A Dangerous Taste of Passion Page 6

  But when she opened the door she looked with some surprise at her visitor. ‘Laura!’ she exclaimed blankly. It was months, possibly even years, since she and Laura Mathews had spoken to one another. ‘What are you doing here?’

  It wasn’t the most enthusiastic of greetings and Laura pulled a rueful face. ‘Hi,’ she said casually. ‘I know it’s been a while, but I was passing and I just thought I’d call and see how you were getting on.’

  Lily was still trying to decide what to say when Laura spoke again. ‘May I come in?’

  ‘I—oh, of course.’ Lily moved aside automatically and Laura stepped into the hall. ‘Go into the living room. I’ll make some coffee.’

  ‘That would be nice.’ But, instead of doing as Lily had asked, Laura followed her down the hall and into the kitchen with an unwelcome familiarity. ‘This place doesn’t change much, does it?’

  ‘Do you mean this house or the island?’ Lily asked, tamping down her resentment at Laura’s words.

  ‘Well, everything, actually,’ replied Laura carelessly. ‘I did wonder if you’d be married by now.’

  Lily was fairly sure she hadn’t wondered any such thing, but she took the girl’s words at face value. ‘Not me,’ she said as the coffee started filtering into the jug. Her lips twisted. ‘How about you?’

  Laura lounged into one of the chairs at the scrubbed pine table and gave a shrug. ‘I’ve had offers,’ she declared. ‘But I guess I’m too picky.’ She propped her arms on the table. ‘So, how are you? How is your father?’

  ‘We’re fine.’ Lily managed a smile. ‘Working hard, as usual. Daddy and I don’t see a lot of one another, actually. He’s always in his study.’

  ‘Still composing those fire and brimstone sermons, hmm?’ murmured Laura mockingly. ‘I wonder if he really scares his congregation.’

  ‘I don’t think his sermons are meant to scare anyone,’ said Lily evenly. ‘And I don’t recall them threatening fire and brimstone either.’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean.’ Laura waved a flippant hand in front of her face. ‘You have to admit, he does take himself rather seriously, Lily. Grant says all Presbyterians are like that.’

  ‘I doubt Grant Mathews has been inside a church often enough to make such a judgement,’ returned Lily tartly.

  She didn’t like Laura making fun of her father, or the girl’s habit of calling her own father by his first name. It seemed disrespectful somehow, but she was probably old-fashioned.

  ‘Hey, I was only joking.’ Laura watched Lily taking mugs down from the wall cupboard with reproachful eyes. ‘So—are you still working at the agency?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ agreed Lily. ‘What about you? Have you given up your job in New York?’

  ‘Sort of. I was bored of it.’

  Laura spoke carelessly enough, but Lily had a sudden presentiment that the other girl wasn’t telling the whole truth. Laura simply didn’t want to admit the truth of why she had come back.

  ‘Are you staying long?’ asked Lily, wondering again why the girl was here. They seemed to have little in common these days.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Laura shrugged. ‘But that’s enough about me.’ She regarded Lily with strangely speculative eyes. ‘Tell me what’s been happening on the island. Have you met any exciting men lately?’

  Lily was glad to see that the coffee was ready. With colour rising up her throat, she went to fill the mugs. ‘Do you have to ask?’

  ‘I think so.’ Laura’s expertly shaped brows drew together. ‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t been spending all your time working at the agency or looking after Daddy.’

  There was sarcasm and a certain bitterness in her words and Lily glanced over her shoulder with startled eyes. ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘I understand you’ve been seen with our oh-so-notorious new resident,’ Laura remarked, her eyes narrowed in accusation. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know who I mean.’

  Lily lifted the jug, hoping she could pour the coffee without spilling it. ‘Do you mean Mr Oliveira?’ she asked casually, filling the mugs with a determined hand. She lifted one and set it down in front of Laura. ‘There you go. Do you want cream or sugar?’

  ‘Neither.’ Laura made a careless gesture and took a sip.

  Then, realising something more was needed, ‘Thanks.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Although it wasn’t really. However, guessing Laura intended to stay in the kitchen, Lily excused herself from her visitor and carried one of the mugs through to the study.

  ‘It’s Laura Mathews,’ she told her father flatly. And, at his look of enquiry, ‘Yes, I was surprised too.’

  Back in the kitchen, Laura had left the table and was pouring herself another mug of the black brew. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ she asked, raising the pot as Lily came in. ‘I need this.’

  Lily shrugged. ‘Help yourself,’ she said, taking a carton of milk from the fridge and adding a little to her own coffee. Then she joined the other girl at the table. ‘What’s this all about?’

  ‘What’s what all about?’ Laura asked, feigning ignorance.

  ‘Your being here,’ said Lily drily. ‘We’re not usually on your visiting list.’

  Laura blew out a breath. Then, after a few moments’ consideration, she got to the point.

  ‘Tell me about “Mr Oliveira”,’ she said, making imaginary quotes around his name. ‘I understand you know him quite well.’

  ‘Hardly.’ Lily was determined not to be drawn. ‘I believe he has an interest in the agency. That’s all.’

  ‘Really?’ Laura put down her mug and regarded Lily with some scepticism. ‘So what were you doing having lunch with him a couple of days ago?’

  Lily flushed. She couldn’t help it. She should have known that a juicy piece of gossip like that wouldn’t escape the island grapevine. She swallowed. She only hoped that no one knew what had happened after the meal.

  Now, realising there was no point denying it, she said, ‘I did have lunch with him, yes. I...well, he saved me from being killed by a speeding minibus, and he insisted on taking me somewhere where I could sit down and recover.’

  ‘How cosy.’ Laura didn’t sound as if she believed her. ‘I didn’t know Oliveira was such a considerate man.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Once again, Lily sensed the undercurrent in her words. Then, tentatively, ‘But I thought your father was a friend of his.’

  Laura snorted. ‘What gave you that impression?’

  Lily frowned. ‘I suppose because he now owns the house at Orchid Point.’

  Laura sniffed impatiently. ‘I see you’ve heard about Grant’s misfortune in Las Vegas.’ She scowled. ‘I suppose that horrid little woman told you.’

  Lily’s lips parted. ‘What horrid little woman?’

  ‘You know. She works for you—or she used to. Nothing happens on Orchid Cay without the voodoo priestess knowing all about it.’

  ‘If you mean Dee-Dee—’

  ‘Of course I mean Dee-Dee, if that’s her name.’ Laura was contemptuous. ‘She never liked me, and people like her always envy people like Grant who succeed in life—’

  Lily was tempted to say it was because Laura’s father hadn’t succeeded in life that the islanders were gossiping about him, but she held her tongue.

  ‘Anyway,’ Laura continued, ‘Grant didn’t sell the house to Oliveira. He bought it from the man who won it from Grant in a rather dodgy game of poker.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So,’ Laura went on insistently, ‘tell me about Oliveira. What did you talk about? Have you been to the house?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Lily was getting impatient now. ‘I’ve told you, I hardly know the man. It’s the agency he’s interested in. Not me.’

  ‘Well, if Ray Myers has any sense he’ll steer well clear of him,’ said Laura quickly. ‘And you too, Lily. He’s way out of your league.’

  But not yours, thought Lily shrewdly, wondering if that was Laura’s ulte
rior motive for being here. To warn Lily off.

  ‘Well, thank you for that,’ she said evenly. ‘But I am old enough to make my own decisions, you know.’

  ‘Not with men like him, you’re not,’ retorted Laura. ‘I bet you don’t know he has a conviction for drug smuggling. That’s why he had to leave New York in such a hurry.’

  ‘He doesn’t—’

  Lily started to say that Rafe hadn’t been convicted of anything, but that would just be playing into the other girl’s hands.

  ‘And that’s why his wife walked out on him too,’ Laura continued knowingly. ‘Although I have heard they’ve been seeing one another recently. Perhaps she’s forgiven him. Who knows?’ She took another sip of her coffee. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, Lily, but you really need to know who you’re associating with. If your father didn’t always have his head stuck in some ancient text or other, he might see what’s going on.’

  ‘Daddy doesn’t always have his head stuck in ancient texts,’ Lily defended her father fiercely. She was beginning to wish that Laura would just go.

  ‘Whatever.’ Laura was indifferent. ‘I just thought I ought to warn you, that’s all. That man is not to be trusted.’

  * * *

  Rafe considered leaving the text he was loaning Lily’s father at the agency. It would enable him to see Lily again without appearing as if he was looking to deepen their relationship. He had no desire to create a situation that might become difficult if he decided to invest in the business.

  Or that was his excuse anyway.

  Besides, he wanted to see Myers again. He’d had the man email the agency’s profit and loss statements to him and he needed clarification on certain points concerning the figures.

  But, somehow, the idea of turning up there on such a pretext might appear manufactured. Whatever way he looked at it, it would be easier to deliver the text to the Reverend Fielding himself.

  He chose a time when he felt sure Lily would be at work.

  He glanced at his watch as he parked outside the rectory and saw that it was barely eleven o’clock. Hours before the agency closed its doors for lunch, even if it did so. Hours before Lily could be expected back at the rectory.

  But when he walked towards the house, he glimpsed Lily working in the back garden. She’d evidently been deadheading some of the flowers, loading the vegetation into a small wheelbarrow, possibly to be used as compost later on.

  In a sleeveless white vest and cotton shorts that exposed the slender length of her legs, she looked stunning. The vest revealed that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and the shorts were evidently old and barely covered her bottom.

  Dios, what was he thinking? Rafe was tempted to just turn around and go back to his car. But something, some extrasensory perception perhaps, caused her to look up and see him.

  And then it was much too late to have second thoughts.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAFE DIDN’T HAVE to be psychic to see Lily was startled. Her face suffused with brilliant colour, and he could almost see her pulling at the hem of her shorts.

  Don’t do that, he wanted to say, even though she represented everything he was trying to avoid. But there was no denying his reaction to her, however inappropriate that reaction might be.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she exclaimed at once, abandoning the wheelbarrow and facing him across the width of the garden.

  And Rafe couldn’t blame her for the question. After all, he had said she should avoid him in future.

  ‘I brought the text for your father,’ he said, making no attempt to approach her. ‘I assumed you would be at work.’

  ‘Oh!’ Was that disappointment he heard in her voice, or was that only wishful thinking? ‘Well, Daddy’s not here. From time to time, he conducts services on the adjoining island, San Columba. He left this morning. He’ll be back later today.’

  ‘I see.’ Rafe fingered the wrapping on the book he’d brought for her father to see. ‘That is a pity. It seems I must leave this theological text with you.’

  ‘Or you could come back tomorrow,’ Lily suggested stiffly. ‘I’m sure Daddy would like to thank you personally for your interest.’

  So polite!

  Rafe expelled an impatient breath. Was he really responsible for her present attitude? He feared so. And why, when he knew he should be grateful, was he so reluctant to turn around and go away?

  The rustle of clothing behind him had him glancing swiftly over his shoulder—only to find an elderly West Indian woman, wearing a long multi-coloured dress, regarding him from the porch.

  Dee-Dee, he assumed, remembering what Carla had told him. Tall and obviously overweight, she had the sharpest brown eyes he had ever seen, and they were presently regarding him with a mixture of wariness and suspicion.

  ‘You need any help, girl?’ she asked, her eyes switching to Lily, and Rafe could almost feel the girl’s relief at their stilted tête-à-tête being interrupted.

  ‘No.’ Lily took off the clumsy gardening gloves which she’d been using to deadhead the plants and dropped them on the low stone wall that edged the flower beds. ‘Um... Mr Oliveira was just leaving.’ She paused. ‘He’s brought a book for Daddy to see so perhaps you could take it, Dee-Dee? My hands are dirty.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Dee-Dee came down off the porch and Rafe was obliged to put his parcel into her hands. Hands that were adorned with an assortment of rings, he noticed, henna-painted symbols on her fingers adding to the tattoos that covered her ample arms.

  ‘How you liking living on our island, Mr Oliveira?’ she asked as she tucked the package under her arm, and Rafe felt obliged to answer her.

  ‘Very much,’ he said, his gaze flicking almost compulsively in Lily’s direction. ‘It is certainly a change from what I am used to.’

  ‘Y—e—s.’ The woman drew out the word, regarding him through narrowed lids. ‘Orchid Cay is nothing like New York. I’ll give you that.’

  ‘No.’ Rafe wished she’d go back into the house so that he could at least say goodbye to Lily in private. ‘Much warmer, I think.’

  ‘I suppose that depends if we’re talking about the climate,’ remarked Dee-Dee, her lips twisting mockingly, and to his relief Lily decided to intervene.

  ‘I don’t think the reason why Mr Oliveira chose to leave New York is any of our business, Dee-Dee,’ she said, but for the first time that day a trace of amusement lurked at the corner of her mouth. ‘Put the parcel in Daddy’s study, will you? That way he’ll see it as soon as he gets home.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Dee-Dee was evidently not liking being dismissed so summarily. ‘You need me, you just yell, right?’

  ‘I will.’

  The two women exchanged a speaking look and, without any other alternative, Dee-Dee turned and went back to the house.

  ‘Your housekeeper does not trust me,’ Rafe remarked as the West Indian woman disappeared indoors, and Lily sighed.

  ‘Dee-Dee is protective of me, that’s all.’ She bit her lower lip and once again Rafe was disturbed by the urge he had to taste the luscious fullness of her mouth. ‘And now you’ll have to excuse me too. I’ve been working in the garden since Daddy left and I need a shower.’

  Rafe inclined his head, once again tormented by images of her naked, the water cascading off tip-tilted breasts and deliciously rounded hips.

  Trying to ground himself, he muttered, ‘Is there some reason why you are not working at the agency?’ He paused and then went on harshly, ‘Do not tell me Myers has dismissed you for having lunch with me.’

  ‘For being late back, perhaps?’ Lily shook her head. ‘No. But when Daddy is away, someone needs to be here at the rectory in case they’re needed.’ She paused. ‘Besides, I’ve been working late a couple of nights this week and I was due the time off.’

  Rafe nodded, wondering what she’d been working on. A second set of financial statements, perhaps? Sooner or later, he’d have to speak to Myers himself.

  ‘So,’ s
he murmured, taking a step in his direction, ‘if that’s all...’ She paused. ‘I have to visit one of Daddy’s parishioners this afternoon.’

  Rafe wanted to say more; in truth he wanted to ask her to spend the rest of the day with him, but common sense prevailed.

  ‘Please tell your father I was sorry to miss him,’ he said politely.

  ‘Adios, Ms Fielding. It was very nice seeing you again.’

  * * *

  Lily sat at her desk in the inner office of the agency, listening to Ray trying to defend his decision to hire the Santa Lucia out to customers when its engines had been badly in need of an overhaul.

  The group from Boston who’d hired the Lucia for a fishing trip had been forced to make landfall in Montego Bay when one of the engines had failed. The group had had to limp into the port and fly back to Orchid Cay from Jamaica.

  At present, the two men who had organised the trip were in the agency, demanding not just their money back but the price of their air tickets as well. And Lily couldn’t blame them.

  In her opinion, Ray was lucky not to be facing calls for compensation or criminal charges, or both. If a storm had blown up while the Lucia was disabled, he might well be having to defend his actions to the port authorities instead of two irate bankers.

  She sighed. Ray was a fool. He always played the odds and usually the odds were against him. Like this business with Rafe Oliveira, for instance. Did he honestly think he could get away with falsifying the figures he’d emailed to the other man? Lily was sure it would take someone infinitely more cunning than Ray Myers to get one over on him.

  There was the sound of a hand slamming down on the counter and a few hushed threatening words and then—silence. Had the men gone or were they still there, waiting for some response from Ray?

  She had her answer a few moments later when Ray himself ambled round the screen and regarded her dourly. ‘Bloody morons,’ he said angrily. ‘Who the hell do they think they are?’

  Lily breathed a little more freely. ‘What happened?’