Trust Too Much. Jayne Bauling

incident—that to which Simon Rhodes had been referring—but anger followed. She thought it had happened four years ago, about a year after she had attacked him over his rejection of Ismay Compton. There had been a barbecue but it had rained and everyone had gone inside—except for her and Warren Bates. The two of them had been looking shyly at each other at school for ages, and she had finally found the courage to invite him to the barbecue. They had been so tentative, nervous of each other but reluctant to become part of the crowd indoors, both jumping with embarrassment when their hands touched before deciding that they liked the feeling, linking their fingers, smiling self-consciously at each other.

      It was at that precise moment that Simon had stepped out into the softly falling rain, probably bored by the company inside. He had looked at them, standing there holding hands, and then Fee had seen the icy anger gathering in his eyes.

      ‘You’re not part of the regular circuit, are you?’ he had addressed Warren contemptuously. ‘These parties are closed affairs.’

      ‘I invited him,’ Fee flared heatedly as Warren snatched his hand away, sulky and scarlet-faced.

      ‘And who invited you, darling?’ Simon retorted coolly. ‘This is an adult party.’

      ‘I happen to live here!’ She had been so angry that for once she’d been able to address him without any self-conscious stammering.

      ‘Which entitles you to what precisely?’ He had remained coldly angry.

      ‘Babs—’

      ‘Babs is broke as usual, so this isn’t her party. Charles Sandilands and I happen to be financing it, and we put a ban on gatecrashers and juveniles, so get rid of him and make yourself scarce.’

      Then he had turned abruptly and gone inside again. Nothing Fee could say or do had succeeded in soothing Warren’s wounded pride, and he had departed without re-entering the house, leaving her to rejoin the adults defiantly, seething with fury as she met Simon’s eyes.

      ‘I thought I told you to make yourself scarce? Evidently love’s young dream is more amenable to taking a hint than you are,’ he suddenly commented with a slight edge to his voice, addressing her from a chair close to the table from which she had just helped herself to a glass of wine.

      ‘Hint? I hate you,’ she had muttered furiously. ‘Just because you’re in a bad mood about something—’

      Fee had never been sure what had happened then. Rage was choking her and all her co-ordination seemed to desert her and as she tried to prevent the accident, too late because it had already happened and a startled Simon was drenched in wine, either she or the floor had tilted and she had ended up sprawling over him.

      The subsequent explosion of temper had shocked everyone present, their laughter dying as Simon’s considerable sense of humour had deserted him for once, while Fee could only stand there stammering, dying of humiliation as he had expressed himself uninhibitedly on the subject of her clumsiness specifically and the presence of adolescents at adult parties in general.

      Babs had eventually dragged her out of the room and comforted her, and after that day Fee had taken pains to remain hidden in her bedroom whenever he was around. That period hadn’t lasted long, though, as she had just passed her final exams, and the increasingly restless urge to discover the world beyond Hong Kong that had kept her and two schoolfriends diligently saving every dollar they earned over several years at their part-time jobs on supermarket tills had at least seen them heading for Australia.

      Now she was home, and Simon Rhodes was still around, as insensitive as ever.

      Fee stood up again and began to descend the stairs, suddenly eager to confront Simon and show him that she was no longer the gauche teenager of four years ago, bereft of any defiance against his contempt. What she had overheard had first embarrassed and then angered her, but now her anticipation was unexpectedly mixed with an odd pleasure. It was just ironic that his unsympathetic attitude should be giving her this sort of strength, when everyone else’s kindness had merely succeeded in weakening her.

      To her satisfaction, Simon was standing just inside the lounge, close to the door, apparently listening to the breathless chatter of one of the loveliest women Fee had ever seen—only apparently, because his eyes, of a blue that was utterly different from the blue of hers, were roaming the room and lingering typically every time they came to rest on an attractive woman.

      Fee felt a surge of sheer excitement as she observed him, like the exhilaration of an adrenalin-rush, but she knew it wasn’t really personal. Simon just had that effect on people generally. In his presence, women sparkled and men were on their mettle, upping the level of their conversation, becoming wittier and cleverer.

      He was tall, probably over six feet, and preposterously handsome, exactly as she remembered him although he was in his thirties now and his lifestyle ought to be telling; but there were no signs of dissipation that she could see so far, only the same arrogant enjoyment just touched with a contradictory trace of boredom. Leanly built, he looked elegant but subtly powerful in his immaculate smart-casual clothes, and superbly healthy, skin as tanned and light hair as naturally sun-bleached as ever because, as Fee recalled, he played as enthusiastically as he worked, regularly disappearing to exotic and glamorous pleasure-spots all over the world, usually taking a woman along with him.

      The beautifully shaped head turned as if he had sensed her approach and for a second his glance was alert yet simultaneously indifferent, and she remembered how ruthless he could be in his dismissal of people, both men and women, who failed to interest him.

      ‘May I lurch past you, please?’ she requested limpidly, with a smile for his companion.

      ‘Fee.’ As recognition lit those bright, warm blue eyes, it was as if all his natural vitality blazed up into full life, touching all those around him, and yet seconds later his expression was hardening, eyes narrowing in cynical appraisal. ‘And look at you, all grown up and home from the wars.’

      ‘The lynch mob is more like it. How are you, Simon? Don’t worry, I’m quite safe without a drink.’ She showed him her empty hands and gave the woman beside him another smile. ‘Hello, I don’t think I know you, do I?’

      ‘You heard,’ Simon realised softly, the cynical look vanishing and his slow smile of wicked enjoyment revealing perfectly white and even teeth. ‘And you’re cross with me, but I refuse to apologise as eavesdroppers only ever hear the truth and you were a physical threat to everyone in your vicinity—although, looking at you now and guessing where the glamour comes from, I think that these days I might find one of the collisions in which you specialised somewhat more exciting than I did back then.’

      Then, without giving her time to react, he introduced her and Loren Kincaid to each other. A few years older than Fee, Loren was small but exquisitely endowed with perfectly proportioned curves, as well as a shining cap of jet-black hair and huge violet eyes. She had been looking insecure, Fee had noticed, a familiar state among Simon’s women when his gaze started travelling, but now her rosebud mouth relaxed into a genuinely friendly smile, presumably because she had decided that Fee wasn’t to be regarded as a rival for this glamorous, gorgeous but incorrigibly restless man.

      ‘This party is to welcome you home, isn’t it? I think you did the right thing, Fee, coming back,’ Loren assured her with earnest goodwill. ‘You’ll feel safe here.’

      ‘Why in the world should she want to feel safe?’ Simon expressed exaggerated astonishment, his gaze probing as it swivelled to Fee. ‘It did occur to me that your stepsister might have a point when she was loyally insisting that you’d been taken advantage of, but that was while I was still visualising the old Fee. Now that I see you, I refuse to believe it. Quite clearly you’ve learnt to take care of yourself and are safe anywhere. Congratulations. You had your fun, pulling one of Australia’s top financiers and then leaving him looking a total prat into the bargain. I imagine you’ve come home to celebrate.’

      ‘I didn’t pull—’ Fee stopped herself, realising that she was about to sound like the gauche eighteen-year-old she had been when last she had seen him, because that