Page 29 of His Last Gamble

Charmaine blinked. What? ‘Oh, y-yes,’ she said. ‘That’s right. I needed a change.’

Payne’s eyes narrowed for a moment. She was lying to him again. He just knew it. For a while there, he’d thought he was onto the truth at last. Unbelievably, this beautiful woman was shy and introverted, living a restricted and boring, loveless life. It had made sense to think that she’d come to her senses and realised she needed to break out of her shell. But that wasn’t it, he knew that now. There was still something else. He was sure of it. She was up to something, or hiding something.

Well, two could play at games like that.

‘Well,’ he drawled, leaning closer, watching a tiny vein throb nervously at the base of her throat, ‘I can help you with that. You want to live life to the full, Charmaine Reece, I’m your man. I’ll show you the time of your life.’

And what, he wondered, fascinated, would she make of that?

Charmaine choked back a wild desire to laugh. She’d just bet he could. Oh yes. You wanted to dabble your toe in the world of male-female sexuality? Payne Lacey was an expert. You wanted to throw all caution to the wind and let chance or fate or sheer luck dictate your life — who better than a casino owner and noted gambler to lead the way? You wanted to get your heart broken and your life smashed to smithereens — call on an impresario.

‘No thank you!’ she snapped, standing abruptly and flushing wildly. ‘Now, are you going to take me back to the hotel, or do I have to walk?’

Payne grinned. ‘Oh, I think we can do better than that. There’s a spare bedroom on board. More than one in fact.’

‘If you think I’m going to spend the night on board this boat with you, then you have another think coming!’ she all but shouted at him.

‘What’s the matter, little Charmaine? Scared?’ he taunted. ‘And I thought you were trying to be all grown up now.’ He saw her hands clench into fists, and anticipated a stinging blow.

At least, if she were out of control, she might at last reveal her true self. He was sure, now more than ever, that she was covering something up, and doing herself no good in doing so. This woman was made for love and life and the good things. If only she’d let him give them to her!

Charmaine swallowed hard. Things were getting out of hand. She had to do something. Salvage something from this miserable mess.

‘All right,’ she said quietly. ‘I have no sleeping things, no toothbrush even, but . . .’ she tried to sound wearily resigned, like a grown-up indulging an aggravating child.

‘We have all that in the guest bedroom,’ Payne interrupted her ruthlessly, but his voice, in contrast, was soft and warm, almost apologetic. ‘And it’s all right. Really. Your sleep will be undisturbed, I promise.’

Charmaine smiled grimly. You bet it would be, she thought. Because I intend not only to lock my door, but also push a chair under the handle as well!

And as she allowed him to show her to her room — a lovely room in shades of peach and cream with turquoise accents — she was determined to remain cool and aloof at all times. No more acting like a screaming fishwife.

‘The bathroom’s just through there. Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he said softly, and closed the door behind him.

He’d sounded so tender just then, so gentle, that for a moment she just stood there gaping at the closed door. Then she stopped daydreaming and turned the lock with a sharp, rewarding click, then reached for the nearest hardback chair and rammed it hard underneath.

But as she did so, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she really doing this to keep Payne Lacey out? Or to keep herself in? Because as she got ready for bed, then lay tossing and turning sleeplessly in the big queen-sized bed, her body ached for something far more alluring than sleep. And she knew that, if she didn’t keep herself rigidly lying in the bed, then no locked door or cleverly placed chair would keep her from making an utter fool of herself.

* * *

When she awoke, she was puzzled. Something was very strange. And then she realised what it was. She was moving. Or rather, the whole room was moving!

It took her a moment to remember the events of last night, and then she shot up in bed and glanced wildly around. But the chair was still in place and she hadn’t gone sleepwalking in the night.

Another glance at her watch showed her it was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning! With a small cry she shot up and went to the shower, washing her hair and changing back into her shorts and T-shirt. What she really wanted to put on was something white and floating. But what was the use of making herself look good for Payne? It was not as if she could ever allow him to actually be her lover.

She sighed and stepped back out on deck, surprised to see that they were nearly at Gold Rock Beach, near the Palace and her own small hotel. In fact, a few minutes later the engines stopped and she heard the unfamiliar clanking of chains as the anchor was lowered.

‘Hello, sleepy head,’ Payne said cheerfully, suddenly appearing beside her. ‘Do you want breakfast — or should I say brunch, or are you anxious to get back to the hotel?’

‘The hotel, I think,’ she said quickly, refusing to meet his eyes.

She watched him climb lightly down a ladder on the side of the yacht and release a small boat with a foldaway outboard motor. Once he was on safely on board, she turned around and backed carefully down the ladder herself, knowing all the while that he was looking up at her, and her nearly exposed bottom in the tight-fitting shorts.

She stepped onto the boat, which rocked treacherously beneath her, and sat down on a wooden plank seat a little more quickly and far more firmly than she’d intended. She shot him a look, just daring him to speak, but he was looking innocently behind him, fiddling with a rope.

When he turned back to her, his face was utterly deadpan. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

She nodded, her lips pressed tight in a thin, hard line.

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