скачать книгу бесплатно
She watched him stride into the house. Had she made him angry? She couldn’t tell and she didn’t care. He’d asked for her opinion and she’d given it.
‘Enjoy the scenery’, he had said. Well, she would. She was in no mood to converse with people who destroyed nature for the sole purpose of adding on to their wealth. She took a deep breath of the fragrant air and glanced around. Massive old trees—oaks and hickories and hemlocks—shaded the house. Delicate Japanese maples with their wine-red foliage added elegance and large azaleas brightened the grounds with splashes of bright colour.
She was not meant to have peace and quiet, because Sean appeared minutes after Chase had gone back into the house. He draped an arm possessively around her and she stiffened instinctively. She had never done that before and she knew it was a sign, clear and immutable in its meaning. It was over between them. She did not love him. She could not love him. Her throat ached and she swallowed painfully.
‘I was looking for you,’ he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. ‘Nice party. What are you doing out here?’
‘I just wanted a little fresh air.’ Obviously his anger towards her had cooled, but she could not ignore the significance of the incident in the car. She couldn’t stay blind to Sean’s selfish and disrespectful attitude towards her.
‘What do you think of Chase?’ he asked.
‘Very imposing. Consummately self-confident.’
Sean laughed. ‘Too bad his brother Breck isn’t here. He’s in the Far East negotiating another deal. The two of them make quite a combo. I think I’m going to make out like a bandit on this one,’ he said with smug satisfaction. ‘Everybody and his dog wants to see the rainforest these days.’
Sean was one of the potential investors of the project, be it a small one, but his enthusiasm was large. He hadn’t told her many details and she hadn’t understood the extent of the project until she’d seen the mock-up and other displays this evening. She didn’t feel like talking to him about it and getting into another argument. One argument with him in a day was quite enough. She said nothing.
His hand stroked the nape of her neck. ‘I’m sorry I upset you earlier,’ he went on. ‘But please be reasonable about this trip.’
Fresh anger rose to her head. She moved away from him, gritting her teeth. Sean’s definition of reasonable was giving in to his wishes.
‘You don’t have to go, do you?’ he asked when she did not reply.
Despair mixed itself with her anger—a bitter concoction. He had not changed his mind. He didn’t take her seriously. She swallowed hard. ‘The answer is yes and no. Yes, of course I have to go. This is a fantastic opportunity. And no, I don’t have to go—not as in being obliged to because I’m being ordered by a superior.’
‘So it comes down to the fact that you want to go.’
Anger was taking the upper hand now. ‘Of course I want to go! It’ll be good for my career. You don’t get it, do you? Tell me honestly why you don’t want me to go on this trip!’
‘It’s dangerous, camping out in the wilds like that. You might catch something.’ He was looking the other way as he said it, as if he didn’t quite dare to look her in the face.
She gave a mocking little laugh. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Don’t make me laugh.’ He was making excuses, as if his objection stemmed from his concern for her welfare rather than his own self-interest.
‘You’ll be gone a long time.’ He looked grim.
‘A month. Surely you can survive a month without me.’
‘We’ll have to cancel next weekend.’
‘Yes. I am sorry about that.’ They’d been invited by one of his friends to spend a weekend on his luxury yacht cruising the Chesapeake Bay. She’d looked forward to it, but sacrifices had to be made sometimes. Was it too much to ask from a man that on occasion he accommodate a woman’s career needs?
Sean sighed impatiently. ‘Sky, I needed the time off! I’ve worked at neck-breaking speed lately and I need some relaxation!’
‘You can go without me, Sean.’ She felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. She didn’t want to have this conversation. It was hopeless and useless, and he simply refused to understand.
His jaw went rigid. His grey eyes looked icy. ‘That wasn’t the plan. I want you with me.’
‘I know, but sometimes plans need to be changed,’ she said wearily. He was acting like a spoiled brat. Not an endearing quality in a manor anyone else, for that matter.
‘I thought you’d want to be with me. I thought we…had something.’
You’re wrong, she thought, feeling sadness overwhelm her. ‘I think you’re being extremely selfish, Sean. Why can’t you see that this trip is important for my career?’
He said nothing. It was a very eloquent silence and she felt her heart sink.
‘You don’t really think my career is important, do you?’ She heard the dull resignation in her own voice. She’d recognised the truth, but had resisted putting it into words until now. ‘You seem to think it’s some sort of hobby.’
‘Very few photographers ever make it big, Sky. You know that.’
She tensed. ‘I’ll make it, Sean. I am making it. I’ve done very well this past year.’ Her Hope series had been exhibited in the Benedict gallery in Washington D.C. She’d had several very good assignments. It just took time and perseverence in this business. And a lot of hard work. ‘I support myself, I pay taxes, I have no debts and I own my own house.’
‘A barn, Sky,’ he said with a dismissive gesture. ‘You live in a barn.’ He said it as if she slept in the straw with the pigs.
However, she did live in a barn—a remodelled old red barn—and she loved it. It was certainly an eccentric place to live, but it was spacious, comfortable, unique and it suited her needs perfectly. It was, obviously, not up to Sean’s sophisticated standards. Well, she’d had enough of Sean and his sophisticated standards.
‘You don’t respect my work and you belittle my efforts and you don’t like where I live,’ she said bitterly. ‘I have no idea at all why you’re interested in me and why you can’t live without me for a month.’
‘Don’t start, Sky,’ he warned.
She gave a derisive little laugh and suddenly the weariness was gone and anger gushed from her. ‘I’m starting nothing! I’m finishing something! I cannot tolerate that kind of disrespect from you, Mr Managing Director! You may have a big title and a huge income, but you have a very small mind!’ She whirled around and marched away, her legs unsteady. What was it that gave him the right to feel so damned superior? She stormed inside the large party-room, and out of the first door that came into view, straight into a hard, broad chest.
The impact stopped her in her tracks. Her face was pressed against the smooth cotton fabric of a shirt. Her gasp drew in a clean, male scent. Her cheek took in the warmth that came through the shirt. Her body flooded with a tingling, intoxicating warmth.
‘Well, well,’ Chase drawled. ‘Are you running out on my party?’ He had an arm around her in an effort to steady her.
She struggled out of his embrace, fighting for composure. ‘I’d like to,’ she said tightly, ‘but I’ll have to wait for my ride.’ It was not going to be a pleasure trip home. Sean’s anger would not suddenly disappear.
He lifted a quizzical brow. ‘Not enjoying yourself? Something wrong with the food perhaps?’
‘No. Something’s wrong with men.’
‘That’s quite a sweeping statement.’
‘I’m sweeping mad.’
He laughed. It was a deep, rich sound, and suddenly she found herself cracking a smile, her sense of humour getting the better of her. His eyes gleamed into hers.
‘You have a way with words. So what’s wrong with men?’
‘They’re selfish, manipulative, arrogant and into control,’ she said loftily. ‘Haven’t you watched Oprah lately?’
‘I can’t say that I have, but I don’t consider myself too old to learn. How about a drink to calm you down?’
He wanted to calm her down. She smiled nicely. ‘Would you say that to one of your male business friends when he was angry?’ Her tone was light.
He frowned, thinking. ‘Not exactly like that.’
‘You’d slap him on the shoulder and say, You need a drink, man; let’s go.’
‘I’m afraid if I slapped you on the shoulder you’d crumple.’
She groaned. It was hopeless, hopeless. She couldn’t help being small and blonde. She evoked in people protective feelings, which was nice if you came down with galloping pneumonia and needed nursing, but in normal life it was infuriating.
‘I don’t crumple. I’m very strong, actually, and yes, I would like a drink. Something more potent than champagne—anything.’
Chase studied her with amused curiosity. ‘Coming up.’
Moments later she had a glass of whisky soda in her hand and she took a grateful swallow. She wasn’t much of a drinker of strong stuff, but on occasion she liked it.
‘I like your dress,’ he said as his eyes skimmed over her. ‘It’s very—er—woodsy.’
It was short and supremely simple in line and would have been discreetly elegant had it not been for the exotic pattern of the silk fabric. Its leafy design of many shades of green contrasted with small splashes of vivid red, yellow and blue, which on closer inspection could be identified as parrots hiding in the greenery.
‘Thank you,’ she said brightly. She wondered if he meant what he said. ‘Not everyone shares your opinion.’ Sean had been less than enthusiastic and asked why she couldn’t have worn something not quite so flamboyant, like basic black. She was not fond of basic black. It made her feel very depressed and depression was not an uplifting emotion.
‘Black would look more elegant and sophisticated,’ he’d instructed her.
She’d laughed. ‘Sean, I thought you’d have noticed by now that I am not the elegant, sophisticated type. I crawl around in the woods and commune with bugs and birds. I feel at home in this dress.’ She liked being surrounded by trees and bushes and birds, and she loved parrots. And in view of the rainforest hotel project she’d thought the dress eminently appropriate. She’d bought the dress in a sale. It had originally been very expensive, but apparently women with a lot of money had considered the dress too wild for their taste.
Chase’s eyes gleamed. ‘The parrots I find especially intriguing.’
‘Papuan King Parrots,’ she informed him. ‘Alisterus chloropterus.’
‘Ah, an ornithologist,’ he stated.
She shook her head. ‘A photographer.’ She smiled innocently. ‘Every time I hike through the woods, I keep looking for parrots. I never see one.’
His mouth quirked. ‘Let me do you a favour,’ he said. ‘Looking for tropical parrots in a forest in Virginia is a losing proposition.’
She bit her lip, trying not to smile. She was not successful. ‘It’s not nice to shatter someone’s dreams, you know.’ Her voice was light, yet the atmosphere between them was anything but casual. Something was in the air—something reflected in his eyes, the tone of his voice.
His green eyes did not leave her face. ‘Somehow I don’t think that’s what I’m doing.’
She sipped her drink, saying nothing, feeling her pulse quicken, feeling a strange apprehension.
‘So, what else are you interested in, apart from photographing parrots?’ he asked casually.
Why didn’t she believe he was as casual as he sounded? As if his question had some hidden purpose?
‘I like travelling, but I haven’t had many chances, and I like hiking and camping and white-water rafting.’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, really.’ She was used to people’s surprise. She didn’t look the sporty type. She was too small and too blonde and too feminine, and even her short, sporty hairstyle did nothing to dispel that image.
‘And you?’ she asked. ‘What do you do in your spare time? Play golf? Ride horses?’
He inclined his head. ‘Of course.’ He tossed back the last of his drink, and then someone claimed his attention and she gratefully slipped away.
She wanted to go home. She’d had enough of smiling politely and making conversation for the sake of making conversation. Of course Sean would want to stay. He loved this sort of thing. Networking, it was called—making contacts. She should be networking herself. After all, you could never know where a new assignment could originate, and there were a lot of influential types prancing around here. But tonight she didn’t feel up to it. She wanted to go home and cry and wallow in self-pity.
She clenched her hands involuntarily and swallowed at the lump in her throat. When she was nineteen her life had been perfect and she’d thought it was going to be perfect for the rest of her life. By the time she’d turned twenty her world had crumbled around her.
She’d been so young, so idealistic, so full of dreams. It seemed like another lifetime. Now, sometimes, she felt wise and old and cynical. It was not a nice feeling, and not one she intended to cultivate.
She glanced around the room, finding no Sean. She had a raging headache, which was not so surprising considering the circumstances. She’d been up very late last night doing paperwork and reading up on Mexico. The little bit of sleep she’d caught had been fitful and full of confusing dreams. And now this confrontation with Sean…She rubbed her forehead, feeling physically exhausted and emotionally drained.
Where was he? Impatiently she roamed around, her feet hurting. She wasn’t used to wearing high heels, although it did give her an enjoyable sense of being a bit taller, and more elegant. Ten minutes later there still was no sign of him. She was beginning to feel uneasy and her head throbbed painfully. On impulse she slipped out of the front door and went in search of Sean’s car, a white Pontiac Fiero. She wished she’d come in her own car, an ancient little sky-blue Jeep, so that she wouldn’t have been dependent on Sean to see her home. Not that her little Jeep would have felt at home among the lofty vehicles in the parking area, she thought as she scanned the impressive collection of expensive cars. There was no sign of Sean’s Fiero.
It was gone, leaving an open space between a shiny charcoal Mercedes Benz and a metallic blue BMW.
For a moment she stood very still, incredulous.
He had left! He had left without her! The swine!
She didn’t know a soul at the party. They were miles out in the countryside in an isolated historic plantation house. She didn’t even know where she was exactly. Sean had been driving and she hadn’t paid much attention.
She’d been dumped. There was no other word for it. Leaving her stranded was Sean’s revenge, no doubt. She should have known. She’d told him he had a small mind, and this was proof. No class, no manners. How could she possibly ever have liked the man? It was frightening to think how blind she had been. How hopeful. How stupid. She swallowed painfully.
Her head throbbed and she rubbed her temples. She went back into the house and headed for the bar. She needed a drink, some juice or water. She needed to get rid of this headache—she was beginning to see stars. She was beginning to feel dizzy.
She needed to figure out a way to get home. Surveying the room, she studied the guests. All the men wore very expensive suits. All the women wore very expensive dresses, none with parrots. Not a single familiar face, not a single person she could impose on to take her home. It was almost an hour’s drive away. And forget a taxi. It would take care of her food budget for the month even if she could manage to get one out here in the back of beyond, which was highly unlikely.
She asked for a glass of orange juice with ice and went in search of a quiet place and a chair to sit in. The marbled entrance hall was empty. If she sat here for a while, maybe her head would stop hurting. She noticed a door slightly ajar and glimpsed a desk, a bookcase, a large sofa.
A sofa! She pushed the door open and slipped in, closing the door behind her.
She needed to lie down—just for a little while. She was going to pass out if she didn’t. She put the glass down on the massive oak desk, using a discarded envelope from the wastebasket as a coaster. Kicking off her high heels, she lay down, closed her eyes and tried to empty her head of all thought. It was heaven. She heard the muted sounds of talking and laughter from other parts of the house. The quiet in this study was like a balm for her tortured head. In a little while she’d get up and tackle the problem of transportation.
* * *
When she awoke it was too late to tackle the problem of transportation. It was three o’clock in the middle of the night and the house was silent as a tomb. She felt panic rise and forced it down. This was not the end of the world. It was merely excruciatingly embarrassing.
She swallowed back a laugh. Oh, God, leave it to her to get into a situation like this. She struggled into a sitting position and stared into the darkness until her eyes adjusted. It wasn’t all that dark. A wave of moonlight swam through the window, washing the massive wooden desk in a silver sheen.
Her headache was gone. This was good news.
She needed to go to the bathroom. This was bad news.
There was a bathroom off the entrance hall, she had discovered earlier that evening. Unfortunately, running water made noise. What if the green-eyed tiger heard her? At least, she assumed he was asleep somewhere in this mansion. Oh, God. She could see it now. He’d come in search of her in black silk pyjamas. He’d pounce on her.
Well, she simply had no choice. She tiptoed out of the door, across the oriental rug that graced the marble entrance hall. A large, curving staircase swept up regally to the second floor.
She found the bathroom and prayed he would not hear the running of water after she flushed and washed. The mirror produced a nightmarish sight. Her mascara and eyeliner had smeared all over the place. Her hair was standing out in every direction and looked like a bleached mop in the garish light. It wasn’t bleached. It was perfectly honest blonde hair, but somehow she looked like a tramp, especially with her dress now wrinkled disastrously. Poor abused parrots. She bit her lip and chuckled.
She tiptoed back into the study and sat down on the sofa, waiting with bated breath for sounds of footsteps in the house. Nothing. After a few minutes she began to breathe more easily.
She needed to collect her thoughts.
