovered two whole lobsters, halved and filled with a delicious thermidor sauce, with tempting mounds of saffron rice to accompany them. ‘Help yourself,’ advised Jason, offering her the serving tools, and with a little sigh, she lifted half a lobster on to her plate.

‘Do you want some?’ she asked nervously, feeling obliged to make the gesture, and he inclined his head.

‘Thank you,’ he said, allowing her to serve him also, and in spite of her apprehension, she managed not to spill any in his lap.

Forking a white piece of lobster meat into her mouth, she eventually said quietly, ‘Don’t you think this has gone far enough?’ She paused, and then added tensely, ‘You don’t really expect me to move back into your apartment, do you? I mean—why would you want me to? There are plenty of other women who would be only too—’

‘I don’t want plenty of other women,’ retorted Jason smoothly, laying his fork aside. ‘I want you.’ He met her eyes squarely, and she was jolted by the unguarded passion in the depths of his. ‘I’m being very civilised about this, Laura, because I sense that if I move too fast I’ll have you running scared. But don’t doubt my determination. It’s there. Believe me!’

She did. With her throat closing up suffocatingly, she found her appetite which had flowered so unexpectedly, closing up too. ‘But why?’ she demanded imploringly. ‘Why?’

Jason did not dignify her plea with a reply. ‘I don’t live in an apartment any more, Laura,’ he replied, pouring more champagne into her glass. ‘I have a house, approximately two hundred and fifty miles from here, on an island called Kaulanai.’

Laura stared at him. ‘Kaulanai?’ she shook her head. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

‘You wouldn’t have.’ Jason’s expression was indifferent. ‘It’s only a small island. Approximately fourteen miles long by seven miles across. But it’s beautiful. And it belongs to me.’

‘To you?’ Laura’s tongue circled her dry lips. ‘It’s your island?’

‘For my sins,’ agreed Jason wryly. ‘You would agree with that, I assume.’

Laura’s hands curled together in her lap. ‘And—and you expect me to live there?’

‘Not all the time,’ he assured her drily. ‘I still own the apartment New York, and I keep a suite in one of the hotels here in Honolulu always available.’

Laura took a trembling breath. ‘And what is your plan for Pamela? An expensive abortion?’

‘Of course not.’ Jason’s tone hardened in response to her sarcasm. ‘Though if that’s what she wants, it can be arranged.’ He paused. ‘But no. Your sister losing her baby was not part of my plan. I’m quite prepared to support her as well as you.’

Laura shook her head. ‘She’ll never agree.’

‘Won’t she?’ Jason put his glass aside and rested his elbow on the table, supporting his chin on his palm. ‘Right now, Pamela is alone and desperate. She has no job and she has no money …’

‘How do you know she has no job? Mrs Goldstein hasn’t fired her. Pamela’s a good physiotherapist …’

‘I’m sure she is.’ Jason shrugged. ‘However, an attempted suicide is not something easy to live down. And this Mrs Goldstein, did you say? She’s unlikely to want to go on employing someone with such … psychological tendencies.’

‘You make her sound like a mental case!’

‘No. I’m only saying she may find it difficult to take up where she left off, even should she want to. And you yourself suggested persuading her to go back to London.’

Laura sighed. ‘All right. So she’s in a difficult situation. I know that.’

Jason abandoned his confiding stance and lay back in his chair again. ‘Okay. So we agree on something,’ he remarked drily. ‘Let me put it to you that your sister would find life far more appealing without any money worries, without any responsibilities—except to look after herself and be happy. And you have to admit, the climate here is a little more appealing than London.’

Laura’s palms felt damp and she rubbed them hastily over the knees of her pants. ‘You’re suggesting we both live in your house on Kaulanai?’

Jason’s lips twisted. ‘Well—not quite as it sounds,’ he commented sardonically. ‘And I shall require you to do a little more than—live in my house.’