Fugitive Wife

by Miranda Lee

  'I would have thought such ladies would enjoy a night with Alan on that romantic old tub.'

  'A lot do.'

  'But not you...?'

  'No. Not with Alan, anyway. He's not my type at all.' She couldn't help thinking how she would have loved spending a night on board The Zephyr with Gerard when they'd first been married and seemingly so in love. What a honeymoon spot it would have made, much better than the five-star hotels he'd taken her to all over the world. They could have lain together under the stars, soft breezes playing on their naked bodies, the gently rocking water a rhythmic backdrop to their lovemaking.

  'With anyone else?' Gareth asked, speculation in his voice.

  'Anyone else?' she repeated, her mind still fuzzy as it was jerked out of the lovely, yet distressing dream.

  'Is there another man in your life now?' Gareth asked 'Someone you spend romantic nights with?'

  'No,' she said, her voice sharp.

  'No one?' he persisted, scepticism in the question. 'In six months?'

  'I doubt there'll be anyone in six years! I loved Gerard very much. He shattered me with his betrayal of that love.'

  'You hate him now, don't you?'

  She gritted her teeth. 'I despise him.'

  'I see.'

  'I doubt you do, Gareth,' she bit out. 'You know nothing of my marriage. Or me.'

  'Then why don't you tell me all about both?' he said in a soothingly sympathetic voice. 'Come on.' He nodded his head across the road to where a smart grey four-wheel drive was parked under the shade of a tree. 'My chariot awaits. Let's go get ourselves a cool drink and some food. But I'll have to rely upon you to steer me somewhere where the food is decent. I don't know Broome too well yet. I only arrived yesterday.' '

  'And you came out on our cruise the very first night?' she asked as they crossed the road.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, then reached to open the passenger door for her. 'I didn't want to waste any time.'

  Leah nodded and climbed up into the grey upholstered seat, automatically clicking on the seat-belt while he closed the door and strode around the front

  When he climbed in behind the wheel and shut the car door, Leah's nostrils were once again assailed by that sandalwood cologne, the one which reminded her so forcibly of Gerard. Every pore and nerve-ending in her body sprang to attention again. Another of those disquieting niggles about Gareth's true identity resurfaced.

  This time she could not remain quiet.

  'Gareth,' she said abruptly.

  Her tone must have communicated something, for his head jerked up from where he'd been bending forwards slightly to start the engine. 'What?'

  'I...that cologne you wear...'

  He frowned. 'What about it?'

  'It...it's the same one Gerard wears.'

  All of a sudden she wished he wasn't wearing sunglasses. She would have liked to see the expression in his eyes.

  He sank back slowly against the seat.

  'What are you saying?' he said tautly. 'That you still think I might be Gerard?'

  'I don't know what I'm saying.'

  'Look, I've been using that same cologne for years. Obviously, so has Gerard. Why is that such a problem?'

  'It's very expensive,' Leah pointed out

  'I'm well aware of that. Our mother gave us some on our twenty-first birthday and I guess we both got hooked. Once you get used to the best, it's hard to go back to the cheaper varieties. Still, if it bothers you, I'll stop using it.'

  'Would you mind?'

  'No. But it won't change the way I look, Leah. I'll still look the same as Gerard.'

  'I realise that. But there's something about your smelling the same which I find...upsetting.'

  She'd almost said arousing. Had very definitely thought it. She wasn't handling the familiar fragrance any better than she had the previous night.

  'In that case I definitely won't wear it any more,' Gareth pronounced firmly. 'I'll buy some new stuff this very afternoon.'

  She glanced across at him as he started the engine, feeling reassured about his identity once more but no less curious over Gareth, the man.

  'I presume you're here in Broome on a holiday?' she asked.

  'Uh-huh.'

  'Why Broome?'

  He shrugged. 'I was told it was a great place to get away from it all. I've been working too hard for too many years. I needed a break, and the time to reassess my life.'

  So both brothers were workaholics, to a degree, Leah mused. But at least Gareth had realised it before it was too late.

  'What is it you do, Gareth?'

  'I'm an architect.'

  Yes, that fitted, she thought. A creative and well-thought-of profession. Not as high profile or gung-ho as being a property developer, but Leah had no doubt that Gareth was a winner in his own field. He had that aura of confidence and decisiveness which went with success.

  But he would be more of a quiet achiever, whereas Gerard wanted the world to know of his success. Both brothers built things. But Gareth would care about the style of building he created and the people who lived there. Gerard's focus had always been on the almighty dollar, she thought bitterly.

  'Anything wrong with my being an architect?' he asked as he angled the car out onto the road and headed towards the centre of town.

  'Not at all. I'm impressed. Do you work for a company, or have your own?'

  'I have my own. I like to do things my way.'

  She nodded. 'Yes. That's what I thought. You have that air about you.'

  'What air?'

  'The air of being a boss.'

  'Ah...'

  She wasn't sure if he was pleased by her saying that or not.

  'Where is your company located? she asked. 'Over here in Western Australia?'

  'No. In Brisbane.'

  'In Brisbane!' she exclaimed, shocked. 'You've been in Brisbane all this time!'

  'Yes.'

  Leah shook her head. 'I'll never understand Gerard. How on earth did he think he could keep you a secret indefinitely? Brisbane's not that big. Frankly, I don't understand why he kept you a secret at all!'

  'The Gerard you married has no time for things past, Leah. I'm his past.'

  Leah sighed. Gareth was so right. Gerard lived for the present, and for what he called 'progress'. He'd often said the past was not worth thinking about. He never countenanced regrets or recriminations. He always went forward. He was the most pragmatic man, not indulging in sentiment or sentimentality at all.

  Except, of course, when it suited his purpose, she realised ruefully. He had not been above bringing her flowers, when he wanted to butter her up or smooth over something he might have done to upset her.

  Not that he had transgressed often during the nine months of their seemingly idyllic marriage. A couple of times he'd left unexpectedly on business and had not telephoned till he was in the air and on his way. She'd been rather put out by his presumption that she wouldn't mind, that she would understand his business sometimes came first.

  She'd tried to, but probably hadn't been able to keep the dismay out of her voice. Each time he'd come home with his arms filled with red roses and his pocket containing a very expensive piece of jewellery.

  As a blushing and besotted new bride, she'd accepted his gestures in good faith, moved by his assertions that he'd missed her like mad and loved her even more after their separation. No matter how irritated or put-out she'd been while he was away, it had never taken him long to wind himself around her heart...and around her body.

  Oh, how smugly sure of her he'd been! Give the silly little fool some flowers, and she'll melt in my arms.

  The memory sickened her now.

  'Penny for your thoughts?'

  Leah's head whipped up to stare at Gareth, startling him with her wide-eyed look.

  'What is it?' he said worriedly. 'What did I say?'

  'That...that thing about a penny for my thoughts. That's what Gerard used to say to me. In just that way...'

  'Di
d he?'

  She continued to stare at him, her head spinning as she struggled to ease that sudden awful fear that this wasn't some long-lost twin brother sitting there but Gerard himself!

  The furrows on his forehead deepened. 'Look, Leah, there's going to be lots of things about me that remind you of Gerard,' he said, reading her mind quite accurately. 'We're identical. I can't help that. But I'm not the man you married, Leah. I swear that to you on my mother's life.'

  His mother's life. That was a pretty strong vow.

  There was the scar too, don't forget, she reminded herself.

  Leah sighed her relief. God, but she'd been really rattled there for a moment. Her stomach still felt squeamish.

  'Which way?' Gareth asked, slowing as he approached an intersection.

  'Turn right at the next street,' she directed him. 'Then second on the left. Park anywhere you can find a spot down that street.'

  The town centre of Broome was pretty basic, consisting of two parallel streets lined by an array of small shops. A new air-conditioned supermarket had been built down in one far corner, and there was another larger shopping mall on the outskirts of town, but both had taken time to gain clientele, the locals not liking change.

  And who could blame them? Leah thought as she glanced around her. Broome had its own character and very individual charm, a mixture of tropical remoteness and the Australian outback, with palm trees, red dirt and a simple architecture all of its own. No tall brick buildings in Broome. Nearly everything was made of wood, or corrugated iron, and hopefully cyclone-proof.

  The developers were beginning to move in, however, seeing dollars signs with the increase in tourism. More land was being chopped up into housing blocks and more roads were being curbed and guttered. Leah could understand why the long-standing residents resented the changes. In twenty years' time Broome would be unrecognisable.

  Progress, she decided, was not always in the interests of the community. Leah was glad now that Gerard's plans for Hidden Bay had fallen through. Her brothers were happy and content as they were. They didn't need to be successful and rich. Successful and rich did not necessarily equate with happiness, she now appreciated.

  'What a pretty little place Broome is,' Gareth remarked as he slid the Pajero into an angled spot under a convenient tree. 'Let's hope it stays that way. This do?' he asked, throwing his passenger a questioning glance.

  They would have to walk a little way, but it would be nice to step back into a cool vehicle.

  'Perfect,' Leah praised, and smiled at him.

  'What's the smile for?'

  'For being you,' she said.

  'For being me?'

  'Yes. For not looking around you and seeing nothing but developmental dollar signs.'

  'Ah...Gerard again...'

  The edge in his voice evoked guilt in Leah. 'I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep comparing you two.'

  'It's quite all right,' he said. 'Compare all you like. From what I've heard so far, I'm confident I'll come out on top. Shall we go?'

  She guided him to a small sidewalk cafe which wasn't flash but which served great fish and chips. And fantastic milkshakes.

  Gareth smiled when she told him what she wanted.

  'Order the same for me, then,' came his easygoing reply. 'I'm game. Here's twenty dollars. That should cover it.'

  Leah left him sitting at one of the outdoor tables while she went inside to order, thinking that this would never have happened with Gerard. For one thing, Gerard only ate at a la carte restaurants—even for lunch—and he always ordered. She'd once been very impressed with his knowledge of wine and food. He could order from a French menu like a native Parisian.

  That type of thing no longer impressed her. It was shallow. Without any real value. The only qualities which impressed her in a man these days were honesty. And integrity.

  She turned and glanced through the front window of the cafe at Gareth, happily stretched out in a white plastic chair, his handsome head shaded by a garishly striped beach umbrella.

  Instinct told her Gareth had integrity. And honesty. On top of that, he had the same face and body which still enslaved her senses.

  She stared at him and felt that tell-tale quickening once more.

  What a shame she hadn't met him first...

  'Here you are, miss,' the man behind the counter said at last. 'I've put it all on a tray for you.'

  'Thanks.'

  Gareth sat forward as she carried the tray towards the table, taking his sunglasses off as he did so.

  Her step faltered when his gaze swept over her from her toes up. There was no denying the male admiration in his glittering blue eyes this time. They lingered momentarily on her bare midriff before lifting to the confined swell of her breasts beneath the tight pink top.

  Panic ripped through Leah when she felt those breasts prickle beneath his indisputably sexual scrutiny. She almost tripped on a rough bit of pavement when she started forward again, the malted milks rocking ominously from side to side.

  'Got them!' Gareth said, jumping up and sweeping the silver containers into safe hands.

  Leah laughed, though shakily. 'You almost had chocolate milk in your lap then.'

  Without looking at him again, she balanced the tray on the edge of the table and set everything out quite efficiently and with no further mishap, swiftly unwrapping the cutlery which was wrapped in paper serviettes, putting out the salt, vinegar and sauce, before finally placing the plates of fish and chips between the knives and forks.

  'You did that very well,' he complimented on sitting down in his place.

  She handed him his change, then swung away to put the tray on a spare table.

  'I've had plenty of practice with serving up food.' She sat down and shook out her serviette. 'Aside from my more recent activities, I was the chief cook and bottlewasher for my brothers for years.'

  'You must tell me about your life, Leah. Before you met Gerard,' he added drily.

  She did, happy to find distraction from the panic she'd been trying to damp down since Gareth had looked at her the way he had. But dear heaven...

  'Do you regret leaving Hidden Bay?' he asked when she'd finished telling him her life story, right up to her marriage.

  'Every day.'

  'Why didn't you go back there after you left Gerard?'

  'I couldn't. Gerard would have found me.'

  Gareth frowned. 'This is the part I don't understand, Leah.'

  'No,' she said grimly. 'And I doubt you ever will. So don't ask me about it!'

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again in a reluctant acceptance of her stance. 'Let's move on to your marriage. Were you happy to begin with?'

  'Very happy. I thought Gerard loved me. I was prepared to make sacrifices for that love.'

  'Sacrifices?' he asked in puzzled tones. 'What kind of sacrifices? You would have had everything a woman desired, surely.'

  Leah could only shake her head at him. 'Spoken like a man. Do you honestly think that all a woman wants from a marriage is material things?1

  'I would have thought they'd go a long way.'

  'Then you'd be wrong. Oh, I won't deny a woman likes a certain degree of security, but that's more for the children she hopes to have. I gave up a lot to marry Gerard, more than I should have. I missed my life at Hidden Bay terribly. Missed the boat. Missed the sea. Missed my brothers.

  'Frankly, I'm not sure that even if I hadn't overheard Gerard saying those dreadful things I would have stayed happy with him. He never took the time to talk to me about his work, or to understand me. He brushed aside my very real complaint that I needed something worthwhile to do during the day, suggesting instead that I take a silly cooking course. What would I do with that, I ask you? He employed a cook who refused to let me in the kitchen door!'

  'There are a lot of women who would envy that lifestyle, Leah,' Gareth pointed out.

  'Then it's a pity Gerard didn't marry one!' she snapped.

  'Perhaps he wanted you.'
/>   'Yes, of course he wanted me. He thought I was the perfect patsy. The perfect fool. I believed everything he told me.'

  'Are you sure everything he said to you was a lie?'

  'Of course I'm sure. I heard him say so as clear as a bell. He didn't love me. He'd never loved me. Yet he told me so every day, would whisper it when we made love,' she went on in strangled tones. 'Especially when he...when I...'

  Her voice broke before she could make the humiliating confession: that her husband had told her he loved her even as she came, beneath him.

  Gareth looked appalled.

  'I...I don't want to talk about him any more,' she choked out raggedly, her eyes shifting from Gareth's shocked face to stare glazedly down the street.

  Gradually her eyes focused on the people wandering up and down the pavement, her attention drawn to a well-dressed man with a mobile phone to his ear, not too common a sight in Broome. Leah frowned as she realised he was vaguely familiar. The man turned momentarily to face her direction and she sucked in a sharp breath.

  'My God!' she gasped aloud. 'Nigel!'

  CHAPTER SIX

  'WHO?' Gareth asked, peering down the street.

  But Nigel had disappeared.

  Leah found she was shaking. Her fork clattered onto the near empty plate. 'It was Nigel,' she choked out. 'Gerard's personal pilot. He...he was watching me. I'm sure of it. Watching us.'

  'What?' Gareth was on his feet. 'Where? Show me!'

  'He's gone.'

  'He can't have gone far. Do you want to go after him? I'll go with you.'

  'God, no.'

  'Why not?'

  She just shuddered. She felt ill.

  'Leah, for pity's sake, stop this,' Gareth said firmly. 'He's just a man.'

  'Who?' she said bitterly. 'Nigel? Or Gerard?'

  'Both. Now are you absolutely sure it was this Nigel person?'

  Was she? She'd only seen him for a couple of seconds. Nigel wasn't so distinctive a man. He was very average. He looked like a lot of other men, actually. Not tall. Not dark. Not handsome.

  'No,' she said wearily at last. 'I guess I'm not absolutely sure.'