Page 38 of His Last Gamble

‘Oh no. No, I couldn’t do that,’ she said at last.

‘Why not? You can design clothes here as well as anywhere. Who knows — the Bahamas might even inspire you to greater heights,’ he pointed out.

‘I have a cat,’ she said flatly, then jumped as he burst out laughing.

‘Well you can always bring your cat over here. What’s her name?’

‘His name is Wordsworth. He’s a black and white long-haired.’

‘I’d like to meet him,’ Payne said seriously, although his eyes, when she looked up at him, were twinkling.

Charmaine knew that the likelihood of Payne ever meeting her beloved pet were virtually nil. Now the shoot was over, the girls would be flying back after a few days’ holiday, and she would go with them.

And never see this man again.

‘It’s late,’ she said abruptly, her voice unknowingly harsh and brittle.

‘Is that a polite way of asking me to go?’ Payne mused dryly.

‘Perhaps. But I thought you’d be only too pleased to go. You’ve been doing your best to make it clear you want to keep some distance between us,’ she snapped, then stopped, appalled.

How had she let her own pain make her blurt out her sense of injury like that? What was wrong with her? But to her incredulity, he didn’t try to deny it. Instead he looked at her long and levelly for a few moments, then nodded.

‘Yes, I suppose I have,’ he said at last, with devastating honesty. ‘The thing is, I feel so guilty still, and I’m not used to it. I felt like such a heel over that shark business that I told myself I’d never let anything like it happen again. It seemed the only way was to keep you at arm’s length. But it doesn’t seem to be working, does it?’ he added ruefully, and looked down at her, so close beside him that he could feel her hair brush against his skin as the sea breeze fanned the long silvery locks against his forearms.

All he had to do was reach out and there she’d be — warm and sensuous, a honey trap no man would ever regret falling into.

Charmaine gaped at him. ‘Guilty? But why? I mean, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Anyway—’

She came to an abrupt stop.

‘Anyway what?’ he all but whispered, but she was already drawing away from him and shaking her head.

‘Oh nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

For a second he was silent, as if giving her a chance to change her mind or tell him something. Then he seemed to sigh heavily.

‘So we’re calling a truce then?’ he asked gently.

‘Yes, a truce,’ Charmaine heard herself repeating, even if against her better judgement.

‘In that case, how about a picnic tomorrow? I know just the place. I’ll pick you up at eleven?’

Charmaine nodded weakly. She knew she should have put him off and made an excuse. She knew she was only prolonging the inevitable and letting herself in for more heartache this way, but she just couldn’t resist it.

A few more hours in his company. A little while longer to hear his voice and bask in his attention. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask?

Lucy need never know.

‘All right, eleven,’ she said softly.

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