Thank goodness they were back on Gorda! Shivonne felt much more comfortable here in the house. And certainly far more comfortable without the oppressive presence of her employer's girlfriend.
But there was to be another visitor, and Shivonne was soon to discover why Kurt had wanted someone from her part of the world.
'My mother's coming to stay with me for a while, Shivonne,' he informed her only three days after the Mohawk had come home to its own jetty. 'She's part English and has been staying with some relatives of ours for a year.'
'But she lives here, on Gorda, with you?' As soon as she spoke Shivonne realised her mistake. And she coloured when Kurt said with a trace of impatience,
'I've just said she's coming to stay here with me for a while.' No need to add more, that if she lived on Gorda then she'd hardly be staying at her son's home. Shivonne said nothing and her employer added, 'She lives on Grand Cayman Island.'
'Alone-?' Shivonne stopped abruptly, her colour mounting as she saw the hard eyes narrow. 'I'm sorry-Mr. Drayton. I didn't mean to b-be curious.'
'Mother's a widow,' he proffered and, turning, walked away but saying over his shoulder, 'Mother always has the pink room.'
Shivonne asked the butler what Mrs. Drayton was like.
John Baptiste was his name and he was black. A huge man with gleaming skin and an air of confidence almost equal to that of his employer. But he had shown a liking for Shivonne who always felt comfortable in his company. His wife came in daily and with this extra money they were able to send both their children to a university in England.
'You will like her,' was his reassuring prediction in answer to Shivonne's query. 'But she's not in perfect health-'
'She's ill?' Shivonne registered surprise. 'Mr. Drayton didn't mention anything about that.'
John shook his head.
'Not ill but deformed. Naturally Mr. Drayton doesn't like to mention it to anyone.'
'Yet I'd very soon have found out.' Shivonne paused a moment and then, 'What is wrong with her?' She was thinking of the perfection of Kurt, perfection both physical and in his air of good breeding.
'She limps. She's had all the medical help possible over the years but nothing can be done even in this miracle age.' His voice carried a note of sadness and Shivonne's heart warmed to him. 'She looks-' He stopped and frowned, then rephrased his sentence. 'The way she walks makes her seem very awkward.'
Shivonne was silent, looking at him. 'She looks ugly.' Was that what John was about to say?
'Ungainly' was the word coming instantly to mind when Shivonne met Kurt's mother-ungainly in the way she walked, which seemed to hunch up one shoulder slightly, and drop the other.
Tall, she would have been had she been able to straighten up. As it was, she was about Shivonne's height, her back being a little humped. But she had a most attractive way with her which impressed Shivonne at once and within a day she seemed able to draw out from the shell into which she had crept on first coming here, to this luxurious house where she had instantly felt inadequate and inferior.
'I'm so happy with you, my dear,' she told Shivonne. 'Kurt wants me to live here permanently and you are the bait, as it were. He's been wondering how he could persuade me to sell up and make my permanent home with him. He hit on the idea of getting a companion for me from England, just to make me feel at home.' The tinkling laugh seemed so right coming from lips that were wide and generous and, somehow, still youthful. 'How did he come to engage an Irish girl?'
Shivonne explained, and during the explanation all came out, poured forth in a flood of confidential narrative to which Mrs. Drayton listened with a keen interest and a motherly understanding. Shivonne ended with a question.
'Mr. Drayton advertised for a housemaid, not a companion. Am I to be your companion while you're here?'
'I guess that's his idea,' nodded Mrs. Drayton. And then she added, puzzled, 'I don't know why he should have advertised for a housemaid….' Shivonne sent Mrs. Drayton an inquiring look as her voice trailed away to silence. Mrs. Drayton added then, without a trace of embarrassment, 'Yes, I understand, dear. If he'd advertised for a companion he would have had to say it was for a cripple, and my son would hate that. So now you know why he asked for a housemaid.'
'Don't use that word,' protested Shivonne having at first wanted to interrupt and shout the protest. 'You're not-not-'
'But I am, dear,' corrected the older woman gently. 'You can't hide things, or give them different names and descriptions from what they really are. I have no regrets about my deformity. I married a lovely man and mothered a great son and daughter-'
'You have a daughter?'
'Marguerite. She's married to a Caymanian. You see, we lived there and I still have my house there. My husband owned vast lands on Grand Cayman, and in fact I still do own much land there. The two children were brought up there but Kurt had visited Gorda and was enchanted with it. It is totally unspoiled as you must already have seen. He had this house built-a truly delightful place you must agree.'
She nodded and smiled.
'And large enough for you to make your home here, Mrs. Drayton,' she observed persuasively.
'Yes,' with a sigh and a faraway look in her wide brown eyes. 'But…'
'Yes?' Shivonne somehow knew what response she would get to this.
'I first have to see what kind of a daughter-in-law I'm getting.'
Not quite what Shivonne had mentally predicted as an answer, but then Mrs. Drayton would hardly mention Lisa… and say she did not like her. Shivonne scanned her expression and thought: yes, she doesn't like Lisa and for that reason refuses to come and live here while ever there's a possibility of Lisa's becoming her daughter-in-law.
Before Shivonne could find anything to say Kurt had come into the sitting-room where he stood just inside the door for a moment, dark eyes moving from one to the other, a most odd expression on his handsome face. He was in perfectly-cut white linen slacks topped by an overshirt of finest cotton, also white so that the contrast with his Arab-dark skin was both startling and inordinately attractive. Shivonne became aware of a most disturbing and unfathomable sensation she had never experienced in her life before. Her heartbeats seemed erratic-not in the same rather scared way they increased whenever she was summoned to her employer's presence, but in a way different altogether. Her pulse was affected too, and something savouring of both pleasure and anxiety affected her mind, an intangible thing she could never have grasped no matter how hard she tried. The sensation stayed until Kurt left the room after chatting with his mother for about five minutes. Shivonne had risen to leave the room but a wave of an imperious hand had kept her where she was, in a chair facing the high wide window through which the bright sun was streaming. She had noticed that several times Kurt's dark eyes had settled on her face, and that once they had roved over her body, causing her to blush because there was a distinct interest in their depths as they rested momentarily on her firm high breasts. She remembered that Brian had remarked to Richard, in her presence, that 'the boss would have to lay off the girl-friends once he was married to Lisa.' That he was so attractive as to be able to have any female he wanted seemed obvious to Shivonne, and she was not so innocent that she had any doubts about his being something of a womaniser-No, not that! She didn't like the idea at all! He was no worse than any other single man who must sow his wild oats, she decided.
'Tell me, dear,' she heard Mrs. Drayton say after the door closed on her son's impressive figure, 'what do you think of Kurt?'
Startled by this unexpected question Shivonne felt the colour rise in her cheeks.
'I don't know,' she began when her companion interrupted her.
'Certainly you do, Shivonne. Every woman forms some kind of opinion of him and I'm sure you are no different from the rest. He's attractive, eh?'
'Very,' was Shivonne's brief and spontaneous rejoinder.
'Too attractive altogether. No man should be able to draw women as he does.' She sounded faintly angry, thought Shivonne in some surprise. 'It gives a man a big head, an inflated ego-to be able to attract any woman he wants. It would do Kurt the world of good if he found some female who was hard to get, who didn't fall for his good looks and that superlative body of his.'
Shivonne found herself laughing.
'You'd not have him any different, though, Mrs. Drayton.'
It was the other woman's turn to laugh.
'No, I admit I'm proud of my son. I'm the envy of other mothers and always have been.' She paused a moment in thought. 'I wish, though, that he'd find someone nice and settle down. I've a desire both to see him settled and to have grandchildren on my knee.'
'A reasonable desire,' agreed Shivonne and thought that any children produced by Kurt would make her as proud a grandmother as she had been a mother. But Lisa… Her character was so unlikeable, so what effect would her genes have on Kurt's children? Glancing at her companion, sitting rather hunched in her chair, Shivonne knew instinctively that Mrs. Drayton's thoughts were running on exactly the same lines as her own.
***
It wasn't until a week later that Kurt told Shivonne she was to be his mother's companion.
'I suppose,' he added in some amusement, 'that you're thinking it unnecessary that I should tell you, seeing that you've been with Mother all the time she's been here.'
'Yes… I enjoy her company very much,' she responded shyly.
'The reason I have given you this other post is in fact that you and Mother appear to have taken to one another-' He stopped at her expression. 'You believe I engaged you as a potential companion for my mother in the first place?'
She stared at him in surprise for she would never have expected this kind of frankness from the austere and formidable Kurt Drayton. She said after a pause,
'It was your mother who reached that conclusion. She explained that you have been wanting her to live with you and so you decided to tempt her-er-to persuade her to come by getting a companion from my part of the world.'
He was smiling enigmatically and she rather thought her use of the word 'tempt' had amused him. He seemed different, more human and approachable and something warm and pleasant assailed Shivonne's senses.
'It is true that I want her with me,' he admitted in that attractive lilting voice of his. He went on to explain that his sister and her husband were soon to move to America. 'Mother has many friends on Grand Cayman, though,' he added, 'so she does require some form of persuasion.' Pausing, he looked down into her face and for a tense moment there seemed to be a current of electricity in the atmosphere around them. It was a profound interlude where the silence was so complete that even the birdsong outside was hushed. Shivonne brought her long curling lashes down, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. 'There will of course be an increase in your salary,' said Kurt and the breaking of the silence was as startling as the firing of a shotgun. His tone was abrupt and cold, his eyes metallic and his brow was creased in a frown.
'I don't need any more money,' she began to protest when an imperious lift of his hand silenced her.
'I want you to do all you can to make Mother happy here,' he said and now his voice was almost sternly dictatorial. 'I'm very anxious indeed that she comes to live with me permanently.'
'But-when you are married-' Shivonne cut off the sentence swiftly but the words were already voiced.
'Mother has been saying something about Miss Templar?' Kurt's expression was curious.
'Not exactly. She merely said she wouldn't come to live here until she knew what her daughter-in-law was going to be like.' Shivonne did not think for a moment that Mrs. Drayton would mind her talking to her son like this, in fact, she had probably talked to him in this vein herself already.
Kurt gave a small sigh and changed the subject.
'Do you drive a car, Shivonne?'
'I've had some lessons, but Father-well, he met someone and the lessons stopped. My boyfriend was going to continue teaching me but-but…' Her voice faltered and to her dismay tears gathered in her eyes, brightening them. Kurt stared hard at her as if endeavouring to read her thoughts. The eyes flickered, then moved to rove her entire body from head to shapely ankles above strapped sandals that revealed dainty toes, pink-tipped.
'I shall take you out to see how far you have progressed,' he decided, again startling her by the change in his manner towards her. He was plainly very anxious that she should stay and be company for his mother; and she recalled his hearing her exclamation about having to leave. Was he troubled that she might decide to leave? Could be, was her conclusion, and that was why he had begun to unbend in his manner towards her. She did not at all take to the idea of his sitting beside her in the car and making an assessment on how capable she was.
'I could go to a driving school,' she suggested but he shook his head.
'I'll take you out first. You might not need any more tuition.'
And true to his word he took her out the very next morning. Naturally nervous, she drove gingerly and slowly along the long narrow lane leading down to the shore. The lane was winding because it climbed a hill and she swerved a couple of times.
'I'm sorry….' She was awkward with the strange car; it was big and the wheel was on the wrong side because although driving on all the Virgin Islands was on the left, the cars, coming in from America, were designed for driving on the right. 'I think I was awful,' she said self-deprecatingly when at length she stopped at the end of a very rough lane he had guided her to.
'Not too bad at all,' was his surprising concession and a warmth diffused itself over her entire body even before he added in a tone of unmistakable friendliness, 'I've stopped here because I'd like to take you down the beach. You haven't been seeing anything of the island, have you?'
She shook her head, vitally aware of his courtesy in coming round to her side of the car in order to open the door for her. This was the treatment he afforded Lisa… not, surely, the way he would normally treat a servant. Shivonne knew instinctively that his every act was designed with an ulterior motive as the spur: he was very anxious indeed for her to remain in his employ-as companion to his mother.
'Is this what they call the Park?' she was asking as he closed the car door. 'John was telling me about it and saying I ought to see it.'
'Yes, this is the Park.' He went ahead along a stony pathway where other hazards included the roots of trees visible all the time above ground. 'Take care,' warned Kurt turning his dark head to see how she was progressing. 'You could easily strain your ankle.'
'Very easily,' she agreed wryly, already having given one ankle a painful twist. But eventually they had treaded their way over the small boulders and roots, along the path where jungle-like vegetation occupied all the land on both sides, sometimes dense but at other times the sea was visible as the thicker undergrowth gave way to waving palms and other slender trees. The sky above was sapphire blue with only the wispy lace of fair-weather cirrus clouds gliding slowly, sending shadows on to the smooth glass-like surface of the sea.
'This is lovely!' All sense of inferiority and all shyness dissolved in the beauty of the spectacle as, coming out of the path, she beheld a scene that took her breath away. Giant boulders were tumbled along the beach, causing the water to swirl its way through the labyrinth so that many small pools were formed. The beach was deserted-at least, that part to which Kurt had brought her was deserted and she wished she were alone and had her swim suit with her. The water spreading away from the shore was an incredibly beautiful colour of blue-green dappled with aquamarine and gold, with silver and with diamonds, all stolen from the sun. In places the water pounded against the gigantic boulders, and within feet tall palm trees waved their spidery fronds against the brittle blue of the Caribbean sky.
'It's like… paradise,' breathed Shivonne not realising she spoke the words aloud. 'Could heaven possibly excel this!'
Kurt moved closer to her side and she was suddenly alive to the maleness of him, the powerful magnetism which sent ripples along her spine. His hand touched her fingers; she did not move and without warning his hand closed upon hers. He was human all at once, very human and very masculine.
'Come,' he urged by way of excuse at taking her hand-well, she felt sure it was by way of an excuse. 'I'll show you another, prettier pool where you can come and swim one day. It can be lonely so let me know in good time and I'll come with you.'
'Come with me-you!' She shook her head in disbelief. How much further was he prepared to unbend in order to keep her in his employ? She was sure that all this resulted from his overhearing her saying to herself that she must leave.
'Is it so strange?'
'You're my employer, Mr. Drayton,' she reminded him and he laughed.
'My mother's your employer now,' he said.
'But you will be paying me my salary.'
He ignored that as he guided her carefully be tween the massive rocks to what he called the Baths. Here again she gasped at the beauty surrounding her… and because she wasn't thinking about anything else her fingers tightened around his, unconsciously.
'It's beyond description,' she breathed. 'Oh, but it's no wonder you wanted to build a house on this island!'
'So many islands are geared these days to tourism,' he said and there was a hint of regret in his tone. 'When I first came here as a young child I knew I'd live here one day.' His hand enclosed hers as he led her along the beach, among the palms and rocks, the scene rustic and surely just as Christopher Columbus had first sighted it. What a time he must have had!-discovering one island after another in his explorations of a world until then unknown to man.
'There are dozens of these channels,' observed Shivonne, vitally conscious now of the contact of his flesh with hers. He seemed in no hurry to free her even though they were now on the soft white sand looking out to the clear smooth line of the horizon. Shivonne could feel the warmth of his clasp, the faint dampness being created by the heat of the atmosphere around them. A sensation of breathlessness pervaded her, in turn creating a feeling of excitement and expectation, and of unreality. Kurt was no longer her formidable employer… but just the handsome escort who had voluntarily brought her here to take a glimpse at paradise. A dry constriction affected her throat and she tried to swallow; within her the breathlessness increased and her pulses began to race. But it was not only her body responding to the magic; her mind, too, seemed to be affected, with thoughts difficult to marshal, with the mind receiving vibrations from the body and making clear thought even more impossible. She felt unwanted colour infuse her cheeks, and she swallowed again, trying to ease the roughness of her throat. Kurt looked down at her, smiling in some amusement at her heightened colour. She brought down her lashes, quite unaware of the allure of the action, unaware of the desire of this man to kiss her, to stop the tremulous quivering of her lips. He said gently,
'Tell me about your boyfriend. You quarrelled?'
'He found someone more attractive,' she answered simply and heard him give a little ejaculation of disbelief.
'He… did?' slowly and curiously as he continued to hold her eyes to his.
'We'd known each other since childhood,' offered Shivonne huskily.
'Ah… Far too long,' he said.
'Not at all. Some people marry others they've known all their lives.'
'You wanted to marry him?'
'I always believed we'd marry one day.'
'If he had loved you,' pointed out Kurt gently, 'he'd have married you as soon as you were old enough.'
She shook her head.
'It's only recently that he's managed to get a well-paid job.'
'I see,' thoughtfully. 'So as soon as his position's secure he off and finds another girl.'
'Don't!' she cried and would have snatched her hand away if he had allowed her to. 'It-it hurts!-here!' She pressed a clenched fist to her heart and tears brightened her eyes. 'It was because of him that I decided to come away-well,' she amended, incurably truthful, 'partly him. You see, my father married again-My mother died some years ago. I couldn't get along with my stepmother.'
'So you were driven to running away?'
She nodded her head; her hair swayed, gleaming in the sunlight. She saw her companion's eyes flicker with a strange light, saw him swallow and then look away, out to sea where a graceful white cruise liner sailed towards Tortola.
'I thought it best for me to leave home.'
'But then you regretted it, didn't you?'
'I felt lonely and decided to leave here.'
'I heard you talking to yourself.' He paused, returning his attention to her. 'Now, though-you aren't so lonely, or homesick?' He sounded just a trifle anxious, she thought, as he awaited her reply. She offered him a lovely winning smile, the kind only an Irish colleen can give.
'No, I'm not lonely now, Mr. Drayton. I'm very happy being companion to your mother and I only hope she'll stay at Casuarina Mount for a long time.'
'I hope so too,' was his swift rejoinder. And he added rather pointedly, 'It will depend on you. Shivonne; remember that.'
She very much suspected it would depend on whether or not Kurt became engaged to Lisa but of course she kept that idea to herself, merely saying,
'I'll do my best, Mr. Drayton, to keep her with us-you.'
'Yes, I'm sure you will, Shivonne.' He glanced at his watch. 'We'd better be getting back. I've some work to do as soon as lunch is over.'
He had previously said he wanted lunch half an hour early and so he was hurrying as they made their way back along the stony path. Shivonne, unwilling to leave too great a space between them lest he became impatient at having to stop and wait for her, skipped a little and even tried to run. He turned at her sudden cry of pain and strode back.
'What is it?'
'My ankle-oh, but it-it hurts!'
'Sit down,' he ordered and she was glad to obey even though she was troubled by the loss of time. 'Let me take a look.' His head was bent as he went down on one knee; with a shock of amazement Shivonne realised she would have loved to touch his dark hair, to run her fingers through it! The thought naturally brought colour flooding into her cheeks and it was at that moment that he chose to look up. Something like tension filled the air, and before either of them knew it their lips had met, brushing together at first and then the injured ankle was forgotten by both as Kurt brought her up and took her body to his, crushing the tender flesh, flattening her breasts against the muscled hardness of his chest.
'Oh….' she breathed when for a second her mouth was free. 'Mr. Drayton-' The rest was smothered as his sensuous lips found hers again, possessing them as if he were her complete master and overlord. There was arrogance and a sort of domination in the way he crushed her to him. She could not but reciprocate for his magnetism was more than she could resist. Vaguely she wondered how many other women had been conquered like this, had had every vestige of resistance plundered from them by this man's devastating male power of seduction. She clung; she gave him her lips and parted them, sheer ecstasy rippling through her as she felt his long slender hands roving, stroking her thighs, sliding lower and around, shaping themselves to contours which enabled him to bring her even closer in intimacy so that she was excitedly aware of his maleness, his virility and his need. Rhythm set their bodies moving in harmony; Kurt took one firm, delectable breast in his hand, fingers loosely caressing the nipple until he felt her body shudder against him as with triumphant finesse he brought the little bud erect. The blouse she wore had a thin white plastic zipper down the front and it was soon brought right down to her waist.
'Oh….' she murmured again, this time protestingly, 'you can't-'
'But I have,' he soon corrected before his mouth touched the place where his fingers had been. She quivered against him, weak with longing, alive to the ache of desire in her loins. She felt Kurt's teeth gently biting before his sensuous mouth widened to wander moistly all over her breasts. A little moan escaped her; she almost asked him-no, pleaded with him-to take her, to make love to her, here beside the lane where the grass was long and warm from the sun, where everything was as primitive as it was at the beginning of time.
'How could this boyfriend leave you for another?' Kurt's voice was husky against her throat, his breath cool and clean but accentuating the male odour of him which was assailing her nostrils all the time. She was becoming weaker with every second that passed, for the whipcord hardness of his body was overpowering her and she felt she would lose her senses before very long. Her mouth and body were bruised when at last Kurt freed her, though he still held her by the arms, supporting her, while his dark metallic gaze fixed hers with an unfathomable expression in their narrowed depths. 'This ankle-' he broke off, smiling wryly. 'You're a temptress, Shivonne,' he said and the accusation was also an admonishment that took all the feeling of happiness from her, leaving her drained and spent and vitally aware that she should have fought him off, evaded that scene, for it had meant nothing to him at all-why should it? He had wanted to kiss her, to caress her, and he had succumbed to the dictates of primitive desire, taking her with him as captive. Shame and regret brought the blood surging into her cheeks and all at once Kurt was touching her face, frowning with regret, appearing ready to apologise. She couldn't bear that! What was done was done and as much her fault as his. She spoke swiftly, to say the ankle was not hurting any more and he accepted this. But once in the car she winced on placing her foot on the pedal and Kurt was swift to realise her pain. So he drove back to the house and assisted her inside. His mother was in the hall, having been setting flowers in a vase. Concern drew her face as she looked at her son.
'What happened to Shivonne?' she wanted to know, almost glowering as if it were all his fault.
'I sprained my ankle,' supplied Shivonne before he could speak, 'and couldn't drive the car back.' She felt embarrassed, unable to meet the older woman's gaze. Mrs. Drayton looked narrowly at her son.
'Couldn't drive back from where?' she demanded, her eyes never straying from his.
'I took Shivonne to the Park and the Baths,' he supplied and his mother's brows lifted. Shivonne limped over to a settle and sat down.
'Were there many people there?' Mrs. Drayton's voice held an odd inflection, and it did seem to be a little harsh, thought Shivonne, who had the impression that Mrs. Drayton did not trust Kurt in a deserted place alone with Shivonne!
'What you really mean is,' corrected Kurt with an edge of satirical amusement to his voice, 'was there anyone at all there.'
His mother nodded, her eyes moving thoughtfully to the girl on the settle.
'Was there?' she inquired briefly.
Shivonne found her colour increasing as she listened to this interchange between mother and son.
'No one but us,' supplied Kurt in that same satirical tone. 'There was no tourist cruise ship in so no intruders came on to the lovely beaches.'
A silence followed before his mother said, her voice rather brisk now,
'Well, we'll have to get the doctor to the child, I guess.' And she limped away to telephone from the small cosy room called the den. Shivonne called after her,
'I don't need the doctor, Mrs. Drayton, really I don't.'
'I agree,' put in Kurt. 'There's no real injury that a few hours' rest won't put right.' He spoke with confidence and Shivonne knew he would not have neglected to send for the doctor had there been any real need for one.
'Are you sure?' His mother was still a little anxious as she stopped and turned to look at Shivonne who had now risen to her feet.
'Quite sure,' she smiled. 'It was nothing to make a fuss about in the first place.'
Mrs. Drayton shrugged and said resignedly,
'Very well, dear. But if the pain doesn't go completely within the next couple of hours I'll fetch the doctor, and no amount of argument will stop me.'
