White Lies (18 page)

'I'm not promiscuous.' Her solemn eyes dared him to say otherwise. 'Dave was the only man who'd ever made love to me.'

'I know and I feel honoured,' Pascal said gently. His mouth drifted over her forehead, her cheekbone, her throat. He murmured persuasively into the warm hollow where her pulse throbbed with a faltering beat, 'Stay with me. We'll take it one step at a time. No demands, no expectations. Just the warmth that we feel for each other. Both of us have been hurt. You especially. We deserve something good in our lives, don't we?'

He smiled at her with such affection that she felt her heart lurch with longing. If only he loved her. If only she loved him. It would be so wonderful. But too good to be true.

'I can't-'

'Or won't? Or are you afraid of being hurt? Don't you think that scares the hell out of me too?' he asked wryly. 'But I trust you because you're gentle and kind and you wouldn't intentionally kick me in the teeth, would you?' She shook her head. 'No. And don't you know in your heart of hearts that I'd never hurt you?'

'Mmm.' It was all she could manage. It was so tempting. But utterly against everything she'd ever held dear: her honour, her self-respect—and the respect of others. If she loved a man enough then she expected him to court her and marry her, not invite her to sleep with him as a cheap and more disposable alternative to a lifetime partner.

'I know you want to stay,' he said throatily.

'I'm not prepared to have a casual relationship,' she said flatly, her voice betraying her regret. And although she did not know it her face showed how torn she was and what an effort it cost her to refuse him. She was close to tears again. Pascal's embrace was so tender, so loving and she wanted to remain in the protection of his arms. 'I could never face myself in the morning,' she muttered. 'I'm not that sort.'

'Spend the day with me. Defer your decision till later,' he suggested.

And because she wanted to be held by him she nodded her head. But she knew what her answer would be.

For a while they lay together, thinking their own thoughts and listening to the bird song, the rustle of the palm leaves and the soft roll of the surf on the beach. Unhurriedly, they then showered and dressed, and walked for miles—first along the dramatic, wave-cut coastline, up and down the cliffs and inlets, and then back through the beautifully kept acres of pineapple fields, mango and cashew-nut trees.

That day turned into another. And another. Neither of them wanted to say the words which would end their time together.

At the end of a week Mandy knew that she had fallen deeply in love with Pascal. And it almost broke her heart when she told him that she would leave later that day because she could see their relationship drifting on with no commitment on his part and she had to go home and live in the real world.

Arm in arm, they wandered in the exuberant gardens where purple-throated and crested hummingbirds hovered in the trumpets of outsize hibiscus and the fluffy puffball trees. He tucked fragrant frangipani flowers in her hair and kissed her so sweetly that she almost cried.

'It's all right,' he said, when she became more and more tense as the afternoon light began to fade. 'I won't bully you. I don't want to hurt you, you see. But I want to be with you, Mandy. I care about you.'

'Don't!' In distress, she wrenched herself away and stood forlornly looking out to sea. The sun was setting. It hung like a huge, glowing orange low in the sky, and soon it would dip to the horizon and then it would be gone and the night would descend. Black and uncom-promising. And she'd have to take the boat back to the hotel before dark. 'I can't bear it!' she whispered.

'You can't bear what? To be alone again?'

She didn't respond. How could she tell him that- after such a short time—she knew that they could be happy for ever? But they'd been together constantly, night and day, waking and sleeping. They'd spent more time with each other than many couples did before becoming engaged.

And she knew that they were right for one another with a certainty that was all the more poignant because she could not possibly voice it now. Too soon. Men didn't have that intuition, did they? He'd think that she was trying to push him into a deeper commitment and that she was seeking financial security after all.

'I think we'd better not see each other again,' she croaked.

Pascal groaned and took a step towards her, then somehow stopped himself although she knew that he was as unhappy as she about the parting. Yet he was refusing to set his heart free. He seemed sure that he only wanted someone for sex and to ease his loneliness. Whereas she had love to give. Now. It overwhelmed her at that moment, perhaps because their separation was so close, and she began to shake.

To disguise her weakness, she sank to the grass and pretended to be waiting for the sunset. But she clenched her fists till her knuckle-bones stood out hard and white and as raw as her emotions.

'Mandy,' he said helplessly.

The sorrow in his voice made her turn her head away because his misery was too much for her. He needed her. That was evident in the way they held one another after making love, in their happiness together, the close friends they'd become. Everything in her nature balked against walking away from him.

'Don't ask it,' she begged shakily, barely audible. 'You're asking for more than I'm prepared to give.'

In an electric silence they watched the sun sinking, closer and closer to the hard-edged horizon. Its lower rim began to disappear while the sky blazed scarlet and purple.

As if driven, Pascal said roughly, 'If you're leaving, you must go in a few moments.'

'I know!' Her hand lifted helplessly and fell again, and she pressed it to the ground as if she might anchor herself there.

'Time is running out for us.'

'Please!' she wailed.

Then she felt her chin being tipped up and Pascal's satiny mouth on hers, his tongue stroking along the trembling fullness of her upper lip. 'I won't let you! We have to be together!' he breathed. Warm and welcome, his arms enclosed her and she was his willing prisoner. 'I don't care how. I'll make a commitment if that's what you want. Love isn't something I can give.. .yet. I'm still hurting, Mandy. I still think of Caroline and Charles too much, too often. But I do care about you.'

'You do?' she asked shakily.

He smiled. 'Yes, I do. I can give you a comfortable life, a companion, someone to share those special moments with. I can give you a kind of happiness that we might not find elsewhere. We can both give each other incredible sexual satisfaction. That alone is something rare.' He touched her hair wonderingly and Mandy's heart lurched at his tenderness. 'I want you to marry me, Mandy. It seems the only solution.'

'Marriage? Marriage!' There was a sudden rush of warmth enveloping her, a surge of great emotion that cut all sense from her brain. Marriage. It would be wonderful. But she loved him. How long before he accepted that he might be falling in love with her? She bit her lip and looked down, her lashes fluttering heavily on her cheeks. 'I—I don't know...'

'I think you do,' Pascal said gravely. 'We've both known it from that moment when I first held you in my arms. Look at me!' he ordered. She did so, reluctantly, knowing that she'd be taken captive by his eyes. 'I will promise you two things,' he said huskily. 'To remain faithful to you, and to trace your family. One way or another I'll do that for you, even if I have to travel the world to do so.'

'Oh, Pascal!' she cried, choking with emotion. He cared that much. Her eyes softened with love. 'It's all I've ever wanted!' Pascal and her family! The joy made her face radiant and then a shadow crossed it. Dared she risk something so precious as her heart in a marriage with a man who openly admitted that he wasn't in love? Maybe he'd never love her. Maybe he'd never forget Caroline...

He took away all her doubts by kissing her. Gently, hungrily, desperately. And while his ruthless, searching mouth plundered hers she couldn't keep her rationality intact. His ardour tugged at her heartstrings cruelly. With him she could forget everything. Even her senses.

'Hold me, Mandy,' he groaned hoarsely. 'Hold me. I need you!'

'I need you,' she said, bewildered by her defencelessness against his passion.

'Then you'll say yes,' he persisted, his fierce gaze melting into her.

It was a foregone conclusion. Of course she'd marry him. And trust to fate. 'Yes,' she whispered helplessly, afraid even as she said the word. 'Yes!'

F
IVE
days later Mandy was married on the hotel beach at sunset, beneath a bower of orchids and lilies. Still dazed. Still unable to unwind her mind from its muddled state because Pascal had flung her into a round of meetings and arrangements, flying her to Barbados to buy her wedding dress, choosing the food for the banquet, colour schemes for the flowers, the cake, guest lists...

She'd barely had time to breathe, let alone think. But when she had—usually when she was soaking in the bath—she'd felt scared—oh, so scared—fretting that she'd been stupid—which was true—but knowing that she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Pascal. He was everything she could wish for: attentive, courteous, kind and very, very loving.

As the days had rolled on she'd seen how well he managed his staff and how much they respected him and referred to him with affection. They seemed to like her too, and she felt sure that, in time, the people at the hotel would realise that she had been the victim of a misunderstanding.

Pascal would be good to her, she knew that. But marriage was a huge step. And she was taking it so quickly that it tended to unnerve her till he held her again in his arms, and then all her fears flew out of the window. The fears came back again, however, whenever they were parted, and had done especially when she'd spoken to her superior on the phone and meekly agreed that she was crazy, but asked if he'd say goodbye to the people on her round for her.

Sometimes, curled up on the big sofa with Pascal in the evenings, talking about their plans, she'd felt as if it was all a dream and it was impossible that she could be so happy.

And now the impossible was coming true. She was wearing an alarmingly expensive designer-label wedding dress and holding Pascal's hand while he thanked all the guests, staff and fascinated holiday-makers for celebrating his wedding to 'the most beautiful woman I have ever seen'.

It was a lovely compliment and it brought a shy smile to her face. But it was the dress which gave her the illusion of beauty, with its soft peach shading, the long, flowing skirt and sweetheart neckline. And the bodice fitted so snugly to her ribs and waist that it emphasised the soft swell of her breasts and hips in the most flattering way. She felt gorgeous, and with Pascal's melting gaze on her she basked in his frank admiration.

'Thank you!' she murmured, her shining eyes fixed on his.

He put his hand on her flowing hair and, careful of the orchids twined in it, he gently kissed her. 'Thank
you
,' he said softly. His smile took her breath away and she sighed happily.

Somewhere to her left a woman sniffed. Startled, she looked up, to see his unmarried aunt Susannah, overcome with emotion. Mandy abandoned Pascal and ran to Susannah, catching her hands warmly. 'Don't cry! We are happy,' she said in reassurance. 'I know what Pascal means to you. I'll make him happy.'

'I know! I know he loves you!' Susannah smiled through her tears, clutching her tightly, and Mandy wished that it were so.

On the few occasions when Susannah had left her apartments in the big house and spent the evening with them, she had teased Pascal because everyone had been saying that he talked of nothing but his bride-to-be.

Mandy had felt a wrench of unease that he was fooling people so ably. And a slight tremor of fear had run through her when she'd thought of his skill at deception. But she'd told herself that he was only trying to hide the truth—that he was marrying because she'd safely fulfil his physical needs.

Mandy felt a deep affection for Susannah, perhaps because she looked so like Pascal with her curly fair hair and blue eyes, and because Susannah evidently adored him. So, for his aunt's sake, Mandy kept up the pretence that she and Pascal loved one another. Maybe it would be mutual one day. It was her secret hope and she hugged that idea to herself every night before she fell asleep.

'We'll only be gone for a few weeks,' she said encouragingly as Susannah blew into her handkerchief. 'Then we'll be together as a family.'

His aunt howled in response to that remark. Pascal came and put his arms around the two women, laughing them out of their tears. 'The boat's waiting,' he said lovingly. 'Take care, Susannah.'

'You're.. .you're like a son to me,' mumbled his distraught aunt.

'I know. You were a good mother to me when I needed one. But I'm a bit old to be your son, Susannah!' he laughed. 'There's hardly sixteen years between us! Cheer up,' he said affectionately. 'And let me know if my father's condition deteriorates,' he added, frowning as he took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his trouser- legs ready to wade through the surf. 'Don't tell him I'm married yet. I need to do that in my own time.'

'I wouldn't tell him,' said Susannah fervently. 'Not in a million years.'

'Are you taking me on honeymoon or not?' protested Mandy, and he laughed, sweeping her up into his arms. 'I'm only teasing. Your aunt adores you,' she said gently.

'I know. I'm all she has and she fusses over me as if she were my real mother!' he answered wryly.He strode through the surf to the waiting pirogue and placed her gently on the wide wooden seat before joining her. With the boatman singing a soft, Creole boat-song in the background, they made the short journey to his motor yacht, moored a little way offshore.

Beneath the stars that night they ate a wedding barbecue on deck, some twenty miles to the south of St Lucia. Mandy lay on the lounger on deck, watching the surf wash the beach of a deserted island a few yards away, and thought that she'd never been so happy in all her life. Pascal was kind. The crew adored him. He'd charmed everyone at the wedding and had made it a day to remember all her life.