Yesterday's Husband Page 2

  ‘I’m not hypocrite enough to pretend that I was sorry to hear of your father’s death,’ he said bluntly. ‘But I hope it wasn’t painful.’

  A shadow crossed her face as she thought of the agonising weeks she had spent in the private hospital at her father’s bedside. Weeks when she would have given anything for the friendly touch of Richard’s hand on her shoulder.

  ‘It was,’ she said hoarsely.

  ‘I’m sorry. Liver cancer is a dreadful disease. But I’ve got to hand it to you, Emma. You showed a lot of guts in tackling it the way you did. I know you were close to your father and it must have been hell to see him die by inches. I also think you did an amazing job of taking over Prero’s when you were only twenty-one.’

  Emma felt surprised and grateful at this unexpected praise. Her pale cheeks flushed with colour and her eyes brightened.

  ‘Th-thank you,’ she stammered.

  ‘Of course, the recession must have dealt you some pretty heavy blows since then,’ continued Richard, scrutinising her shrewdly. ‘Times haven’t been easy to property developers, especially those with large office holdings in the central business district. Tell me, how is the company performing now in your view, Emma?’

  The question shot out like a bullet from a gun and wounded Emma to the heart. For a moment she contemplated telling him the truth, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to make such a humiliating confession of failure. Instead she forced a strained smile to her lips.

  ‘Times haven’t been easy,’ she said glibly, ‘but on the whole I think the company is doing very well indeed.’

  With lazy, unhurried movements, Richard set down his glass and rose to his feet. Then, moving around the table, he leaned forward and caressed Emma’s cheek with an enigmatic smile on his face.

  ‘You’re a barefaced liar, sweetheart,’ he said softly.

  Her senses reeled as if he had assaulted her. The double shock of his words and his touch were too much for her to deal with. The colour drained away from her cheeks and her heart began to pound violently. She tried twice to speak and failed. Then her words came out in a hoarse croak.

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Emma shuddered and flung back her head, feeling a terrible pain jolt through her entire body as if she really had been wounded. Shaking her head in a dazed fashion, she gave Richard a haunted look as he resumed his seat.

  ‘Then I suppose the whole Sydney business community knows?’ she demanded. Her throat felt so tight she could hardly force the words out.

  ‘No,’ replied Richard in measured tones. ‘You’ve concealed matters well and, to your credit, I must say you ran a damned hard race to save the company. If the Sawford merchant bank hadn’t failed, you might even have made it. As it is, you’re at the end of your rope, aren’t you?’

  Emma shuddered again.

  ‘Yes.’

  Richard caressed his glass with a long brown finger, as sensually as if he were stroking a beautiful woman’s neck.

  ‘Just as a matter of interest,’ he said, ‘what are you doing on an expensive holiday when you’re about to go bankrupt? Is there some good reason for it or is it just another one of your spoilt-little-rich-girl tricks?’

  This lazy innuendo, delivered hot on the heels of the shock he had just dealt her, made Emma’s over-strained temper snap. Leaping to her feet, she stared at him with flashing eyes and gritted teeth.

  ‘Damn you!’ she cried. ‘Did you just come here to insult me?’

  Awkwardly she sidled between the chair and the table, intent on putting as much distance as possible between herself and Richard. But as she emerged from the cluster of furniture his voice cracked through the air like a whiplash.

  ‘Don’t leave yet, Emma; we haven’t finished.’

  ‘Well, I’m finished with you,’ she flared. ‘You never could watch me spending money without carping about it, could you? And I don’t suppose it makes a blind bit of difference to you that I could have a perfectly good reason for being here!’

  ‘Such as?’ he taunted, raising one eyebrow indolently.

  Her body was shaking so much that she had to clutch the back of a chair for support. How could she tell him the truth? That the real reason she wanted to come here was because it was the one place on earth where she had once been perfectly happy. A happiness based on being with him. That was the last thing she wanted to admit to him now.

  ‘I don’t see that it’s really any of your business,’ she said. ‘But if it’s any comfort to you, I did feel guilty and worried about the thought of spending money on a holiday, although the few thousand dollars it cost for this would just be a drop in the ocean compared to the debts I’m going to owe very soon. But as a matter of fact I didn’t pay for this holiday. It wasn’t even my idea that I should take it. It was my mother’s and she put up the money for it, not me.’

  ‘Your mother?’ echoed Richard in surprise. ‘Do you mean you’re seeing her these days? I thought good old Daddy had forbidden it.’

  ‘Don’t speak about my father in that hateful, sneering voice,’ blazed Emma. ‘I was twenty-one when he died, a grown woman. I know he and my mother were on bad terms after the divorce, but I felt I had to make my own choice about what I did.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Richard bitterly. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t stand up to him on a few other issues, or maybe you wouldn’t have stuffed up your life the way you did. You were certainly well and truly under his thumb when I knew you.’

  ‘I wasn’t!’ cried Emma.

  ‘Really? I beg to differ. In fact, I’ve always thought that if it hadn’t been for good old Daddy maybe you wouldn’t have jumped into bed with Nigel Wellings while you were still married to me.’

  Emma’s skin went cold and clammy with horror at this cruel reminder of the past.

  ‘You bastard!’ she hissed. ‘You know damned well it didn’t happen like that. Look, if you’ve just come here to insult me, it’s a total waste of time. Now do me a favour, will you, and leave?’

  ‘No,’ said Richard softly.

  ‘I’ll have you thrown out!’ threatened Emma.

  He gave an unpleasant laugh.

  ‘Really?’ he taunted. ‘Now that will be interesting. What will you tell the hotel staff when you ask them to come and throw me out? After all, darling, I’m your husband. You told the man at the desk you were expecting me tonight. He made a point of mentioning it to me when I asked about you. Won’t it all be rather embarrassing for you?’

  Emma shuddered and fell silent. The scene would not merely be embarrassing, it would be utterly unthinkable. But before she could say another word, Richard continued in a dangerously silky voice, ‘So you’ve got a lover, have you? Well, I can’t say that really surprises me, knowing you as I do. But I rather object to having him smuggled in under my name. Who is the lucky man anyway?’

  ‘Nobody!’ cried Emma. ‘I only said that because they were offering to put me at a table with other tourists. I wanted a bit of privacy!’

  Richard’s even white teeth gritted together in a feral smile.

  ‘I’ve told you once you’re a barefaced liar,’ he murmured. ‘And now I’ll say it again. I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Well, I can’t care what you believe!’ cried Emma in a voice shaking with rage. ‘Because it’s all over between us, isn’t it? So why don’t you just get out? Go on, get out!’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Richard, still with that same dangerous smile. ‘I’m not leaving till you’ve heard my proposition. You see, Emma, I just may be able to save you from bankruptcy.’

  Emma’s whole body felt suddenly cold and still.

  ‘You’d do that?’ she breathed. ‘But why? I always thought you hated me.’

  Richard’s blue eyes narrowed shrewdly.

  ‘Maybe I do, but I have my reasons. I’ll tell you about them over dinner tonight. Of course, there’ll be conditions.’

  ‘Conditio
ns?’ said Emma in a high, frightened voice. ‘What kind of conditions?’

  Richard’s fingers flexed and unflexed slowly as if he thought he was holding her in the palm of his hand.

  ‘Conditions which I don’t think you’ll like,’ he purred. ‘But then that’s part of being rich enough to call the tune, isn’t it, Emma? You probably remember the pleasure of holding that kind of power, don’t you, sweetheart? Now, what time would you like to eat? I’ll tell you what. You put on your prettiest dress and I’ll call for you at seven…’

  After the door had closed quietly behind Richard’s departing back, Emma sank down on one of the chairs in a daze of disbelief. So often in the past she had daydreamed fervently of the day when Richard would seek her out. Somehow all the festering hurts and longstanding bitterness that had sprung from their estrangement would be smoothed away and they would feel the same passionate love for each other that they had felt when they first met. But never in her wildest moments had she dreamt of a reunion like this one. Meeting Richard again so unexpectedly had shocked her beyond measure. And all the old wounds which she had thought healed, or at least numb, seemed to have broken open afresh. A raw, painful sense of humiliation assaulted her as she thought of this recent encounter. There had been no doubt whatsoever that Richard still hated her. Equally, something in the expression in his eyes told her there was no doubt that he still desired her. Just as she desired him. The shameful, humiliating fact was that she only had to look at him to experience a flood of pulsating warmth through her entire body. If only he had come back to her in love, not hatred, she felt certain that they would now be naked together in the big bed upstairs. Covering her face, she let out a low groan. Why had he come? Why? Why? Why? It made no sense. Why should he want to save Prero’s from certain disaster? If he hated her, wouldn’t it make more sense simply to let her sink without throwing her a line? And what sort of proposition did he have in mind?

  She couldn’t answer these questions and brooding over them only gave her a headache and a strong urge to burst into hysterics. Pulling herself together with an effort, she rose to her feet. There was no sense in worrying herself sick. It would be more sensible to go out for a swim, change into her best clothes and meet him at dinnertime on her own ground, as the hard-headed, cool businesswoman she had become in the past few years. Setting her lips grimly, she rummaged in her bag and found a large beach towel, a skimpy emerald-green bikini, sandals and a bottle of suntan lotion. Thus equipped, she made her way down to the pool.

  The setting was idyllic and, if she had not been so upset by Richard’s unexpected arrival, all her worries would have ebbed away at the sight of it. In fact, it wasn’t just one pool but several winding in a serpentine pattern in and out of the landscaped gardens. Two or three changing-huts, open to the breeze and with orange tiled roofs, offered welcome shade, while carved stone elephants on the tiled surrounds of the pool squirted water from their upraised trunks. In the background a line of palm trees flailed like green windmills in the breeze from the ocean. Emma slipped out of the sarong that she was wearing over her bikini and dropped it on to a bench in one of the changing-huts. Then she slid into the deliciously warm, silky water. It was heavenly to lie back floating and stare up into the cloudless blue sky. If only Richard hadn’t come, this would have been a marvellous vacation. Perhaps it still would be if only she could persuade him to go away and leave her in peace. For somehow she had an ominous sense of certainty that his proposal to save Prero’s was going to come at a price that she wasn’t prepared to pay.

  She found out how accurate that presentiment had been when she and Richard met for dinner that evening. He arrived on the dot at seven o’clock looking coldly handsome in a lightweight white dinner-jacket, black trousers and white shirt. Emma had dressed equally carefully. Not because Richard had told her to put on her best clothes, but because the knowledge that she looked as glamorous as possible gave a badly needed boost to her confidence. She had swept her dark hair up into its usual chignon at the back and she was wearing a long frock of scarlet chiffon with a sweetheart neckline and a gold and pearl necklace around her throat. Tawny eyeshadow brought out the gold flecks in her eyes and a light touch of blusher high on her cheekbones concealed her pallor, while her lips were painted a defiant scarlet to match the dress. Richard gave her a small, ironical bow when she opened the door to him.

  ‘Very attractive,’ he commented.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said curtly. ‘Shall we go?’

  The restaurant was on the fifth floor of the main hotel building with a panoramic view over the ocean. The front door was flanked by two huge statues of fierce-looking Indonesian warriors intricately carved in stone and lit from below so that their eyes seemed to gleam wickedly. A smiling girl in a scarlet sarong came forward from behind a desk flanked by masses of greenery to ask their names.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Fielding,’ said Richard as casually as if they had been together for the past eight years.

  ‘Of course, sir. Please come this way.’

  The restaurant was dimly lit in order to take full advantage of the magnificent view over the ocean and Richard seemed to loom like a caveman beside her as they picked their way through the flickering candlelight. At last the waitress showed them to a table discreetly secluded by an ornate carved screen from the rest of the room and with a superb view of the moonlit ocean far below. Emma felt as nervous and tongue-tied as if she were fifteen years old when Richard held out one of the cushioned bamboo chairs so that she could sit down. When he was seated too, the waitress spread large scarlet napkins on their laps and handed them each a menu.

  ‘May I get you some pre-dinner drinks, sir?’ she asked.

  ‘Emma?’

  ‘Oh, just a gin and tonic for me,’ said Emma hastily.

  She felt far too agitated at this moment to know or care what the local drinks were, although normally she was quite adventurous when it came to sampling regional specialities.

  ‘That seems a bit tame,’ said Richard, his eyebrows shooting up. ‘I’ll try the arak cocktail myself. But I do hope you are going to be a little more adventurous when it comes to choosing food, darling.’

  Darling! thought Emma scathingly. Well, that was definitely for the benefit of the waitress, not her. But why was Richard behaving like this? Was it simply good manners to avoid embarrassing other people by displaying the hostility between them? Or was there something more to it? She was relieved when the waitress returned with their drinks and she was able to take a sip of the bitter, refreshing liquid. In the background a western-style dance band began to play softly with a catchy rhythm and again that odd sense of unreality took hold of Emma. If it hadn’t been for the tell-tale muscle twitching in Richard’s cheek, she might have thought they were here for a second honeymoon. When the waitress returned to take their orders for the meal, the illusion was intensified. Letting his fingers close briefly over Emma’s hand, Richard looked up at the waitress with the heart-stopping smile that had once made Emma go weak at the knees. Then he turned the smile back on Emma full force and she made the disturbing discovery that it still did make her go weak at the knees.

  ‘I think some chicken satay with peanut sauce to begin with, don’t you, sweetheart?’ he suggested. ‘And after that the rijstafel to share. And perhaps a platter of tropical fruit to follow. Oh, and please ask the drinks waiter to bring us a bottle of champagne.’

  But when the waitress had glided away, Richard’s smile vanished too. Leaning back in his chair, he drummed his fingers on the table in a rapid, staccato beat and scrutinised Emma’s face with far less charm.

  ‘I heard that Nigel Wellings went broke after he left you,’ he announced.

  Emma opened her mouth to protest that Nigel hadn’t left her. In fact it had been the other way around. And then she wondered wearily what was the use. After all, she had grown used to Nigel’s spite. He had been coldly furious when she had explained to him after a few months that she had mistaken he
r feelings, that she did not love him and never could. And on her father’s death she had asked him to leave Prero’s for good. He had never forgiven her and he had also told her in no uncertain terms that her money had been the only thing that had attracted him to her in the first place. Naturally that had hurt Emma’s pride, but on the whole she had found it an enormous relief. Genuine love that ended was such a painful experience that she wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even Nigel. And when he’d spread the rumours around Sydney that he had walked out on her, she had thought it more dignified not to protest. She thought it more dignified even now.

  ‘Yes, I heard that too,’ she said coolly, taking another sip of her drink. ‘It was unfortunate for him.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ said Richard in a dangerously mild voice. ‘In my opinion, it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving man. But I suppose that if you were in love with him you may have felt differently about it.’

  Emma flinched and said nothing, but fortunately the wine waiter arrived at that moment with their champagne and made a great fuss of uncorking and pouring it.

  Still studying her face, Richard picked up his glass and smiled grimly as the man departed.

  ‘Mind you, I did think you might come crawling back to me like a whipped puppy after he left you,’ he announced in conversational tones. ‘But I was surprised to find that you did have some pride, Emma.’

  Emma had always had an explosive temper. Now, with her nerves ragged from the events of recent months, Richard’s needling was simply too much.

  ‘A puppy, Richard?’ she mocked. ‘Surely not. You’re making a bad mistake if you think that I’m any kind of a lap-dog, darling. All you’ll get from that theory will be a bite on the wrist.’

  Richard swirled the champagne in his glass and looked at her over the rim. Then he took a sip and set it down.

  ‘Oddly enough, that’s quite a tempting prospect,’ he said quietly. ‘You still haven’t lost your sexual allure, you know, Emma. As a matter of fact I still find you quite powerfully arousing.’