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‘Such as?’ he taunted, raising one eyebrow indolently.
Her body was shaking so much that she had to clutch the back of a chair for support. How could she tell him the truth? That the real reason she wanted to come here was because it was the one place on earth where she had once been perfectly happy. A happiness based on being with him. That was the last thing she wanted to admit to him now.
‘I don’t see that it’s really any of your business,’ she said. ‘But if it’s any comfort to you, I did feel guilty and worried about the thought of spending money on a holiday, although the few thousand dollars it cost for this would just be a drop in the ocean compared to the debts I’m going to owe very soon. But as a matter of fact I didn’t pay for this holiday. It wasn’t even my idea that I should take it. It was my mother’s and she put up the money for it, not me.’
‘Your mother?’ echoed Richard in surprise. ‘Do you mean you’re seeing her these days? I thought good old Daddy had forbidden it.’
‘Don’t speak about my father in that hateful, sneering voice,’ blazed Emma. ‘I was twenty-one when he died, a grown woman. I know he and my mother were on bad terms after the divorce, but I felt I had to make my own choice about what I did.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Richard bitterly. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t stand up to him on a few other issues, or maybe you wouldn’t have stuffed up your life the way you did. You were certainly well and truly under his thumb when I knew you.’
‘I wasn’t!’ cried Emma.
‘Really? I beg to differ. In fact, I’ve always thought that if it hadn’t been for good old Daddy maybe you wouldn’t have jumped into bed with Nigel Wellings while you were still married to me.’
Emma’s skin went cold and clammy with horror at this cruel reminder of the past.
‘You bastard!’ she hissed. ‘You know damned well it didn’t happen like that. Look, if you’ve just come here to insult me, it’s a total waste of time. Now do me a favour, will you, and leave?’
‘No,’ said Richard softly.
‘I’ll have you thrown out!’ threatened Emma.
He gave an unpleasant laugh.
‘Really?’ he taunted. ‘Now that will be interesting. What will you tell the hotel staff when you ask them to come and throw me out? After all, darling, I’m your husband. You told the man at the desk you were expecting me tonight. He made a point of mentioning it to me when I asked about you. Won’t it all be rather embarrassing for you?’
Emma shuddered and fell silent. The scene would not merely be embarrassing, it would be utterly unthinkable. But before she could say another word, Richard continued in a dangerously silky voice, ‘So you’ve got a lover, have you? Well, I can’t say that really surprises me, knowing you as I do. But I rather object to having him smuggled in under my name. Who is the lucky man anyway?’
‘Nobody!’ cried Emma. ‘I only said that because they were offering to put me at a table with other tourists. I wanted a. bit of privacy!’
Richard’s even white teeth gritted together in a feral smile.
‘I’ve told you once you’re a barefaced liar,’ he murmured. ‘And now I’ll say it again. I don’t believe you.’
‘Well, I can’t care what you believe!’ cried Emma in a voice shaking with rage. ‘Because it’s all over between us, isn’t it? So why don’t you just get out? Go on, get out!’
‘Oh, no,’ said Richard, still with that same dangerous smile. ‘I’m not leaving till you’ve heard my proposition. You see, Emma, I just may be able to save you from bankruptcy.’
Emma’s whole body felt suddenly cold and still.
‘You’d do that?’ she breathed. ‘But why? I always thought you hated me.’
Richard’s blue eyes narrowed shrewdly.
‘Maybe I do, but I have my reasons. I’ll tell you about them over dinner tonight. Of course, there’ll be conditions.’
‘Conditions?’ said Emma in a high, frightened voice. ‘What kind of conditions?’
Richard’s fingers flexed and unflexed slowly as if he thought he was holding her in the palm of his hand.
‘Conditions which I don’t think you’ll like,’ he purred. ‘But then that’s part of being rich enough to call the tune, isn’t it, Emma? You probably remember the pleasure of holding that kind of power, don’t you, sweetheart? Now, what time would you like to eat? I’ll tell you what. You put on your prettiest dress and I’ll call for you at seven…’
After the door had closed quietly behind Richard’s departing back, Emma sank down on one of the chairs in a daze of disbelief. So often in the past she had daydreamed fervently of the day when Richard would seek her out. Somehow all the festering hurts and longstanding bitterness that had sprung from their estrangement would be smoothed away and they would feel the same passionate love for each other that they had felt when they first met. But never in her wildest moments had she dreamt of a reunion like this one. Meeting Richard again so unexpectedly had shocked her beyond measure. And all the old wounds which she had thought healed, or at least numb, seemed to have broken open afresh. A raw, painful sense of humiliation assaulted her as she thought of this recent encounter. There had been no doubt whatsoever that Richard still hated her. Equally, something in the expression in his eyes told her there was no doubt that he still desired her. Just as she desired him. The shameful, humiliating fact was that she only had to look at him to experience a flood of pulsating warmth through her entire body. If only he had come back to her in love, not hatred, she felt certain that they would now be naked together in the big bed upstairs. Covering her face, she let out a low groan. Why had he come? Why? Why? Why? It made no sense. Why should he want to save Prero’s from certain disaster? If he hated her, wouldn’t it make more sense simply to let her sink without throwing her a line? And what sort of proposition did he have in mind?
She couldn’t answer these questions and brooding over them only gave her a headache and a strong urge to burst into hysterics. Pulling herself together with an effort, she rose to her feet. There was no sense in worrying herself sick. It would be more sensible to go out for a swim, change into her best clothes and meet him at dinnertime on her own ground, as the hard-headed, cool businesswoman she had become in the past few years. Setting her lips grimly, she rummaged in her bag and found a large beach towel, a skimpy emerald-green bikini, sandals and a bottle of suntan lotion. Thus equipped, she made her way down to the pool.
The setting was idyllic and, if she had not been so upset by Richard’s unexpected arrival, all her worries would have ebbed away at the sight of it. In fact, it wasn’t just one pool but several winding in a serpentine pattern in and out of the landscaped gardens. Two or three changing-huts, open to the breeze and with orange tiled roofs, offered welcome shade, while carved stone elephants on the tiled surrounds of the pool squirted water from their upraised trunks. In the background a line of palm trees flailed like green windmills in the breeze from the ocean. Emma slipped out of the sarong that she was wearing over her bikini and dropped it on to a bench in one of the changing-huts. Then she slid into the deliciously warm, silky water. It was heavenly to lie back floating and stare up into the cloudless blue sky. If only Richard hadn’t come, this would have been a marvellous vacation. Perhaps it still would be if only she could persuade him to go away and leave her in peace. For somehow she had an ominous sense of certainty that his proposal to save Prero’s was going to come at a price that she wasn’t prepared to pay.
She found out how accurate that presentiment had been when she and Richard met for dinner that evening. He arrived on the dot at seven o’clock looking coldly handsome in a lightweight white dinner-jacket, black trousers and white shirt. Emma had dressed equally carefully. Not because Richard had told her to put on her best clothes, but because the knowledge that she looked as glamorous as possible gave a badly needed boost to her confidence. She had swept her dark hair up into its usual chignon at the back and she was wearing a long frock of scarlet chiffon with a sweetheart neckline and a gold and pearl necklace around her throat. Tawny eyeshadow brought out the gold flecks in her eyes and a light touch of blusher high on her cheekbones concealed her pallor, while her lips were painted a defiant scarlet to match the dress. Richard gave her a small, ironical bow when she opened the door to him.
‘Very attractive,’ he commented.
‘Thank you,’ she said curtly. ‘Shall we go?’
The restaurant was on the fifth floor of the main hotel building with a panoramic view over the ocean. The front door was flanked by two huge statues of fierce-looking Indonesian warriors intricately carved in stone and lit from below so that their eyes seemed to gleam wickedly. A smiling girl in a scarlet sarong came forward from behind a desk flanked by masses of greenery to ask their names.
‘Mr and Mrs Fielding,’ said Richard as casually as if they had been together for the past eight years.
‘Of course, sir. Please come this way.’
The restaurant was dimly lit in order to take full advantage of the magnificent view over the ocean and Richard seemed to loom like a caveman beside her as they picked their way through the flickering candlelight. At last the waitress showed them to a table discreetly secluded by an ornate carved screen from the rest of the room and with a superb view of the moonlit ocean far below. Emma felt as nervous and tongue-tied as if she were fifteen years old when Richard held out one of the cushioned bamboo chairs so that she could sit down. When he was seated too, the waitress spread large scarlet napkins on their laps and handed them each a menu.
‘May I get you some pre-dinner drinks, sir?’ she asked.
‘Emma?’
‘Oh, just a gin and tonic for me,’ said Emma hastily.
She felt far too agitated at this moment to know or care what the local drinks were, although normally she was quite adventurous when it came to sampling regional specialities.
‘That seems a bit tame,’ said Richard, his eyebrows shooting up. ‘I’ll try the arak cocktail myself. But I do hope you are going to be a little more adventurous when it comes to choosing food, darling.’
Darling! thought Emma scathingly. Well, that was definitely for the benefit of the waitress, not her. But why was Richard behaving like this? Was it simply good manners to avoid embarrassing other people by displaying the hostility between them? Or was there something more to it? She was relieved when the waitress returned with their drinks and she was able to take a sip of the bitter, refreshing liquid. In the background a western-style dance band began to play softly with a catchy rhythm and again that odd sense of unreality took hold of Emma. If it hadn’t been for the tell-tale muscle twitching in Richard’s cheek, she might have thought they were here for a second honeymoon. When the waitress returned to take their orders for the meal, the illusion was intensified. Letting his fingers close briefly over Emma’s hand, Richard looked up at the waitress with the heart-stopping smile that had once made Emma go weak at the knees. Then he turned the smile back on Emma full force and she made the disturbing discovery that it still did make her go weak at the knees.
‘I think some chicken satay with peanut sauce to begin with, don’t you, sweetheart?’ he suggested. ‘And after that the rijstafel to share. And perhaps a platter of tropical fruit to follow. Oh, and please ask the drinks waiter to bring us a bottle of champagne.’
But when the waitress had glided away, Richard’s smile vanished too. Leaning back in his chair, he drummed his fingers on the table in a rapid, staccato beat and scrutinised Emma’s face with far less charm.
‘I heard that Nigel Wellings went broke after he left you,’ he announced.
Emma opened her mouth to protest that Nigel hadn’t left her. In fact it had been the other way around. And then she wondered wearily what was the use. After all, she had grown used to Nigel’s spite. He had been coldly furious when she had explained to him after a few months that she had mistaken her feelings, that she did not love him and never could. And on her father’s death she had asked him to leave Prero’s for good. He had never forgiven her and he had also told her in no uncertain terms that her money had been the only thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. Naturally that had hurt Emma’s pride, but on the whole she had found it an enormous relief. Genuine love that ended was such a painful experience that she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even Nigel. And when he’d spread the rumours around Sydney that he had walked out on her, she had thought it more dignified not to protest. She thought it more dignified even now.
‘Yes, I heard that too,’ she said coolly, taking another sip of her drink. ‘It was unfortunate for him.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ said Richard in a dangerously mild voice. ‘In my opinion, it couldn’t have hap pened to a more deserving man. But I suppose that if you were in love with him you may have felt differently about it.’
Emma flinched and said nothing, but fortunately the wine waiter arrived at that moment with their champagne and made a great fuss of uncorking and pouring it.
Still studying her face, Richard picked up his glass and smiled grimly as the man departed.
‘Mind you, I did think you might come crawling back to me like a whipped puppy after he left you,’ he announced in conversational tones. ‘But I was surprised to find that you did have some pride, Emma.’
Emma had always had an explosive temper. Now, with her nerves ragged from the events of recent months, Richard’s needling was simply too much.
‘A puppy, Richard?’ she mocked. ‘Surely not. You’re making a bad mistake if you think that I’m any kind of a lap-dog, darling. All you’ll get from that theory will be a bite on the wrist.’
Richard swirled the champagne in his glass and looked at her over the rim. Then he took a sip and set it down.
‘Oddly enough, that’s quite a tempting prospect,’ he said quietly. ‘You still haven’t lost your sexual allure, you know, Emma. As a matter of fact I still find you quite powerfully arousing.’
Emma caught her breath and stared at him in horror. Why did he have to say such things even if he thought them? And yet, although the tone of his voice was so dry that it robbed his words of any emotion, they still had a powerful impact. To her dismay she felt a shameful heat beginning to throb through her entire body. She bit her lip, terrified that she might make the equally outrageous statement that Richard hadn’t lost his sexual allure either. Swallowing hard, she managed a small, cynical smile.
‘You flatter me,’ she said. ‘But I find it hard to believe.’
‘So do I,’ agreed Richard grimly. ‘After all, you’re flat-chested, only passably pretty and your nose is too long. Added to that you’ve been spoiled rotten from birth, you have no conception of loyalty, you’re extravagant, wilful and heartless. I just can’t imagine why I should still find you attractive. But, oddly enough, I do.’
Emma’s fury exploded like a supernova at these provocative words. Catching her breath, she stared back at him with glittering jungle-cat eyes.
‘Really?’ she challenged. ‘Now you, on the other hand, are God’s gift to women. Handsome, charming, rich, irresistibly sexy and possessing a wonderful way with words. I just can’t imagine why I don’t find you attractive. But, oddly enough, I don’t!’
Richard’s powerful brown hand came out and closed over her wrist.
‘Don’t mock me, Emma, or by heaven I’ll make you regret it,’ he said through his teeth.
‘Stop making ridiculous threats, Richard!’ she snapped. ‘And come to the point. What is this proposition you want to discuss with me?’
‘It’s very simple, Emma. I propose to offer you a ninety-day bill, which will allow Prero’s to keep trading for the next three months. In addition, I’ll come to your rescue with that damned office block of yours. You need a tenant, I need new premises. Fielding’s is expanding so rapidly we’ve outgrown our present quarters and I’m prepared to take over the lease you were offering Sawford’s.’
A wave of shock and relief swept through Emma at this announcement. Her father’s company need not go broke after all! She could still hold up her head and face the employees who depended on her for their livelihood.
Then seven years’ experience of the cut and thrust of the business world settled on her like a damp, chill blanket of wariness.
‘On what conditions?’ she asked suspiciously.
Richard’s lips drew back in a feral smile.
‘Two,’ he said softly. ‘The first is that I am appointed managing director of Prero’s immediately. With my expertise I believe that I can turn the business around and have it trading profitably by the end of three months. At that point you can resume control yourself if you wish.’
Emma’s brain raced.
‘And the second condition?’ she asked, her throat constricting.
Richard paused before he replied. In the flickering candlelight, his eyes had a glitter that was almost menacing and his voice when he spoke was low and husky.
‘That you come back to me as my wife—in the fullest sense of the word—during the three-month period in question.’ He spoke as drily as if he were outlining a business clause. ‘At the end of that time we can review the situation and make a final decision about our intentions. I imagine we’ll get a divorce then.’
Emma almost swooned with shock at the outrageous implications of this suggestion.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked in a voice sharp with alarm. ‘What do you mean “wife—in the fullest sense of the word"?’
Richard took another sip of champagne and smiled thinly.
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ he demanded. ‘I mean that we begin living together again. Sleeping together.’
He spoke the last two words with unmistakable relish.
Emma stared at him in disbelief.
‘Why?’ she burst out. ‘You’ve just told me I’m spoilt, disloyal, extravagant, wilful and heartless!’
‘All true,’ agreed Richard. ‘You left me for another man simply because of a stupid quarrel which wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference to any woman with an ounce of maturity or commitment. I’ve never forgiven you for that, Emma.’
‘So what possible reason could you have for wanting to sleep with me now?’ challenged Emma. ‘You’re not going to tell me it’s love, are you?’
Richard’s grip on her fingers tightened cruelly and his blue eyes glittered like chips of ice.
‘Oh, no,’ he murmured throatily. ‘Not love, Emma. Revenge.’
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6455d120-5e9a-5b42-9c17-504b3d142ea5)
EMMA was stunned that Richard could sit there smiling so blandly while uttering words that cut her to the heart. She swallowed hard, trying to contain her dismay. The silence between them lengthened. Plucking a frangipani flower out of the cut-glass bowl in the centre of the table, she crushed it unthinkingly in her fingers and inhaled its piercing sweetness. But before she could make any reply, the waitress arrived with the satay, creating a welcome diversion. Mechanically Emma put two of the little sticks with their juicy morsels of chicken on her plate and added a generous dollop of crunchy peanut sauce before giving the girl a strained smile. Yet when the waitress had departed she made no move to eat.
‘Your food’s getting cold,’ Richard pointed out genially, as if his previous words had been nothing more harmful than a comment on the weather. ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’
She shook her head.
‘Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me coldly that you want to sleep with me not out of love but just out of some power-crazed lust for revenge?’ she blurted out at last.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’ she cried.
‘Exactly for that reason,’ replied Richard, swallowing a morsel of chicken and smiling at her. ‘Power. I want to be in control of the situation for once instead of being some kind of bloody puppet for you and your father to manipulate.’
‘You were never that!’ exclaimed Emma indignantly.
‘Wasn’t I? Look, Emma, I married you because I fell in love with you and for no other reason, but right from the start your father tried to pretend I was after your money. And you were fool enough to believe him.’
‘I didn’t!’ exclaimed Emma. ‘I wouldn’t have cared if you had had nothing. I left home and married you, didn’t I? And lived in that horrid little house in Woolloomooloo?’
‘And kept running back to Daddy every two minutes trying to kiss up to him,’ retorted Richard scathingly.
‘Only because I loved both of you. I wanted you to be friends. Is that so unreasonable?’
Richard gave a mirthless jeer of laughter.
‘It was when you were dealing with someone like Frank Prero,’ he retorted. ‘He was determined to part us right from the start.’
