The Englishman's Bride

But really it was not something she found easy to laugh about. In the privacy of the scented night she could almost—almost—imagine it.

If she half closed her eyes she could pretend that there was a man walking beside her. She knew he was tall but his features were shadowy. She knew his voice, though. It was a deep voice that seemed to reach through to the core of her.

Her lips parted. She knew that voice all right. It was so calm, so controlled. And beneath the control? Kit’s breath came faster.

He had been so cool with his talk of wildlife. So removed from the allure of the night when his busy companions had called him back into the bright hotel rooms. But the mouth on hers had been fiery hot. And he had not found it easy to let her go.

What am I thinking? Have I cast him in the role of my lover, then? Kit stopped dead, shaken. Even though it was only in her imagination, she did not like it. She knew just how dangerous imaginings like that could be. She fought for common sense.

‘If you have exciting dreams tonight, you have no one but yourself to blame,’ Kit told herself with irony. ‘You’ve got to get a hold on that imagination. You can’t go to pieces because you’re in a tropical paradise.’

Paradise was just about it. The night was full of noises. Birds squawked. She wondered if they were the iridescent blue ones she had seen earlier. What had the tall stranger said they were called? Fairy bluebirds?

‘Never mind paradise. This is turning into Fantasy Island,’ Kit told herself crisply. ‘Get a grip, for heaven’s sake.’

But it was not easy when insects chirruped a lullaby. Leaves rustled. But Kit had told Lisa the truth: she was not afraid of the sound of nature or of her own company. It was people—their demands and then their careless, unthinking cruelty—that frightened her.

And yet she had kissed that man as if she was not frightened at all.

‘I must have been out of my mind,’ Kit muttered.

Her body gave a little remembering shiver of delight that told her she still was.

Jet lag or not, it was a long time before she got to sleep.

The banquet was interminable. Philip was sitting next to the development minister. The minister had been at university in Michigan and was full of cheerful stories.

Philip tried to concentrate. He really did. But his mind kept slipping sideways to the girl. Her husky voice. Her seal-smooth body. Her sheer joy in the water.

Her mouth under his.

He shifted in his seat and found the minister was laughing expectantly. He clearly wanted Philip to agree with something he had just said. Long experience had taught Philip how dangerous even a noncommittal nod could be. He really had to get a handle on this evening.

He said with his usual gentleness, ‘I’m sorry, Minister. I missed that.’

The minister sobered. There was something oddly intimidating about that quiet courtesy.

He forgot the joke he had been telling. He said sharply, ‘You do realise this is all useless? Without Rafek, no agreement will be worth the paper it’s written on.’

To the minister’s fury, Philip nodded as if he had just made a brave stab at a crossword clue.

‘Good point.’

‘Well, what are you going to do about it?’ said the minister belligerently.

Philip gave him one of his diplomatically inscrutable smiles.

The minister gave up.

But it made Philip concentrate for the rest of the evening. It was only after the toasts had been made, the compliments exchanged and the honoured delegates packed off to bed after a ceremonious goodnight that he had time to think about the girl again.

He and his team were sitting among the ruins of the banquet while hotel waiters began the process of clearing up. Philip leaned back in his chair and flexed his shoulders. The contracted muscles at the back of his neck flexed gratefully.

‘Do we know who else is staying here?’ he asked his personal assistant idly.

The PA knew how lucky he was to work for the youngest, most successful negotiator the UN had had in a long time. A PA’s profile depended on that of his boss and Fernando was ambitious. So he did not complain that it was an unfair question. Though it was.

Instead he opened his briefcase and fished among its bulging papers.

‘I gave you the list Security provided when we arrived, Philip. Do you want me to update it? Basically it’s the Aid Agencies group and the conservationists, as far as I know. Journalists, of course. But not many of them are here for the duration. They’ll fly back in for the final Press conference, of course.’

Philip nodded.

‘So who would a tall blonde be, Fernando? Red Cross? Endangered-species lobby? Girl swims like a fish. Except, now I think of it, she didn’t know about micro-crustacea.’ He was talking to himself. ‘So she won’t be a conservationist.’

Fernando and Philip’s locally appointed bodyguard exchanged glances. Fernando stopped riffling through his papers.

The bodyguard repeated the only word that made sense. ‘Girl?’

‘Oh, I just bumped into her,’ said Philip, at his vaguest.

Neither was deceived, though their reactions were different. Fernando looked worried. And as for the bodyguard—

‘You want a woman?’ he said practically.

Fernando winced.

For a moment there was a glacial silence.

‘I can arrange,’ the bodyguard offered, cheerfully impervious.

Fernando held his breath.

Damn, thought Philip. How could he have forgotten? Chief negotiators were not supposed to have feelings. Appetites, yes. No matter how sordid, the system could cope with the animal urges of its delegates if it had to. Just not feelings.

He should never have mentioned the girl. He must certainly not do it again. Meanwhile he had to turn down the unwanted offer politely. The bodyguard was seconded from the local military. He could not offend him. The peace process needed all the local friends it could get in this cauldron of plots and bad faith.

‘I think not,’ he said at last, with icy sweetness.

Fernando let out a long, relieved breath. Philip could be crushing when he wanted. The bodyguard had not deserved a Hardesty tongue-lashing.

‘Cool,’ he murmured in Philip’s ear.

Philip acknowledged the compliment with the slightest lift of an eyebrow.

‘Well, we have work to do. I’ll just take a walk along the shore before I get back to it.’ He stood up.

The bodyguard stood up too.