by Alicia Hope
At that thought, it occurred to her that Royce might be joining them on the dive trip. Someone had mentioned he held a dive ticket. She suppressed a snigger, wondering why thinking about a man-eater like the great white had brought Royce to mind. And then she found herself looking for Kerry, who sat close to the front of the plane, dressed in a very short skirt. Now there was the human equivalent to a man-eater, if ever one existed.
Verity turned to look at Guy again and in her peripheral vision, caught Royce gazing at her from across the aisle, two rows behind. He looked away as soon as their eyes met. She studied him pensively, thinking he seemed a little strange lately. Was his conscience bothering him? She raised a derisive eyebrow, just as her ears picked up a changed note in the plane’s motor, heralding the start of its descent.
‘We’re nearly there,’ she said breathlessly to Guy, before turning to look out the window, searching the horizon for a sign of land. Then she saw it, a mottled green jewel below, surrounded by brilliant white sand and the clear ocean’s glistening blues.
The little plane carried them down to a smooth landing on the tiny runway.
Once in the resort, the delegates were able to check-in with gratifying promptness. Verity was pleased to drop her bags in the corner of her spacious bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Its lace-edged white linen felt silky-soft beneath her fingers, and she gave an appreciative sigh. She caught a hint of floral perfume and looked around for its source. Lit candles floated cheerfully among fresh blossoms in a glass bowl on the bedside table, behind which semi-closed white plantation shutters offered a glimpse of a leafy courtyard.
With a smile, she rose to unpack, taking care to hang her outfits so any folding creases would drop out. When she’d finished, she decided to change out of her suit and take a stroll around the resort, to get her bearings, stretch her legs, and enjoy the sea air. Opening the wardrobe, she chose a sleeveless shift in rich blue cotton knit, with a satin-bound neckline. The soft folds of the dress skimmed over her slender body to just above ankle length. She donned sandals and stood in front of the mirror to pin up her hair. She paused for a second before grabbing a pretty snug in soft buttercup cashmere, to drape around her shoulders. That should give her enough protection against the cooling afternoon sea air....
Back from her stroll, Verity sat enjoying the serenity of her unit’s plant-filled private courtyard. The resort nestled into a small hill, so from this vantage point she could enjoy a panoramic view of white sand and blue ocean. With eyes half closed against the late afternoon glare, she raised her tumbler and took a sip of soda water infused with fresh lime juice. Ice cubes bobbed and clunked happily as she raised and lowered the glass.
She knew she should have been going over her meeting papers again, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the setting sun’s rays, dancing with gilded feet on the rolling ocean waves. It reminded her why she loved Australia, and its western region in particular, so much.
The ferns hanging from the rafters above her head swayed in a gentle draught, and she sighed, sinking further into her chair. The nasturtium blooms that spilled riotously from planter boxes in every corner, reflected the bright orange cushions on the courtyard’s wicker furniture. Verity closed her eyes briefly and allowed her other senses to take in the island’s delights.
The salty sea breeze played through the jasmine curling its way up the courtyard posts and joining the brilliant scarlet bougainvillea on the rafters overhead. Verity breathed in the jasmine’s heady perfume, savouring the aromatic offering. A lone seabird gave a lingering cry as it coasted above the water, momentarily disturbing the rhythmic whisper of waves on wet sand. Spring was definitely the right time to visit this island paradise....
Opening her eyes, Verity checked her watch. She would soon have to dress for dinner. The serenity slipped from her face. Dining with her colleagues that night would be a business meeting in pleasant surroundings rather than an enjoyable culinary experience, with corporate dealings the inevitable topic of conversation. Rising reluctantly, she promised herself she would return to the island, for a holiday next time, and soon.
Royce stood at the restaurant’s bar, staring moodily into his scotch glass. Unlike the other guests, he’d hardly touched his drink. When his eyes swept the room, his lips tilted at the corners at the sight of his esteemed colleagues happily letting their hair down. He lifted his own glass and finally took a drink, marvelling that he too was beginning to feel he’d left his worries behind on the mainland. He gave a grim smile.
Must be the island casting a spell on us all.
He wondered where Verity was, and frowned.
Why do my thoughts keep going to her?
He took another drink, draining his glass in annoyance. Right at that moment, Verity quietly entered the room. Her eyes fell on Royce straight away. He’d removed his suit coat, and his long-sleeved shirt was a brilliant white beacon which, teamed with his height, made him stand out from the crowd. But when she glimpsed his surly countenance, she made a mental note to avoid him as much as possible. If he looked like that so early in the piece, what sort of company would he be later?
Guy watched Verity come into the room and smiled. Her tailored crepe de Chine pant suit, in an eye-catching aqua shade, floated around her as she moved. Though feminine and pretty, it was also dignified and befitting a business function. She had piled her shining hair high, with a few wisps curling attractively around her face. Despite rising very early that morning to host the US delegates’ refinery tour, followed by a two-stage journey from Bunbury to the island, she looked relaxed and refreshed. Guy watched her order a cocktail from the bar, and was amused to see the reactions of the other males as they became aware of her presence.
Royce too was watching Verity, conscious of the attention she’d attracted despite her discreet entrance. It looked like she was being deluged with offers of drinks and somewhat dubious male companionship, until Guy walked over to that end of the bar and slipped into a chair beside her. His good-humoured seniority prompted the others to give them some space.
When Verity turned towards Guy, Royce saw relief on her face. He smiled cynically.
Introduce a chicken into a room full of roosters and you always get the same result.
But he’d never seen Brenda Sharpe receive this kind of attention. Royce allowed his eyes to take in Verity’s slim figure in her becoming outfit. With an annoyed gesture, he twisted around and tersely ordered another scotch.
Guy spoke quietly to Verity for a bit before rising to his feet to do a quick head count. He nodded at Verity and called out, ‘Good evening everyone, can I have your attention please? It’s time we were seated.’
Obediently, groups made their way towards the elegantly decorated tables. Starched white cloths, fresh floral arrangements and silver candelabras adorned each one. Guy took Verity’s arm and led her to a table. When Royce took the last remaining seat at it, almost opposite her, she stared at him until he glanced her way and she dropped her gaze. She didn’t see the hard light in his dark eyes involuntarily soften when they fell on her.
But Kerry did.
Busy with last minute arrangements, she had only arrived at the function moments earlier, and had taken a seat at the first available table, which happened to be Verity’s. Sitting across from Royce, Kerry regarded him calculatingly.
Despite her misgivings, Verity enjoyed the evening. The others at her table seemed determined to have fun, so although there was the inevitable shop talk, it didn’t dominate the conversation. Guy was his usual engaging self, while Vince Roberts spoke in length of his promising yearling’s form, suggesting everyone note its name so they could back it at its first start, and Tom Taylor described in humorous detail his visit to a small local vineyard, which he predicted would win awards for its outstanding shiraz, but not for its somewhat underwhelming customer service.
Verity couldn’t resist grinning at Tom’s increasingly ruddy complexion, no doubt a measure of his appreciation for a tipple
or three. Turning back, her eyes met Royce’s. He leaned forward as though to speak to her, and she gave an uncertain smile, just as Brenda Sharpe appeared at her elbow.
‘Verity, I haven’t had the chance to talk to you since we arrived.’
Brenda was almost unrecognisable in evening wear. Her short-sleeved dress in heavy aubergine-coloured satin, over which she wore a matching crushed velvet jacket, was certainly a change from the austere ‘power suits’ she normally wore. She beamed down at Verity with uncharacteristic warmth.
‘Miss Sharpe, I’m so glad you came over. I’ve been wanting to catch up with you.’ Verity smiled at her sponsor and indicated the chair to her left, which Vince had just vacated. She heard Royce give an impatient huff and saw him rise to his feet to stride over to the bar.
Brenda settled into the chair, saying amiably, ‘Look Verity, I’ve been meaning to ask you to call me Brenda. We don’t need to keep up the formalities.’
Verity inclined her head and smiled her acquiescence.
‘So, your first soirée as CEO. Are you having a good time?’
‘Yes I am. I expected the EC dinner to be a little more formal and ...,’ Verity trailed off.
‘Boring?’ Brenda’s quick mind and straight-talking tongue obviously didn’t desert her at social occasions.
‘Well, yes.’ Verity smiled sheepishly. ‘What about you, are you enjoying the evening?’
‘To be honest, once you’ve been to one of these “doos”, you’ve been to them all. But yes, I am enjoying myself tonight and that’s partly thanks to you.’
‘Me?’
Brenda chuckled, ‘Don’t look so astonished. You must’ve known I’d reap rewards from your successes ... just as I’ll share the blame for any failures,’ she added ruefully. ‘But I think you’ll agree that together, we girls are proving a force to be reckoned with.’
Verity blushed a little at the unexpected praise. ‘But surely I haven’t been in the job long enough to be judged so favourably?’ She lowered her voice. ‘And there’ve been some hiccups, as you know. How could the board, or anyone, tell how successful or otherwise I’ve been, when I haven’t even given my first report yet?’
Brenda snorted. ‘Mere details, my dear, don’t let them interfere with a good story! Actions reveal your calibre better than words do, and hiccups are inevitable in business. You’re measured on how you handle those hiccups. Bottom line—and we all know that’s what counts most in the corporate world—you’re hurdling barriers and kicking goals.’ Her heavily made-up face grew serious again. ‘But yes, your first report is an important milestone, so you need to put in a good performance at tomorrow’s meeting. Do you feel confident, prepared? Do you know what to expect?’
Verity nodded. ‘Yes, Royce was a big help early-on, and gave me a heads-up on EC meeting protocol.’ Both women glanced over at Royce and saw Kerry walk up to him. They watched her stand on tip toes and whisper into his ear, her body pressed against his.
Brenda raised an expressive eyebrow. ‘That PA of yours sure has a taste for the boys.’
Verity grimaced and hastily looked away, mumbling, ‘Yeah, but she needs to tread carefully, despite having found another willing subject.’
Brenda’s brow creased as she regarded the pair. ‘I don’t know about that, Royce doesn’t look all that thrilled—’
Verity interrupted her, saying brightly, ‘Did you know we’ve organised a scuba dive for tomorrow morning?’ She received a nod in reply. ‘Have you given any thought to joining us, Brenda? It should be a wonderful day for diving. The forecast is for fine weather and calm seas. They don’t come much better than that.’
Brenda chuckled deep in her throat. ‘Thanks for thinking of me, Verity, but Guy and I are planning to use the time to have a hit on the golf course. It’s only a par nine and probably won’t be any sort of challenge for an old thumper like Guy, but we thought we might get a few laughs out of it.’
‘Well, I’m sorry you won’t be joining us in the water, but it should be a great day for golf as well.’
As the two women chatted, Verity discovered a real liking for Brenda Sharpe. Nobody would deny she was one tough hombre, but underneath the hard-hitting exterior lurked an agreeable person.
Over at the bar, Jim Stowe came looking for his wife, and Kerry allowed him to lead her away, leaving Royce on his own. He took another mouthful of scotch and turned his attention to Verity again, watching her from under hooded eyes, but his mind was on Kerry.
Damn her for making me feel like a bastard and Jim look like a fool. She doesn’t know when she’s on a good wicket, or when to give up.
His brow puckered. Kerry’s reaction to his knock-back had surprised him. He’d expected her to snarl in his face, but she’d simply graced him with a predatory smirk and one nonchalantly raised eyebrow, giving the impression she knew something he didn’t. That made him uncomfortable. He took another gulp of his drink.
I wonder what she’s up to....
Chapter Fourteen
Later that night, Verity lay across her bed, replaying the evening in her mind. It had turned out to be quite bearable. She rolled over and put her arms behind her head. After dinner she’d seen mostly ‘wiped clean’ plates making their way into the kitchen, which she took as a sign the dishes she’d chosen for the set menu had gone down well, literally. She had overseen this element herself, not trusting it to Kerry to whom food was secondary to at least one other of life’s little pleasures....
Verity had enjoyed her own choice of a small Greek salad and toasted flat bread, preceding beef fillet and maple-roasted vegetables served with a piquant sauce, and followed by creme brulé and fresh fruit. The meal was accompanied by a selection of local wines, and her first sample, a semillon sauvignon blanc, was so good, she couldn’t resist partaking of another couple of glasses over the course of the evening. It was more than she usually drank at official functions, but nowhere near as much as others had consumed.
Verity stretched and sighed. When she closed her eyes, Royce’s image flashed into her mind. During the evening he had behaved civilly, even gentlemanly when compared to some others, who managed to embarrass themselves by going overboard with the drinks. Verity pulled a face at the memory of some of the more cringe-worthy drunken shenanigans.
They forget they’re representing the organisation at official functions. Although it’s not my place to chastise them, maybe I could suggest a ‘code of conduct’ refresher for all executive staff...
She got up and slid open the plantation shutters to gaze through the glass door into the courtyard. The moon was casting a silver wash over the world. She couldn’t resist opening the door to let in the night air, which rushed inside as though the room had taken a deep breath. The muslin curtains billowed in the breeze and her nightgown floated around her bare legs. She inhaled deeply and stepped into the courtyard, her eyes taking in the shimmering strip of moonlight on the tiny, rhythmical waves lapping the shoreline.
She padded over to lean on a courtyard post, and gazed at the heavens. The night was cool and clear, the sky was awash with stars, and the full moon was the brightest pendant on the black velvet. She took another deep breath of sea air, noting its subtle jasmine top note, and held it in her lungs for a moment, before expelling it with an audible sigh.
‘Nice night.’
Verity jumped and whirled around.
Where did that voice come from?
She peered through the jasmine-covered wrought iron screen separating her courtyard from the next, and caught a glimpse of movement from a shadowy figure. The screen offered privacy, but was not a solid partition by any means. She winced.
Why didn’t I notice that before? Here I am, blithely stepping out in my pyjamas!
‘Oh! Um ... yes, it is a night nice ... er ... a nice night.’ She bit her lip and tried to control her thumping heart.
‘Did I startle you?’
To Verity’s ears, his deep voice held a note like warm honey. It felt reassurin
g.
Be careful, she cautioned herself.
‘Well, yes, I guess you did a little ... Royce.’ She glanced at the door to her unit. Should she edge her way back there?
‘Sorry. I just thought it best to let you know I was here, so you wouldn’t think I was lurking in the dark, spying on you.’
Could he see her from over there? She peered through gaps in the greenery and could just make him out, leaning on a post, looking up at the sky. His uncharacteristically warm, friendly tone had a comforting effect, and Verity grew more confident. After all, he couldn’t see her clearly, and she could retreat to her room at any time. A brief wind gust lifted her fringe from her forehead, caressing the smooth skin beneath it. It felt good, and she paused, sorely tempted to remain outside.
‘So, if you’re not prying on the neighbours, what are you doing out so late?’
‘Same as you, I assume, enjoying the night.’ Royce was silent for a few moments before murmuring in awe, ‘This place. It makes me yearn for the simple life ... tempts me to turn my back on the rest of civilisation and just stay here.’
Verity leaned on her post again and tilted her face upwards, mirroring him. ‘Would you really want that? Escape to an island and leave behind all your worldly possessions?’ She could sense his gaze turning towards her, and then, to her dismay, she heard him walk onto the grassed area fronting the unit block. From there he had only to turn sideways to see her clearly—in her revealing attire. Her chemise’s cowl neck and shoestring straps suddenly felt very flimsy. She straightened and quickly adjusted the matching wrap which had slid down her arms to show the satiny skin of her shoulders. But its soft fabric did little to hide her shape. She felt very exposed, so she hurriedly pulled over a chair and sat down.
