by Susan Napier
‘What about your original Helen?’ Honor retorted, easing herself away, determined that he would never be able to call her gullible again. To her surprise he let her go.
‘My Helen of Troy?’ He smiled, but it was a smile of amusement rather than remembered passion. ‘She wasn’t much for expressing herself in words. I left my letters in the proverbial hole in the tree and her replies were usually a matter of a few lines to tell me where and when to meet her. We were star-crossed lovers, you see, and the illicit nature of it made it all that much more exciting.’
Honor compressed her mouth. ‘Could you roll over, please? I want to get this last one underneath you.’
‘Certainly. Oh, that’s my favourite,’ he said, peeking. ‘Isn’t that the one where you said I was—?’
She crushed it to her misshapen chest. ‘Goodnight, Adam,’ she said firmly, stepping away from the dangerous territory of his bed.
He stood up and stretched, as contented as a well-fed cat. ‘And sweet dreams to you, darling. I certainly know I’ll have them...’
He walked her to the door, her dignity suffering badly from the loud rustle she emitted with every step. Once there she waited stiffly while he opened it. But before he let her make her escape he caught her back and kissed her, briefly and hard, a promise rather than a threat, his hands running possessively down the whole length of her spine and back up to knead the tension from her shoulders as he told her soothingly, ‘Everything’ll be fine in the morning, you’ll see. A good sleep will put all this in its proper perspective. There’ll be no more nasty surprises and awkward complications to get in our way. From now on we can just concentrate on you and me...’
* * *
He couldn’t have been more wrong!
Next morning, passing through the hall on her way to an early breakfast, alive with feverish anticipation of the promised new day, Honor stopped to answer the front door.
Outside stood a major new delivery of worry and complication, parcelled up in the most exquisite wrapping.
‘Surprise!’ her sister carolled, dropping her hat-box and spreading her arms in a parody of the welcome that wasn’t forthcoming.
‘Honor, you naughty thing, you didn’t tell me you’d been temporarily elevated to the landed gentry. I had to find out all on my own. Aren’t you going to invite me in to meet your generous penfriend?’
CHAPTER NINE
IF HONOR’S arrival had caused surprise, Helen’s created a sensation.
Tania, who might have been expected to feel pique at the eclipse of her own beauty by a more celestial body, instead was positively gushing, showing no sign of the hostility that she directed at Honor.
And Joy, typically, was delighted. Of course Honor’s sister was welcome and of course the unusualness of the hour didn’t matter—country people were always up early; in fact, wasn’t it silly for Helen to go back to Kowhai Hill when her sister was staying right here? Why didn’t Helen stay, too?
Honor watched as Helen accepted prettily.
‘How convenient that you just happened to bring your luggage along with you,’ she murmured ironically.
There was no point in trying to whisk Helen quietly away now. The damage had been done the moment Adam stepped out of the dining-room to see what was causing the commotion in the hall. He had looked stunned, then an expression of unholy delight had crossed his face and he had almost tripped over himself in his rush to draw her inside.
Helen gave her one of her famous cool looks. ‘I’m a seasoned traveller, darling, I’m always prepared for contingencies. I didn’t know what your plans were and I’d rather be at a civilised hotel than that spooky little house in the middle of nowhere if I’m going to be alone.’
Even Sara seemed to have abandoned her usual insouciance, regarding Helen with an awed fascination that was uncomfortably like her father’s. Maybe she was thinking that Helen would be better competition for Tania after all, thought Honor ruefully.
Ten minutes after she had arrived Helen was sitting at the head of the family breakfast-table, drinking black coffee and daintily eating fingers of dry toast, regaling the household with the amusing story of how she had tracked Honor down. After letting herself in at Kowhai Hill with the key from under the flower-pot the previous day she had waited all night for Honor to turn up.
‘I was beginning to think that my sensible, level-headed sister had finally decided to kick over the traces when who should turn up on my doorstep this morning but the local constable! Some old duck had reported seeing activity in the house when everyone knew that Honor was away.
‘I think the poor policeman nearly had a heart attack when I answered the door.’ Helen sent a coyly smouldering look towards the man of the house, as if inviting him to imagine the next bit himself. ‘I’d been in the shower, you see, and I was only wearing a wrap...’
Adam smiled and responded obligingly.
‘I’ll bet he did,’ he murmured, his warm brown eyes appreciating the view of a filmy white blouse that was almost, but not quite, transparent under her linen jacket.
Helen laughed huskily, pleased. ‘When he finally calmed down, the dear man offered to bring me over in his patrol car. Wasn’t that sweet of him?’
‘You could have telephoned first,’ suggested Honor drily, knowing full well that it was blatant curiosity, not concern, that had brought her sister rushing over to visit.
Helen was too busy smiling back at Adam, her almond eyes veiled with the look of seductive mystery that had graced a thousand billboards, to worry about the possible inconsistencies in her story.
‘Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. Anyway, on the way over, Mr Plod told me all about that awful man demanding money with menaces and how Honor wrote it up for the newspapers.’
Helen managed to drag her attention off Adam long enough to give her sister some praise.
‘How terribly clever of you, sweetie, to turn what must’ve been a ghastly experience for everyone into such an advantage.’
Honor smiled weakly. The compliment was not only dubious, it was also thoroughly undeserved. She could hardly admit that she had been drifting about in such a haze that she had forgotten all about her supposedly ruthless ambition until Adam had jogged her memory later on the day that he told her about the arrest by telling her he had arranged for Detective Inspector Marshall to grant her a joint interview with himself that very evening. Honor had tried to pretend airily that he had merely pre-empted her own imminent actions but she had the feeling that Adam had known damned well that it had all been bluff.
The rest of the Press had had to wait until the next afternoon, when the disturbed man had appeared briefly in court to be remanded in custody for a psychiatric report, before they got their first official police statement, and by that time Honor was ringing papers up and down the country offering to fax them her backgrounder. It had been snapped up and syndication overseas had nicely plumped her bank balance, to the extent that she had rung the garage and told the long-suffering mechanic that she could now afford to have her VW back. It was sitting in the drive right now, beside Adam’s Mercedes.
‘So...you stayed with Honor a fortnight ago, didn’t you?’ Adam was saying innocently. ‘She didn’t tell me you were expected back again so soon...’
Honor felt her neck prickle at the subtly accusing undertone in his remark but her sister quickly let her off the hook.
‘That’s because I wasn’t. It was impulse, really, because we were shooting up at the Barrier Reef when this cyclone started looming up on the weather map so we picked up the pace and finished the assignment three days early. I thought, Why not pop in on my way back to New York?
‘I’m afraid I had to rush away last time, you see, just when Honor was getting all hyped up about that silly St Valentine’s thing, and I must admit I felt a teeny bit guilty about not having been more sympathetic and helpful...’
‘What St Valentine’s thing?’ asked Tania, perking up with interest in something other than the attire
and exciting lifestyle of their glamorous new guest.
‘The ball we went to in Evansdale earlier this year. Honor was one of the organisers,’ Adam said smoothly, turning back to Helen to change the subject. ‘It was certainly good of you to make the effort to call on Honor. She’s fortunate to have such a thoughtful and caring sister—and such an incredibly beautiful one, of course...’
‘Why, thank you,’ murmured Helen, shyly lowering her incredibly long lashes. Helen, who had never been shy in her life! thought Honor resentfully.
‘Since she’s been made so welcome by my family I think it’s only fair that I get a chance to get to know hers a little better, don’t you?’ Adam flicked a sly glance at Honor on his right before propping his chin on his hand, the better to focus his teasing charm on the woman on the other side of him.
Honor’s heart sank as Helen gave her attractive, sexy gurgle. ‘Oh, better than a little, I hope, Adam!’
‘I’m sure we’ll find time in the next few days,’ he murmured.
Honor’s pride was singed, as well as her heart. Was he shutting her out of his attention as a sort of punishment in kind for yesterday? Or was there a more complex reason? Had he suddenly realised the mistake he would have been making if his impulsive seduction had succeeded? Or had it been seeing Helen again that brought him to his senses?
Lying in bed last night, she had been unable to stop the heated little scene between them replaying endlessly in her head. She suffered cold chills of humiliation and hot flushes of excitement every time she remembered Adam’s predatory expression as he had taunted her about the letters. Excitement had dominated. His gloating triumph had not been the reaction of a man who intended to walk away and leave the fruits of victory untasted! And yet he had let her walk away from him, just as he had done earlier in the study. Perhaps he was confident of the sinuously tempting thoughts that he had implanted in her mind...
Honor sighed. It might all be academic, anyway, now that Helen had arrived. Just another unrealistic fantasy dreamed up by a gullible romantic. She had learned very early in her life that there was little point in trying to compete with Helen for attention—in anything. She invariably lost.
Just then, Helen glanced over Adam’s half-turned shoulder at Honor, and lifted her eyebrows and widened her eyes in an instantly recognisable feminine expression that mimed a swooning ‘Oh, wow’ of approval.
Honor blinked, tuning abruptly back into their conversation. Then she blinked again. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing!
She still couldn’t believe it, half an hour later, as she helped Helen unpack dress after dress and hang them in the wardrobe of the spare bedroom next to the one she had been given for her temporary office.
‘Well, sweetie, I could hardly refuse—that would have been awfully rude after his mother so generously offered to put me up...’ Helen was saying, as she sat at the flounced dressing-table carrying out urgent repairs on a chipped nail while Honor trotted back and forth behind her, hanging up dresses.
‘I really did do him an injustice, didn’t I?’ Helen giggled, her finger steady as a rock as she painted. ‘I can’t figure out why I didn’t remember him first time round, he’s such a gorgeous specimen, in a rugged sort of way. Of course, I don’t normally go for rugby-forward types but he’s got a nice city-slick about him, too...’ She looked up from her artistry and saw Honor’s expression reflected in the mirror.
‘Oh, come on, Hon, you can’t really object to me going out with him?’ she pouted. ‘It’s only dinner, for goodness’ sake, and he said you had some silly old deadline you had to work on. I’m only going to be here a couple of days, so where’s the harm...?’
Honor didn’t feel like mentioning the Blake males’ reputation for whirlwind courtships. Nor did she intend telling her sister that there was no work Honor had to do tonight—no deadline that couldn’t wait a few days. Adam had just invented that as an excuse to get Helen off alone—or had it been a sop to Honor’s wounded pride?
‘Anyway, you know how hopeless you are with men. This way I get to check him out for you...’
‘Now that is the feeblest excuse for accepting a date with a man that I’ve ever heard you give,’ said Honor, torn between resigned laughter and the violent desire to shake her sister until her perfect teeth rattled.
Helen laughed shamelessly. ‘OK, so I think he’s a hunk and can’t resist the chance to find out if he’s as charming as he thinks he is. But how charming can he be? Even I have rules about a first date, you know. Now why don’t you pick out something suitably demure for me to wear, so you won’t have to worry about your golden-haired boy being driven mad with requited lust at the mere sight of me?’
‘That’s unrequited, Helen,’ corrected Honor, giving up the unequal battle.
‘Oh, right—keep reminding me of that, won’t you...?’
Secretly, Honor had been hoping that Adam might seek her out with reassurances, but she was disappointed and at lunchtime Sara told her that he had left for an afternoon meeting with representatives from the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries in town. At six he telephoned from Auckland and told Helen that he was running late, and asked her if she would mind meeting him directly at the restaurant, a twenty-minute taxi ride away.
Even draped neck to toe in a simple, straight grey silk sheath that had looked like a nun’s habit on the clothes-hanger, Helen looked like a goddess. Honor watched her get into her taxi at seven o’clock with a panicky feeling that she had made a dreadful mistake. She shouldn’t have let Helen treat this dinner like a joke. She shouldn’t have let Adam get away with dismissing her like yesterday’s news. Oh, what a stupid, spineless coward she was!
Five hours later the fear had solidified into mournful certainty as she paced back and forth in Helen’s empty room, pausing every now and then to peek through the curtains.
Damn it, where could they be at this hour?
Scrub that. She didn’t really want to know. What if they had booked into a hotel? What if they had gone to Kowhai Hill, knowing it was empty?
What if they had turned her home into their private love-nest for the night?
The horrifying thought took root and rapidly grew into a choking vine. When she realised she was actually seriously considering jumping into her newly resuscitated VW and driving over there at breakneck speed to catch them in flagrante delicto Honor decided she was driving herself mad and fled back to the sanctuary of her own room.
Grimly she selected the sexiest piece of lingerie she owned—a sheer black silk teddy with contoured lace cups that made the most of her considerable cleavage and lacing down the front that was a wicked counterpoint to the modest little frill of lace flirting over her hips. If Helen could swan around in silk, then so could her sister!
She got into the bed and turned off the light. She turned it on again and adjusted her pillow. She pushed down the quilt because she was too hot, then dragged it up again. She closed her eyes to keep the tears in.
She was just considering the drastic remedy of counting sheep when she heard the quiet purr of an expensive engine outside followed by faint bangs and crunches and then hushed sounds from within the house. Honor was sure that her acutely tuned hearing could detect every individual tuft of carpet compressing and expanding again under their creeping feet.
Adam’s door quietly opened and closed.
A tiny rustle of silk sounded outside Honor’s door. It had the impact of a fire alarm. She was out of bed in a flash, slammed on the light and ripped open the door.
Helen froze like a doe in a spotlight, her shoes dangling from her hand, her skirt lifted to mid-calf as she wobbled on one bare foot in the pool of light shafting from Honor’s room. Her luminous green eyes had a glazed expression. One beautiful sister, slightly foxed, thought Honor, cresting a new wave of violent outrage. Her lipstick had worn off, too. Doing what? Honor wondered wretchedly.
‘What time do you call this?’ she hissed at her furiously.
‘I—’<
br />
‘Do you know what time it is?’ Her whisper rose perilously towards a squeak as she dragged her thirty-year-old sister into the room like a defiant teenager.
‘Well, I—’
‘Do you know what time it is?’ Honor repeated, vibrating like a tuning fork with rage. ‘Where in the hell have you been until this hour? And don’t tell me the restaurant—it closed over two hours ago!’
Helen leaned closer, trying to focus on Honor’s furious face. ‘How did you know that?’
Honor stepped back and crossed her arms over her stomach, causing her sister’s mouth to drop open as she took in the full effect of the black teddy.
‘Honor, where did you get that incredible outfit? You look quite—quite...well, sexy...’
She had no need to sound so taken aback! ‘Because I telephoned the restaurant and they told me, that’s how!’ she said fiercely.
‘You—telephoned—the restaurant?’ Helen repeated slowly, shaking her head to try and improve her comprehension.
Honor didn’t even blush. ‘Yes, I telephoned the restaurant,’ she bit off. ‘And they said you weren’t there!’
Helen pouted. It wasn’t half so effective on unpainted lips, thought Honor critically. ‘That was because we left to go somewhere else for dessert.’
‘For two hours?’
‘It was an all-night place. Chocolate a speciality, but of course I only had the fresh fruit salad. We were so busy talking, time just got away from us and—’
‘Oh, really?’ Honor interrupted sarcastically.
‘It’s the truth! Why’re you so mad? Did you finish your work early or something?’
It was finally getting through to Helen that there was something drastically different about her sister, and it wasn’t just what she was wearing!
‘Why did you do it?’ Honor demanded, planting her hands on her hips in aggressive demand, having no idea of the wildly exotic image she presented. ‘You knew I didn’t want you to go out with him but you went anyway. It was just a bit of a laugh to you. Well, it wasn’t to me and I’m warning you now: lay off.’
