Flight of Fantasy

He had totally misread her tears. For once, they weren’t for the child she was capable of bearing but dared not, but for a future which was also beyond her reach.

‘There’s a...a genetic problem,’ she demurred. Some of the options he’d mentioned were available to her, but it would mean carrying another woman’s child. It could never be her own flesh and blood, carrying her own genes. The risk to the child was just too great.

‘I’ve considered the options and they aren’t for me,’ she said flatly. ‘Do you mind if we change the subject?’

‘Of course not.’ He sounded almost gentle, she thought in astonishment. Damn it, she didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. It was easier to fight him when he thought she was as ruthlessly ambitious as himself.

She forced a smile, blinking to clear her blurred vision. ‘Well, at least we’ve achieved our aim. We’ve gotten to know each other better so our husband and wife act should be much more convincing.’

His eyes hardened as he withdrew his hand. ‘It will need to be. Bob Hamilton is checking in tomorrow morning. He’s joining us at breakfast.’

Panic started to grip her. ‘So early? I was hoping for more time.’

‘We still have this evening,’ he reminded her. ‘I’ve made reservations in the Oceana Room for seven o’clock.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Which just gives us time to change.’

What did one wear to a dinner with one’s husband of less than a day? Eden thought when he left her alone. Aware that dressing for dinner was favoured in luxury resorts such as this one, she had included some evening wear in her luggage. But she had imagined herself dining alone or with other single travellers, not with someone as formidable as Slade Benedict.

In the end, she chose a shimmering jumpsuit whose elasticised waist flattered her trim figure. The glitter-trimmed blouson top was suitably dressy while the narrow legs of the trousers emphasised her slim ankles and high-heeled silver evening sandals. In deference to the tropical climate, she used the lightest make-up, dusting her eyelids with silver shadow to complement her metallic drop earrings. Pouting to apply her lipstick, she appraised herself frankly. If she wasn’t up to his usual standard in women, he had only himself to blame for choosing her.

When he saw her his blatantly appreciative look dispelled any such doubts. ‘Very nice,’ he murmured, his eyes warm as he took in the figure-hugging lines of the suit. When he came to the low-cut neckline, she had to resist the urge to tug it closed.

His wolfish smile made it plain that he was aware of her discomfort. ‘Don’t look so worried; you have my approval.’

‘I wasn’t aware I needed it,’ she snapped.

A provocative gleam glinted in his grey gaze. ‘I’m glad to see you’re back on form again. I’d hate to think I’d chosen a woman with no spirit.’

He was probably more worried about her impression on his former university classmates than her state of mind, she thought with a flash of anger. How typical.

‘You needn’t worry. I gave you my word I’d play my part and I shall.’

‘You could start by looking a little more loving,’ he advised. ‘You look as if you’d like to come after me with a meat cleaver.’

She favoured him with a sickly smile. ‘How did you guess?’

He tut-tutted softly and stepped closer so she could see the satiny gleam on the lapels of his suit. A dinner-jacket suited him, she thought absently, focusing on his perfectly tied bow-tie as it came nearer and nearer.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, nerves fluttering in her throat.

‘Giving you some practice in how to be loving,’ he promised, closing the remaining distance between them.

‘This isn’t part of our...’ she managed to get out before his lips closed over hers, muffling the rest of her reminder.

Being kissed by him wasn’t part of their agreement, but neither was her uninhibited reaction. Some part of her knew she should be fighting him off with all her strength. Yet the part which welcomed the embrace seemed to be winning.

She had been kissed before, most recently by Joshua, who had managed to convince her he loved her, until the parting came. But nothing had prepared her for the sheer eroticism of Slade’s kiss. It sent signals of desire spiralling down her throat, coiling along her backbone, to the very core of her being.

Weakly she clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging furrows into his suit. He had made time to shave and his skin felt like velvet against her cheek. She inhaled the leathery scent of shaving cream, feeling the slickness on her skin.

‘Open your mouth,’ he murmured against her lips.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. ‘No, I...’

‘Eden, obey me.’

Instinctively she did and was swept away by the instant invasion of his tongue, plundering the soft recesses of her mouth. God, he was making love to her with a mere kiss.

When he moved slowly away, she swayed dizzily, trying to absorb the torrent of sensations he had aroused. Then she saw his self-satisfied look as he blotted her lipstick from his mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief. ‘You bastard. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?’

‘At least you look like a woman who knows the meaning of love.’

He had played her like an instrument and she had allowed it to happen, to the extent of being a willing accomplice. Well, no more!

‘You’re the one who doesn’t know the meaning of love,’ she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. It felt swollen and bruised. ‘I’m sure you know all about lovemaking. But as for honest human feelings, I doubt if you have any.’

He tilted an eyebrow at her. ‘I have feelings all right, but they’re more pragmatic than yours. To me, lovemaking is more real and honest than the romantic myths you subscribe to. You only have to look at my mother and sister to see where romantic love gets you. One is going through a messy divorce from her third husband, and the other is dead at the age of twenty-nine.’

In the evening light, his face was all sharp planes and angles, the look so bleak that she felt chilled in spite of the tropical heat which defied the air-conditioning system. Her heart turned over. She knew only too well how vulnerable past hurts could make a person. The sting of Joshua’s rejection was fresh enough to make her guard her family secrets even from Slade.

How much more he had suffered through the loss of his sister and the break-up of his secure family life. ‘I’m sorry you feel love is a waste of time,’ she offered.

He tilted one ironic eyebrow. ‘I didn’t say it was a waste of time. Only that it’s better to be honest about one’s intentions.’

‘Total honesty? I have visions of you putting signs up—“For one night only”.’

‘Very funny. I don’t usually need signs, because I ensure that the feelings are mutual.’

What about in my case? she wanted to ask. It would imply that she saw herself as a candidate for his bed, which she most certainly didn’t. What did it matter if he preferred physical love to a deeper involvement? It wasn’t as if she was planning to get involved with him.

All the same, she couldn’t resist asking, ‘Don’t you find it lonely, just you and your principles?’

He frowned impatiently. ‘At least I’ll still have my principles come the morning.’

Sorrow for his bleak view of life overwhelmed her own sense of outrage and she fled to the bedroom to repair her make-up. Only thinking of her mother’s needs gave her the courage to face Slade again and accompany him to the hotel restaurant.

She was sure every eye must be upon them as they were shown to one of the best tables. Every time a waiter called her Mrs Benedict, she cringed, but made an effort not to show it in case Slade decided she needed another ‘lesson’ in loving. How she hated him for taking advantage of her like that.

Or was it herself she disliked for being so compliant? a small voice queried. She had enjoyed his kiss, had given herself up to it with all the abandon of which she was capable. What was worse, he knew it and was amused by her response.

Instead of making her task easier, Slade had made it almost impossible, she thought. How could she convince anyone she was a loving wife after this?

CHAPTER THREE

‘SLADE, darling. I was hoping to catch up with you here.’

A slight frown creased Slade’s smooth forehead as he rose to greet the woman who swept up to their table. Petite in both height and figure, she was stunningly beautiful with china-doll features under a cap of glossy black hair. The hands she extended ended in perfect oval nails which shone with emerald polish to match her vibrant green eyes.

Even before Slade made the introductions, Eden recognised her as Dana Drury, one of Tasmania’s best known television personalities and anchor of her own evening current affairs programme.

‘Dana, this is Eden Lyle, one of my top researchers,’ he explained, drawing Eden into the circle with an expansive gesture.

Dana’s cool green gaze rested on Eden for all of ten seconds as she murmured, ‘Pleased to meet you. You’re here to back up Slade for the conference, I suppose.’

Without waiting for an answer, she returned her attention to Slade. ‘Too bad I didn’t know you were arriving tonight, or I’d have given my camera crew the slip.’ She indicated a table on the far side of the room. The small group around it were watching with obvious interest.

He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic gesture. ‘Eden and I have business to discuss in any case.’

Another casual look glanced off Eden before dismissing her again. ‘I can hardly accuse you of being a workaholic when everyone knows I’m just as bad. But you will save me a dance later, won’t you?’

‘I’ll join the queue.’

‘Save the flattery. I’m a liberated woman, remember?’ All the same, she looked pleased as she returned to her table.

Slade sat down again and resumed eating his strawberry soufflé. ‘Sorry about the interruption. Dana and I are long-standing friends.’

Dana’s flirtatious manner had left Eden in no doubt as to what sort of friends they were. She was disturbed to find that the idea bothered her, although there was no reason why it should. ‘I notice you didn’t introduce me as your wife,’ she commented.

His eyebrows flickered upwards. ‘I didn’t think you’d want me to. Telling Dana would be like taking out an advertisement.’

‘But you don’t mind the hotel staff knowing.’ The observation was out before she could stop herself.

‘It’s part of their job to be discreet.’ His eyes hardened and the spoon came crashing down into the soufflé dish, making her wince. ‘Damn it, Eden, you’re giving me the third degree like a real wife. What’s going on here?’

She had begun to ask herself the same thing with no convincing answer. ‘I’m getting into the spirit of the role,’ she excused herself, hoping it was true.

‘You’re succeeding brilliantly enough to make me glad we’re not really married,’ he growled.

Annoyance stiffened her spine. He was the one who wanted this charade, not her. ‘We can end this any time you say,’ she snapped back. ‘I’ll be only too delighted to go on with my holiday free of any attachments.’

He fixed her with a sharp glare. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Is that what this is all about? You’re hoping to rile me enough to end the whole thing. Well, it won’t work. You gave me your word you’d see it through and I intend to hold you to it.’

She felt tired suddenly, whether with the long flight or the day’s surprises she couldn’t tell. ‘Then you’ll have to play your part more convincingly. Bob Hamilton will never believe we’re married if you keep snapping at me all the time.’

‘On the other hand, it may be even more convincing.’

Sadness welled up inside her. ‘You’re talking about your parents’ marriage, aren’t you?’

‘All three of them,’ he tossed off with apparent insouciance, but she wasn’t convinced.

‘My father left us when I was sixteen,’ she admitted softly. ‘It doesn’t have to sour you on the whole institution.’

Bitterness twisted his mouth into a thin line. ‘As long as you’re happy to live in an institution.’

Without consulting her, he ordered coffee and liqueurs, making it plain that the subject was closed. Yet it rankled with him, she sensed.

For her part, she knew only too well the heartache of losing a parent at a young age. She had gone through all the stages of wondering if she was to blame, trying to be a better person, then finally accepting that the fault, if there was one, lay outside herself.

Now she was losing her mother too, by degrees, which made it even more painful. If anyone had a right to be cynical about relationships, she had. Instead, she had clung to the love her family had shared before her father left them. When she thought about her childhood, it was to focus on the happy moments and try to forget the quarrels between her parents, and the sadness once her mother’s health began to decline.

She no longer blamed her father for leaving. Peggy had been as much at fault as he had. Never an easy woman to live with, she had perhaps already been suffering the early stages of her illness, unbeknown to her family. Besides, life was too short and precious to hold grudges.

She lowered her eyes against the cynicism in Slade’s glare and toyed with her liqueur glass. ‘We’re poles apart in our thinking. What made you choose me to convince your friend you’re married?’

He tossed back his liqueur and set the glass down. ‘It was partly convenience. When you told me where you planned to go for your holiday, I had a word with the travel agent to ensure he made this date available to you.’

Momentarily she forgot all about not holding grudges and shot him a look laced with venom. ‘You actually manipulated my choice of holiday dates so I’d pick the one which suited you?’

‘It suited you as well,’ he pointed out, unperturbed by her hostility.

‘What would you have done if I hadn’t been available at all?’

‘Probably showed Bob the photos of Katie I brought with me, and tried to convince him she was my daughter, at home with her mother.’

Her throat dried as she cast about for words to describe his behaviour. ‘Do you always use people so callously to get what you want?’

He stirred cream into his coffee before answering. ‘You’re forgetting, this isn’t what I want, it’s what Bob Hamilton needs.’

‘You’d know best, I suppose?’

His strong fingers closed around the delicate coffee-cup until she feared he might crush it. ‘In this case, I do. He needs that money and won’t accept it any other way.’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Actually, I’m surprised that you find my methods so disagreeable, considering you use them yourself.’