Dark Paradise (17 page)

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Authors: Sara Craven

BOOK: Dark Paradise
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He walked over to the patio doors and pressed an unseen switch in the frame which caused them to slide back, then stood waiting for Kate to precede him into the sunshine.

She noticed that he hadn't said 'stepmother' and that there had been a note of constraint in his voice, and wondered about it as they crossed the patio.

There were steps, a lot of them, wide and shallow and bordered by banked shrubs, and at the bottom she could see the azure gleam of water. It was a wide oval pool, the surrounding area flagged by coloured stones in various muted shades. At one end, a kind of pergola had been constructed, protected from the full heat of the sun by an elegant awning, and two figures were sitting there.

Aware that she was under close scrutiny, Kate lifted her chin and stared back.

Jethro Alvarez was a bull elephant of a man. She had only ever seen blurred newspaper photographs and occasional glimpses of him on television, but he had clearly put on weight in exile. One of the island shirts, gaily patterned, strained over his heavy body, and the bright, shrewd eyes seemed almost hidden amid rolls of flesh. Hands like hams, their backs lightly sprinkled with black hairs, clasped the arms of the chair he was sitting in.

Beside him, the woman appeared almost ethereal, but a closer look revealed a figure that bordered on the voluptuous in her jade green raw silk dress. Kate saw a beautiful, rather sulky face, the full mouth tightening in angry petulance.

On the table between them stood Kate's bag, looking prosaic and a little sorry for itself in such exotic surroundings. She felt her temper rising. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her shirt, and looked mutinously at Jethro Alvarez, who was making an effort to rise to greet her.

'Miss Marston?' The faint Irish burr in his voice seemed deliberately emphasised, she thought. 'Welcome to my house. May I introduce my wife, Leanne. My son, Carlos, you have already met, I think.'

Kate said stonily, 'How do you do.'

He smiled, showing strong, rather crooked teeth. 'We were about to have an aperitif before lunch. I hope you'll join us for both.'

'I'm not dressed for a lunch party,' Kate said. 'Nor am I hungry.'

'Then we shall have to tempt your appetite,' Jethro Alvarez said genially, subsiding into his chair which groaned under his weight.

He turned to a respectfully hovering servant. 'Bring Miss Marston a dry Martini, Jakey, and I'll have the same. And a Campari soda for my wife.' He picked up Kate's bag and held it out to her. 'This is yours, I believe?

'You know it is.' She made no attempt to take it. 'I hope it told you whatever you needed to know.'

He laughed, the shrewd eyes appraising her. 'It told me remarkably little. Except that you seem to be a tidy person. For an artist, that is surely unusual.'

Kate shrugged. 'Boring, you mean? Conventional?'

'Hardly that. If you were those things you would not be staying on the island with my old friend and adversary Matthew Lincoln. When I was acquainted with him he was not, of course, the celebrity in your country that I understand he has become.'

'He's certainly very successful,' Kate agreed woodenly.

'And very ambitious, I think. It was a quality in him that I always admired. He stood out among the other foreign correspondents with whom I came in contact. But this time he has overreached himself.'

Kate raised her eyebrows. 'Really? In what way?'

He sighed. 'Must we prevaricate, my dear Miss Marston? His visit to St Antoine was made with the object of seeking me out, as we both know quite well.'

Kate stood her ground. 'I don't know anything of the sort.'

He gave her a weary look. 'Your loyalty does you credit, Miss Marston, but I would have found your profession of ignorance more believable if you hadn't accepted my identity and my continued existence quite so unquestioningly.' He smiled again. 'You follow me?'

She felt a dull flush stain her cheeks, but she returned his mocking stare inimically.

'Of course you do,' he went on blandly. 'And now that we have established where we stand, I hope we can relax a little. Your drink, Miss Marston—and, Jakey, bring the lady a chair.'

Kate accepted the glass she was offered and the seat, because it would have seemed foolishly churlish not to, but she couldn't relax.

'Would you prefer to join us under the awning?' Alvarez asked courteously. 'I prefer the shade, and my wife, like many Creoles, likes to guard her complexion.'

Kate wasn't altogether surprised. Leanne Alvarez might look sullen, but she had a skin like a magnolia.

Carlos, she realised, had disappeared, presumably back to the house. It was silly to regret his absence, because he was no ally, yet she did. But for the sketch of Matt in her book, he would have let her walk away from the beach earlier, she was sure. She sighed inwardly. That sketch had trapped her in more ways than one.

'You are a talented artist, Miss Marston.'

It was as though the big man in front of her could read her thoughts, and she jumped a little.

'Do you go in for portraiture as a general rule?'

'Er—no, I was telling your son. I illustrate books and do other commercial work.'

'Perhaps you have missed your vocation.' Alvarez produced the sketchpad suddenly, rather in the manner of a conjuror taking a rabbit from a hat. 'The likeness here is unmistakable.'

'I think successful portraits require rather more than that.' Kate sipped her Martini, made in the American way, and heady stuff.

'You don't regard this as a success?' He held up the pad.

No, she thought, it came from pain and longing and unrequited love.

Aloud, she said calmly, 'I find it hard to be objective about that particular drawing, for obvious reasons.'

As she spoke, her eyes met Leanne Alvarez's gaze and encountered a look of such smouldering resentment that she almost gasped out loud.

'Look at this,
querida
,' Alvarez gave the drawing to his wife. 'You remember Matthew Lincoln, of course. Isn't this the image of him?'

Leanne hardly glanced at it. She shrugged. 'Perhaps. It was a long time ago.'

Alvarez watched her, still smiling. 'Not so very long,
querida
. But soon you will be able to make an up-to-date judgment—when he also joins us.'

'You think that he will?' Kate took another sip of her drink.

'I know it,' said Alvarez. 'If only to satisfy himself that his lady is safe. And then you will both be my guests for a little while.' He sighed. 'I shall be sorry to leave this place. I did not believe any place other than Santo Cristo could ever seem like home to me, but I was wrong.'

'So you mean to keep us here while you move on somewhere else?' Kate said slowly. 'But isn't that just delaying the inevitable? If Matt found out you were alive and where you were living, then others will too. You can't stay in hiding for ever.'

'I have no intention of doing so,' Alvarez said sharply. 'I have other plans, but they are still at a delicate stage. Your lover's intrusion has come at an inopportune moment.' He shrugged wryly. 'But I have been fortunate so far.'

'Perhaps he won't come here.' Kate was playing with the stem of her glass. 'Perhaps he's gone back to the Anchorage in the boat and is phoning the world press at this very moment, telling them all where you are.'

He shook his head, smiling. 'You underestimate your charm for him, I am sure. What do you say, Leanne?'

Leanne remained silent, but hunched an irritable shoulder. She didn't say much, Kate reflected, but she could look volumes.

'We will delay lunch for a little while and wait for him.' Alvarez was saying.

Kate shrugged. 'Fine—but you might get very hungry.'

Alvarez shifted in his chair, his smile widening as his gaze went past Kate. 'I think not,' he said softly.

She put down her empty glass and turned. Matt was walking towards them, Carlos by his side. She jumped up and ran to him. 'Matt!'

He said sharply, 'Are you all right?' He held her away from him, his eyes searching her face.

She nodded, fighting tears. 'I'm sorry—I've made such a mess of everything, haven't I?'

'That,' he said, 'remains to be seen.'

Holding her hand, he walked towards Alvarez. 'Good afternoon, Señor Presidente. How nice to meet with you again. I'd expected it to be in the next world rather than this one, however.'

Alvarez chuckled, his bulky body shaking with mirth. Tor a little while, my friend, perhaps. But you were not deceived for long, may the devil fly away with you. Now I must go on my travels yet again.'

Matt's eyebrows lifted. 'I fail to see why. Why not a spectacular resurrection, courtesy of National Television?'

Alvarez's shoulders shook. 'Because,
amigo
, it would be the shortest resurrection in the history of the known world. My enemies would see to that, if only because they had been made to look foolish by so readily accepting my death. How long do you think I would last once they learned where I was?'

'As long as you wanted,' Matt said blandly. 'How many attempts did you survive in Santo Cristo? Three, was it, or four?'

Alvarez laughed. 'In those days, my friend, we lived in interesting times, but no longer.' He gave a deep sigh. 'I am an old man in exile, broken in health, broken in spirit. The will to fight has gone out of me.'

'Señor Presidente, you're breaking my heart,' said Matt in frank appreciation. He shrugged. 'But if that's your last word, then I'll just have to accept it.'

Alvarez nodded. 'You were always a realist, my friend. And now let us relax and enjoy this beautiful day that the good Lord has sent us, and the lunch which my chef has prepared,' he said prosaically.

Leanne Alvarez stood up, smoothing her jade dress over her rounded hips.

'I will order it to be served,' she said, her voice low and husky. She looked full at Matt, her full lips parting in the first smile Kate had seen from her. 'Welcome, Matthew. It is good to see you again.'

Matt took her extended hand politely in his. 'Señora Alvarez.'

'Oh, come,' she pouted. 'It was always Leanne in the old days.'

His mouth twisted slightly. 'You were not married in the old days.'

'Jethro,' Leanne swung towards her husband, 'tell him there is no need for this formality.'

Alvarez's face was enigmatic. 'As she says,
amigo
, there is no need for such—old friends to be on such formal terms.'

As she glanced from one to the other of them, Kate's uneasiness increased rapidly.

The speed with which lunch was served almost took her breath away. A table appeared and was laid with the efficiency of long practice, and chairs were assembled around it. Kate had imagined she wouldn't be able to eat a thing, but to her surprise she found she was doing full justice to the consomme, and to the poached red snapper in its creamy sauce with saffron and clams, so much so that she was forced to say a regretful no to the flan made with coconut puree which followed. Matt and Jethro Alvarez talked easily together, discussing the changes that had come to the island over the past few years, although Alvarez's role in these changes was touched on only lightly. Seated between Leanne and Carlos, Kate found herself rather isolated. Leanne toyed with her food, her extravagantly lashed eyes flickering between Matt and her husband, while Carlos applied himself to his meal in sullen silence.

Kate ventured a few remarks to him, but received only monosyllabic replies. The contrast between the carefree boy on the beach and his present attitude was quite incredible, and she wondered how easy he found it to live in his father's shadow. Or was it Leanne who brought about the change in him? she asked herself, remembering his odd reference to his father's wife.

The meal over, coffee was served, and a box of long, dark cheroots was brought. Alvarez took one. 'A reminder of home,' he remarked, gesturing to Matt to help himself. He gave a sentimental sigh. They were good days,
amigo
. It is a long time since I had a chance to talk about them with someone who remembers too. You will stay for a day or two—indulge an old man's whim for nostalgia?' He bowed gallantly towards Kate. 'And your lovely companion, of course,' he added.

Kate tensed, and she glanced at Matt, wondering how she could warn him about Alvarez's real intentions, willing him to look at her. Their eyes met, and he raised an eyebrow coolly, questioningly, before transferring his attention back to Alvarez.

'Our privilege, Señor Presidente.' He lifted his cognac in a toast. 'I shall need to telephone the hotel, of course, to explain our absence.'

'That will be done,' said Alvarez , smiling.

Matt continued unruffled, 'And I've arranged to call a friend of mine at the Anchorage this evening. He's a nervous guy, and unless he hears from me in person, he might start alerting all sorts of outside agencies!'

There was a long, heavy silence, as the two men looked at each other. Kate felt a trickle of perspiration slide into the cleft between her breasts.

At last Alvarez shrugged. Then, naturally, you must make your call,' he said with a touch of resignation. 'I am a realist also. I hope you will confine the call to essentials.'

Matt said with a faint smile, 'You have my guarantee.'

Alvarez drank his coffee and heaved himself out of his chair. 'And now you must excuse me. I always rest these days after lunch. But my house, my gardens are at your disposal. Swim in the pool, use my library, the projection room if you wish. And we will meet at dinner. Come,
querida
.' He held out an imperative hand to Leanne, who rose to her feet without any great enthusiasm.

'Just a minute.' Kate found her voice. 'You—you can't keep us here like this. It's ridiculous!'

Jethro Alvarez gave her a reproachful look. 'Señorita—as my honoured guest.'

Matt intervened, 'I think Kate is a little overwhelmed by everything that has happened, Señor Presidente. And a little concerned over the fact that we have only the clothes we stand up in,' he added.

Alvarez made a negligent gesture with the cheroot. 'There is no problem—no problem at all. Carlos and my wife will be happy to loan you anything you need for your stay, isn't that so,
querida
?' he queried, drawing Leanne's hand through his arm.

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