'For tonight anyway,' he said thickly. 'Maybe soon you'll realise you can trust me completely.' He gave her one last brief kiss of passion, then went to the door, making sure no one was outside before he said goodnight and finally left her alone.
Zara didn't sleep at all well that night, lying awake almost until dawn, staring at the dying moonlight patterns on the ceiling, her body still hot and filled with the fierce ache of frustration. She had breakfast sent up to her room and joined the others just as they were due to leave the hotel. Heath looked up eagerly when she arrived, but Zara only gave him a brief nod before putting on a pair of dark glasses which served the double purpose of hiding the dark shadows around her eyes and her feelings from Heath.
He had hired a couple of jeeps with striped sun awnings and they drove to a more deserted area of the beach where the photographer decided on what shots he wanted. It took quite a time to set everything up, the photographer wanting to get the light and distances right, but the team all worked well together and there was very little Zara could do to help. After watching for a while she went to sit with the other girls in the shade of a palm tree and asked them what they thought of the clothes they were to model. They were enthusiastic and all talked clothes for some time while Heath and the assistant helped to set up the photographer's equipment. Perhaps inevitably one of the girls said to Zara, 'I heard a rumour that you run the Panache company. But surely you're much too young?'
Zara laughed easily. 'Of course I don't run it. I just work there.'
'How about Heath?' Gemma, the girl who had been trying to attract him the night before, asked. 'Is he your boy-friend?'
'Why, no.' Zara looked at the girl under her lashes, scenting an opportunity to keep Heath out of her hair. 'No, I just know him from business meetings over this advertising campaign.'
'He works for the Masterads agency, doesn't he?'
'Not only works for it but owns it. In fact, you could almost say that Heath Masterson is Masterads,' Zara emphasised.
'Really? He owns his own agency? And he's so macho too. I haven't met a man like him in ages.' Gemma looked at Zara. 'Are you making a play for him?'
Zara smiled slightly and shook her head. 'No, I have other—interests.'
'You won't mind, then, if I try to get to know him? Only he seems rather attracted to you.'
'Of course I don't mind. I wish you luck. And I'm sure you're mistaken. Like I said, he's just a business colleague, that's all.'
The photographer called the models over soon after and Zara strolled across to watch, deliberately standing next to the hairdresser so that Heath wouldn't have a chance to talk to her alone. But he came over anyway. He was wearing just a pale blue tee-shirt and darker blue, very short shorts, his strong legs already tanned, and his feet bare. Zara felt a tightening in her throat and could hardly answer him when he asked her whether she had got over her jet-lag.
'I suppose so. Although I—I didn't sleep very well.'
'Didn't you? Nor did I, as a matter of fact. Perhaps it's the change in temperature,' he added meaningly.
Zara gave him a quick look but then moved over to discuss the first change of swimwear for the models. They all worked more or less solidly all morning, but towards noon it got very hot and while the models were posing Zara decided to go in for a swim. She was wearing one of the Panache beach outfits herself; a pale orange one-piece swimsuit cut high at the sides to make the legs look longer and with an elongated diamond shape cut out of the front. Over it Zara wore a matching very long silky shirt, belted loosely at the hips, and her hair she had tied back in a plait with a twisted head band of the same orange material to complete the outfit.
Dropping the shirt on to the sand, she ran across the last few yards of beach and into the sea, beginning to swim as soon as she was in deep enough. The water felt cool and clean and beautiful. Lying on her back, Zara kicked her leg up in the air and watched the drops fly off in a thousand rainbow prisms reflected in the sunlight. She laughed, happy in her game, then turned to do a fast crawl out to a raft anchored in the bay, swam round it and back to the beach. She was still laughing happily as she ran out of the sea, drops of water clinging to her glistening body, and for a moment she wasn't aware that the photographer had walked down the beach and was snapping her as she ran towards him.
Catching sight of him, she laughed protestingly, but as she turned away saw that Heath, too, was watching her. She stopped, taken aback by the fierce flame of desire in his face, a desire that he made no attempt to hide. He began to walk towards her and she turned, like a bird ready to take flight, but he said. 'Wait,' in a strange harsh kind of voice which held her still.
Coming up to her, he put a hand on her arm, his eyes gazing so hungrily down into her face that she knew he was going to kiss her, right there in front of them all. Quickly she shook some water at him, splashing his face. 'Why don't you go in? The water's great.'
Heath blinked, then slowly grinned. 'Okay, why not?'
He put up his arms to pull off his shirt and Zara took the opportunity to call out and beckon the others. 'Come on! Come for a swim.'
They were all so hot that they didn't need any more encouragement to run and join them, only the photographer heroically staying on the beach to guard his equipment. Heath's mouth twisted wryly when he saw what was happening, but Gemma ran up and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the sea so that he had no chance to say anything. After their swim they had lunch at a beach restaurant and then drove to the harbour where they took some more shots with the big ocean liners in the background, and some shots of the nearby straw market. Heath tried to get Zara alone several times, but among so many people she was able to be with someone all the time and as Gemma was trying to get Heath alone she didn't have too much difficulty.
When they got back to the hotel Zara went to see the receptionist and then announced to the others that she had managed to get tickets for them all to go and see the show at the Casino Theatre that evening. Heath frowned, but there was nothing he could do about it, especially as Gemma went up to him, put her arm familiarly through his, and said, 'Isn't that great? And we'll be able to go to the casino and play the tables afterwards. My favourite game is roulette. What's yours?'
Leaving Heath to try and extricate himself, Zara ran up to her room and put a call through to her stockbroker in London. 'Have you got the Masterad shares for me yet?' she asked him.
'It's all going smoothly. We hope to finalise the deal tomorrow or the day after.'
'Can't you be more specific?' Zara asked impatiently. 'I don't want to have to stay here longer than necessary.'
'I'm sorry, Miss Layston, but this isn't the kind of deal we can push. It has to be done with—er—tact.'
'Well, just let me know the minute the deal's complete, won't you?'
She had hardly put the phone down when it rang again. For a moment she hesitated, but then picked up the receiver in case it was a call from her office in London. But, as she had feared, it was Heath.
'How about ducking out on the others and having dinner alone together tonight?' he suggested.
'But I've got tickets for the show. And everyone says that it's very good, really spectacular.'
'And I suppose you really want to see it?'
'Well, yes, I do.'
'Are you trying to avoid me again, Zara?'
She laughed lightly. 'Of course not.'
'Then promise to spend the day with me tomorrow.'
'I can't do that—the photographer might need us to help him.'
'He can manage perfectly well without us and you know it.'
In the end she had to agree to have dinner with him the next evening and just kept her fingers crossed that she would be able to make a last-minute excuse to get out of it. But she knew that Heath, having made what he felt to be some progress with her, was impatient to be alone with her again and wouldn't for long be fobbed off with any more excuses. And if he tried to make love to her again—Zara's heart froze—maybe this tim
e he wouldn't be willing to stop.
But at least she was safe and could relax tonight. They had a good dinner at a restaurant on the main island, a couple of them ordering seafood and the others experimenting with Caribbean dishes. The show too, was extremely good, the most spectacular that Zara had ever seen outside Paris. Afterwards they all went into the casino where the fruit-machine handles were red-hot from the tourists who continuously poured silver dollars into them. Gemma immediately got hold of Heath and led him towards the roulette tables, followed by the others who played or stood and watched. Zara found herself next to the photographer and asked him how much longer he would need to take the rest of the photographs.
'Another day should do it. I thought of taking a few in the old town and some in the Botanical Gardens. If that's okay with you?'
'Yes, of course, that's fine. I'll book seats on a plane the day after tomorrow, then.'
'Make it an afternoon plane, will you? I'm having the films I've taken developed at a local studio overnight and I want to see how they come out before we leave.'
Zara nodded and went on chatting to him for a while, but when she saw that Heath's attention was held by Gemma, she slipped away and went up to bed.
Disaster hit them the next morning. The phone rang while Zara was dressing and the photographer told her that both his assistant and the other model had been taken ill in the night. 'They're sending for a doctor,' he told her, 'but it sounds very much like food poisoning. If you remember they both had the lobster last night.'
'Oh no! What are we going to do? Can you manage with only one model?'
'Not really. We'd better meet for breakfast and discuss it. I've already phoned Heath.'
Zara went along to visit the invalids and ordered a nurse to look after them, then joined the other four for breakfast. 'Hallo. What a terrible thing to happen,' she greeted them. 'I suppose we'll just have to wait until they're better before we can finish the assignment.'
Heath and the two girls began to agree with her, but the photographer, who had been looking through a large brown envelope of photographs, suddenly sat up straight and said, 'No, we won't.'
They turned to him in surprise as he handed over a few of the photographs. They were of Zara running out of the sea, the sun kissing her body, and flying droplets of water like sprays of diamonds caught for ever by the camera. There was another photograph, too—of her and Heath when he had come up to her and put his hand on her arm. It was all there in their faces; Heath's sharp and tense with desire, hers vulnerable and afraid. But there was awareness there, too, in her parted lips and wide eyes. Zara grew still as she looked at the photograph, then slowly lifted her head to look at Heath. His eyes glanced at her for a moment, then he leaned across and took the photo from her hands to look at it himself.
'You see? You're a natural!' the photographer was saying excitedly. 'You could easily model some of the clothes for us today. And if we need a man in any of the shots we can use Heath as a stand-in.' He went on talking persuasively, but Zara's eyes had met Heath's over the photograph and suddenly it seemed as if there were no one else in the place. The crowded hotel dining-room was still and empty, there was no one but the two of them in the hotel, on the island, in the world. And because she wasn't listening properly, Zara murmured yes when the photographer asked her something and when she slowly came back to reality found that she had agreed to model for him.
'Oh, I didn't mean…'
But she was given no time to protest and soon found herself having her hair done and posing for shots while the photographer instructed her what to do. She did as he asked, leaning up against walls and trees, sitting in the driving-seat of one of the jeeps and always smiling, smiling, but all the time feeling in a numb kind of haze. A few times she had to pose with Heath, often with his arm around her waist or shoulders, and only then her senses came alive again as he touched her.
Because she was inexperienced it took longer and the sun was already beginning to go down when the photographer said he wanted to go back to the beach. 'The shots I took of the bikini didn't come out too well. I want to take them again.'
So they drove back to Paradise Beach and Zara put on a pale green bikini with halter straps. He shot her alone first, running along the beach with the sunset behind her, standing on the edge of a breakwater, silhouetted against the horizon, and listening to a conch shell. But then he wanted Heath to strip off his shirt and pose with her in just their swimsuits. Her heart beating crazily, Zara stood beside him, but the photographer said impatiently, 'No, no, put some life into it. Face him and lean against him. Yes, that's better.'
Heath put his hands on her waist, looking at her quizzically as she leaned against his chest. His skin felt hot and smooth to her touch, the tiny hairs glowing in the deep orange flare of the sunset.
'Now put your left arm round his neck, and your right on his chest—that's it. Now look at him, please.'
Zara slowly obeyed him, lifting her head until her eyes, shy and uncertain, met Heath's. His gaze held hers for a long moment and then, completely oblivious of the camera, he bent his head to kiss her. And as her mouth yielded under the pressure of his she acknowledged the truth that she had known in her heart all that day—that she had fallen in love with Heath all over again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tearing herself free from Heath's embrace, Zara turned and ran back up the beach, snapping out to the photographer, 'I've had enough. I'm going back to the hotel.'
'All right. The sun's almost set anyway.'
He began to pack his equipment away while Zara quickly put on slacks and a shirt and went over to sit in the back seat of one of the jeeps to wait, staring down at her hands gripped together in her lap.
Heath followed up the beach more slowly and pulled on his shirt, then walked over to the jeep.
Fully aware of him although she didn't look round, Zara burst out, 'Go away! Damn you, Heath, just go away and leave me alone!'
'Before you've even heard what I have to say?'
'There's nothing you can possibly say that I want to hear.'
Heath's face hardened. 'But maybe I want to say it .ill the same.'
But he had no chance to, because the make-up girl came over to load some clothes into the jeep just as the photographer called Heath over to give him a hand. He went reluctantly and had to drive the other jeep back to the hotel through the rapidly darkening night, so Zara was at least spared that. And when they arrived she just left the others and fled to her room, locking the door and pushing the bolt across as if all the devils in hell were behind her.
For a moment she leant against the door in relief, but then remembered the balcony and hurried to close those doors too. Admittedly there was a chest-high wall which curved outwards between the two balconies, but Zara had no doubt that Heath could climb round that easily if he was determined enough, even though they were on the fifth floor! Agitatedly she closed the blinds, then ran to the phone, just as someone rapped on her door. She stood frozen, clutching the receiver tightly, instinctively knowing it was Heath and afraid to make a sound, stupidly hoping that he would think she wasn't there and go away.
But he rapped on the door again and called, 'Zara, I know you're in there. What's the point in…'
His voice broke off and she guessed that some other people must have come up in the lift. In her ear she heard the switchboard operator's voice asking her what she wanted, but she didn't answer, afraid Heath might hear her voice. But he didn't knock again and her straining ears heard his own door slam shut. Only then did she speak hurriedly into the phone. 'Operator? Yes, I'm sorry, I do want to make a call. Would you put me through to the airport, please?' After what seemed to her impatient mind like hours, she was at last put through and was able to book a seat on a plane flying to Miami that evening, which would connect with another going to London a couple of hours later.
Thank goodness! Zara heaved a sigh of relief and put the receiver down. Which was a mistake, because it immediately rang.
Tension flooded through her, so strongly that it was as if she could feel it coming through the wall from Heath's room. Slowly she picked up the receiver, but didn't speak.
'Zara?' He said her name urgently, then added quickly, 'Don't put the phone down. I just want to see you for a few minutes, that's all. We can…'
But Zara cut him off, her hand trembling, then immediately got through to the receptionist to ask if there were any messages for her.
'Yes, ma'am, there's a cable from England. Shall I have it sent up?'
'Please. As soon as possible.' While she was waiting Zara got out her suitcase and began to throw things in haphazardly, then belatedly remembered the two sick members of their team and rang the photographer to ask how they were. He reported that they were both much better and would be able to leave the following clay.
'Oh, that's good news. Look, I'm sorry, but something has happened in England and I'll have to fly home ahead of you. But I'm sure you'll be able to manage. Tell the girls they can keep the clothes, will you ? And thank them for all their hard work. And my thanks to you, of course. I'll look forward to seeing all the photos when you get back.' A knock sounded on the door, a much more gentle one this time. 'I'm sorry, I'll have to go. Look forward to seeing you back in London. 'Bye.'
Crossing over to the door, Zara took the precaution of saying, 'Who is it?' before she opened it.
'Cable for you, ma'am.'
The voice definitely wasn't Heath's, so she opened the door a fraction and saw a hotel boy outside with her cable in his hand. 'Just a moment.' Taking some money from her purse, Zara opened the door properly to give him the tip and take the cable. But as she went to close it again Heath came up behind the boy and held it firmly open as he pushed past her into the room, saying, 'Hallo, darling, have we got a cable? Who's it from, I wonder?'
Before she could do more than open her mouth to call the boy back, Heath had pushed the door closed. Then he held her against the wall, his eyes glinting down at her for a moment before he bent to kiss her.
Passionate Revenge Page 12
