Wildfire Page 6

  As Lizzy watched them she was trying, not for the first time, to work out why she felt such an antipathy towards Oliver when he had never been anything but warm and friendly towards her and, as far as she could tell, open and honest with Rhiannon. With his dark-blond hair, clear brown eyes and ready smile, he looked exactly what he was, an ex-public schoolboy who radiated as much privilege as he did charm. At thirty-two he was three years older than Rhiannon and had, until recently, lived almost exclusively in New York where he’d received his training, and all his major breaks, as a diamond dealer. Since meeting Rhiannon he had started building up his business in London so they could spend more time together and so far everything was working like a dream. So much so, in fact, that Lizzy couldn’t help wondering if that was what was giving her the problem – that it was all just too easy, just too perfect – and she was just too jealous.

  As he caught her eye and smiled, Lizzy felt her insides tighten and finding herself unable to smile back she stooped to retrieve her bag. ‘Well, I think I’ll leave you all to it,’ she said, putting her sun-glasses on before anyone noticed the tears that had suddenly welled in her eyes. ‘I’ll see you back here at four.’

  Doug and Andy watched her go, then exchanging quick glances turned back as Jack said, ‘Yeah, I think I’ll hit the sack for an hour too. Good to see you, Oliver.’

  ‘Yeah, good to see you,’ Hugh echoed. ‘Catch you later.’

  ‘Sure,’ Oliver replied, hitting their palms as they passed.

  ‘The suite’s ready,’ Doug informed them as Rhiannon wrapped her arms around Oliver again. ‘I guess you know the way by now. I’ll get someone to move Rhiannon’s things over later.’

  As Andy and Doug strolled off across the camp with Melanie and Elmore, Rhiannon gazed up into Oliver’s eyes. ‘I can’t believe you’ve done this,’ she smiled. ‘You’ve come all this way just to be with me?’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, I might have a meeting or two in Johannesburg,’ he confessed. Then kissing her softly on the mouth he added, ‘But I scheduled them so I could get to spend some time with you here. What do you think of it?’ he added, sweeping his eyes around the camp.

  ‘I think it’s one of the most romantic places I’ve ever been,’ she answered honestly. ‘It’s got a kind of magic about it. It seems to do things to people. I mean everyone, just everyone, is falling in love or doing things they might not normally do.’

  ‘And you?’ he said, lifting her hair in his hands. ‘Are you falling in love?’

  ‘Oh, I think so,’ she whispered.

  As his mouth came down on hers she clung to him tightly. Despite his continual assurances and demonstrations of love, there were still moments when the damage of her past made her feel insecure and almost afraid to believe her own instincts.

  ‘I need a shave,’ he grimaced, lifting his head to look down at her.

  She smiled. ‘And I need a shower.’

  Laughing, he turned her in the direction of the Safari Suite. ‘Have you seen it yet?’ he asked as they started towards it.

  ‘Yes. We shot an interview there an hour ago,’ she told him. ‘It’s wonderful. But what I want to know is how come you know it.’

  ‘I told you before, I’ve stayed here a few times after meetings in Jo’burg or Durban,’ he answered. ‘I’ve brought clients here too.’

  ‘Just clients?’ she teased.

  ‘Just clients,’ he responded with a humorous arch of his eyebrows.

  As they reached the threshold she turned to look at him again. He was right, he did need a shave and as beautiful as his eyes were they looked tired.

  ‘It’s a long flight from New York,’ he reminded her when she remarked on it. ‘And it turned out to be a pretty gruelling schedule while I was there.’

  ‘How did it go?’ she asked as they walked in through the door.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Not bad,’ he answered. ‘But I think I’ll have to go back again pretty soon. God, will you just look at this place?’ he murmured, putting an arm around her shoulders and resting his head on hers.

  ‘It’s everything you said it would be and more,’ Rhiannon smiled as they gazed across the sitting-room and out of the vast picture windows to the private pool and tangled mass of trees beyond.

  ‘You sure you don’t mind me turning up like this?’ he said, as they walked over to the windows. ‘I’m not cramping your style or anything?’

  ‘What do you think?’ she laughed.

  Stopping to lean against a wooden pillar on the terrace, he stood her in front of him and gazed long into her eyes. ‘Love you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Love you too,’ she said.

  Smiling, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘Didn’t you say something about needing a shower just now?’ he asked, lowering his fingers to her shirt buttons and starting to unfasten them.

  ‘Mmm,’ she replied.

  ‘God, you smell good,’ he told her, stooping to kiss her neck as he slipped her shirt down over her shoulders. Then dropping her shirt to the floor, he reached behind her to unfasten her bra while seeking her mouth with his.

  ‘Mmm,’ he groaned, his voice reverberating gently through her as he peeled her bra away and cupped her heavy breasts in his hands.

  A sharp, stinging desire was pulsing between her legs as he bit gently on her lips and massaged her breasts, teasing her hard, aching nipples with his fingers. The feel of the warm breeze on her back, the hypnotic chant of the birds and idle chafing of the bush seemed to heighten the sensuousness of his touch, as though he were filling her with new, exquisite pleasures.

  ‘Stand back, let me look at you,’ he whispered.

  Obediently she stepped back and watched the tension increase in his face as he swept her hair over her shoulders to reveal the full beauty of her breasts with their powdery coating of freckles and succulent red nipples. Her fingers sank into the glossy thickness of his hair as he lowered his head and drew first one, then the other nipple deep into his mouth, circling them with his tongue and sucking them hard.

  Then resting his hands on her hips, he stood looking down into her eyes until finally, as his mouth closed over hers, he took her hand and placed it over the bulge in his trousers.

  ‘There’s a shower right there,’ he told her gruffly, his breath catching as she squeezed him hard. Turning her so she could see the shower beside the pool, he put his lips to her ear and whispered, ‘Take off the rest of your clothes, I’ll go and find some soap.’

  A few minutes later they were both naked beneath the cascading luke-warm water, gently soaping each other’s bodies as they drew each other slowly towards the point when neither would be able to hold back any more.

  It was when finally he laid her down on the tiles beside the pool and covered her body with his own that Randy Theakston slipped silently back through the trees, the film in her camera starting automatically to rewind.

  Even before she blinked her eyes open, Lizzy knew that someone else was in the room. Or maybe someone had been there and it was the sound of them leaving that had woken her; she couldn’t as yet be sure. She lay very still on the bed, sunlight streaming across her body as she listened to the incessant buzz of insect life and felt the cooling draft of the ceiling fan brush lightly over her skin. She could hear the steady drip of a tap coming from the bathroom and the distant sounds of the camp carrying on the afternoon breeze.

  Allowing her eyes to flicker open she gazed up at the fluttering mosquito net that had been ruched above the bed, then raising herself on her elbows she looked around the chalet. Nothing, as far as she could tell, had been moved, but someone had been there, of that she was certain.

  Swinging her feet to the floor she sat on the edge of the bed, conscious of something not being quite right, but for the moment unable to locate it. It was nothing, she felt sure, to do with her phantom visitor, it was something that had yet to surface in her sleep-shadowed mind. Then, as though someone had suddenl
y ripped back a veil, it was there. Her head fell forward as she hugged herself and struggled to hold back the familiar ache of despair. But the realities of her life, past and present, were already raining down on her in randomly brutal blows. Richard was dead. Oliver had turned up. Andy had rejected her. She was a desperate, frustrated woman who had allowed herself to be used like a tramp. She wanted Richard. Her life meant nothing without him. Why had God done this to her? Why had Andy been so cruel? Why did Oliver have to come into their lives?

  Taking deep, steadying breaths she forced her head up and tried to slow her thoughts. It was always bad in the first few minutes of waking, she just needed a little time to collect herself.

  Closing her eyes tightly, she dug her nails into the bed. Though she despised herself for it she knew how jealous she was of Rhiannon’s relationship with Oliver. She deeply resented Oliver for being the one Rhiannon turned to now, when for the past two years, ever since Richard had been killed in a car crash, she and Rhiannon had been inseparable. They had come to count on each other, had always been there for each other, sharing the highs and lows of life, building the programme and watching their fame and fortunes grow. Then, three months ago, they had been at De Beers making a programme on the exclusive world of diamond dealing, when the elevator doors had opened and Oliver Maguire had walked into their lives, sweeping Rhiannon right off her feet and usurping Lizzy’s place as Rhiannon’s best friend.

  Pulling herself up from the bed, Lizzy wrapped herself in a towel and walked over to the mirror. Her hair was still damp from the shower and sticking to her head. Finding a comb she began to drag it through her curls, though the heaviness in her heart seemed to be spreading to her limbs. There were times when everything felt so much of an effort that she wondered why she even bothered. Two years and she still missed Richard so much, felt so unbearably lost without him, that it might only have happened yesterday.

  Fixing her eyes on her reflection, she tried forcing herself to smile even though grief was tightening her throat. How many times had friends told her that she must get out more, start building a new life and trying with other men. Despite her loathing of such facile advice she had, on a few occasions, made herself accept the dates that had been set up for her. From the outset each one had been a disaster. It was like suddenly finding herself in a foreign land where she knew neither the language nor the customs, where the people around her had no time or interest in her difficulties and every attempt she made to adjust seemed only to intensify the longing to go back. But it couldn’t go on that way, she had to let go of the past and somehow make herself believe that it was possible to go on living without him.

  Hearing a noise outside on the veranda, she turned towards the french windows, her hand instinctively moving to the knot in the towel. Sunlight was pooling on the mesh-covered panes making it impossible for her to see out, but noticing that one of the doors was slightly ajar she tiptoed forward, aware now of a peculiarly rhythmic creaking sound.

  She drew back sharply as a shadow crossed the doorway. Though her heart was thudding she realized she was more curious than afraid and stepping quietly up to the windows she pressed herself into the folds of the curtains and peered out.

  From where she was standing she could see the old wooden chair still swaying on it rockers. The creaking had stopped now and the shadow had moved from the doorway, but she was certain someone was still there. She allowed several seconds to tick by, then lifted the flimsy gauze curtain and looked out at the sleepy, sun-drenched afternoon.

  Andy was standing at the edge of the veranda, his back turned to the chalet as he quietly smoked a cigarette. Lizzy’s heart instantly contracted and she was on the point of drawing back into the shadows when, seeming to sense she was there, he turned round.

  ‘You’re awake,’ he said, meeting her eyes through the window.

  ‘So it would seem,’ she responded, pulling the door open and folding her arms as she leaned against the frame.

  A few seconds passed before either of them spoke again.

  ‘Is there something I can do for you?’ she enquired.

  Pursing his lips at one corner, he looked away through the trees, appearing to contemplate his answer. ‘Look,’ he said, finally turning back to her, ‘we both know this isn’t going anywhere between us, but I don’t want to fall out with you and it seems to me that we’re heading that way.’

  Lizzy merely looked at him, aware of a distant anger rising inside her.

  He glanced away again, digging his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘I reckon’, he said, avoiding her eyes, ‘that I owe you an apology for this morning. When I said that you wouldn’t want to know what I was thinking, what I meant was . . . Well, what I meant was that you wouldn’t want to hear . . .’

  ‘Don’t bother to lie,’ Lizzy cut in.

  His eyes widened in surprise as he brought them back to hers. Then suddenly his face was drawn with anger. ‘What the fuck is it with you?’ he demanded. ‘I’m trying to tell you . . .’

  ‘What is it with me?’ she laughed in disbelief.

  ‘Yes, you! You had your fun last night, you got what you came here for, so what the fuck’s all this about?’

  Lizzy started to speak, but he cut her off.

  ‘You’re all the same, you women who come here expecting to get laid. Well, you got yourself laid, didn’t you? So what’s the problem? More than you expected, was it? Better than you expected? Or is it that you want more? There are plenty of other guys about the camp, I’m sure they’d be only too willing to oblige . . . But me, don’t expect me to carry on playing your game like I was some kind of fuckwit who doesn’t know his prick from his principles because I don’t have time for all that shit.’

  Lizzy’s eyes were wide with shock, her heart was racing, but despite the hurt and anger she felt the fight start to drain out of her. He wasn’t worth it. He simply wasn’t worth the effort of getting herself all worked up over when in reality he couldn’t matter less. ‘Please, just go away and leave me alone,’ she said quietly.

  As she turned back inside, not even bothering to close the door, she could hear his footsteps on the veranda and sinking down on the edge of the bed she buried her face in her hands. ‘Richard,’ she whispered brokenly as the tears trickled through her fingers. ‘Oh God, Richard.’

  ‘Lizzy?’

  Starting, she turned to see Andy standing at the door. ‘I thought you’d gone,’ she said through her teeth.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said gruffly.

  Lowering her eyes she began slowly to shake her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she told him, wiping the back of her hand over her cheek.

  He stood there, looking as awkward as a teenager. ‘Do you think we could start this again?’ he said finally.

  Her voice was scratchy and faint as she said, ‘Is there any point?’

  Several more seconds ticked by until drawing a hand nervously over his chin he said, ‘I know this is going to sound crazy, but . . . Well, you know a guy gets tired of being a “sex god”, of serving up the screaming orgasms and laying it on for the punters. But it seemed that was what you wanted and I’ve got to admit that in your case it was no hardship. I mean, the punters don’t often come like you, in fact most of the time you wish they hadn’t come at all . . .’

  When he stopped Lizzy turned to look at him.

  ‘Oh hell, I’m no good at this sort of thing,’ he said impatiently. ‘What I’m saying is that I don’t see any point in either of us pretending.’

  ‘Pretending?’ she repeated.

  He took a breath, then suddenly realizing he didn’t know what he wanted to say he turned his eyes to the ceiling. ‘How the fuck did I get myself into this?’ he muttered.

  ‘No one’s forcing you to stay,’ she reminded him.

  ‘No, that’s right,’ he said. ‘Just like no one forced you to turn a three last night. Fuck,’ he seethed, screwing up his eyes. ‘Nothing I say is coming out right.’

  ‘Then what are you
trying to say?’

  Bringing his eyes back to hers he grimaced, then taking another breath he started again. ‘What I’m trying to say’, he said, ‘is that in a lot of ways I’m glad we did what we did last night, but I don’t want to do it again.’

  ‘Meaning you think I do?’ she responded tightly. ‘Well, for your information, it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever turned a three, as you so charmingly put it, and while I won’t deny I enjoyed it I have absolutely no intention of repeating it. Perhaps you could pass that on to your brother.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll tell him,’ he said. ‘And what about me, or do I get the elbow too? Now that you’ve got what you wanted? Or do you reckon you can bring yourself to stretch it out until you leave?’

  Sliding a hand into her hair, Lizzy shook her head, trying to clear it. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘either I’m being a bit slow here or you’re about as consistent as God. I thought you were telling me that we weren’t going anywhere, or more to the point, that you didn’t want to sleep with me again?’

  ‘Sure I want to sleep with you, I just don’t want to share you with my brother again and I don’t want either of us to pretend that there’s a future in this when we both know there isn’t.’

  Lizzy turned away, totally at a loss. ‘Can you remind me’, she said eventually, ‘at what point I told you I thought there was a future for us, because it seems to be escaping me right now.’

  ‘Women always think there’s a future,’ he replied.

  Giving herself a moment to resist the urge to bounce his ego off the walls she said, ‘You mean that you seriously believe I am considering giving up my home, my career, my family, my friends, not to mention my country, to come and shack up with you here, in the depths of Africa . . .’ She stopped as to her amazement she realized his eyes were dancing with laughter.