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Philip shook his head. ‘Alone, I think.’
But the bodyguard had been briefed at the highest levels.
‘You should not walk alone, even on this island. Rafek has sympathisers everywhere. It would be a great coup for him if he kidnapped you.’
For a moment Philip rebelled. ‘That’s hardly likely, surely? Coral Cove is a private island.’
The bodyguard sucked his gold tooth. ‘Been done before,’ he said reluctantly. It clearly hurt his professional pride.
‘But what about all those discreet surveillance cameras along the beach?’ said Philip.
The bodyguard shrugged. ‘Someone on the inside takes out a stretch of the lighting. Looks like an accident. Then Rafek’s men come ashore in dinghies. They take who they want and go. No lights, no outboard motors until they’re out to sea. No one knows until someone is missing from breakfast. There are just too many places to come ashore.’
He saw that Philip was frowning and misinterpreted.
‘You’re fine as long as you stick close to the main hotel,’ he said encouragingly. ‘And I’m never out of earshot.’
Philip ground his teeth silently. He could not ask about her! Now he could not even take a walk where he might bump into her! At least not without being observed. Was he to have no privacy?
But then he remembered the briefing that he too had read. To say nothing of the fierce men he had encountered in Rafek’s jungle stronghold only last week. His cool professional head told him that his subordinates were right.
And just at the moment people’s lives depended on him using his cool, professional head.
He nodded, reluctantly.
‘All right. No solitary stroll. You can walk me back to my cabin. Then I’ll work on the agenda for tomorrow. Fernando—can you let me have your minutes of that last meeting before you go to sleep?’
‘Yes,’ said Fernando, without resentment. He knew that Philip himself would be up long into the early hours, thinking about the issues.
Really, it was crazy that the bodyguard should have thought, even for a moment, that Philip Hardesty was looking for a woman. As long as he was working, Philip Hardesty had no time and no interest in anything but the project in hand. The man was a machine, thought Fernando, half-envious, half-repelled.
One thing was certain. Until the negotiation was successfully concluded, Philip Hardesty would not waste a second thought on any woman, thought Fernando. He waved the bodyguard away with a minatory frown and smiled reassuringly at his chief.
‘I’ll walk with you now, Philip. That should keep away the belly dancers.’ And he gave a conspiratorial laugh.
It was written all over his assistant’s face, Philip thought. He was rueful.
He thinks I’m not the sort of man to waste my time on feelings. And he’s right, God help me. It was not a pleasant thought.
And then, as he went into his cottage and locked the door behind him, I wonder if it’s terminal?
It was early when Kit first stirred. Hot dreams plucked at her. She turned restlessly, pushing the confining sheet away.
Still half-asleep, she thought she was in the sea. A sea god had come up the beach and carried her off. Not that she minded. She wanted to go. She loved the sensation of being in his arms, the power of it and the total trust. She went into the water with him, laughing.
Only now her feet were caught. They had tangled in some weed. She could not get free to follow him.
The sea god did not notice. He surged ahead of her, out to the open sea. Away. Leaving her.
‘Don’t go,’ she called after him.
But her voice was lost in the great distance between them.
She tried again, louder. ‘Don’t leave me…’
And woke herself up.
Kit jerked upright, breathing hard.
She couldn’t have said that. She couldn’t. Not even in a dream. It was what she had said to Johnny. She had promised herself she would never say it again.
She made to get out of bed—and found that her legs really were trapped. She half fell out of bed and only recovered her balance by hopping on the spot.
‘Typical,’ muttered Kit. ‘Start off tragedy. Turn to farce. Story of my life.’
Still, she felt better about the dream after that. She unwound the sheet, showered and dressed. Then she called Lisa.
Her brother-in-law answered. ‘Glad you’re here, Kit. Sorry I didn’t manage to catch up with you again yesterday.’
‘That’s OK. Lisa explained you were busy.’
‘Did she?’ His voice was dry. ‘Well, come up and have breakfast with us now. Unless you want to swim first?’
Kit looked at the sea. It was just twenty yards from her terrace and silver in the morning sun. It was wonderfully enticing. Except that there were two boats in the bay and a couple of figures running along the beach.
In theory the stranger had seen her in her swimsuit last night. But they had been in the shadows. He had not had the chance to look at her properly. The girl who did not look at herself in mirrors was not yet ready to appear in a swimsuit in front of other people, not even a couple of joggers so distant they looked like matchstick men.
‘No, my swim can wait. I’ll come up now.’
‘Great. I’ll order breakfast for three.’
But when she got there her hospitable brother-in-law was clearly on his way out after all.
One look at Lisa and Kit wished she hadn’t come. It was obvious they were in the middle of a row. Lisa had her bad-tempered terrier look and Nikolai’s brow was thunderous.
‘Hi, Kit,’ he said curtly. ‘I’ll see you later, Lise. This is the last day of the conference, I promise.’
Lisa shrugged her bare shoulders. Kit thought she had never seen a sarong look less alluring.
‘Suit yourself. No skin off my nose.’ She switched her attention to Kit ostentatiously and nodded at the breakfast set out on the terrace table. ‘Mango juice?’
Kit nodded, feeling helpless.
Nikolai hesitated. Then he bent to kiss his wife. Quick as a snake, Lisa turned her head. His mouth just brushed her cheek.
He straightened. A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘Tonight,’ he said levelly.
Lisa did not answer that at all. She sat staring out to sea as Nikolai stamped out.
Kit’s heart sank.
Lisa lost her terrier look. She leaned back in the rattan rocker and closed her eyes. For a moment Kit wondered if she really was ill. She looked very pale.
Eyes still closed, Lisa said wearily, ‘That’s what he says every morning. And every evening he comes back and says, “Just one more day, Lise.”’
Kit was uncomfortable. She was in awe of her formidable brother-in-law but she liked him.
‘Well, I suppose conservation is important.’
Lisa’s laugh cracked. ‘More important than his wife?’ She opened her eyes. They were wet.
Wisely Kit did not attempt to answer that.
Lisa answered it herself. ‘I know. I know. There is an ecological crisis here. If he thinks he has a chance to do something about it, he has to keep trying. But…’
I’m so lonely. It was what she had said to Kit on the telephone to London. She did not have to say it again. It hung in the air between them.
Kit thought suddenly: it’s probably the first time she’s been lonely like that in her life. She could always get any man she wanted. Maybe for once I know more than Lisa does about something.
She said slowly, ‘You have to talk to him about it, you know, Lisa. Sulks won’t get you anywhere.’
‘Sulks?’ Lisa was so outraged that her tears subsided. Kit saw it with relief. She did not really know what to do with a tearful Lisa. ‘That’s great, coming from a girl who didn’t open her mouth all through my birthday party.’
‘That’s not fair,’ protested Kit.
‘Yes, it is. Every one of Nikolai’s family tried to make you welcome in France. They wanted you to have a nice time. But you wouldn’t swim, wouldn’t ride, wouldn’t even join the dancing at the end of the harvest. What was that if it wasn’t sulks?’
Kit shifted her shoulders irritably. ‘Well, they’re grand.’
‘They’re my in-laws,’ corrected Lisa.
‘They’ve got titles,’ muttered Kit.
Lisa sighed. ‘So have I now,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘I’m a countess. Are you going to stop talking to me because of it?’
‘Don’t be silly, of course not.’
‘But you won’t talk to Nikolai’s grandmother because she is a countess too. You are such a snob.’
‘I’m not. I just felt out of place at the château.’
‘Oh, so you admit it now.’
‘No, I don’t admit anything,’ said Kit with heat.
They glared at each other. After a moment, a reluctant smile dawned.
‘You always did fight dirty, Lisa. All right, maybe I sulked a bit. Doesn’t make any difference to what’s going on here, you know. Refusing to kiss Nikolai goodbye isn’t going to sort anything out.’
Lisa gave a little explosive sigh. ‘When did you get to be an expert?’
Kit did not say ‘When I refused to listen when Johnny wanted to talk to me’. That was an episode Lisa still did not know anything about.
Instead she said, ‘What about that mango juice?’
‘Oh, all right.’
Lisa poured two glasses for both of them. She flung herself back in the rattan rocker.
‘I blame this place.’
‘But it’s beautiful,’ protested Kit, startled.
Lisa’s mouth tightened. ‘Exactly. Beautiful and stuffed with all the trappings of happy honeymoons. It just rubs it in when you’re not. Happy, I mean.’
Kit’s green eyes widened. ‘Oh, Lisa,’ she said, her heart going out to her sister.
‘Don’t sympathise with me,’ Lisa said dangerously. ‘Tell me I ought to count my blessings. Don’t let me cry, for pity’s sake.’
‘All right,’ said Kit obediently. ‘Look at the bougainvillea on the wall. It’s so bright it hurts your eyes. And you’ve got a lovely tan. And it’s going to be a gorgeous day.’
She turned her face into the soft breeze from the lagoon. It caught a few long strands of her newly washed golden hair and wafted them gently against her cheek. The breeze smelled of flowers. Kit stretched sensuously.
‘And the nights. I couldn’t believe it when I walked back last night. Have you ever seen such stars?’
Lisa bared her teeth. She looked ready to bite, like a blonde terrier scenting rats. It was alarming. ‘Don’t talk to me about the stars.’
Kit grinned, unalarmed. ‘All right. What have you got against the stars?’
The terrier look went out of Lisa’s pretty face. She shook her head, so that the fashionably sculpted hair flew.
‘Oh, it’s no fun looking at them by myself, I suppose,’ she said with a flickering smile. She sighed. ‘You’re right, of course. Nikolai promised and—Well, I guess I’m not cut out to be the well-behaved little wife waiting while he does the important stuff.’
Kit choked. But she managed to keep a straight face. ‘No,’ she agreed in a strangled voice.
Lisa narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re laughing at me.’
‘Who, me? I wouldn’t dare.’
‘Yes, you would.’ Lisa gave a quick shrug, as if she was casting off the bad temper. She gave Kit a rueful smile. ‘Quite right too. Your first time in a tropical paradise, and all I can do is spoil it by moaning! Laugh all you want.’
Kit said comfortingly, ‘He said his meetings would be over today.’
‘And pigs might fly. Meanwhile I’ve got to put up with being called the bride in Orchid Cottage,’ said Lisa with feeling.
Kit laughed. ‘Ah, well, I can tell you about that. I was talking to one of the gardeners yesterday. He said that this place was all set up for people to have the last word in luxury tropical weddings. Only then the war broke out. These days all the guests they get are men in suits. So every time they see a woman, they think, wow, here come the good times again.’
‘Oh,’ said Lisa, her ferocity dying. ‘I didn’t think of that. Poor things.’
