‘Nevertheless, I am prepared to do what I can to help you, providing you are equally prepared to do the same.’
Laura swallowed disbelievingly. ‘Are you threatening me?’
‘Threatening you? No. How could you think it?’ he responded, in that same half mocking tone. ‘I’m offering you a way out, an alternative your sister may find more appealing than a depressing plane ride back to London.’
Laura shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘You will.’ Jason shrugged. ‘Stay and have lunch with me, and I’ll explain.’
Laura moved her head from side to side, but it was a futile gesture. ‘I don’t see what you can say to appease Pamela’s state of mind,’ she insisted. ‘She feels desperate and afraid …’
‘Because she’s alone and pregnant, and she has no future means of support,’ said Jason levelly. ‘Wouldn’t you say that covered her immediate situation? That and her professed desire to see Kazantis again?’
‘Well, yes …’
‘Good.’ Jason’s arms fell to his sides and he gestured politely towards the cushioned seat behind her. ‘So. Sit down. I’ll go tell Alec we’ll eat in fifteen minutes. You do like lobster, don’t you?’ His dark brows arched, and a faintly humorous gleam entered his eyes. ‘Oh, yes, of course you do. How could I forget?’
As he pulled open the door behind him and went to inform the yacht’s captain of his intentions, Laura curled one leg beneath her and sank down unhappily on to the soft banquette. It seemed he had all the answers, she thought bitterly, her fingers tugging convulsively at the fringe of braided silk that edged the cushions. And if he wasn’t threatening her exactly, he was certainly using Pamela’s condition to get what he wanted.
But why her? she brooded helplessly. Why was he prepared to go to such lengths to get her back? Was it only because she had walked out on him? Was he really so vain, that he couldn’t bear the implications of her action? It was not an adjective she would have associated with him once, but how well had she really known him, after all? Once, she would have said she knew everything about him—his likes, his dislikes; his fairness, and his humour; the things that made him laugh, and the things that aroused his anger; his integrity in business, and his probity in justice. The men who worked for him and with him, respected him as well as liked him, and until experience had taught her differently, she had never had cause to doubt him.
Of course, she had been in love with him then, madly and irresistibly in love with a man she had never dreamed might be attracted to her. When she first went to work for him, as a temporary replacement for his own secretary, the other girls at the agency had teased her about his lean good looks, and the fact that he was one of the wealthiest men on the island. Naturally they, like her, had never imagined he would take any interest in a long-legged English girl, whose only claim to beauty was the silvery fair hair that fell almost to her waist. The rest of her features were totally ordinary, she knew: blue eyes, that watered when the sun was too strong, a straight nose that was not the least bit retroussé, and a wide mouth, whose lower lip was just the tiniest bit fuller. She discounted the length of her lashes, whose tips required mascara to be seen, and the slender curves of her figure. In her experience, men preferred smaller women, with fuller breasts, women who nestled into the curve of their arm instead of meeting them on eye-level terms.
Not that she had ever been able to say that of Jason. His height, and the lithe muscularity of his body, had always made her aware of her own femininity, and he had always maintained he preferred taller women. There had been plenty of them, goodness knows. Before she had figured in his scheme of things, he had had other mistresses, and there were several would-be supplicants all willing to inform Laura of how precarious her position was. Not to mention his ex-wife, Regina, and their daughter, Lucia …
She shook her head, banishing the unwilling memories of the emotions he had aroused. It was ridiculous, she told herself desperately. How could she even consider his demands? She couldn’t stay in Hawaii. She couldn’t abandon Pierce in the middle of the new book. Her life was in England now. Her job was in England. She had to make him understand she could not abdicate her responsibilities.
Three years ago, things had been different. Pamela had been training at a good teaching hospital in London, and sharing a flat with several other nurses. When Laura had been given the opportunity to spend six months in the Honolulu branch of the international secretarial agency in Bond Street, where she had worked at that time, it had seemed a marvellous break. It had been no wrench to give up her bedsitter, put the few belongings she was not taking with her into storage, and fly off to Hawaii. But not now. Now, she had her own flat, in Highgate. She had put down roots, and she was no longer the carefree twenty-two-year-old she had been when Jason first met her. Besides which, she didn’t want to lose her job with Pierce. She liked working for him. The job was interesting, and it had given her a chance to travel, as well as providing a very generous salary. She couldn’t give that up, not at the whim of a man who she despised. She should not have come here, she acknowledged belatedly. She should not have allowed Pamela’s desperate plight to drive her into a situation she obviously could not handle. But then, she realised bleakly, she had had no way of knowing how Jason would react to her plea for help. She had never suspected he might have plans of his own.
‘I’ve told Alec to have the awning erected.’ Jason’s lazy tones interrupted her reverie, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘I thought we might eat on deck,’ he continued. ‘It’s cool enough in the shade.’
Laura wanted to say she didn’t want to eat lunch with him, but she bit back the words. There was no point in antagonising him, she decided weakly, ignoring the fact that the longer she allowed this charade to continue, the harder it would be to convince him she could not be blackmailed.
‘All right,’ she said now, indifferently, sliding her curled leg off the cushions and giving a little shrug. ‘But I’m not very hungry.’
‘Nor am I. My appetites run in an entirely different direction,’ responded Jason unemotionally. ‘But unless I miss my guess, you’re not exactly in a mood to take advantage of them, are you?’
A wave of warm indignation swept over her skin at his careless words, and as if that was answer enough, Jason’s lips twisted. ‘I thought not,’ he essayed, turning back to the bar. ‘I suggest a cocktail instead. Something crisp, but not too sharp. I wouldn’t want to sour what promises to be an … interesting association.’
Laura looked up at him tensely, and then, giving into a wholly ungovernable sense of panic, she sprang to her feet. ‘I … I can’t go through with this!’ she exclaimed unsteadily. ‘I don’t care what you say, I won’t let you blackmail me! If you can’t help me find Mike Kazantis, I shall fly back to San Francisco tonight.’
Jason turned from pouring white rum into a metal mixer. ‘Strong words,’ he remarked, his expression wiped of all humour. ‘However, much as I hate to say this, you came to me, Laura. I didn’t invite you here. And as you have given me the means to keep you here, why should I let you go?’
Laura swallowed. ‘You can’t force me to stay.’
‘No. I can’t do that,’ he agreed, adding a measure of orange curacao to the flask. ‘Nor do I intend to do so. I shall just make it—difficult for you to go.’
Laura gazed at him disbelievingly. ‘How could you do that?’
Jason shrugged, his attention fixed on the remaining ingredients needed to complete the cocktail. ‘Sit down,’ he advised evenly. ‘Wait until you’ve heard what I have to say. And stop looking so anxious.’ His tawny eyes lifted to her troubled face. ‘The prospect of going to bed with me used not to frighten you that much!’
Laura gulped and turned away. ‘You’re … despicable!’
‘Why?’ He fastened the cap on the container and shook it energetically. ‘Isn’t it the truth? I seem to remember