Alexa Bradstone was the first to alight from the bus, and one's interest was instantly captured by that look of cool elegance and sophistication. Her silky, ash-blonde hair was piled casually on to her head, and her tall, slender body was sheathed in beige slacks with a matching top and a blue silk scarf draped skilfully about her throat to match her incredible eyes. Alexa was an extraordinarily beautiful woman, but Megan had discovered long ago that her beauty was not limited to her outward appearance, as some people imagined.
'Alexa!' Megan stepped forward, and they embraced each other warmly. 'Welcome to Izilwane.'
'It's good to be here.' Alexa was smiling broadly as she shifted her fashionable sunglasses higher on to her head and raised her flawless features to the sun to draw the air deeply and audibly into her lungs. 'Just to smell this tangy bushveld air is enough to revitalise me!'
Revil Bradstone stepped off the bus with a grey, lightweight jacket draped across one arm. He was tall and distinguished despite his casual attire, and the expression on Megan's face ignited a glitter of amusement in the grey eyes that were narrowed against the glare of the sun.
'Hello, Megan,' he greeted her with a hint of friendly mockery in his smile when he reached Alexa's side. 'Surprised to see me?'
'Surprised and delighted, Revil,' she replied, smiling up at the man who had set her on the road to success with her illustrations, and, ignoring the fact that he was the autocratic chairman of Bradstone Promotions, she reached up to plant a welcoming kiss on his lean cheek. 'I'm so glad you managed to accompany Alexa,' she added with her usual sincerity.
'Izilwane will always be a special place for us, and I was determined that nothing was going to stop me accompanying my wife on this trip,' he replied, placing a casual but faintly possessive arm about Alexa's waist, and husband and wife exchanged a glance which, Megan suspected, shut out the rest of the world for a brief moment.
'Ladies and gentlemen!' Bill Hadley raised his voice above the excited chatter of the two lean, clean-cut young men and four leggy girls who now stood grouped together beside the bus. 'I imagine you'd first want to freshen up after your flight,' Bill continued when he had gained their attention. 'The staff are awaiting you at reception, and from there you'll be shown to your respective bungalows, but I hope you'll all join us a little later at the pool area, where we have refreshments laid on for you.'
This news was greeted with an enthusiastic cheer from the group of six models Alexa had selected for this assignment, and they followed eagerly when Bill Hadley turned to lead the way towards the reception area.
'Where's Byron?' Revil questioned Megan as she accompanied them into the air-conditioned interior of the main building.
'Byron has been out in the game park since early this morning with Dr McAdam and Jack Harriman,' she explained, a shadow flitting across her sensitive features when she thought of Chad. 'I don't know what the problem is, but Byron radioed in a short while ago to say that Dr McAdam was collecting a few samples for analysis and that we could expect them back within the hour.'
She imagined Chad would be spending most of the day in the laboratory if he was collecting samples for analysis, and she could only hope that she was correct in this assumption. She felt awkward about having to face him again, and she prayed that, with added time at her disposal, she would be sufficiently composed during their next encounter.
'I'll see Byron later, then,' Revil was saying, and Megan hastily brushed aside her troubled thoughts when she felt Alexa's hand on her arm.
'You'll be joining us later for refreshments up at the pool, won't you, Megan?'
'I'll be there,' Megan assured Alexa when they reached the entrance to her curio shop, 'and Bill Hadley said he'd be free this afternoon to assist us with the final details for the fashion show.'
Alexa nodded and followed her husband across the spacious foyer towards the reception area, while Megan went off to her shop where Dorothy was attending to the purchases of a handful of customers.
'There was a telephone call for Dr McAdam,' Dorothy told her when they were alone. 'It was a woman, but she wouldn't leave her name and telephone number when I told her that the doctor wasn't in his office.'
Megan felt her stomach muscles contract in a nervous spasm. 'Did she leave a message?'
Dorothy nodded her turbaned head and handed Megan a small sheet of paper. 'She said to tell him she would call again at four this afternoon.'
'Please see to it that Dr McAdam receives this message,' Megan instructed, thrusting the piece of paper back at Dorothy as if it was burning her fingers.
Who was this woman who would not leave her name and telephone number where she could be reached? Could it have been Chad's sister? Or was she one of the many women with whom he had amused himself in the past?
Megan did not have time at her disposal to dwell on this subject, but it plagued her at odd moments during the course of the day. It was none of her business, she kept telling herself, but she could not help being curious.
CHAPTER FOUR
The preparations for the fashion show were halted on Good Friday, and Megan chose to spend a leisurely day with her parents in Louisville rather than remain in the camp. It was good to get away, to relax with her family, and it was late that afternoon before she drove back to Izilwane.
The sun was a fiery orb hovering on the western horizon as she parked her Mazda beside her bungalow, and there was a stillness in the air as if nature itself was settling down for the night. A flock of hadeda ibis flew low overhead to roost, their raucous call, ha-ha-ha-dahah, rending the silence, and Megan paused to observe their flight as she stepped from the carport.
A slight breeze stirred the skirt of her cotton frock about her legs and lifted the fine tendrils of hair at her temples, but it was going to be a beautiful night. There were children playing tag across the lawns, their laughter drifting clearly on the silence, and Megan smiled, remembering her own happy childhood in Louisville as she turned to go indoors.
She was rounding the corner of her bungalow when she stopped short, her calmness almost deserting her completely at the sight of Chad leaning against one of the wooden pillars on her stoep with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his grey slacks and his blue shirt unbuttoned almost to his waist. Megan stared at him, torn between the pull of his magnetism and the frantic desire to run, and she was seriously considering the latter when he forestalled her.
'You can't walk away and pretend I'm not here, Megan,' he warned, gauging her feelings in that uncanny way of his, and she stiffened with resentment.
'I wasn't going to,' she almost snapped at him as she set her limbs in motion and climbed the shallow steps on to the stoep, but her heart leapt nervously into her throat when Chad pushed himself away from the pillar to lessen the distance between them.
'The temptation to walk away was there, wasn't it?' he mocked her, and she lowered her gaze as guilt sent a wave of heat rushing into her cheeks.
'Yes, it was.'
'I appreciate your honesty in this instance.'
She risked an upward glance to find him observing her with that cynical, almost contemptuous expression on his lean face, and a new wave of resentment surged through her to leave in its wake an aching, unfamiliar tightness about her heart.
'What do you want with me, Chad?' she sighed, lowering her gaze hastily as she felt the sting of tears against her eyelids and taking her key out of her handbag in the hope that he would take it as a hint that she wanted him to go.
'I want the pleasure of your company at dinner this evening.'
Several alarming possibilities had flashed through her mind, but a formal invitation to dinner had not been one of them, and she almost laughed out loud at herself when she inserted the key in the lock and turned it decisively.
'It's kind of you to invite me,' she said politely, pushing open her door, 'but I've a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, and I would like to have an early night.'
'You have nothing to fear, you know,' he mocked
her, his hand coming down heavily on her shoulder to prevent her from entering her bungalow, and her nerves leapt at his touch as he turned her to face him. 'We'll be dining in the restaurant, Megan, and I'm not in the habit of molesting women in public places.'
'No,' she agreed caustically, remembering the last time they had been alone together. 'Only in private.'
He dropped his hand to his side and smiled twistedly. 'If I'm provoked, yes.'
Megan blushed profusely and cursed herself in silence as she averted her gaze to escape the mockery in his eyes. It had been foolish of her to draw attention to what had occurred between them during their last embarrassing encounter, but she regained her composure swiftly to meet his silent appraisal with a proud tilt of her head. Wouldn't she be tempting the devil if she had dinner with him? she wondered.
'Are you willing to risk it?' he asked intuitively, his glance trailing over her sensitive features and fastening on to that gleam of defiance in her expressive blue eyes.
'Is there a risk involved?' she counter-questioned with a touch of wariness, and his smile deepened with that familiar, stabbing cynicism.
'There's always the risk that you might enjoy yourself.'
'I suppose there is that possibility,' she agreed, tempted against her will, and Chad's glance sharpened on that unwilling smile plucking at the corners of her soft mouth.
'Do I sense a "yes" hovering somewhere behind that statement?'
'You're very persuasive, but…' She hesitated, refusal hovering on the verge of her logical mind, but it was acceptance that finally spilled from her treacherous lips in a shaky, 'Y-Yes.'
'Good!' he said abruptly with a hateful gleam of triumph in his steely eyes. 'Be ready at seven-thirty,' he added. 'I have a table booked, and you have my word that I shan't keep you out late.'
Megan stared after him until he entered his bungalow, and she had a nasty feeling that she was stepping foolishly into unknown and dangerous territory, but it was too late now to change her mind.
The restaurant was filled to capacity that Friday evening with visitors who had come from all over southern Africa to spend the Easter holidays in the game park. The log-cabin decor with its low-hanging lights like old-fashioned lanterns created a friendly, relaxed atmosphere, and diners were seldom encouraged to dress in anything other than casual attire.
Alexa and Revil Bradstone were seated at a table in a secluded corner. Megan had noticed them when she had entered the restaurant with Chad, and she had also glimpsed a fleeting look of concern on Alexa's face when they had greeted each other, but it was forgotten in the process of ordering a meal.
'Shall we drink to an enjoyable evening?' Chad suggested, raising his glass of wine to Megan when the steward had left their table, and the soft lighting had a mellowing effect on the harsh angles and planes of his striking features.
'Yes, I'll drink to that.'
She raised her glass to his before she brought it to her lips to take a steadying sip of the dry white wine she always preferred. She did not think that she would be nervous seated across the table from Chad in a crowded restaurant, but she was. She was aware of him in every possible way; aware of the beige lightweight jacket which accentuated the width of his powerful shoulders, and aware of that aura of masculine charm which was having such a devastating effect on her pulse-rate.
She tried to focus her attention on her drink, on the buzz of conversation around them, on anything and anyone other than Chad, but she looked up eventually as if her eyes had been drawn by a magnet to find him observing her quizzically across the small, square table. Why was he looking at her like that? she wondered, and then she realised that he was expecting her to reply to something he had said.
'I'm sorry, you were saying?' she rushed into speech, guilt staining her cheeks a deep pink as she gestured apologetically.
'I was asking you why you don't have your meals here in the restaurant.'
His eyes mocked and chastised her simultaneously for her inattentiveness, and she could feel that embarrassing warmth deepening in her cheeks. 'I like to prepare a meal for myself in the evenings,' she explained. 'It helps me to relax and unwind after a busy day.'
His glance trailed over her, taking in the sheen of the honey-gold hair framing her fine-boned features, and the creamy smoothness of her shoulders beneath the pencil-thin straps of her amber-coloured dress, but a nervous little pulse fluttered wildly at the base of her throat as his eyes lingered for an unnecessary length of time where the thrust of her small, firm breasts was clearly visible beneath the silky folds of her dress. It felt as if his eyes were scorching her through the material, touching her, and her body responded in the most embarrassing way.
'You're a very attractive young woman, Megan.'
'No, I'm not!' she brushed off his statement with a nervous laugh to ease that strange tension between them. 'My eyes are too big, my nose is too small, and I would have liked to be a couple of centimetres taller.'
'Don't underrate your physical appeal, but, now that you mention it, you certainly appear to be the odd one out in a family of tall people. You may have fair hair and blue eyes like your father, but that's where the resemblance ends.' Chad's stern mouth twitched with the first real sign of amusement. 'Are you a throwback or something?'
'Or something,' she replied, smiling at his faintly bewildered expression while she sipped at her wine, and she could feel herself relaxing as she explained. 'I'm not a blood relative, Chad. Vivien and Peter O'Brien adopted me when I was ten.'
His dark brows drew together in a frown above his narrowed eyes. 'No one has mentioned this to me before.'
'No one would.' Megan was not sure why she had confided in him, but his reaction amused her. 'I was accepted into the family fourteen years ago, and that has always been that.'
The waiter appeared at their table with their food, and that particular conversation was shelved, but Megan had not quite finished the grilled sole and spicy rice she had ordered when she looked up to find Chad observing her intently.
'Tell me more about yourself, Megan,' he ordered, using his fork to spear the last morsel of steak on his plate and popping it into his mouth.
'There's nothing much to tell.'
'Maybe not,' he agreed readily, 'but you can't tell me you're adopted and then leave me to wonder about your own parents.'
'There was a car accident,' she told him reluctantly. 'I sustained a few injuries, but both my parents were killed.'
She knew somehow that Chad would not be satisfied until he had heard it all, and she went on to explain briefly what had led up to that holiday in Louisville which had given rise to her adoption.
'You must have been a very unhappy little girl,' he commented with an unfamiliar gravity in his voice when she lapsed into silence.
'I was unhappy after the accident and during that brief stay in the orphanage, but these past fourteen years have been the happiest years of my life.' She lapsed into a contemplative silence and was surprised to discover how much she had actually told him about herself. 'The history of my life isn't a subject I'm in the habit of selecting as a topic for conversation, and I can't think why I'm discussing it with someone I barely know,' she added, vaguely annoyed with herself.
'We're no longer strangers, Megan.'
Chad's compelling glance drew hers across the candlelit table, and her heart skipped a nervous beat, but the waiter chose that moment to return to their table, and he created a welcome diversion while he removed their empty plates and served their coffee.
'I believe it's your turn to tell me about yourself,' Megan prompted when they were alone again. 'Did you have a happy childhood?'
'I imagine I did.' The smile curving his mouth did not reach his eyes. 'Children are adaptable to change.'
'It depends on what they have to adapt to,' she argued gently, sensing an undercurrent of bitterness in his flippant remark.
She watched him in silence while he swallowed down a mouthful of black coffee, and she was wondering wh
ether she was going to be left in ignorance when he leaned back in his chair and smiled that twisted, mirthless smile which was beginning to tug at her compassionate heart.
'I was four years old when my mother ran out on us. She went to South America with her lover, and she died there a few months later when their small aircraft crashed into the Andes.' His voice was dispassionate, like an announcer reading the news, but the clenching and unclenching of his hand on the table was a visible contradiction. 'My father never married again, and I can understand why. Women are fickle where their emotions are concerned, and if a man wants loyalty and commitment he would do better to get himself a dog. Women can ruin a man unless he stays one jump ahead of them, and I vowed a long time ago that no woman would be given the opportunity to make of me the emotional wreck my father used to be.'
Megan felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. His tone of voice had sharpened with icy contempt, chilling her and sending an involuntary shiver through her. 'I'm well aware of the fact that there are women who possess the characteristics you've mentioned,' she tried to reason calmly, 'but not all women are like that.'
'I have yet to meet a woman who isn't.'
Chad was once again the cold-eyed, cynical-mouthed man she had seen a year ago across the length of Alexa Bradstone's terrace, and it was clear that his opinion of women had been nurtured since childhood. Any bridges Megan might attempt to build would simply lead to nowhere, and knowing that there was nothing she could say, or do, to prove him wrong filled her with a disquieting helplessness.
She sipped at her coffee and switched to a subject which she hoped would inject a more pleasant note into their conversation, 'I believe you have a sister.'
'That's correct.' His expression hardened unexpectedly, and his eyes were narrowed to slits that flickered with anger in the flame of the candle between them. 'Matty is two years my senior, and she's yet another prime example of emotional instability in women. She's been married and divorced three times, and at the present moment she's living with a man of whom, she tells me, she's already tiring.'
Bridge to Nowhere Page 6
