Today, Tomorrow and Forever Page 6

  There was a lengthy pause. Both Katerina and Arthur seemed to be waiting for Paul to take the lead. Shanna had studied body language and it seemed blatantly obvious they were expecting him to give the orders. The whole situation made her tingle with suspicion.

  Paul had told her to trust him. She wanted to trust him. And, when he took her in his arms, she did trust him. But now, when he was sitting opposite her, she felt she couldn't trust him an inch. There was something she was not being told.

  With a toss of her head she returned his glance over the guttering candles, challenging him to explain.

  Instead he said smoothly, 'Actually, I have business to attend to in Paris, so I must leave first thing tomorrow. I was rather hoping we could sign any official papers tonight and have done with the whole thing as soon as possible. This uncertainty isn't fair on anybody. Metcalf told me he was sending all the official stuff over, and the sooner it's dealt with the better. Was I misinformed?' He frowned and turned to Arthur.

  'Not at all, old chap. Everything's ready. I wasn't going to mention it until after the brandy, but I do understand your hurry.' He turned to Shanna. 'If you say your mind is made up?'

  She frowned.

  Paul stepped in, saying, 'I've managed to combine other business in Europe to make this trip worth while. My time is short, you know.'

  'Oh, I see.' Shanna felt suddenly guilty. Here she was trying to squeeze a few extra days for the gratification of her own private amours when Paul was having to fit the whole subject of Tago Mago into a business schedule. 'I'm sorry.' Catching his eye, she gave him a little smile. 'I just didn't realise you were so busy.' It was difficult to keep a shade of irony out of her tones' though' when she added, 'Perhaps you can tell me a little more about your business interests later?' What was it Katerina had said? He earned his living roughing it around the world?

  The blond head inclined courteously enough, but, she noticed, he avoided her eye. He's annoyed, she thought. He can't like people messing up his plans. I should have guessed that from the super-efficient way he organised the last leg of my trip here. In a way it was a relief to know he wasn't entirely perfect.

  Brandy was served indoors and, true to his word, Arthur produced a sheaf of papers and fully appeared as if he expected Shanna to sign there and then.

  'But,' she demurred, 'I would like to talk first.' Fully conscious that both Arthur and Katerina were only employees, she expected them to take the hint and leave, but when they continued to sit there with the obvious intention of sharing in the discussion, she got up, only just managing to conceal her annoyance. 'I really can't sign anything this evening. I need time. In fact,' she went on before anyone could suggest otherwise, 'I shall only sign them when I return to London and have had a word with my own solicitor.'

  She got up, placing her empty glass on a side table. 'I wouldn't mind going for a stroll. That was an excellent meal, Katerina, thank you.' Then, fully aware that she was making some sort of exit, she sauntered as slowly as she dared on to the terrace. Let Paul follow or not, she told herself in confusion. But, if he did come out after her, there would be some explaining to do.

  She had got as far as the gate when, half turning, she noticed he had come out to stand in the lighted doorway with the other two. Something was said and he left them both, skirting rapidly round the pool towards her.

  Still walking slowly, she began to head up the track towards the cove.

  'Shanna! I know you've seen me. Wait a moment!'

  'Yes, what is it, Richard?' she asked ironically when he caught up with her, then in a sharper tone, 'I notice you answer very easily to your alias. Why do they know you as Paul? Your official name is surely the one used in the will?'

  He slipped an arm through hers and walked beside her, matching his pace to her own. 'Everything can be explained, but it's a question of finding the right moment.' He looked down at her flushed face. 'I doubt whether now is the right moment either. You look ready to explode!' He tried to make his tone jocular, but it sounded strained to Shanna's ears and she looked at him strangely. His face had that closed, hurt look again. He frightened her like this, making her quake a little before the kind of contained authority he possessed. He could look so charming in that cool, elegant style of his, like a man at home in hotel bars with a beautiful woman or two on his arm, but there was also something else, a hardness that was all male, a kind of physical toughness, something uncompromising that she had never met in any man before. She could guess he would show immense strength of will if it came to it, and she trembled to think she might find herself being pitted against it.

  'Paul, or Richard --' She paused. 'Tell me one thing; why are you so keen to sell this lovely place?'

  'I'm not.'

  'But --'

  'That charade in there—I let it pass because I don't think Katerina or Arthur realised you genuinely mistook me for Richard Mather. Why should they? It was your own mistake.' His lips compressed. 'I hated letting it go on, but I could imagine all the questions you might start asking when you realised your mistake.'

  He looked down at her and his blue eyes were bleak with some unspoken emotion. 'I did ask you to trust me. I can't explain fully ... I don't want to explain, that's closer to the truth. But you must sell, Shanna. A lot of people are depending on it.' He paused and said heavily, 'May I ask you to do it as a favour to me?'

  She gave a short laugh. 'A favour? Why? What is all this?'

  He shook his head. 'It has to be unconditional.'

  'Do I owe you that sort of favour?' She felt a sudden panic. Had it all been a way of setting her up? Paul evidently wanted the island—at least, he wanted her share. What simpler plan than to meet her on the way over here and sweet-talk her into giving it up? For a full minute she was convinced this wild idea was all true. 'A favour? For one or two kisses, perhaps?' Her voice cracked. 'I don't understand you, Paul. Why must I sell?'

  'Please, Shanna.' His voice shook, and with a sudden savage movement he dragged her up against his chest, running his hands possessively over her body from thigh to shoulder, allowing his fingers to rake through her hair, finally holding her face between his two hands to enable him to look down into her face with a strength that hurt. The savagery of his emotion set off fires of yearning, dissolving at once the momentary suspicion that his kisses had only been a ploy, and she leaned back, expecting his kiss, longing for it, knowing it would be true.

  But he held her for a long moment without moving, her face crushed between his two hands, the play of emotion on his face etching it with deep lines, making him look suddenly old. 'You must do it, Shanna. You must sign those papers tonight.'

  Her voice sounded scarcely above a whisper as she asked, 'And if I won't?

  'Then I shall keep you here until you do. Believe me, I can do it.'

  His hands slid away from her face after he spoke, releasing her now that he had exposed a greater hold. It took some minutes for her to realise he was serious.

  'Keep me here?' She gave a short laugh. 'For how long?'

  'For ever, if need be. Listen, Shanna, it's going to mean nothing for you to sign. You'll make money, don't you realise? What's wrong? Are you sticking out for more? All right, have more. But you must sign.'

  'And if I don't,' she finished ironically, 'you'll keep me here for good? Paul,' she ran a hand through her hair, 'all I ask is that you tell me the truth. What is it you're hiding? And how, for heaven's sake, can you promise to pay more?' She stopped suddenly. A thought had struck her. But it didn't seem possible. She turned away. Ahead lay the island, shrouded in night. Arthur's warning came back to her, but the thought of returning to the villa had no appeal either.

  She turned back, biting her lip. Suddenly there seemed nowhere to turn. Paul followed her as she began to retrace her steps, then on an impulse she turned again and started to head into the island.

  'Listen, Shanna, don't go wandering about here in the dark. Come back with me now. Let's sit down and talk figures.'

&
nbsp; 'What authority have you to talk figures?' she asked letting the note of derision show. His words of a few moments ago came back. 'I can't even trust you to give me your real name, so how can I believe anything you say about a purchase agreement, which, I should point out, isn't to be made with you at all ... Is it?' she asked pointedly.

  When he didn't answer she turned distractedly towards the lighted villa. It was silly to go rushing off into the night as she felt impelled to do, and she might as well take the lesser of two evils if that was what it was.

  Paul followed her, making no attempt to put his arm through hers now.

  She still felt trapped by him, and it made her lash out at the nearest victim. 'If you're really in charge, as you seem to be,' she said acidly, 'please will you get rid of those two so we can sit down and talk? I thought they were supposed to be Aunt Vi's employees? They're taking a lot on themselves to join in the discussion, don't you think?'

  'They were with her for years. They feel like part of the family.'

  'Good for them. Just get rid of them. You'll have to be honest with me, Paul. You tell me to trust you; well, you trust me as well. I don't see what it is you can't tell me.'

  'No, but you would if you knew the whole truth.' He spoke half to himself. When she turned his face was haggard. Something about him, despite the harsh expression in which his features were set, made her want to reach out to him. But that same coldness held her back, too. They walked on in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

  When at last they reached the villa again, Katerina and Arthur seemed to have taken the hint, for they were nowhere to be seen.

  While Paul poured her a drink, Shanna sat down on one of the loungers beside the pool and watched the lights dancing on the rippling surface. It was just the night for a moonlit swim. The sky, undrained by the glare of city lights, was aswarm with stars.

  Paul pulled up a chair beside her. He gave a sigh as if from the depths of his soul. 'Oh, yes,' he murmured, his glance sweeping the scene and finishing on her face, 'I can see why you want to hang on to all this. But think, with the money offered you could find a place with everything you see here --' he waved an arm to include the heavens arching over them, 'and,' he grimaced, his face scarcely relaxing into an attempted smile, 'somewhere on a more convenient route from Gat wick, too.'

  'I could do, that's true—if that's what I really wanted. But is it?'

  'What?'

  'What I really want?'

  'You tell me . . . What do you really want, Shanna?' he asked, voice dropping to a husky depth that sent warning shivers up and down her spine.

  He knows everything, she thought. He knows precisely how I feel about him. He can even tell that the only reason I'm hanging on here is because I want to hang on to him. Remembering what he had said at dinner, she asked, 'Is it true you're just fitting this into a business trip in Europe?'

  He nodded, not really listening. 'I run a world travel organisation,' he told her, bored. 'Diplomats. Top executives. People who need high security.'

  'Richard has business in Asia.'

  'Richard? You know I'm not Richard,' he told her heavily. 'Why did you think I was?'

  She blushed. 'Something Katerina told me.' She was non-committal. 'You seemed to fit the image.' She raised her head. 'Plus you've been talking about getting me to sell up as if you have a vested interest in the place.'

  'I have.' He turned away.

  'Are you the man who's offered to buy it?'

  'One of them.'

  'So who are you?'

  'Paul Elliot. You already know that.' He smiled bleakly, noting the scepticism in her face. 'You mean, officially who am I?'

  She nodded.

  'I'm "Inter-Zone Flight-Master"—IZFM to you.'

  She gasped. 'Even I've heard of them, and I never travel more than fifty miles outside London.'

  'Why not?' He gave her a sharp glance.

  'Can't afford the fares or the time,' she replied, shrugging.

  He looked vaguely relieved. 'Is that all? I thought maybe you had some other reason.'

  She blinked. 'Has anybody ever told you that you sometimes talk in riddles?'

  His mouth quirked at the corners. 'Not in so many words. I'll try to do better in future.' He gave her a tender smile. 'Will you bear with me for a little while? It's important.'

  'I guess so. You know, don't you, that you can ask me to do anything, and sooner or later I'll come round to it?' She pulled a face. 'Nobody else can get me to do a thing usually. I'm known for making a fuss and creating havoc --'

  'I bet!' he teased. 'Looking at you, I'd say you were the most laid-back lady on Tago Mago.'

  'Not difficult,' she quipped. 'I'm probably the only one except for Katerina. But, Paul, joking apart, what are you going to do about Richard? It's all very well getting me to agree to sell to IZFM, but what if he refuses?'

  'He won't. He doesn't give a damn.'

  'You know him that well?'

  'I know him well.'

  'You don't like him.'

  'Like? Oh, he's affable enough. Maybe I just don't approve of him?'

  Shanna felt a quickening of interest. 'Why ever not?'

  'He's a bum. Never done a day's work in his life. Expects everybody to dance attendance on his wishes and whims. It runs in his family --' He broke off, as if having said too much. 'I've told you,' he went on, taking a different line, 'he doesn't care so long as he gets a good price. But Arthur and Katerina, you know, they've both told you, haven't they, how much they want to stay here?'

  'So you, out of the kindness of your heart, decide to buy up?'

  Paul didn't reply. Instead he leaned across, and she felt a wave of desire as he came close. 'Oh, Paul!' She put up a hand as if to ward him off, her eyes luminous in the glow.

  Gently but with the same enigmatic look in his eyes, he stroked her face with one thumb, following the line of forehead and brow, tracing the gentle curve from cheekbone to jaw, smoothing out the little frown lines above the turned-up nose, gently caressing the generous mouth with the tip of a finger. Then, as she knew he would, he slowly began to lower his blond head, and, as she knew she would, she felt her resistance ebb and in a moment she was opening her mouth, yielding to the pressure of his tongue against her own, and reaching up with both hands to pull him down to her. They were both breathing rapidly when he dragged himself away.

  'This is rather public, Shanna, and I don't want to hurt you. You're not the type I want to love and leave.'

  'Must you?' she cried in a small voice. 'Must you leave me, Paul?'

  The bleak look returned and his eyes slid past her, searching among the shadows of night as if an answer could be found there.

  'I know you have to go away, but surely it doesn't have to be the end for us?' He played with a tendril of hair on her brow and she said, 'Please, Paul, must it be goodbye?'

  He rose to his feet, as if he had come to a sudden decision, reaching down in one movement to pull her up beside him, his face hard. Crushing her against his chest he rasped, 'Tonight you sign the papers. Tomorrow I leave the island with you. We part at the airport. Ask nothing more of me. I beg you, Shanna, ask nothing more. I will ensure you leave here a richer woman than when you arrived.'

  With a little cry she wrestled free of his arms and stepped back. 'I won't, Paul. I won't do it!'

  'Then you'll have to stay.' With a dark look he strode rapidly away, leaving her beside the pool with her wildly careering thoughts. What did he mean? She would have to stay? As a prisoner? But that was absurd.

  'Wait!' she cried, but he was already disappearing into the house, his profile a mask of iron.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shanna's streak of stubbornness rose to the surface. She would find out what was at the bottom of all this, and she would do it now.

  With the intention of finding Paul and having the matter out with him, she got up and hurried inside. A light was burning in the atrium, casting shadows into the corridors that led off it. Pausi
ng to listen for some tell-tale sound that would tell her which way he had gone, she hesitated. A pall of silence hung over the whole villa.

  Worried that she might open the wrong door by mistake and disturb someone in bed, she cautiously hurried down the nearest corridor, listening outside the first door she came to for a moment before cautiously turning the knob.

  The room was in darkness and plainly Paul was not there. She tried the next door and the next, with the same result, then sped back to one of the other corridors. There were three in all, and only when she came to the third did she find a light on. Expecting to see someone within, she was annoyed to find the room empty. The shutters were open to the night and she got a glimpse of the shiny surface of the pool through the window before casting her eye hurriedly over the rest of the room. Evidently am office—there were all the latest communication aids imaginable. She began to gape as her glance slowly took in the equipment. It all seemed highly powerful for one old lady travel writer. She frowned. What else was Paul trying to hide from her? There was surely more to the place than she had imagined. It almost looked as if this was a base of operations. But surely he wouldn't choose to work from a remote place such as this when there were all the capitals of the world to choose from?

  Looking round, she realised there was no visible clue to what sort of business was run from the office, for all that met her gaze were rows of bland grey plastic machines, metal cabinets, consoles, banks of telephones, and—her breath quickened—the only touch of individuality in the whole place—a photograph in a plain silver frame on the wall beside the main keyboard. It was a woman, not more than twenty-five by the look of her, and Shanna was half-way across the room, hoping for a closer look, when she heard the sound of raised voices outside. Someone was on the terrace. The voices had lowered, but in the still night air the words were clearly audible.

  'I'll blame you if anything happens to her.' It was Paul.

  'You should have got Arthur to tell Metcalf she wouldn't be welcome,' a voice she didn't recognise replied.