Was it her imagination or did Remy consider his words before replying? ‘Oh—Pops is still around,’ he said vaguely, but it was obvious he didn’t want to speak about him. Why? she wondered. Because he wasn’t part of this package? Oh, God, she wasn’t strong enough to handle Ryan’s recriminations right now.
There was silence for a while, and Megan stared at the road passing under the car’s wheels without really seeing it at all. She was hot, and even in the air-conditioned comfort of the car she felt uncomfortable. And she was nervous. Why had she agreed to put herself through this? she wondered. She had the feeling she was going to regret it, after all.
The speeding tarmac made her feel dizzy, and she cast a surreptitious look at her companion as he concentrated on the road. His profile was strong, despite the softening effect of thick dark lashes, and the moist hair that curled a little at his nape.
He was attractive, she thought wryly, aware that it was a long time since she had been affected by any man. Not that she was attracted to him, she told herself, except in a purely objective way. He was her ‘nephew’, after all. All he did was make her feel old.
‘What’s wrong?’
He was perceptive, too, and Megan hoped all her thoughts were not as obvious to him. She was going to have to get used to being around him without showing her feelings.
‘Um—nothing,’ she said, forcing a lighter tone. ‘It’s just—strange, being here again. It’s quite a relief to see the island has hardly changed at all.’
Remy’s straight brows ascended. ‘Unlike me, you mean?’ he queried, and she nodded.
‘Well, of course.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ve all changed. I’ve only to look at you to see how much.’
‘Don’t patronise me, Megan—’
‘I wasn’t—’
‘It sounded like it to me.’ Remy’s tawny eyes had darkened now, and she experienced an involuntary shiver. ‘I guess it is hard for you to accept that we can meet on equal terms these days. You were always so conscious of your couple of years’ superiority when we were young.’
Megan gasped. ‘You make me sound like a prig.’
Remy’s lips twitched. ‘Do I?’
‘And it wasn’t—isn‘t—just couple of years’ seniority—’ she emphasised the word ‘—between us.’ She moistened her lips. ‘You were just five or six, the last time I saw you. I was nearly fifteen!’ She grimaced. ‘A teenager, no less.’
‘I was nearly nine,’ declared Remy doggedly. ‘I’m twenty-five, Megan, so don’t act like I’m just out of school.’
Megan swallowed. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you...’
‘You haven’t.’ Remy’s lips twisted. ‘But stop making such a big thing about your age.’ He slowed at the intersection before taking the turning towards El Serrat instead of the island’s capital. ‘Still—as you’re practically senile, haven’t you ever felt the urge to get married?’
Megan felt a nervous laugh bubble up into her throat, but at least it was better than sparring with him. ‘Not lately,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve been too busy. Being your own boss can be a pain as well as a pleasure.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
His response was too laconic, and she gave him a curious look. ‘You know?’
‘Sure.’ His thigh flexed as he changed gear. ‘I work for myself, too. I guess it’s not so high-powered, but it pays the rent.’
Megan looked at him. ‘I suppose you run the hotel now?’ ‘Hell, no.’ He shook his head. ‘I guess you could say I have more sense than to work for Mom. No,’ he said again, ‘I’m a lawyer. I’ve got a small practice in Port Serrat.’
‘A lawyer!’ Megan couldn’t help the incredulity in her tone.
‘Yeah, a lawyer,’ he repeated. ‘A grown-up one as well. I actually defend naughty people in court.’
Megan could feel the colour seeping into her throat. ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic.’
‘Then quit acting like my maiden aunt.’
‘Well—that’s what I am,’ said Megan, with a rueful smile. Then, ‘All right. I apologise. I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about—about all of you. So—how’s your mother? She does still work in the hotel?’
Remy expelled a resigned breath, as if her words had hardly pacified him at all. Then, ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘She practically runs the place these days.’
‘And she’s never married?’ asked Megan, hoping to keep their conversation on a less—personal level, but the look Remy levelled at her was hardly sympathetic.
‘To make me legitimate, you mean?’ he asked, and she wanted to kick herself. ‘No, I guess you could say Pops is the only father-figure I’ve ever known.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it,’ said Megan defensively. ‘Only she’s still a—a comparatively young woman. I thought she might have—fallen in love.’
‘Perhaps she loved my father,’ said Remy sardonically. ‘However unlikely that might seem. Besides—’ his lips adopted a cruel line ‘—I wouldn’t have thought love meant that much to you.’
Megan’s jaw sagged. ‘I beg your—’
‘Well, you did abandon the woman who loved you for a man without any perceptible emotions that I could see,’ he continued, with some heat. ‘Your mother loved you, Megan. Or have you conveniently forgotten that? How can you talk about love when you broke her heart?’
NOW why had he said that?
Remy’s hands clenched on the wheel, and he couldn’t bear to look her in the face. It wasn’t as if what had happened was anything to do with him, after all. He had no right to criticise her when she’d been too young to understand what was going on either.
She seemed to be speechless, and he was uneasily aware that the colour had now drained from her cheeks. For a moment there he’d forgotten how seriously ill she had been, and he felt as guilty as hell for upsetting her this way.
‘Look—I’m sorry,’ he began harshly, wishing they were still on the wide airport road where he might have been able to stop and apologise properly, instead of on the narrow road to El Serrat. He dared not stop here, not on one of these bends, where he’d be taking their lives into his hands. He’d done enough without risking an accident as well.
‘My—my father loved me,’ she said, almost as if she hadn’t heard him. ‘He loved me, and he’d done nothing wrong. How do you think he felt when he found out my mother had been cheating on him with your grandfather? My God! He’d made a friend of the man! How would you feel if it happened to you?’
Remy’s mouth compressed. ‘Like I said—’
‘You’re sorry?’ Megan appeared to be trembling now, and he hoped he hadn’t ruined everything by speaking his mind. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough. And if your mother feels the same way I suggest you turn around and take me back to the airport.’
‘She doesn’t.’ Remy swore. ‘Ah, hell, she’d be furious with me if she knew what I’d said. Okay, you have your memories of what happened, and I accept that. But I lived with your mother for almost six years. Believe