Constantinou's Mistress (13 page)

‘It's on the radio.'

‘Right. OK, Peter, that's all for now.'

‘Mr Constantinou, sir…' He stood up. If he had had a hat to wring, Lucy was convinced he would be wringing it now. As it was, he had to make do with his hands. ‘My job…'

‘Is safe for the moment.'

Lucy waited in silence for a few minutes after Peter had gone, then she broke it by saying,

‘That was very big of you, Nick. Very compassionate.'

‘What choice did I have?' He was still leaning forward, his chin propped on the palm of one hand, and he turned so that he was facing her. ‘He looks as though he only just recently started shaving and he has a child to support.' He raked his fingers through his hair and stood up so that he could expend some of his energy by circling the small room, his head down-bent, his mouth set in a grim line.

‘Can you tell me—' he turned to her, although he didn't look as though he was focusing on her at all, more on some hazy point in the distance, some place where his thoughts were preoccupied with matters far removed from her ‘—why the hell it is that people have children when they are virtually children themselves?'

‘Well, I suppose…'

‘A mortgage, a child! Good lord!' He paused and
stared out of the French windows to the stunning lawns outside.

‘Not everyone has their life planned out to the last detail,' Lucy said softly.

‘You mean like me?' He smiled crookedly and without humour. ‘And what if I told you that my greatest wish was to have a child of my own?' The bitter statement was out before he had time to think and he was paralysed for a few deathly seconds by the sheer horror of the revelation, then he pushed himself away from the doors and resumed his seat behind the black and chrome desk. ‘The boy will have to stay. He may be guilty of being manipulated and appallingly naïve, but the blame for all this…mess…is with Rawlings, and I intend to have his hide as soon as he steps foot back into this hotel.'

The mention of wanting a baby, she noticed, had been brushed over. For a split-second he had revealed his vulnerability and she knew, instinctively, that it was a moment best left alone.

‘
If
he steps foot back here,' Lucy said, picking up the strands of their business discussions. She looked down at the thick wad of notes she had taken over the past few hours. So much for any doubts that this was going to be a working week! There was enough here to keep her busy for days. ‘Shall I get going on all of this? I'll get some more print-outs from the computer and re-check the files to see if we've missed anything.'

Nick nodded grimly. ‘In the meantime I intend to go and listen to the radio and find out if there really is any hurricane bound for these parts. If there isn't, then you might find yourself on another plane with me tracking the AWOL Rawlings down.'

‘W
HAT
do we do now?' Lucy looked nervously across to Nick and drew her knees up so that she could wrap her arms around her legs.

This was the first moment they had had alone for two hours during which they had been herding the hotel guests together in the largest of the dining rooms so that they could explain that the path of the hurricane had altered slightly. No chance of being caught up in the dangerous vortex of the eye, but every chance that the island would be buffeted by the tail.

‘Not much else we
can
do but wait.' He raked his fingers through his hair and looked at her. ‘You were good back there, very good.' Better than good, in fact, he thought to himself as he continued to watch the elfin face staring solemnly back at him. He had provided his alarmed guests with the skeletal details of what they might expect and had somehow managed to send their panic levels soaring. Lucy, on the other hand, had soothed them, played down their fears, moved through the thirty-odd guests with just the right mixture of reassurance and blunt reality. Even though she herself had no real idea of what to expect.

‘I suppose we should be grateful that it is now seven in the morning and we at least had a good night.' He stood up and moved to where the small figure was huddled on the big, brightly covered sofa, then he sat down next to her. ‘Scared? Or is that a stupid question?'

‘I've never been in a hurricane before.'

‘And you won't be in one now,' Nick assured her. ‘If the meteorologists are correct, all we should experience are some high winds and a lot of rain.'

‘Just a little localised flooding,' Lucy joked weakly, and he felt a driving urge to gather her up in his arms and bury her against his chest. Women who collapsed in a crisis, he suddenly thought, weren't endearing. They were a nuisance. Lucy was plucky. Plucky and, dressed as she was now, in a pair of baggy, flimsy culottes and an oversized T-shirt, looking more like a wide-eyed, pretty boy than a woman who could drive him crazy.

He diverted his eyes to the windows behind her and the gathering blackness of the skies outside. It had dawned still but bright, and in the space of only an hour the sunshine had been eclipsed by racing clouds. Already the breeze was beginning to turn into more of a wind and the trees outside were swaying gracefully under its force.

‘Are
you
scared?' Lucy asked him suddenly, and he looked at her with amusement.

‘Now, do I look the sort of man who is afraid of anything?'

‘Everyone is afraid of
something
.'

‘Put it this way: battling with the elements does not frighten me, even though nature unleashed can be a terrifying force. What would be more terrifying than coping with this situation would be if one of those damn-fool guests started to panic. I have never seen a group of people more afraid than this lot. I don't think there was a single one who did not try and persuade us that trying to get them out in time would be the best solution.'

‘I know.' Lucy looked at the strength in Nick's face and felt ridiculously content that she was here now, with him. She realised that she had not thought about Robert
once, and with a sigh of recognition realised that, however nice he was and however secure life would be with him, she would have to finish their relationship the minute she got back to London. ‘I can't believe that there were actually three men who complained about missing meetings if they found themselves cooped up here for longer than three days.'

‘One can only assume that their wives do not possess the wherewithal to make them see that a few stolen days away from work could be worth their while.' He looked at her speculatively. ‘Have you telephoned your boyfriend to let him know what is going on out here?'

Lucy flushed guiltily. ‘Actually, no…it's been so…well, I've been so caught up with things…' It hadn't even occurred to her. Conclusive proof that Robert was not destined to be the man in her life.

‘Well, perhaps you should,' Nick said casually, lowering his eyes and fighting to contain a smile of triumph. ‘Just in case the lines go down. Unless, of course,' he added silkily, ‘you are not too bothered whether he knows or not…'

Lucy leapt to her feet and went across to the telephone, turning her back to Nick while she dialled Robert's London number. In all events, she was spared a conversation, leaving her message on his answer-machine and assuring him that it was nothing to worry about.

‘Not at home?' Nick asked conversationally. ‘At this hour?' He glanced down at his watch. ‘But it would be…well, very early in the morning, British time…' He watched her flush and raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. ‘Not out playing the field, is he?' he asked in a hearty voice, and her flush deepened.

‘He sometimes spends the night at his mother's,' Lucy
eventually admitted. ‘She…she lives quite close by and she's on her own. Apparently she's a little paranoid about safety and Robert feels duty-bound to stay over at her house every so often…'

‘Odd arrangement.'

It hadn't seemed odd when Robert had explained this to her weeks ago. In fact, she had found it quite touching that he was such a devoted son. Now she realised that it was indeed an odd arrangement.

‘He's very devoted,' she mumbled, and watched Nick's raised eyebrows lift a little higher.

‘Sweet.' He stared at her, wondering whether to push the conversation further and decided that he would. The spectre of Robert having any claims over her ignited the devil in him. ‘And what would be the arrangement should you two marry?' He realised that he was desperate to hear her admit that they weren't suited, that she had made a big mistake going out with him in the first place.

‘I don't know,' Lucy said testily. ‘Shouldn't we be going outside to see what's happening to our motley collection? Make sure they're not having nervous breakdowns?'

‘He'd probably do the sensible thing.' Nick ignored her attempt to divert him from the subject and instead stroked his chin thoughtfully with one long finger.

‘Which is…?'

‘Oh, probably sell his house and get you to sell yours so that you can both move into somewhere big enough to accommodate his mother.' He allowed the appalling suggestion to sink in before shrugging dismissively. ‘I have seen that arrangement before and my advice would be to avoid it at all costs. Mothers-in-law can prove to
be difficult customers at close range, especially if their darling little boy is an only child…'

‘Thank you for your advice.'

That wasn't good enough, Nick thought, his jaw hardening. ‘In fact, you might want to ask yourself whether marriage to a man who still has not cut the apron strings is such a good prospect…'

Not only was he hell-bent on playing the good tour guide, Lucy thought suddenly, but he also considered her too inexperienced to know how to deal with a relationship! Could he be more patronising if he tried? She could have told him that she had already made her mind up about Robert, but perversely refused to give him the satisfaction of having him think that his little snippets of advice had managed to sway her.

‘Oh, I think there's a big difference between a man who hasn't cut the apron strings and a man who is kind and thoughtful towards his parents,' Lucy said airily, heading towards the door and thereby indicating the end of their conversation.

She barely had time to turn the handle before feeling the curl of Nick's fingers around her forearm. ‘I am not trying to pry into your private life,' he lied smoothly, ‘I merely feel some responsibility towards you.'

‘Why?' It was at times like this, when he closed the physical distance between them and she could feel the heat of his body, that her mind began going into crazy loops and her breathing became difficult. She had thought that going out with someone, shutting her eyes to Nick's inaccessible, idiotic attraction, would have got her priorities in order, and for a while Robert had been good for her. She had actually begun to think that with a little effort she could talk herself into obeying all her basic instincts for reasonable behaviour. It hadn't lasted.
But facing up to that still didn't make her stop hating herself for her stupid vulnerability.

‘I suppose because you are not the world-weary, hardened type of woman who can handle—'

‘Who can handle…what? Her emotions? A love life?'

‘That's not what I meant at all,' Nick grated, wondering where he had managed to lose his control over their conversation. He was barely aware of the wind gusting against the windows, picking up leaves and debris and rattling them against the panes of glass.

‘Look, I can take care of myself. Shall we just leave it at that and go outside so that we can see what's happening?' His dark face staring down at her was doing absolutely nothing for her peace of mind. She was just too aware of the proximity of his muscled body, which she had committed to memory months ago, on that one fateful night, and which yesterday's little jaunt at the beach had further imprinted in her head. She should push him away, but she had a sickening suspicion that if she laid her hand against his chest it would stay there and the little secret she had spent so long hiding would explode in both their faces like a bomb. She would just not be able to resist undoing the buttons of his shirt and running her hand over him so that she could touch his flat brown nipples, trace the outline of every sinew, dip down to touch the forbidden concealed in his trousers.

‘You're right.' He released her and stepped back, pulling open the door and standing aside so that she could precede him. ‘If we stay here much longer they will probably send a search party out to look for us.'

Now that his speech was over he was itching to get back to the situation in hand, she saw. With anyone else he would never have interfered, but she knew why he had chosen to air his opinions to her. However drunk he
had been on that night they had made love with all the passion of his despair and her pent-up longing, and however much of a mistake it had been for him, he had not forgotten. A bond between them had been forged, even though neither of them acknowledged it, hence his misplaced sense of responsibility towards her. She could have wept. Instead she smiled brightly and edged past him towards the main area where they had earlier left the guests eating their hastily prepared breakfast and discussing their situation.

They found them exactly as they had left them and a quick head count indicated that not a single person had vacated the area.

As soon as they entered the room they were surrounded, and while Nick did his utmost to answer their barrage of questions Lucy allowed herself to be pulled to one side by two of the most elderly of their guests, sisters who had come to the island for a rest in the sunshine.

‘It's picking up, isn't it, my dear?' one asked, while the other nodded sagely.

Lucy glanced over her shoulder and decided that it was infinitely better to deal with the Norton sisters than the predominantly brittle collection of wives who had gathered together to voice their complaints that their perfect holiday would be ruined by something as inconsiderate as the weather.

She was aware of Nick informing the men that they could make themselves useful by making sure that the windows to their bedrooms were secure and, for those whose rooms had private plunge pools, checking to see that there was nothing left that could be blown away and destroyed.

‘Most of the staff are doing a last-minute check of the
grounds,' she heard him explaining in a voice that did not allow room for debate.

‘All hands on deck, eh?' one of the men boomed, getting into the swing of things. ‘Hear that, Mattie?' he broke off to inform his wife. ‘Bit of a war-time situation here!'

‘Hardly the same, dear,' she replied, which effectively led to a lively discussion of the privations of the war-time era. Preferable, Lucy smiled to herself, to the doom and gloom that had pervaded the room an hour earlier. She caught Nick's eye and he grinned back at her with mutual understanding.

He walked towards her and informed her that he would be going outside to lend a hand, checking to make sure that everything that wasn't nailed down had been dragged inside.

‘You will be in good hands,' he informed the two old ladies, who were apparently not so old that their eyes couldn't twinkle at the sight of him.

‘Of course we will, dear,' Gracie said, patting Lucy's hand. ‘We're very lucky that you and your wife happened to be holidaying here. I think it's wonderful that you two can take time out from your busy lives to check out your hotels first hand. Don't you agree, Edie?' She beamed at her sister, who beamed at them all in return.

‘Both such capable people,' Edie said. ‘And might I say what an attractive couple you make?'

Lucy opened her mouth to protest and caught a warning glint in Nick's eye.

‘I'll leave you for the moment, darling,' he murmured in a velvety voice, ‘but don't worry, I'll be back before you know it.'

Lucy smiled faintly, excused herself from the two ladies and caught up with him on the way to the door.

‘What are you playing at?' she demanded under her breath.

‘I do not consider it diplomatic to let our guests know the reason we are here,' he hissed back. ‘We get a fair amount of regulars coming here and any hint of a scandal, I assure you, would not do wonders for our trade.'

‘But you could have said that I am just your secretary who's come over here on…on…'

‘Ah, so you get the picture. If not on business, then what…? A passionate, undercover tryst?'

Lucy frantically thought back to what had been said to the group earlier. Not much, apart from the information that Nick owned a chain of exclusive hotels, of which this was one, and he had then moved on to discuss the hurricane, while she had stood alongside him, supporting his statements.