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Perhaps something would happen, though. Some miracle But how
could it? If Darius had the land already he would be building within a
few weeks at the most.
Darius asked her to dance later and although she could not very well
snub him by refusing she gave him that kind of a look that left him in
no doubt that the idea of dancing with him was abhorrent to her. She
had danced with him before .... at her wedding. ,..
He held her close, but not uncomfortably so. She was surprised by his
air of refined consideration for her feelings, and she recalled her
stepfather's words and her mother's about the possibility of his
improving with age. He had improved, in several ways, but he had also
acquired a greed fqr money, a greed that had brought him here to
exploit this lovely little islet and turn it into a popular resort for
tourists. She wanted to cry. He had hurt her once before and now fate
was allowing him to hurt her again. And she could do nothing to stop
him, no one could.
But she would have a good try to stop him buying the land at
Clearwater Cove!
'You're very quiet, Alida.' His words came slowly, softly, close to her
ear.
'I don't feel like talking,' she said brusquely.
'You hate me for coming here and buying that land.' A statement. She
answered truthfully and said yes, she did hate him for buying the land.
'You could have chosen some other island,' she added, looking up into
his face. 'There are larger islands where tourism is already established.'
'I know. I've bought land on several of the Out Islands.'
'You're a speculator, then?'. It was incredible, she thought, just how
great the change had been. He was clearly a confident businessman, a
man who had been around and knew what he was doing.
'The same as your stepfather,' he said smoothly.
She fell silent and they danced their way to the table. But, later, he
asked her again, and this time the meal was finished and another
couple had drifted over to their table, to sit chatting after being
formally introduced to Darius. They were friends of both Alida and
Vance, a man and wife who had saved for years to get the money to
build a small but well-designed villa by the sea. They were
semi-retired and came over to their villa about four times a year,
staying about a month on each occasion.
'You appear to have some very nice friends,' Darius commented,
plainly for something to say, because the silence between them was
fast becoming strained and Alida wondered why he had asked her to
dance in the first place. Somehow, she had the impression that his
action resulted from some strange compulsion which he could not
control.
'You mean the Graysons? Yes, they are nice. We have them to dinner
once or twice while they're here. Mr Grayson has a small retail
business which he's going to pass over to his son shortly and then
they'll retire here, I expect, Mrs Grayson also works in the business,
but she hasn't been well for some months so she might stay on this
time, and let her husband return to Florida on his own.'
'Tell me about some of the other people who live here or have
holiday retreats here.'
She lifted her face, staring at him in some surprise.
'Are you really interested?' she wanted to know, and he shrugged and
said casually that it was something to talk about.
But she went quiet, and after a while he broke the silence again by
suggesting they go out on to the patio for a breath of fresh air. She
stiffened momentarily, then relaxed. There was nothing to be afraid of,
nor was there, any reason why she should not go outside with him. She
was rather warm anyway, and she knew that the air outside was cool
and fresh and perfumed with the heady fragrance of frangipani and
oleander and old-fashioned garden roses.
She agreed, and Darius put a hand beneath her elbow, urging her
forward towards the edge of the dance area and the exit to the patio and
garden where ' a flower-strewn path led down to the beach. The moon
was high, sailing in smooth silver motion through wispy cirrus clouds,
platinum-lined against a deep purple sky.
They stood on the patio side by side and the silence between them
became intense and suddenly everything seemed unreal to Alida,
impossible, something out of a dream. She turned and spoke her
thoughts involuntarily, because she had to say what was in her mind.
'Why are you here? Why has this happened? It was the most
improbable thing that we should ever meet again unless I went to
Cyprus, that was. Yet here you are, in this hotel, on this tiny island so
many miles away from your home. How has it happened, and why?'
she said again.
'Coincidence,' was his cool reply. 'It's a strange thing.'
She was not convinced.
'I'd rather blame fate,' she said, putting out a hand to rest it on the
wrought-iron rail that ran along one side of the patio.
'Blame, Alida?'
'The distressing truth is that you've come into my life to hurt me again.'
He was frowning, she knew, even without looking at him.
'I didn't come here deliberately to hurt you--' He put a hand upon hers
and fell silent a moment. She felt his touch surprisingly cool, like the
caress of a breeze. Within her something stirred, like the quivering
sensation of nerves fluttering, propelled by the subconscious mind.
Unreality again; she must shake herself out of it!---
'Not deliberately; I didn't accuse you of that.' She twisted so that she
had her back to him, but his hand continued to cover hers.
'You couldn't have suffered much from the experience of marriage to
me.' A slight harshness entered his voice, an alien note that raised
resentment within her. 'You weren't married long enough for that.'
Not suffered--How little he knew! Should she tell him? fling it in his
face that he had fathered a freak, a child with water on the brain? The
idea was cast aside at once. She had never deliberately hurt anyone in
her life and she would not start now. All she said was, 'You can't say
how much, or how little, my suffering was, because you are a man and
men don't feel as deeply as women.'
'I admit it,' he said, and she went on,
'It so happens that the wound went deep--' She turned to face him,
drawing her hand from under his. In the thread of candlelight from the
room behind her he saw the strain and darkness in her eyes, but for all
that there was a rare sweetness and serenity about her face, an
appealing attraction in the full sensitive mouth. Watching him, Alida
saw with a little access of surprise and fascination that a muscle was
moving spasmodically in his throat, and she wondered at the reason
for it because it seamed to depict a weakness -which was totally at
variance with the iron-hard grimness of his features the chiselled
jawline and firm determined mouth and chin, the piercing eyes so
intently fixed upon her, their dark depths inscrutable as those of a
pagan god carved in stone. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]