Fugitive Bride

Once the honeymoon was over, she’d rarely seen Gerard during the day, and he worked six days a week. Sundays hadn’t been much better. He’d spent so much time on the telephone, even in the car when they were driving somewhere. Mobile phones, she believed, were a menace.

When she’d mildly complained over breakfast one day of her loneliness and boredom, Gerard had suggested charity organisations, flower-arranging classes and cordon bleu cookery courses. When she’d hinted at a baby instead, he’d vetoed that for another year at least. He wanted her all to himself for a while, he’d said.

That night he’d come home with two dozen red roses and made love to her for hours.

Looking back, Leah could well understand why she hadn’t been really content! Gerard had reduced her to nothing but a glorified mistress and hostess. He hadn’t discussed his business with her, except in scant detail. She knew nothing much about his past, or even his present, except what he’d chosen to tell her. Which wasn’t much. She’d had no friends of her own. No life of her own, except as Gerard’s wife.

It had been her growing discontent which had driven her into the garden that fateful evening. One of Gerard’s business colleagues had come over for dinner, and, true to form, after coffee Gerard had taken him into his study to talk business, leaving Leah at a loose end. As usual.

So she’d decided to walk down to the garden seat which overlooked the Brisbane river. Water always soothed her. It was a very pretty spot at night, looking across from their exclusive position on Kangaroo Point to the Story Bridge, and the lights of the city beyond.

She’d left the house by a side door, and had been walking along a path not far from the study when the open French doors and the stillness of the sultry evening had caused Gerard’s voice to carry far beyond the room.

‘You made a big mistake marrying a woman you loved so madly, Steven. Such passion destroys a man’s brain cells. And his judgement. Marriage should be approached like a business deal. With lots of cool thought and calculated research.’

On hearing those first shocking comments, Leah became riveted to the spot. But there were more shocks to come.

‘There are two types of women,’ Gerard continued. ‘Soft and hard. The givers and the takers. The first wants to love and be loved in return. The second wants everything else. Believe me when I tell you that these days the soft ones are getting rarer. You have to get them young, before they’re contaminated by other men. And life.

‘Take Leah for instance. She was only nineteen when I met her and had had no serious boyfriends before me. Naturally, she wasn’t from the city. Generally speaking, city girls are bad news. I knew from the moment I met Leah that she was just what I was looking for. Perfect wife material in every way. Innocent, sweet, beautiful. A natural giver.’

‘And very much in love with you,’ Steven remarked drily.

‘Still is,’ Gerard pronounced with a casual arrogance that took Leah’s breath away.

‘Of course, we’ve only been married a short time,’ he went on. ‘But I have no intention of ever becoming too complacent where Leah is concerned. You know what happens when you neglect a business. Before you know it the damned thing folds. I gave up a whole month for our honeymoon, and still pour a lot of time and money into my beautiful new bride. I don’t neglect her in the bedroom and I give her every material thing any woman could possibly desire, in return for which she gives me what every man wants. Complete love and loyalty.’

‘But don’t you love her, Gerard?’ came Steven’s troubled question.

‘Love wears best on a woman,’ came his coldly cynical reply. ‘As I said before, a man who loves is weaker for it. It makes him stupid. And vulnerable. The last thing a woman wants is a husband who’s weak, stupid and vulnerable. In the ends she falls out of love with such a fool and leaves him for another, stronger individual. Of course, I’m not saying you don’t tell them you love them. Amazing what those three little words can do for a marriage. I don’t let a day go by without telling Leah how much I love her.’

‘That sounds awfully callous, Gerard…’

‘Not at all. It works, Steven. You won’t find my marriage ending in divorce, you mark my words.’

Leah had certainly marked them. All of them.

What a pity she hadn’t had the courage to throw them in his face, personally!

She’d been going to confront him that night, as soon as Steven had left the house. But the wretched man had stayed for ages, till her own misery had forced her to go upstairs to bed.

Not that she’d slept. Midnight had found her lying wide awake in bed, tensely listening to Gerard’s footsteps on the stairs.

‘Waiting up for me, darling?’ he said on entering the room. ‘How sweet,’ he murmured, smiling softly down at her as he undressed.

Leah watched him, dry-mouthed, her stomach swirling with a mixture of distress and dismay. She felt sickened by the situation, and her foolishness in being taken in by him so easily.

And yet, how could she have known what he was? He’d always been so incredibly good to her, had fulfilled all her romantic dreams, especially in bed. No man could have been a better lover. Or more considerate.

Her mind was whirling with all these thoughts when he slipped into bed beside her. Her mouth opened to say something, only to be covered by his in a gentle kiss. Much more gentle than was his usual style. Leah hoped that meant he wasn’t going to continue, that it was just a goodnight kiss. But it seemed stopping was not on Gerard’s mind. Soon, it wasn’t on her mind, either.

Afterwards, she lay there, stunned, shattered. How could she have let him? And how could she possibly have found pleasure in it?

It was then that she knew she had to remove herself completely from his corruptive physical presence. She had to flee. If she confronted him with the truth—that she’d overheard what he’d told Steven in the study after dinner—he would find some way to explain it, to convince her that he didn’t really believe what he’d said, that he did really love her.

Gerard was a natural born salesman. A clever and convincing talker. He could almost make people believe black was white when he wanted to. On top of that he would surely use sex against her, seducing her to his will, corrupting her with the pleasures of the flesh.

Leah believed if she let him do that, she would be lost. She could bear a lot of things in life, but she could not bear to live a lie. Gerard’s love had meant the world to her. Dear heaven, it was her world! She’d given up everything for him. Her family and friends. Her home. Her beloved ocean.

All for nothing. An illusion. A trap.

On the Monday, she made her secret plans to flee the marriage, and this man who had such terrible power over her—demonstrating that power again that night, despite Leah finding what she hoped was the perfect excuse to be left alone. A migraine.

Her claim of a headache, however, brought nothing but solicitous offerings of painkillers and an aromatherapy massage. Admittedly, it had been a very long, very sensual massage. In the end she succumbed to those knowing hands, despising herself all the while she was wallowing in her husband’s erotic expertise. When she sobbed afterwards in his arms, he actually thought her still in pain, and was so apologetic she almost thought she had to be mistaken about him.

But that was just desperation talking, silly Leah not wanting to believe she could still love and want any man who could speak of marriage—their marriage—as he had that Sunday evening.

The final night she spent in their marital bed did not include any further humiliation. Leah could not have borne it. She’d come to the difficult decision to take the initiative in the bedroom that last night, thereby salvaging what little pride and self-respect she had left. Better she accept the inevitable with some dignity than act like some ninny of a victim who could not help herself.

So she climbed into their bed naked and reached for him first, startling him. Not once during their marriage had she done that. Perversely, he’d seemed very pleased. He didn’t realise her actions were inspired by desperation. And despair.

It was ironic that his subsequent lovemaking carried a sweet tenderness Leah had never previously experienced in his arms. She responded to that tenderness, even more than she had to his passion the previous two nights.

Gerard would never know how much he had lost in losing her. She would have devoted her life to him, if only he’d loved her back. Instead, he’d reduced her to nothing but a shell of a woman, tormented by thoughts of what might have been, tortured by what her marriage had actually been.

A cruel, cynical, cold-blooded sham.

‘Got the food and drink ready, Leah?’

Leah spun round, the sea breeze whipping her long honey-blonde hair across her face. ‘Yes, Alan. Everything’s ready,’ she called back.

‘Good girl. Hold the fort while I collect tonight’s party,’ he said, nodding towards the distant figures on the beach.

Leah shaded her eyes with her hands and peered to shore. She knew they had a booking for six, but not the ages or sexes of the people. It looked like two couples, a single woman and a single man. You could usually guess their status by the way they stood, either in close pairs or out on their own.

‘Won’t be long.’ Alan undid the rope, jumped into the Zodiac dinghy and fired the outboard motor. Within seconds the small craft was speeding across the water towards the beach, its flat bottom slapping across the tops of the waves, salt spray flying everywhere.

He was a bit of a cowboy, was Alan.

He was also the captain and owner of The Zephyr, an old pearling lugger built back in the 1920s. Alan had bought it a few years back, and now made a tidy living carrying tourists up and down the West Australian coast, his speciality being sunset cruises along Cable Beach during the Broome holiday season, which ran from late May till early September.

Six weeks ago Leah had heard on the yachtie grapevine in Darwin that the owner of The Zephyr wanted a female deck-hand, someone young and attractive who knew about sailing boats and who could handle the hostessing part of the job. So she’d applied and been immediately offered the job. Once she’d assured herself Alan didn’t think he was hiring himself a live-in lover for the duration, she’d had no hesitation in accepting his offer.

He’d been a perfect gentleman so far. Not so perfect a gentleman with other members of her sex, however. A steady stream of women had trailed through the captain’s cabin since The Zephyr’s arrival in Broome.

Alan had this thing for older women, it seemed. He had no trouble reeling them in, either. Around thirty-five, he wasn’t what Leah would have called handsome. But it seemed his long blond hair, bronzed body and soulful brown eyes always got the women in, especially the ones around forty.

Leah wondered if the unattached woman standing alone on that beach might be in Alan’s required age bracket. It was a distinct possibility, and she watched him angle the boat further in than usual.

The wide flat tides around Cable Beach made it impossible to use a regular dinghy to pick up their clients. Most times, Alan still couldn’t get the Zodiac right in, and the people had to wade out a bit into the water. He only made this kind of extra effort when a lady he fancied was concerned.

Leah shook her head. Some men were devils when it came to women and sex, she decided. She wanted nothing more to do with that type. Not ever!

Alan turned the Zodiac—now lined with people—and headed back towards the lugger, going as fast as ever. Show-off, Leah thought wryly as she moved to stand at the side railing, ready to help everyone aboard. Twenty seconds later, the small craft was close enough for her to make out the various eager and expectant faces.

When her gaze moved to the man sitting alone at the back her eyes flung wide, her heart missing more than a beat.

‘Oh, no,’ she groaned. ‘No, it can’t be.’

But there was no mistaking that handsome face. Or those penetrating eyes.

Her husband had found her.

There was no escape this time, not unless she flung herself into the depths of the Indian Ocean.

CHAPTER TWO

HER heart started thudding. Blood began roaring through her head. As did a whole host of furious thoughts.

How dared he pursue her like this?

Six months had gone by. Six long, miserable months. She’d just begun to feel safe. Just begun to feel as if she might survive without him. And what does he do? Turns up like a bad penny!

What in God’s name did she have to do to make good her escape? She’d fled the damned country, hadn’t she? Lived on the high seas. Worked menial jobs in far-flung harbours around the world for months before daring to return to Australia. Even then, she’d only stayed because this job had been in such a remote corner of the country. Gerard had always said he had no interest in any other state except Queensland.

How had he found her? Had some wretched tourist from Brisbane recognised her and reported back to him?

No, she decided. That wouldn’t have been likely. People from Brisbane rarely holidayed in Broome.

He’d found her the way men like him always found people. He’d hired some professional to hunt her down, to track her like some wretched criminal on the run. And now that she’d been found, he’d come himself to hound her into going back to him.

Well, she wouldn’t! Never! Ever! He would have to hog-tie her and drag her back to Brisbane. She would never voluntarily go back.

Leah had thought she’d be afraid if and when Gerard caught up with her, thought she’d be terrified of the wicked power he had over her. She wasn’t. She was simply livid!

Her eyes glared daggers at him as the Zodiac pulled alongside. She didn’t notice Alan glaring at her when she failed to take the rope and secure the boat to the lugger. All she saw was Gerard, staring back at her with a blank expression, as though he had no idea why she was scowling at him with such ill-concealed fury.

His lack of sensitivity only infuriated her further.

Alan finally communicated his own frustration with Leah by throwing the rope into her hands.

Reluctantly, she turned her attention to the job at hand, securing the boat to the side of the lugger. Her smile was stiff as she introduced herself, then proceeded to help the party aboard, finding out in the process that the first couple were called David and Dawn, and the second Geoff and Peggy. All four were around sixty and obviously good friends, confiding in Leah within seconds that they’d all retired recently and had been travelling around Australia together for several weeks.

The single woman’s name was Sandra. She was fortyish, as Leah had guessed. Quite attractive too, she supposed, if you liked plump blondes who wore too much make-up and gushed over everything. The avid glances Alan was giving Sandra’s womanly derriere as she stepped onto the deck seemed to indicate he did.

‘This is just too too exciting!’ Sandra enthused, one hand fluttering up to her throat as she gazed around with seemingly enthralled eyes.

‘Watch your step,’ Leah warned on sighting her high-heeled sandals. ‘The deck is smooth and can be slippery.’

‘Don’t you worry, sweetie,’ she said smugly. ‘I won’t fall. These shoes and I have gone to the top of Ayer’s Rock together. They’re like part of me.’

Leah could believe it. She’d met other women like Sandra on her travels. They looked all fluff on the surface, but underneath were tough as an old boot. They were survivors, the Sandras of this world. Not like the Leahs, the silly, soft, sentimental Leahs…

Leah gathered all her newly found courage and turned to face Gerard. He rose from where he’d remained sitting at the back of the small craft, his face now the picture of puzzlement.

Did he think he was fooling her with that stupid expression? She knew why he’d come. To get her back! The almighty Gerard Woodward could not be allowed to be seen to be a failure. His marriage could not possibly end in desertion, or, even worse… divorce!

Her temper rose another notch, so much so that when Gerard took a step towards the front of the Zodiac she was ripe and ready for him.

‘Not you,’ she spat at him, jabbing her right index finger towards his chest. ‘You can just stay right there and let Alan take you back to the beach!’

He blinked while Alan simply gaped. Leah was aware of Sandra gasping behind her.

‘Good God, Leah,’ her boss spluttered. ‘What’s got into you?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s got into me. That person there,’ she ground out, pointing straight at Gerard’s cold-blooded heart, ‘isn’t the innocent tourist he’s pretending to be. He happens to be my ex-husband. He isn’t here for a simple cruise. He’s here to make trouble. Believe me when I tell you he’s a sneaky, conniving conman and you can’t believe a word he says!’

Alan gave the sneaky, conniving conman a darkly suspicious glance. ‘Is that true? Are you Leah’s ex-husband?’

‘No,’ came the cool reply.

Leah laughed. ‘Okay, so you want to be literal! Legally, you are still my husband, I guess. But I walked out on our ghastly marriage six months ago, Alan, and haven’t seen this mockery of a husband since that day. In my book, that makes him about as ex as you can get.’

‘I’m not her husband, either,’ the mockery said.

Now it was Leah’s turn to gape.

‘Not my husband!’ she finally snapped. ‘What kind of game are you playing, Gerard? You can’t get a divorce in this country under twelve months, no matter how much money and connections you’ve got. I know. I asked.’

‘I’m not your husband because I’m not Gerard. But I can understand your mistake. I’m Gerard’s twin brother… Gareth.’

Leah was speechless. But not for long.

‘Gerard doesn’t have a twin brother,’ she argued. ‘He doesn’t have a brother at all. Period! He’s an only child.’

‘Is that what he told you?’ came the calm query.

‘Yes!’

‘What else?’

‘What do you mean, what else?’

‘I mean… regarding his family.’

‘He doesn’t have any family. His mother and father died some years back.’

‘Our father did. But our mother is alive and well and living in New York. I spoke to her only yesterday on the telephone.’

Leah’s mouth dropped open.

‘Well, you did say you couldn’t believe a word your husband said,’ Alan pointed out with merciless logic.

‘Yes, but… but…’ Leah’s frantic gaze scanned the man standing before her, raking him from head to toe to see if there was any visible evidence this was not Gerard. Since he was dressed casually, in pale grey shorts and a navy and white striped top, she could see quite a bit of him.

He looked leaner than Gerard, she finally conceded. And not quite as muscly. He looked older, too, with deeper lines etched around his mouth and eyes—eyes which at that moment were looking at her with a most irritating composure, as though he was patiently waiting for the truth of his identity to sink in.

‘I think you owe the man an apology, Leah,’ Alan grated out.

Leah glanced up into the man’s eyes, eyes which were identical to Gerard’s. They met hers levelly and quite blandly. Despite that, something decidedly sexual curled in her stomach.

Gerard had always been able to turn her on, just by looking at her. No way could another man—not even an identical twin—reproduce what Gerard could make her feel. Such a possibility was beyond belief.

‘Never in a month of Sundays,’ she bit out, ‘will I apologise, because I know I’m right. This man is my husband, Gerard Woodward, no matter what clever lies he trots out.’

‘Good grief, Leah!’ Alan exclaimed exasperatedly. ‘Why on earth would he say he’s your husband’s brother if he wasn’t?’

‘I don’t know.’ Unless it was to trick her into letting her guard down with him. Maybe he was plotting to kidnap her, or some equally appalling plan. She would put nothing past Gerard. She knew the real man now, knew what he was capable of.

Where once she’d thought him wonderfully strong and decisive, she now knew he was cold-bloodedly ruthless. His veins ran with ice, not blood. His silver tongue spouted lies with superb ease. My God, when she thought of the thousands of times he’d told her he loved her! Every morning before he left for work. Every time he’d made love to her.

Made love? she thought sneeringly. Such a description was a joke! Gerard had never made love to her. He’d seduced her. Manipulated her. Used her. Love had never come into the equation.

Nausea swirled in her stomach at the renewal of this bitter realisation. All lies. The man was a total lie. This crazy claim about a twin brother was a lie!

Hatred burnt in her eyes as she glared up at him.

‘I’m not him,’ he reiterated, in a voice so unlike Gerard’s that she was momentarily thrown. Suddenly his eyes were not Gerard’s, either. They were soft, and sad. Gerard had a wide range of expressions, but soft and sad was not one of them.

Still… faith in one’s husband, and one’s own judgement, once lost was not easily restored.

Leah hardened her heart against that treacherous weakness of hers to simply believe what she was told.

‘Do you honestly think you can fool me a second time?’ she threw at him in her agony and fury. ‘You’re Gerard and nothing and no one can convince me otherwise. So, I repeat, you either go back to that beach or I will. I’ll swim if I have to!’

Alan sighed his own frustration. ‘For pity’s sake, Leah, you’re paranoid. It’s perfectly clear this chap isn’t your husband. Why won’t you believe him?’

‘It’s all right,’ the man himself said. ‘I fully understand the young lady’s attitude, especially since she is unfortunate enough to be my brother’s wife. Gerard’s not a very nice person. He can be, in fact, a bastard of the first order. But I repeat… Leah, is it?… I am not Gerard. I’m nothing like him, except in looks, which is something I can do little about. I’m sorry if I have upset you. Truly sorry.’

Leah could only stare. An apology?

Apologies were anathema to Gerard. He gave reasons for his actions. Sometimes excuses. But never apologies.

Maybe—just maybe—this person standing before her wasn’t Gerard.

But only maybe. Leah was not about to rush into believing anything any more. Not where her husband was concerned.

Her eyes remained hard upon him. And sceptical.

The man who claimed he wasn’t her husband shrugged. ‘Perhaps you should take me back to the beach,’ he directed towards Alan. ‘I don’t want to spoil the cruise for everyone else.’

‘Certainly not!’ Alan replied. ‘If Leah has a problem with your being on this cruise then she can be the one to go back to the beach. I believe you’re not her ex, even if she doesn’t. No man would make up such a far-fetched lie over some female who obviously doesn’t want a bar of him. It doesn’t make any sense. Pity Leah can’t see that.’

Leah no longer knew what to think, for Alan was right in a way. It didn’t make much sense. She didn’t really believe Gerard was out to kidnap her. Violence was not his bag. He always used oral persuasion to get what he wanted. At worst, he appealed to an opponent’s darker side to achieve his ends, playing up to their greed, or their love of power and position.

She couldn’t see how pretending to be his twin brother could possibly persuade her back to her marriage. What could Gerard hope to achieve with a deception which could only be short-lived, at best? She would eventually find out the truth.

‘Perhaps if I might make a suggestion?’

Leah whirled at the sound of the female voice, flushing as she realised the rest of the party had been standing around, witnessing—and possibly being entertained by—every embarrassing, humiliating word. Sandra was especially wide-eyed, obviously fascinated by the situation.