Then the receiver was lifted and a languid female voice said, ‘Do you know what time it is?’
Joanna swallowed convulsively, unable to think of anything to say. The woman’s voice was not familiar and it was easy for her to think the worst. That Matt had taken a mistress, as David had said.
She was tempted to end the call, but she forced herself to speak. Swallowing again, she said, ‘Is that you, Sophie? Is Matt there? I’d like to speak to him.’
The woman—girl, whoever she was—gave an impatient sigh. ‘I’m not Sophie,’ she said shortly. ‘And Matt’s not here. In any case, he wouldn’t appreciate you calling him at this hour of the morning. Whatever it is, call him on his mobile. We usually find that’s the safest thing to do.’
Joanna’s mouth was unpleasantly dry, but she had to go on. ‘I know the office number, but I don’t know his mobile,’ she admitted unwillingly.
The girl sighed again. ‘If you give me your name, I’ll tell him you called.’
‘No.’ All Joanna wanted to do now was end the call. ‘No, it’s not important. I—I’ll catch him later.’
‘Okay.’ The woman sounded as if she didn’t care one way or the other. Then, offhandedly, ‘I don’t know his mobile number either. But they might be willing to give it to you at the office.’
Joanna doubted it, but she said, ‘Thanks,’ and rang off. Annoyingly, she found she was shaking. She almost spilled the diet soda the girl brought for her, and, thrusting a five-pound note down on the table, she made her escape.
Outside, in the street, she couldn’t prevent the hot tears that filled her eyes at the knowledge that someone else was staying in Matt’s apartment. Someone who didn’t know his mobile number, which was odd.
Was she just some female escort he’d brought home with him? Surely he hadn’t had time to start a more permanent affair. But they were obviously sleeping together? Why else would a strange—sleepy—woman answer his phone at six o’clock in the morning?
She considered ringing again in the evening. But the thought of giving him her news, maybe in the presence of a new girlfriend, filled her with distaste. Remembering the angry way he’d left her apartment weeks ago, and now this morning’s phone call, she was no longer sure what his reaction would be.
She sighed. Well, for the present, she would keep the baby’s existence to herself. She would tell Matt, she assured herself. When she was ready. But he couldn’t blame her for being secretive if he was keeping secrets of his own.
MATT NOVAK SWUNG the tiller of his sleek racing dinghy towards the shore, and, ducking to avoid the boom, he guided the craft smoothly into the landing at Long Point.
It was still comparatively early in the morning. These days he found it difficult to sleep beyond six a.m., and in consequence he’d started taking the dinghy out before many of his fellow yachtsmen were on the water. Which suited him just fine.
While he was gradually adapting to the island lifestyle, he had no desire to get to know other ex-pats like himself. He had come to the Bahamas to escape the corporate world. Not to make friends with the kind of people he’d left behind.
‘You okay, Mr Matt?’
Henry Powell was waiting for him on the jetty and caught the rope that Matt threw to him, expertly fastening the craft to an iron mooring ring.
‘I’m good,’ Matt responded, checking that the sail was secure before vaulting onto the landing. He raked back his unruly hair with a careless hand. ‘Beautiful morning, Henry.’
‘All mornings on Cable Cay are beautiful mornings,’ declared Henry proudly.
He was an older man, of medium height and thick-set, his dark face leathery, lined from the sun. He and Matt had known one another since Matt was a boy, when his father had first brought him here on holiday all those years ago.
Oliver Novak had bought the villa at Long Point, but in recent years, he’d taken to renting it out during the winter months, with Henry acting as his steward. But Henry had been delighted when Matt had decided to buy the place from his father and occupy it on a more permanent basis.
Matt occasionally spent a week in New York, acting as his father’s deputy, but since Sophie was making such a success of her tenure as CEO of NovCo, it was no longer such a necessary chore.
Henry paused now, and then added significantly, ‘You ready to go up to the villa now, Mr Matt? ’Cos I have to tell you, you got a visitor.’
Matt stifled a curse and gave the older man a grim look. ‘A visitor?’ He could only think of his mother and he definitely did not want to see her.
‘Yes, sir, Mr Matt.’ Henry evidently sensed it was not news his employer wanted to hear. ‘It’s Ms Sophie. She spent last night in Nassau and flew out here this morning.’
‘Sophie?’ Matt was both shocked and alarmed. He could think of no reason why Sophie might come all this way to see him unless something bad had happened to their father. Or to the company. ‘Did she say why she was here?’ he queried, and Henry shook his head. ‘Does she look worried? Upset? What?’
Henry was thoughtful for a moment. ‘She looks pretty much the way she always looks,’ he decided cheerfully. ‘I left her drinking coffee with Teresa.’
Matt checked the pockets of his shorts for his phone and briefly scanned the screen. No texts were screaming at him; no email messages begging to be read. So why the hell hadn’t Sophie warned him she was coming? Unless she’d already guessed she wouldn’t be welcome.
The landing where Matt was standing was just a few yards from the villa. Away to his left, one of the island’s beautiful white sand beaches stretched away to a rocky promontory. To his right, the beach gave way to a thicket of mangroves clustered at the water’s edge, which gave Long Point its complete privacy.
A little way beyond the mangroves was the small anchorage of Cable Bay, a favourite spot with the sailing fraternity. And not far from that was the small township of Cable Cay itself, and the tiny airport of Cable West.
Matt started towards the villa. He was surrounded by blossoming poinsettia, flowering hibiscus, and other colourful shrubs; vivid splashes of colour amid the palms that shielded the property from public view. That was one of the reasons why Oliver Novak had originally bought the villa. It was an oasis of privacy on what was a small, but fairly popular, island.
As Matt stalked up the crushed shell path to the villa, he endeavoured to find some comfort in the fact that had it been a matter of life and death, his mother would surely have let him know.
He found Sophie relaxing on the veranda that encircled the villa. A jug of coffee and two mugs were on the table in front of her, although Teresa had obviously returned to her duties.
Sophie had evidently packed for the weather in the islands. Her dark hair was casually caught up in a ponytail, and beige shorts and a floral halter top were definitely not the usual wear for January in New York.
‘Hey,’ she said, when she saw him, getting up as he climbed the steps to the veranda and bestowing a sisterly kiss on his stubbled cheek. ‘Oh, you need a shave!’
Matt shrugged. ‘I’m not going anywhere, am I?’ He paused. ‘How are things in New York?’
‘Things are going great. As you know, if you remember how it was on your last visit.’ Sophie sank back into her seat. ‘We got the contract for the new exploration in the Arctic. And Andy Reichert thinks we might exceed all expectations this year.’
Matt pulled a wry face. ‘Good for Andy.’
‘You’re