Page 47 of His Last Gamble

CHAPTER TWELVE

When she awoke the next morning, the ring felt heavy and alien on her finger, and yet she simply couldn’t make herself take it off. Every time she tried, her heart rebelled. Instead, she rolled over in bed and stared blankly at the wall. She had just one more day and night in the Bahamas then she and the rest of the gang were due to fly back to England.

Would she be with them?

She still didn’t know the answer to that, one near sleepless night later. Eventually sheer exhaustion had caused her to doze, but if her subconscious had been tackling the problem without her, it didn’t seem in any hurry to let her know what it had concluded!

With a weary sigh, she eventually dragged herself out of bed, showered and pulled on a pearl-grey all-in-one jumpsuit with a huge zipper up the front, one of Jo-Jo’s post-modernist creations. She rolled the sleeves back to her elbows in a workmanlike gesture and simply pulled her hair back in a ponytail, securing it with a silver scrunchie. She didn’t even bother to add make-up.

On anyone else the stark outfit would have looked drably industrial, but with her skin now a richly glowing honey in colour, and with her feminine curves lending the almost shapeless garment dips and hollows in the all the right places, she looked unknowingly and incredibly sexy.

Having made a swift exit from the casino last night, dashing off before anyone could so much as congratulate her, or in Lucy’s case question her, it was time for Charmaine to face the music. She walked next door and tapped on the door, and a moment later her sister’s groggy voice called out for her to come in.

Lucy’s hotel room was an exact replica of her own, done in slightly differing shades, and as she walked to the French windows to draw back the curtains, Lucy burrowed out from beneath the bedclothes.

‘What time is it?’ she demanded sleepily.

‘No idea. Shall I make you some coffee?’ Lucy had never been a morning person, and besides that, she’d probably been hitting the champagne cocktails rather heavily last night, after Payne’s bombshell.

And who could blame her?

‘Huh? Yeah, sure,’ Lucy muttered, sitting up and rubbing her hands briskly over her face in an attempt to wake up.

Charmaine returned with the coffee and sat perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Lucy, about last night . . .’ she began quietly.

Lucy grimaced and blew on her coffee, and took a tentative sip. ‘Well, Payne always did know how to grandstand,’ she said, then glanced speculatively across her coffee cup at Charmaine. ‘But I must say, I didn’t think it was your sort of thing.’

Neither did I, until it was happening, Charmaine thought wryly. Because there was no getting around it — Payne’s public proposal and outrageous gamble had made her feel nothing if not alive. And extra special. And terrified out of her mind.

Charmaine knew she should be, at the very least, annoyed with him. He knew her well enough to know that she’d die rather than make a public scene, but surely he didn’t expect her to accept their engagement in the cold light of day?

The thing was, she was feeling too happy to be mad. And yet, she knew, it couldn’t last.

There came a knock on the door, and Charmaine looked up in surprise.

‘Oh, that’ll be room service,’ Lucy said brightly. ‘I ordered the fruit salad for breakfast and the morning papers. Be a love and get it, will you?’

‘Thank you,’ she took the attractively laid-out tray from the beaming waiter and took it over to the bed, then gave him a tip from Lucy’s purse.

‘Uh-oh, looks like you made the front page of the paper,’ Lucy said excitedly. ‘They must have run an extra printing to get it out so soon. Still, Payne’s news, wherever he goes.’

Charmaine felt a chill run down her spine at her sister’s words. She sounded so carefree and almost admiring. Hard to believe it must be eating her up inside.

Nervously Charmaine went back to the bed and perched on the side. ‘What are they saying?’ she asked fearfully.

‘Oh, you know, the usual,’ Lucy said, reading avidly. ‘Some are wondering what the female population of the island will do now that the Bahamas’ most eligible bachelor has finally been snared. Ugh, some tacky hack is giving odds on how long the marriage will last. Bastards! Don’t you take any notice. Any fool can see that Payne’s fathoms deep in love with you.’

Charmaine winced as both guilt and hope washed over her at her sister’s comment, then watched as Lucy tossed the papers aside and reached for her glass of freshly squeezed mango juice.

‘You really are a great actress, aren’t you?’ Charmaine said softly, making Lucy stop, glass midway to her lips, and blink.

‘Well, thank you. I think. Look, sis, I don’t want you to think I’m interfering but . . . well, are you sure about all this?’

Charmaine took a long, shaky breath. So here it comes at last.

‘About what?’

Lucy put down her juice and leaned back against the headboard. ‘About what, she says! Payne, silly. Don’t get me wrong,’ Lucy carried on, leaning forward and reaching out to touch Charmaine’s arm tenderly. ‘Nobody could be better pleased than me to see you finally taking charge of things and getting yourself a love life. But . . . well, to be honest, I thought you’d choose someone a little more . . . I don’t know. Gentle. More your type. I mean, for a first-time effort, Payne Lacey seems so . . .’

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