An Inconvenient Husband (11 page)

She released a long,
slow breath. Then, resolutely, she put his words out of her mind and went
outside and began to explore the garden. Chickens ran loose around and under the
house. She discovered a large tank which she assumed held gasoline to fuel the
generator, and a rugged pickup truck that looked like it had done hard labor.

At the end of the
garden, she found a narrow trail leading into the forest. Standing in the bright
sunlight she considered the possibility of a brief foray down the green,
shadowy trail, contemplating the dangers. Obviously, this trail was one she'd
seen on the maps in the office, used by the O'Connors and the students.

Glancing down she
examined her jeans and sneakers. Surely they'd do. She'd go for a short while
only, and go straight and come back straight.

It was getting warmer
and she pulled off the sweatshirt and tossed it on the grass. She'd get it on
her way back. Ten yards down the path and she felt as if she'd been swallowed
by an ancient, primordial world, vibrating with secret life. Glancing over her
shoulder she could no longer see the sunny garden with its riot of flowering
bushes. She continued, looking carefully where she was setting her feet. The
path was wet and slippery from rain that must have fallen during the night.

Sunlight filtered
thinly through the canopy of leaves above, sparking here and there on the wet,
dripping foliage. Huge ferns clung to tree trunks, mosses drooped down from
branches and vines. Unseen birds chattered in the verdant greenery and
everywhere was the humming and buzzing of insects.

It was like magic. She
felt awed by it all.

Just as she decided to
turn back, she heard the rushing of water. Going on a few more steps, she
noticed a fast- running stream babbling over rocks and stones, the water
crystal clear. Bending down she put her hand in it to feel it. It was icy cold.

She found a flat rock
and sat down and watched a cloud of brightly colored butterflies dancing in the
dappled sunlight. How wonderful it would be to have someone to share this with.
The thought brought back memories of camping trips and hikes with Blake in the
Blue Ridge Mountains, of sitting by idyllic streams by day and intimate fires
at night. Impatiently she pushed the images away and came to her feet again. It
was time to go back.

She'd barely
straightened up when she noticed the snake coiled comfortably on a sunny rock,
a mere four feet away from her. Her heart leapt in her throat. Inching away
carefully, she made her retreat, her eyes on the motionless reptile. It never
stirred, uninterested in her presence.

Once at a safe
distance, she let out a long sigh of relief and grinned at herself. She'd seen
snakes before and had learned to accept them as a reality of life, but she'd
never learned to be fond of them.

Her heart rate slowed
to normal as she moved on down the trail. She was almost back to the house when
she heard her name. Blake, calling her. She saw him a moment later, coming
toward her around a bend in the trail, wearing khaki shorts and a black
T-shirt. She couldn't help but feel the little leap in her chest at seeing the
familiar shape of him, the long, muscular legs striding so purposefully toward
her, the movements of his lean body, all male and sexy amid the verdant
greenery of the jungle. She swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts out of her
head.

"I'm here,"
she said. "I just went for a walk. It's so beautiful here!" She was
about to elaborate about all the wonderful things she had seen, when her
enthusiasm was abruptly squashed by the glowering expression on his face.

"What the hell do
you think you're doing disappearing like this!"

She stared at him.
"I was taking a walk. I was only gone for half an hour or so."

"You should have
told somebody!" Anger flashed in his eyes. "This is not a city park,
for God's sake! Look around you!" He made a sweeping gesture with his arm,
as if to demonstrate. "This is the
rain forest!
It's what
they used to call the
jungle!"

She stiffened.
"Thank you for that information. I hadn't noticed," she said
sarcastically.

His jaw worked. His
eyes bored into hers. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out
here?"

She crossed her arms
in front of her chest as she thought of the snake. "I think I have some idea,
yes."

"For future
reference, if you want to go on a stroll, tell someone and don't ever set a
single footstep off the path or you may never find it again."

"I'll remember
that," she said frigidly. "And for future reference, will you
remember not to speak to me as if I'm a dim-witted child?"

"Then don't act
like one!"

He walked off, then
turned abruptly and waited for her to catch up.

"Do you play
golf?" he asked.

She stared at him with
open mouth. "What?" she asked.

"Golf," he
repeated impatiently. "Do you play golf?"

She laughed, she
couldn't help it. One moment he was berating her about taking a walk in the
jungle and the next he was inquiring if she played golf.

He shoved his hands
into his pockets. "What's so funny? It's a simple question, isn't
it?"

She nodded. "Yes.
And no, I don't play golf. You know I don't."

He shrugged and began
walking again. "A lot can change in four years."

So it could, but not
that particular situation. "Why do you ask?" She had trouble keeping
up with his long strides.

"I'm going down
to Paradise Mountain, the resort we passed by on the way over here. I need to
make some phone calls and I thought I'd take in a round of golf and have dinner
there with some friends. Would you like to come?"

She certainly would
love to have a phone to use and to be someplace where there were other people
besides Blake.

"I'd love to. I'd
like to call my father."

"Fine. There's a
swimming pool, and a small shop where you can buy a suit."

They left right after
lunch, bumping along the un- paved track for about twenty minutes before coming
to the little village where the paved road began. It wound back down the
mountains, through tea plantations and market gardens and back up again toward
the resort. It took another half hour before they entered the gates of Paradise
Mountain.

Blake parked the car
in a shady lot near the main building, a rustic construction of stone and wood.
"I don't mean to worry you more than necessary," he said, looking at
her, "but when you call your father, be careful of what you say. I don't
want this to sound like something out of a bad movie, but for all I know his
phones may be tapped. Don't tell him where you are. He already knows. I
mentioned I'd be here to write my report when I spoke to him at the party.
Also, don't talk about that business scam he's dealing with. And don't ask for
your passport, either. Better safe than sorry."

She stared at him.
"I don't believe this," she said on a sigh. "How am I going to
get my purse and my passport!"

"I'll figure
something out."

"Like what?"

He made an impatient
gesture. "For the time being it's not very important. Just tell your
father that you're all right. He has enough on his mind right now."

She closed her eyes
briefly and sighed. "All right, I'll be careful. What
do
I talk to him about?"

He shrugged.
"Tell him you're at a party and having a great time."

She looked at him, saw
a flicker of humor in his eyes. "You've got to be kidding," she said
on a low note.

He took the key out of
the ignition and put it in his pocket. "Alternatively, you can tell him
you're having a terrible time, but that might worry him." He opened the
door and leapt out of the car.

Inside the building,
he took her to the manager's office, where she was introduced to a
sophisticated Malay man who greeted them with a smile. He spoke English
fluently, and it was obvious he knew Blake from several previous visits. He was
a friend of the O'Connors who came to the resort regularly to play golf and
tennis and to visit with friends who lived in the area.

They were offered the
use of a room where they could change clothes and make their phone calls. Blake
suggested she go ahead and call her father, after which he would show her the
resort shop and the pool.

Her call took no time
at all; her father was not in his office. The secretary informed her that he
was at an important meeting at the Ministry of Industry and Commerce and was
not expected back in the office that afternoon. She put the phone down, feeling
deflated and worried.

"Try again
later," Blake suggested. "I'll show you around first." He pulled
out his wallet and fished out a credit card. "Buy what you need," he
told her, handing her the piece of gold plastic.

She had no choice but
to accept it, but it made her cringe. It made her feel like a bothersome child
sent out of the way. "I'll pay you back," she said tightly.

"I'm sure you
will." The corner of his mouth twitched and it was that little smile that
sparked something in her.

"Don't smirk at
me!" she snapped.

The twitch turned into
a half grin. "Wasn't aware I was smirking," he said casually.

"Are you enjoying
this?"

"Enjoying what?
Lending you some money? What's the big deal?"

"You enjoy seeing
me so helpless and dependent on your good graces!" She hated this. To be
dependent on her own ex-husband, of all people, was almost intolerable.

"I wouldn't have
a nervous breakdown about it if I were you," he said with maddening calm.
"Now, come this way, and I'll show you where the pool is."

He was insufferable!
She couldn't stand him! It took an effort to keep her cool. Nervous breakdown,
my foot, she said silently. I'll show you!

They followed
flower-fringed walking paths until the crystal blue water of the pool appeared
in front of them. It was large, shaped irregularly and surrounded by lounges in
sunny spots and small tables in the shade. Planters full of flowers offered an
abundance of cheerful color. An open-air coffee shop on one end dispensed
drinks and snacks. Spending a few hours here would be no hardship.

They went back to the
main building, which contained a restaurant as well as the sports shop whose
window displayed an artfully arranged collection of fashionable swim and sports
wear.

"I'll go make my
phone calls and head for the golf course," Blake announced. "Let's
say we'll meet at six at the restaurant terrace for sundowners. All
right?"

She nodded.
"Fine, I'll see you there." She moved inside the store, narrowly
passing a young woman on her way out. Of Indian descent, she had shiny black
hair and large brown eyes. Even the brief glimpse that Nicky caught of her was
enough to see she was strikingly beautiful.

Nicky glanced around
the store to orient herself.

"Blake!" she
heard the woman say behind her back. Automatically, Nicky turned around to see
her hugging a smiling Blake.

"Hello,
Ghita," he returned cheerfully.

"Lisette told me
you were coming. I was hoping you'd get in touch." She had a nice voice
and a sexy accent.

She was dressed in a
simple white dress modestly accenting perfect shapes and curves. "You
know," she went on, "I'm not—"

Nicky couldn't hear
the rest. She watched the two moving away and out of sight. She realized she
was staring into empty space, not moving, her mouth dry as dust. She swallowed
hard and turned back again to start her exploration of the store.

The shop was
well-stocked with all the usual items found in resort stores—swimwear and
casual clothes, sports gear, sunglasses and toiletry articles. Not
surprisingly, the prices were astronomical. Well, no matter. She had a magic
piece of plastic, gold and shiny. She might as well use it.

An hour later she had
what she wanted—a bikini, a wrap to cover up, sunscreen, sunglasses,
moisturizer and some makeup. She'd also bought a long cotton dress made of
traditional Malay
batek
fabric with an exotic design in brown, white and indigo
blue. She'd wear that to the restaurant tonight.

Instead of going back
to the room, where she might run into Blake, and God forbid, the woman named
Ghita, she changed in the shower room near the pool. She ordered a glass of
juice from the coffee shop and settled herself on a lounge. Having slathered
sunscreen all over herself like a responsible person, she closed her eyes and
sighed.

Ah, bliss.

But not for long.
Voices. Laughter. People were settling at a table nearby. Words and phrases
reached her ears. Something about a dinner party, a tennis match. Two girls, by
the sound of it, and she recognized one of the voices.

Nicky turned her face
and peered through her lashes. Ghita, as she had suspected. She was sitting at
a small table nearby, in the company of another woman, a tall blonde. Both of
them looked young, in their early twenties. Both of them wore bikinis and were
sipping drinks. Ghita leaned forward a little, pushing her drink aside.