Kissed by Moonlight, page 3
Perhaps they were. Were those wooden pews totally empty? Did gentle images cluster in the darkest corners? Was it silence ringing in her ears or the faint echo of a celestial choir?
A spear of sunshine shafting down from a stained- glass window touched them with its rosy glow. It was like a benediction.
She squeezed the professor’s arm and whispered, “Dear Uncle Richard.”
And then she was conscious of David’s solemn face above her. He looked almost tender, as if he cared that she was to become his wife. She shook her head, as if to remove the image. To imagine that David was moved was taking fantasy too far.
The ring that David had placed on her finger now glinted in the bright sunshine as she held it out for the professor’s inspection. Her hand was taken into the comforting custody of his larger one. “Truly my daughter at last,” he said, humbling her beyond speech.
David said, in an odd, clipped voice, as though scoffing at the childishness that had prompted the action, “When I saw the posy of wild flowers, I half expected you to come to me barefoot.”
“I almost did.” She looked down at the soaked toes of her ruined shoes. “These weren’t manufactured with tramps through long, wet grass in mind.”
Because David’s censorious, mocking eyes were upon her, she dared not steal a flower to be sentimentally pressed in a treasured book, so she handed her wild-flower wedding bouquet intact to the first little girl they passed.
The professor still proudly wore his sweet-scented dog rose, but David’s lapel was bare of adornment. His boutonniere had been conveniently lost, it would seem.
A jet took them on the first stage of their journey. She didn’t know where David was taking her. He hadn’t volunteered the information and she hadn’t asked. In any case, the moment they were airborne he’d unzipped some papers from his brief case, prohibiting conversation.
He had apologized before starting work on them. “I’m sorry about this, but it’s got to be done today. If I must neglect you sometime, better now than later. It wouldn’t do to burn the midnight oil on our wedding night.”
Her eyelids dropped, weighted by a great shyness. As his eyes traveled down the papers on his knee, ticking a figure here, heavily scoring out another there, the implication of his words shredded her composure. The haste had been for her convenience – she had needed to get away quickly – but it was clear that it was not going to be a marriage of convenience for him too. Only David would take it for granted that the marriage would be consummated without bothering about the cosseting ritual of courtship. It was going to be very strange. Although she had known him all her life, nurturing a secret passion for him for most of that time, she had never tingled in his arms or gently rebuffed the probings of his hands in their attempt to know her body. Yet tonight he would take it as his right to know her intimately.
The jet touched down at a large airport and she found herself boarding another plane, one that was much smaller.
“Not the last thing in comfort, but it’ll do for the short time we’ll be on it,” David said in token apology. “The runway of the airport we’re making for is being extended to take jets. It should be operational by the end of the year.”
He seemed to be telling her something, but she wasn’t intuitive enough to know what. She smiled and said vaguely, “Oh, really!” Just as though he was making inconsequential chatter, which was something he never did.
When he said, “We’re almost there now,” she looked down at an amazingly blue sea, angling her head to get a better view of a collection of islands.
The smallest island of all was set a little apart from its sister group. It had a curious outline; its rugged coastline wound in and out in a series of animal shapes. The most distinctive animal shape of all was at its southern tip, and it was like no animal she had known. Tracing its shape she saw that it almost had a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and it flicked off into a serpent’s tail.
Suddenly she knew where David was taking her. She found herself speaking its name, although she had never set eyes on it before. “Chimera.” Her throat was tight with emotion. This moment would live forever in her heart, her first sight of Chimera. “It’s my father’s island. It’s Chimera!”
The dream that went amiss. The venture of three years ago that had toppled his empire and started the avalanche that had brought about his ruin. Yet it was not that aspect she thought about as she gazed down at Chimera with tears in her eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to tread my father’s dream. It’s the perfect honeymoon surprise. Thank you for bringing me here, David. You can’t know how much I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Even before he answered, by looking at his face she knew her gratitude was misplaced.
He demanded crossly, “Just when did you think I had time to make extravagant honeymoon plans?”
He was right. There had been no time for him to arrange a honeymoon; no time for her to shop for her trousseau. Her mouth curved at the thought that perhaps her old cotton nightgown was just the job for a non-honeymoon.
“It’s simply an unkind coincidence that I have to bring you to the place of that ill-fated venture of your father’s. It’s where I happen to be working at the moment. I’m with the hotel.”
“How stupid of me,” she said stiffly.
“It’s no good taking that attitude, Petrina. My father seemed to think you needed my support and he was right. I’m glad he sent for me, but the fact remains that I had to leave several important things hanging fire that I must go back and attend to.”
“I hope you won’t find my presence an encumbrance, and I am not taking any attitude,” she said, warding off that weak feminine reaction to cruelty.
She was deeply disappointed that she was tagging along with him and that he had not planned to bring her here to please her, even though she knew that because of the time factor, and because he didn’t really care for her at all, she was being unreasonable. It was cruel of him not to let her cling to her father’s dream and instead make her face up to the reality that it had brought about his destruction. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he being so unkind?
It didn’t occur to her that he might be trying to prepare her for something, not even when he said, “I’m truly sorry, Petrina,” as if this was just the beginning of the disillusionment in store for her.
She would not let him spoil it for her. Despite his chilling words, she felt a strange tingle of excitement at the prospect of seeing Chimera for herself. Chimera – by its very name standing for illusion and enchantment, not disillusion and disenchantment – would surely make her dreams come true, not destroy them.
In a marginally kinder voice he said, “If I sound brusque it might be because I feel inadequate. To a man it doesn’t matter.” His penetrating gaze increased her discomfort. “I should have realized that certain things are important to a woman, and a honeymoon is certainly one of them. I’ve cheated you. I should never have brought you to Chimera.”
No, no, he was wrong. It was destined for him to bring her here.
“Poor Pet-rina.” The break in her name was deliberate, because then he said, “My poor little Pet.” He could almost have said “my poor little darling,” or even “my poor little love,” because he used the shortening of her name in a way that no one had done before, as an endearment. “The trappings don’t matter to me, but you should have had all the icing on the cake: a beautiful gown, a special bouquet and not a handful of wild flowers, bridesmaids galore, guests showering you with confetti and good wishes. Never mind the icing, you didn’t even have the cake.”
The plane gave a spine-jarring kangaroo hop and shuddered to a stop.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in some surprise, because she had been so absorbed in this talk with David that she hadn’t realized what was happening. “We seem to have landed,” she said with an air of disappointment. She was enjoying his kindness and would have liked the moment to be prolonged. He had been acting almost like a real bridegroom, a bridegroom who loved his bride.
The last remnants of color were draining from the day as she got into the car that was waiting for them. The porter who carried the cases welcomed David back with friendly deference, while his dark eyes floated a smile at Petrina.
The cases were in the trunk, the tip was in the man’s hand, and David was at the wheel of the car preparing to drive off before he volunteered, “By the way, Manuel, this is my wife.”
The man seemed speechless with surprise.
The light wasn’t good enough for Petrina to see much of Chimera. They passed through the principal town, which David told her was called El Pueblo, The Town. It was comprised of a collection of whitewashed houses in a honeycomb of narrow cobbled streets that all ran into a tiny plaza dominated by a pretty little church.
“Three years ago the island was populated by old people,” David informed her. “The young ones had all left for better opportunities, and who could blame them? Poverty makes for exploitation. They saw their fathers and grandfathers breaking their backs working the land with outdated methods and poor tools, while their mothers and grandmothers ruined their eyesight crocheting fine lace wear, tablecloths, and shawls, which they sold for a pittance. It used to be a sweatshop island, but thankfully all that has changed. The young men have come back to build the roads, the shops, and the hotels. The women returned to be with the men and, incidentally, to work in the shops and the hotels.”
“You’re very loyal, David.”
“How do you mean? To whom am I loyal?”
“The opportunist who cashed in on my father’s dream. I bet these poor people are still being exploited. Providing cheap labor.”
“They’re paid the going rate.”
“Which I imagine would be unacceptable to any union back home,” she said drily.
“This isn’t England,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and looking grim. “We’re staying at the Hotel León, by the way. That’s where I’m based.”
“That sounds as though it should be situated on the lion’s head,” she said.
“Quite right, it is. I hope you don’t hate it too much.” Despite his solicitous words, his tone had gone indifferent again, as if it was just too bad if she did. In a kinder key he added, “I’ll try to get things wound up quickly and then we’ll go somewhere I think you will like.”
On being escorted into the hotel, the surprised reaction that had flashed across the porter’s face at the airport on being informed that she was David’s wife was repeated several times over. It gave room for conjecture. It seemed that a straight eyebrow was maintained at the sight of a woman by his side, as if that was a familiar sight. The statement that she was his wife was the signal for a gasp of astonishment. Once again, she wondered what his angle had been, why he had taken a wife when he so obviously hadn’t lacked for female company.
“Are you hungry?” he inquired.
“Yes, but I think I’m too exhausted to eat.”
“Too exhausted to combat all the inquisitive eyes in the dining room, perhaps?” he asked intuitively.
“Yes, I do believe that’s what I mean.”
“Would you like to go straight up –” He smiled. “I was going to say to my suite, but it’s our suite now. Yes? I’ll collect the key and put you in the elevator, and I’ll join you when I’ve seen if there’s any mail and ordered a meal to be sent up.”
“That sounds absolutely marvelous,” she said, thankful he was not going to make her remain by his side, the object of so much astonishment and cool amusement.
She couldn’t help teasing him about the way everyone was reacting to her presence. “Should you have sent prior warning that you were bringing a wife back with you? Have you put the cat among the pigeons?”
“Cat?” he mocked. “You’re only a tiny defenseless kitten.”
“Meow,” she said, pulling a face at him.
He put her into the elevator and instructed the diminutive elevator boy, whose name she gathered was Ignacio, to escort her to their suite.
The lift whisked whisper-quiet to the top floor. She wondered what such a very large and pretentious hotel was doing on the premier site of her father’s island. It should have been a much smaller establishment, sedate and dignified, to fit in with Chimera’s unspoiled appeal.
Ignacio proudly conducted her to her door. “Buenas noches, señora.”
“Buenas noches, Ignacio. Gracias.” She knew very little Spanish, which was the language of the island, but saying goodnight and thank you was within her scope.
“De nada – it’s nothing,” he said, grinning as he went back to his post.
She inserted the key that David had given her into the lock, twisted it, and walked into a luxurious sitting room. David hadn’t told her what he did at the hotel, but from the looks of this suite, she could tell that he was someone very important. Then her thoughts were broken as she noticed that the light was on. Odd. Probably the maid had been in recently and forgot to turn it off when she left. There was a desk in one corner, where David obviously worked, but it was primarily a room for relaxation with its deep, comfortable-looking armchairs, stereo unit, well-stocked bookshelves, and drinks cart. It was far from the impersonal hotel suite she had expected; David had made it into a home. There were two doors leading off – bedroom and bathroom? She left investigation of these for the time being and wandered out onto the balcony.
She couldn’t see a thing out here because it was now quite dark, but she could hear the roll and tumble and swish of the sea. She rested her elbows on the balcony rail for a moment, staring out at nothing, soothed by the soft air and the blissful sound of the sea. It was obviously a small private balcony serving only this suite. Exploring further, she walked its length and found her way into the bedroom.
She came to an abrupt halt, gulping in shock. On one of the twin beds, reclining comfortably, was a woman in black silk lounging pajamas. Petrina judged her to be in her early thirties. She had black hair wound into an immaculate chignon, ivory skin, and red-painted lips and fingernails.
The intruder rose up elegantly to view Petrina, implying in manner and by word that Petrina was the intruder. “On your way, sweetheart. I’m in residence.”
“Your tenancy has just expired,” Petrina informed her as coolly as she could, somehow managing to keep her head as all the pretty little dreams she had built, dreams of a David who would take her in his arms and tell her that he had loved her and missed her all these years, tumbled around her.
“Who do you think you are?” Miss Black Silk Pajamas inquired.
“David’s wife,” Petrina replied, her chin held desperately high. “Mrs. David Palmer.”
A brittle laugh escaped the other’s red mouth. “Top marks for inventive thinking. But David hasn’t got a wife.”
Petrina said, “I’ve had rather a hectic day, one way and another, and I’m very tired. Would you mind arguing it out with David. You’ll find him down –”
“I don’t need you to tell me where to find David,” the woman said scornfully.
She located her shoes, taking a tormentingly long time to put them on, straining Petrina’s nerves to the limit, but eventually she went. Petrina collapsed on the other bed, thoroughly shaken by the encounter.
What had she let herself in for? The hotel was too large, too garish, but she could hardly blame David for that. Apparently he just worked for the opportunist who had bought her father out. He probably hated the carousel atmosphere as much as she did. If he’d had time to plan things, he would undoubtedly have taken her somewhere very different for her bridal night. And of course David had sent her up to the suite all unsuspectingly. He could have had no idea that his lady friend would be waiting for him.
She must be reasonable about this. David was thirty-three and didn’t give the impression of being a celibate. He had never tried to hide the fact that he liked women. He had a normal man’s healthy outlook toward the opposite sex; his charm and good looks would insure that he was never without a companion to satisfy it.
How could she be reasonable? That bed, or its twin, was her bridal bed, and it was degrading to come up and find a woman on it, waiting for her lover.
By the time David joined her she had worked herself up into a state of anger that was so high and explosive that even he didn’t possess enough charm and tact to calm her. Not, she supposed, that he would really care to make the effort anyway.
The cart bearing their supper arrived before David did. At first she thought it was David and she had sent the waiter a scalding look and had to bite back her angry words, which wasn’t very bright of her. She could imagine him racing back down to the kitchen to tell his colleagues what a virago Señor Palmer had married.
David was smiling when he came in. “Not undressed yet? I would have thought that you couldn’t wait to take a nice cool shower.”
“And be all ready for you?” she taunted sweetly. “I didn’t know that anyone had been in with the cases. I must have been in the bedroom when they arrived.”
“The food’s here, too,” he observed. “Good. I’m ready for it.” There was a perplexed frown on his face; he was obviously puzzled by her manner. “I’m sorry that I was longer than I said. Is that it? One thing led to another. You know how it is, Pet.”
It had pleased her so much when he had called her Pet on the plane. Now it infuriated her. “No, I don’t know how it is. But I’m beginning to suspect. And don’t call me Pet. I’m neither your pet nor your plaything.”
The brilliant blue eyes flicked over her; the puzzled frown remained as one dark eyebrow lifted. “Is this supposed to be a joke?” he asked in a voice that still managed, if only just, to maintain quiet reason.
“If it is, it’s on me,” she flung at him in fiery bitterness.
The eyebrow slammed down. He was not inquiring now, he was demanding. “What is this all about?”
