Thankfully Symon’s restaurant was tucked down a quiet side street, and all was calm outside it. Luke leaned against the building and took a deep breath. The narrow road was in shadows, the low winter sun already starting to sink behind the cottage rooftops, and the air was cold against his hot face. Afternoon here was morning in the Caribbean. Back home people would be up and breakfasting in the sun or already lazing by azure pools. In any case, Stella would be awake – and what better way to start her day than with some good news? Pulling his iPhone from his pocket, Luke scrolled through to the Skype app. He was about to have a very interesting conversation. A conversation that was going to change his life forever. Screw anything else like sentiment and scruples. Just look where those got you. Taken for an idiot.
Issie Tremaine needed to learn that some secrets really shouldn’t be kept.
Chapter 23
When Issie was a child Granny Alice used to say to her be careful what you ask for because you might just get it, and Issie used to laugh because this sounded like complete nonsense. Surely everyone wanted what they asked for? Sweets. Ice cream. Staying up late. Like, duh!
But now, and at the grand old age of twenty-two, Issie finally understood: her grandmother had been trying to warn her that sometimes what you thought you wanted and what you really wanted were two very different things.
Take finding the treasure, for example. Ever since she was a little girl listening to the legends of the wreckers and the smugglers, Issie had longed to discover Black Jack Jago’s loot. When her school friends and siblings had laughed and told her this was just a story, Issie had stamped her foot in rage and sworn that one day she’d prove them wrong. When the wreck had appeared on the beach, which felt like a lifetime ago now, she’d been filled with excitement and her thoughts had been preoccupied with the search for the lost cargo. So she ought to have been ecstatic when she and Luke had seen that sea-washed skull. It should have been all her dreams come true, but it hadn’t been like that at all. Instead, Issie had been filled with an overwhelming sense of misgiving and every fibre of her being had been shrieking that she had to turn tail and run. That treasure was cursed; there were no two ways about it. Men had been murdered for it and others, overtaken with greed, had willingly sacrificed their lives. It was best left buried.
And now there was Mark, yet another perfect illustration of her grandmother’s wise words. Not so long ago he’d been Issie’s entire world. She’d adored him, and her every waking moment had been filled with thoughts of him. In lectures and tutorials she’d hung on his every word, living for a smile or a kind remark, and unable to believe her luck that he’d singled her out. When she’d discovered that Emma was still very much his wife, Issie had thought her heart would never mend. She’d loved him for almost three years, her three most impressionable years, and stepping away had been excruciating. Not sitting her finals – and disappointing her family because of that – had been nothing in comparison to losing him. How many hours had she spent gazing out to sea and longing for him to appear in Polwenna Bay, even though she knew it was wrong to wish for another woman’s husband? To have Dr Mark Tollen, dark and handsome Mark Tollen, sweeping into a big Tremaine family gathering and claiming her for his own would have been all her dreams come true.
And now this was happening for real: Mark was here declaring his love, and she couldn’t have been more horrified. The irony of it wasn’t lost on Issie. Fate certainly had a sick sense of humour. As he held her hand and gabbled on about how he’d missed her and couldn’t live without her, it was all she could do not to snatch it away and tear after Luke. The look of betrayal on Luke’s face had cut her to the quick, and she couldn’t bear to imagine what he must be thinking.
“Why didn’t you call and tell me you were coming?” Issie asked, interrupting Mark in full flow.
An expression of annoyance flickered over his sharp features, then melted away under the brilliance of his smile. Oops. All of a sudden Issie remembered how much he’d always hated being disturbed when in the middle of making a Very Important Point. Very few people ever interrupted Mark Tollen or, God forbid, challenged him. He was used to having hordes of admiring undergraduates hanging on his every word, and they very rarely disagreed with him or corrected him. Which, thinking about it now, wasn’t exactly conducive to their learning.
A year on and a year wiser, Issie was starting to understand why a man like this might find his wife, and his equal, critical and not very understanding.
Emma Tollen probably understood her husband only too well…
Crap, thought Issie now. Why didn’t I realise all this before? All this time, she’d been eating her heart out for nothing. It wasn’t a pleasant discovery. On the other hand, it was surprisingly liberating to look at him and feel nothing but faint annoyance that he’d hijacked her grandmother’s engagement lunch to make this unwanted and quite frankly way-too-late declaration of love.
“I wanted to surprise you, sweetheart,” Mark said, sitting down in Luke’s seat without even being asked and helping himself to a glass of champagne. “After we spoke the other day I missed you so much and I knew there was no point being apart anymore.”
Issie stared at him. If only she’d stuck to her guns and not answered that call. She’d only spoken to him out of jealousy because she’d been convinced Luke had called the mysterious Stella. This was what you got for game playing; she really should have learned her lesson after all the drama with Teddy.
Mark leaned over to kiss her cheek. He smelled sour, as though he hadn’t washed for a day or two, and he was more stubbly than usual.
“I could tell how much you missed me,” he murmured.
He could? Issie racked her brains for anything she might have unwittingly said to make Mark think this, but she drew a total blank. In fact, as she recalled, hadn’t he ended the call rather abruptly? A sure sign in the past that Emma had walked into the room.
Aware that her family were doing a very bad job of pretending not to be listening in, Issie stood up.
“We need to talk and this isn’t the right place,” she told him.
Mark peered at her over the champagne flute. That it had originally been Luke’s made irritation flare deep inside Issie. This was typical Mark. He assumed that everything was his by right and there for the taking. Including naïve undergraduates. God. Why hadn’t she noticed any of this before? Talk about love being blind. It must have been deaf and dumb to boot.
“We can talk here, sweets. We don’t have to hide anymore. Your family is going to get to know me soon anyway.”
Issie shook her head. Not if she could help it. “It’s too late, Mark. I don’t want you here. It’s over.”
“You don’t mean that, Issie. You love me. I know you do. That’s just your guilt talking – and it doesn’t have to anymore, because Emma and I are over. I’ve left her. It’s not been right for years and she doesn’t appreciate me or love me. You know that; she was always the same. I only stayed for Sammy anyway.”
The ease with which he dismissed his wife was breathtaking. Who was Dr Mark Tollen? Certainly not the man Issie had believed she was in love with. That man didn’t exist. He was just a façade, concealing the selfish shallow creature that Mark really was. And she, silly inexperienced girl that she was, had fallen for it.
“You do know I saw her, don’t you?” Issie said slowly.
That day would be etched in her mind forever. It was the reason she’d packed her room up, handed back the key to her digs and then run home to Polwenna Bay and gone travelling soon after, instead of staying for the rest of the academic year and her finals.
Desperate to see Mark, who hadn’t answered any of her calls, Issie had broken the cardinal rule and taken the bus to his house. She’d known it was a bad idea. After all, hadn’t Mark told her a thousand times that she mustn’t ever contact him at home? Emma was volatile, he’d said, and he never wanted Issie to have to face her. Almost three years into their relationship and frantic to see him, Issi
e had finally plucked up the courage to visit his pretty terraced house. Telling herself that since Emma was a wife in name only (Mark’s words, not hers) and that there wouldn’t be a problem, Issie had walked up the neat path and pressed the doorbell.
The tired woman who’d answered the door, hugely pregnant and with a toddler in her arms, had known exactly who Issie was and why she was there.
“Oh God, not another one,” she’d said wearily.
Issie had stared at Emma Tollen’s distended stomach and her legs had buckled. This was not a woman who was a wife in name only. Feeble and incoherent with distress, Issie had somehow found herself on Emma’s sofa, drinking sweet tea and sobbing while her boyfriend’s wife comforted her resignedly. The two women had talked for several hours and by the time Issie had felt strong enough to walk away, she’d known that the relationship with Mark was over. How could it be anything else? He had deceived her right from the very beginning.
“And no doubt she told you a pack of lies,” Mark sighed, the very picture of a wronged man. “Issie, my love, how many times do I need to tell you? It’s over with Emma. I’ve left her because it’s you I want to be with.”
And suddenly Issie understood. It was so obvious that she couldn’t help laughing.
“What?” Mark asked, looking offended. “What on earth can be funny?”
“You!” Issie gasped, pointing at him. “You with all your big gestures and your I love yous! What a load of rubbish! She’s kicked you out, hasn’t she? That’s why you’re here in yesterday’s clothes and without having a shave.”
“That’s rubbish! I left her! I left her for you!”
But he was lying, and his gaze slipped away from hers like butter from hot toast.
“Go home, Mark. I don’t want you here,” Issie replied.
Two red spots appeared on his cheekbones. “I don’t believe you. You don’t mean it!”
Issie’s fists were clenched with frustration. “I do. I really do. It’s over, Mark. Please go.”
“I don’t know who you are, but you heard my sister and you need to leave.” Jake had joined Issie, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Or else we can always help you on your way,” added Danny, stepping forward so that both brothers were flanking her. With his stern, scarred face and severe military crop, Danny looked exceedingly menacing.
Mark blanched. Throwing his weight around with eighteen-year-olds was one thing, but the two eldest Tremaine brothers were quite another. There was a sheen of sweat on his face, and a look of fear.
Once upon a time Issie would have felt pity for Mark – but not now. He was a weak, treacherous man who’d never thought of anyone but himself. If there was anyone she felt sorry for then it was Emma and her children.
Tossing a black look in Issie’s direction, Mark rose from his seat. He was doing his utmost to look dignified, but haste made him clumsy and he knocked the champagne all over his trousers. As he stood there huffing and puffing and looking like he’d wet himself, Issie realised that this was the real Mark Tollen, the one who hid behind his status as a tutor and who preyed on vulnerable undergraduates. Urgh. He was utterly pathetic.
“You’re making a big mistake,” he told Issie coldly. “You’ll never find anyone else who loves you like I do.”
“I do hope not,” Issie said fervently. “Go home, Mark. Make it up with Emma – if she’ll have you – and for God’s sake don’t ruin any more undergraduates’ education.”
Mark looked like he was about to reply, but with the eyes of everyone in the room on him he thought better of it. Instead he turned his back on Issie and stalked across the restaurant. All was quiet until the door clicked shut behind him, and then excited chatter bubbled up, filling the room. Issie waited for the stab of regret, but she only felt relief. She was free. Loving Mark had been nothing but a burden of guilt, and only now that it was gone did Issie realise how heavily it had weighed on her.
She was exhausted.
“I’m sorry, Granny,” she said to Alice. “I had no idea he was coming. I wouldn’t have spoilt your lunch for the world.”
Her grandmother smiled. “It takes a little more than a man declaring undying love to put me off my lunch.”
“I’ll be declaring undying love for you every day, so that’s just as well,” added Jonny, and laughter rippled through the restaurant.
“We’ll talk about this later,” Alice said, in a tone of voice that told Issie there would be no escaping the grandmotherly inquisition. “I think I understand now why you quit your degree.”
Issie hung her head. “I’m so sorry, Granny. I couldn’t tell you what had happened. I was too ashamed. I’ve been so stupid.”
“Stupid? Never, my love. I’m proud of you for sticking to your morals.”
Issie stared at her grandmother. “Really?”
“Really,” said Alice firmly. “But now isn’t the time to get into that. Maybe you should go and find Luke? He seemed pretty upset.”
Of course. Luke! What must he think? Horrified, Issie nodded.
“I haven’t a clue who that was, but I can guess – and it explains a lot,” Danny said to Issie, once the waiters had begun serving the starters and the excitement had died down. “Shall I go and give him a good kicking? It might be hard with only one arm and a dodgy leg, but if he’s hurt you I’m more than happy to give it a go.”
She laughed at this because in spite of his injuries her brother was easily stronger than Mark, and would no doubt terrify him. “Oh, Dan, I’ve been such an idiot.”
“Who hasn’t?” Danny said gently. “We love you, Issie, and I wish you’d told us what had been going on with you. Now get out of here and go and tell your friend Luke that he’s not just been dumped – because judging by the look on his face when that tosser Mark came in, that’s exactly what he thinks.”
Issie didn’t need asking twice. Poor Luke. She certainly had her fair share of explaining to do and she only hoped he would understand. She sprinted into the street, then looked left and right to make sure Mark wasn’t lying in wait with another deadly guilt trip. Having reassured herself that he’d gone, Issie was heading in the direction of the harbour when an arm shot out from a doorway and a hand fastened about her waist. The sweet smell of cannabis mingled with Bleu de Chanel gave the identity of her assailant away in an instant.
“Get off me, Teddy,” Issie snapped, shaking off his clammy hand. She really hadn’t got time for this. What was up with all the men in Polwenna Bay today? Was there a weird full moon or something?
“Chillax, Is,” drawled Teddy. Even in the gloomy doorway she could see that his pupils were huge. Great. Teddy, stoned and belligerent. This was all she needed.
“I only wanted to give you a warning because I care about you. Christ knows why,” he continued.
“Yeah right,” scoffed Issie. Since his quarrel with Luke, Teddy had been vengeful and resentful; there was no way he’d want to watch out for her now. She didn’t trust him an inch.
“I’m serious.” Teddy drew on his joint, the tip glowing scarlet, and breathed out a puff of sweet smoke that made her nose wrinkle. “Here I was in this doorway, quietly skinning up and minding my own business, when who happened to pause right here but Captain bloody America?”
“Big deal,” said Issie scornfully.
“Ah, but I haven’t finished. Our Yank pal then made a very enlightening phone call to a woman. Stella, I think he called her? They seemed very… close.”
Issie’s face gave away her shock, and Teddy laughed. “I can see that’s got your attention. Want to hear the rest?”
Her mouth had dried but, like a rabbit mesmerised by an adder, Issie couldn’t have stepped away even if she’d wanted to. Teddy genuinely had heard something. How else could he have known about Stella?
“I don’t really understand what he was talking about,” he said thoughtfully, inhaling again and blowing smoke rings into the afternoon air. “It’s not that I’m totally mashed, Issie, more that it
didn’t make any sense to me. Whatever have you two found that’s worth so much money? What did he mean by,” with the joint wedged firmly in the corner of his mouth, Teddy made inverted commas in the air with his fingers, “hitting pay dirt? And why is this Stella going to set him up with a boat and a dive team in Florida?”
Blood was racing around Issie’s body now, and she steadied herself by laying a hand against the door.
“If I didn’t know better,” Teddy continued slowly, enjoying every malicious moment of his revelation, “I’d say that your new best buddy isn’t quite who he says he is. In fact, I’d say that he sounds just like a professional treasure hunter over here for the express purpose of finding Black Jack Jago’s loot. He seems none too scrupulous how he finds it, either. Just the sort of cynical manipulator who’d sleep with a girl who was silly enough to tell him everything he wants to know. Somebody’s taken you for a ride, Issie Tremaine, haven’t they? They’ve used you. Led you to believe one thing and then done another. It doesn’t feel very nice, does it?”
Issie didn’t wait to hear any more. With Teddy’s mocking laughter echoing in her ears she was running through the village as fast as she could, through the narrow streets, past the green, over the bridge and then past the harbour and up towards the last few cottages. Even though her lungs were burning she didn’t stop; neither did she pause to intervene in an argument between Mickey Davey and the two men in the car park – presumably still blocked in by the belligerent café owner. All she could think about was reaching Luke and finding out what he was playing at. She needed to know who Luke Dawson really was. He’d said he was here to research a paper on the smuggling trade, and he’d certainly had a great grasp of the subject. It had seemed plausible. Yet several times he’d said things that had taken her aback, and for an academic he certainly had a good tan. And his knowledge of handling boats had even impressed the notoriously tricky Ashley. Issie had just assumed this was all part and parcel of growing up on the Keys and living in the sun, but now she was starting to wonder.
Treasure of the Heart Page 22
