by Anna Jacobs
She clung to Jivan’s arm and slipped off her sandal, hissing, ‘Stop scowling at him and look lovingly at me, you idiot! No one would believe you even liked me at the moment.’
He blinked in surprise and supported her while she pretended to tip a pebble out of the sandal. When she slipped it back on, his arms tightened around her and he looked down into her eyes, smiling.
‘Shall we give them a real run for their money? Another kiss would make a nice shot, don’t you think?’
Before she could answer, he bent his head and kissed her, then moved his head a few inches away and stared at her. Then he muttered, ‘Oh, hell!’ and leaned in again to bruise her mouth with a passionate kiss.
She wanted to cry out, to beg him not to kiss her like that when he didn’t mean it, but her cry of protest was still-born, and she couldn’t help kissing him back.
Afraid he would see her feelings reflected in her face, she rested her head against his shoulder. ‘D-don’t let me go! If you do, I’ll fall over. That was a kiss and a half.’
‘I’ll not let you go.’ His voice was a warm soft breath in her ear, so quiet that she wondered afterwards whether she had really heard those words or only imagined them.
The sound of a car engine starting broke the spell. Jessica felt Jivan turn his head, then he said, ‘They’ve gone now. We shall no doubt feature as a devoted couple on the gossip page of that rag. Not as much news in a kiss as in a quarrel, but it’ll fill a column or two and Frenton will manage to make it sound dirty.’
As they started walking, he added, ‘I don’t want him popping up under our feet in Western Australia. We must take great care how we travel there.’ A moment later he stopped and frowned. ‘I’ve got to find out how he got to us so quickly.’
‘Perhaps he had someone following us?’
‘No. Not possible. But perhaps he paid someone to plant an electronic tracing device on our luggage.’
She gaped at him. ‘Is that possible?’
‘Oh, yes. If I can’t find it, we’ll buy new luggage. And … I’m sorry the kiss got a bit out of hand.’
She wasn’t going to pretend. ‘I’m not. I enjoy being kissed by someone I like.’
‘You’re a very attractive woman, Jessica. I hadn’t made allowances for that.’
‘Allowances?’ Her voice came out husky.
‘I’m trying to apologise for my lack of self-control just now.’
‘I just said it was all right.’
For some reason that answer didn’t please him. ‘Do you react so strongly to any kiss, then?’
Already she was tired of treading on eggshells, of considering every word before she spoke. ‘No, I don’t, and it’s extremely rude of you to suggest that. What am I hired as? Palace Virgin and Ice Princess? Well, it’s a part I can’t play. And kissing isn’t exactly a major crime.’
She turned on her heel and started walking briskly towards the house, then paused and tossed a final shot back at him. ‘Do we have to get psycho-analysed every time we touch each other? Why can’t we just enjoy each other’s company, for heaven’s sake, like we did in Melbourne?’
She didn’t turn to look at him again and he didn’t try to catch her up.
Nor did he mention the kiss again.
But she couldn’t forget it.
Louisa saw that she’d got an email from Don Frenton with a file attached. About time too.
She opened the email and saw only a few words: ‘Will ring to discuss attached photos.’
She clicked on the attachment and found three photographs: Jivan holding the hand of some fat, saggy female wearing glasses, Jivan smiling at the same female, and Jivan kissing her.
Louisa growled under her breath. She wasn’t having that. No way. He was coming back to her, whatever it took, and if that female got in her way, she’d teach her a sharp lesson.
Trust Don to use photos like this to torment her. He loved stirring people up.
No doubt he’d want paying again for the rest of the information. If she had to keep paying people at this rate, she’d use up all her money.
On the other hand, by the time she’d finished, she’d be back with Jivan and he had plenty of money, with more rolling in all the time. He’d turned out to be one of those rare authors who make a fortune from their writing. She hadn’t expected that or she’d have been more careful. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on it and live as she deserved.
He’d be grateful to her one day for persisting. She’d make sure of that. She knew how to keep men happy.
And she’d be a hell of a lot more careful who she played around with next time, since it was obviously a sore point with him.
Three days later Jivan put down the phone and looked across at Jessica triumphantly. ‘That’s it! All arranged. Let’s take a holiday before we fly back!’
‘What do you mean, “take a holiday”?’ she demanded. ‘The past three days have felt like a holiday to me. This is a beautiful spot.’
‘Well, I fancy a proper holiday. And you still aren’t looking a hundred per cent. You fall asleep on the balcony each afternoon and you’re in bed by nine o’clock at night.’
For him, it would be a relief to get out of this house. He’d have to make sure they occupied bedrooms at opposite ends of the one in Mandurah. Lying in bed, he could hear her settling to sleep next door. Every single night he had wished she were sleeping with him, filling the emptiness of the bed as she filled the daytime emptiness.
He frowned as he asked himself yet again what there was about her that made the world a brighter place simply because she was with him? He couldn’t explain it. What he’d had with Louisa in the first happy months was a pale shadow of this.
If he made love to Jessica, gave in to temptation, would he be sowing the seeds for an eventual breakdown of their relationship? Because he didn’t want to lose her.
Nothing would make him get married again, but perhaps if he and Jessica didn’t become lovers, they’d be able to stay friends. He’d like that. He really would.
He smiled at her. ‘I’m not taking no for an answer, Jessica. Just put yourself in Uncle Jivan’s hands and pack your things for a quick getaway tomorrow. Be ready to party.’
She looked at him ruefully. ‘I don’t think I’m a party animal. I always have trouble staying awake after ten o’clock and I’m shy with strangers. Where do you want to go?’ She would much rather have gone straight to Western Australia. She had really taken to Mandurah.
‘Where we’re going is a surprise.’ He took her hands and pulled her up from the sun lounger on the balcony. ‘Go and pack, woman, while I finish making the arrangements!’
‘But what about the rest of the furniture – and all those wonderful gourmet frozen meals?’ She grimaced at the thought. They were full of salt and who knew what else, and to her they barely tasted OK. She had insisted on buying some proper food in Sharra Creek. ‘You can’t just dump them in the bin when we leave.’
‘I’ll give them to Gina, then. Will that satisfy you?’
‘Yes. I can’t abide waste.’
‘I’ve noticed. Oh, and we’ll stop off on the way to buy some new suitcases.’
The removal firm was late, which meant that it was noon before they could leave for their holiday. As they waited, Jivan paced up and down with an irritated expression.
Jessica, sitting patiently under a tree in the garden as the last of the things were carried out, laughed as he strode across towards her. ‘No wonder they call you the Bengal Tiger! If you had a tail, you’d be lashing it.’
‘Who calls me that?’
‘The press. I heard them say it at Brisbane airport.’
‘Well, they’re wrong, as usual. My father’s family comes from the north of India, not Bengal.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘Agra is probably the nearest place you’d recognise.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I know the name, but I doubt I’d be able to find it on the map. Though I have seen the red fort
on a travelogue. It must have been very grand in its day.’
‘It’s still amazing. My father took me there once when I was a child. It was the only time my mother let me go to India. We went to the Taj Mahal, too. It was so beautiful it made me shiver.’
He snapped his mouth shut. He had been on the verge of offering to take Jessica there one day. How stupid could you get? He had no intention of visiting his father again. None whatsoever.
As they drove off, Jessica twisted round to stare back at the house, but Jivan kept his eyes on the road ahead.
‘Aren’t you at all sorry to leave that lovely house?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Well, I am. I’d have liked to stay there for longer.’
‘I don’t stay anywhere for long.’
‘You’ve bought the house in Mandurah.’
He shrugged. ‘I can sell it again when I tire of it.’
That made her wonder if he would get rid of her as easily when he tired of her. Would he not look back on their relationship, such as it was, if they split up?
She would never be able to forget him, she was sure. Each day seemed to tie them more tightly together.
Well, it felt like that to her.
Louisa picked up the phone. Who was calling at this hour?
‘Darling, how are you?’
‘Don?’
‘None other.’
‘At last. What do those photos mean?’
He sniggered. ‘Straight to the point, as usual. I’ve seen your ex.’
‘Obviously. Where is he?’
‘Here in Australia. Shacked up with a rather pretty woman.’
There was dead silence at the other end, then, ‘She isn’t all that pretty. Who is she?’
‘Her name’s Jessica Lord and she’s a writer. Jivan can’t keep his hands off her. Want his address? He’s in Australia.’
‘We thought he might be. Whereabouts in Australia?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
She sighed. ‘All right, Don. How much?’
He named a sum.
‘That’s daylight robbery!’
‘I could be persuaded to help you more cheaply next time if I get a ringside seat at any blow-ups between you and Childering. Such scenes sell rather well to certain newspapers.’
‘As long as you keep your sharp tongue off me in any article.’
‘Have I ever bad-mouthed you in public, Louisa?’
‘No. Thank goodness. What the hell are you doing in Australia anyway?’
‘I was offered a rather good short-term contract. It was a chilly winter day with snow forecast and it seemed like a good idea at the time to go somewhere sunny.’
‘Give me your contact details. If I decide to come out to Australia to visit my dear ex-husband and get rid of that new woman of his, I’ll come and visit you as well.’
‘Louisa, is Childering really worth all this hassle?’
‘He is to me. He’s extremely rich now and I want my share. I helped him get started, after all. I should never have agreed to that damned settlement.’
‘You won’t get any more money out of him legally.’
‘Then I’ll have to find another way to get it, won’t I?’
Frenton put the phone down and sat thinking for a while. He’d always thought Louisa too intense; she’d been more obsessed by Childering than she’d wanted people to know.
Money was always useful and Louisa had been paying him well to keep an eye on her ex, but he’d expected her to have moved on from her failed marriage by now.
Oh well. If she blew up in public that’d be another story to sell for a nice fat profit.
He mentally rehearsed a few headlines. Famous novelist’s ex-wife revealed as stalker. No, too long. Obsession and revenge among the glitterati. But you couldn’t really call Childering glitterati, could you? Novelist’s ex-wife stabs him to death.
He shocked himself with that one. Where the hell had the idea come from? Louisa wouldn’t commit murder.
Or would she?
No, surely not. But he’d have to keep an eye on things. He wasn’t getting involved in the heavy stuff.
Fifteen
Jivan took evasive action on their journey again. After a while he pretended to receive a phone call saying a family member was ill. He got the driver to drop them at the Sunshine Coast airport.
Only when he was sure the man had driven away did he go and buy some luggage. They unpacked in a quiet corner and asked a security man where they could dispose of the old suitcases.
Then ‘Mr Simpkins’ hired another car. Jivan even produced a credit card in that name to pay with.
The car was a late model, medium-sized, nothing special about it.
Jessica was about to ask to be put on the insurance as a co-driver, but Jivan gave a quick shake of his head and she put her purse with its row of official cards away.
‘Your name might be recognised,’ he said as they walked away from the counter.
‘No wonder you write thrillers,’ Jessica said in amazement. ‘How did you get that credit card? I hope it’s legal.’
‘Yes, it is. To set it up, I had to go through a lot of red tape and bring the bank and the police in on my problems. I have a driving licence in that name too.’
‘I didn’t realise you’d had your problem officially registered.’
‘Anna insisted I sign up with a security company specialising in protecting celebrities. I doubt Louisa has a clue that they’ve been keeping an eye on her. They’ll alert me if she leaves the UK. I’ve already reported the latest incidents and Frenton turning up at my house to them.’
‘You’re more like Sam Shere than I’d realised.’
‘Am I? Well, sometimes it’s necessary. Money brings problems as well as advantages.’
Once they were clear of the airport, they both relaxed. The road stretched ahead of them like an invitation, the sun bright in a cloudless sky, and suddenly the constraints of the last few days were gone. Within a short time they had joined a stream of traffic heading north.
‘Do you fancy some music?’ At her nod, Jivan reached for the radio controls.
When he began to hum in time to the music from a programme of golden oldies, she began to sing along as well. To her surprise he slipped into the harmonies, his soft baritone matching well with her contralto.
‘That was great!’ she exclaimed when the song ended. ‘I didn’t know you could sing that well.’
‘I was in the school choir. I didn’t dare admit to the other boys how much I enjoyed it.’
A Beatles song came on. ‘One of my favourites,’ she said.
‘Mine too.’
And they were off again, singing at the tops of their voices.
Three songs later they turned off the highway.
‘Caloundra?’ Jessica queried, looking at a road sign. ‘Is that where we’re going?’
‘First stop, yes. If we like it, we’ll stay. If not, we’ll move on.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
The town attracted them so he stopped outside the tourist office. ‘Wait here and I’ll find us somewhere to stay.’
When he came out he drove them to a huge hotel complex. ‘They said this beach resort is the best place to stay and rang through to book us in. It looked very nice in the brochure, I must say.’
It was more than nice – it was gorgeous: exquisite gardens, a swimming pool as big as a lake to one side, and beyond the hotel, the beach, a gentle curve of white sand.
‘Will a two-bedroom suite be all right with you?’
‘Whatever.’ She was starting to worry about how much this was going to cost.
An attendant came and collected their luggage, while another held the door open for them. Jivan dropped the car keys into the woman’s hand without even glancing sideways.
At the reception desk, Jessica stood back and let him do the booking. He didn’t even ask how much the suite cost, but made it plain that he wanted the very best fac
ilities – and anonymity. ‘If anyone finds out I’m here, we’ll leave immediately.’
‘We pride ourselves on our discreet service, sir, though it’ll cost a little more.’
‘That’s all right.’
Within minutes they were being shown to a lift away from the public ones and were given a key to it. When they got out on the top floor, they were escorted to a suite by a woman in a white linen suit with a small hotel logo on the jacket pocket. The man who’d taken the luggage was already waiting for them there.
Jivan strode inside, checked the lounge area and bedrooms, then nodded. ‘Yes, this will be fine.’ He slipped a generous tip to both of them.
When they were alone, Jessica wandered round the luxurious rooms, even more worried now about the price.
‘Is something wrong? Don’t you like it?’
‘Of course I do, Jivan. But I’m just a – a bit stunned by how you behaved.’
‘I booked a room and asked for privacy. What was so unusual about that?’
‘You sailed into the hotel like royalty and within a minute had them all bowing and scraping in front of you. It was amazing to watch.’
He looked startled. ‘Did I really do that?’
‘Mmm. And then, well, you didn’t even ask the price of the room.’
‘Does it matter? Do you want me to find out?’
‘No, of course not. But you must let me pay my share.’
‘Certainly not. This holiday was my suggestion and it’s my treat, a little self-indulgence, if you like.’
‘I don’t intend to sponge off you.’
‘You’re not sponging. Please, Jessica – I’ve not had anyone to share things with for a long time, and – well, it will make me very happy to give you a real holiday.’ He put his arm round her shoulders. ‘Come on! Choose which bedroom you want.’
Later, unpacking her brand new suitcase in a large, airy room with green and white curtains and matching green bedcover, she had to tell herself to calm down. He was being – well, if not loving, definitely warm and friendly. But what made her accept his generosity more willingly was that his air of sadness had completely disappeared. She felt she really was doing him good.
