Bought for His Bed. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ it arrived in time,’ Luke said beneath his breath.

      She smiled radiantly at him, welcoming the swift narrowing of his eyes. ‘Thank heavens. Does he do this sort of thing regularly?’

      ‘He’s difficult. And of course he knows his own worth—people have been trying to tempt him away for years, and he doesn’t really like living in the tropics. Every so often he makes plans to open a café in Provence.’

      Fleur swallowed her first mouthful. ‘He’s a genius,’ she said on a sigh of pure delight. ‘You have to allow geniuses their tantrums.’

      ‘Well, you certainly managed his superbly. But then, as I told you before, I suspect that you have a talent for coping.’ He smiled at her.

      She’d rather have a talent for being a wonderful hostess, or making scintillating conversation. ‘It wasn’t really a problem. He just wanted to vent—and for someone else to take responsibility.’

      Luke eyed her with something like respect. ‘You don’t miss much. That’s why the little café in Provence will never lure him away from here—he doesn’t like responsibility. Whereas you seem to know how to deal with it.’

      ‘It’s easy when it’s not really my affair,’ she returned coolly, reminding him that she was there on a strictly temporary basis.

      He nodded. ‘Possibly, but you showed no hesitation about helping me with Sue Baxter. She sends her regards and her thanks, by the way, and her company is exceedingly grateful to you. I suspect a gift is on its way.’

      Fleur frowned. ‘I did no more than anyone else would have done,’ she said crisply. ‘I don’t want anything for simple human compassion.’

      ‘I did suggest the surf lifesaving club,’ he said with an ironic lift of one brow, ‘and I think they’re doing something about that, but Sue wanted a more personal expression of her thanks as well.’

      Without waiting for an answer he turned to the woman on his other side, leaving Fleur feeling not only ungrateful but ungracious.

      Especially as a small part of her reason for accompanying Sue Baxter to hospital was that she’d felt ill at ease with the company on the beach.

      Oddly enough, not so much here. Whether it was the silk dress, or the magnificent pearl that warmed her throat, or even Luke’s close company, she didn’t know, but she felt more able to deal with the situation.

      ‘How long have you known Luke?’ the man beside her enquired cheerfully.

      Wishing he’d chosen another topic, she smiled at him. ‘Not very long.’

      ‘But long enough?’

      He was slightly older than Luke, she guessed, and disposed to be friendly, viewing her with an approving eye. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, aware that another of her wretched blushes was heating her cheeks. ‘Are you from Fala’isi?’

      ‘An islander born and bred. I grew up with him here,’ he told her. ‘He was one tough kid. He could ride any horse on the island, surf any wave, jump off any cliff into any sea—just keeping up with him exhausted the rest of us. I think his mother wondered what on earth she’d given birth to.’

      Fleur kept her gaze firmly away from the man under discussion. ‘I can imagine,’ she said demurely.

      ‘Ah, well, he learned to control those daredevil impulses—he’s a Chapman, and self-discipline is a big thing for them. But they were great times.’ He looked appreciatively at her. ‘I see you’re wearing the Goddess’s Tear.’

      ‘What—oh, the pendant?’ She glanced down at the exquisite thing.

      ‘That’s the one. I remember the day it was found—fifteen years ago. My cousin dived for it and brought it up. It’s beyond price—utterly flawless—and there’s no other thing like it in the world. The moment we saw it we knew what we’d call it. There’s a legend around the name.’

      ‘I suppose legends go with the territory?’

      He grinned. ‘Absolutely. Luke bought the Tear. I knew he’d had it set as a pendant, but I don’t think anyone—not even his mother or his sisters—has ever worn it.’

      So that was what Luke had meant when he’d said he wanted to convince everyone that this was a serious relationship. Making sure she wore something so precious would certainly do the trick in this group.

      The stone around her neck seemed to grow heavier. Now that she realised its value and rarity she felt branded, as though Luke had somehow stamped her with a sign of possession.

      A prop, he’d called it—an extremely expensive and precious prop!

      Her companion asked, ‘What did he tell you about the local pearls, the golden pearls of Fala’isi?’

      ‘Not a lot.’

      ‘They’re completely unique. They grow in the lagoon of an atoll fifty miles or so from the main island here, and nowhere else.’

      ‘Nowhere in the world?’

      ‘Nowhere. And if you try to transplant them they die. No one knows why. They’re also extremely difficult to use for culturing—for some reason the oyster doesn’t react like others do, so their pearls are hugely valuable. Yours was found on the first day of the new year—the Polynesian new year, that is.’

      ‘Matariki,’ she said, nodding.

      He looked surprised. ‘Oh—of course, you’re a New Zealander. Yes, the day the Pleiades rise in the east. Of course pearls with that superb lustre and soft golden colour play can only be worn by women with a certain skin tone—luckily for you, you have it.’

      Intrigued, Fleur asked more questions about the pearl industry.

      It transpired that he ran the local end of it, and with her encouragement he waxed eloquent about the advances that had been made in harvesting and safety and marketing.

      When she turned to talk to Luke again she met eyes the burnished colour of a sword blade, cold and intimidating with a lick of blue flame in their depths. Her heart contracted into a tight ball in her chest, but she met his formidable gaze with slightly raised brows and a level glance.

      His smile was cool and cynical. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

      ‘Very much,’ she returned with a tight smile. ‘I’ve just been hearing what an adventurous childhood you had. Your parents must have been thankful when you finally grew up still in one piece.’

      ‘My mother was. My father was apparently just as reckless.’ He paused, letting his gaze drift down to the pearl around her throat. ‘What else have you learned?’

      ‘That this pretty thing is rare and very precious.’

      ‘Very suitable,’ he said, his flat, lethal tone contradicting the words.

      What the hell had got into him? Temper brought swift colour to her cheeks. She took a deep breath and returned sweetly, ‘How kind.’

      He laughed and put his СКАЧАТЬ