Sweet Seduction (8 page)

Ten

He slid the car into a parking space. It was quietly busy. Taxi drivers hung about waiting for a call from the hotel. Rows of yellow beach-buggies, hired by visitors, cooled down after racing round the island. The security guards did not look friendly in the dark and Kira was glad to have such a tall man at her side. She knew her fears were unfounded.

"It used to be called Long Bay Castle," said Giles, steering her towards the massive house. "It’s the finest old Colonial house in the Caribbean. Its thick walls even survived the terrible hurricane of l831."

There was a definite pride in his voice, though Kira was aware from the tone and timbre of his words that he did not take the place all that seriously. Yet the commercialism that had robbed the castle of its uniqueness had saved it from falling into a ruin.

"The hurricanes are pretty devastating," he added. "I hope we don’t get one while you’re here."

It was a white wedding cake of a building.

The 18th Century plantation house had been extended into an elaborate French-style mansion of the period. It stood on a low rocky cliff that looked out onto a coral beach, shaded with coconut palms and sea grape trees. It was turreted and crenulated along the top of the flat roof and Kira was reminded of the smaller pink castle that her grandfather had built for his young bride.

* * *

Dolly pressed herself against Reuben with all the vigour of a young, untamed body. Reuben wrapped his arms round her tightly, then even more tightly, almost crushing the breath from her slender frame. They had not seen each other for two days and the urge was overpowering.

He tasted the sweet, hot scent of her skin, feeling the softness of her hair against his neck. It drove him mad. Her strong young hands were digging into his back, pulling him closer.

"This is my living and loving," she murmured, her thoughts in disarray. To be apart from Reuben would be like death itself. Yet she had to tell him the news.

"Benjamin Reed has asked me to marry him," she said at last, when the urgency of their hot kisses was lost in exhaustion.

Reuben jerked back. "No. Dolly, you can’t mean it? Damn him. Tell him you can’t. You will, won’t you? You’re going to marry me."

Dolly smothered a giggle. "But when? You haven’t asked me and Benjamin has. He wants to marry me soon at a big church and he’s going to build me a grand new house on St James’s. He’s bought the ground already, right near the sea. It’s going to have proper bathrooms with water and a kitchen."

"Dolly, do be sensible. Don’t even think of it. Benjamin Reed is a middle-aged man. Let him marry somebody else. Someone nearer his own age. There’s plenty of single women who would jump at the offer. Dolly, you and I, we’re together, aren’t we? I thought for always, forever." His voice was tinged with bitterness.

Her laughter rang out. "Of course, we’re together," she teased. "But Benjamin wants to marry me and he’s not that old. He’s only thirty-something. That’s not even middle-aged. This house is going to be
all pink," she added dreamily.

"Listen, you idiot girl."
Reuben put his hands on her bare shoulders and tried to make her look at him. "You don’t marry someone for the sake of a house or bathrooms. You don’t prostitute yourself for a pile of pink coral. I hope you told him no. A very definite no, thank you."

"I didn’t do nothing of the sort," said Dolly, shaking his hands free. "And don’t use that nasty-nasty word about me or I will think you have been free with those buy-me-now girls down by the market, with their swinging hips and painted eyes. Oh yes, I’ve seen them making mouths at you."

"Don’t be a damned fool, Dolly. As if I would go with any other girl, any girl at all, when I’m crazy about you. You know that I love you. Wait for me, please. You know marriage is out of the question until I’m twenty-three at least. Twenty-five would be better, that’s when I come into my grandmother’s money."

"Money doesn’t matter," said Dolly, snuggling up to him, twisting her foot round his leg and rubbing his bare skin. It was a slow, sensual movement. "I would live in a shack on the beach with you."

He groaned with frustration. "You are going to live at Sugar Hill when I am the master. Promise that you won’t marry Benjamin."

"Promise," she whispered, her lips against his mouth, her tongue tracing the warm curve of skin. His nerves tingled as she wove her spell.

* * *

They approached the four flights of blue and white marble steps leading onto the open porches. It was like the film set of a Thirties movie. Kira half expected to see a row of dancing girls.

She could hear the pounding surf of the reef that perpetuated the Sam Lord legend. It was easy to imagine flickering lanterns in the trees, and the storm-blown ships crashing into the treacherous reef amid the terrible cries of the drowning sailors. She shivered.

"I told you there were ghosts," said Giles. "The island abounds in stories."

"I don’t believe in ghosts," said Kira firmly. But she did believe in a different kind of haunting. Her ghost was a young woman called Jenny, gazing up at Bruce with adoring eyes, telling him that she was pregnant and loving the moment.

She hardly took in the interior of the castle, only that it was beautifully preserved with the original woodwork and ornate plaster ceilings. She saw herself in huge mirrors that also reflected the fine paintings and Regency furniture that might have been treasure trove from a wreck. Carefully-tanned women in long dresses were coming down the elegant staircase under the high-domed ceiling. Glittering chandeliers enhanced their jewels.

"I’m not wearing a long dress," said Kira.

"People wear what they like. There’s probably a special function in one of the rooms. Don’t worry, you’ll see other guests in Bermuda shorts and sun tops."

Giles took her arm possessively and this time Kira did not flinch. The atmosphere of the castle was evocative and bewitching as if Sam Lord was luring her into his clutches too.

"Upstairs is Sam Lord’s bedroom, with the original four-poster bed and drapes. Downstairs are the dungeons where he imprisoned members of his family who got in the way, even his poor wife. I think they’ve been turned into offices now."

“Why did he imprison his wife?”

Giles slowed his long stride, as though alerted by a sudden tenseness in Kira’s body. She was surprised that she should feel so deeply about the suffering Sam Lord had caused, as if the elegant decoration covered over real blood stains and the soft music disguised the whimpers of those imprisoned. A small, inarticulate sound escaped her lips and in a moment his hands were on her shoulders, turning her face towards him.

"This place upsets you, Kira," he said slowly. "I’m sorry. I didn’t realise there was a soft core to the cool Miss Kira Reed from London. We’ll leave immediately and find a fish restaurant in Oistins."

Kira shook her head, trying to clear the strange feelings, to be in command of herself again. To rid herself of Bruce’s cruelty too.

"No, there’s no need," she said, taking a deep breath. "But I think I would prefer the other restaurant in the garden. All these antiques are a little overpowering and it’s so hot. I’m not used to your marvellous climate yet."

"Cobbler’s Reef it’ll be then. You’ll love it. There’ll be a steel band playing and the gardens are gorgeous."

Giles was right. They were shown to a moonlit table, set with gleaming silver and crystal glasses reflecting a flickering candle flame from among a wreath of flowers.

Kira began to relax to the soft beat of the music. Here she could forget the decadent white house at the back of the gardens, with its terrible history. She deliberately chose the chair which had a view of the not-too-distant sea.

"We have wonderful food in Barbados," said Giles, not handing her the second, unpriced menu. "But I’ll introduce you to our exotic Bajan dishes slowly. Will you let me choose for you tonight?"

Kira nodded. She doubted if she could read any menu in this light. And Giles was implying with his remark that he would see her again. It was probably an inborn politeness. They were such polite people. He glanced at the menu then put the heavy leather folder aside.

"We’ll start with the flying fish and spicy dip. Flying fish is practically our national symbol," he added. "Then grilled red snapper and side salads. I hope you don’t mind two fish dishes? The chef here cooks fish to perfection. It’s his speciality."

His charm could be devastating. His eyes glittered with a wicked cast of humour that Kira was not used to. They smiled over their glasses of chilled German Hock. No subject was taboo. He even made fun of her leg.

"So you’ve had a busy day, limping the length of St James?"

"The beaches are lovely. I met a man washing his goat in the sea. Then I went inland and bumped into, I mean literally – a breadfruit nearly hit me – an old gardener pruning a breadfruit tree. It was a very unusual pink house with statues of lions and eagles. At least, I think they were meant to be lions and eagles. It was difficult to tell."

"That’s Fitt’s House," said Giles, knowing. "One day I’ll tell you its history."

* * *

"Is this really going to be your house?" Dolly asked with awe. She hesitated in the unmade drive, staring up at the half-built villa. "Wow!"

"Yes," said Benjamin. "I’ve always dreamed of living somewhere special. Not a traditional great house like Sugar Hill or Farley House, but something so different people will stop and stare."

"They’ll certainly stop and stare at this," said Dolly, stepping carefully over the piles of rubble. "It looks like a castle, a fairy pink castle."

"Careful. The stone mason’s chippings are sharp. You might cut your feet."

Dolly looked at Benjamin with interest. People didn’t care if she hurt herself. She often fell from things. He was older but he had a nice face, pleasant and easy-going with sea-faring eyes. Not handsome like Reuben. Nor was Benjamin tall. He was lean and wiry, his thatch of hair bleached by the sun.

The coral stone was a rich shade of pink that would soften with time. The house was already built to the first floor, a sweeping flight of steps leading up to the front door and veranda.

"What are these?" she asked, running her hand over half-finished animal and bird shapes that stood about.

"Statues. They’re supposed to be lions and eagles but the stone mason has never seen a lion or an eagle. He’s doing the work from pictures."

Dolly laughed and the sound rang out like music. "They are so funny," she said. "They don’t look anything like eagles and lions."

"Don’t tell him they’re funny," said Benjamin, unable to take his eyes from her face.

"Of course not, silly. I would never hurt anyone’s feelings."

"I know that," he said, watching her closely. "That’s why I care for you so much."

"Don’t say that," said Dolly, suddenly panicking. "I haven’t said anything. I haven’t agreed. Look, I’ve only come to see your house."

"I know that. I won’t push you into anything. I’m glad that you’ve come. I wanted you to see what I’m building for you."

Benjamin reached for her hand but Dolly was already skipping away, her interest taken by something else.

* * *

The meal arrived and it was delicious. Giles was right. The
chef cooked fish to perfection.

"I’m glad to see that your appetite has returned," said Giles, as Kira picked at the decorative design of sliced fruit and vegetables of the side salad. "You had a mere sparrow’s breakfast this morning. In fact the sparrows ate more than you. I was beginning to think you were one of those women who are always on a diet. You are far too thin, all bones."

"I’ve always been this slim," she lied.

It was not true. The weight had fallen off her since Valentine’s Day. It was one way to lose weight but not to be recommended.
She went quiet. The aching place inside the halls of her head hardened into a knot of pain. Her mind was a cage, lost in a prison of her own making.

"Thin, I said, not slim."

Their eyes locked across the table. Kira could not fathom the message in those dark, glinting nuggets of ocean blue. It was more than a casual interest. A burning look as if he was striving to imprint his authority on her. Cinderella never had to cope with that kind of look from Prince Charming as they waltzed around the ballroom floor. Not that Kira could waltz any more. She loved dancing but dancing was out.

Giles was even on her wavelength.

"So, how come the limp?" he asked briskly. "Some irate client trip you up on the way out of a high-powered board meeting?"

"Do you always ask so many personal questions?" Kira was bewitched by the music.

"No, only when I like someone. Then I want to know all about them. You are a mass of contradictions. One minute angry and the next sensitive and upset. Sometimes you act the efficient businesswoman, then in a flash you are a lonely little girl. Kira, you intrigue me. I want to know what the real Kira Reed is like," he said evenly. "And I’d like to understand you."

"That’s an unlikely event," Kira heard herself saying. "I doubt if I shall ever see you again after tonight. There’ll be no reason."