went on, ‘However, this is my real life’s work—Fala’isi and its people. My father isn’t ready to give up his position as head of the family corporation, and I’m not eager to take it on yet, but that’s what I’ll end up doing.’
Rather daringly she asked, ‘Do you want to do that?’
‘Wanting doesn’t come into it.’ Keeping his gaze fixed on the panorama in front of them, he explained in a level, judicious voice, ‘I could probably flag it away if my father wasn’t also paramount chief. That’s a hereditary position—not in that the oldest son or daughter inherits, but the chieftainship is the prerogative of one family. In Fala’isi that’s my family. We’re the last link with the ancient chiefs of the island, and although our position is more ceremonial than anything else, it’s still important. If either of my sisters were interested I might be able to evade the responsibility, but they’re not.’
‘I’m surprised women would be considered for the position,’ Fleur said without thinking.
‘Why? Women held—still hold—very high prestige in Polynesian societies. In New Zealand the late Maori Queen was chosen for the position by her people.’
Feeling foolish, she responded, ‘I know, and you’re right of course. It’s just that we—well, I suppose I thought society here would be more rigid than at home.’
‘We’ve always been fairly cosmopolitan,’ he said, then changed the subject by pointing out his house, sprawling in its several acres of gardens on a low hill above the lagoon. He added casually, ‘Fala’isi is the link between the great prehistoric sailing routes from east to west and north to south. For centuries my ancestors traded and fought and explored along those routes. We islanders pride ourselves on being open to new ideas.’
Although his voice was perfectly level, for some reason the words sounded like a veiled warning. Fleur looked up sharply, met eyes as translucent as polar seas, and felt that odd clutch of response in her stomach, so close to fear it could have been mistaken for it if it hadn’t been accompanied by an erotic charge of physical awareness.
All her senses sharpened by Luke’s presence, her skin tightening under the impact of his scrutiny, she felt the breath of the breeze as acutely as though she’d been standing in a gale.
‘We’d better be getting back,’ he said curtly, as though he regretted letting her see even that small bit of his inner thoughts.
Nodding, Fleur turned her mount and pretended to admire the scenery as they rode down towards the house. So this, she thought dazedly, was what sexual attraction was all about. She didn’t even know him, yet she’d trusted him when he’d suggested this charade. Had that been because she felt sorry for the girl Luke didn’t want, or was it because she was clutching at any straw to stay here in paradise with a man she wanted?
That thought made her feel sick. Was she being a total idiot? Through her lashes she saw him ahead, riding his big gelding with the ease and grace of a man who had spent a lot of time on horseback.
Did he make love with the same cool mastery? Colour burned through her skin, and she had to force herself to concentrate. She was utterly sure her mother hadn’t had this dangerous attraction in mind when she’d organised a holiday on Fala’isi for her daughter.
He halted his horse and waited for her to catch up. ‘We can ride back along the beach if you like,’ he said, then frowned. ‘Although you look as though you’ve caught a bit of sun. Do you want some sunscreen?’
‘No, thanks, I’m slathered in the stuff, and I’d love to ride along the beach.’
‘No mad galloping,’ he said with a hint of irony.
‘I’ve never been into mad,’ she told him with perfect truth. ‘I was always the one who waited to make sure it was safe before I did anything.’
Even as she said the words she knew their truth—and realised how far she’d strayed from that sensible, if too cautious, attitude.
Luke reached into his shirt pocket and tossed her a tube. ‘Sunscreen first.’
Resigned, because he clearly wasn’t planning to go anywhere until she’d put more on, she caught it neatly and unscrewed the top. It was warm, mostly from the sun, she told herself sturdily as she smoothed it into her skin. Certainly not from his body…
The thought sent another erotic little shiver through her. Keeping her eyes studiously on the tube, she recapped it and held it out to him. His fingers closed around hers; her mount moved at an involuntary signal from its rider.
‘Steady,’ she crooned to her horse, and the mare settled.
Luke didn’t release her. ‘Listen,’ he said beneath his breath.
Like a carillon of exquisite purity, a bird sang from somewhere close by.
Enchanted, she listened until the song wound down in a cascade of notes, keeping her eyes on the sight of her hand enclosed in Luke’s big, lean tanned one. Time stood still; her breath locked in her throat. She thought dazedly that the sun stopped and no sound of the waves on the reef came to her ears. Even the wild thunder of her heart eased in the haunting, melancholy sweetness of the song. Luke’s touch seared through her like the sweetest of daggers, setting off fires in a million unsuspected pleasure points.
Then the notes died away, and she dragged in a breath and pulled, and immediately he let her go.
‘That was—superb,’ she half said, half whispered. ‘It sounded a bit like a kokako—or a tui when it stops mimicking.’
Luke set his horse in motion. ‘A tikau, native to the island, although I believe it’s a distant relative of the kokako. It’s a bird of the high mountains and the forest—it rarely comes this close to the sea.’ He nodded at a gully to one side. ‘It must have lost its way and found some shelter there. I’ll have traps set tonight.’
She gazed at him in horror. ‘Why?’ she demanded.
He gave her a narrow, somewhat cynical smile. ‘Because there are predators here—rats, dogs. The bird needs to be taken back to the mountains. It will die here.’
‘Oh, I see.’
He indicated a track leading downwards. ‘The sea is that way,’ he said.
Fleur followed, conscious that something had changed. Gone was the camaraderie of a few minutes ago, replaced by a barrier that hurt her in some obscure way.
The ride along the beach should have been wonderful but although they didn’t gallop they cantered, and she suspected that was so he didn’t have to talk to her.
Back at the house he said courteously, ‘I suggest you have a rest after lunch. Our guests will start arriving at seven.’
‘I’ll be ready,’ she said brightly.
The hairdresser arrived with an assistant. ‘Our cosmetics specialist,’ she said, and made horrified clucking noises as she examined Fleur’s chopped tresses. ‘My friend suggested you might like to see a sample of our range.’
‘I can’t afford any cosmetics,’ Fleur said firmly.
The two women looked a little startled, but
