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‘I’m fine. A little bit of concussion, I suspect—all I can remember is going out like a light and then nothing until I woke up this morning…’
‘Nothing?’
Lisa stared at him. Was he teasing her?—but no, he was perfectly serious.
She took a deep breath, laughter bubbling up inside her. ‘You mean you don’t remember anything?’
He shrugged, heading for the door. ‘No. Thanks for getting me down to my cabin, by the way—that couldn’t have been easy. Nor undressing me. God knows what would have happened to me if you hadn’t been there. I want to get back as fast as we can—Father will be worried.’
Now wasn’t the time to discuss what had happened between them last night, and Lisa suppressed a chuckle, imagining how she would tease him later about not being able to remember their lovemaking. Concussion had strange effects on people, she knew that, and she ought perhaps to have realised the potential danger of Rorke suffering from it last night, but she had been so relieved that his injuries weren’t any worse that it hadn’t occurred to her.
‘Breakfast in fifteen minutes,’ Rorke warned her, ‘and don’t come on deck before—I’m going for a swim.’
What would he say if she told him that there was no need for her to stay below, that she already knew his body—intimately!
Three hours later the island was in view. There had been scant opportunity for any conversation. In fact Rorke seemed curiously tense, and once or twice Lisa had found him watching her silently.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked hesitantly when she saw him watching her for a third time, a curiously intent expression in his eyes. ‘Have you changed your mind about—about us?’
‘No, God help me,’ he told her softly. ‘I ought to—you’re far too young to be tied down in marriage, yet, Lisa, but it’s either that or make love to you anyway, and I can’t see Leigh approving of that, can you?’ he asked wryly.
‘You want me very much?’
‘More than you can imagine.’ he told her succinctly. ‘And desire is notorious for clouding men’s minds. I ought to have sent you packing the moment I knew how I felt about you, but by then it was already too late…’
She took a step towards him, hoping that he would kiss her, but he had already turned away and was concentrating on bringing the schooner into the channel through the coral.
* * *
The telephone ringing woke her. She struggled downstairs to answer it, smothering a faint sigh as she recognised her agent’s voice.
‘Bowry’s want those illustrations for the new children’s series earlier than planned. How are they coming along?’
‘Quite well,’ she reassured him, ‘but how early is “earlier”?’
‘Well, I thought I’d take what you’ve done to show them—they went wild over that first one you did on spec.’
‘Well, I’m about halfway through,’ Lisa began slowly. ‘Well ahead of schedule—mainly because I’d planned to give myself a week off when Robbie has his half term.’ Her work was a special and private joy, partially because it enabled her to earn her own living at home, and partially because she was doing something she particularly enjoyed. When she had left home her sense of self-worth had been so low; but gradually over the months and years her self-confidence both in herself and her ability had grown. She was not under any illusions about her talent; she was never going to make the Royal Academy, but she did have enough ability to make a small name for herself and support herself and her child.
‘Look, I’ll come round and collect what you’ve done so far,’ Greg suggested.
Lisa agreed, putting down the phone with a faint sigh when they had finished. Greg wouldn’t be too pleased to hear what Rorke wanted her to do. She could complete her existing contract, but what would happen after that? She had a little money put by, but it wouldn’t last her very long if she was forced to live on it. And yet if she refused to go; if she never saw Leigh again…
All morning her common sense battled with her emotions. Leigh who had stood as father to her needed her, but if she went to him she stood to lose so much; her independence not least of all.
She was still racked with indecision when Greg arrived. He gave her his usual perfunctory peck on the cheek as she let him in. Lisa smiled warmly at him. In addition to being her agent, Greg was one of her closest friends. She had met him just after Robbie’s birth and although he had never said so, Lisa knew that he believed Robbie to be the result of a brief and unhappy teenage affair. He had helped her tremendously with her work, encouraging her to persevere and eventually getting her the commissions that enabled her to work from home.
He was in his late thirties, divorced and very much a man about town. Lisa would have been blind not to notice the look in his kind brown eyes whenever they rested on her. She often wondered ironically why she was destined to attract such gentle, kind men and yet to love a far different type; a type personified by Rorke with all his inbuilt arrogance, his intense masculinity, and worst of all his wilful blindness.
‘Mmm, these are very good, Lisa,’ he pronounced when he had finished examining the work she had done so far. ‘The best to date, I think—the expressions you’ve managed to put into these faces!’ He indicated a group of small woodland creatures Lisa had sketched. ‘I’m sure they’re going to be delighted with them, Lisa, and I’ve got some good news—well, it could be good news. They’ve dropped a hint that they’re looking for an artist for a new series they intend to bring out—another range of children’s books, and you’re a serious contender for the illustrations. They’re set in Scotland—the Highlands, so you could well get a free holiday thrown in so that you can get yourself some atmosphere. I should know definitely by next week, and I’m sure these,’ he waved the folio of sketches, ‘will clinch it!’
‘Greg—Lisa bit her lip, pondering the best way to break the news to him, and it was only as she searched for the right words that she realised that without admitting it, subconsciously her mind was already made up—it had to be, otherwise she would not be wondering how to tell Greg that she wouldn’t be going to Scotland—at least not in the immediate future.
‘Lisa, is something wrong?’
She was just about to tell him when the doorbell rang.
