Moondrift. Anne Mather

not!’ Jordan’s indignation was her only defence. ‘I wasn’t doing anything wrong.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘No.’ She licked the rainwater from her lips. ‘What’s it to you anyway? I wouldn’t have expected you to be prudish, Rhys.’ She paused. ‘And I didn’t ask you to watch, did I?’

      ‘So you admit you were putting on an act?’

      ‘I do not.’ Jordan’s dark eyes had taken on the greenish tinge of the sea and they sparkled resentfully. She shook her head. ‘I don’t have to listen to this, you know. What I do or don’t do is my own affair. Now, will you please step out of my way. I’d like to get back to my car.’

      ‘That—vehicle—is yours?’

      ‘The buggy, yes.’ Jordan endeavoured to hide the fact that she was trembling. ‘Excuse me, I have to get back.’

      Rhys didn’t move. ‘To the hotel?’ he enquired tautly, and she nodded. ‘What are you doing on this road?’

      Jordan gasped. ‘That’s my business!’

      ‘I’m making it mine.’

      She shook her head. ‘This is ridiculous! Get out of my way!’

      ‘In a minute.’ Rhys stepped closer to her. ‘When you’ve told me what you were doing prowling round my property.’

      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Jordan was feeling distinctly apprehensive now. ‘I was not—prowling round your property. As a matter of fact, Nana’s ill. I’ve been to see her.’

      ‘Nana? Oh, your old nurse.’

      ‘That’s right.’ Jordan suppressed the urge to physically keep him at bay. ‘If you remember, she lives at the other side of the island.’

      ‘Oh, I remember.’ Rhys wiped an impatient hand along his jaw. ‘And that’s the only reason you stopped here?’

      ‘I’ve told you. It’s raining, or hadn’t you noticed. I couldn’t see where I was going.’

      Rhys hesitated, then stepped back again, much to her relief. ‘All right, I suppose I have to believe you.’

      ‘You can please yourself.’ Jordan’s words were bravely said, even if her voice was tremulous. ‘Now, do you mind if I get on?’

      Rhys lifted his shoulders. ‘Be my guest.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      It was an effort to walk past him to the buggy. She was trembling so much, her limbs seemed incapable of responding to the simplest commands, and she was sure he would notice. Her short skirt and bare legs were terribly revealing, and with the sodden curtain of her hair about her shoulders, she felt as coltish and ungainly as the teenager she had once been.

      The seat of the buggy was a puddle of water, but she didn’t stop to wipe it away. With quivering fingers, she fired the ignition, and expelled her breath in deep relief when it responded at the first attempt.

      The first person she saw when she got back to the hotel was Karen, and her sister regarded her with some concern. ‘What happened to you?’ she exclaimed. ‘Couldn’t you have waited until the storm was over to drive home? I know you wanted to make sure the musicians had arrived, but I could have handled it.’

      ‘I know that.’ In all honesty, Jordan had forgotten about the planned entertainment for the evening. ‘I—it wasn’t raining when I left. I thought I’d make it in time.’

      ‘Well, obviously you didn’t.’ Karen pulled a face. ‘But it’s quite a change to see you looking your age for once. You look nice with your hair loose, Jordan. I’ve always thought so.’

      Jordan turned away towards the stairs. ‘The pins came out,’ she offered, unwilling to discuss the reasons for her dishevelment. ‘I’m going to take a shower. Send me up some tea, will you, love?’

      ‘Is that necessary? The shower, I mean.’

      Karen’s amused retort followed her up the stairs, but Jordan made no response. She badly needed to recover her composure and her equilibrium, and restoring her appearance to its usual neatness was the only way she knew to initiate the process.

      In her bedroom, however, she viewed her bedraggled state with reluctant compulsion. She wanted to see for herself what Rhys must have seen, and her skin crawled in humiliation at the sorry picture she presented. Hair like rats’ tails, clothes sticking to her, long bare legs streaked with mud: she didn’t have to look at her face to know she had made a fool of herself. Nevertheless, her eyes did seek their reflection in the mirror, faltering at the tremulous expression they saw there, and moving on over pale cheeks to the vulnerable separation of her mouth. Dear God, she thought, with painful self-derision, what must he have thought of her? After all this time, she should have been more prepared for his censure, but she wasn’t. What had she expected? Why had she been so shocked? They were antagonists after all, not acquaintances; enemies, not friends. How could she have anticipated civility from Rhys, when their parting had been so savage?

      Two days later, Jordan was returning from an early morning swim when she saw Mary-Jo coming to meet her. Most of the guests were at breakfast, and Jordan had taken the opportunity to relax for a while, away from her hotel duties. Besides which, she had been awake for hours, waiting for the pale golden light of morning to slat through the shutters, and the sand crabs had still been active when she tossed a towelling jacket about her shoulders and made her way down to the lagoon.

      Now, seeing Mary-Jo hurrying towards her, she knew an immediate premonition of disaster. What had happened? she wondered. Surely in the hour or so she had been absent no sinister misfortune had taken place. But the ominous feeling persisted, and she quickened her step accordingly.

      ‘I’ve been looking for you.’ Mary-Jo’s dark face mirrored her concern. ‘You weren’t in your room and you weren’t on the terrace. I was worried!’

      ‘Worried?’ Jordan gave her a disbelieving look. ‘I’ve swum in the morning before. Why didn’t you ask Karen where I was?’

      ‘I did, but she said she didn’t know.’

      ‘No, but—well—oh, this is ridiculous.’ Jordan shook her anxieties aside. ‘What is it? Why did you need to find me so urgently? Don’t tell me—Mrs Lorrimer has found cockroaches in the bathroom!’

      Mary-Jo shook her head. ‘It’s no joke, Jordan. I just wanted to tell you before you found out for yourself.’

      ‘Found what out?’ Jordan couldn’t deny the little frisson of apprehension that was making itself felt in the pit of her stomach. ‘What has happened that’s of such earth-shattering importance you felt the need to come and find me?’

      ‘Rhys Williams has booked a table for dinner tonight,’ announced Mary-Jo, somewhat sulkily, evidently deciding her employer’s attitude was not worthy of her distress. ‘I just thought you’d want to know, that’s all. I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was amusing.’

      Nor did Jordan, and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked in her breath. ‘How—how do you know this?’ she demanded, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, and Mary-Jo shrugged.

      ‘I read it—this morning. He must have rung last night, when Raoul was in charge of the switchboard. But it’s there in black and white, if you don’t believe me. A table for two at nine o’clock.’

      ‘I—I believe you.’ Jordan tightened the cord of her towelling jacket. Rhys was coming here! He was actually planning to eat dinner at her hotel—with his daughter. What kind of game was he playing?

      ‘I told Karen,’ added Mary-Jo, falling into step beside Jordan as she began to walk numbly back to the hotel. ‘She said you wouldn’t be bothered, but I didn’t believe her.’

      ‘What? Oh—oh, yes, you did right to tell me,’ murmured Jordan painfully. ‘I—just