‘I see,’ she said after a long silence, and felt a tear tremble on her lashes.
‘Do you?’ he said with infinite patience as he smudged the tear from her cheek. ‘Do you really know what I am? I honestly believe I’m the kind of man who perhaps won’t ever be ready to be tied down to one woman. I have a restlessness in my soul that I can’t still. And a sort of cynicism in my heart about so many things, women particularly, that I hate but I can’t shake. That’s the true me, Sasha.’
She stared up at him and caught her breath at the sudden longing that flooded her. A longing that grew almost unbearable as she searched every inch of his face and saw, as if it was written plainly, the disillusionment, the pain and the soul-weariness that was normally so effectively masked. A desperate longing to be able to smooth it away somehow. And her heart tightened as she realised she would dearly love to be able run Veronica through with a sharp knife for contributing to it all.
She swallowed and moistened her lips. ‘I do understand, Heath,’ she said barely audibly. ‘I’m sorry I…’
‘Don’t!’ he .said violently and placed his fingers on her lips. ‘You don’t have to apologise to me. If anything, it should be the other way around. Blossom,’ he hesitated and then drew her into his arms and said into her hair, ‘you will meet the right man some day and then you’ll be able to look back at this and laugh.’ He held her tighter as a tremor shook her body. ‘Just give it time,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t rush into anything—you’ve got so much time on your side. And then when you do find someone who loves you as much as you love him, that will be the very best way to be taught and to teach. Believe me.’ He hugged her close and then stood her out at arm’s length. ‘I know that sounds rather like—do as I say, not as I do, coming from me,’ he said with a faint grin as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, ‘but for you, I believe it.’
Sasha closed her eyes and called on every ounce of will-power she possessed. ‘Well, if I’m not allowed to apologise can I just say thank you?’ she asked, her voice husky and uneven, and she prayed as she spoke that she would have the strength to open her eyes and not cry.
Afterwards, she never knew how she managed it, but she did—even to smile slightly before she turned at the look of compassion in his eyes and walked to her bedroom. Where the control she had achieved slipped drastically so that she flung herself on to her bed and cried herself to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
It was a beautiful morning that greeted Sasha’s tired, reddened eyes when she finally woke. All traces of last night’s storm had disappeared leaving the world clean and fragrant. And the sun glittered and reflected on the harbour waters so that they sparkled and danced beneath a blue, blue sky and the sails of the Opera House looked breathtakingly white and pure in the bright morning light.
Which is more than I can say for myself, Sasha thought as she inspected herself in the mirror. I certainly don’t sparkle and I feel as if I’ve been under a steamroller. They say love agrees with you, adds a bloom, but they must not mean unrequited love.
She flinched and bit her lip, staring at her reflection minutely as if it would yield some secret she couldn’t grasp. Is it really love? she wondered. Or is it just an adolescent crush as he thinks? But if that’s so, why do I have this terrible feeling as if something’s been torn out of me?
Perhaps, an inner voice prompted, because until last night, when you gave yourself away like some naive schoolgirl, you had a subconscious idea that one day, by some miracle, it wouldn’t be unrequited love? But now you know it can never be.
‘Perhaps you’re right, Sasha,’ she told her reflection in the glass. ‘And if I’d never said anything or done anything,’ she shivered suddenly as she remembered how she had begged Heath to kiss her, ‘perhaps you might have found that this feeling just faded away like an old daydream as time went by.’
But now, instead, she mused, I shall be horribly embarrassed whenever I think of Heath, let alone see him, despite what he said to me last night. How could I not, whether it’s love or whatever? she asked herself.
She shivered again as this thought brought her slap bang up against the fact that she was going to have to do just that very shortly. See Heath and drive home with him and go on seeing him from time to time.
Despite her misgivings, however, as she sat across the breakfast table from him, she thought she was managing it all very well. True, she was more subdued than usual, she acknowledged, and she had no doubt that he understood why. And indeed he was rather that way himself. But that he wasn’t going to accept this state of affairs didn’t occur to her until just after their hands had brushed accidentally over the marmalade and she had coloured faintly and unknowingly looked a picture of misery.
‘Hell,’ he said abruptly. ‘This is no good.’ And as she looked at him warily he reached for the phone and dialled his mother’s number.
But if she had started out looking at him warily, by the time he had finished speaking into the phone and then calmly replaced it on his parent’s agonised squawks, Sasha’s eyes were wide and incredulous.
‘What did you do that for, Heath?’ she stammered.
‘Several reasons,’ he said with a grimace. ‘One, it’s going to a beautiful weekend, two, she works you like a slave anyway and one weekend without you might just make her realise it, three, you look as if you need a good tonic. And four, I can’t bear the thought of us parting like this, Sasha, with you looking so guilty and unhappy and uncomfortable. Because I really do treasure your friendship, and this just might be the way to get it back. Otherwise I’ll be plagued by the thought that you’re going to spend the rest of your life avoiding me.’
His words were light enough, but he watched her keenly as he spoke and didn’t miss the chord his words struck. ‘I thought so,’ he said wryly. ‘But that’s not really the Sasha I know. She’s made of tougher stuff, and if you don’t believe me go and ask a certain mob of people who happened to cross swords with her last night.’
She couldn’t help laughing a little then. ‘Oh, Heath,’ she said, ‘don’t remind me! But what will we do?’ she asked bewilderedly.
‘Sasha,’ he said solidly, ‘we’ll do what we both probably haven’t had time to do for years. I know I haven’t anyway. We’ll enjoy this fair city of Sydney as it’s crying out to be enjoyed on days like these. We’ll take a hydrofoil across the harbour to Manly for a swim. Then we’ll come back in a more stately manner on the ferry to Rose Bay and have an enormous seafood lunch on the deck in the sunshine with the harbour at our feet. Then we might relax for a while before we ‘ he stopped as if struck by a sudden thought, ‘well, I might just keep that part as a surprise,’ he said, and grinned wickedly at her expectant face. ‘Then tomorrow we’ll pack a picnic lunch and cross the harbour again and go to the Zoo. You know, I always loved Taronga Park. I’ve just realised I’ve been wanting to go back there,’ he shrugged, and grinned ruefully, ‘not so much to see the animals but to lie in the grass under the trees up above the harbour and just absorb the peace and the beauty of it. What do you say to those ideas?’
Sasha took a deep breath and another of those warnings flashed in her brain like a sign on a highway. Stop! Go back! But then she thought of how he had looked last night and she wondered if two days of this kind of relaxation wouldn’t help to ease his burdens just a little.
‘I think it sounds perfect,’ she said seriously, and made the most conscious effort she ever had to relax herself. She wrinkled her nose and said, ‘But I don’t know what you’ve got against the animals at Taronga Park. I think they’re lovely. So you better be prepared to be dragged around to see a few of them! Shall we … leave the dishes for Mrs Morris and just go?’ she added mischievously. ‘I’d adore to have a swim as soon as possible. And I bet I can get ready before you!’ She jumped up and flashed him a teasing grin, then skipped out of the room as if she had not a care in the world.
She didn’t see the look of admiration that came to his eyes as he
watched her go.
Sasha sat back and patted her stomach. They were sitting on the deck of Sydney’s most famous seafood restaurant, Doyle’s, with the waters of Rose Bay lapping at their feet almost. They both wore shorts and T-shirts and had salt-streaked hair and burnt noses.
‘Now that’s what I call superb,’ she said as she eyed the shell from which she had spooned the last of her Lobster Thermidor. ‘Do you think . ..?’
‘No,’ Heath said definitely. ‘If you’re thinking of a second helping, don’t, Funny-face, because you might burst.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of a second lobster,’ she protested indignantly. Then she rolled her eyes and deepened her voice. ‘But I haf to confess, Herr Townsend, I was wondering about those lovely-looking cheesecakes?’ she finished in a high voice and as if she had a plum in her mouth.
He laughed at her. ‘And I haf to confess, Fraulein Derwent,’ he said, mimicking her, ‘that I can’t help wondering if one day you don’t end up fat.’
‘You’re right,’ she said with a sigh, and reached for her wine glass. ‘But I’m not really a glutton. These just happen to be two of my very favourite dishes, you see.’
‘I do see,’ he said with a grin and a signal to the waitress.
And Sasha started to laugh as he ordered two cheesecakes. ‘Now go on, admit it,’ she said delightedly. ‘You couldn’t resist them either!’
‘I most certainly could,’ he said haughtily. ‘It was just that on second thoughts, I couldn’t imagine you getting fat. You have too much energy for one thing.’
‘Thanks for them kind words,’ she said placidly as she slid her spoon into the dessert. ‘I can now eat this with a clear conscience. But talking of energy, who was it who forced me to swim and surf until I nearly dropped? Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but you’re a hard man to keep up with.’
‘Ah, but you see you don’t know what I’ve got planned for this afternoon, Blossom.’
‘What?’ she asked with a comically fearful look on her face.
‘Well, I fully intend to …’ He looked at her with his eyes sparkling wickedly.
‘Go on!’
‘Drop on to the settee as soon as I get home and sleep for hours. And I reckon you should take a nap too,’ he said casually. ‘You want to be fresh for tonight.’
She thought for a moment. ‘What is on tonight?’
‘Wait and see.’ He smiled at her tantalisingly.
‘Oh, please, Heath!’
But he wouldn’t be budged. ‘Content yourself with the knowledge that you’ll enjoy it. And you were right,’ he added with a grin, ‘I couldn’t resist the cheesecakes either. Come on, shall we walk home?’
‘Not on your life!’ she told him. ‘Unless you fancy carrying me?’
Sasha slept deeply and dreamlessly for hours. In fact it was the tinkling of the door chimes that woke them both as the shadows were lengthening outside, and if it hadn’t been for daylight saving it, would have been dark already.
It was the building’s commissionaire who stood at the door with several striped boxes in his hands.
‘They come much earlier, Mr Townsend, like I told you, but I just haven’t had a chance to bring ‘em up. Burst pipe in number twenty-two,’ he added confidingly.
Heath tipped him and turned to Sasha, who was standing behind him now. ‘For you,’ he said.
‘Is this the surprise?’ she asked, still faintly flushed from sleep.
‘Well, part of it,’ he said. ‘Actually I ordered them yesterday, but it took some time for them to find exactly what I wanted. It was,’ he hesitated, ‘meant to be a bonus for helping me out at such short notice yesterday. However, it will do very well for tonight. Open them.’
She hesitated too because she had an inkling that he was watching her very carefully to see how she took the reference to yesterday—traumatic yesterday. She also had an inkling of what was in the boxes, and for a second her mind screamed a protest because it brought back all the agony she had gone through one way and another yesterday. But then she thought, I’m stronger than that, surely? And I set out to achieve something in these two days, didn’t I?
She looked up. ‘The suspense is killing me,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ll open them in the lounge.’
And despite her reservations, which she was battening down so firmly, the contents of the boxes quite took her breath away, and she gasped as she drew out the most exquisite black cocktail dress, black satin evening shoes and a tiny velvet-covered box. Her mother’s evening bag was in another packet.
‘Oh, Heath! It’s beautiful,’ she said genuinely as she held the dress up. ‘Thank you so much. What’s this?’ she asked huskily as she fingered the velvet box.
‘Open it,’ he said quietly, still watching her closely.
The box contained a set of delicate gold earrings. Sasha blinked and swallowed as she looked at them.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I love them.’ She swallowed again. ‘But you’ve overestimated my overtime, I think. And my bag! I forgot about it,’ she said with grimace.
‘I’m beginning to think I might have under…’ He stopped abruptly and she spoke quickly.
‘Anyway, I’m glad you did. But please tell me before I burst with curiosity—what is this mysterious event tonight?’
Heath sat back and said with an odd glint in his eyes. ‘Is it or is it not true that you’re a Gilbert and Sullivan freak, Sasha?’
‘You know I am,’ she said with a grin, and took a deep breath. ‘I am the very model of a modern major gen-er-al,’ she sang.
He winced laughingly. ‘I wonder how many times I’ve heard you sing that in the shower! Perhaps, after tonight, you’ll be able to increase your repertoire.’
‘Do you mean … you don’t mean …?’
‘I do. The Mikado at the Opera House tonight. I’ve read that it’s an excellent production.’
‘Oh, Heath!’ Sasha jumped up and quite spontaneously flung her arms round his neck. ‘Oh thank you! You’re an absolute honey.’ She kissed him unselfconsciously and he lifted her off her feet and twirled her through the air.
‘So are you,’ he said laughingly. ‘I’m pleased you’re pleased.’ He put her down, “and then the unaffected moment changed subtly. She thought later it was the feel of his hands on her waist, on her skin where her blouse had ridden up. But it wasn’t only that, she realised. It was a combination of so many things. His long, powerful legs beneath his canvas shorts. The smooth tanned skin of his shoulders and the ease with which he had lifted her so that she felt as light as thistledown. But most of all, just because he was Heath, the most beautiful tiger in the jungle, and the nicest, she thought with despair.
They stood like that, seemingly both unable to make the move to break free. And her breath came a little faster as she saw the expression in his dark blue eyes change in the instant before he lowered his eyelids to mask it.
Then she was free and he turned away to say casually, ‘Hey, we haven’t got much time. And I’d like to bet I can get ready before you this time!’
It did take Sasha longer to get ready. But not only because she had more to do, as much as because her hands seemed to be unsure of themselves and her whole body invaded by an inner trembling as she thought of how Heath had looked at her for that brief instant. As a man, not a friend, not in a brotherly way at all. Just as a man assessing a woman and finding her desirable.
‘Perhaps I imagined it,’ she-told herself as she stepped out of the shower. ‘And even if I didn’t, what difference does it make? It doesn’t change anything, Sasha; Besides, I must have imagined it.’
The black dress fitted perfectly and managed to combine femininity and chic. And her skin did look pearly beneath it, as he had predicted, beneath the black lace that covered her shoulders and arms right down to the wrists from above the heart-shaped bodice that was formed by the taffeta lining. The skirt was full—a cloud of lace and taffeta about her legs encased in sheer Christian Dior tights, he had thought of everyt
hing—and the shoes were the very essence of elegance, with sling-backs, narrow toes and slender, very high heels.
She looked at herself critically in the mirror and then decided to put her hair up so that she could show off her new earrings. That took a bit of extra time, too, but when she finally stood in front of Heath, it was piled smoothly on top of her head with a few wisps coaxed around her face.
‘I feel like a different person,’ she said lightly as she accepted his inspection, having once more done battle with her nerves and her curious, foolish fancies. And suppressed the thrill that the sight of him, tall and sleek in a black dinner suit with the dark gold of his hair tamed, had brought her.
She turned round slowly so that her skirt flared out and added mischievously, ‘I’m also taller, and I think I should warn you, this new Sasha Derwent expects to be treated with much deference tonight. In other words,’ she added as she came back to face him and see the slow smile creeping into his eyes, ‘I shall be very offended if you call me Funny-face or Blossom or tell me I’ll get fat. Because I feel like a princess!’ she finished triumphantly, but added wryly, ‘thanks to you.’
‘You look like one,’ said Heath very seriously but with his lips twitching. He held out his arm to her grandly. ‘May I have the honour, Miss Derwent, of escorting you to the Opera House? Or perhaps I should call you Ma’am?’
‘Just call me Sasha,’ she said, grinning as she accepted his arm and they swept towards the door. ‘Oh, Heath, I’m really looking forward to this!’
‘So am I. Hang on. What about your glasses? Or isn’t it done for princesses to be seen out with glasses?’
‘I’ve got my lenses on … in, whatever’s the right term. I can see from here to … Bondi,’ she said grandly and untruthfully. ‘
Perhaps Love Page 4
