by Nicola West
'Yes. . . .' she said vaguely, her eyes fixed on the tall figure getting out of the car, catching her breath at the way the sun shone on his burnished hair. 'Yes, I'm still here. . . . I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you said.'
'I asked if you could come up some time this week,' the voice repeated. 'Give it a go. No use talking about interviews when you're so far away, and you sound like the right person for us. What d'you say?'
Flair watched like a rabbit transfixed by a stoat as Luke swung easily across the paving towards the office. Her heart seemed to fill her throat. Why had he come? Was he looking for her? Panic-stricken, she tried to put an end to the conversation.
'Yes—yes, that'll be fine,' she heard herself say. 'I'll come right away. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days, should it? I can stop over in Perth tonight and come on up tomorrow. Yes, I'll be prepared to stay, a month at least. Yes, all right. I'll see you then.'
The office door was thrust open as she put down the phone. She stood rigid behind the. desk as Luke shouldered his way in. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the back of the chair, and she felt suddenly sick with apprehension.
Luke looked bigger than ever. He filled the doorway, seeming almost to swell as he saw her. His eyes, as bright and hard as diamonds, bored into her. His face was like granite.
'And just what was all that about?' he demanded. 'You've done it, have you? Broken young Lance's heart—and now you're looking for some new conquest. Well? Am I right?'
Flair's legs shook and she sat down suddenly at the desk. She ought to have remembered the flimsy walls of the office that allowed everything to be heard clearly from just outside. She stared up at Luke, remembering the last time she had seen him, the way he had left her almost naked and crying on his bed. A flush rose into her face at the memory, and she turned away sharply, but he was beside her at once, his fingers turning her chin none too gently, so that she had to look into his eyes.
'I reckoned you might have come to your senses by now,' he growled. 'Thought maybe we could talk. How about it, Flair?'
'There's nothing to talk about,' she managed, biting her lip.
'Nothing? That's not the way I see it. The way it strikes me, we've got one hell of a lot to talk about, and we might as well do it now as any other time.' He glanced around the shabby little office. 'But not here. Come on—we're going for a walk on the beach. It'll be pretty quiet this time of day.'
His fingers gripping her arm cruelly, he dragged Flair out of the office. She realised that he would drag her all the way if necessary and, once outside, stopped struggling and walked beside him as if she were willing. His fingers loosened a little but remained where they were; he wasn't going to risk her escaping, she realised as he led her along the beach.
'Now,' he said at last, stopping where a group of jagged rocks shielded them from the buildings. 'Now we can talk.'
'I told you,' Flair said shakily, 'there's nothing to talk about.'
'And I say there is!' His mouth was grim and hard. He obviously hadn't come to repeat his proposal. Not that she had ever thought he had—with a clear field for nearly three weeks, Roxanne would have made very sure by now that Luke was well and truly hers. Flair blinked back sudden tears and turned her head to look out at the restless sea.
'It's about your father, Flair,' Luke said then, surprising her. She looked at him, a tiny frown crinkling her brow.
'Dad? What about him?'
'What about him? What about thinking about him?' Luke exclaimed in exasperation. 'Have you given him one single thought since you came down here to play fast and loose with young Lance --'
'I didn't!'
'—have you bothered that empty little head of yours for one moment, have you --'
'Now look here!' Flair blazed. 'Just who are you anyway to talk about my father like that? He's my father, not yours! He knows just why I'm here and he approves, so what's it got to do with you anyway? You don't own me or him, much as you may think you do. Why, you don't even employ me any more— or him, come to that—so what business is it of yours? You broke his contract—don't tell me you lie awake at nights worrying about him.'
Luke's fingers closed round her upper arms, digging into the soft flesh so that she almost cried out. His eyes glowed with anger as he brought his face close to hers and the furious colour mounted in his cheeks. Flair caught her breath as he pulled her close and she felt the hardness of his chest against her soft breasts. She squirmed against him, trying to escape, but felt excitement rising in spite of herself at the contact. Luke's hand left her arm, moving possessively across her back and down to press closely against the curves of her flank, and Flair felt her head begin to swim. From Luke's quickened breathing, she could tell that the pressure of their bodies against each other was affecting him too. She closed her eyes, felt her lips part and waited for his kiss, willing it to come; let her free hand creep up to his neck, twining her fingers in the hair that curled at the nape. She felt Luke's hands moving rhythmically up and down her thighs, stroking the bare skin under her short skirt and she clung to him, moving herself sensuously against him, longing for the fulfilment she had yearned for ever since their first meeting.
With a sudden groan that seemed to be torn from his very soul, Luke broke away, leaving her stunned and disbelieving. She looked up through tear-dewed lashes, and he took her firmly by the arm and sat her down on a smooth rock.
'We can't let this happen, Flair,' he told her roughly, his voice harsh with thwarted desire. 'Not with things as they are. . . . Look, I came to sort out this business about your father. Whatever else happens between us, I can't have you thinking the way you do about that. Just what did Jeff tell you about the contract?'
'That it had been broken,' she answered, bewildered by his insistence. 'Why? Have you changed your mind? Oh, Luke --'
'No, I haven't,' he cut in. 'The contracts are still off. But you've got it wrong --'
'Oh yes? Just what is there to get wrong? It all seems perfectly simple to me.' Flair scrambled to her feet and stood glaring down at him. 'And don't pretend you came all this way just to sort things out with me! You're too much the big tycoon to waste time on things like that!'
'I'm on my way to Albany, yes,' Luke admitted, but she let him go no further.
'Well, since you want it straight, here it is! Dad told me exactly what had happened about the contracts—I asked him and he told me it was true. There's nothing more to talk about as far as that's concerned. Not until you change your mind, anyway. And until then, I don't want to see you or speak to you again. I don't know why you even bothered to come here.' As she spoke, she backed away out of his reach, but Luke didn't seem to want to touch her now. For a moment she stared down at him, taking in the details of his appearance, the strength implicit in the lines of his body as he sat against the boulders, looking almost as if he were made of the same intractable stuff as the rock itself. Desire swept over her again and she turned angrily away, furious that even now she could still want him. 'Why can't you just go away and leave me alone?' she asked dully.
Luke stood up, uncoiling himself with the grace of a panther. He looked gravely down at her and said: 'You mean that, Flair? You know about your father and why the contracts were cancelled?'
'Oh, for goodness' sake why keep on about it?' she raged, wanted him to have done with talking, to take her in his arms again and this time finish what he'd so often started, even if it were for the only time in their lives. . . . 'Yes, I know, yes, yes, yes! What more do you want? What does it matter to you anyway?' She pushed her hair out of her eyes and stared up at him.
Luke watched her intently for a moment, his eyes questioning, unbelieving. Then a strange look, almost of disgust, distorted his rugged features and twisted the finely-chiselled lips. Bewildered and afraid, Flair backed away. She saw contempt dawn in his eyes, darkening them to a cold grey; saw scorn flick across his mouth as he spoke at last.
'Then I was right. You really are a cold-hearted little bitch.
I told myself I was wrong—told myself I'd give you one more chance, come down here on my way to Albany and have one last talk with you. But you're not interested, are you, Flair? You don't really care about your father at all. You don't even think about him eating his heart out for you up there in Perth, wondering if --'
'Dad and I understand each other,' Flair interrupted, white with fury. 'He knew I had to get away. He knows I'm around if he needs me—but he doesn't, not really. Not after all these years. He's got used to being on his own.'
'Oh, there's no point talking to you,' Luke exclaimed contemptuously. 'You're interested in nothing but your own rotten skin. And your precious career, of course. Nobody else really means a thing to you, do they?' He looked her up and down and Flair flinched at the disgust in his eyes. 'You're even scared to get too involved in sex, much as your body wants it, because it just might get you in deeper than you can handle. Well, you do exactly what you've planned, Flair Pattison. Get on with your career. Don't let another person stand in your way. Because maybe you're right—maybe it is the only way you'll make a success of life. I know one thing—you're hell on wheels to anyone who happens to be unlucky enough to love you. I just hope that you'll see there aren't any more!'
Flair watched, too stricken to speak, as he turned aside and climbed over the rocks. He strode away along the beach and she knew that this was the last time; that he was striding out of her life for ever. Up till now, she realised, she had always had some hope that things would miraculously straighten themselves out, that somehow she and Luke would be able to meet without strain, without differences, and come together in harmony and love. But now that hope was gone. It faded and died like a starved plant as Luke walked along the beach, without looking back, and disappeared.
He had gone by the time Flair returned to the motel, and she was thankful. Lance and Dougie didn't mention him, though she knew they must have a good idea as to what had happened. Quietly, as if there were nothing else that mattered to her, Flair told them about the job in Geraldton, and they listened and nodded.
'Might be the best thing for you,' said Dougie, his bright gnome's eyes fixed on her face. 'Get a completely different scene, different people, you'd be surprised at the difference it makes. Sorry you couldn't stop around here, though.'
Flair avoided Lance's eyes. The way she felt now, she could easily break down and promise to stay, to marry him, to spend her life here. And it wouldn't work, she knew that. She had to resist the impulse to take the comfort she knew Lance could offer. She turned away.
'I'm sorry, too, Dougie. But there it is. You'll soon settle back and forget I was ever here.'
'I won't forget,' said Lance when she was ready to go. 'I won't ever forget, Flair. And what I said before still holds—if you ever need a friend. . . .'
'Oh, Lance!' Flair felt her eyes fill with tears. Why couldn't Luke be like this, affectionate, undemanding, loving? But if he was, she thought wryly, he wouldn't be Luke. And she probably wouldn't be in love with him. ...
'It's best this way,' she said, and reached up to give Lance a kiss. 'I know it wouldn't work out between us—but I'll always want you as a friend, Lance, if you'll have me.'
He lifted her case into the car and slammed the hatchback door. 'Well, you know where I am, then.' He came round and touched her cheek gently. 'Take care of yourself, Flair. And get things sorted out with Luke, if you can. He's a fine man. If I have to lose you, I couldn't lose you to a better guy.'
Chance would be a fine thing, Flair thought, but she didn't say so. Time would show Lance that there was no way she and Luke would be getting together again. She climbed into the driving seat and leaned out to give Dougie a farewell kiss as he came out into the bright sunshine.
And then the motel was behind her. Yet another stage of her life in Australia was over. She turned on to the now familiar highway and headed for Perth, for an overnight stop with her father before going on to begin the next, in the northerly town of Geraldton.
But Jeff wasn't there when she arrived at the house in Yokine. Surprised, a little uneasy, she paced through the rooms. They were all as usual; a little tidier than she remembered, perhaps, but Jeff wasn't an untidy man anyway. The house seemed empty, and she chided herself for having fancies. Just because he wasn't home didn't mean there was anything wrong, did it? Couldn't a man go out for the evening occasionally? But there was something that told her this was more than an evening out. Well then, couldn't he stay away for a day or two? Maybe there was a woman in his life, someone he hadn't told Flair about. Was there any reason why there shouldn't be? Any reason why a man like Jeff, not yet old, still attractive, shouldn't find love?
Scolding herself for her irrational fears, Flair made herself an omelette and some coffee and went to bed. She had an early start tomorrow and if Jeff didn't come home soon she'd have to leave without seeing him. She hoped it wouldn't be that way; but though she lay awake for a while, she was too exhausted, both from emotion and from her long day, to fight sleep for long, and soon her eyes closed and she slipped effortlessly into dreams.
It was early when she woke, disappointed to find that her father was still not home. She stifled thoughts of accidents and, telling herself again that he must be staying with friends, showered, dressed and made toast before taking some orange juice from the fridge and wandering out into the sunlit garden to eat her breakfast. Perhaps Jeff would arrive before she had to leave.
But once in the garden, by the pool, her thoughts returned inevitably to Luke. Their first meeting had been here, she recalled, glancing at the still blue water where she had been floating when he had first appeared. Even then she had been aware of his almost animal magnetism, the sheer blatant maleness that surrounded him like an aura. She remembered the way he had stood there, casual yet alert like a great cat, the way he had moved with the suddenness and grace of a panther when he had lifted her from the water; the strength and power she had sensed in his body as he held her close.
Waves of desire flowed over her even now as she recalled those moments. And there had been others too; that morning on Blue Island, when she had woken to find herself in his bed. The day he had caught her in the streaming rain under the tingle trees and told her that he loved her and wanted to marry her . . . the angry scene in his bedroom at the hotel, when he had stripped her, rousing her senses to such a pitch that she could only beg for his love; the delicious contact on the beach at Augusta, just before he walked for ever out of her life. . . .
She lay back in the lounger, feeling the sun hot on her closed eyelids as tears squeezed between them and trickled slowly down her cheeks. It would have been better if she had never met Luke Seager, she thought unhappily. Nothing but heartache and sorrow had come of it. He had revealed to her a desire and love that she had never suspected. She would have been better off never knowing about it, better off remaining single-minded, thinking only of her career, following the path her mother had mapped out for her. Susan was right, she told herself sadly. Love got in the way of living. It distracted you and even if it made you happy for a while—and some of those moments with Luke would remain for ever cherished in her heart—it left you cold and lonely in the end.
With a sudden decisive movement, Flair swung herself from the lounger and went back into the house. From now on, she would start life anew. She would stop thinking of Luke Seager, stop hoping that somehow things would come right for them, stop yearning for his kisses. From now on, she would put him out of her mind as he had walked out of her life. She would take up her own life again, where she had left off when he had appeared in her heart. From this moment, she was once again Flair Pattison, career girl.
Leaving a note for her father to tell him where she was going, Flair set off for her new destination. Geraldton was over three hundred miles north of Perth, approaching the tropics, but the highway, leading directly there from the city, was straight and virtually empty. She drove steadily, meeting only the occasional truck or station wagon, and as she drove the beauty
of the bush began once again to soak into her and calm her fevered thoughts. How could anyone describe Australia as barren? she wondered as she drove past stretches of plain carpeted brilliantly with the crimson colours of desert peas, scarlet banksia and red-flowered gums, the glowing golds of native buttercups, black kangaroo paw and bull banksia, and the speedwell blue of leschenaultia, all tumbled together in glorious confusion. At other points the taller species fringed the road; slender eucalyptus with their grey trunks and silvery-green leaves, wattles and the strange little 'black boys'— stumpy trunks with a mop of fibrous, grass-like 'hair' on top, which Flair had been told took centuries to grow and were as hard as iron.
Now and then she passed farms, their buildings set well back from the road, often with a dam nearby filled with cool water collected during the winter. Once or twice she came upon a settlement, consisting usually of a fuel station and a restaurant and little else. She was glad to stop and fill her tanks, taking the opportunity for a long cool drink in the air-conditioned cafe as well. The air was growing noticeably hotter as she drove north, and the sun beat down more strongly than she had yet experienced, particularly when she was in the cooler region south of Perth.
It was late afternoon before she finally arrived in Geraldton. Thankfully, she drove down the wide main street, taking pleasure in the well laid out little port and the signs of prosperity that showed in attractively-designed houses and neat hotels. She had noticed too the productive farming area that lay around the town, and she saw with delight the fishing boats and the Abrolhos Islands that lay offshore like jewels in the sparkling sea.
Yes, she decided as she drew up at last outside the hotel, this was the place where she could start her life anew. This was the place where she could find happiness at last.
She stepped out of the car, conscious of the stiffness that comes with a long drive. A tiny flutter of nervousness stirred in her stomach, as she wondered what her new employer would be like. Not another Luke Seager, she hoped! She didn't think she could cope with that.
