Island of Dreams Page 2

  In front of Harry was a real seashell containing green salad topped by fresh prawns still in their shells. Harry saw her disappointed expression. ‘Is something wrong with your lunch?’

  ‘Why did you order a hamburger for me and seafood for yourself?’

  ‘You prefer that kind of thing. You used to love junk food.’

  Her eyes swam and she blinked hard. Was he so blind that he couldn’t see how much she’d changed? ‘I was growing up then,’ she defended herself.

  ‘And growing out,’ he agreed. ‘I’ve never known anyone who liked their tucker as much as you did, Lisa.’

  It was true. As a teenager she had been obsessed with food until counselling had helped her to understand the reason. She now knew that her problems stemmed from growing up in an atmosphere of insecurity, moving house time after time until her parents had finally accepted that no one was going to force them back to their homeland. With little chance to make friends normally it was no wonder that she had turned to food as consolation.

  Angrily she pushed the plate away. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the food, so you haven’t wasted your money.’

  His hand clamped over her wrist, stemming her flight. ‘Never mind the money. What’s the matter, Lisa?’

  She ignored the heat flaring along her arm at his touch. ’Good old Harry Blake, always so sensitive to my feelings. It seems you haven’t changed.’

  ‘All I did was order lunch, for goodness’ sake. If it offends your women’s lib principles I’m sorry.’ But his tone held no hint of real apology.

  Her eyes misted and. she blinked furiously. ‘Women’s liberation has nothing to do with it. It’s your high-handed assumption that you know what’s best for me, when you don’t.’ And never did, she added in silent fury.

  As if emerging from a trance he released her and looked at her, really looked for the first time since she’d approached him on the waterfront.

  Behind him was a mirror on the wall and she tried to see herself in it, through his eyes. Her glossy black hair flowed to her shoulders, held back from her face by tortoiseshell combs. Her dull gold skin was stained with red, both from the sun and her recent outburst. The effect emphasised her high Slavic cheekbones. And right now the light of battle flickered in her amber eyes. There was a world of difference between herself at nineteen and what the mirror showed now.

  Her gaze shifted to his face. He had changed, too, but in subtle ways. His features were more rugged than she remembered, the cleft in his chin deeper, tempting her to touch it to see if it were a trick of the light. His mouth still possessed a slightly arrogant cut which was somehow exciting, and faint hollows under his cheekbones suggested that his life to date held its share of sadness.

  His grey eyes were veiled by the sweep of his long lashes which curled slightly on to his cheeks. Then they lifted and she grew hot as she realised he was laughing at her.

  He forestalled her yet again. ‘You’re right, you have changed,’ he agreed. ‘Your temper is much hotter than I remember.’

  Was that all he noticed about her? She subsided in her seat, wondering where this sick feeling of disappointment came from. Surely she didn’t expect compliments from him? Last time he had barely acknowledged that she was female.

  To her surprise he pushed the plate of seafood towards her and lifted the hamburger on to his side of the table. ‘Now will you stay and have lunch with me?’

  It was hardly a gallant invitation but she found herself wanting to accept. ‘This looks very nice,’ she said a little primly.

  ‘Another drink?’

  She nodded and he went to fetch them. When he came back she was inordinately pleased to see that he had brought Diet Pepsi for them both. The ice clinked in the glasses as he set them down. They ate in silence for a while, then Harry asked, ‘How did you get entangled with the likes of Tyler Thornton?’

  She paused in the act of shelling a succulent prawn. ‘He approached me. I thought, with my parents gone, the media would lose interest, but it flared up as a result of the accident. Nostalgia pieces popped up everywhere.’

  Harry nodded sympathetically. ‘I saw some of them.’

  A shudder shook her. ‘Those baby pictures of me—ugh! But there was no scandal, no big inheritance, so after a while it all died down again.’

  ‘Then along comes Thornton, following a lead of his own.’

  She rested her chin on one hand. ‘Does he make a habit of digging for his stories in people’s pasts?’

  ‘Mostly in the dirt.’

  ‘In my case there isn’t any. He insists my parents left a photo, which he’s hounding me to let him publish.’

  ‘And did they?’

  ‘Not that I know of. At least, it wasn’t among their things. Not that they left very much,’ she added wistfully. ‘They brought so little with them out of Russia. About the only photo they had is their wedding picture and I’ve checked it with a magnifying glass. There’s nothing in it to interest the media.’

  ‘Did he tell you what’s supposed to be in the photo?’

  She traced a line across the table’s scarred timber surface. ‘He hasn’t had much chance. When he calls at home he gets my answering machine, and at work Simon runs interference for me.’

  Harry’s eyes glittered. ‘Simon?’

  ‘My boss at Unbeaten Tracks. He specialises in travel to out-of-the-way places.’

  ‘But his interest in you isn’t entirely professional?’

  Her friendship with Simon Fox was pleasant but casual, at least on her side. She had a feeling that Simon wanted to deepen it, but so far she wasn’t sure it was what she wanted. About to confess to Harry, she felt a spark of mischief flare inside her. If Harry thought Simon cared for her maybe he would see her in a new light. It would do him good to think she hadn’t been carrying a torch for him since he’d left. ‘Simon and I are friends,’ she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

  His glance went to her left hand. ‘But there’s nothing official yet.’

  A light laugh punctuated her answer. ‘Maybe we do have a generation gap after all. Relationships needn’t be advertised publicly any more.’

  His smoke gaze carried an odd glint. ‘Simon Fox is a fool if he subscribes to such drivel. If you were my woman…’

  His voice faded and a strangling sensation took hold of Lisa’s throat. ‘Yes? What would you do if I were your woman?’

  ‘I’d want my brand on you,’ he said flatly. ‘They say men avoid commitment, but it seems as if women are the ones who want their cake and eat it too.’

  It was an effort to keep her tone light. ‘Then it’s just as well I’m not your woman, isn’t it?’ She made a show of consulting her watch. ‘Good grief, I must be going. Reef Lady sails in an hour.’

  His anger, if such it was, evaporated with her announcement. ‘I’ll walk you to the jetty.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Suddenly she wanted to prolong the moment before parting. It was probably no more than an echo of her teenage crush on him, but as she stood beside him she felt so desolate that her legs almost refused to carry her through the bar to the street entrance.

  ‘What about your luggage?’ he asked when they were out in the balmy afternoon air again.

  ‘When I flew in from Cairns this morning they told me it would be taken to Reef Lady. Not that I brought much for a four-day cruise, but it should be waiting in my cabin.’

  ‘You should be well looked after on board. I told Donald Gardiner that you’re a friend of mine.’

  ‘I’m not supposed to have special treatment. My job is to report on the trip as an ordinary passenger would experience it.’

  ‘Then I’ll tell Don to reinstate the bread and water diet,’ he assured her gravely.

  She laughed. ‘I’m glad your sense of humour is intact.’

  ‘It gets misplaced sometimes, that’s all.’

  This must be one of those times, she thought ruefully. His sense of humour wasn’t much in evidence this afternoon. The
y had spent most of it rubbing each other up the wrong way. All the same, she couldn’t regret meeting him again, if only to assure herself that her teenage folly was over.

  They had reached the start of the long wooden jetty which jutted out into the deeper water. Passengers were already straggling aboard the vessel moored at the far end. She turned to Harry. ‘Well, this is goodbye. Or do you live in this part of the world now?’

  ‘I live here,’ he said shortly.

  A memory floated to the surface. ‘So you finally attained your dream,’ she said, her eyes alight with pleasure. ‘Your own island paradise.’

  ‘Not entirely my own, but near enough. I share it with a few traditional owners. I’m surprised you remembered.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I? When you told me about it you made it sound so real and attainable. I never doubted that you would make it.’

  ‘The royalties from the book and the film rights had a lot to do with it,’ he explained. ‘Your father really made it possible.’

  ‘But you wrote the book that everyone wanted to read.’ On impulse she reached up and kissed him. She intended to kiss his cheek but he moved his head a fraction and her lips collided with the warmth of his mouth. The contact was fleeting but left an indelible impression on her dazed brain— like a brand, she couldn’t help thinking.

  She opened her eyes, hardly aware of having closed them, to find his steely gaze fixed on her face as he returned the pressure of her mouth. Just as swiftly he ended it by putting her away from him. ‘Goodbye, Lisa,’ he rasped. ‘Have a safe journey.’

  Tears glittered in her eyes as she forced herself to turn towards the jetty on leaden feet.

  ‘Lisa, wait.’

  The harsh command stayed her steps and she glanced back uncertainly. ‘What is it?’ Her gaze followed the line of his outstretched hand. ‘Oh, no.’ Tyler Thornton was showing some documents to an officer at the foot of Reef Lady’s gangway. The officer saluted. Shouldering a travel bag, Thornton stepped aboard.

  She turned despairing eyes to Harry. ‘He’s going on the cruise. Now what am I going to do?’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘YOU could always jump ship.’

  A smile hovered on Lisa’s lips. ‘It’s tempting, but Simon expects me to report on the cruise.’

  At the mention of her boss’s name Harry’s mouth tightened. ‘The cruise runs once a week. I’m sure your friend wouldn’t want you to endure a thousand miles in the company of a snake like Thornton.’

  The faintly hostile emphasis he gave to the word ‘friend’, as applied to Simon, intrigued her. He made it sound as if this were Simon’s doing when, in fact, he had urged her to take the trip to get away from Thornton for a while.

  ‘You’re right, he wouldn’t,’ she agreed. ‘I’ve missed the last flight back to Cairns today but I could stay on TI overnight and fly home tomorrow.’

  ‘If Thornton’s determined to catch up with you he could be watching the airport,’ he suggested.

  She chewed her lower lip. ‘I hadn’t thought of it. You journalists are a persistent breed when you want something.’

  A wintry smile lightened his features. ‘I’d rather not be lumped in with Tyler Thornton, if you don’t mind.’

  She couldn’t help smiling back. ‘I don’t know. You both get ten out of ten for persistence.’

  His fingers curled around her upper arms and he drew her inexorably closer, so she could see the wicked gleam in his silvery gaze. ‘Compared to me, Thornton doesn’t know the meaning of the word persistence.’

  Yet Harry hadn’t been at all persistent where she was concerned. She had pursued him with singleminded purpose, only to be dismissed as a child who knew no better. Did he remember rebuffing her, or was it so unimportant to him that it wasn’t etched on his consciousness, the way it was burned into hers? Rather than humiliate herself by reminding him, she angled her face away. ‘I wouldn’t know, would I?’

  He released her and she took a stumbling step backwards, rubbing her arms as if the brief contact had bruised them. It was more likely her ego which was bruised, finding that he remembered so little of their previous encounter. To him she was a friend’s daughter, a duty, nothing more. She’d forgotten how much his indifference could hurt.

  Why, then, was she even considering the suggestion she knew she was about to make? ‘I have some holidays owing to me. I could stay on TI for the week and join the next cruise back to Cairns. Surely Thornton will have given up by then?’

  There was a moment’s silence, broken by the mournful cries of the gulls wheeling overhead. Then Harry said, ‘I have a better idea. Come and stay on my island for the week. There’s plenty of room and you can tell your boss you’re checking out a new tourist destination.’

  A strange fluttering started up inside her. ‘But it isn’t true, is it?’

  ‘It could be. I’m thinking of allowing a select few tourists to stay on the island, provided they appreciate the natural environment.’

  Five years ago such an invitation would have made her want to turn cartwheels with joy. Now she knew better. Or did she? The idea of spending a week with Harry on his island drew her like a magnet, despite all the reasons why she shouldn’t consider it. She should turn him down flat and go back to Cairns and Simon, who made no secret that he wanted her.

  Vainly she tried to conjure up an image of Simon’s face to counter the magnetic effect of Harry’s presence. There was only a blur. With blinding clarity she knew that as long as Harry dominated her thoughts and memories there would never be room for Simon, or any other man. What better way to exorcise Harry from her life than to accept his invitation?

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked, a hard edge of suspicion in her voice.

  There was a far-away look in his eyes. ‘I told you, I want to get Thornton off your back. Your father was part-way responsible for making the island possible and this is one way I can repay him. In his letters Nick said he hoped I’d look after you if anything happened to him. He didn’t know how prophetic it would be.’

  Every part of her rebelled against the idea of Harry as any sort of guardian. ‘I can take care of

  myself. You needn’t feel obligated,’ she flung at him.

  His shoulders rose in a suit-yourself gesture. ‘There’s still time to go aboard the ship.’

  Her brain whirled. The vessel carried only eighty passengers. She would have little chance of avoiding Thornton aboard ship, where all meals were communal and recreation space was limited. It wasn’t as if there were ports of call where she could escape him. The islands they stopped at were remote and uninhabited. She had a mental vision of Thornton pestering her all the way back to Cairns.

  It wouldn’t be so bad if she had anything to tell him, but she hadn’t seen his mysterious photo and knew nothing about the story he wanted from her.

  Harry moved purposefully on to the jetty. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, jolted out of her reverie.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. ‘To get your luggage. Keep out of sight until I get back.’

  He strode off down the wooden jetty with a confidence which left her feeling breathless. As she followed orders and retreated into the shade of a tree she was torn between anger at his arrogance and relief at having the decision taken out of her hands. Harry’s island, here I come, she thought. Ready or not.

  A short time later he returned with her case hefted carelessly in one hand and a broad grin on his tanned features. ‘It’s all set,’ he announced. ‘Don Gardiner will let Thornton think you’re seasick the first night out. They’ll be halfway to Cairns before he realises you aren’t aboard.’

  Four whole days free of looking over her shoulder for the tiresome journalist. It sounded wonderful. ‘You think of everything,’ she told Harry.

  He winked at her. ‘It helps to be friends with the ship’s captain.’

  ‘Which reminds me—where did you tell him I was staying?’

  ‘I didn’t have to. He assumed you were stay
ing with me.’

  ‘It sounds as if you make a habit of hijacking Captain Gardiner’s passengers,’ she said uneasily.

  ‘Only the good-looking ones.’

  The urge to lash out at him caught her by surprise. He was only confirming her suspicion that she was the latest of many female guests on the island. He was too well organised for one thing. And she remembered only too well his warning five years ago: ‘I believe in loving and leaving before anyone gets hurt.’ Anyone being him, she had assumed. Hurt by the burden of a lasting commitment.

  He saw her hesitate. ‘We’d better go if we’re to get across Drummer Bar before sunset.’

  ‘I don’t know where your island is or how far away it is, or anything,’ she said on a rising note of concern.

  Amusement glittered in his smoky gaze. ‘Getting cold feet, Lisa?’

  ‘No, I…Should I?’

  The backs of his fingers grazed her upper arm, sending shivers rippling through her. ‘Probably. It isn’t too late to change your mind and stay on TI.’

  ‘Would you mind if I did?’ She cursed inwardly as her voice came out infuriatingly husky.

  His hooded gaze betrayed nothing. ‘I can hardly object. The whole point is to keep Thornton out of your hair, so it’s up to you.’

  Again disappointment roiled through her. He wasn’t taking her to his island to be alone with her. It was this damnable sense of obligation to her father’s memory. Would he never stop treating her as the daughter of Nikita Alexandrov, and see her as she was now?

  Confused, she looked away. What was going on here? She had accepted his invitation to prove to herself that she was over him. What exactly did she want from him? There was only one way to find out. ‘I’ll come,’ she said on a sighing breath. ‘But first I must make a phone call to Cairns.’

  He reached for her case then straightened. ‘Let me guess. You want to call Simon Fox.’

  Why did he make it sound like a crime? ‘His agency is paying for the cruise. I should tell him I’m not aboard so that he can change the ticket. I’ll arrange to take my holidays at the same time.’