Authors: Sara Craven
A small triumphant smile curved her mouth. Oh, but she'd make him sorry! After the big build-up she was planning, the final let-down would be all the greater. And now that she was warned about his tactics, her resistance would be impregnable. After all, she knew all about freezing off unwanted advances, she was an expert on the subject and Matt Lincoln would never find her defenceless again.
She stared at the numbers on the memo board, memorising them, rehearsing the moment when she would ring him and tell him that she was prepared to go with him. Sacrificing herself for Alison, naturally, she thought ironically, but underneath her words there'd be just the tiniest hint that she hadn't been able to help herself.
But would he believe her? Would he really be arrogant enough to think that one kiss had turned her on so much that she wanted to share more than just a touching of lips with him?
Well, she would just have to see, but she didn't anticipate any real difficulty. She could make him think she'd been intrigued by his audacious suggestion, and he would think that her conquest was as good as achieved. He wasn't used to rejection, and if she played her cards right, it was the last thing he would be anticipating.
I'll be shy, she decided with relish, and just a little tremulous, so that he won't push too hard at first. And when he finds my door locked I can always tell him that strange hotels make me nervous. With luck, I could keep him dangling for days—and nights.
She finished her coffee. She wouldn't ring right away, of course. She'd leave it until the last minute so that he'd know the kind of heart-searching she'd had to go through, she thought, stretching luxuriously. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror opposite, saw the smooth length of thigh and leg in the tight jeans, the thrust of her breasts against the sweatshirt that her movement had produced, and remembered the way Matt Lincoln had looked at her.
She straightened abruptly, colour tingeing her face. She knew exactly what that long, calculated assessment had meant—that he was undressing her mentally, imagining her naked, and the thought made her stir restlessly, aware of an odd heat spreading through her body.
He would not be very pleased, she thought, to discover that imagination was all he would be left with, and it occurred to her forcibly that she could be playing with fire.
She stood up, resolutely shrugging the moment of doubt away.
So is he, she promised silently. So is he.
In the end it was simplicity itself. Matt was clearly surprised at her flattering words, but he covered well, she had to admit grudgingly.
She had expected some kind of interrogation about her motives, but none was forthcoming. Instead he had sounded almost brisk as he asked about her passport and told her the time and other details of the flight they would be taking.
'We're going to St Antoine,' he added. 'It's not a very sophisticated place, so you won't need a great deal of gear.'
'Oh.' Kate digested that. She'd expected they would be going to Barbados or Antigua—one of the islands geared to the tourist industry.
'Disappointed?'
'Certainly not,' she said brightly.. 'I—I'm sure it will be fascinating.'
'I'll do my best to make 'it so.' She heard the amusement simmering under his tone, and scowled at the receiver in her hand, if you've got a map, look in the region of St Lucia, preferably with a magnifying glass.' He paused, I'm going to be pretty tied up between now and then, so I think it's safer if I say we'll meet at the airport, somewhere round the flight desk. They like you to check in about an hour beforehand.'
Kate was taken aback. She'd expected he would want to see her and had marshalled her excuses accordingly.
She said coolly, 'Fine. I'll be there.' She hesitated. 'What are you going to tell Alison?'
'I'll think of something. It won't be a problem.' His voice was almost casual, she thought furiously. Not for him, no. Off with the old love, and on with the new, or so he thought. The fact that he'd raised all kinds of hopes in Alison and was now going to disappoint her was a matter of indifference to him.
Uncaring swine! she raged silently.
Suddenly suspicious, she said, 'You don't intend to tell her the truth, I hope?'
'That you're going in her place? It would hardly be tactful, but perhaps you're into total honesty.'
I'm into the exact opposite, she assured him under her breath.
She said, 'I'd really rather she knew nothing about it. In fact I'd rather no one knew.' She hesitated, I don't make a habit of this sort of thing...'
'Then I'll have to make sure it's special.' Matt's voice deepened huskily, and she swallowed, aware of a returning unease as she contemplated just what she was letting herself in for. 'Oh, and Kate,' he continued after a pause, 'I meant what I said about travelling light. Don't bother with unnecessary refinements—like nightdresses, for instance. I'm sure you'll find the nights on St Antoine quite warm enough.'
She was thankful he couldn't see her, because she was blushing.
She managed to keep her voice light. 'I'll bear that in mind.'
'Do that,' he said. 'See you at the airport.' And rang off.
Kate would have liked to have wrenched the telephone off the wall and jumped on it.
She began to break the news gradually to family and friends that she was going away for a while, talking with deliberate vagueness about off-season rates to Spain and Greece, emphasising that her plans were fluid and she had no idea exactly how long she would be away.
Deception was absurdly easy, she discovered miserably. Everyone took it for granted that she was entitled to a holiday after a busy year, and no one probed or asked awkward questions, although Clive had verged on the reproachful, dropping hints that if she'd waited a while he might have been able to go with her.
At least she'd been spared the hassle of dissuading him about that, she thought unhappily.
The worst experience had been facing Alison. She felt so guilty when she encountered her sister-in-law that she was sure it would show in her face. Her guilt increased when she saw how miserable Alison looked.
Matt's rejection must have hit her hard, she thought, but surely it was better for it to happen now before any real harm was done.
She waited to see if anything was said about Alison's return to work, but the subject wasn't mentioned, and at last when they were alone in her mother's kitchen for a few minutes she raised it rather diffidently herself.
Alison shrugged, 'I haven't made any definite plans yet.' She bent her head, and Kate saw that her pretty face was painfully flushed. 'But I've decided against that trip I mentioned. It—it wouldn't be fair on Jon.'
It was a gallant attempt at face-saving, Kate thought wryly.
She said, 'I'm sure you're doing the right thing, Ally.'
And wished she could think the same about herself.
Because to say she was having second thoughts was putting it mildly. Every time she passed a travel agent, or saw a picture of a sun-kissed beach fringed by palms in a magazine, or even an advertisement for swimwear, she was assailed by all kinds of qualms about what she was doing.
It had occurred to her more than once that she didn't have to go through with it. Now that Alison knew she wasn't going, the problem was solved. She could pretend to be ill, she thought, or simply not turn up. He wouldn't miss the flight to come looking for her, and if there were recriminations on his return, she could say she'd mistaken the time of their departure.
She was amazed at the extent of her own deviousness. And I used to be such a truthful person, she thought ruefully. Another black mark against Matt Lincoln.
But as the days slid away with frightening rapidity, she found she was retrieving the lightweight case she used on trips abroad from the big storage cupboard on the landing, and beginning to assemble, at least in her mind, the things she would take with her.
She didn't need to do any shopping. The bikinis and leisure clothes she'd bought for the Greek holiday were still as good as new, and this was just as well, because she didn't want any large items of expenditure cutting into her savings. She wanted to have enough money to allow her to hand Matt the cost of her ticket at least when they came to the parting of the ways on St Antoine.
He might be out of luck, and out of temper, but there was no reason for him to be out of pocket too, she told herself.
But she didn't understand fully why she was going, except that everyone was expecting her to be away, and she would undoubtedly have to explain why she was still around. Either that, or she would have to take one of the trips to Spain or Greece that she was supposed to be contemplating.
It appeared that she was bound to go somewhere—so it might as well be the Caribbean, she told herself, and if a warning voice in her head suggested that she should enquire more closely into her reasoning, she crushed it down.
But as she approached the flight desk at the airport and saw Matt's tall figure, her nerve almost faltered. Panic settled like a leaden ball in her throat, and she was sorely tempted to turn and run before he saw her.
Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, he had turned and was lifting his hand in greeting.
Kate gripped the handle of her case more tightly and walked slowly forward, trying to appear composed. She had a score or two to settle, she reminded herself. Wasn't that worth a little aggro?
She was aware she was looking her best in a cream, figure-skimming dress buttoning from neck to hem down the front, her chestnut hair drawn chastely back from her face by tortoiseshell combs, and Matt Lincoln's smile was frankly appreciative as he came forward to take her case from her.
'Beautiful and punctual,' he said softly. 'I can hardly believe my good fortune.'
Patronising pig! Kate thought, lowering her lashes demurely. Make the most of it while you can.
She waited passively while the formalities of their trip were completed. Eventually Matt came across to her.
'We have some time before our flight is called,' he said, glancing at his watch. 'Shall we have a drink?'
'Coffee would be fine.' While she was anywhere near Matt Lincoln, she intended to keep her consumption of alcohol to an absolute minimum.
His brows rose, and he was laughing. 'Are you going to drink it or throw it, this time?'
'Drink it.' She permitted herself a small smile in response. That was a pretty silly thing to do, wasn't it? My only excuse is that—well, I suppose I was knocked sideways a little by your sudden appearance.'
'I know what you mean.' His glance was dry. 'I felt exactly the same the previous night. However, everything turns out for the best in this best of all possible worlds.'
'Yes,' Kate hesitated. 'You must have been surprised to get my call...'
'Amazed,' he said. 'And naturally delighted. Some time you can tell me what caused the change of heart.'
'That's quite simple,' she said swiftly. 'You wanted to know how deeply committed I was to helping Jon and Alison—well, this is the answer.'
'The only one?' He smiled suddenly, the blue eyes caressing her, and she felt the breath catch in her throat at the sheer force of his attraction.
She said, 'That's a leading question,' and looked away hurriedly.
'I specialise in them,' said Matt. 'Here's the coffee-shop, but I can't guarantee what the liquid they serve here will taste like.'
The place was crowded and heads were turning as they walked to the counter. Kate didn't kid herself that the people were looking at her, either. Matt was instantly recognisable, she realised.
She sat at a table and watched him fetch the coffee. While he was paying, two young girls came up and asked for his autograph, and he coped with the request with courteous patience.
'Sorry about that,' he said as he put the cups down on the table. 'It doesn't really go with maintaining a low profile. And that is what you wanted.'
'Yes.' Kate stared down at the surface of the table, tracing a meaningless pattern on it with her forefinger. 'This—this hasn't been easy for me. I mean—we're strangers.'
'That's something this trip is designed to cure.' He sounded faintly amused.
'Isn't it rather a drastic way of getting acquainted?' she murmured, still not meeting his eyes.
'I didn't have a great deal of luck with the more conventional methods,' he reminded her silkily.
And your luck hasn't changed by one iota, Kate thought with satisfaction as she drank her coffee.
She had never known time pass so slowly. Usually when she was waiting for her flight to be called, she wandered about exploring the airport, browsing round the bookstall, letting the excitement, the anticipation of the trip build up. She liked watching her fellow passengers too, and sketching them sometimes in the little book she invariably carried in her shoulder bag for the purpose. It was with her now, but she doubted whether she was capable of drawing even a line.
This time she was the one being watched, she realised, and envied too. The lucky lady with Matt Lincoln. She just prayed she wouldn't be seen by anyone who would recognise her.
It was almost a relief to find herself on board the aircraft. Almost but not quite. She fumbled with the seatbelt, thinking, That's it—no turning back now.'
As the plane began to taxi, she closed her eyes, sinking back into her seat.
'Nervous?' asked Matt.
'Yes,' she said. But not of flying, she added silently. She was acutely, frighteningly aware of every inch of the strong lean body relaxed in the adjoining seat, so close that it was difficult to move without brushing against him.
'Don't be afraid,' he said. He picked up her hand, clutching tensely at the armrest, and touched it with his lips. Kate had to bite her tongue to stop herself from crying out, from flinching away from him. He was frowning a little, his face concerned. 'They'll be serving drinks soon.' He gave her a faint smile. 'I recommend a stiff belt, or even two.'
She nodded wanly. Nine hours to St Lucia, she thought, and then the change-over to the smaller plane which ferried people between the islands, and every minute spent with her senses screaming at this unwanted proximity. How was she going to bear it?