by Emma Darcy
Jenny? Jenny Ashton? Was she in on this...this...? Caitlin couldn’t find a word for it.
‘Caitlin?’ David bit out.
She looked at him in helpless appeal, appalled by the credibility Crawley was evoking with facts she couldn’t dispute. The Germans, the perfume, the roses...it added up to a damning indictment of duplicity on her part.
David’s eyes seared hers with burning questions. Caitlin didn’t know how to begin to answer them. All she could think of was she was innocent.
‘Let me give you a tip, old boy,’ Crawley drawled condescendingly. ‘If you want to keep a woman, don’t take her for granted. And if you’ve been running after Caitlin today, you’ve left your run too late. Why don’t you trot on home now? You are...shall we say...yesterday’s man?’
‘Is this true, Caitlin?’ David grated.
‘No!’ she cried, finally finding voice. ‘David, I swear it isn’t!’
Crawley turned to her in exasperation. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind again. What’s he been promising you? More money?’ His voice hardened. ‘You can’t play both ends against the middle, Caitlin. Besides...’ his eyes glittered mockingly at David ‘...I doubt Hartley will forgive your disloyalty to him.’
‘David, don’t listen to him,’ Caitlin begged.
But he had been listening. She could see him weighing what Crawley had said against all that had happened today, and the balance against her was growing in his mind.
‘He’s deliberately making trouble between us. Can’t you see that?’ she appealed.
‘You didn’t want me to meet with the German delegation,’ David said flatly. ‘You tried to stop me.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of them. I was thinking of us.’
‘You were thinking of yourself, Caitlin. Was the decision made when I walked out on you?’
A chill ran down her spine. She was losing him. She tried desperately to reach across the gap that was yawning between them. ‘David, don’t do this. Don’t let him poison what we have together. What we share...’
It was a mistake.
A cold mask of pride fell over his face.
‘We share nothing.’ He raked a scathing look over her body, then met her eyes with blazing contempt. ‘I won’t be tempted again.’ He took her car keys out of his trouser pocket and tossed them to her. ‘Get Crawley to drive you out to your car. Goodbye, Caitlin.’
It was only a couple of steps to the front door. David was there and gone before Caitlin could utter another word. The urge to run after him impelled her feet forward. She reached the door, grasped the handle, then realised any further plea was futile.
David had closed his ears to her, closed his heart to her. She had nothing new to say, nothing that might open his mind. If she threw herself upon him physically, he would cast her off. The desire she had so deliberately aroused this morning now damned her.
She heard the Ferrari growl, then roar into motion.
She leaned her head against the closed door and fought the wave of weakness that hollowed out her stomach and turned her knees to water. Crawley was behind her, watching her...Crawley, who had manipulated a scenario that smacked of conspiracy and betrayal...Crawley, who was undoubtedly gloating over the success of his machinations.
Caitlin stiffened her spine. She would not crumple into a heap of distress and despair. Not in front of Crawley. He had to be the lowest, meanest and vilest person in the human race. He also had to be faced. She had to challenge his lies. If she could draw something tangible from him, something she could take to David to prove her innocence, there was a chance that David might listen. Whatever happened, she would not crack.
She turned, standing right in front of the door to block Crawley’s ready exit. He was watching her, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Caitlin abhorred physical violence, but she felt such a surge of hatred for Crawley that she barely quelled the impulse to step forward and slap the evil smugness from his face.
Almost instantly she realised he would like that. His dark, greedy eyes were feasting on the effect he was having on her, enjoying his power to stir responses that weakened his opponent while he remained in control. Caitlin fiercely determined he would get no more sadistic satisfaction from her.
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What gain is there in this for you?’
He laughed. ‘Anything that hurts Hartley is a gain for me. The more I mess up his mind, the better. Tonight I hit a bonanza. I got the jackpot.’
The relish in his voice was sickening. Caitlin eyed him with contempt. ‘You have a strange idea of a bonanza.’
‘Not at all. I knew Hartley was laying you. I wish him joy in living off the memory.’ His eyes flicked lecherously over her curves. ‘But for Hartley to actually be emotionally involved...that I didn’t expect. Nice, gut-gnawing stuff.’
David was right. Crawley was a piece of slime.
He laughed again. ‘My Valentine’s Day investment really paid off. Hartley must have burned at the thought of you having another lover. Wish I could have been a fly on the wall when he blew up about it.’
‘He didn’t blow up.’
He wagged a finger at her. ‘Don’t try to deceive me, Caitlin. You didn’t resign for nothing. I know more about you than you know yourself.’
‘How do you know I resigned?’ she asked sharply.
‘I know everything.’
‘How did you get here?’
‘I just walked in. I met an eminently bedworthy blonde who asked me to stay when I told her that I’d come about David Hartley.’
Michelle! She’d probably been hovering in the foyer to see what resulted from Daddy’s talk! Another violent urge hit Caitlin. The thought of wringing her sister’s neck hovered in her mind. No doubt Michelle had self-righteously decided that Caitlin should get her come-uppance for playing fast and loose with two men.
‘Well, now you’ve had your fun, let me show you out, Mr Crawley,’ Caitlin said tightly, opening the door and stepping aside to let him make his exit. ‘You’re not welcome here.’
‘Why don’t you come and work for me now you’re out of a job? We could make music together.’
‘Get knotted,’ she said as curtly as she could.
He laughed patronisingly.
The urge to lose her temper was well nigh irresistible. The urge to assault him physically was well nigh irresistible. Caitlin fought the urges down. Both would be mistakes. Her attempts to hurt him would simply amplify his pleasure.
Where was Michael Crawley vulnerable? The answer came to her immediately. His overwhelming ego.
‘You’ve been very clever, Mr Crawley.’
‘Indeed, I have.’ He was supremely confident. ‘A good hand played with masterful strokes.’
Caitlin felt the bile in her stomach churning.
‘Tell me how you found out about David and me, when no one else knew?’
‘I think not.’
‘Impress me, Mr Crawley. Or was it just a fluke?’
That stung his pride. ‘Of course not.’
‘How, then?’
‘I’ve had you both under surveillance.’
So simple, so obvious, once one thought of it.
‘I don’t believe you.’ She was grasping at straws.
He smirked. ‘Please yourself.’
‘If you had us under surveillance, you would know David’s habits.’
The smirk widened. ‘Oh, I do.’
‘What time did he leave my apartment?’
‘Six forty-five. Every time he laid you.’
The thought that Crawley knew every time they had loved each other—it was so sick—Caitlin gagged. She quickly forced out some words to cover her reaction. ‘And what did David do with his schedule after that?’ Caitlin didn’t know herself, and it didn’t matter.
Michael Crawley began to laugh, a raucous belly-filled laugh of absolute delight. ‘He went to have breakfast with his mother.’ The merriment shook his frame until tears of glee rolled down his eyes. He m
anaged to contain himself. ‘You see, Caitlin, it’s that piece of knowledge I’ll use to destroy David Hartley psychologically. Isn’t that funny? Aren’t you amused? Are you impressed?’
Caitlin was going to be sick. She needed more words. Fast. ‘You’re a sadist, Mr Crawley.’
‘Indeed I am, Caitlin.’
She swallowed hard and gestured to the open doorway. ‘Goodbye, Mr Crawley.’
He strolled to the door and paused, his eyes glittering exultantly into hers. ‘Think about it, Caitlin. Hartley didn’t trust you. Give me a call if you want a job. I’ll pay you more than he did. And revenge is sweet.’
‘Yes,’ she forced out. ‘Yes, it is.’ Somehow, some way, she would bring Michael Crawley down for what he’d done tonight.
‘I’m glad we understand each other. Goodnight, Caitlin.’
He didn’t wait for a reply.
She stepped out into the fresh air after him, watched him depart, then vomited over the balcony on to the garden below. She cleaned her mouth with water from the garden tap and braced herself to go back inside. It wasn’t easy. She felt very shaky.
She closed the front door behind her and leaned back against it, shuddering. Michael Crawley was a venomous snake. She desperately needed an antidote for his poison. But what? The worst of it was he had spoken the truth. David’s trust in her had been destroyed.
Her gaze wandered aimlessly around and struck the decorative red hearts pinned to the walls to hold the streamers. Tears welled up in her eyes. Some Valentine’s Day this had been! Michael Crawley was as deadly as Al Capone. He might as well have machine-gunned her heart. She felt as though she was bleeding to death.
Then the strains of the music being played in the lounge-room impinged on her consciousness. The tune was hauntingly familiar, drawing her into listening for the words. One phrase was all she needed to hear. Recognition hit her like another wound to her heart—the theme song from the movie, Ghost—’Unchained Melody’.
It was so beautiful, expressing such a deep, yearning love...a love that could no longer be fulfilled in this life, yet a love that would go on burning forever. Was she doomed to be cut off from David before they had ever fully expressed what they meant to each other, wrenched apart by the evil of another man?
Her father’s voice joined that of the singer, drawing Caitlin to the doorway. Through a haze of tears, she saw her parents dancing together, gazing into each other’s eyes as though there was no one else in the world. Her mother started singing, too.
As Caitlin watched her parents slowly circling the floor, so touchingly in tune with each other after all these years, she vowed she would win back David’s trust. And his love. It was not impossible and she wouldn’t let it be.
She needed him.
She wanted him.
She would have him.
He, too, had been lonely most of his life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CAITLIN arrived at the office at eight o’clock. The cleaning staff was packing up, ready to leave. She presented Michael Crawley’s roses to one of the women, the basket of gifts to another. She borrowed a can of air-freshener to get rid of the scent of roses. As far as was possible she eliminated the loathsome reminders of that poisonous man.
She found her letter of resignation still on her desk. She left it there. She found a message on the fax machine that probably spelt death to her hopes, but there was nothing she could do about it. She left it there. She went to the ladies’ room. Her need to go was working overtime this morning. Her mother was right about nerves. Caitlin had never felt so nervous in her life.
She checked her appearance again, fretting over her choice of clothes. Maybe she should have worn the green dress David liked. But he might remember he had complimented her on it and think she was trying to be seductive. She had selected the red suit because it was a bold colour and she needed to be bold this morning. Unfortunately it had the effect of showing up the pallor of her face, the obvious sign of strain and fatigue.
It had been a long night. She had covered David’s departure by simply saying he had to return to Sydney. She had let Michelle and Trevor and her mother interpret that any way they liked. When the party had ended, she had driven two of the guests home to Yarramalong, and they were so appreciative of the favour that they didn’t mind her driving their car on to The Last Retreat and leaving it there so she could pick up her bubble car.
On the drive back to Sydney she hadn’t felt constrained to keep up a happy façde, but there had been no relief for her churning mind. She’d had only minimal patches of sleep in the few hours left before she had to rise for an early start to work. She wondered if David had fared any better. Did he have any doubts about his decision to leave her with Michael Crawley?
She puzzled over what Crawley had said about David’s mother as she returned to her office. How could he use the fact that David breakfasted with his mother every morning to his advantage? It made no sense to her. Some derogatory comment about David’s being a Mummy’s boy was surely all he could get out of it. That wouldn’t wash far. David was clearly not the kind of wimp the term suggested.
Yet why was David so assiduous in keeping to that schedule? Did his mother have some kind of hold on him? How did such constant contact with his mother tie in with the loneliness he had supposedly known? Why hadn’t he ever taken Caitlin home with him?
So many questions that needed answering.
It was eight twenty-two when she re-entered the office. David would arrive at eight-thirty. He was a man of rigid routine. His first action would be to check if any transmissions had come through on the fax machine overnight. Which meant her office was the first stop.
Caitlin watched the minutes crawl by. She couldn’t make up her mind how best to face David. Should she be sitting at her desk, or standing? Would it look presumptuous if she sat as though prepared to start a day’s work? At least that would put the desk between her and David. Coward, she berated herself. He wouldn’t throw her out bodily. Or would he?
Eight-thirty.
She stood behind her desk, beside her chair. To her left was her computer and printer. Behind her was the fax machine. To her right were the filing cabinets. Beyond the filing cabinets and in front of her was the door.
It started to open.
Caitlin gripped the backrest of her chair, fingers digging into the fabric. She could feel the throb of her pulse in her temples. Her heart was pumping in overdrive. Her stomach was in spasmodic revolt.
David did not stride in with his usual electric vitality. The door stood open for several moments, as though he was reluctant to enter, perhaps recoiling from any reminder of his intimate relationship with a woman who had supposedly betrayed his confidence. Then he stepped inside, grim-faced, resolute, but there was a haggard look about his eyes that spoke of lack of sleep, lack of any interest in the day ahead of him.
He stopped dead when he saw her. His body tensed. His face sharpened. His eyes blazed with anger. ‘What are you doing here?’ he snapped.
‘I’ve never accepted injustice easily,’ Caitlin stated, her voice trembling even though she had rehearsed the words a hundred times.
His mouth compressed. His eyes were those of a judge who had already passed sentence on a proven traitor, hard, contemptuous of any protest. He stared at her with an intensity designed to reduce her to a quivering wreck.
It had the opposite effect. A surge of adrenalin poured strength into her limbs. Her mind focused very clearly on her purpose. She stared back in unwavering challenge, armoured with her innocence.
‘May I remind you...you resigned yesterday?’ he said with deadly intent.
‘Yes, and I gave you formal notification of it in a letter. You left the letter on my desk...’ she pointed to it ‘...for anyone to walk in and see.’
She took a deep breath and plunged on. ‘I didn’t tell Michael Crawley I’d resigned. You didn’t tell Michael Crawley I’d resigned. Yet he knew, David. His act last night was based on the fac
t that I’d resigned.’
‘Act?’ he savagely mocked.
Her chin lifted. ‘I don’t intend to be the scapegoat for someone on your staff, who also happens to be in Michael Crawley’s pocket.’
‘Why should I believe it’s anyone else but you, Caitlin?’
‘Because I’m here, David. Fighting on your side. And if you throw me out, Crawley will have won what he wanted to win when he sent the roses and other gifts to stir trouble between us and distract concentration from the meeting with the Germans.’ She paused, then added, ‘I did my best to get that business deal back for you, David. You know I did.’
He weighed her argument and found it wanting. ‘No one on the staff knew we were lovers, Caitlin. Your suggestion of a mole feeding Crawley information doesn’t quite cover that,’ he said cynically.
‘It doesn’t have to. Crawley has had you under surveillance. He boasted of it after you left last night. He knows what nights you spent at my apartment and precisely what time you left in the morning.’
‘Why should I think that information didn’t come from you?’ he demanded tersely.
‘You’ve never told me what you did after you left me in the morning, David,’ she shot at him, determined to hold his attention.
‘I went home, of course,’ he snapped.
‘You breakfast with your mother. Every morning. Without fail. And Crawley intends to use your mother against you. I was a bonus weapon to needle you. Your mother is his big gun.’
He froze. Total immobility. It was as though she had turned him to stone with her last words. His eyes went completely blank, their focus turned inward to something so critical or momentous that it obliterated all consciousness of anything else.
Caitlin’s nerve-endings jangled with tension. What could produce such a reaction in him? What was the mystery about his mother? What power over him did it give Michael Crawley?
She saw David’s hands clench. She sensed the fierce aggression surging through him. Then very slowly they unclenched. Control re-established. His eyes refocused on her, burning with the need to know.
