‘By the same token,’ he broke in impatiently, ‘anyone could see there is unfinished business between us, Caiti, so—’
‘There needn’t be,’ she said intensely. ‘You could have instituted divorce proceedings through my solicitor, as I wrote and told you just after I left.’
‘Your solicitor,’ he repeated drily. ‘Did you honestly think I would be happy only to communicate with you through your solicitor?’
She swallowed. ‘Be that as it may, I don’t know what to think now.’ She put her hands delicately to her temples.
Rob Leicester watched her closely again. If the truth were known, her Gallic gestures, passed on by her French mother no doubt, had always fascinated him. She used her hands a lot. And he’d always been able to tell when she was disturbed, not only from her hands but also by the way a pulse disturbed the deliciously smooth skin at the base of her slender throat. It was beating rapidly now…
‘The sooner you break the news to Marion the better.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she objected. ‘She’ll probably be hurt that I didn’t write to her about it. It was something I just couldn’t put in a letter—she may even have decided to come haring home!’
‘But you intended to confide in her at this reunion, I imagine?’ He studied her critically. ‘Or have you decided simply to block it all out of your mind?’
‘Of course not!’
Their gazes clashed and his was sardonic as he murmured, ‘One could be forgiven for wondering about that.’
She swallowed. ‘I—’
‘Then the sooner also,’ he overrode her, ‘you acknowledge that things aren’t finished between us, Caiti Leicester,’ he said deliberately, ‘the better.’
‘Things?’ she echoed huskily.
He sat back, his hazel gaze terribly mocking. ‘Would you have got such a shock to see me again if I meant nothing to you now?’
She bit her lip. ‘How long are you in Cairns for?’
‘A few days, I’m here on business as well. I believe that in a couple of days’ time we’re having a get-together; the bridal couple, bridesmaids, best man, Derek’s mother, sister and her boyfriend.’
Caiti closed her eyes then her lashes flew up as he laughed softly.
‘If you could see your horrified expression,’ he said.
‘R-Rob,’ her voice shook, ‘would you have just sprung yourself on me at this get-together if we hadn’t bumped into each other today?’ she queried.
He considered. ‘If necessary, although I doubt you would have gone on in ignorance for that long. I’m actually taking things one day at a time. There was no way of knowing when the chief bridesmaid would discover who the best man was.’
‘That’s diabolical!’
His eyes narrowed and he watched her intently. ‘Is it, Caiti? Any more diabolical, would you say, than the way you left Camp Ondine two days after we got married?’
Her lips parted.
He stood up. ‘Think about it. In the meantime I’ll give you a lift to Marion’s.’
Caiti hesitated then stood up too. ‘Thank you.’
The drive from the airport to Marion’s house was mercifully short. All the same, it was ten tense minutes until he nosed the powerful Range Rover into her cousin’s driveway.
He’d said nothing on the way. She’d stared out of the window and observed that little had changed since she’d last been in Cairns. Still the same lush, tropical foliage and flowers, and still the same bird calls that were so evocative of the region.
Then he pulled up and turned to her. ‘You wouldn’t be so silly as to do another bunk, would you, Caiti?’
She took an angry breath as their gazes clashed. ‘There was no silliness involved the first time,’ she said tautly.
‘But you agree it was a bunk?’ he countered with lazy insolence.
‘I agree that I was misled,’ she said precisely, ‘and I found it impossible to carry on in the circumstances. However, no, I won’t be doing a bunk, Rob, until we’ve sorted things out because we obviously can’t go on like this.’ She opened her door and slipped out of the car. ‘Don’t worry, I can manage my bag.’
But he got out and retrieved it for her. ‘Until the party, then, but I’ll give you this should you need to get in touch in the meantime.’ He fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She didn’t even glance at it. ‘I won’t.’
‘You’re very proud, Caiti,’ he said softly. ‘Takes me right back to when we first met—remember?’ He waited for a moment as her eyes changed beneath a flood of memories, then he swung himself back into the vehicle, and drove off.
Caiti had just let herself into the house when Marion arrived home with a large dent in her car’s front fender.
The cousins fell into each other’s arms.
Marion Galloway was short and generously curved with curly brown hair and she had a warm, open nature. At twenty-five, she was two years older than Caiti and an audiologist by profession. Despite losing her parents as a teenager, she had her life well organised and her long relationship with Derek Handy had always run smoothly.
‘I’ve missed you so much!’ she said to Caiti as they hugged exuberantly.
‘Me too,’ Caiti responded. ‘How was it? Did you have a marvellous time? I want to hear all about it!’ she warned.
‘Let’s have a cup of tea. Phew!’ Marion wiped her brow. ‘What an afternoon!’
A few minutes later they were sitting over a cup of tea on the pleasant, creeper-shaded veranda, and Marion was reminiscing about her trip.
‘But it’s so wonderful to be home,’ she said at last. ‘It’s been six weeks but it’s still wonderful. I’m only sorry we couldn’t have got together earlier.’
‘Better this way,’ Caiti said. ‘I’ve got a whole month off.’
‘Tell me about it! Sounds great, working for the French Embassy in Canberra. Lucky you to have had a French mother.’ But Marion sobered rapidly. ‘Is there any hope of a reconciliation between your parents?’
Caiti and Marion’s father’s were brothers.
Caiti heaved a sigh. ‘No. I can’t quite believe it happened, you know. She’s got this new man in her life I don’t like at all. Dad is roaming around South America—he’s in Patagonia at the moment—and I’m sure he’s bereft. They were married for twenty-five years when they split up.’
Marion shook her head in dismay. They discussed Caiti’s job as an interpreter for a while, and the pleasures of living in the nation’s capital.
‘It’s a long way from Cairns,’ Marion said humorously, ‘but what made you give up teaching?’
Caiti hesitated because this was heading into difficult territory. How to tell Marion that in very short order her parents had split up while Marion was overseas, and teaching French to mostly bored high-school students had been no balm to her troubled, suddenly lonely soul?
How then to explain that she’d tossed in teaching and taken up tour-guiding, which had virtually led her into Rob Leicester’s arms?
‘Uh—got bored with it, I guess,’ she said ruefully.
‘To be honest,’ Marion said slowly, ‘I never thought you were cut out for teaching languages.