“Give a dog a bad name,” Nick said bitterly.
Donna was silenced. Nick sounded miserable. There had been some sort of tension between him and the countess. Would a rich countess take a penniless womanizing photographer seriously?
Chapter Twelve
“We’re here,” Nick said.
Donna blinked. She was so immersed in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized the car had stopped. The couple in the BMW had got out and was strolling towards them. Nick came around and helped her out and into the warmth of the night air. They were in a car park. Through a fringe of palms the bay stretched out in front of them.
“Trailer Boat Club,” Nick said. “We can have a quick drink. You can admire the Darwin moon, and then I will drop you back at the hotel.”
“Is that moon real?” Donna asked.
An improbably large yellow moon lit the expanse of bay. The oppressive, searing heat of the day was gone, leaving only the soft warmth. Donna felt her headache clear. Even the ache in her ankle eased. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become over the last few months, what with the worry of her father’s illness and her brother’s pigheadedness. Nick was right. She was in the mood for a relaxing drink before she settled for the night.
“One genuine Darwin moon,” Nick said.
“Turned on especially for you,” Lang called back as he ushered Maria ahead along the path.
They moved ahead to a large open space, fringed by the palms and covered with tables. None were vacant. Nick steered her closer to the beach. Through a fringe of palms, the bay stretched out in front of them. Lang and the countess headed for the bar.
“Not like it to be this busy this hour of the night,” Nick grumbled.
Lang and Maria returned, followed by two men carrying a small table and four chairs. The table and chairs were set down and the men hurried away.
“There’s plenty of beer,” Lang said. “Or did you want something fancy?”
“Beer will do,” Donna said. “Is the place usually this popular?”
“Some of the diving groups are on the town catching up on their socializing,” Maria explained.
“Peal divers?” Donna questioned.
“What else?” Maria said with a shrug.
Donna studied the noisy group closest to them. By the look of the empties around the table, they had all been drinking for a while. She had to find an opportunity to talk to some of them. Lang and Nick headed through the crowded tables towards the bar.
“I’ve been admiring your pearls,” Donna said.
“One of the advantages of belonging to a pearling concern,” Maria said.
“I still think that the pearling industry must be fascinating.”
“Just like running an ordinary run of the mill farm, except it is pearls, not wheat or beef being harvested and just as much paperwork.”
“Told her so,” Lang said as he and Nick returned. He put down Donna’s beer.
“Here’s your daiquiri,” Nick said as he placed the frosted glass in front of Maria. “We didn’t even need you to terrorize them into faster service.’
“I only terrorize people who need terrorizing,” Maria said.
Nick’s good humor vanished. “I should present you with a gun for your next birthday. You’re practically a professional terrorist. It will be seven years, won’t it?”
The tall red-headed woman stood and slapped Nick’s face so hard that the conversation at the next table stopped. She stormed away into the darkness and Nick strode off after her.
Lang looked after the departing figures thoughtfully. Nick had pulled Maria to a stop. He said something, and she raised her hand, but he gripped her wrist.
“Nick should remember that temper goes with red hair,” Lang said.
Nick dropped a light kiss on Maria’s brow. They started walking back.
“I’ve apologized for my crude words and am volunteering to take Maria night clubbing,” Nick explained when they reached them. “Would you mind dropping Donna back at the hotel for me?”
“My pleasure,” Lang said politely.
“Hope to catch up with you again, Donna,” Maria called as she and Nick left.
“Of course,” Donna agreed.
“Would you like another beer?” Lang asked.
“Ah yes,” Donna said. This was going to be an ideal opportunity to move off alone while Lang was getting her drink. “If you point me in the direction of the ladies’, I would appreciate it.”
Lang escorted her towards the building behind them and pointed to a door. “Meet you back at the table,” he said.
Donna waited until he had vanished into the crowd before limping her slow way through the noisy tables. A lot of the drinkers were big men, with heavily muscled shoulders and much the same build as her brother Matt. Some of them had hair length and coloring similar to Matt.
A large figure with streaked blonde hair loomed in front of her. She gasped. It was too much to hope that she would find Matt on her first evening. The figure moved out of the shadows. White teeth gleamed and a pearl glowed in one ear as a large hand pulled her to a stop.
“You look lonely, aye?” a hoarse voice said.
“No. Are you one of the divers?”
“Back for some R. & R. Good spot, aye?”
“A Queenslander off the beaten track,” Donna suggested, understanding her question had been answered in the positive.
“Smart lady! Have to go where the work is. Like a drink?”
“No thanks. Do the other divers follow the work as well?”
“Some.”
“Just interested,” Donna said picking up on his suspicion. Was the entire diving industry filled with runaways? “I think the pearl industry is fascinating.”
“So are you, lady.” The big man sat down on a chair and pulled Donna on to his lap. She turned her head from the stale mixture of beer and spirits breathed into her face.
“Thank you. My escort will be looking for me.”
“He can find himself another lady. Plenty around.”
Donna tried to work out what to do. She could incapacitate her captor, or even scream the place down, but it was hardly the right way to remain on a friendly basis with the diving fraternity.
“I do really have to go. Perhaps some other time?”
“No time like the present,” insisted her captor.
“Some other time, Jimbo. Like the lady said.” Lang smiled. “She’s with me.”
“Plenty of females around, Lang, aye?” Jimbo protested but the vice-like grip relaxed from around Donna.
“Go find yourself one,” Lang advised. He drew Donna to her feet and picked up her walking stick. ‘Come and finish your beer, and I’ll drop you back at the hotel.”
“See you again some time, lady. Bye, Lang,” Jimbo called after them.
“Is his name really Jimbo?”
“Probably not, but that’s what he is known as,” Lang replied.
“Is the diving fraternity into anonymity?” Donna queried as she sat down and drank her beer.
“Is this going to be part of your article and/or attack on the pearl industry?” Lang asked.
“Just curious.” Donna changed the subject. “Perhaps you can tell me about Billican Island? Might want to do an article on conservation as well.”
“And curiosity killed the cat,” Lang said sharply. “Jimbo has been drinking.”
“Thank you for the rescue, kind sir,” Donna said.
“I was concerned that you might not want to be rescued.” Was he teasing, or was there a stiff note in his voice?
Donna stifled a giggle. It was composed of part reaction, part nervousness, and part amusement. Jimbo had represented a dilemma. All the same, Lang had sounded almost stiff, or were there overtones of possessiveness in his voice? That, of course, was ridiculous. They were on too casual a basis for that.
“You didn’t want to be rescued?” Was there disappointment in that question?
Did Lang assume she was into picking
up or encouraging the Jimbos of this world? Donna tried not to giggle again. Was she high on one beer? Suddenly, it seemed exquisitely amusing that Lang had misinterpreted her reluctant captivity.
“I d—did want to be rescued.” Her mirth intensified. “It’s just that I am not used to being rescued by such a gallant and righteous knight errant.”
In the moonlight, Lang’s smile was wry. “Like my strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure? Anyone ever tell you, Miss Donna Madison, that you are a hussy?”
“All the time,” Donna agreed. “Honestly, I am really grateful for your rescue.”
“Like a Sir Galahad,” Lang drawled. Now he sounded annoyed. Only Donna was too muddled to analyze exactly why. “Except I lack the requisite strong-mindedness to avoid temptation, and you represent temptation with a capital T.”
They had almost reached the cleared space where the table and its two beers waited. Lang’s arms reached around her and pulled her against him into the shadows of the palms, and his mouth came down on hers.
Her giggle was stifled. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, was possessed firmly, and softened into an astonished response. Suddenly nothing was amusing any more. She fitted so comfortably against the length of his lean body. The sense of rightness spread and kept on spreading. The chatter and the background noise faded.
Deep inside her inexplicable sensations sprang into demanding life. Lang gave a soft groan. Her racing pulse caused her face to heat at the images her undisciplined imagination was producing. She wanted…
Lang pushed her away firmly. He was breathing heavily. She stared at him in bewilderment and tried to slow her own errant breathing down. The thudding of her heart sounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
The normal noises of people enjoying themselves returned and with it ice cold shock and sanity. The inexplicable reaction of her body faded. Her cheeks went hot again. What sort of an idiot had she nearly become? What had possessed her to react in such an out of control manner over a casual kiss? She put her weight on to her forgotten ankle and winced.
Lang’s eyes flickered to her ankle. He looked startled and incredulous. “I had forgotten about your ankle,” he said. “I’ll drop you back to your hotel.”
“Yes,” Donna said flatly.
They walked along the path, past their table with their waiting beers, past the palms, the bright gold moon lighting their way and across the car park to the waiting BMW. His hand, supporting her arm as she limped beside him, was impersonal. He unlocked the car. She got in, thankful to be able to sit down.
Reaction had set in. She wasn’t into being impulsive. She was sure there was no insanity in the family. She shivered, despite the warmth, and with the reaction came caution. Lang and the temperamental Maria were an item, even if Maria had gone off night clubbing with Nick!
The car purred its way to her hotel. The silence lengthened and became uncomfortable. Lang escorted her up to the sixth floor and waited as she unlocked her door. She looked up at him. Had he regretted kissing her? Had her enthusiastic response embarrassed him? He remained silent and his face gave nothing away.
At last Donna forced a smile and held out her hand. “I won’t invite you in, Sir Galahad. Even if I am a hussy.”
He sighed and dropped a butterfly kiss on her palm. “I have to confess to an understanding and a liking for hussies. Oh, and it’s a deep dark secret, but the countess is my sister.” He paused. “My twin sister.”
Donna nodded. That was why she’d thought she had seen the countess somewhere before. She had recognized the feminine version of the high cheek bones of the face now watching her with such a daunting lack of expression. “There is a family resemblance.”
She tried to remember what was next on the agenda. Some excursion to a tourist venue. Fortunately she would have a free morning to write up her notes.
“I’ll expect either you or Nick tomorrow at two p.m.” she said pleasantly.
“Punctuality is my second name,” he agreed, equally as pleasantly, and turned and left.
Chapter Thirteen
Donna went inside her hotel room, carefully putting down her neat satchel with its tape recorder and notes. She went out on to the balcony and looked down as the silver BMW slid away. Why had the mention of Billican Island suddenly changed the pleasant atmosphere between them? Or had the atmosphere been that friendly this evening? He had seemed less friendly. She had sensed him tense and suddenly get impersonal and unfriendly when he collected her from the diver. Why?
It was only as she strolled back into her room that she realized the light had been turned off and her television turned on. A large shadow waited in the armchair.
“I’m up to my neck in something, and you are endangering both me and yourself by snooping around,” Matt’s voice whispered. “Go home!”
His voice sounded crisp and focused. He didn’t sound as if he was spaced out on anything. Despite his weird actions in trying to evade her all these weeks, he still sounded normal. Donna breathed a relieved sigh and went over to kneel beside him. She wondered about the television.
“Who are we in danger from, Daddy dear?” she whispered back. “Is this room bugged?”
“Can’t find any, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. What’s the ‘Daddy dear’ nonsense for?”
“You’re going to be a father in six months.”
There was a silence. Donna peered at the large shadow. Had it suddenly gone very tense and rigid?
“Jenny?” he whispered at last.
“Was there a reason she didn’t tell you?” Donna asked.
“How could that have happened?” Matt almost groaned.
“I can recommend some perfectly good books on the subject.”
“She’s so young. The understanding was that we wait until she finished her degree.”
“Your understanding,” Donna ventured.
“She will be with that batty aunt of hers. I bet she put her up to it.”
Donna started to giggle. Her normally self-possessed and unflappable brother sounded almost frantic. “I think you underestimate your Jenny. She said she wasn’t prepared to wait for five years before marrying.”
‘She’s so young,” he repeated.
“So you will leave her as an unmarried mother for the next five years?”
“No,” Matt snarled, his voice rising. “I will attend to the matter most urgently.”
“So what is going on?” Donna whispered.
“It isn’t safe for you up here. Go home!”
“Go home yourself,” Donna retorted.
“On the fastest plane as soon as I finish with this rubbish,” Matt promised in a low voice.
“Billican Island ring a bell?” Donna asked. “Why was Rabbit waiting with a rifle for some visitors?”
“Go home,” Matt repeated grimly. “This is out of your league.”
“Lang assumed that Jimbo had said something about Billican Island. What is so interesting about Billican Island?”
“Bulldog Madison after a new scoop,” he mocked.
“You’re more important than any scoop. I can keep my mouth shut.”
“It’s keeping your laptop shut that worries me.”
“Matt!”
“I’m working undercover among drug dealers.” Matt seemed to recognize how sincere she was.
“That horrid Mr. Smith,” Donna accused in a whisper. “He’s the reason you didn’t want to be stuck in a boring job with Dad.”
“He did suggest I would find this type of thing interesting,” Matt admitted.
“Working at the family business makes ideal cover,” Donna coaxed.
“Has been suggested,” Matt admitted with a sigh. “Maybe. In the meantime, you’re endangering my cover and our lives. This mob play for keeps.”
“If you break the ring, can I have the story?”
“We’re trying to catch the Mister Big behind it, not the small fry,” Matt explained. “We’re looking at someone wealthy and resp
ectable. The stuff is shipped in from overseas, dumped somewhere divers can collect it, and distributed down the coastline through various fishing boats.”
“Lots of wealthy people up here,” Donna grumbled. “And most of them seem to have contacts with the pearling industry, which is a good cover for employing divers. Also Lang Torrens had a phone call that said the drop-off date had been put forward by twenty-four hours.”
“Is it?” Matt said slowly.
“What is going on?”
“They need divers who won’t talk about the odd jobs they are asked to do.” Matt brooded.
“What about Billican Island?”
“Just a speck of rock some boat stubbed its toe on.” Matt sounded dismissive. “Some migratory birds make a stop there. It can’t be the drop-off point. The greenies and scientist are always there studying the birds.”
“How can I contact you?”
“You can’t! I leave in the morning for a diving job, and then I’m straight home to Jenny. Be a good girl, and keep your nose out of it.” He stood up, kissed her, and sauntered over to the door. He opened it a fraction and waited. Then he slid through, closing the door quietly behind him.
Donna locked the door. How had Matt managed to get in? How had whoever had stolen some of her photographs managed to get in? She suddenly felt insecure. She took the chair and jammed it against the door. She turned off the television, changed into her pyjamas, and went to bed.
Who could be the Mister Big of the drug dealers? What about the unpopular mayor who was a property developer? He even looked dishonest, she thought with a touch of amusement. She thought about Lang Torrens. He was wealthy, paranoid about intruders and evasive about his background. The mention of Billican Island had made him tense. A sense of disappointment was tingeing her thoughts. Was his wealth from drug smuggling? Could the island be the drop-off point? Lang was a photographer, so he had an excuse to visit it.
Not that she cared, she assured herself as she at last drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
The Secret Agenda Page 5
