Trust Too Much

by Jayne Bauling

  But his blue eyes gleamed with enthusiasm and Fee knew that he welcomed the challenge and would probably find his greatest satisfaction in securing a foothold in Taiwan, just because of the difficulties.

  ‘Hong Kong has become too small for you, hasn’t it?’ she prompted, her previous resentment subsiding because, as always, she found herself drawn into and sharing his enthusiasm, as well as fascinated by his passion for property.

  ‘Not in the sense that I’m bored or frustrated by what we’ve got here, and we’ll continue to grow locally, but…’ Simon thought a moment’…I’d just hate to ever find myself entirely satisfied.’

  As a professional attitude, Fee could only respect it, but catching herself wondering whether he applied a similar creed to his personal life, or if the success of Rhodes Properties was a substitute for the permanency and growth so notoriously lacking in his relationships, she grew disturbed. Why did she have to be so interested in his private life, in danger of being intrigued—obsessed even?

  Just then, a woman at the far side of the restaurant caught Simon’s attention and he lifted a hand briefly in greeting. Fee was surprised. Although exceedingly glamorous, she was sure the woman must be approaching fifty.

  Simon grinned, reading her thoughts.

  ‘No, Fee, not an ex-lover, but an ex-stepmother…No, that’s not accurate either. She married one of my favourite stepfathers after his marriage to my mother ended.’

  Fee laughed. ‘How do you ever remember who’s who?’

  Simon also laughed, but the sound had a dismissive ring. ‘I don’t, it’s too complicated, but some of them kept in touch for a while. They were all nice people. Some of the women my father married or lived with even used to invite me to call them Mother, Mum, Mom, whatever…I obliged once or twice to begin with—my real mother didn’t mind and they were as much part of my life as she was—but after a while it began to seem ridiculous because I realised it wasn’t true, and that they’d be moving on in time.’

  Fee shook her head. ‘It’s unbelievable!’

  ‘It seemed normal to me,’ Simon returned indifferently, ‘although I could never understand why most of them got married so enthusiastically when they fell in love. That’s what led to the only really troubled times, when whichever marriage it was broke up and there’d be shrieking matches over money, homes, cars—even a tank of tropical fish once, I remember!’

  But it wouldn’t have seemed normal to begin with, Fee reflected. Those people had taught him to believe it was normal. The very young boy would have felt disappointed when someone well-liked moved on, and her sensitive imagination supplied a picture of him growing older, learning to expect the disappointment, perhaps training himself not to feel it until, eventually, its absence was genuine because all the expectations he had left would be negative ones.

  ‘I could never live like that,’ she confided candidly.

  Rejection hardened his face.

  ‘I’m not asking you to, darling,’ he drawled.

  ‘No, I meant I couldn’t have handled a childhood like yours,’ she corrected him sharply.

  ‘Yours was worse. At least I was never neglected,’ he returned. ‘But don’t worry about it. It hasn’t done me any harm.’

  ‘That’s debatable.’ Fee’s eyes sparkled with sudden anger.

  ‘I’ve told you before, I am what I am on my own account, no one else’s.’

  Simon sounded irritable, the glitter in his eyes warning her that he was on the verge of losing his temper. Nervously, Fee pushed her glass further away from the edge of the table and then inadvertently caught his eye again. To her surprise, his angry expression was replaced by a sardonic smile, and she had to bite down hard and swallow an instinctive answering smile.

  Horrible, superior, knowing man!

  But at the same time she had to acknowledge that after all he did play fair—some of the time—because he could have used his past to appeal to her sympathy. Nor did she really believe he was devious, despite her earlier accusation, or at least not devious in the way that Mr Sheldon had been.

  On the whole, though, she thought his openness probably stemmed quite simply from the fact that while he was interested in her at present—until someone else captured his attention—he didn’t want her badly enough to go to any actual trouble over her, since manipulating her into one dinner date hardly constituted feverish pursuit.

  ‘All right, I apologise.’ She humoured him with an eloquent little smile. ‘You’re not much misunderstood, or more sinned against than sinning, or anything like that.’

  ‘And as you see, I’m not totally unscrupulous either, Fee.’ Temper in retreat, Simon was evincing a complex mixture of appreciation and complacency as he held her eyes. ‘I’ve always tried to discourage women from casting me in that romantic role, although I’ve been too late in some cases—probably the Niobes you claim to have spent your life falling over.’

  Fatally, she found herself liking him for the moment, a spontaneous smile curving her sensitive lips and dancing in her eyes.

  ‘I was exaggerating about that,’ she admitted demurely.

  Simon was smiling back at her. ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘Slightly,’ Fee qualified pointedly, concerned that he might think she was flirting with him after that momentary softening.

  He laughed and studied her in silence for several seconds.

  ‘You don’t want to dance again, do you? No,’ he added drily as she began to shake her head. ‘I didn’t think you would. A liqueur?’

  ‘No, thank you, I don’t really like them.’

  ‘Coffee, then?’

  ‘No, but please may I try another of those little puddings while you have yours?’

  They were miniature fantasies, all whirls and swirls of fine sugar and cream, and she had already enjoyed one while Simon had chosen the simplest fruit dish on the menu.

  ‘You baby!’ He had begun to grin, but a frown took over. ‘You’ll have me doing it too, just like Charles and Babs, thinking of you as the naive teenager you used to be, if all your pleasures are so innocent. But you have grown up really, haven’t you, Fee?’

  She had tensed in response to the challenge, but she managed a serene smile.

  ‘That teenager would have forced herself to swallow a liqueur because she thought it was the sophisticated thing to do,’ she offered pointedly.

  The last traces of Simon’s frown vanished. ‘Whereas the adult woman does exactly as she pleases. I’m glad to hear it. It’s the only way to live.’

  ‘Within reason,’ she supplemented cautiously.

  ‘Of course, and with due consideration for both other people and ourselves—and I suppose most of the women I go out with are really considering themselves by avoiding those concoctions like the plague. But I doubt if you’ll ever have a weight problem—so please yourself while I please myself with some coffee, and then I’ll take you home.’ Seeing the wariness that crept into her dark blue eyes at this, Simon smiled ironically. ‘Just that, Fee. As you know, I rarely make promises, but when I do I keep them, and a lot was implicit in that promise I made your mother hen of a sister earlier.’

  But he never made the sort of big, important promises that changed lives or created happiness, she reflected with an odd sensation of sadness.

  Simon kept his word, seeing her safely to the little flat, helping her sort out the unfamiliar keys and making sure she was locked in before departing.

  ‘See you on Monday,’ was all he said, and he had made no attempt to touch her.

  So if he really felt any desire for her, it certainly wasn’t the desperate, driving sort, Fee reflected tartly—unless he thought that by remaining somewhat elusive, playing hard to get in essence, he would pique a passionate response. But she couldn’t really see him bothering with such subtle tactics. She wasn’t important enough.

  Then again, as Simon was known to be quite capable of losing interest long before a relationship got anywhere near the bedroom, maybe that was what.
<
br />   was happening.

  * * *

  At work the following week, he made no reference to anything that had passed on the Saturday, and Fee found herself possessed by a lost, oddly uncertain feeling, frustrated by not knowing for sure if his impersonal attitude was dictated by the rules of their working relationship or was the simple result of loss of interest.

  Whichever it was, she ought to be relieved, she reminded herself rather frantically, beginning to be frightened. She couldn’t afford to start reacting emotionally to Simon. The fact that she reacted physically was bad enough, but she could deal with that—just as long as no personal emotion existed to weight physical attraction.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I’LL need you with me, at least part of the time, and before we go I also want you to familiarise yourself with our various departments’ methods sufficiently to be able to answer any questions from the Macau personnel while Freitas and I are busy or visiting our sites. Don’t worry, he’ll agree to your talking to them individually or in small groups, since you’re uncomfortable with a lot of people looking at you. Thursday suits you, doesn’t it?’ Simon concluded.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Fee responded composedly, trying not to be moved by his readiness to consider a personal foible. ‘How do you want to get there? I suppose we’ll need to make an early start?’

  ‘Not horrendously early since we’ll be staying overnight. Maynah Norman made hotel bookings some time ago, before she got it into her head to leave—haven’t you come across some kind of confirmation yet? I decided we’d need part of Friday in which to cover what we don’t fit in on Thursday, when we’ve got the official launch luncheon with all the obligatory speeches, and it’s likely to overrun, especially with the Macau media in attendance as well as a few representatives from Hong Kong. Plus, I want to do something for Freitas on Thursday night—dinner, I think—just to welcome him on board as head of our Macau concern. I’ve invited him personally already—What’s wrong?’ Simon digressed abruptly, finally noticing Fee’s shuttered expression.

  ‘Nothing.’ But she sounded stilted, staring blankly at the screen on her desk for a moment before looking up at Simon, who had paused to issue his instructions on his way out to lunch with a banking tycoon. ‘Will Maynah also have booked something for Thursday night, or should I go ahead and organise it?’

  ‘Please. Get in touch with Freitas’s assistant and see what she recommends if you’re uncertain. For four of us, as there’s a Senhora de Freitas.’ Simon paused, impatience flickering in his eyes as they swept over her face. ‘There is something wrong! Was it my mention of the media? I know a section gave you a bad time in Australia, but these will be business reporters and the like, Fee, and the only thing they’re likely to sensationalise is the way we snatched Freitas.’

  He was referring to an operation which had been carried out with a devastatingly efficient combination of hard and soft sell after the outside firm of head-hunters he had commissioned had recommended the man. Fee had only joined Rhodes Properties in the closing stages of the process, but she had heard about it and been impressed by the slightly ruthless way Simon had lured Senhor de Freitas into resigning from a high-powered position with excellent prospects in another property firm over in Macau.

  Now she said stiffly, ‘I know that. Nothing’s wrong, Simon. You’d better go or you’re going to be late for lunch.’

  Still his eyes searched her face, and she could see the irritation tightening his features.

  ‘I suppose it’s something personal, and as usual you’re adhering to the rules, which you’ll accuse me of breaking if I insist on knowing what it is,’ he suggested contemptuously.

  ‘Nothing is—’

  ‘Stop repeating that stupid word,’ he interrupted shortly. ‘Obviously something is worrying you, although if you had a date with Warren Bates for Thursday night or something of that sort maybe you’re right and it’s nothing important.’

  It was Simon at his most cuttingly dismissive, and he departed without giving her a chance to retaliate.

  She was being silly, Fee told herself. Just because one business trip had ended so disastrously, it didn’t mean this one had to. Simon wasn’t Vance Sheldon. She could trust Simon, even if he still had a whim about making her the next woman in his life—which seemed unlikely, given the aloofness that had characterised his recent behaviour until today’s brief flash of temper.

  She could trust him, and if she was going to let the idea of a business trip disturb her to this extent she should never have accepted this job, or any other like it, because such trips were inevitably part of the package.

  Of course, she could have told Simon what was troubling her, but she had an idea that, instead of reassurance, such a confession would have elicited some of his most lacerating derision, and, while she was tougher than she had been in her teens and quite capable of answering back, she still wasn’t as resilient as she would like to be where Simon was concerned. Somehow, he had the power to hurt and humiliate her. It wasn’t that she thought he would take advantage of the vulnerability the confession would betray; she just shrank from the prospect of his scorn if he knew how stupidly trusting she had been.

  So she kept telling herself that there was nothing to worry about—and she wasn’t really worried, but the approaching trip to Macau had disinterred the memory of the one to Perth, and it haunted her mercilessly once more over the next couple of days.

  The night before they left, she even woke trembling and wet with the perspiration of panic from a dream which was a replay of the fear followed by embarrassment that she had suffered in Perth.

  She was unable to sleep again, and faint smudges marked the delicate skin beneath her eyes when she and Simon departed for Macau in the morning, Simon having elected to go by jet-foil, wanting the hour of time and the space it provided in order to go over some papers.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded when he was satisfied, noticing her properly for the first time. ‘The motion isn’t making you feel sick, is it?’

  Fee gave him a strained smile. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks.’

  ‘Have you been to Macau before?‘ The clever blue eyes were noting her pallor.

  ‘Yes, once.’ Her smile grew more natural. ‘We spent a lovely day and evening there when Babs and I were children and my father and Angela were having one of their rapprochements and being all family-minded and responsible, so even Babs could relax and not have to worry about looking after herself and me.’

  ‘Are you glad you came back to Hong Kong?’

  ‘Yes, it’s home. I loved Australia, but Hong Kong has got so much that’s unique and special. I’ve been indulging myself since I got back, doing all my favourite things in all my best places, like shopping at Stanley Market and Mon Kok and even the night market.’

  ‘Ah, a bargain-hunter,’ he commented teasingly, still watching her face intently.

  She laughed, grateful for the way he was keeping her mind from dwelling too much on the memory of Perth although they were breaking their rules by allowing the conversation to become personal.

  ‘I got into the habit when Babs and I sometimes had to fend for ourselves when Angie was missing and we were afraid of running out of money before my father remembered to let us have some more. These days, though, it’s a challenge—fun. With the salary I’m getting from Rhodes Properties, I could afford to shop in Nathan Road if I wanted to.’

  ‘And you’re happy with the job?’ Simon’s manner was oddly probing.

  ‘Yes, of course, I’ve been very lucky and I’m grateful—to you and Charles.’

  ‘Then why don’t you relax?’ He saw how her face tightened and laughed ironically. ‘No, for some reason you can’t, can you? And you’ve been especially tense these past few days—’

  ‘I could relax if you stopped breaking the rules,’ she asserted tautly, realising just how personal the conversation was now becoming.

  ‘Then you’re free to do so now, because we’re about to ar
rive and it’s back to business as usual,’ he mentioned so coolly that she couldn’t mistake the contemptuous rejection. ‘I was merely filling a few idle minutes in a sociable way, darling, not trying to invade your mind or your space or whatever it is you’re guarding so jealously.’

  Fee was ashamed of herself, aware that she had over-reacted, and she accepted the rebuke in silence, desperately trying to rationalise her tension out of existence. Clearly Simon was no longer interested in her as far as romantic or sexual dalliance went, so she had nothing to worry about.

  Macau had a southern European atmosphere unique in Asia, despite the presence of Buddhist temples and such trees as banyans, and it was the ancient home of a happy blend of cultures.

  The demands of the busy day that followed helped Fee immeasurably as she had no time to dwell on anything save what was required of her in her role as Simon’s assistant, and in the evening the presence of Senhora de Freitas provided a similar distraction. As so often happened, making the attraction of opposites more than a myth, the dynamic Senhor de Freitas had married the quietest of women whose painful shyness was exacerbated by her lack of fluency in English.

  Shy herself, Fee could empathise, finding that the needs of such people, so much greater than her own, had the effect of helping conquer her own shyness, and once the senhora discovered that she adored children she relaxed properly, chattering unselfconsciously about her pre-school pair.

  ‘I’ve always thought I’d also like to have two some day,’ Fee mentioned at one stage and intercepted a cynical glance from Simon that made her skin prickle.

  ‘You were kind to her,’ he commented when the dinner party had broken up and they had returned to their hotel.

  ‘You make it sound as if I was being patronising,’ Fee flared indignantly as they entered a lift. ‘If anyone was, it was you and Senhor de Freitas, looking on so indulgently whenever you paused in your superior, high-powered male conversation. She’s sweet, and I know what it’s like to be shy and feel horribly inadequate in company.’