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Authors: Dorothy Vernon

BOOK: Edge of Paradise
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If that was an attempt to placate the actress it failed abysmally, highlighting as it did Zoe's pettishness because another girl was getting noticed. Zoe had no cause to be jealous of the attention Jeremy was paying to her, Catherine thought. Anyone with a scrap of intelligence could see that he was only being kind to the
stranger
in their midst. No one could outshine Zoe, who was dramatically beautiful anytime, but who took one's breath away that evening in a pure white dress that complemented her golden suntan and black hair.

The meal over, Gus suggested they have their coffee and brandy or liqueurs on the terrace. ‘You four go ahead. I'll see what's keeping the coffee.'

Jeremy rose to pull Catherine's chair back for her, but Paul got there first, his fingers pleasantly proprietorial on her arm as he led her out to the moon-draped terrace. Gus, or someone, had put on a record and the strains of music to dance to followed them out.

Without asking her preference, Paul guided her past the tables and chairs. ‘Can you dance?'

‘Uh-uh.'

‘In the old-fashioned way?' he asked, sliding her fully into his arms.

‘Is there any other way?' she asked recklessly, not knowing what had got into her.

‘You're like the cat who swallowed the cream,' he observed. ‘Perhaps I should amend that to the kitten who swallowed the cream,' he added after a pause.

That was just how she felt. Even if Zoe was looking daggers at her it was nice to be made to feel important and fussed over by three such attractive men, because even though Gus was playing a minor part when compared with the
other
two, he had still made her feel very welcome at his table.

However, modesty insisted that she take the cliché literally. ‘I am. That
Crème Brulée
was out of this world. And I've never tasted steak as delicious, although perhaps there was too much wine for my poor spinning head in the red wine sauce.'

‘Entrecôte Marchand de Vins
is one of Piers' specialties.

‘Piers? I thought I should compliment Cleopatra.'

‘Don't be fooled by all that “back to the kitchen” talk. She may be a good housekeeper, with an attractive and amiable disposition, but she can't boil an egg.'

Catherine pondered on that for a moment and then said, ‘If you heard Cleopatra say anything to me about getting back to her kitchen, you also overheard something else.'

The devil himself was in Paul's smile. ‘You mean about Cleopatra scolding you for not treating me right? The island women have a wonderfully uncomplicated attitude toward sex and pleasing their menfolk. The man is the master and a woman should be grateful for the high regard he pays her by fancying her.'

‘And no doubt you agree with that?' she said, sarcasm and disapproval mingling in her tone.

‘I do, most decidedly. Cleopatra talks a lot of sense.' Again that smile. ‘You
would
have
benefited
by having your bottom smacked when you were a child. I have my own theory to add to that. It's never too late to repair a fault.'

‘Just you try!'

‘Is that an invitation?'

‘Get lost!'

‘That's not a very nice way to show your appreciation for making it right for those two scoundrels, Piers and Jock, as you asked me to.'

Her chin came up. ‘About that . . . it would be interesting to know exactly what you did say to Gus. How did you make it sound credible?'

‘All that matters is that I did; I didn't exactly want to look a fool. A guy needs his wits about him to keep up with you. You are aware, I take it, that Gus and party were my intended guests this evening?'

‘I thought they might be.'

‘Perhaps you'd tell me just how you proposed to get back to New Providence to be at the hotel in time for dinner? You knew I wanted you to be there. I said no tricks, remember? Did you go off to get back at me?'

‘No. I didn't think there would be any question of my not being back in ample time. Deirdre, Piers and Jock led me to believe we would only be out at sea for the day. I didn't expect them to stop off here. If a trick was pulled, it was
on
me, not
by
me.'

‘I'd like to have been there to see the
expressions
on their faces when they saw the helicopter, put two and two together, and realized their little game had been scotched. I bet they got quite a shock.'

She giggled. It hadn't been funny at the time, but she could look back and see the hilarity of the situation. ‘They did, as a matter of fact. I've felt sorry for Jock all along, because it's obvious that he's easily led, but I'm beginning to have a sneaking sympathy for Piers, as well. I caught a glimpse of him earlier on, as we came down to dinner. He didn't know where to look. He can't seem to take it in that I'm staying here as a guest.'

‘I think Piers will be more prudent in future,' said Paul. ‘I'm not saying that he won't ever bring another girl over when Gus is out of the way, but next time he'll be more cautious in his selection. I could beat the living daylights out of him when I think about it. And I'm not too pleased with you, either.'

‘I know. Thank you for not telling me off in front of Deirdre when we came upon you at the waterfall, though. And thank you for smoothing things over for Piers and Jock.'

‘It was the least I could do, considering that I was the one who botched things up for them.'

‘You?'

His eyebrows lifted in incredulity. ‘You didn't honestly think my being here was a coincidence, did you?'

She nodded in embarrassment. ‘I must be
even
dumber than I thought, because yes, I did. I thought you turning up here was pure good fortune. Is that what you meant when you said one person's quick-thinking can be another's bad luck?'

‘What else? When Joseph told me he'd seen you getting into Gus's launch, I knew that it would be most unlikely for me to see you back at the hotel in time for dinner. Having already told everyone about you, I wasn't going to be stood up. I had to do something fast.'

‘Joseph told you!' she said, frowning heavily. She remembered seeing the Bahamian porter and wondering if he would say anything to Paul, but she had decided that he wouldn't stoop to telling tales.

‘It wasn't like that. Joseph didn't come racing to find me with a spicy piece of gossip. He came to tell me because he was worried and he didn't know what else to do. All the locals know what Piers and Jock get up to and he was concerned for you.'

‘I'm sorry I misjudged Joseph.' She paused, then said, ‘You still haven't explained how you worked things out. Does Gus know how stupid I've been?'

‘No. I concocted a tale about wanting to come here to get one aspect of the film fixed firmly in my mind before the crew arrives. Gus applauds dedication to duty and fell in with the change of plan. He's also a man of the world, so he wouldn't expect me to give up my
comfort
because of it. What more natural than for me to send Piers across in the launch for you? I explained Deirdre's presence by saying she just happened to be with you and came along for the ride. Satisfied?'

‘Apart from being referred to as your comfort, yes. I wouldn't like Gus to know what a brainless idiot I've been. Looking back, I can't understand why I was so foolish. It wasn't a conscious decision, more like drifting into something without knowing what was happening. I'm sure that could never happen to you,' she said with positive emphasis.

‘At one time I would have agreed with you,' he replied, frowning heavily, as if at a discovery he'd made, one he didn't much care for, but using a certain wistfulness of tone that created considerable pleasure in her heart.

On the whole, she thought, she'd come off rather well, even if it had been a bit like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. At this precise moment, the fire was decidedly cozy.

During the latter part of the conversation their feet had stopped moving in time to the music, but he'd kept his arms 'round her. Suddenly one hand lifted to the back of her neck; the other slid down her spine, coaxing from her a smoldering response that came as a revelation. Flames burst inside her, igniting a sensuality she had been unaware of possessing. Her mind blanked out in shock; her body
instinctively
arched itself to his, promoting a closeness between them that she had never before known with any man, giving her intimate knowledge of the fact that she was not the only one awash with fire.

‘You do pick your moments,' he said groggily, bending his head to take her eagerly given lips, drawing hungrily of their sweetness as the hand on the small of her back pressed harder, making his whispered, ‘How much I want you!' superfluous. She had been trembling with the awareness of that before he murmured a single word.

‘We'll have to join the others,' he said in a smothered voice.

She was glad that one of them had remembered where they were in time, and also grateful for the patch of shade which Paul had thoughtfully drawn her into, even though it was no doubt obvious why he'd taken her aside.

She nodded tremulously, a throbbing alertness to every nerve and sensation in her body taking the power from her legs. Without his arm 'round her waist, assisting her progress, she never would have made it back.

‘I was just going to shout “cut,”' Gus said when they rejoined the others. ‘Your coffee's getting cold.'

Catherine declined the brandy which Gus tried to press on her. She was tingling from head to foot as it was, and feeling quite good,
she
decided. Scared out of her mind, but good.

This would certainly rate as an evening to remember. At lunchtime, Deirdre's presence had done much to neutralize the undercurrents. Impressions were sharper in her absence. Deirdre had been
de trop
, not one of the essential characters. There she went again, Catherine thought, likening the situation that was unfolding around her to a stage play. But that was exactly how it seemed to her. Everyone knew their lines except her; she was the only one stumbling along, although not totally without direction. The feeling that she was being manipulated by Paul still persisted. Gus, she thought, wasn't a principal character, but he was necessary just the same. He was the audience the other characters needed to play off, a hugely appreciative audience, one who was finding it all highly entertaining. Zoe and Jeremy were the lovers—lovers in dissent, she gathered. Had they tired of each other, or was one simply retaliating to signs of boredom in the other? Jeremy had gone out of his way to be kind to her, had flirted with her. Perhaps it had been a form of self-protection, because he suspected that Zoe was reverting to type and getting ready to treat him as shabbily as she had her director boyfriend. Did he think he was soon to be cast aside in favor of some new distraction? Had she turned her thoughts to Paul? She had a way of looking at him,
guardedly,
from under lowered lids. Catherine knew from Paul's secretive smile that he was aware of it, even if, so far, he wasn't doing anything about it. Was it because he was astute enough to see through her? Did he know there wasn't one drop of sincerity in Zoe's entire system and that she was as false as the eyelashes she kept lowering at him, but in such a captivating way that Catherine wondered how long he would hold out?

Catherine's chair was next to Paul's. His tanned hand rested on the arm. Her own slid forward, obeying a compulsion, a yearning to feel his flesh against hers, wanting to cut Zoe out of his thoughts. Their little fingers brushed. Her wildest imaginings couldn't have foreseen the amount of feeling it was possible for a little finger to transmit. It brought her to her senses, to the realization that the fire wasn't cozy anymore. It was a raging inferno that would consume her if she allowed it to.

Her hand jerked back in alarm. She shuddered to think what would have happened if they'd gone immediately to their room after that explosive kiss. She thanked the blessed angel of convention that had forced them to observe the social laws and rejoin their host and fellow guests. She had been given time to come out of the sensual euphoria that kiss had induced. Knowing how easily Paul could arouse her, and to what dynamic effect, plunged her into panic. No way could she
spend
the night alone in a room with him. She must find Cleopatra and ask to be given a bed somewhere else. In a house this size there were bound to be plenty of empty rooms available.

The coffee cups had not yet been removed. She saw them as a means of skipping out and going in search of Cleopatra to make her request before it got any later. She stacked everything onto the tray, announcing, ‘I'll take these through to the kitchen.'

‘Don't trouble yourself with that,' Gus said airily.

‘No trouble,' she insisted.

But when she got to the kitchen there was no joy, either. It was spic and span and deserted. She washed the crockery, dried each piece and put it back on the tray for someone else to put away. Still no sign of Cleopatra. She was just wondering whether to try to find her when Paul appeared at the kitchen door.

‘You wouldn't be following me, would you?' she inquired, bristling as his long stride shortened the distance between them.

‘We're out of ice. I volunteered to fetch it.'

‘Oh!' She sounded more defiant than chastened. ‘Do you know where Cleopatra is?'

His eyes narrowed, active and suspicious. ‘Why do you want her?'

‘To ask for another room. I should have insisted on sorting things out before, when I found out it was you I was supposed to be
sharing
with and not Deirdre. But your arguments were very persuasive. I didn't want to cause a scene and embarrass you in front of your friends. But now I don't care if I raise the roof if that's what it takes to get it through to you that I am not spending the night with you.'

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