‘You see, Lisa wasn’t just brilliant. She was always so brave, too. And I’m a complete rabbit. At everything. Can’t catch a ball to save my life. Can’t sit an exam without falling apart. Never really been good at anything. And I get so scared. Total chicken. Lisa’s never scared of anything.
‘When I got into college I could hardly believe it. But I worked hard, at least to begin with. For the first time I wasn’t a pale copy of Lisa. Can you understand that? I was never going to be brilliant but I didn’t mind. I was me.
‘I began to think I might be a children’s librarian. I like books and I seemed to be able to interest children in the project work. I ought to have got that qualification. But then—’
She stopped. If he had prompted her in any way she would not have started again. She knew it. It had happened a thousand times, with friends, with kindly, bewildered therapists, with Tatiana, who was impatient, with her mother, who was frankly scared, with Lisa, who was sure she could put everything right.
But he did not prompt her. He did not ask anything. He just sat there, sipping his drink, and watched her with calm eyes.
Kit swallowed.
‘There was a guy in my class. Sort of leader of the pack. He took me out a few times and then—Well, he had a real girlfriend. She was at another university. Only I hadn’t realised that. By the time I did, I was hooked.’
Still he did not say anything. He went on not saying anything for longer than she would have believed possible.
Kit burst out, ‘It was horrible. I was like a puppy, following him around. It was as if I couldn’t stop myself. He was quite kind to begin with, I suppose, and then—’ She stopped, swallowing. No, she was not quite ready to tell that yet. ‘I suppose he’d just had enough. He told me to stop fawning on him. He said it was gross. I felt—disgusting.’
She had never told anyone that before.
He stayed calm, though, neither exclaiming nor sympathising. Instead he nodded, as if both she and Johnny had behaved in a perfectly reasonable way.
‘It’s all right to be in love with someone who isn’t in love with you, you know,’ he said levelly. ‘It takes time to work that out, of course.’
Kit stared.
His smile was rueful. ‘We’ve all done it. It’s not terminal and it’s not shameful. You just have to accept it. Then let it go.’
She said gropingly, ‘Are you saying that you’ve been in love with someone who didn’t want you?’
He shrugged. ‘Who hasn’t?’
She shook her head. ‘Just about everyone I know.’
‘Then you can’t know them all that well,’ he said drily.
‘But—’
It seemed he felt she had talked about it enough. He stood up.
‘Hungry? That curry seems to be calling me.’
Kit looked up at him. ‘You’ve just said the great tragedy of my life is ordinary.’ She did not know whether to be affronted or to laugh.
He took a plate and put some rice on it.
‘Do you like spicy food?’
Kit was hardly paying attention. ‘Sure.’ She hated it. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
He smiled at her. It was a smile you might give to someone you loved, she thought, blinking.
‘I said the great tragedy of your life was ordinary,’ he repeated obediently. ‘Sorry.’
Kit found that she wanted to laugh after all. It was wonderful.
‘I should think so too,’ she said severely. ‘When did you work that out?’
‘That falling in love with people who don’t love you is normal?’ He thought about it. ‘I think I always knew it.’ He gave a sudden grin. ‘Maybe all guys do. My father’s advice on sex consisted of him staring out of the window and telling me I’d get turned down a lot.’
Kit gave a startled hiccup of laughter.
‘And did you?’ she said curiously. She could not imagine it.
He put his own food on a plate and sat down among his cushions again.
‘Enough,’ he said wryly and began to eat.
Kit nibbled a forkful of rice and curry. She noticed the aromatic warmth on her palate almost absently. She, who never ate anything without pacing herself through every mouthful!
‘And it didn’t hurt?’
‘Yes, of course it did. Hurt like that is part of growing up.’
She digested this in silence.
‘You’re very grown-up, aren’t you?’ she said sadly.
Philip looked up. ‘It happens to all of us.’ He hesitated, his mouth wry. ‘How old are you, as a matter of fact?’
‘Twenty-two.’ She sounded ever so slightly defensive. ‘Does it show?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re an adult,’ he said levelly. ‘If you’d asked me to put an age on you I’d have said anything from seventeen to thirty. But then, I’m not good at ages.’
Kit only heard one word of that. ‘Seventeen!’
So he had thought she was an adolescent! And she had thought he was attracted to her! What a fool she was. What a fool he must have thought she was.
And then he said softly, almost to himself, ‘Water nymphs are always seventeen.’
Arrested, Kit stared at him, forgetting everything but the look in those intense dark eyes. She saw his half-smile and could not interpret it.
She said uncertainly, ‘I don’t understand.’
He met her eyes. He was no longer talking to himself when he said, ‘And wonderful.’
‘What?’
‘You probably don’t remember. I came out to you when you were swimming.’
Kit scanned his face, disbelieving. His smile was crooked.
‘You were so—happy. As if you lived in a different world. I wanted to get into your world so much.’ He smiled. ‘Who am I kidding? I wanted you.’
A strange feeling crept over her, part thrill, part sober. Was he saying he had wanted her? That when she had hugged that to herself she had not been wrong, after all? Kit sat up very straight.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, misinterpreting. ‘I’m not mad. I’d been sitting in a terrible meeting. We went round and round in circles and I knew I couldn’t cut it short. And all the time I was watching you playing out in the lagoon. You looked a complete natural in the water. Like a seal or something, with all that phosphorescence flying around. As soon as the meeting broke up, I came out to you. I told myself I wanted to see if you were real.’
Kit sat very still.
‘Is that why you kissed me?’ she said before she could stop herself.
‘I suppose so.’ He shifted impatiently. For the first time he looked uncomfortable among his cushions.
She put her plate down.
‘Philip—’ It was the first time she had called him by his name.
‘Yes?’
‘Kiss me again,’ said Kit, who did not let men touch her.
His eyes grew intent. Not breaking eye contact, he scrambled to his feet. He kicked the cushions away impatiently. Kit stood up to meet him.
For half a second—less—she thought, I can’t do this. I don’t know how to get close to another human being without freaking out.
And then found it was easy.
His arms were not imprisoning steel. They were hard, sure, but warm, living flesh. And they shook slightly. It was that tremor that turned her heart over.
Murmuring his name, she pulled his head down to her.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS a long, questioning kiss.
His mouth was gentle. Slow and gentle and so confident that it made her head spin. He held her strongly but she felt supported, not imprisoned. He was a stranger but he felt as familiar as her own skin.
Even so, Kit waited for the crippling moment when suffocation would start, as it always did. It did not come. And still he held her, his mouth moving with voluptuous tenderness. With increasing disbelief, she began to realise that the suffocation was gone.
It felt as if an iron bar had dropped from her shoulders. She felt her w
hole body soften and mould itself to his. It was not like anything she had ever felt before. Her breath quickened.
Philip felt the change in her. It was as if she had come alive in his hands. His whole body surged in response.
Then his head took over.
He raised his head. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is not sensible.’
In the crazy candlelight her eyes were enormous. They looked dazed.
‘No,’ she said uncertainly.
But she did not draw away from him. And, as he watched, her lips parted.
He wanted her so badly it was a physical pain. He clenched his jaw, fighting it.
‘Not here,’ he said roughly.
She did not seem to be listening. She put a tentative finger to the place where the muscle jumped in his taut jaw. It was a shy gesture, as if she had not done anything like that before and was not quite sure that he would let her. Yet it was oddly trusting. It nearly broke his resolve.
He stopped her, covering her hand with his. His grip was convulsive, stronger than he intended. He heard her little indrawn breath of pain and was instantly remorseful.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But—’
‘I know. Not here.’ Astonishingly her voice was full of tender laughter, although he knew how shy she was. ‘Well, I’ve got a hideaway cottage just made for lovers down on the beach…’ She did not finish the sentence. She did not need to.
Philip’s fingers tightened round hers until her hand throbbed. This time she did not make any sound at all.
Kit thought, I don’t believe I just said that. She didn’t care. She saw the look in his eyes. She was ready to take any risk to keep him looking at her just like that.
Philip said under his breath, ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’ He wasn’t talking to her. He sounded as if he was in turmoil.
But the look in his eyes didn’t change.
Not taking her eyes from his, Kit took his hand and carried it to her breast. The elderly cotton was no barrier. He could feel the warmth of her flesh, the vulnerable peak of her nipple, as if she were naked. Kit saw his eyes flare as he felt it.
A glorious triumph shot through her. She flung her head back, the golden hair rippling in the candlelight. She saw his eyes watch the play of light over her hair and knew that he was unbearably tempted. She was fiercely glad.
‘Live for today.’ Although they were alone, it was no more than a whisper.
He smiled straight into her eyes. It was dazzling.
‘Is that a challenge?’ He was whispering too.
‘You tell me,’ she teased. ‘I’ve never seduced a man by moonlight before.’
‘You’re doing just fine,’ he said drily. But his breathing was uneven.
‘Am I?’ Where did she get the courage from to flirt like this?
‘No one would guess you haven’t done it before.’
She pulled away from him, pouting a little. ‘So how come you’re still on your feet?’
He touched her eyelid very gently. ‘It’s not easy,’ he said with feeling. ‘But—’
And then there was a crack like a falling tree. Kit gasped, her eyes suddenly alarmed. She shrank closer to him but she was not flirting any more.
‘Your trap seems to have sprung,’ she said, fighting for calm.
Philip heard the flutter in her voice, in spite of the brave face.
‘It’s all right,’ he said reassuringly. ‘It’s either dessert or my friendly neighbourhood freedom fighter. Either way, I can handle it.’
‘Your what?’
‘Freedom fighter,’ said Philip absently.
He disengaged himself and went noiselessly to the temple steps.
Kit padded after him. ‘What do you mean?’ she began hotly. Being angry with him was better than letting cold panic take over, which seemed to be the other option.
Philip held up a hand for silence. He led the way outside and looked cautiously down the cliff side. She followed.
The cage was still on its way down. Two men stood at the bottom, waiting for it. One of them was carrying a brass tray with an Arabic brass coffee pot and a couple of the little thimble cups, she saw. So they were hotel staff, Kit thought. She gave a sigh of relief.
Philip did not relax, though. He nodded as if that was what he was expecting. He said over his shoulder, ‘Are you any good at climbing trees?’
She did not ask why. ‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ He turned back to her. ‘I want you to go and sit up a tree. Don’t make a sound until I tell you.’
‘But—’
‘Just a precaution,’ he said, maddeningly unexcited. ‘Maybe completely unnecessary. Probably is. But humour me. For my peace of mind.’
Kit swallowed. ‘But what’s going to happen? I mean—what about you?’
Philip looked surprised. ‘I can handle this. It’s what I’m good at.’
Kit looked at him and saw that he meant it. He looked completely calm. No—more than that, he looked as if he was about to enjoy himself.
‘Come on. That’s a nice big banyan tree. Up you go.’
His hands on her waist were quite impersonal. Was this the man who had been melting her with his eyes only a few moments ago? Who had shaken under her touch?
Kit shook her head, bewildered. She felt the power in his arms as he held her up until she got a grip on a branch. She swung herself up three or four branches, then crouched against the great comforting trunk as the mechanical cage came closer and closer to the top of the cliff.
Kit took a firm hold of her branch and prepared to sit as still as she ever had in her life.
It seemed to take ages for the cage to clank its way up the side of the cliff. As its dark roof appeared Kit had a moment’s panic, when she wished she could touch Philip. She folded her lips together and held her breath until she was brave again.
Of the two men who got out of the car, only one looked like hotel staff at this distance. The other wore chinos and a loose cotton shirt in a camouflage pattern. He looked tough and not very friendly.
And Philip stood still and waited for him.
‘Good evening, Rafek,’ he said calmly.
The other looked at him, black eyes narrowed menacingly. Kit felt sweat break out along her bare arms.
‘Good evening, Englishman.’
They know each other, she thought. They’ve met before and they know what’s going on here. And I don’t.
‘What do you want, Rafek?’
The other laughed. ‘I said I would come to your talks.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘Here I am.’
‘And always welcome,’ said Philip courteously. ‘But the talks start in the main conference room at eight o’clock tomorrow.’
Talks? What talks?
The intruder put his hands on his hips. ‘Maybe I’d rather talk to you now.’
Philip stood his ground. ‘Why should you want to do that?’ he asked mildly. ‘The timing is hardly ideal.’
Rafek looked round the clearing. ‘Not alone, Englishman?’ It was a jeer.
The waiter with his round brass tray looked worried. He muttered something to Rafek in the guttural local dialect.
‘As soon as I realised that you were on your way up, I got rid of the woman,’ said Philip coolly.
That was her, thought Kit, wincing. The woman. Negligible. Expendable. And she had poured out her heart to this man!
Rafek grinned. ‘What have you done with her?’
Philip shrugged, not answering. ‘Are you here alone, Rafek?’
‘You think my men will come up that path and kidnap you?’ Rafek taunted him.
Philip did not blench. ‘Will they?’ he asked in tones of mild interest.
The guerrilla let out a great belly laugh. ‘I like you, Englishman. No. Not this time. I come to your talks. I want to tell you. Is all.’
‘Oh? Then why are there three men behind me?’ asked Philip neutrally. ‘They are crouching under that liana just off the path.’
This time there was a
distinct pause before the belly laugh. ‘You got eyes in the back of your head?’ said Rafek, plainly put out.
‘No, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’
The waiter looked even more uneasy. Rafek quieted him with a word, then summoned his henchmen out of the shadows. They swaggered forward challengingly. They looked like real villains, thought Kit in her hiding place.
Philip showed no sign of recoil.
‘Good evening,’ he said, polite as ever. And to Rafek, ‘You want these gentlemen to join the talks too?’
Rafek snorted in contempt. ‘No one but me. They do what I say.’
Unseen, Kit shivered. She wished she was standing close to Philip. She wished it with all her heart. Not just because Philip made her feel safe. Because he looked so alone.
The thought shook her to the core. He has always looked alone, since that first night when he kissed me by the lagoon. It was a revelation.
Alone or not, he was handling the situation with masterly cool.
‘Then perhaps you would tell them to go back to the valley floor and wait for us,’ he was suggesting gently.
There was a dangerous pause. Kit held her breath.
He was clearly used to giving orders, she thought, bewildered. He sounded so calm, so courteous. Yet when he asked for something he expected it to be done. You could see it in the way the man Rafek reacted. He bridled but, in the end, he complied.
He jerked his head at the men, sending them in the direction of the path.
‘Not that way,’ said Philip firmly. ‘I would prefer you all to go back the way you came.’
Rafek’s chin came up. ‘You don’t trust me.’
They faced each other, the one fierce and probably armed, the other so tall and controlled. Yet Kit was not surprised when it was Rafek who backed down.
‘Very well.’ With bad grace, he jerked his head at the cage.
As soon as the men had climbed into it the waiter began to winch them down. Not taking his eyes off Rafek, Philip turned his head a little.
‘You can come down. We’re going now,’ he said.
With a little shock Kit realised that he was talking to her. He sounded so indifferent. Surely he should show some concern for her? Surely he should at least call her by her name?
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