Pearls of the Past Read online

  Even Rusie was leaning forward, listening. “I didn’t know about Uncle Andrew being sent away. He was so young.”

  “My father told me that little piece of news not long ago. Not Da. Perhaps that triggered this idea of mine to come here and make the album for Da. But then, maybe I personally wanted to know more about my father’s childhood? Needed to see for myself.” As her thoughts flew she was asking herself another question, “Is this why this particular island holds...” Again she apologized, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Britt was quick to cover her hand with his, squeezing it gently. It was a wonderful, comforting feeling, warming her all over.

  “I’m interested, we all are. So your father was born here?” When Corrie nodded, Britt slid his hand from hers and sat back in his chair to state, “He probably knew my father. Perhaps they could have been small boys together. And our grandfathers, they most certainly must have known each other, considering the smallness of the island. Even with the population being at its peak during that time, due to the boom in pearling and the mother of pearl industry, I’m sure they would have. What do you think, Vic?”

  “It does seem possible.”

  Britt leaned forward to again take Corrie’s hand in both of his, its smallness enfolded tenderly. Corrie was aware of Victor’s smile growing wider by the minute, and Matthew’s eyebrows rising higher and higher.

  “And this is what I denied you? The verification of what little you have told me here and on the launch. Corrie Nelson, you have every right to hate my guts!”

  Corrie thought Victor was going to choke by the noise that erupted from him. He made a desperate grab at the water glass.

  “Well, I have called you an assortment of names...”

  “Odious creature, obnoxious beast.”

  Again there was a strangled sound from Vic.

  She smiled softly. “All those, but I don’t think I actually said I hated your...” Her words faded. All she could see, and was aware of, was beautiful sea-green eyes holding hers in such a way she was sure everything was held in time, suspended for long, heart-stopping minutes.

  The silence encompassing them was of such intensity and length it gradually made them both aware they were the center of attention. Together they slowly turned their heads to find the other occupants of the table watching them.

  Victor was grinning from ear to ear, Matthew’s eyebrows were definitely residing in his hairline by this time, and Rusie had her mouth open. Their reactions had Corrie snatching her hand free, her face aflame, more than conscious of the amazing awareness that had been growing between her and Britt to the exclusion of everything else.

  Not Britt. Taking the situation in hand, he simply asked, “Does someone apologizing for their boorish behavior warrant the amount of disbelief I see on your faces? Surely you have heard this happen before? Me apologizing?” He looked at Wing Lee as he approached the table. “Ask Wing Lee. I often apologize, don’t I?”

  “If it suits you.” The words were spoken in clear, enunciated English.

  This enlightening rejoinder was followed by a few words in Chinese from Britt. “Wing will serve our coffee and tea in the living room.” He placed his napkin on the table in preparation of rising, only to be halted by Victor’s next words.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll pass on the coffee. I have some paperwork to finalize. I’ll be going to Darwin tomorrow.”

  “I thought Britt was going?” Matt queried.

  Corrie thought the same. She was sure Victor had told her just that.

  “A slight change of plans,” Victor stated, his black, intent gaze leveled on Britt. “There is some personal business that has to be attended to. It will probably take a couple of days.”

  “By the end of the week, do you think?” Britt asked slowly.

  “It will have to be. Don’t you agree?”

  “At least some understanding should be hoped for in that time.”

  Corrie likened the conversation between the two friends to a game of tennis. All eyes on one, then the other, back and forth, and little of it made sense. Matthew apparently thought so too. “Just what are you two talking about?”

  “Britt understands,” was Victor’s only comment, his gaze never wavering.

  Matthew shook his head. “Weird. Rusie and I will ask to be excused too. We’re meeting some friends at the hotel. They want to meet the future Mrs. Tamai.” He took Russella’s hand and they stood and left the dining room,

  Her cousin’s face had been glowing, and that made Corrie happy. Although there hadn’t been time for them to discuss the earlier phone call, it was obvious her aunt and uncle had been won over.

  “Well, Corrie, that leaves just you and me for coffee.”

  “I’ll tell Wing Lee,” was Victor’s instant reply as he stood and also left the room.

  Somehow, he seemed a little too eager for Corrie’s liking. She tried to dispel the thought as nonsense. Or was it nonsense? Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to leave her and Britt alone.

  Britt’s hand touched hers, “If you’re ready, we’ll go upstairs.”

  Climbing the stairs, on their way to the living room for coffee, her steps slowed, and turning, she looked down at Britt to say, “I thought you were the one going to Darwin tomorrow.”

  “So did I. Apparently Vic has other ideas.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “You don’t. But don’t worry about it, unless you’re concerned about the fate of my business. I can assure you Victor is a very astute and competent accountant. He’s not likely to make any wrong decisions that will send me bankrupt. So may I suggest I answer any further questions in the living room, or we’ll give Wing Lee more reason to complain. This time, for cluttering up the stairs. After you.”

  Of course Wing Lee managed to show his discontent with his usual mutterings as he placed the coffee on the low cane table. Corrie recalled Matt’s words at dinner. When the houseman disappeared through the door, she could contain herself no longer.

  “May I ask questions now, if you don’t mind, that is?”

  “By the look of that frown, you have quite a few. Be my guest.”

  “It’s our being your guests that seems to have upset Wing Lee. Or am I imagining it? Also, there was Matt’s remark, which you parried very succinctly by saying it wasn’t the time or the place. Could you possibly make this the time and the place?”

  “Will you promise not to find more disparaging words to label me with?”

  Corrie found herself smiling. “Now you really have caught my imagination. Is it that bad?”

  “Judge for yourself. Seven years ago when we built this bigger office and residence, we were four bachelors and more than happy to remain so. We had the best of both worlds. Our own private sanctuary with the means and time to indulge ourselves other than on our island when the notion took.”

  Britt hesitated.

  Corrie smiled widely, knowing he was waiting for her to offer some remark, which she had no intention of doing. The slight frown of indecision he wore was her reward.

  “Right. Well, our policy—which was arrived at democratically—was no females were to be admitted upstairs. And we brought Matt up to believe in the same standards. Although, I will admit that women have enhanced our formal dining room below many times. The policy hasn’t been all that hard to keep since some years back Vic and I had already agreed in no involvement with the females on the island.”

  This statement made Corrie wonder even more about Matthew’s parentage.

  Suddenly Britt was on his feet. Walking to the door of the balcony, he turned to look at her. “We were all happy with it, and it worked until...”

  His fascinating eyes darkened and his voice lowered with husky sensuousness, making Corrie’s fingers clench into the jade material on the cane lounge where she sat, trying to still the increased pounding of her heart.

  “Until a certain beautiful young woman stepped out of a car, and this house hasn’t been the same since.�
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  Corrie hoped she was going to say the right thing. “I think it happened before that. It was when Russella stepped onto your ferry at Ochre Point that she and Matt became aware of each other,” she offered softly.

  “Did I mention Russella?” His voice became even lower, curling across the space separating them, “I didn’t think I had.”

  Apprehension—or was it excitement?—rushed through Corrie. If it wasn’t Rusie, then he really was alluding to her, and she wasn’t equipped to handle this right now.

  Just when she was seeing him in a different light, letting herself get use to the idea he did something amazing to her equilibrium she hadn’t encountered before, and quite frankly, could never imagine she ever would again, now he was saying... Oh, heavens! Exactly what was he saying?

  She was on her feet. She panicked, but she couldn’t help it. A second set of sliding doors leading to the balcony was close at hand, and she reached for them. Thank goodness they weren’t locked. Facing a wall of immovable glass would have been the last straw with embarrassment nagging at the edge of her panic.

  She stepped through to walk stiltedly to the opposite end of the balcony from where she had viewed the breathtaking sunset. Bright lights lit the complex of wharves and jetties, clearly showing people fishing, some walking, others gathered in groups, talking and laughing. Somewhere close by the white ginger blossom filled the air with its wild, heady perfume of sweet intoxication. Her back grew warm and her breath caught with anticipation. She knew he was standing directly behind her.

  “Corrie?” His breath brushed her temple as he spoke.

  “This morning when I was walking home from shopping I came along the road near the wharves...” She knew she was rambling.

  “Corrie?” A warm, hard hand slid over her wrist and gathered her hand in his. “You know I wasn’t speaking of Russella. That I was speaking of you, don’t you?” The pressure of his hand made her obey his wish of having her turn to face him. When she did, he added, “You don’t have to shake like a leaf. I won’t hurt you.”

  “Won’t you?” came the soft, pathetic query.

  “Never.”

  The husky intimacy of his voice told of raw feelings she knew she had no way of dealing with, making her blurt out, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what made me make that stupid remark. It’s just so many things have happened in such a short time. I’m...” She hated the quaver in her voice.

  “Things I’ve been responsible for.” He lifted her hand and tenderly brushed his mouth across her knuckles then immediately let it fall, leaving her knees wobbling and her heart beating frantically.

  He stepped to the white timber rail and tightened his hands around it, straightening his strong arms, his shoulders tense and wide.

  “I’m the one who is sorry for my uncouth, blundering behavior of the past, but it’s as I said—this house has never been the same. And if it makes you comfortable believing Russella is the one responsible, then you go on being comfortable. There is something to be said for not rocking the boat. Isn’t there, Corrie?” His voice had acquired a touch of accusation with the last question. “Now, would you like more coffee? The other will be cold,” he said. He turned to face her, the subdued lighting from inside making his Nordic goldenness more devastating than she would have liked.

  Gaining her equilibrium, she said, “No, thank you.” His tone of voice had made her words clipped, and indignation rose inside her. “Was there a hint of an insinuation that I prefer my life to always be comfortable? That I’m not prepare to meet a challenge, not brave enough to take a dare?”

  “Are you, Corrie? Are you prepared to broaden your horizons?”

  “I came here, to Endeavour! That should prove I...” Her indignation disappeared as he came to stand tall before her. She took a defensive step back toward the open door of the lounge behind her.

  His hand captured hers. Entwining her fingers with his, he drew her slowly but determinedly to him. His other arm encircled her waist, easing her now trembling body to touch then nestle against him as he lifted her captured hand to place it against the throbbing pulse in his strong neck. It was a memorable moment full of poignant tenderness Corrie knew she would cherish forever.

  “Now, what were we saying...” His mouth lowered to brush teasingly across her lips. “...on the subject of...” Again, his lips dragged over hers. “...taking a dare.”

  Corrie was no longer able to fight the need to have his mouth on hers, and her lips parted, clinging to his persuasive warmth. He gathered her more closely to his hard-muscled, potent length for untold moments. His caress was non-invasive yet sensuous and erotic at the same time, sipping at her top lip with tantalizing persuasion, then her bottom lip. Corrie, dizzy from wanting to experience a deepening of his claim on her lips, stretched onto her tiptoes. His head lifted, leaving her stranded with the feeling of disappointment rushing through her of wanting more, much more.

  Immediately, he distanced himself from her, making her hand leave the warm flesh of his neck, the fingers of her other hand untangling from the bunched, white material of his shirt as her heels dropped to the tiles. Dismissed! It was so obvious. It certainly made her grateful she hadn’t moaned the incoherent plea of asking him to continue kissing her.

  He rested his hips against the railing and crossed his arms.

  “You see!” she said with half-hearted bravado, trying hard to make what had been a devastating discovery for her into something she was comfortable with. She wanted to raise her fingers to her lips, to find the impression he had left on them, to find his moistness, but she mustn’t.

  Britt turned his head to the lighted wharves. “Don’t tempt me with that saucy reply. For if I don’t keep my arms folded, I can promise you, you will have a lot more than you bargained for.”

  Corrie knew he meant every word, making her wonder if she would reject his threat, considering...

  He faced her. “Now, you were telling me about walking home this morning.”

  She turned from his intimidating gaze. It was sensible to agree with his reasoning to move on. She would accept, and be grateful for, the reprieve. Taking a deep breath, she forced her chaotic thoughts to return to the topic she’d been babbling about earlier.

  “A boat. There was a boat. A ketch I think.” She took another much needed, steadying breath and faced him again. “It looked rather...oh, neglected is probably how some would describe it. But I thought... No, I knew that if she was any different she would lose her air of romantic mystery, and... You’re looking at me as though...” Her words trailed off. She didn’t quite know how to read his intent gaze.

  He was probably thinking her a silly, romantic fool, and all over a rusty boat. She still couldn’t contain, or explain, the surging wave of emotion she’d felt upon seeing it. Her eyes had glistened earlier today, and was now about to do the exact same thing. Corrie lowered her eyes, to let her sweep of long, brown lashes exclude him.

  “Would you like to go for a walk? The wind has dropped off. It could be a pleasant break. One we both would appreciate.”

  Corrie slowly lifted her eyes. He knew she was uncomfortable and he was being considerate in his suggestion. “Should I change my shoes?”

  A soft smile stretched Britt’s mouth as his gaze drifted down the length of her body, all the way to her black, high-heeled sandals. “No. I’ll hold your hand.” His hand found hers, and as he laced his fingers with hers, he added, “Just in case you stumble.”

  “I think I may already have.” Her answer amazed her; after being extricated from one tenuous situation here she was encouraging another.

  “Corrie.” The husky pleading of his voice ravaging her heightened emotions only confirmed she’d been correct.

  With a strength of will which astounded her, she said, “Only slightly, you understand.”

  His lips gently imprinted their warmth on the sensitive inside of her wrist before he lifted it to tuck it in the opening of his shirt, placing it against the warm flesh over
his heart. It thudded against her hand. An electrifying shudder rippled her entire length, and she knew he had to feel her reaction to this intimacy.

  He smiled and took her hand from his warmth to entwine her fingers more firmly. “I understand, perfectly.”

  With the way her legs were trembling Corrie wasn’t sure if she was capable of taking a single step, let alone walking some distance. She turned in the direction of the beach leading to the Wongai tree, but Britt’s hand restrained her.

  “This way.” He gently tugged her hand and nodded in the direction of the wharves. “I want to see this rust bucket you have fallen in love with.”

  She was relieved to have their conversation take on a lighter note. “It’s not a rust bucket. It’s a beautiful boat,” she replied, her voice shakier than she would like.

  “I can hear the love in your voice. As one beauty defends the other beauty,” he said, his voice low. “Did you know the boat’s name is Lady Beautiful?”

  His intimate words left her capable of only a whispered reply, “No.”

  “I can tell you a love story about her that will satisfy the most passionate of romantics. Interested?”

  “Yes. How could I not be?” she replied, trying to have her voice hold a smidgen of strength as she needed to step closer to his side, allowing them to continue hand in hand down the sloping driveway toward the well-lit waterfront.