Dark Fire. Robyn Donald

      Dark Fire

      Robyn Donald

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CONTENTS

       COVER

       TITLE PAGE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       EPILOGUE

       COPYRIGHT

       CHAPTER ONE

      WHEN Paul came to pick her up, Aura Forsythe’s heart swelled with pride.

      He looked so good, the black and white of his evening clothes setting off his fair hair and skin. But she didn’t love him for his blond handsomeness. Aura knew, none better, that good looks and regular features had little to do with the person beneath the fleshy veneer.

      It had been his smile that first caught her attention, and his air of calm, confident good humour. However, very soon after meeting Paul McAlpine she had realised that he was utterly, completely reliable. It made him irresistible.

      Over the past three months she’d come to understand him very well, this man she was to marry in a fortnight’s time. Bathed in the warmth of his love, her turbulent search for some measure of peace in her life was transformed into serenity. She had never been so happy.

      ‘We’re meeting Flint at the restaurant,’ he said as he opened the door of his expensive car for her. ‘He wants to shower and change, but he’ll probably be at Quaglino’s before we are.’ Flint Jansen was to be best man at their wedding in two weeks’ time.

      ‘Where does he live?’

      ‘In Remuera, but he’s staying with me.’

      ‘Oh. Why?’

      ‘His place is being redecorated. Wet paint everywhere, so he’s going to stay with me for at least a week, and possibly until the wedding.’

      He lifted her hand to kiss the slender fingers. Aura’s full mouth curved into a smile.

      ‘You look very pretty tonight,’ Paul murmured as he released her.

      ‘Thank you. I like this dress.’

      Although compliments still made her uneasy, experience had trained her to handle them with poise. And compliments from Paul were no threat.

      The dress was one she had had for some years, but the rich, muted green silk played up hair the colour of good burgundy wine and ivory skin, darkened and emphasised her huge green eyes.

      ‘So the fabled Flint Jansen is here. It seems odd that I haven’t met your best friend yet,’ she said, deliberately steadying her voice as she changed the subject with automatic skill.

      Paul laughed softly. ‘He was saying the same thing. I told him that if he insists on staying in Indonesia for months at a time he must expect things to happen while he’s gone.’

      Suddenly a car roared across the intersection in front of them. Paul reacted swiftly and without alarm, but Aura was flung forward on to the seatbelt.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he asked sharply.

      She flashed him a reassuring smile. The way he looked after her, as though she were a precious piece of porcelain, made her feel safe and cherished.

      ‘Yes, I’m fine. You’ve got very fast reactions.’

      His mouth turned up at the corner. ‘Not so fast as Flint’s. He’s like greased lightning. We went hunting in the Uraweras once and he stopped me from going over a cliff.’ He paused, then finished enviously, ‘Man, did he move! Faster than a king cobra and stronger than a horse. I’m no lightweight, but he hauled me back out of the air as though I were made of balsa wood.’

      ‘He sounds very macho.’ Her voice was cool and non-committal.

      Paul laughed. ‘It’s not the way I’d describe him. Macho has a ring of fundamental insecurity to it, whereas Flint is honest right through. And completely self-sufficient.’

      ‘Honesty,’ Aura said cynically, ‘can be a much overrated quality.’

      Paul’s smile was tender and tolerant. ‘Don’t try to shock me, darling, I know your little tricks. Although I must admit Flint’s complete self-assurance does antagonise people—mostly people who envy it!’

      ‘Well, we all envy the things we haven’t got,’ Aura agreed, thinking of the many qualities she yearned for.

      ‘How would you know? You’ve got everything.’

      Aura’s snort was followed by a smile. ‘I’m glad you think so. You and he don’t seem to have much in common.’

      ‘We don’t, but Flint’s the best friend I’ve ever had. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly—if at all—he’s about as yielding as granite bedrock, and he has the sort of ominous patience that makes a cat hunting a mouse look testy. But I like him, and I think you will too. He’ll certainly be impressed by you. He has an eye for a beautiful woman.’

      I’ll just bet he has, Aura thought wearily. A cold foreboding sandpapered her nerves. She didn’t want to meet Flint Jansen; she already knew she wasn’t going to like him.

      ‘He hasn’t had much sleep these last few days,’ Paul went on. ‘He’s been tidying up a very hush-hush situation in Indonesia and he strode off the plane looking like something piratical and fierce from the South China Sea.’

      ‘He must be exhausted! Perhaps we should have skipped tonight, and just met at the party tomorrow night.’

      ‘He’s tough enough to cope.’ Paul smiled indulgently. ‘It’s inborn. I remember when he first arrived in primary school he was given a rugged time—kids can be little heathens, can’t they?—and we’ve been friends ever since.’

      Aura already knew that Flint Jansen and Paul had gone to the same expensive boarding school. She was surprised to hear the rest, however. From the few allusions that Paul had made to his best friend, she’d visualised him as being born able to deal with anything the world threw at him, an iron baby who’d progressed inexorably into an iron child, then hardened more as he grew into an iron man.

      ‘Why did he have such a bad time at school?’

      Paul’s shoulders lifted. ‘Family scandal. His father decamped with a vast amount of other people’s money—turned out he’d been spending it on a rather notorious woman who was his mistress. There was a luridly salacious fuss in the newspapers, ending in a court case and even more gaudy revelations. Some of the people his father had defrauded had kids at school. The whole thing got out of hand a bit. Mind you, Flint gave as good as he got, but it was an unhappy couple of years for him.’

      ‘How old was he?’

      ‘Only eight. Old enough to know what was going on, too young to be able to protect himself from older boys who tormented him. Although he tried.’ He laughed reminiscently. ‘Lord, he must have fought every kid in the school who even looked sideways at him. He didn’t care what