Alyse struggled to keep her face composed, her voice even, but his words hurt so much. Too much. ‘I’ve accepted it,’ she said carefully. ‘But it feels different now. We’re married, after all, and we’re going to spend more time together. Time alone. It would be nice if we could enjoy it, at least.’
That was so much less than she wanted, but at least it was a start—if Leo agreed.
He didn’t answer, just reached for the champagne and poured two flutes, the bubbles fizzing and bursting against the crystal sides. ‘I suppose that’s not an unreasonable request,’ he said eventually, and Alyse didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his grudging tone.
‘I’m glad you think so,’ she answered, and accepted a glass of champagne.
He eyed her evenly. ‘I suppose we should have discussed our expectations of what our married life would look like beforehand.’
‘Would it have made any difference?’
‘Not to me, perhaps.’ He raised his glass. ‘To what shall we toast?’
Alyse couldn’t think of a single thing. ‘To the future,’ she finally said, and heard the bleakness in her voice. ‘Whatever it may hold.’
Nodding in acceptance, Leo drank.
Leo watched Alyse slowly raise the flute of champagne to her lips. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and dark. She looked rather unbearably sad, he thought, and he had no idea why. What did she want from him? And why, after so long accepting the status quo, did she seem to want things to change?
Shifting in his seat, he turned towards the window. Outside the sky was an endless, brilliant blue. He thought of the week they were to spend on St Cristos, which was apparently the most elite honeymoon destination in the world—chosen, of course, to perpetuate the myth of their relationship. The relationship—a word he didn’t even like to use—that he didn’t want to change.
But it would have to change in some ways as they spent more time together, he acknowledged. Alyse had a point, even if he didn’t like it.
And she seemed to want such change. Want more. Leo felt everything in him recoil at the thought. He didn’t do relationships, or intimacy, or emotion, or any of it, yet it seemed Alyse expected a little of all of the above.
He could manage some conversation, he told himself. Some simple pursuits and pleasures...such as the consummation of their marriage. Perhaps he and his wife could find some sympathy with each other in bed. They certainly didn’t seem to have much out of it, although he was honest enough to admit he’d never really tried.
He didn’t want to get to know Alyse. He didn’t want their relationship to be anything than what it was: a carefully managed façade. He never had.
Yet now it seemed she wanted something else. Something more.
Well, she wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have anything more to give. Suppressing a sigh, he took another sip of champagne. Why did a thought that had once comforted and strengthened him now make him only feel restless and on edge?
* * *
By the time they arrived in St Cristos, Alyse was feeling strung out and exhausted. She hated the constant tension she felt in Leo’s presence; before today, they’d only seen each other for various occasions, usually formal, and always with other people around. They’d never had more than a few hours in each other’s company at a time, and never more than a few minutes alone.
She had hoped that when they were alone properly things would become more natural. They would chat, get to know one another, behave like normal, civil human beings. Except civility, in Leo’s world, was a cold-hearted, emotionless thing and Alyse didn’t think she could take much more of it.
After their brief exchange on the jet they’d barely spoken, and they’d ridden in silence from the island’s tiny airstrip to the exclusive resort. Alyse stared out of the window at the verdant hills on the horizon, the palm trees fringing the narrow track with their fronds drooping to the ground. In the distance the sea glittered under an afternoon sun; it was seven hours behind Maldinia here.
The resort came into view, a gracious grouping of thatched huts that looked both simple yet luxurious. The limo pulled to a stop and Alyse saw that all the staff was lined up outside the main hut, beaming and expectant.
She knew the resort was closed to all other guests this week in order to give her and Leo maximum privacy, yet right now she felt too tired to sparkle and charm the crowd. She wanted to curl up into herself and hide.
‘Here we go,’ Leo murmured, and with a rather grim smile he helped her out of the limo.
Alyse didn’t remember what she said to all the people assembled; she shook hands and murmured pleasantries and Leo put his arm around her, kissing her cheek to the sighs of several chambermaids. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, they were led to their guest quarters in a private cove.
Alyse stood in the middle of the hut on its raised wooden platform and stared at the few, expensive furnishings: a couple of teak bureaux, a rattan chair and a huge bed with soft linen sheets. Mosquito netting was draped over the entrance, tied back now, so she had an unrestricted view of the sea lapping only a few metres away.
There were no electrical outlets, she knew, no computers, televisions, telephones or mobile reception. Nothing to keep her and Leo from spending time with one another.
Except Leo himself.
‘I think I’ll take a look around,’ Leo said. ‘Why don’t you get settled?’
So much for spending time together. Alyse set about unpacking her cases, even though one of the resort staff had offered to do it for her. Right now she wanted to be alone.
Unpacking her few outfits for their week on the Caribbean island didn’t take long, however, and after she’d finished she prowled restlessly around the hut, wishing Leo would return, yet half glad he hadn’t. His obvious lack of interest in so much as conversing with her was hard to take.
Since Leo still wasn’t around she decided to go for a swim. With a twinge of self-consciousness, she changed into one of the bikinis that had been selected for her; she had not chosen or even seen any of the clothes in her cases, not even the shorts and tee-shirts.
The bikini was a little more revealing than she would have liked but, shrugging aside any self-consciousness—she was alone, after all—she headed for the sea.
The sand was silky under her bare feet, the water lapping her toes clear and warm. Standing there, gazing out at an endless horizon, Alyse felt just a little of the tension she’d been carrying lessen and her shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Maybe when Leo returned they’d have that private conversation he’d resisted on the plane. She’d talk to him properly, explain that she didn’t want to act like strangers any more. If they couldn’t act as a normal husband and wife, at least they could be friends. Surely that would be more bearable than this horribly stilted awkwardness and avoidance?
Taking a deep breath, she dove into the water, kicking her feet as she swam several metres underwater, enjoying the freedom and the silence of the world below the waves.
When she surfaced, slicking her hair back from her face, she felt a jolt deep inside—for Leo was standing in the shallows, dressed only in board shorts as he gazed out at her.
‘I wondered when you’d come back up for air,’ he said, his eyes narrowed against the sun’s glare. ‘I didn’t know you were such a good swimmer.’
She stood, for the water was still shallow there, and came up only to her waist. ‘There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.’
Even from this distance she saw the heat flare in his eyes as his gaze roved over her bikini-clad body, rivulets of water coursing down her skin. She felt her own body react—muscles tautening, awareness firing through her, hope flaring. ‘Yes,’ he said