Socialite's Gamble

by Michelle Conder

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You wanted something useful to do.’

  ‘Yes!’ She beamed a smile at him that made him feel instantly guilty. ‘Yes, I did.’

  He nodded. Cleared his throat before he spoke. ‘Great. It should only take an hour. Lunch will be served on the main restaurant terrace at one o’clock.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  He watched her head back to the bungalow until she was out of sight before turning towards the specially designed conference facilities. He couldn’t quite get into his head that she was as genuine as she seemed. In his experience where there was smoke there was fire and she was a Chatsfield—one of Britain’s most notorious families. And while her reputation didn’t make her a bad person per se, it did confirm his view that women generally prioritised their own needs above and beyond anyone else’s.

  And two hours later she proved the rule.

  ‘Are you sure she’s coming, Aidan. I’m really looking forward to meeting her. She’s so beautiful.’

  Aidan unlocked his jaw long enough to answer Ben’s charming wife, Kate. ‘I believe she said she would come, but—’ she’s probably off chatting up another surfer ‘—I suspect she’s lost track of time.’

  He got up and stalked over to where Dinesh was seating conference attendees—the ones in shorts!

  ‘Dinesh, have you seen my guest?’

  ‘Ms Chatsfield. Yes, boss. I showed her where the school was earlier. She’s a keeper, that one.’

  No, Aidan wanted to correct him: she needed a keeper.

  Irritated by the other man’s assessment, he snapped, ‘Hold off on serving our table lunch, will you. She’s supposed to be here.’

  Of course he could just leave her where she was and continue lunch without her. He didn’t require her to be at the table. That didn’t matter. She had agreed to meet him and he was a man who kept his word and expected others to do the same.

  Cara was in heaven. It was market day in the island village and all the locals had their wares on display on cloth-covered tables. Having finished wandering around the primary school and noting down her observations Cara couldn’t resist meandering amongst the tables with some of the schoolchildren trailing after her, chatting and holding her hand.

  She couldn’t wait to give Aidan her notes to show him that she was more than just a pretty face, which by his comments earlier was all he thought she was.

  Smiling she picked up a gorgeous sarong.

  Aidan had been right about her being able to lay low on the island. The locals had no clue who she was, or didn’t care, and the other guests were busy relaxing or at the conference. Of course her problems hadn’t magically disappeared in the warm tropical air—such a pity—but she had no intention of interrupting her good mood by thinking about the future right now.

  ‘You like to buy one?’

  An older, matronly woman with frizzy hair voiced the question and Cara found herself testing the quality of the fabric she held in her hand. It was excellent.

  ‘Yes, actually.’ She dipped into the small leather purse she wore diagonally across her body. The colour would perfectly match Cilla’s eyes. ‘The colour and texture of the fabric is really beautiful.’

  ‘My daughter, Jenny, makes it herself.’ The woman smiled proudly.

  Cara smiled back. It surprised her how friendly everyone was. How much they liked to chat.

  Especially if the topic was Prince Aidan. It seemed that the man could do no wrong in their eyes. And Cara had to admit that she was pretty impressed to find out that Aidan put 80 per cent of the profits made by the resort back into the village to provide for the locals. Apparently his view was that this was their island and they were bestowing him a gift by letting him share it with others. Something she hadn’t expected from a billionaire businessman who had showed no remorse in trying to ruin Martin Ellery the other night. No remorse until the end, that was.

  Without warning she remembered the flash of pain she had thought she’d seen in his eyes when he’d been talking about Martin Ellery and she wondered at it. She had been able to pick up that the animosity between the two men went back a long way but it was obviously a touchy subject because twice she had asked about it and twice she had been instantly closed down for her trouble. Not that she would have expected Aidan to open up to her because she was a stranger but still … she was a stranger he had kissed. A stranger he had touched.

  Feeling a now-familiar ache low down in her body whenever she remembered how it felt to be in his arms Cara tamped down on her thoughts. Being attracted to Aidan Kelly only proved her sister’s theory that she really was attracted to men who were only interested in short-term liaisons.

  Better to think of him as a friend—if even that—and forget all about how stupidly gorgeous he was. He wasn’t for her and she’d promised herself a year ago that once she found out a guy wasn’t right for her, then she’d move on.

  And really, she should be glad nothing was going to happen between them because her life was too messed up right now to complicate it even more by imagining that this fake relationship was even a real friendship.

  It wasn’t.

  They were two people who had met by chance and who would be going their separate ways after tomorrow. And she couldn’t have been happier. It would be one less person judging her and finding her lacking in some way.

  Realising that the older woman was still chatting, and that she had completely lost the thread of the conversation, Cara tuned back in.

  ‘Jenny also works with the Fijian black pearls. Would you like to see them?’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  The woman reached beneath the table and pulled out a large beat-up metal box. When she opened it Cara’s breath caught. Inside, laid out in velvet-lined sections, were clusters of pearls of all sizes and colours ranging from the deepest black to gunmetal grey and an amber brown that defied description. Most of them were delicately strung together with the finest leather strips that were a perfect foil for the shiny pearls.

  ‘Oh, my gosh, these are amazing. Can I touch them?’

  ‘Of course. I not put them out yet until Jenny arrives.’

  Cara reached into the box and pulled out a bracelet of three pearls strung side by side and separated by tiny knots in the fine leather cord. The jeweller had twisted sections of the leather in such a way that it didn’t detract from the centrepiece. The effect was effortless and visually stunning.

  This was what Cara loved to do. Find quirky combinations of clothes and jewellery and make them work together. She had often thought about opening a shop at some stage in the future that combined high-street wear with vintage pieces in the one place. Now, studying the beautiful Fijian colours and designs, she wondered if it were at all possible to open a shop that offered an array of both clothing and jewellery from different cultures all in one place. She thought about her own favourite pieces. Scarves from Paris, slippers and shawls from Nepal, her Aztec earrings, her Texan cowboy boots.

  A vision started to unfold in her mind.

  ‘Does Jenny sell these on the international market?’

  ‘Oh, no. She just finish her schooling in Australia thanks to Mr Kelly and—oh, here he is.’

  Cara glanced over her shoulder to see Aidan Kelly bearing down on them and he didn’t look happy.

  ‘Mr Kelly. Bula.’

  ‘Bula, Esther, how are you?’

  ‘Better than you.’ The older woman laughed, presenting her cheek for him to kiss. ‘You look hot and busy. Need to slow down, Mr Kelly.’

  ‘So you say every time I visit.’

  ‘Still the same, though.’ The old woman gave a theatrical sigh. ‘You the only person I know who never get into Fijian time.’

  ‘Fijian time?’ Cara said.

  ‘The locals here move at a pace all of their own making,’ Aidan said with a brief smile. ‘We, in Australia, call it slow.’

  ‘It’s what people come here for. To chill out. Relax. Life meant to be enjo
yed,’ Esther informed him.

  Aidan’s searing gaze latched on to Cara’s. ‘Some people do that better than others. Haven’t you forgotten something?’

  ‘What—Oh, my God. You invited me to lunch.’

  ‘Which was due to start twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Cara handed back the beautiful pearl bracelet. ‘Thank you, Esther. Tell your daughter I think she’s a genius.’

  Esther leaned closer and laid her hand on Cara’s arm. ‘Men never like women shopping. He will be okay.’

  Cara wasn’t so sure and she had to stretch her legs to keep up with Aidan as he strode across the soft sand, completely ignoring the crystal-clear water that lapped onto the shoreline. She felt terrible for keeping him waiting and knew that, once again, she had mucked up.

  ‘I’m sorry I—’

  His grim expression stayed her. The light banter around the word they had shared the night before was nowhere in sight. ‘You weren’t going to say that again.’

  ‘Except I seem to keep messing up with you and I can see you’re really upset.’

  ‘I expect people to keep to their obligations when they make them. Clearly shopping was more important than keeping to yours.’

  Aidan saw her flinch as if he had slapped her and it made him want to find the nearest boxing ring. Maybe Dinesh would do a few rounds with him later on to help him work off some of his pent-up energy.

  Knowing that on some level his reaction was over the top Aidan stalked off and absently listened to the squeak of their feet on the sand. When Cara remained silent beside him he realised that she had retreated inside herself and his frustration with the whole situation grew.

  Stopping, he pulled her into the shade of a palm tree—the slow, rhythmical swish of the ocean behind him almost mocking his foul mood. ‘Dammit, why are you letting me push you around like this?’

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Because you want to think the worst of me and you’re right, saying that I lost track of time is just lame.’

  ‘But it happens,’ he excused, wondering what had happened to the rational side of his brain.

  She gave a glum smile. ‘It doesn’t happen to you.’

  He thought of his performance earlier at the conference, or rather his non-performance. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but …

  She swallowed and his eyes dropped to the creamy column of her throat and lower to the brightly coloured sarong she had tied over her breasts. It hid everything and nothing, the carelessly tied centre knot making his fingers itch to tug it loose.

  The warm breeze stirred the straight edges of her short hair. ‘What have you done to your hair now?’

  She reached up at his unexpected question and fingered the row of tiny plaits. ‘A couple of the schoolgirls put a few braids through it while I wrote up my notes about the school. Here they are, by the way.’

  Aidan took the two neatly folded pieces of notepaper and stuffed them into his pocket. How could he be angry with her when all she’d been doing was taking the time to be friendly with the islanders?

  Well, he’d expected her to be lying on the beach entertaining some randy surfer, that was why.

  He shook his head. He had to get a grip. For some reason Cara reminded him of his mother. Or rather, she reminded him of how it felt when his mother had left. Hollow and … sad. Emotions that were debilitating and destructive. Emotions he never wanted to experience again after seeing how badly they had affected his father.

  Looking down at her he wondered what it was about her that made him remember all that. Wondered what it was about her that made him want to reach out and run his hand down the smooth skin of her cheek. Made him want to ignore all logic and just sink into her welcoming body until he couldn’t think of anything at all.

  ‘Aidan?’

  Her soft query brought his eyes back to her lustrous grey ones. He frowned and she glanced away from him.

  Grey?

  ‘Look at me?’

  She did, but he might as well have been a headmaster holding out a metre-long cane.

  Wanting to shake off the heavy vibe, Aidan sucked in a deep breath and realised she was right about him wanting to think the worst of her. The chemistry between them was so red-hot he needed every excuse he could come up with to keep from acting on it.

  Remembering her comment from the day before about channelling some movie star, he instinctively knew that her eye colour wasn’t natural. ‘Who are you channelling today?’

  ‘Aishwarya Rai.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘A really talented Indian actress with the most incredible eyes.’

  Aidan shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with just being yourself, Cara?’

  She sifted a layer of silky white sand between red-painted toenails. ‘Oh, you don’t want me to do that. I’m boring.’

  Yeah, about as boring as a Cirque du Soleil show. But he could see she believed it and he wanted to press her up against the trunk of the palm tree and show her just how boring she wasn’t.

  As if somehow reading his mind, she made to move past him but her movements were jerky and uncoordinated and she stumbled. Aidan reached for her, his hands sliding around her torso, his thumbs pressing into the slight swell of her small breasts.

  Lust, hot and powerful, punched him in the gut and he revelled in the feel of her lithe frame between his large hands. He was almost a head taller than her and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. The movement exposed the long line of her throat and the deep V of her cleavage where the tight sarong pulled her breasts together.

  Her hands gripped his biceps and the pulse point in the base of her throat beat at a rapid pace that matched his own.

  Her heat enveloped him, her scent consumed him, and Aidan wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment he didn’t even realise that one hand had moved to the back of her head until the ferry that visited the island twice a day let out three sharp whistles.

  It was enough to break whatever spell he was under and Aidan pulled back, shocked at how close he’d come to giving in to the impulse to kiss her.

  This was crazy.

  Already he was thinking about her too much and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like anything he couldn’t categorise and she was defying every box he tried to fit her into. Until he worked her out, until … Hell.

  Until nothing.

  He stepped back. Ran his hand through his hair. Righted his breathing. ‘How long will it take you to change for lunch?’

  Surprise registered on her face. ‘You still want me to come to lunch?’

  Telling himself that he was completely in control, Aidan checked his watch. ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Then how long?’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHY PINK?’ KATE, the woman Cara had struck up an instant rapport with over lunch, leaned across the outdoor dining table with a huge smile on her face and drew her attention away from the view of the azure-blue water and the picture-perfect islands in the distance. The sense of space gave the outdoor restaurant a calm ambience despite how busy it was. Cara had just been thinking about how she felt about the call she had received from her agent on the walk to the restaurant. It seemed that it wasn’t only Christos who was impressed by her newfound relationship with the esteemed Aidan Kelly; the Demarche deal was back on the table. Or a variation of the deal.

  ‘Basically,’ Harriet had said, ‘it’s between you and America’s latest sweetheart. You both turn up at the gala dinner next Sunday night, strut your stuff, and they’ll make a decision on the night.’

  Sort of like a test, Cara thought, knowing that they were probably hedging their bets with her in case something else went wrong between now and then.

  Cara’s first thought was that she was insulted by the idea of parading around a room full of people while corporate executives sat back and rated her. But then she reminded herself that modelling was competitive and if she wa
nted the deal, then she’d have to forsake her pride and just do it. And what could go wrong between now and then? She was on a tropical island with a respected businessman. A respected businessman she felt drawn to like a moth to a flame.

  Thankfully, he seemed to have more sense than her and she had joked with him on the way to the restaurant that at least one of them was faring well in the reputation stakes out of their pretend union, but the truth was, she didn’t want to have a negative impact on Aidan.

  The realisation had given her pause because no matter how hard she tried to pretend that he was just another man who would pass through her life, a part of her knew that wasn’t true.

  A part of her knew that if they had made love the other night it would have been unforgettable. That he would have been unforgettable. Which was a problem because life had taught Cara that she was infinitely forgettable to those she cared about the most.

  A splash sounded in the nearby infinity pool and Cara returned her attention to Kate.

  ‘I mean, I love it on you,’ Kate continued, ‘but I don’t think I’d ever be game to do it myself.’

  ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ Cara admitted. Like most things in her life, she mused, completely unplanned.

  ‘Sometimes they’re the best decisions. And—’ Kate leaned her elbows on the linen tablecloth ‘—speaking of spur-of-the-moment things, I’m dying to know how you and Aidan met.’

  Cara felt her mouth open and close as her mind whirred for something to say. ‘I …’ Foolishly she hadn’t expected anyone to ask her this kind of question on the island and she was completely unprepared.

  ‘Oh, I’ve embarrassed you.’ Kate grimaced. ‘Please don’t mind my brashness. I’m the mother of a toddler—my life is officially boring.’