Lovers' Lies

A tight grin came and went on his mouth. ‘Is that meant to be an insult?’

‘I don’t go around insulting perfect strangers.’

His brows twitched. ‘Yow! A double whammy.’ He glanced round the table. ‘Look, it was an impulse, a nice way to end the evening, I thought. And...’

‘And?’ She looked up at him in challenge.

‘And... I wanted to know whether you’d reciprocate. It seemed to me I had reason to hope for it. If I offended you, I’m sorry.’

‘I’d forgotten all about it,’ she assured him with spurious earnestness. ‘It was totally unmemorable.’ And she turned away to speak to Maggie.

She could feel him seething beside her, even as his deep voice answered something that Suzette said. Well, OK, she thought defiantly. He’d asked for it, and he’d got it—in spades. That should ensure that he stayed away from her for the rest of the trip. Only she wished she didn’t feel so sick, as if she’d just done something peculiarly horrible.

Within days the tour group had developed a camaraderie that boded well for the rest of their time together. They’d visited temples and gardens, and most of them had ventured to the Chinese department stores and the street markets.

Joshua seemed popular, although when the group was taken to the Friendship Store where foreigners were encouraged to buy souvenirs, he had instead gone off somewhere on his own. Even Suzette didn’t know where.

They were flown to Xian to visit the famous terracotta army and other archaeological sites, and travelled by rail and road to Qingdao on the Yellow Sea, through vast areas of cultivations and scattered pink-walled villages. Water buffalo plodded patiently along dusty raised roads by narrow canals, and in some places it seemed that the countryside had been unchanged for centuries.

Qingdao dispelled that feeling. A sleepy fishing village until only a hundred years ago, it was now a sprawling, traffic-ridden, skyscraping metropolis that Jen called ‘... a small city... only seven million people.’

Coming from a country that boasted a population of three and a half million or so overall, Felicia was unable to suppress a choked little laugh. Turning away to try and hide it, she caught Joshua’s eyes, and an answering grin.

The first morning the group divided into those who wished to visit the Hi-Tech and Industrial Park and those who preferred a tour of specialty shops.

Relieved to find that Joshua had gone with the industrial tour, Felicia spent a relaxed morning with the bulk of the women browsing among a tempting array of embroidered silks, carved jade and cloisonné. It was difficult to limit her buying to a few irresistible pieces.

In the afternoon Maggie and several of the others declared they intended to spend the free time napping. Felicia welcomed the opportunity to take a walk on her own.

Strolling along the seaside promenade, where hundreds of Chinese holidaymakers and Japanese tourists enjoyed the broad beach a few feet below, she stopped to lean on the safety barrier, watching the swimmers and ball-players, and lifting a hand to her eyes to squint along the pier at the double-pagoda of the Rebounding Waves Pavilion.

Someone came to lean alongside her, and she felt the tightening of her skin that invariably told her when Joshua was near.

‘Isn’t this a bit silly?’ he said mildly.

‘What?’ She lowered her hand but didn’t take her eyes from the pavilion with the waves breaking gently around the rock on which it stood.

‘Not speaking,’ he said bluntly.

‘I am speaking to you.’

‘You avoid me at every opportunity.’

‘Actually there aren’t that many opportunities—’

The word fortunately hung in the air between them.

His hand on the rail beside her tightened. Then unexpectedly he laughed. Really laughed, with his head thrown back in genuine enjoyment. Watching him, she felt something clutch at her heart, and bit her lip, not wanting to recognise what had caused it.

The laughter was still in his eyes as he looked at her, shaking his head. ‘You never miss a chance, do you? Why do I keep asking for it?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ Felicia straightened away from the railing and turned to resume her stroll.

‘I don’t believe that.’ He was walking beside her. ‘You strike me as a fairly intelligent woman.’

“Thank you. What does that have to do with anything?

‘Do I seem to you like the sort of man who enjoys hitting his head against a brick wall for the fun of it?’

‘Since you ask...’ Felicia allowed her voice to trail off delicately as she stopped to look at a display of freshwater pearls. Joshua shifted to stand half facing her.

The stall-holder smiled eagerly at Felicia. ‘Hello, hello! Real pearl, very nice.’

‘Very nice,’ she assented, lifting a strand of the small, oddly shaped beads.

Joshua remained at her side. ‘You want me to spell it out?’ he asked.

‘Are you a good speller?’ Felicia asked coolly.

‘Cheap,’ the stall-holder said anxiously as Felicia let the strand of pearls drop from her fingers.

‘Agreed,’ Joshua commented, shooting him a brief glance. To Felicia he said quietly, ‘I find you madly attractive, and I want to spend time with you. Now I’m wide open for the coup de grâce.’

‘Only t’ree hun‘red yuan!’ the stall-holder offered, adding with hardly a pause, ‘Two hun’red seven-five OK?

Felicia said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m not interested.’

‘Two hun’red fifty!

the man offered as she began to move away. She smiled and shook her head.

‘Not interested?’ Joshua repeated softly. ‘You were tempted, though.’

‘Yes. I may change my mind later.’

‘I live in hope.’ There was laughter in his voice.

‘I was talking about the pearls.’

‘I wasn’t, and you know it.’

She looked up, ready to deliver a stinging retort, let him know once and for all that she wanted nothing from him but to be left alone. With any other man it would have been easy. She’d have been polite, firm, unequivocal, trying to leave his ego intact while giving him a clear message that his advances were unwelcome.

But then she met Joshua’s eyes and the words died on her tongue. He looked quite serious now, intense and determined, and she couldn’t look away from the glowing amber depths. Her own eyes dilated, she could feel it.

He halted, moving half in front of her, oblivious of the people walking around them. ‘What is it?’ he asked her. ‘You’re not married, are you? Is there a man back home? Or has someone hurt you, made you afraid to step into the dark again?’

‘None of the above.’ With an effort she pulled herself together, forced herself to detachment. Perhaps she ought to claim a lover, a commitment. But instinct told her it wouldn’t make any difference. ‘I’m deeply flattered, of course, but—’ She shrugged, not quite apologetically.