Dark Paradise (11 page)

'I think we've established that already—more than once.' His voice was icy. 'So what happened a few moments ago? Did you allow it to slip your mind?'

There was no answer to that. But for the interruption, she would have given herself to him, and she knew it. As, unfortunately, he did too.

She said bitterly, 'Oh, you're very persuasive. Your technique is probably faultless. But then it should be, with all the practice it's had.'

Thanks for the unsolicited testimonial.' He was very white under his tan, and his eyes were blazing. 'I've never slapped a woman in my life, but I could really make an exception with you, Kate.'

Her glance slid away, her voice was ragged. 'Just leave me alone!'

'That,' he said flatly, 'I can guarantee. I wouldn't have you, darling, even if you came gift-wrapped. But that doesn't mean you're being let off acting the part I brought you here to play. In public, we're lovers. In private-' he shrugged, 'you can crawl back into your shell.' He glanced at his watch. 'I'm going up to the hotel bar for a drink. Join me when you're ready, and we'll have a long lunch, gazing into each other's eyes.'

'And if I refuse?' Kate's chin lifted defiantly.

He said softly, 'Don't even consider it. And don't think to get your own back on me by broadcasting the real reason we're here, because that would really make me angry, and you wouldn't like that.'

For a long moment his eyes held hers, then he turned away and she heard the door slam and his quick stride going away.

A long, sick shiver shook her from head to foot, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, fighting for self-control, fighting, too, against an overwhelming urge to cry out, to call him back.

She put her elbows on the dressing table and hid her face in her hands.

She thought, 'My God, what am I doing? What have I done?'

She looked reasonably composed, Kate thought, as she walked through the grounds up to the hotel. She had changed into a bikini, covering it with a simple shift, striped in blues and greens, because she imagined that if she managed to get through the lovers' lunch he had described, they would probably spend what remained of the afternoon on the beach.

She couldn't find him right away, and she felt somewhat at a loss as she wandered through the reception area and the public rooms. One of them contained a bar, but it was deserted except for a lanky young man, hardly more than a boy, coiled moodily round a bar stool, staring into a drink.

He cheered perceptibly when he saw Kate, smiling hopefully at her. He looked lonely and at a loose end, and under different circumstances, she might have stayed for a chat and a drink, even though he was younger than her by at least a couple of years.

At last one of the smiling reception staff directed her to the terrace bar at the side of the hotel, overlooking the sea. Nearly everyone seemed to be there, sitting at the tables under the roof thatched with palm fronds, and Matt stood up as she appeared, and came across to her, taking her hand and bending to kiss her. She forced herself to remain passive under the swift, cold brush of his lips, although to any onlooker his greeting would have appeared tender in the extreme, she thought bitterly.

He gave her a steely look as he straightened. 'Come and meet everyone,' he suggested.

She was the cynosure of all eyes as she arrived at the table. Most of the smiles were friendly, she thought, as she returned greetings and listened to introductions, but a few of the women were giving her narrow-eyed looks as if they couldn't understand what a spectacular-looking man like Matt Lincoln was doing with an ordinary girl like her.

Don't worry, she wanted to assure them. I don't understand it either—especially what almost happened not an hour ago.

The least welcoming smile belonged to someone called Imogen who was dark, and as glossy and groomed as a magazine cover. She was with Robert who tended to be on the plump side, and Kate knew from a single exchange of glances that Imogen considered Matt a far more attractive proposition and was pardonably annoyed that he had company.

A girl who had been introduced as Fran, fair and pretty, leaned forward. 'Is this your first time on the island? You'll love it. It's still quite unspoiled, the tourist boom hasn't quite got here yet, but there are some marvellous places to eat.'

'You sound like a holiday brochure,' Imogen said sourly, her dark eyes pricing Kate's chainstore shift with probably total accuracy.

Fran shrugged, unruffled. 'Who cares? I love the place, and I want everyone else to do the same.' She beamed at Kate. 'What made you come here?'

Kate said feebly, 'It was Matt's choice. I—I didn't…'

'Well, we're glad you did,' Fran interrupted gaily. She shot Matt an impish look. 'An actual celebrity— unless, of course, you count Mr Big,' she added carelessly.

Kate swallowed. 'Mr Big?' She chanced a look at Matt, but his face was impassive. 'Who is that?'

Fran shrugged again. 'No one seems to know—or they aren't telling. But he seems to be behind most of the development round here. We went to see one of the old sugar plantations yesterday—they have it working as it used to be, but it isn't always open to visitors, and when we asked why not, they just muttered something about the boss's orders. Apparently it's on part of his land and he values his privacy. But it's certainly worth a trip.'

Then I'm sure it will be one place that we'll be visiting,' said Kate, the irony in her tone for Matt alone. She was half expecting someone in the group to say, 'Hey, you're in the media. Do you know who this man is?' but no one did. Matt was chatting easily to some of the other men about hiring a boat at the Anchorage, about scuba diving and fishing, as if relaxing and enjoying himself were the only things on his mind.

'And tonight there's going to be a jump-up,' Fran went on, her eyes sparkling. 'That's local for party. There was one the other night, and it was super. A lot of local dancers came in and entertained, and a steel band. There were even a couple of fire-eaters, and we all did the limbo.' She sighed. 'Not like the islanders, though. They don't seem to have any bones at all.'

Imogen wasn't interested in the islanders' anatomical structure. She was watching Kate. 'Do you work in television?' she asked abruptly.

There was enough bite in her tone to still the conversation round them, and Kate found herself flushing slightly.

Before she could reply, Matt said, 'Not on your life. I have a strict house rule never to get involved with my staff. Kate's an artist.'

'An artist?' Imogen's eyes studied her disdainfully as if searching for splashes of paint.

Kate forced herself to smile pleasantly, disguising her anger at Matt's blatant hypocrisy.

'Actually I illustrate children's books. Perhaps you've heard of Felicity Fawcett?'

'No,' said Imogen, although of course she must have done. Felicity was hardly publicity shy, and her books were immensely successful.

'I have,' Fran interrupted eagerly. 'My little cousin adores them. And you actually do the drawings? She'll be thrilled when I tell her I met you.'

'So she should be,' said Matt. 'Kate has an amazing talent.'

He looked at her and smiled, his gaze suggesting that they shared all kinds of intimate secrets, and there were some appreciative grins, mostly from the men around the table. She stared down at the drink which had been placed in front of her, hiding the angry embarrassment in her eyes.

The conversation became general again. Matt had said St Antoine was unsophisticated, but there seemed to be more going on than he'd thought, and there were a lot of invitations coming their way—fishing trips, swimming parties, dinners in town, jeep trips to the hills and to the rain forest at the other end of the island. If they accepted them all, then Matt wouldn't have time to get anywhere near this Mr Big, if he was the unknown target, Kate thought. But, of course, Matt wasn't doing anything of the sort. He was charming, he was interested in every suggestion, but committing himself to nothing. He was making it clear that he'd come there to be alone with Kate, not become part of a crowd, and no one was going to blame him or argue with that.

Kate sighed soundlessly, and sipped her drink. It tasted of fruit—mainly pineapple—but there was a potent kick underlying it all, which she felt she might be glad of before she was finished.

If she'd been on St Antoine with Matt for all the right reasons, the next half hour could have been one of the most magical ones of her life, because he was making love to her with every look, every smile. But that was his talent, she thought furiously. That was what he did on television—manipulating people, making them believe what he wanted.

And he was clever at it, she thought—God, he was! Only a short time before, he had sent her almost mindless with wanting him—not because he had expected them to be interrupted. On reflection, she acquitted him of that. But it would be far more convenient for him if she was his mistress in fact instead of just in pretence. He wouldn't be accustomed to sharing a room but not a bed, and in spite of everything he had said, he probably thought that any protests she might make would be merely token.

That had been Drew's attitude, and he'd been angry, violently and obscenely angry when he had discovered he was wrong. Even now, the fleeting memory of it had the power to make her freeze, every sense, every nerve flinching.

Matt said, 'Lunch,' and his hand closed over hers, pulling her gently to her feet.

'Oh, are you going already?' someone asked in a disappointed tone, and Matt said, 'I think I'd better feed her before she passes out on me.'

Fran was demanding, 'Are you going to come to the jump-up tonight?'

He smiled at her lightly. 'Doubtful. I think we'll probably have an early night.'

Kate half expected some ribald response to that, but no one said a word as they moved away.

He said, 'So what's the nightmare?'

'I don't know what you mean.'

'Of course you do,' he said impatiently. 'Just for a moment back there, you looked as if you were going to keel right over.'

She shrugged, making her voice expressionless. 'Perhaps I don't like a lot of strangers looking me over, speculating about what I'm like in bed.'

He looked faintly amused. 'Not even when they think you're a million dollars?'

'Especially not then.' She paused. 'And do you mind if I forgo lunch? I'm really not hungry.'

'I'd mind very much.' He sounded amiable, but his fingers tightened inexorably round hers. 'However justified your grudge against me, starving yourself won't help.'

When she saw the buffet spread temptingly under the trees, she had to be glad that he'd overruled her. She adored shellfish and there seemed to be an infinite variety to choose from, together with exotic salads and great bowls containing various sauces. Kate filled a plate, knowing that Matt was watching her, and expecting some mocking remark about her lack of appetite, but he said nothing.

As they sat down at a table, she said shortly, 'So, it's this Mr Big that you're after?'

'It is.'

'What makes him so fascinating? The fact that he's putting this island on the map?' Kate stared at him. 'Hardly the thing that interests you, surely?'