The Far Side of Paradise (16 page)

If she did, he’d probably send her home.

Making love with him had been like setting off into dangerous, unknown territory with no map, no provisions and no equipment, furnished only with hope. Last night it had seemed simple and right. Today she was more wary. If she wanted to keep her heart free and unscathed, she suspected she should be making plans to get back to New Zealand.

And knew she wouldn’t.

Abruptly, she said, ‘You already know that I found you very attractive right from the start. But until we changed the rules yesterday I did my best to regard you as my employer.’

‘And now?’

He was ruthlessly pushing for something from her, an answer to a question she didn’t understand.

Half exasperated, half distressed, she said, ‘I have
no claim on you, just as you have none on me. We both know this is a temporary arrangement between us. If you want to forget about it, tell me and we’ll call it quits.’

And held her breath, feeling as though her whole future depended on his answer.

Cade said in a voice that brooked no argument, ‘I shouldn’t have started this out here. We’ll talk once we’re back in the
fale.’

In the cool dimness of the living room he glanced at the pile of papers on the table and then, blue eyes hooded, examined her face. ‘I want to make sure that the fact that I’m your employer had no bearing on your charming surrender last night.’

‘I haven’t been to bed with any other of my employers,’ she said stiffly, obscurely hurt.

‘I didn’t intend to insult you,’ he said, his voice hard. ‘I certainly didn’t mean to imply that you slept with all—or any of—your employers. I just wanted to make absolutely sure that you didn’t feel pressured into making love.’

Taryn shook her head vigorously. ‘No.’

And stopped, because anything more might reveal too much. But couldn’t he tell that she’d surrendered wholeheartedly, with everything she had, everything she was?

Once again that flinty gaze probed hers for long heart-stopping seconds, until he seemed to relax and drew her towards him. Almost abstractedly, he murmured, ‘You’re the only employee I’ve ever made love to.’

His head came down and he kissed her throat, saying against her skin, ‘You taste like the sea, sun-warmed and salty, scented with flowers and the wind.’

Unable to hold back, she turned her face into his and
they kissed, and he found the knot of her
pareu
and it dropped in a wet heap on the floor, leaving her only in her bikini. Cade made a deep noise in his throat and his arms locked around her. Without further resistance, she lifted her face for his kiss, body pressed to body as desire—torrid and compelling—flashed between them.

‘And you taste of you,’ she said on a sigh when he finally lifted his head.

Taryn expected him to loosen his arms, but he didn’t. Resting his cheek on her wet hair, he said, ‘Not regretting anything?’

Regret? How could she regret the most wonderful experience of her life so far? Last night had been utterly magical, a revelation to her.

Was being a good lover a talent, something instinctive? How many women had Cade practised with to gain that mastery? Not only had he divined which parts of her were acutely sensitive to his touch, but he’d been slow and subtle and erotically compelling, seducing her until she’d had no thought for anything beyond the enchantment he worked on her willing body and mind.

‘Not a thing,’ she said huskily.

He smiled dangerously and let her go, but his grip slid down to fasten around her wrists so he could lift her hands to his mouth.

Tiny shivers chased the length of her spine as he kissed each palm. Be careful, some part of her warned. Be very careful. You don’t want to lose your heart to him. Remember, he might want you but it’s not going to last.

His tone amused, he said, ‘Then we’re suited in every way,’ and kissed her properly again.

Joy fountained through Taryn. Once again, she felt
the swift, piercing surge of desire, brazen as the tropical sun, and this time she had no forebodings, no fear about whether or not she was going to be able to respond. This time she could make love to Cade with complete confidence that the same rapture that had taken her to paradise the night before was waiting for her again.

‘You’ll get all wet,’ she said against his throat.

‘Mmm,’ he murmured. ‘Somehow, keeping dry is not a priority right now.’

‘What is?’

He looked into her face with half closed eyes and the fierce smile of a hunter. ‘Making it to a bed.’

They got there, but only just, and later, in a dreamy daze as she listened to him breathe beside her, Taryn decided she’d never been so happy before, never felt so completely at one with the world.

She drifted into sleep, but stirred when he got up. Opening her eyes, she smiled mistily at him, that flame of awareness beating high within her again at the sight of him, lean and bronzed and beautifully made, as powerfully built as he was desirable.

He dropped a kiss on her mouth but, before she could reach out and pull him down, he straightened. ‘Dinner,’ he said succinctly.

‘Help, yes!’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Tonight they were having dinner with the Chapmans.

Gaze darkening, Cade said, ‘Don’t move—try not to even breathe—until I get out of the room.’

Thrilled by her effect on him, she obediently froze.

Laughing softly, he left, scooping up his clothes as he went.

I’m in love with him,
she thought, suddenly assailed
by a wild mixture of apprehension and delight.
I’m in love with Cade Peredur.

No, that was just foolish post-coital bliss scrambling her brain. She straightened her shoulders; she was perfectly content with the rules they’d made. Love had nothing to do with this. Eventually, they’d go their separate ways and she’d grieve for a while and miss him like crazy.

She’d gone into their affair with her eyes open and when it ended she’d get on with real life, grateful to Cade for showing her that she was a normal woman who could make love with abandon and joy.

So she’d accept this fantasy interlude for what it was—an enchantment that would end once they left the seductively sensuous lure of the tropics. And, if all went well, she might one day find a man she could both desire and truly love, one who’d love her.

Dinner with the Chapmans was fun; Fleur was an excellent hostess, Luke an interesting man with the same inbuilt authority that marked Cade. Afterwards, they drank coffee and watched the moon rise over the ocean, and Cade mentioned her parents.

‘They do magnificent work,’ Luke Chapman said. ‘I believe they’ve just acquired a new yacht.’

Taryn nodded. ‘A much bigger one. They’ve had it converted into a sort of mini-hospital and it’s working well, but Dad’s next project is to find the finance for a shore-based hospital on one of the outlying islands. And, after that, they want to set up a trust that will help local people study as nurses and doctors. He wants to make sure that when he and Mum retire—if they ever do—they leave a working system behind.’

‘Big ambitions,’ Luke observed.

‘And expensive ones,’ Cade supplied. ‘Where do they find the money to keep going?’

Taryn laughed, then sighed. ‘So far it’s been mainly donations. Dad’s quite shameless when it comes to asking for it.’

‘That’s a chancy, hand-to-mouth way for a charity—especially a private one—to exist. Setting up the new yacht must have cost them a packet,’ Cade said.

‘They were lucky—they got a big donation at just the right time.’ Sadness struck her at the thought of Peter, who’d been so insistent on donating it.

And, emboldened by the Chapmans’ obvious interest, she looked directly at their host. ‘They want something along the lines of the health service you have here.’

Which led to further discussion. The Chapmans made no promises but, as she and Cade left, Luke said, ‘I’ll give you the name of the man who runs our health service. Your father could do worse than get in touch with him.’

Out of earshot, Cade said thoughtfully, ‘You’re a good daughter.’

Flushing, Taryn replied, ‘My parents deserve all the help they can get.’

He said nothing more and she wondered whether he too was thinking of helping her parents. If so, perhaps they might keep in touch.

Don’t,
she told herself in sudden anguish. Don’t hope for anything more. It wasn’t going to happen, and wishing for it would only make it harder to recover.

Because now her heart was involved. Oh, she’d tried so hard to ignore it but, as they’d talked over the coffee table, she’d looked across at Cade and
known
she loved him. The knowledge had pierced her like a sword—
transcendent yet shattering. Life without Cade stretched before her, bleak as a desert.

She looked up into a sky so brightly lit by the moon the stars were tiny pinpricks against black velvet. No sign of fruit bats, she thought wistfully.

If it hadn’t been for that low-flying one, would Cade have ever kissed her?

Another question she couldn’t answer.

Back in the
fale,
Cade glanced at his watch. ‘I’m expecting a call from London in a few minutes, so I’ll say goodnight now.’

It was like a blow to the heart. She felt her expression freeze and said hastily, ‘Oh! Goodnight then.’

He surprised her by kissing her lightly, an arm round her shoulder holding her without passion.

‘Sleep well,’ he said and left her, walking into his room.

But, once there, he stood indecisively for a few moments, looking around as though he’d never seen the room before.

Every instinct was telling him to get out. He was in too deep and tonight he’d slipped over some invisible boundary, one he hadn’t known existed. The whole evening had been—he struggled to find the right word and could only come up with
satisfying.
Satisfying in some deep, unplumbed way that scared the hell out of him.

He was falling and, if he didn’t stop the process, he had no idea where he’d land. Damn it, it had been a quiet dinner with a couple he called friends, yet for some reason he’d accessed a level of—again, he searched for a word, finally settling on
contentment
—that still clung to him.

Contentment! He got to his feet and paced the room, angular face dark with frustration. Contentment was for
the old, those with no further ambitions to pursue. He had plenty.

Yet, sitting under that voluptuous moon, watching the way its aura cooled Taryn’s red hair and turned her skin to satin, listening to the low music of her laughter, he’d found himself thinking that life could hold nothing more for him.

Making love to her had been the most stupid thing he’d ever done.

No, bringing her to Fala’isi was that; their lovemaking had only compounded a problem he’d refused to face. Still didn’t want to face.

There was only one thing to do. Before he lost his head and did something irretrievable, he had to tell her who he was, and what he wanted from her.

Surprisingly, Taryn slept well, waking next morning to sunlight and the muted coo of the doves against the slow thunder of the distant waves against the reef. And an aching emptiness because last night Cade had left her alone.

When she emerged, Cade was standing beside the pool, talking into his phone. He glanced up when he heard her, nodded and strode to the other end of the pool, the tension in his powerful back and lean, strong body warning her that something had gone wrong.

The terrace table had been set for breakfast for two, so she poured herself some coffee and spooned passionfruit pulp over golden slices of papaya.

She couldn’t hear what Cade was saying, but his tone echoed his body language. He was angry.

When he strode over she asked a little warily, ‘Trouble?’

‘Problems.’ Dismissing them, he sat down opposite
her and examined her face, his expression flinty. ‘All right?’

‘Of course,’ she said automatically. Much more than all right, in fact. Her heart was singing and every cell in her body responded with pleasure to the sight of him. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘No—just a business rival thinking that being on the other side of the world means I’m not keeping my eye on the kitchen. However, there is something I must tell you,’ he said shortly. ‘Did Peter Cooper ever tell you he had a brother?’

Taryn’s spoon clattered into her plate. Searching his face, she swallowed. Nothing showed in the grey-blue eyes but an icy determination. ‘Yes,’ she answered automatically.

‘Did you know I am—was—his brother?’

Taryn had never fainted in her life but, as she felt the colour drain from her skin, she thought dizzily that this was going to be the first time.

He said abruptly, ‘Put your head down.’ And, when she didn’t move, he got to his feet and swivelled her chair around so he could push her head below her heart. The heavy, sick feeling beneath her ribs dissipated but she couldn’t think—couldn’t even make sense of the words jumbling through her mind.

After a few seconds the dizziness faded and she croaked, ‘Let me up—I’m all right.’

‘Sure?’ He released her, watching her as she straightened.

After one look at his controlled face, she asked inanely, ‘How can you be his brother? You don’t have the same name.’

He shrugged. ‘I went to the Coopers when I was five. Peter was born four years later.’

Taryn blinked, her mind seizing on this because she didn’t dare—not yet—ask why he hadn’t told her right at the start who he was.

‘I see.’ Heart twisting at the thought of what he must have endured as a child, she concentrated with fierce determination on the cluster of hibiscus flowers in the centre of the table.

She’d never be able to enjoy their showy vividness again without remembering this moment.
Peter’s brother.
Cade was Peter’s foster-brother.

Taryn believed in coincidences, but not where Cade was concerned.

Cade made things happen. He must have known that she and Peter had been friends.

Had he deliberately tracked her down? Was his love-making a sham?
Why?

Pain sliced through her, so intense she hugged herself, trying to force the mindless agony away. When she trusted herself to speak again, she asked quietly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me this when we first met?’