her.
The stall-holder smiled eagerly at Felicia. ‘Hello, hello! Real pearl, very nice.’
‘Very nice,’ she assented, lifting a strand of the small, oddly shaped beads.
Joshua remained at her side. ‘You want me to spell it out?’ he asked.
‘Are you a good speller?’ Felicia asked coolly.
‘Cheap,’ the stall-holder said anxiously as Felicia let the strand of pearls drop from her fingers.
‘Agreed,’ Joshua commented, shooting him a brief glance. To Felicia he said quietly, ‘I find you madly attractive, and I want to spend time with you. Now I’m wide open for the coup de grâce.’
‘Only t’ree hun‘red yuan!’ the stall-holder offered, adding with hardly a pause, ‘Two hun’red seven-five OK?
Felicia said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not interested.’
‘Two hun’red fifty!
‘Not interested?’ Joshua repeated softly. ‘You were tempted, though.’
‘Yes. I may change my mind later.’
‘I live in hope.’ There was laughter in his voice.
‘I was talking about the pearls.’
‘I wasn’t, and you know it.’
She looked up, ready to deliver a stinging retort, let him know once and for all that she wanted nothing from him but to be left alone. With any other man it would have been easy. She’d have been polite, firm, unequivocal, trying to leave his ego intact while giving him a clear message that his advances were unwelcome.
But then she met Joshua’s eyes and the words died on her tongue. He looked quite serious now, intense and determined, and she couldn’t look away from the glowing amber depths. Her own eyes dilated, she could feel it.
He halted, moving half in front of her, oblivious of the people walking around them. ‘What is it?’ he asked her. ‘You’re not married, are you? Is there a man back home? Or has someone hurt you, made you afraid to step into the dark again?’
‘None of the above.’ With an effort she pulled herself together, forced herself to detachment. Perhaps she ought to claim a lover, a commitment. But instinct told her it wouldn’t make any difference. ‘I’m deeply flattered, of course, but—’ She shrugged, not quite apologetically.
‘You admitted you were tempted.’
‘The pearls—’
‘The hell with the pearls! You were sparring with me, and enjoying it, Felicia. Just as you enjoyed that kiss the other night.’
‘You don’t suffer from false modesty, do you?’
‘You did reciprocate,’ he reminded her. ‘I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t fully expected you to.’
Unfair. And arrogant. He had no right to take her response for granted. But she could hardly deny that she had given it. ‘A reflex. I was taken by surprise.’
Someone bumped against her, and Joshua took her arm and steered her away from the centre of the path to the side overlooking the beach. ‘If you hadn’t liked it your reflex would have been to pull away and slap my face.’
‘Next time—’ She stopped as a wicked grin curved his mouth. Fighting a shocking urge to laugh with him, she said, ‘I thought you were telling me earlier that you’re not a masochist.’
‘Maybe I could learn. I’ve always enjoyed new experienoes. A touch of vinegar can be quite refreshing after a diet of honey and sugar.’
‘Suzette seems a nice girl.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Very.’
Genevieve had been nice—extraordinarily so. Had he found her cloying, become tired of her sweetness?
A shaft of pain and anger made her abruptly turn away, staring unseeingly at the tall buildings rising from the flat promontory at one end of the beach. ‘I thought you were together.’
‘No.’
‘Suzette would like you to be.’
‘Maybe. And maybe she deserves someone nicer than me,’ he said.
‘And I don’t?’ A dry note entered her voice.
‘Probably.’
She turned to regard him curiously. ‘So why should I be interested?’
‘I haven’t any idea, but I’m not imagining the signs.’
‘Signs?’ Her voice was frosty. He was so cocky, so convinced that she was attracted to him, when her feelings were much more complicated and much less complimentary than he had any idea of.
‘I swear,’ he said, ‘that you know when I come into a room—even when you’ve got your back to the door. Your chin goes up and you get a little flush on your cheeks, no matter how carefully you’re not looking at me. It has to mean something.’
It means I hate you. She wanted to shout it at him, right here in public, and walk away. Gripping the sun-heated railing, she looked away from him so that he wouldn’t see that her eyes were hot with rage. He remembered nothing of that long-ago summer. Nothing about her, anyway. He couldn’t, surely, have totally forgotten Genevieve?
‘You watch me all the time when you think I’m not looking,’ he said. ‘The same way I watch you.’ He paused. ‘If you say so I’ll walk away and not bother you again. But if you’re going to do that I wish you’d tell me what it is you’re afraid of.’
‘I’m not afraid!’ Her denial was instant and vehement.
‘Well... that’s a start.’
‘I’m not afraid,’ she reiterated, more to herself than to him.
She could tell him, get it all out in the open, watch his face when she revealed to him who she was. See him realise why she despised him.
Remember Genevieve? she’d say to him. Remember her little stepsister? The one who carried messages between you all summer? Remember me?
CHAPTER THREE
“THEN what is it?
He
