Pearls of the Past Read online

  Within minutes of lowering herself to a small patch of sand thrown up by the restless tides, her blue striped top began sticking uncomfortably, and her slim, cream linen skirt became distressingly restrictive. She hitched it up to mid-thigh and leaned back against the comfort of the tree.

  Squeals of sheer delight and happy laughter drew her gaze to a group of island mothers and children doing what she imagined they did most days—taking advantage of the sparkling waters. The colorful clothing caught her eye—brilliant pinks, purples, reds, blues, yellows, greens. Pure colors mirroring this fascinating region, unique in its own right, floating between the exotic north of Asia and the vast expanse of near emptiness of the south steeped in time-tested traditions.

  Lifting her hair from her neck, she twisted it into a manageable coil, letting her head fall back against the tree trunk and closing her eyes. It would be so easy to lose oneself here, to become a lotus-eater, abandoning the world she knew. A trickle of perspiration ran down between her breasts, and she mused that had she been staying she would have bought three or four sarongs in the brilliant colors that covered the hips of the frolicking group.

  But that would never happen. She was leaving tomorrow.

  Russella would have to look to her own conscience, and Corrie could only hope that her cousin’s common sense would prevail. It was as Matt had said, she could convince Rusie she must leave with her, but did she have the right? After all, Rusie was twenty, a grown woman. A slight moan of distress escaped as Rusie’s parents came to mind.

  Aunt Viviene and Uncle Russell had always relied on Corrie’s calm, level-headed influence, as did everyone in the family, to keep the over-indulged Rusie in line. And that was a revelation just now surfacing. She had never thought of that trust as a burden, not until they had arrived here. And now, well...

  Indeed this island had left its mark on both her and Rusie, which Corrie acknowledged she was finding hard to adjust to. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to make mistakes without gasps and looks of horror at her judgment? Not that she had ever done anything to evoke this condemnation in her life.

  Until this adventure!

  Viewed in her present frame of mind, it was becoming the biggest misdemeanor she would ever be guilty of. Life had been a clean slate, except for stealing apples from the next-door neighbor’s tree that was within easy reach of the high timber fence. Being marched next door to confess had indeed left an indelible impression on her as a seven-year-old child.

  A huge sigh left her softly smiling mouth. Later on would be time enough to think more about personal expectations and the fulfillment of those...or not. Right now all she wanted to do was soak up this languid atmosphere, a small slice of paradise. To let it seep into her very bones, to take what it offered in the time left before she was gone.

  She hoped a big enough dose would provide a barrier against the wrench she knew she would experience when she left tomorrow, returning to the claustrophobic city that was her home. Her thoughts jolted her. Since when had she thought of Sydney as claustrophobic?

  That was easy to answer—from the moment she had stepped onto this island from the yellow ferry.

  * * * *

  Victor watched Corrie walk away and waited for Matt to bring Russella back to sit in the car. He beckoned to his young friend then went into the office, waiting for him to follow. As Matt stepped through the door, Vic demanded, “Where’s Corrie gone?”

  “She wanted to walk back to the motel.”

  “And you let her? Matthew, haven’t you any sense at all? She’s not used to these temperatures.”

  “What did you expect me to do, hog-tie her? She insisted, and what she says goes, or have you forgotten? Took Britt on, didn’t she? And summed him up nicely. Odious creature was her description. Although, I thought imbecilic moron would have been more appropriate. What the hell’s the matter with him, Vic? Has he had a change of heart about cutting his ties with Brisbane? Frankly, I didn’t think that relationship amounted to any more than convenience on either side.”

  “You’re right about the convenience.”

  “Well then?” Matt said, and Victor shrugged. “You know, as much as Russella appears to be a free spirit, I suspect it would only take one snap of Corrie’s fingers and she would come to heel. She’ll do as Corrie says, and Corrie’s fair dinkum about them leaving tomorrow, so I had nothing to lose.” Matt’s head dropped slightly. “I’ve jumped the gun a bit. I told her I’m in love with Rusie.”

  “You’re what!”

  * * * *

  “He’s what!” Britt’s head flew up. “The stupid fool! And I suppose she’s besotted with him, like every second female on the island?” He lunged to his feet and strode to the opposite end of the long, wide rear balcony. “If we could put old heads on young shoulders, it would save a lot of heartache. And is the other Miss Nelson aware of this latest development?”

  “Apparently. Matt did tell her. But don’t be too hard on him. By all accounts, he and Russella were going to wait a few days to break the news—”

  “So the feeling is mutual?” Britt demanded. As Vic nodded, Britt let loose a string of curses. “And exactly why didn’t they wait? He’s too damned impatient. Well, he can cool his heels until his Latin blood tempers. We should have suspected this when he breezed in yesterday, moonstruck, and gave him a lecture there and then. I know we did wonder, but this garbage of being in love after one day is absolutely impossible. I tell you, impossible!” He raked his hand through his hair.

  His words were so vehement Victor assessed him more closely.

  “The havoc those two Miss Nelsons have created in one day is unbelievable,” he gnashed. He was back in the huge cane chair, leaning forward, his gaze on Victor. “And what do we do about this ridiculous mess? Knowing these hit-and-run southerners, she’ll probably sue him for breach of promise when he comes to his senses. She’s probably just another gold-digger.”

  “That’s not cricket, Britt.”

  “Damned right it is! You of all people know it is. And that’s another point, if they do marry...” He was on his feet again. “He does intend marrying her?” he asked, but before Victor could answer, another thought came. “Maybe we should encourage them to live together. Now that’s a thought, a possible solution. Because, believe me, after living here for six months she’ll be high-tailing it back to her safe nest in Sydney. A foregone conclusion! Proven many times over the years.”

  He stalked the length of the balcony and back, to look to the east, his gaze on the waterfront and Tern Island. Britt knew Vic would give him his own space while he dealt with the memories of his mother’s desertion and the messy blackmail threat, the reason for his harsh words.

  When Britt swung around, Victor quietly announced, “It isn’t the end of the story, Britt.”

  His eyes flicked at Victor then narrowed expectantly.

  “Wing Lee asked me to inform you that he will not be shouted at. He’s threatened to pack his bags and move home to Singapore.”

  “Singapore? Bloody rubbish! And I can’t recall shouting at Wing.”

  “A debatable point, and there’s more.”

  “More?”

  “Yep.” Vic paused. “Corrie has—”

  “So it’s Corrie now?” Britt interrupted. “My, my, things have progressed.” A biting bitterness he couldn’t control was evident, and when Vic raised one eyebrow, Britt cursed at not having kept his mouth shut. His friend was far too astute as to what made him tick. The best he could do was to ignore those incriminating words, and ask objectively, “You were saying?”

  “Corrie has decided they fly out tomorrow via Cairns. She asked me to inform you that she would be ‘out of your hair by tomorrow, Mr. Britt Hendricks’. Word for word. And it’s been confirmed by Matt’s conversation with her. That’s the reason he made the announcement of how things stood with him and Russella.”

  Britt frowned, his jaw clenched uncontrollably hard, making pain shoot up into his temples. He couldn’t let
this happen. Whatever the outcome was of this feeling he had for this woman, it had to be given a chance.

  He was needed at his Cairns office in two days to deal with the perpetrator of fraud. He could follow her, but that wouldn’t be the same. For some deep, unfathomable reason, he knew it had to be resolved here, where it began. He became aware of his friend watching him intently.

  Then Vic added, slowly, “But Russella refuses to go.”

  With those words, Britt felt a surge of relief. He had been given time and decided had Matt’s young lady been there, he probably would have hugged her.

  “But it’s as Matt said—Corrie only has to snap her fingers and Russella will do as she’s told. However, I got the feeling that even if Russella defies Corrie and stays for the week of their holiday booking, Corrie is definitely leaving.” Victor turned to sit on a cane lounge.

  Britt lowered into a huge cane chair. He was back where he started. And feeling worse than ever. Just how many more emotions had he to endure? Desire, longing, jealousy, bitterness, despair, relief—all of them swept aside with this knowledge that from the moment he had laid eyes on her, knowing they had never met, he knew her. Knew her in every way, and now he was never going to be given the delight of proving he was right.

  Damn the woman! Damn her for not realizing this was how it was, how it was meant to be. Didn’t she feel anything? She must! Hell, he was so angry for her having this damned unaccountable effect on him. This incredible recognition! She was completely intriguing. Captivating! A pain attacked, excruciating, shafting deep into his stomach. He was making a complete jackass of himself, and that grinning bastard, Vic, knew it. A harsh expletive left his lips, and immediately he heard Victor chuckle.

  “Shut up!” Britt ordered, but Vic’s chuckle turned into soft laughter. “Be careful. You think you know more than there is to know, my friend. And for God’s sake, cut that diabolical cackle.”

  This resulted in Victor slapping his thigh with his hand and bounding to his feet. He stood looking down at his best friend slumped in his favorite chair.

  “You’re smitten!” Vic chuckled, and Britt answered appropriately with another strong word, which further goaded Victor in declaring, even more forcefully, as he slapped his thigh again, “You are! My God, the mighty has fallen, and with one hell of a bang. At last the day has come we’ve waited for. The homilies Matt and I have endured about keeping them at arm’s length, take but never give, they’re all gold diggers, guard your back. And the irony of it all is she hates your guts!”

  “And of course she’s confided in you,” Britt snapped.

  “In Matt. Does her calling you odious creature sound derogative enough?”

  There was a long silence in which both men fell prey to their inner thoughts. Britt was full of personal recriminations because of his unaccountable anger toward Corrie.

  Britt suddenly sat forward, his hands clenched between his parted thighs. “What’s happened to me is something I’ve never experienced in my life. Or ever had any conceivable idea I would experience. Let alone understand. Yes, I’m smitten. Well and truly, and I feel I’ve been taken over by some weird, inexplicable demon that I.... Hell, I’m aching all over as though I’ve been run over by a steam roller, and the lady hates my guts. And I, and I....” He strained further forward. “My God, Vic, have you ever laid eyes on any one thing so ethereally beautiful, so unbelievably perfect?”

  “I must say I agree with you, she is unique.”

  “When she stepped from that car, those long, beautiful legs walked right into my life, and I knew her. Every sense I possess knew her, and it devastated me. We had never met before, but I knew her! And irrationally, I thought she would have to feel the same. I hated Matt with an intensity that was frightening, because I only saw her and thought she was the one...” He gave a chuckle. “And you, you bastard, knew I’d only seen Corrie.”

  “We-l-l-l, I sort of drew that conclusion, and you verified it with your later behavior. You don’t have to warn me off, Britt, as Matt did. I’ll not interfere with your chances, such as they are with her present opinion of you. But if you don’t change your attitude toward her, then look out.”

  “You’re going to become her protector?” queried Britt with a stir of heated possessiveness. “There will be no need for your assistance now that I’ve acknowledged what’s ailing me. Did she actually call me that...odious creature?” Vic nodded to verify Corrie’s opinion, and Britt declared, “I need a drink. But not here, I also need some air. The Prince of Wales will do,” he said, naming the hotel that his company owned.

  * * * *

  Britt, alighting from the small utility vehicle in front of the hotel, automatically let his gaze scan across the channel to Edward Island. He adjusted his vision to the deep shade beneath the Wongai tree.

  Corrie was there! She was partly obscured by the gnarled tree trunk she was sitting against, but he knew it was her. Without a word to Vic, he closed his door and strode across the wide parking area then the road. He made himself slow the long strides he was taking, not wanting to alarm her.

  He paused, his eyes taking their fill of her. Her head tilted back, one slender hand holding the twist of her uniquely shaded brown hair, the wind flinging loose strands across her oval face and appreciatively flattening her blue and cream striped top against her delicious curves. His insides twisted, his hands lifted with need, hesitated, then ran over his short, cropped hair.

  He made himself take a steadying breath when all he wanted to do was throw himself on her and gather her body against his entire length, mold her to him. Hell, he was acting like some uncivilized barbarian instead of a respected businessman.

  He chose his footsteps carefully between telltale tidal flotsam, intent on drawing as near as possible before she became aware someone was sharing her space. He slowly crouched down and extended his hand, wanting to touch her flushed cheek, then he paused to withdraw it. With amazement, he found his hand was shaking.

  His eyes took a tender journey of her serene, lovely face, then, with a yearning he couldn’t hide, he softly said, “Corrie?”

  * * * *

  Oh, leave me be was Corrie’s thought as her name floated down to her through the mists of the restorative doze. She could hear the far-off, happy laughter from the sea shore, and as she emerged further from dozing, her body, for some reason, became tense with awareness.

  Someone was watching her! Someone very close!

  Her eyes flew open, her breath strangled. Her free hand lifted sharply to guard her face, sending her sunglasses flying, baring her face completely. She was looking into brilliant sea-green eyes that filled her entire vision.

  She instantly drew back. She knew who those eyes belonged to!

  “Miss Nelson, I startled you. I’m sorry.”

  She flinched away from him.

  “You’ve caught the sun.” His hand extended and the backs of his fingers gently touched her cheeks. “Here and here.” The tip of his index finger lightly tapped the end of her nose, and he was smiling, quite devastatingly, and Corrie panicked.

  She blurted out, “What do you want? Did you follow me here? I know you own a good part of this island. I suppose I’m trespassing and you’ve come to tell me so...with relish. You are without a doubt the most incomprehensible man I’ve ever met.” Why couldn’t she stop this tirade of words that just seemed to go on and on completely beyond her control?

  His green eyes flared. “Incomprehensible! Isn’t odious creature descriptive enough?”

  Corrie felt her face flame. “Your underlings have given their reports, I see.”

  “There are no underlings in Arafura Enterprises,” he grated.

  “You surprise me.”

  “And you me. I could excuse your rude behavior on my waking you from sleep, but that isn’t the case. That serene face of yours holds a vicious tongue, Miss Nelson. I came to apologize for my unseemly earlier behavior, incorrectly thinking that I was totally to blame. But I find my concern was
entirely misguided. I now see that at least half the responsibility for the distasteful meeting, and its outcome, lies partly with you and your obvious closed mind to anything other than what concerns you immediately.”

  Corrie found herself gagging on her indignant retort to his character assassination of her.

  “I believe you intend to leave our island tomorrow. I find it will be more than a pleasure to buy your airline ticket.” He sprung to his feet to swing away and stride across the road to the hotel.

  Corrie watched in astonishment as his tall, lithe figure thrust through the swinging louvre half-doors, then emerged within seconds in the same fashion, closely followed by Victor. Car doors slammed, and with a squeal of tires, the utility vehicle spun from its parking spot to head back in the direction of his office.

  He was throwing her off the island?

  He was! That’s what he meant by saying he’d buy her airline ticket. And he found it more than a pleasure? A pleasure! Well, she’d show him! She would leave tonight. By charter flight. And certainly not by that stupid ferry owned by Arafura Enterprises. She would also be out of that motel he owned.

  Good grief, he had his tentacles everywhere she looked. Coastal shipping freighters, the pearling industry, commercial ventures, tourism, they all wore the name of Arafura Enterprises, and that was him.

  Him, the most odious, obnoxious creature on this earth!

  She lunged to her feet and swayed ominously. She flung out her hand in desperation toward the stabilizing strength of the thick trunk and sought its comfort. Her burning cheek touched a patch of wind-blown smooth timber. With alarming clarity, the memory of the backs of gentle fingers touching her fiery cheeks, and one golden finger tapping her nose in playful reprimand, crashed down on her.

  Everything she had experienced concerning him had been like that, earth-shattering, devastating, except the touch of his flesh on hers. It had been a caress, and why hadn’t she recognized it as such? Even when he first said her name, it had been soft, and he had called her Corrie. Not Miss Nelson, but Corrie, and his deep voice had made it sound intrinsically right, so very right.