‘The same way you were last night—for comfort?’ Pausing, he considered the claim. ‘Yes, I suppose we could say that. You will get over Olivier in time, you know, Lucia.’
She knew that had she been truly in love with Thierry, and suffering over his betrayal, she might have challenged this prediction, pointing out that, after all, he hadn’t got over his Shelagh. But it would have been cruel to taunt him with that now when she was so much better off than he, free because she hadn’t truly loved Thierry, whereas he was bound for ever, it seemed, to a woman with whom he couldn’t live.
So she merely said lightly, ‘Is that one more thing you’re going to be right about?’
‘I know you find it hard to believe at present, but all the signs of recovery are there already,’ Rob retorted, with a glint of something very like disgust in his eyes.
‘Sorry to have…burdened you, being a baby and all,’ Lucia began stiltedly, and then proper anger was restored. ‘It’s your own fault, though. If you didn’t…see me, see into me the way you do, I wouldn’t have felt I could.’
‘In other words, knowing how you work places me under some sort of obligation to you?’ Rob mocked silkily.
She was dismayed to realise that she had indeed been thinking, or feeling, along those lines, and the knowledge that he was unwilling to accept any such obligation was unexpectedly hurtful. But how had she gone from resenting the way he knew her so accurately to unthinking reliance on the same ability?
‘I realise it was…an imposition, and I apologise.’ She spoke with a proud little lift of her chin, depriving her words of anything approaching humility.
‘No problem,’ Rob returned lightly.
‘Why were you looking for me?’ Lucia changed the subject, resisting an urge to rub at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand.
‘To suggest that we had dinner together tonight,’ he supplied blandly.
‘Oh, but—’ Lucia was shocked by the weight of the disappointment that sank into her as she realised something else. ‘That act isn’t really necessary any more, is it, Rob? I’ve just told you that I don’t want Thierry back, so you must be sure I’ve got no intention of coming between him and your sister. Nadine is already sure of that—you can ask her if you like—and that’s what the whole thing has been about, her peace of mind. It was never for me.’
‘Except that it seems to have been after all.’ Rob paused, examining her assessingly. ‘But we could still have dinner together, simply because we want to.’
Lucia hesitated, tempted. After all, what better way was there to celebrate her belatedly discovered freedom than by spending an hour or so in the company of probably the most attractive and sexy man she had ever met? Of course, he wouldn’t know that it was a private celebration.
‘Do you want to?’ She was wary, remembering his reluctant attitude when she had been crying. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer Madelon? She’s together—not messed up or mixed up like me.’
‘No, you.’ Sudden laughter lit his face, increasing its attractiveness irresistibly. ‘And why are you being so cautious? It’s only dinner we’re discussing here, not a whole relationship. Yes or no, Lucia? Quickly, because you’re probably breaking some kind of staff rule by having me in here.’
‘You’re the boss; you’re Ballard; you can do what you like,’ she retorted, and he laughed again.
‘Be careful, Lucia, I might misunderstand you.’
‘Except that you never do,’ she retorted in a dry little voice. ‘All right, yes to dinner. Where shall I meet you?’
She wasn’t sure why she had agreed, but she was denied an immediate opportunity to think about it, or anything else, because Madelon Brouard knocked softly on her door a few minutes after Rob had gone.
‘All is well again?’ she enquired, entering the room in response to Lucia’s bidding after identifying herself. ‘You will forgive my curiosity, please, but lovers’ quarrels are intriguing, and you understand that I have this interest in Rob for myself. I was aware of a fracas when I looked out earlier.’
Lucia laughed. ‘I had something of Thierry Olivier’s from way back that I wanted to return, and Rob was annoyed at finding him here.’
‘Possessiveness, or jealousy,’ Madelon decided sagely, and shrugged philosophically. ‘If the affair is so exciting and intense—but no! You cannot give check-mate to me yet, my friend! He knows I pursue him and he does not reject my interest.’
She was funny, and Lucia liked her, so why was she beginning to be disturbed by her periodic references to winning Rob for herself?
Later Lucia changed into a pretty dress, its small black and white print, the lace-edged sweetheart neckline and the way it fitted over her breasts, waist and hips before falling in soft folds to her knees, all ultra-feminine.
‘Nice,’ Rob commented when she met him at the restaurant, but there was no kiss for show this time. Lucia was relieved, suddenly at the mercy of an acute physical awareness which shafted through her and set up an atrocious longing deep inside her.
He himself was elegant, as always, in casually smart trousers and a slate-coloured shirt, but it was the man, not the clothes producing this debilitating effect on her—things such as the midnight darkness of his hair, the power and magnetism of character so evident in his face, the enigma of his eyes, the shapely strength and beauty of his hands and, above all, the mysterious mouth that could express so much.
‘We have a few matters to get out of the way,’ he announced decisively when they were seated at an attractively laid table at the open end of the restaurant. ‘First, I neglected to mention earlier that I spoke to my sister today. She was talking about my having dinner at the Olivier place again on Friday night, and she was wondering how you’d feel about an invitation. Madame Olivier isn’t being given a say, if you’re wondering.’
‘I’d rather not,’ Lucia decided finally, flushing self-consciously. ‘Thierry seems a bit…wistful still when he’s around me, so it will probably be better for both of them if I keep away. He’ll become comfortable and confident with Nadine quicker if he isn’t always remembering how comfortable he used to be with me. Oh, I know how conceited this sounds, but it’s true. I know him.’
He touched her hand, which was typically busy, playing tensely with her knife.
‘It sounds considerate,’ he contradicted her gently. ‘All right, I’ll tell Nadine we can’t make it.’
‘Oh, but you must go,’ Lucia insisted quickly, embarrassed. ‘I didn’t mean to deprive you…You’ve done enough, even if it was all meant for Nadine. She doesn’t need the act any longer, and I don’t need any more face-saving…rescuing.’
‘You will be rescuing me on this occasion,’ he retorted humorously. ‘I’m fond of my sister but we’re not that close, and we’ll be even less so once I’ve seen her safely married, because that will be the long-overdue end of my responsibility for her.
‘But I am definitely not pining to spend another evening over there, listening to Madame Olivier politely mourning the good old days before the Ballard Group and other hotel chains created employment and brought in the tourists and their foreign currency.’
‘I’m sure you give as good as you get,’ Lucia laughed, relieved to realise that he was sincere.
‘When I want to, and when the criticism might be valid, but I’ve never seen the need to defend myself against uninformed condemnation. The wedding, now, Lucia. Do you go on the guest list?’ Rob went on.
‘When and where are they getting married anyway? Thierry said they hadn’t decided yet.’
‘I know. Soon, Nadine says, but they’re still weighing the Comoros against Harare—I suppose because it’s traditional for weddings to take place from the bride’s home.’ Rob sounded indifferent.
‘Well, if it’s Zimbabwe and soon, that settles the question of my presence. I won’t be able to afford it even if I get an invitation.’
‘Presumably you’ll be saving with the aim of leaving the islands in due time? What do you think y
ou’ll do then?’
Lucia’s eyes began to sparkle as she realised that she had choices.
‘Anything I like! It has just occurred to me!’ She finally grasped at her freedom and embraced it. ‘The time I’ll have to spend here will be beneficial, as it’ll enable me to find out if I really like hotel work. If I do, I’ll stay with it in some form; otherwise I might try to get into some line of personnel work, always depending on where I go and what opportunities exist’
‘So, essentially, the world is your oyster.’ The mockery that had been in abeyance for a while was back, and a challenging smile twisted his lips. ‘You’ve kept your promise to your father, you haven’t been called on to keep the one you made to Thierry Olivier—although I don’t suppose you’re ready to count that as a blessing yet—and you’re no longer anyone’s puppet.’
His tone doused her pleasure.
‘A freedom which you’ve given some attention to trying to show me I could and should always have had,’ she reminded him sharply.
‘I have, haven’t I?’ he conceded ironically.
‘So why—’ Lucia broke off as realisation hit her, and she sent him a taunting smile. ‘Oh, I know! It’s nothing personal, and yet very personal to you at the same time, isn’t it? I’d forgotten. I was talking about possible careers, and you simply don’t like women who are madly dedicated to their work—because of your mother and that woman Nadine told me about.’
‘What woman?’ Rob demanded.
‘I shouldn’t have mentioned her,’ she realised contritely.
‘Shelagh, I suppose?’ he prompted resignedly.
‘I think so. Someone who researched monkeys or baboons,’ she admitted.
‘Chimpanzees and gorillas,’ he corrected her flatly.
‘It was insensitive of me to raise the subject. You probably didn’t want to be reminded,’ she guessed, and he smiled ironically.
‘But you’re sensitive, Lucia,’ he contradicted her, his eyes gleaming. ‘Only your concern is superfluous here, angel. I made a mistake, but I’m not particularly touchy about it. My experience with Shelagh taught me a valuable lesson about myself. I wanted all her time, attention, presence and energy, but her absorption in her work took her away a lot, only allowing her to reserve a portion of them for me, so in the end I decided against forming what she would have termed a “pair-bond”.’
‘It must have hurt, though,’ Lucia ventured quietly.
‘I suppose it did. It was my first seriously emotional affair, and it taught me what sort of women to avoid for future relationships.’
Lucia understood. It had also been his only seriously emotional affair, so he had never got over Shelagh, and this hard, almost careless attitude was his way of coping with the pain.
Aware of being luckier than Rob, in that her heart was free, she guessed that he’d prefer a less serious note, and she obliged by asking lightly, ‘Doesn’t it worry you that a lot of people might call you reactionary and sexist?’
‘No, because I’m not those things,’ he returned bluntly, the denial inherently arrogant. ‘I’m possessive and demanding. Those are traits in my personal make-up, not the attitudes of ignorant prejudice.’
‘Flaws in your personal make-up,’ she jibed.
‘Yes.’
Lucia was awed. How could he admit it so easily? Compared with her over-sensitivity about herself and her faults, she supposed his acceptance and admission of his revealed how comfortable he was with himself—secure and confident.
‘You could have tried overcoming them,’ she suggested sweetly.
‘I may yet have to,’ he responded rather grimly.
Because the fact that no one had succeeded in replacing Shelagh was forcing him to consider the possibility of resuming the relationship? Lucia found the idea unexpectedly disturbing.
‘Why haven’t you before? For instance,’ she continued mischievously, ‘if this ape-woman was so devoted to her work, why didn’t you just give up yours and follow her, so you could be be with her all the time? Or is the idea too progressive for you?’
The challenge restored a glint of humour to the smoky eyes. ‘It’s the idea of any inborn talent going to waste that is anathema to me. Shelagh has a talent for what she does; I happen to have a talent for what I do; therefore we were incompatible, as the natural possession of a particular ability would seem to indicate that it’s intended for use. I don’t quarrel with destiny.’
Rob treated her to a long, searching inspection before resuming, ‘And you have a talent for getting on with people, although no one would ever guess it if they had only your dealings with me these past few days to go on. I wonder what you’re destined to end up doing? How are you liking being in the hotel shop so far?’
It all seemed oddly intent, more than merely a concession to social conversation, but Lucia answered him amicably, her mind playing over some of the things he had been saying.
She didn’t think that she could ever devote herself as exclusively to any career as Jacynth Cole-Ballard and Shelagh seemed to have done, but then what Rob had called ‘talent’ was actually genius in the former’s case—and probably in Shelagh’s too. Her own talent rested on a more humbly human level, unrelated to any specific subject. The sort of work that suited her temperament and abilities would provide stimulation and fulfilment, but ultimately she required the warmth of a personal relationship to give fundamental meaning to her life.
So she would be needing someone to love some day, but would anyone love her properly? Thierry hadn’t gone on loving her, but maybe that was because she hadn’t loved him enough. Oh, she hoped that she didn’t make any more mistakes!
Over their meal Lucia told Rob about Chester Watson’s approval of some plans for the shop.
‘I’ve got tomorrow morning off to go to Moroni to get what we’ll need—some of those big round baskets, vanilla sticks, the various spices…oh, everything! The informative literature we sell looks boring just stacked by itself, but we can turn it into an attractive display around examples of the islands’ more exotic products. Hassan has suggested that we also have a small display in the reception area, and Chester thinks it’s a good idea.’
‘“We”,’ Rob echoed reflectively. ‘You’re really getting into this, aren’t you, identifying with the hotel?’
‘That’s what I like about working in a hotel; we can be united because we’ve all got the same aim—to please.’
‘As long as you don’t carry the desire to the extremes you do in your personal life,’ he cautioned her, his expression inscrutable.
‘Oh, that’s all over and done with.’ Lucia was blithely dismissive. ‘I told you days ago—I’m through with pleasing men!’
‘It’s those you love who inspire you to near-martyrdom, isn’t it?’ Rob probed tautly.
‘I suppose…’ Now she sounded uncertain.
‘So you’d better not let yourself love anyone again once you get over Olivier, right?’ he pursued relentlessly.
‘No.’ She spoke flatly, because she didn’t think she possessed that much cool self-control.
He directed the conversation towards impersonal areas after that, but the little exchange had left her harbouring a feeling of unidentifiable distress, and a strange restlessness had begun to gnaw at her.
Rob walked her back to the staff annexe when the meal was over. Although some part of her had been half-expecting it, he made no attempt to touch her, and Lucia was conscious of shaming disappointment.
What was wrong with her? She ought to be glad and grateful as it seemed that she was incapable of controlling her hormones, or whatever it was that made her so physically responsive to him. The last thing she wanted was to find herself helplessly caught up in an affair based purely on sex. That would constitute an even worse mistake than the one she had made with Thierry.
Lucia had thought she might lie awake, relishing the prospect of the freedom that she had finally discovered she had, but somehow it had lost its taste. Instead she was pla
gued by an obscurely dissatisfied feeling, which she didn’t think had much to do with her libido because it troubled her more as a sense of something being missing from her emotional life than from her physical existence.
Maybe just the habit of Thierry, she decided, but remained dubious about the explanation.
She slept eventually and woke unable to remember what she had dreamed. Her feeling of dissatisfaction hardened into the frustration which came of knowing that something had been forgotten and would remain so if effort was expended on trying to remember.
Covering up was merely optional, even for Muslims in the Comoros, so, when Lucia stepped outside to look for the car that Chester had told her she could use to go to Moroni, she was wearing a short red divided skirt and matching button-up top with a pin-tucked yoke, both in soft, fine cotton.
An earlier squall had yielded to one of those mornings when the sun was at its most relentlessly scorching, burning tender skins through a shimmering haze of heat, so she had added a natural straw hat and her sunglasses, with lightweight leather sandals and a hand-woven shoulder bag from South Africa completing the outfit.
‘This is the car you’re looking for.’
She just managed to prevent herself colliding with Rob, and saw that he was indicating the car in which he had driven her to collect her luggage from the Olivier estate the previous Saturday. Madelon was with him and she gave Lucia an insouciant smile.
‘Enjoy!’ she adjured, and disappeared into the hotel.
Her manner struck Lucia as being both challenging and triumphant, so perhaps Rob had finally been explicitly encouraging. Lucia frowned. Would he do that, though—indulge his obvious interest in Madelon and risk giving the lie to his pretended interest in her?
Of course, he was so clever that he might have found a way that eliminated any risk. She didn’t know Madelon well enough to be sure if she would go along with a subterfuge or demand to be allowed to flaunt her triumph. But he could only be playing with Madelon, if Shelagh was still the woman he loved.
Substitute Engagement Page 14
