by Jane Corrie
As the taxi sped through the busy town of Nassau, and out towards the Beach Hotel, Cassy wondered if the celebration dinner was going to be held at their hotel, for the taxi was definitely heading that way, but if so, there had been no need for the pair of them to pick her up, nor for Sylvia's remarks concerning Greg not wanting to drive, so it had to be somewhere else, somewhere along the coast, she mused, as she caught sight of twinkling lights out at sea as they passed the imposing front entrance of the Beach Hotel and continued along a coastal road.
Cassy did notice that they met no other traffic, and had not done so since they had passed the Beach Hotel, and she had a feeling that they were on private land. This feeling was soon replaced by certainty, when she saw that they were now entering a long drive surrounded by well-kept gardens. It could have been some exclusive country club of course, but the feeling that it was a private residence persisted in Cassy's mind. 'I hope it's not going to be a big party,' she commented to Sylvia, who was apparently lost in her own rosy world as she had not spoken for a few minutes.
Sylvia jerked out of her musings, and gave Cassy an apologetic look before she answered quickly, 'It's Justin's home,' adding hastily at Cassy's outraged gasp, `At least, one of his homes.'
`I see,' said Cassy, right-lipped, and glared at Sylvia.
`You knew I wouldn't have come if I'd known where we were going,' she said accusingly. 'I've a good mind to ask the driver to take me straight back to the hotel,' she added in a low vibrant voice.
Sylvia caught her arm. 'Please, Cassy, give him a chance,' she pleaded. 'It was his idea that we had dinner here, and that can only mean that he wants to apologise to you. Greg made me tell him the truth, and when he suggested that we had dinner with him— well, I could hardly refuse, could I?'
Cassy looked at her, and some of her fury dispersed; it wasn't Sylvia's fault that things had turned out the way they had. If only she had known their destination earlier, she would have worn something more appropriate, the skirt and blouse for instance, that Sylvia had spoken so disparagingly of. Oh, how she wished she had obeyed her instincts and changed before Sylvia had arrived! To turn up looking like this looked a little like great expectations, and Justin was bound to see it that way, but there was nothing. Cassy could do about it now.
Justin was waiting for them by the arched doorway of a Spanish-style villa, dressed immaculately in evening wear, and Cassy's heart turned over as he approached them. She found it hard to meet his eyes, not quite knowing what to expect. His glance, and it was a glance, and nothing more, made her take a swift inward breath, since there was nothing apologetic in his manner, and certainly nothing to suggest that there was, or had been, anything between them.
Almost, thought Cassy, as if he was meeting her for the first time, and she was someone some friends of his had brought along to make the number up. There was
also something a little condescending in his manner, that hurt her far more than a deliberate cold-shoulder attitude would have done.
It was as well for Cassy that Greg and Sylvia were in high spirits, and she was able to sit back and listen to the gay bantering going on around her. Sylvia was too much in love, and too preoccupied with her Greg, to notice that Cassy was being subjected to a cool dissecting appraisal whenever Justin looked her way, which he did fairly often, Cassy noted with high sensitivity.
When Greg had finished his digression on how he had won the tournament, not boasting, but purely for the benefit of an interested fellow golfer, the conversation turned to more personal issues, making Cassy wish uncomfortably that she had never left her hotel room.
Now that the tournament had finished, Greg would be off home again, but there were a lot of 'Ifs' and 'we'll sees' in the answers given, and a swift loving look in Sylvia's direction, that told its own story.
The dinner was excellent, at least, according to Sylvia and Greg, but for Cassy it was a case of getting through each course, all of which tasted like sawdust in her very dry mouth. For goodness' sake, why had Sylvia brought her here? She wasn't wanted, not by the fastidious man who sat next to her at the table, seeing to her wants as a nephew might see to the welfare of an extremely tiring aunt that he'd be glad to see the back of after the meal. If he felt that way, Cassy would have been only too happy to comply, but something told her he was not finished with her yet. In all probability he was saving up a lecture to be delivered as soon as they were alone.
That no such opportunity would present itself was a forlorn hope. Later they would stroll in the grounds, and Sylvia and Greg would wander off in the manner lovers usually did, leaving the apprehensive Cassy alone with Justin. She dropped her dessert spoon on the thought, and felt the heat rise up in her cheeks as she swiftly apologised for her clumsiness. Would this wretched dinner ever end? she thought miserably.
The dinner ended, but not Cassy's ordeal, for as far as she could see she had the worst part to come, and her steps dragged as she followed Sylvia out of the dining room and into a sumptuously furnished lounge for coffee and liqueurs.
All that Cassy had so far seen of the villa confirmed Sylvia's words that Justin Pride was a man of considerable fortune. Seated in one of the velvet-upholstered armchairs, Cassy tried not to look around her, but it was not easy, since Sylvia, having no such restriction placed upon her, openly admired the rich furnishings, and commented upon the gold-framed miniature paintings on the walls, all undoubtedly originals.
`Isn't that beautiful, Greg?' exclaimed Sylvia on spotting yet another treasure, this time an exquisite delicately engraved rose bowl displayed in a glass cabinet opposite them.
Cassy could have slapped Sylvia for her persistence in highlighting Justin's possessions, with so little regard to her feelings.
`Venetian?' queried Greg, after giving the bowl closer inspection.
Justin nodded. 'One of the finer pieces, I think,' he murmured.
Cassy, watching him and not looking at the rose bowl, saw the swift look he gave her before he answered. If she had been looking at the rose bowl, she would not have seen his glance rest on her before he replied to Greg's question. Was that why he had wanted her to come? she wondered. To show her that he was a man of substantial wealth, and how foolish she had been in turning him down? Was he trying to tell her she could have done very well for herself if she had agreed to his proposition?
Cassy's wondering eyes rested on him as he stood beside Greg and Sylvia holding the rose bowl in his long lean hands, and turning it slightly so that it caught the light and shimmered in a galaxy of rose-tinted rays. But it didn't make sense, she argued silently to herself as she watched him gently, almost reverently replace the bowl back into the cabinet. It might have made sense if Sylvia had not made her confession, but not now.
Coffee was then served to them by the same silent but very efficient manservant who had waited upon them at dinner, and sipping the Tia Maria that Justin had pressed upon them, Cassy realised with a sinking heart that they were about to embark upon the time that she most dreaded.
With a feeling that she was about to be thrown to the lions she heard Justin suggest a walk in the grounds, and heard Greg and Sylvia' s almost relieved acceptance, understandable of course from their point of view, but pure panic from Cassy's !
Of course there had to be a moon, Cassy thought sourly, as they wandered down the terraces separated by rose-covered trellises, at least Cassy presumed they
were roses purely by their rich scent, and although the light was good enough to show the way through the ornate garden, it was not good enough to identify the various blossoms whose perfumed aroma wafted around them.
Walking beside Justin, with Greg and Sylvia bringing up the rear, Cassy felt she was taking part in a play —a play she had suddenly been asked to perform in without proper preparation. She knew parts of it, but not others, and was not sure how good an actress she would turn out to be when the final curtain was lowered. She would either be a star or a failure. If Justin loved her, she would be a star—a star
as bright as the ones now shirting down upon them—but if he didn't, then she would vanish into obscurity.
All these thoughts went through her mind as she heard the questions put to Justin by Sylvia and Greg, such as how large the property was, and was that the Beach Hotel that they could see in the distance? All this she heard, yet none of it filtered through her haze of speculation. She only knew that she loved this man who walked beside her. Loved his deep well-modulated voice, loved the proud way he held his head as she watched him turn to answer yet another question put to him by Greg.
She was glad that she had worn this dress, she thought, as her fingers touched the soft folds of the material that whispered as she walked. It would always remind her of this night, of the bright moon and the dancing stars that attended it, the perfumed garden. Did Justin care for her? she wondered. He had been attracted, that much was certain. Had he wanted her there to prove to her that he was serious in his inter-
est in her? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought; it could account for quite a lot of things that she hadn't been able to understand. Was he afraid that she would turn him down again, and was that why he had kept his distance with her all evening? Try me and see, her heart whispered silently to him.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts, she did not realise that Greg and Sylvia were no longer following them and came to with a start at Justin's smooth, 'We seem to be alone.'
There had been a triumphant note in his voice that Cassy took full note of. One could not say there was anything lover like in the tone, yet he swung round to face her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her in a manner that was both possessive and punishing.
`It's a pity to waste such a beautiful night,' he whispered against her mouth, 'with such an entrancing maiden, and I have no intention of letting such an occasion pass.' His lips roamed her wide forehead, and Cassy closed her eyes, but opened them wide at his next remark. 'Particularly as we shall not meet again. A pity, I feel, but you did rather underestimate me, didn't you?'
Cassy blinked and came out of the euphoric state that she had allowed herself to fall into, and as his lips descended once more to claim hers, she twisted out of his arms and stood looking at him. She could have run away from him, but she needed to know why— why he had hurt her so, and what he had meant by saying that she had underestimated him.
He smiled at her, and she caught the glint of his white teeth. He held out his arms to her in a mocking gesture. 'Come on, little spitfire, there's more to you
than meets the eye. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy my kissing you—your lips positively begged for more.'
Cassy remained standing where she was; once again he had made her feel cheap, and she wondered how she could ever have thought that she loved him. It was hardly gentlemanly of him to boast of his conquest, and still less gentlemanly of him to remind her that she had been a fool.
`Oh, well,' he said with a note of mock sorrow in his voice, suppose we'd better go back to the villa. The young lovers will no doubt have pledged themselves to one another by now and will wonder where we've got to.'
With head held high, Cassy accompanied him back to the villa. Whatever he was now accusing her of she was not to know, it seemed, but it didn't matter now. Nothing mattered, except that she catch the first available plane back to the U.K. the next day. Back to sanity, since she was now convinced that these idyllic islands possessed some mysterious power that overrode all the normal reasoning processes.
Of Sylvia and Greg, she dared not think Had they, too, been caught up in this nebulous fairyland? Well, at least she and Sylvia could console one another when sanity reigned once more, and at this thought she found herself having to stifle an hysterical chuckle.
There was still no sign of Sylvia and Greg when they got back to the villa, and Justin led Cassy into the lounge, and indicating that she should sit down, asked her with studious politeness what she would care to drink.
Cassy shook her head, answering in a low voice, 'Nothing, thank you,' then found she was totally un-
able to look at him and concentrated her gaze on one of the miniature paintings on the wall.
Following her glance, Justin mentioned the artist's name, but it meant nothing to Cassy, as she was not very well informed on the artistic front. Her total lack of interest seemed to infuriate Justin. 'It's worth quite a lot of money,' he told her, but I'm not concerned with material worth. Happily, I can afford to indulge myself.'
Cassy did look at him then; so she had been right in her earlier musings. He had wanted her there simply to show her that he was a wealthy man, and to rub in the fact that she had been stupid to turn him down. `Bully for you!' she said in a light airy voice, thinking that she ought to have done better than that, but she was lost for words in the face of such blatant tactics.
Her light, unembellished answer infuriated him far more than a long bitter reproach on her part on his method of reprisal, for it was reprisal, Cassy thought, as she saw the fire in his eyes and a muscle jerk at the corner of his firmly set mouth. It was nice, she thought grimly, to be able to get a little of her own back.
She was not, however, allowed much time in which to savour her satisfaction, for he abruptly changed the conversation by commenting on her dress.
`It suits you,' he said in a silky voice, and his eyes narrowed as he surveyed its flimsy folds. 'Expensive, I'd say,' he went on smoothly. 'Part of the deal, was it?' he asked.
Cassy stared at him in puzzlement. What did he mean? What deal?
`You know, you should have stuck with Reggie,' he
commented idly. 'He might be past it himself, but he's still got some influential friends.'
Cassy was totally lost and looked it, and wished Sylvia and Greg would put in an appearance. She appeared to have lost part of the script in what was turning out to be the sort of play where you were left to make your own conclusions on the ending, and how she longed for the ending!
She glanced back at him, and saw that he was apparently waiting for an answer. 'I'll think about it,' she said lightly, matching his conversational tone, and darting a quick glance towards the open French windows that led directly on to the terrace.
`You do that,' he ground out, 'and while you're thinking about it, you might also consider another aspect—such as why you thought I'd be fool enough to fall for that story Sylvia came up with this morning.'
Cassy's eyes opened wide at this; so he hadn't believed her—no wonder he had treated her with such disregard !
`I might easily,' he went on grimly, 'have been hoodwinked, except for one rather obvious fact, and that was that no attempt had been made to straighten things out before. And that was odd, to say the least,' he added harshly.
Cassy still hadn't caught the trend of his thoughts, but afterwards she realised that she ought to have done. 'Before?' she echoed dully. 'Before what?'
`Before you became aware of my, shall we say, affluence?' he said meaningly.
No longer perplexed, Cassy gasped as the full implication of his meaning hit her. 'You think that I-
that we—that Sylvia and I ...' She couldn't go on but stood staring at him wide-eyed.
i I said,' he replied sardonically, 'you should have
stuck with Reggie.'
Cassy's hands clenched into small fists and she leapt out of her chair as if propelled. She had had enough of this detestable man's company to last her a lifetime ! think I'll go and see what's holding Sylvia and Greg up,' she said haughtily, 'if you'll excuse me,' and began to walk towards the french windows, telling herself that they had had quite long enough to settle their affairs, lovers or no.
'You'll damned well leave when I'm good and ready!' Justin grated as he caught her arm in a steely grip and swung her round to face him. 'Let's have the gloves off, shall we?'
Cassy's right arm came up to slap his arrogant face so close to hers, but she was not allowed even this satisfaction as he caught her wrist before she had made contact with him and twisted her arm behind her back,
forcing her struggling body to lie pliant against his hard frame, for his grip was painful.
'Shall I tell you what I think? I he said softly, his mouth only inches away from Cassy's bent head. I think you did a deal with Sylvia.'
Cassy could only shake her head wearily, for which she received a stronger grip and felt her cheek touch the soft material of his dinner jacket. 'You needed her co-operation, didn't you?' he went on inexorably. 'You'd decided to change horses in mid-stream, hadn't you? I think that's an apt description, don't you?' he purred. 'You promised to turn her father down if she'd help you to gain a richer prize--that's what it
amounts to, doesn't it?' he said harshly. His fingers caressed her back and rested on the top of the dress, and she felt him grip the soft material hard in his steely fingers. 'She bought this for you, didn't she— as part of the bargain! You wanted to look good, didn't you?'
Petrified, Cassy felt his grip on the material tighten. `Well, it didn't work,' he said savagely. 'You'll have no further need of such finery, it's hardly the type of dress you'd pick up in a village store, is it?'
`Oh, dear, have we come back at an inopportune moment?' queried Sylvia, amused. 'Shall we go out again, and come back later?'
As Justin's arms fell from her, Cassy moved swiftly away from his side thanking her lucky stars that Sylvia and Greg had arrived just in time to prevent him from tearing the dress to shreds. As it was, she wasn't sure how much damage had been done, for she had felt the material give way under his ruthless hands. `No, please, it's all right,' she managed to get out, not caring if her voice did sound as panic-stricken as she felt.
`Well,' said Sylvia triumphantly, oblivious to the strained atmosphere between Justin and Cassy, and concerned only with her future. 'You may congratulate us ! We're engaged! ' she cried.
Cassy swallowed the impulse to shout back at them that they must be off their heads, and held out a hand that trembled slightly to Sylvia. 'Congratulations, dear,' she managed to murmur.
