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BOOK 4
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Being Yours BOOK 4
She resolved to try what he had suggested, but not now. I must be getting old, she thought as the spotlights dimmed away and the house lights blinked on. I really feel I've had enough for today. Twenty-nine and I'm past it.But when Paul rejoined her at floor level, his enthusiasm cheered her like a tonic. 'It's fun up there, isn't it? Who works the lights for your shows?''On this one, a couple of sixth-formers.'She stared up at him. For some reason the house lights made his tie seem bluer, and brought out the blue of his eyes. His hair had curled tighter and his olive skin shone a little, from the heat trapped under the roof she supposed, but it looked like sheer good health.The blue eyes sought hers. Thinking how haggard and worn she must look, she refused to meet them. If only he didn't always make her feel at a such a disadvantage.'Supposing we find somewhere to eat?' he suggested gently.At least he hasn't said I look as if I need it, Amy reflected. She knew she did need to e
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I can't remember,' Paul admitted. 'But there are lots of trimmings.''Cauliflower maybe, and broccoli, steamed, not boiled . . .' She broke off, the vision fading. 'Roast beefs a meal for Sunday dinner,' she told him sadly. 'They won't be serving Sunday dinner on a Tuesday evening.''Let's see, shall we?'From the outside the Half Moon was a traditional, cosy Kent pub, white-walled and gabled, standing by itself at the end of the village. Its sign intrigued Amy. Its painted, star-flanked half-moon had flying across it the last creature she would ever have expected to see over the peaceful, Kent-style hills painted below it.'A dragon?' she murmured, staring up at it.'Brings good luck,' Paul told her. 'This way.'After the cool night of the car park, the inn's bar greeted them with a luxurious warmth. As she and Paul picked their way through various groups who sat on squashy black leather benches round low white tables, Amy slowly took in pale walls with gilt-framed seascapes, a grey
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I'm sorry, I forgot to ask if you wanted a pudding,' Paul said. 'Or coffee . . .''Nothing more, thank you.'He paid the bill from an ancient, battered wallet of some soft leather from which the gilt flourish of his initials had almost worn away. The waitress, apparently satisfied with her tip, picked up their plates and departed.'Right.' He put away his wallet, and started to rise. 'Let's go . . .''Wait.' Amy stayed firmly where she was. 'I . . . I'm sorry I've left this till now,' she began, still awkward from his coolness of a few moments ago. 'I suppose it's because I've had a lot on my mind . . .''You want to pay your share?''Something like that,' she said, relieved to have the words spoken. 'How did you guess that was what I wanted to say?''I've had supper with one or two women before.''Oh.' Amy wondered why she should find that so surprising. He was an attractive man, of course he would know lots of women. She badly wanted to hear if he was currently seeing anyone, but e
Being Yours BOOK 4
'Does he really live alone in this great place?' Paul asked.'I agree it's miles too big for one person,' Amy said. 'He doesn't use half the rooms . . .' She broke off, hating to show that she knew the house from the inside, hating herself for knowing it. As she limped along at Paul's side, treasuring the warmth of his hand round hers, she wondered why her knee should suddenly feel so much worse. Could fear really have such a specific effect? But she wouldn't be afraid, she wouldn't.'He inherited it from grandparents, I think,' she added, trying to keep her mind on everyday things. 'He says it has happy memories of his childhood.'There, that helped, picturing Robert as a little boy with adoring grandparents. But the relief lasted only until she lifted her gaze to the broad window above and to the right of the entrance, the window of the bedroom where . . .No, she wouldn't think about that. Trying to keep her mind away from it, she stared instead at the little niche, sharp-edged in
Being Yours BOOK 4
'I'm sorry we've interrupted your dusting,' she said, polite as a visiting vicar. 'I don't suppose you get much time for chores, with your busy life.''I'd done most of it,' Sarah admitted ungraciously. 'You should have seen the dust and cobwebs - it was like Miss Havisham's wedding.''It . . . it certainly looks nice now,' Amy offered. 'Very welcoming.' She spoke from an half-conscious desire to conciliate, but quickly realized that what she said was true. Though the room might not be to everyone's taste it had a timeless, traditional charm which eased the eye and the spirit. With the fire lit and a trolley of homemade cakes and scones, it would be an agreeable place to be invited for afternoon tea.Sarah acknowledged the compliment only with an indeterminate noise, but dipped her head and regarded Amy from below thick, dark, untrimmed eyebrows.The idea of tea inspired Amy to another gambit. 'You said you were baking?''Sponge cake,' Sarah answered.I knew it, Amy thought, amused in
Being Yours BOOK 4
He's not such a conventional dreamboat, Amy thought, but he's good to look at and much, much stronger.Especially now, when Robert was giving that phoney laugh at the mention of the police. Remembering how contemptuously he had always spoken of her drama lessons, Amy reflected as so often how much he could have learnt from just one of them. He really was a lousy actor.Tolice? I don't think so,' he said. 'Anyway, who the hell are you?'He strode into the circle of chairs round the fireplace, turned his back on the empty grate, and belligerently straddled the hearthrug facing the couch. With his hands half-clenched at his side he loomed over the seated Paul as if he might any minute pull him up and knock him down.'What makes you think,' he demanded, 'that you can come into my house and threaten my . . . my wife like this?''I'm one of the Clarks,' Paul responded, coolly stating his interest.Robert's mouth set in a mulish line. 'I don't know what you're talking about.''Oh, come on .
Being Yours BOOK 4
'This afternoon?' In his relief he slumped back like an unstrung puppet. 'I was in a meeting all afternoon. Two till five.''Who else was at it?' Amy asked.'Julius Drew.' Robert sat up straight again, and brought out the name of Lang and Drews' chairman with a certain grandeur. 'And his son Tommy. And some of the other branch managers.''Phew! Thank goodness for that.' Sarah demonstrated her relief by fanning herself, a huge gesture that involved her entire forearm.She does everything on a big scale, Amy thought, and just as she feels it. No wonder she loves animals, she's as instinctive as they are. It came to her that Sarah's admiration for Robert's looks was another aspect of her feeling for animals. She appreciated him much as she would have appreciated the beauty of a horse, say, or a dog.'I never thought those stuffed shirts at Lang and Drews would be good for anything,' Sarah continued, 'but I see now they have their uses.'Amy wondered how even she dared say such things in
Being Yours BOOK 4
Suddenly she realized he was asking her a question. So he hadn't lost interest after all. He was asking where they went from here, which showed he thought they were going somewhere. I've got to get this right, she told herself desperately, and did her best to brush away the cobwebs of fatigue.'I . . . suppose I was sort of wondering that myself.''I could just take you to Stribble . . .''To Stribble?''It's where you live,' he reminded her with gentle sarcasm.'Yes.'Her new hope collapsed like a burst balloon. She had been wrong. He didn't want to talk about their future together, just about the simple, practical matter of where he should drive next. He wanted to know where he should take her before he put her down and left her, presumably forever.'That's right, please take me to Stribble,' she said, trying and failing to keep the leaden flatness from her voice. 'Thanks to you, I don't think I've anything more to fear from the Dawlishes.''Not from them, no.' He made no move to st
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Being Yours BOOK 9
Lohano Tiki drove his bright yellow Ferrari up the long gravel incline and parked in front of the huge pillared portico that was the entrance to the Black Orchid Palace.He climbed out of the car, and quickly ducked down to check his hair in the wing-mirror.Good. Nicely wind-ruffled and carefree.A handsome, square-jawed face looked back at him, tanned a deeper colour by the desert sun.By the Nevadan desert sun, to be exact.His shirt was dazzling white and casually opened at the throat to reveal a strong dark column of neck and the first few wisps of dark chest hair.His jacket was white linen, faultlessly tailored, his slacks a dark green. His loafers came from Rome. His only piece of jewellery was a modest, leather-strapped watch from Switzerland.He was dressing to impress Koki’Hana as much as his rebellious and strong-willed granddaughter.He sprang lithely up the four rounded steps, that were spread out like a fan and led to the huge, impressive, carved oak doors of the palace
Being Yours BOOK 9
George Dixon watched the large crocodile of people emerge from the intermediary house by the east wall.As the owner of fifteen per cent of the Orchid House, he’d been asked to attend the full day’s festivities, of course, but he’d only just decided to put in an appearance.It was three-fifteen p.m.The extra waiters and waitresses hired for the lunch had been circulating in the grounds all afternoon, laden with trays of champagne, fruit juice and little nibbles. He hijacked a waiter and grabbed a glass of cold Moet et Chandon and a few smoked salmon pastries that melted in the mouth.He was lounging against the fountain that was the centre-piece of the outer grounds. Round, made of stone, and full of fish and water-lilies, it shot a fountain of water nearly thirty feet into the air.It was cooler there.George didn’t much like the heat. He was a small but very fat man, with a round belly and short, stocky legs. He could only imagine what the heat must be like inside the hot-houses.G
Being Yours BOOK 9
King Koki’Hana reached the end of the welcoming line, and finally shook hands with the last person to be presented - a tall, thin Portuguese man, whom Electra had introduced as their head groundsman. It was his job to keep the gardens outside the glasshouses looking good.Koki’Hana quite liked meeting the people who made businesses tick. Oahu, like all the islands, was a large ethnic mix of people - Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, Polynesians, Portuguese and American. Here at the Orchid House, he was pleased to see that Electra Stapleton’s only criterion for picking her staff was their having the right qualifications for the job. He operated a similar policy where his own business affairs were concerned.‘Well, Alii Koki’Hana, I’m sure you can see now why the Orchid House is such a success,’ Electra said quietly. ‘My staff are simply the best in the world.’ She said with it quiet pride but total sincerity.King Koki’Hana nodded. ‘So I see. And you are rapidly expanding, I underst
Being Yours BOOK 9
Bevis expertly aligned the small light aircraft with the portable runway lights Electra had lit ten minutes ago, and lightly touched down. He taxied neatly to the end of the runway, turned, and then parked the plane near a stand of hua trees, where it was partially hidden.He went through his checklist, making sure all the systems were shut down, then locked the cockpit, grabbed his overnight bag, and jumped lithely to the ground.At thirty-eight, he looked a good ten years younger, and still retained the well-built but fat-free body that would be the envy of many men his age. His short hair was still as dark as a raven’s wing, with not a hint of grey at the temples.He gathered up the landing lights, turning them off as he went, and stowed them away in their small wooden shed, hidden in the small copse of trees, padlocking the door after him.During the short walk to Electra’s luxurious bungalow, ‘Makai Hale’, he ran a tired hand through his hair. It was good to have a break from the
Being Yours BOOK 9
Electra stroked the damp copper hair off his forehead and looked around desperately. There was only the diminishing storm, darkness and fear. She couldn’t move him - she wasn’t strong enough to get him into her car. Besides., she didn’t know if she should move him, and wished she knew more basic First Aid.She felt as if she’d been cradling the stranger in her arms forever, but it had actually been less than five minutes since the lightning strike.The rain had been gradually dwindling, and now had stopped altogether, but she could still hear the distant rumble of thunder, away to the east, as the storm headed out to sea.Suddenly another sound began to impinge on her mind, and she looked up hopefully as a small set of lights dipped and disappeared in the distance.A car! At last!Coming from the same direction as she had been. Somewhat belatedly, she realized her own car was still blocking the road, and she carefully lowered the stranger’s head to the ground and got to her feet.Her
Being Yours BOOK 9
Hawaii, or the Big Island as it was known to the locals, played host to fewer tourists than its sister island Oahu, but boasted similar moutainous lush greenery, great surfing and multi-cultural dining, all with the added bonus of spectacular black beaches, courtesy of the volcanoes.A mountainous land of plantations, myth and Polynesian mystique, it slumbered like a giant emerald in the vast blueness of the Pacific ocean.However, Hilo, its major city, was as big, busy and cosmopolitan as any city in the developed world.The Big Island, like all those in the chain, also had its fair share of hotels and tourist resorts, but, unlike Oahu, it still relied heavily on the more traditional sources of money, such as fruit plantations and coffee, to fill its coffers.Near the pretty village of Kailua, set well back in the coolness of the hills, away from the hustle and bustle of hotels and shops, lay the impressive and sprawling edifice of the Black Orchid Palace.No higher than two storeys,
Being Yours BOOK 9
Electra Stapleton turned the last page of the contract she was reading, and initialled it in the right-hand corner. She’d made a few important changes, and she made a mental note to herself to get one of her lawyers to draw up a revised draft.Not that Nationwide Flowers Inc. would complain. She’d given them all they wanted, but had cleverly slipped in a few little goodies that would be beneficial to the Orchid House too.For instance, ensuring that their chain of florists used one of the Orchid House’s flowered wrapping sheets whenever they sold one of their orchids. The free publicity that would generate would save her hundreds of thousands of dollars. And cost Nationwide Flowers not a penny.She was a bit worried about the shipment date, though; it was rather tight. She reached for her computer keyboard and punched up the details on the company’s regular transporters. Before she’d taken over, the Orchid House had had only one - a privately owned aeroplane company that had shipped a
Being Yours BOOK 9
Haldane Fox glanced up as the oddly melodious 4 ping 5 echoed around the cabin.‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We are now beginning our descent to Honolulu Airport. Please observe the “No Smoking” signs, and “Fasten Seat-belts” signs. Your cabin crew will be around to help anyone having difficulty with their belts. I trust you enjoyed your flight with us, and wish you all a pleasant stay on Oahu. Aloha'Haldane sighed wearily and reached for his seatbelt. It had been a long flight, from London to New York for a short stopover, then on to LA for yet another stopover before the long haul across the mighty Pacific Ocean to the fabled Hawaiian Islands.He yawned widely, trying to shrug off the fast-approaching affects of the dreaded jet-lag.A stewardess, the same one who’d been serving him throughout the flight across the pacific, lingered by the side of his seat.‘Everything alright, sir?’The soft voice made him spin his head and look up. The stewardess’s smile caught in her th
Being Yours BOOK 8
By the time they arrived at the hotel, the security gate had been forced open, and a fire engine and two police cars were in the parking area. Apart from the fact that the firemen had broken down the main door, to all other outward appearances the Alcaszar appeared to be untouched. It wasn’t enough to stop Matt from leaping from the car and running across to the main doors where a group of firemen was standing, though.By the time Alex joined them, however, he appeared to be calm. “It’s only damaged the courtyard,” he told her. “Apparently it started among the wood that was stacked there, probably caused by a careless cigarette butt. They say it’s probably been smoldering for hours.”From the tone of his voice Alex knew immediately that he didn’t believe it was accidental but that he wasn’t prepared to talk to the police about his suspicions. She glanced up at him. His eyes had darkened to the steely gray that she now knew from experience was a sign that he was very angry. She took hi
