A Marriage in the Making
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Natalie Fox
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CHAPTER ONE
KARIS watched with interest as the Estrella slid smoothly alongside the jetty, the oily throb of its engines barely audible over the swish of surf on the white sands of Fiesta’s private tropical island.
In the shade and the leafy seclusion of a banyan tree on the edge of the beach, unobserved by anyone on board, Karis gently readjusted baby Tara on her hip as the vacationers started to alight from the yacht.
There were the usual this week: several middle-aged, portly gentlemen in Bermuda shorts with beautiful golden-skinned blondes sashaying along the wooden jetty after them. The more leggy and beautiful the blonde, the richer the portly gentleman, it appeared.
Karis watched them come ashore with a soft smile of amusement on her full lips. There had been a time when she had found it unbearable to watch the disembarking ritual, almost despising those people for coming here to enjoy themselves. They were usually couples and, however ill matched some might appear, they were nevertheless together, which made her feel her own loss so deeply.
It had got easier over the months, though, and now she could watch with amusement instead of envy and irritation. She might not have a partner of her own any more but she had something those leggy blondes hadn’t. She had the love of two adorable children, a certain measure of contentment in her life now and Josh had helped her regain her self-worth, which she hadn’t possessed when she had arrived a year ago.
And Josh—where was he? Karis turned to see him happily engaged in trying to entice a land crab out from under a clump of cactus a little way along the deserted beach, so Karis didn’t feel guilty for giving the last two passengers left on deck a little more of her curious attention.
He was gorgeous—neither middle-aged nor portly but obviously affluent judging by the cut of his white linen trousers and midnight-blue silk shirt He was tall, with glossy black hair and dark, broody good looks, and Karis gazed at him in awe for a few seconds and then shifted her dark eyes to the lady with him. She was gorgeous too, as would be expected. Her hair was reddy gold and her flowing silk print outfit was lovely and Karis had to admit she looked rather more intelligent than the usual females who came to the island for fun and sun.
Beautiful people the couple might appear but, alas, beautiful people they didn’t sound to Karis, who was totally mesmerised by the charismatic stranger who was speaking now in such a controlled manner to his companion.
‘Leave the luggage, Simone,’ he ordered firmly. ‘There are staff to take care of it and nothing can get lost.’
‘I’m not taking any chances,’ came back the determined reply—a cutting remark which, to his credit, her companion ignored.
The man, with his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, stood with his hands gripping the curving rail of the yacht, his jaw set as if in stone, and Karis guessed he was determinedly controlling his impatience and temper. He waited, silently, broodingly, while his companion curtly instructed one of the crew to haul her bags out from under the rest of the luggage now and to take it up to the plantation house and deposit it in her suite and nowhere else.
‘Honey child,’ drawled the good-humoured West Indian, ‘I crew this yacht and that’s as far as my duties go. You wanna packhorse you—’
‘Packhorse at your service, ma’am,’ came the cry from Leroy, one of Fiesta’s houseboys, as he ran barefoot along the jetty to greet them.
Karis pressed two fingers firmly over her lips to stifle her amusement as she watched the spectacle of Leroy charming and disarming the irascible red-gold lady with his open, honest grin of welcome and his willingness to obey her any command at a moment’s notice.
The impressive-looking man with her didn’t appear to notice what was going on, the taming of his companion. He was leaning on the rail now, in a world of his own, gazing at the small tropical island, his jawline still rigidly set, his broad shoulders tense and unyielding under the silk of his shirt as it rippled against him in the rush of a tropical breeze. Karis imagined his eyes to be glacier-blue under cover of his heavy sunglasses, because for all his obvious good looks he appeared a cold sort of person and one not particularly pleased to be here.
Karis remembered her own feelings on approaching the island for the first time, on the very same yacht. Her small fists had gripped the rail the same way and the beauty of the small paradise island, set like a precious jewel in a sea of turquoise satin, had gone unregistered by her as it appeared to be by him now. She hadn’t been able to appreciate its loveliness because of trepidation at the thought of the new life ahead of her. To have had to come this far across the world to free herself of a past that had caused her such pain had quashed all but anxiety from her senses.
The stranger had a similar look about him—as if he lived with regrets and was doubtful that coming here was a good idea—and Karis was intrigued.
But it was all supposition, Karis mused as she watched the two of them, with Leroy following under a mountain of luggage, walk along the jetty to the beach and the garden path that led to the main house of the island. She couldn’t be sure what the stranger was thinking or feeling because she didn’t know him, but it was just the overall impression he gave—one of reluctance and withdrawal and not wanting to be here.
Suddenly Josh’s warm, sandy hand slipped into hers and she gripped it reassuringly and gave him her full attention now. The small boy was watching the visitors too, his dark, dark eyes unreadable. It had been one of her greatest joys when she had first broken through his reserve and been able to read those dark eyes. It had become a frequent occurrence recently but now they were closed off from her.
‘More visitors,’ she told him softly. ‘No children this time, though.’ She gave his hand another reassuring squeeze. The diminutive five-year-old in her care needed the company of other children. She grinned to cover a sigh, not wanting him to pick up on her disappointment. ‘You’ll have to put up with baby Tara for a playmate for a little longer.’
But Tara wasn’t enough for Josh. She was only a tot and not able to communicate with him sensibly. He needed children of his own age and older, not that he mixed all that well when they did come to the island. It usually took him a few days to assess any young visitors tentatively, and by the time they were ready to leave Josh was just about relaxed enough to try and make friends. Most of the time Karis felt he was only making the effort to please her anyway. Josh must have been born a loner, she supposed, but she still encouraged him to socialise whenever she had the opportunity.
So, no children this time. If there had been they would have eventually found their way to Karis’s cottage where they would have been made welcome. ‘Nanny Extraordinaire’, was how Fiesta referred to her in her more charitable moments, but most of the time she treated her with indifference. Karis was the hired help, hired to keep Josh out from under her feet.
And Josh was difficult and moody and unresponsive a lot of the time. Like now, as he stared rigidly at the three people coming up the beach towards the plantation house, the male visitor with his hand gently at the woman’s’ elbow in case she stumbled in the deep sand, neither speaking but Leroy making up for it with a cheerful banter of useful and useless information about the island that was apparently falling on deaf ears.
Karis felt stirrings of something she didn’t want to acknowledge—that old feeling of envy and regret she used to feel when the laughing, loving couples came happily ashore. These two were hardly love’s sweet dream but Karis nevertheless felt a pang or two of envy of the woman with such a heart-wrenching good-looking partner. Cool and aloof he might appear, but he was with her all the same, and courteous and attentive too. They were together, a couple, him and her, here to enjoy a vacation in paradise, and it squeezed at Karis’s heart She had no partner any more, not even one to argue with now and then, and at this moment, for some peculiar reason, she felt her loss more poignantly than usual.
Quickly dismissing such irrational thoughts of envy, Karis stepped forward out of the shade of the banyan, intending to walk along the beach to her cottage with the children. Tara was still asleep against her shoulder and Josh was in need of his siesta, but suddenly the boy’s hand tightened in hers and pulled at her, stopping her dead in her tracks. At the same time he let out a peculiar sound from deep in his throat.
The visitors had reached the gardens at the point where they met the beach, and were only twenty metres or so from them when Josh’s small cry had the man stopping and jerking his head in their direction.
For some reason Karis’s stomach tightened as the others strode on and the man stood stock-still, staring at her with baby Tara on her hip and the small, dark-haired boy, barefoot and brown as a nut as she was, now almost hidden behind her crimson sarong. She felt Josh’s fists clawing into the back of her skirt, twisting the cotton print in his anxious small hands.
The man stared and then slowly his hand came up to strip the sunglasses from his face, and in that moment of revelation Karis knew who he was and the muscles of her stomach clenched ever tighter and her heart thundered perilously.
He said not one word. His eyes didn’t speak either. They weren’t blue at all but a dark, indiscriminate colour that looked as if their hue was gauged by mood. The mood now was cold and hostile as they raked Karis up and down, not settling, not appraising, just coldly grazing over her, making prickles of fear shoot across the surface of her skin.
Josh was stiff behind her, still clutching her skirt, and then Karis felt a tremble shudder through his slim little body. Without taking her green eyes from the stranger, she quickly moved her hand behind her to caress the boy’s bare head tenderly and reassure him he was safe with her.
A slight look of puzzlement chased across the man’s eyes and then they narrowed, and the look chilled Karis to the bone. Disapproval entered the eyes then as the gaze once again slid over her skimpy vest-top and the tumble of wild, unkempt jet hair that skimmed her brown shoulders. A soft tropical breeze flattened her skirt against her long legs and she felt the thin cotton clinging to her, outlining her shape and making her feel almost naked under his icy scrutiny. But there was nothing sexual in the way he was looking at her, only a chilling disapproval—which oddly felt worse.
Josh nervously moved then. Karis was aware of his bare feet shifting agitatedly in the sand and then, with another small, throaty whimper, he let go of her skirt and started to run, crashing through the lush vegetation behind them and on towards the cottage.
Karis’s first instinct was to call out to him, but she stemmed the cry in her throat so as not to alarm Tara. Her small daughter stirred in her arms and Karis wrapped her free hand around the back of her head and held her close, soothing the child back to sleep with her fingers stroking her dark, silky hair.
She never took her eyes off the dark stranger because a peculiar thing had happened to the man’s expression. On sight of the defecting child and the sound of his whimper of anguish as he had fled a look of such deep pain had passed over that handsome though rigid face that Karis’s pulses raced in turmoil.
‘Daniel!’
The piercing cry cut through the hot, humid air, jerking Karis’s senses. The stranger didn’t respond, his hard, muscle-bound body didn’t move a centimetre, but then she supposed he wasn’t the sort to jump to such a shrill command from a woman.
Karis stepped back, desperately wanting to break the eye contact between them because it was unnerving her, but it was so hard to do. Curiosity had frozen her at first and then all sorts of emotions had rushed at her and still he stared at her, fixing her to the spot And how he glared now that Josh had fled in such distress. Was he blaming her for the small boy’s terrified reaction? She didn’t know. Deep concern for Josh was what finally broke her eye contact with him. She swung round, turning her back on the man she now knew to be Daniel.
She knew who he was and Josh had known him too and Karis’s heart squeezed painfully. Still balancing the sleeping baby on her hip, she walked straight-backed along the beach towards the cottage, sensing he was still watching her and helpless to do anything but let the shivers prickle her spine till she was safely out of distance. That cold, cold scrutiny of her had shaken her so deeply and darkly, it seemed as if the sunshine had disappeared for ever. Narrowing her eyes, she had to look up into the blue sky to reassure herself it was still there.
Saffron, the West Indian housemaid, took the sleeping baby from Karis’s arms as Karis stepped up onto the wooden verandah of the white coral stone cottage she shared with the two children. She smiled helplessly at Karis and spoke in a lilting whisper so as not to wake Tara.
‘He’s under the bed, Miss Karis. Making that funny sound again, so vexed it makes your own heart cry out. You’ve done so well with him and now—’
‘He’ll be OK,’ Karis reassured her, and smiled warmly at Saffron, who had been such a support to her this last year. ‘Put Tara down in her cot for me and I’ll coax him out, Saffron.’
‘I tried already, tempted him with his favourite pumpkin pie, but it’s no good; he just yowls and yowls. That child needs a doctor, one of them head doctors—’
‘Hush now, Saffron.’ Karis laughed softly, knowing she didn’t mean it and understanding why she said such things at times like this.
Saffron cared about Josh as deeply as Karis did and when Josh was hurting they all hurt, Saffron’s pain manifesting itself more dramatically than Karis’s with suggestions of psychiatrists and, once, voodoo!
‘You know as well as I do what Josh needs,’ Karis added meaningfully.
‘Well, he ain’t going to get it with that one,’ she said, meaning Fiesta and nodding towards the plantation house that was out of sight of the cottage, across the lush tropical gardens. Clutching Tara to her ample breasts, she turned and padded along the verandah, softly crooning to the baby and rocking her gently.
With a soft, long-drawn-out sigh of agreement Karis stepped into the open kitchen, poured herself a glass of water and sipped it slowly to calm herself. No, Josh wouldn’t get what he needed from Fiesta—a stable family life. Fiesta was too busy running her lucrative vacation business to give Josh what he needed.
It had always been a mystery to Karis why the boy was in Fiesta’s care when it was obvious he wasn’t wanted. At first it had crossed her mind that Fiesta might be Josh’s mother, but apparently not. No mother could treat a child with so much indifference, even if he had resulted from an unwanted pregnancy or was the product of a broken marriage. Nevertheless Josh was in Fiesta’s care and even Saffron didn’t know why or how. All Saffron knew was that there was a father somewhere but a mother had never been mentioned.
Karis carefully sliced a chunk of Saffron’s creamy pumpkin pie and poured a glass of milk for Josh in the kitchen. She carried them on a tray out onto the verandah and along to his bedroom which was next to hers, and firmly dispelled the cloud of depression that was promising to settle if she didn’t watch out. Josh needed reassuring and loving and she needed a smile on her face for that.
Karis made no attempt physically or verbally to persuade Josh out from under the bed. Past experience had taught her the task was hopeless. He’d come out when he was ready and she would be there for him, as always. She sat in a cane chair by the open patio doors, the air breezy and sweet with the scent of jasmine, and started to read softly from one of his favourite books, but as she read her mind was drifting elsewhere, reliving that cold, cold glare from the newly arrived stranger.
The man, with his impressive bearing and indisputable good looks, had mesmerised her from her first sight of him, but it hadn’t been a pleasant feeling—more disturbing than anything else. He had appeared to be as cold and hard as honed steel and yet that look of pain when Josh had defected…or had she imagined it?
‘W…w…w…’
‘Deep breaths, Josh,’ Karis suggested gently as she put the book down and lifted the boy onto her lap to cuddle him. He’d been standing looking over her shoulder for ages as she’d read but she hadn’t let on she knew he was there. It had to come from him otherwise it was hopeless. She held his forehead as he leaned back against her, taking deep breaths as she had suggested.
They had come a long way. A year ago, when Karis had arrived with four-month-old baby Tara, the boy had been silent, refusing to speak except to stutter abuse at Fiesta. Karis had been shocked and deeply upset by his behaviour, and shaken by Fiesta’s uncaring attitude towards the troubled boy. It was obvious he was an embarrassment to her in front of her guests and she wanted him out from under her feet and frankly didn’t care who unburdened her.
While in England, promoting her exclusive, private Caribbean island holidays, Fiesta had advertised for a nanny and Karis had applied. Though she had no qualifications, Karis had been desperate enough to try for the job. At the interview Fiesta had said nothing about the boy being a problem child. It had only been when Karis arrived on Levos that she’d found out just what a problem he was and, worse, that apparently she was the latest in a long line of nannies, most highly qualified but unable or unwilling to cope with the appalling little boy.
At first Karis had thought she couldn’t cope herself, not with Tara and the sadness and tragedy of her own past to come to terms with as well. But something about the badly behaved boy had tugged so painfully at her heartstrings that she hadn’t been able to leave. And, strangely, having to care for Josh, having to give so much of herself to gain his confidence, she had found he had unknowingly given her much in return. She had arrived on the island a shadow of her former self, rock-bottom low and with little self-esteem, only to find a very frightened little boy with much the same hang-ups and misery. It had brought her up short. In a child, disturbance and melancholia were all the more tragic. It wasn’t natural for a child to be so deeply unhappy.
So Karis had forced her own self-pity behind her, cared for Josh and her own baby daughter, and made life bearable and as much fun as possible for them all. It had been a long, hard, painful haul to win Josh’s trust, and there were still days when he was difficult, but on the whole he was a much happier child than he had been a year ago and Karis was no longer the shadow of grief she had been when she had arrived.
‘W…will he take me away?’ Josh breathed at last.
Karis held him close, smoothing a hand across his hot brow. ‘Will who take you away?’ she dared to ask, wanting confirmation from him that Daniel was who she thought he was. Fiesta wasn’t at all forthcoming about Josh’s past. Karis had asked her about Josh’s parentage once but a tight-lipped Fiesta had told her to mind her own business and do what she was paid to do: look after the boy.
‘My father,’ Josh blurted. ‘Will he take me away?’
So he was Josh’s father. She had thought so when he had removed his sunglasses. They had the same eyes—cold and inhospitable, suspicious, cautious…and yet there were times when Josh’s eyes showed deep warmth and love and bright humour and perhaps the father had the capability of such emotions in him too. The thought gave a curious twist to her senses.
‘I don’t know,’ Karis admitted truthfully. She was always honest with him because he was too intelligent to be fobbed off with excuses. ‘But I’ll find out what’s going on, Josh,’ she promised, hugging the boy to her.
And she would. Daniel Kennedy, Josh’s father, was on the island and the reason must be to see his son and discuss his future with Fiesta, for surely he didn’t expect the wealthy socialite to look after him indefinitely? And where was Josh’s mother? That Simone certainly wasn’t his mother because Josh would have said if she was.
It was so worrying to Karis. Caring for him every day of their lives, she knew that the child needed a stable home life, preferably with a full set of parents, and though she had done her best a nanny’s best wasn’t enough to carry the child through the rest of his childhood. And when he did go? She, with Tara, would have to move on and carve out another new life for them both because they couldn’t go back. Karis wouldn’t be welcomed back; she didn’t want to go back. She’d learnt a lot here—not least that a simple life was worth a king’s ransom in terms of peace of mind.
‘Can we go to the creek?’ Josh asked tentatively. One hand was curved over his shoulder, twisting a strand of Karis’s jet hair around his fingers as she cuddled him. The small, intimate gesture of confidence and caring for her always pulled at Karis’s heart. She knew that in his way the boy cared very deeply for her and if his father had come to take him away…
It didn’t bear thinking about but a small thought stayed around long enough to have Karis grasping at it with both hands. If his intention was to take the child off the island he would still need a nanny—unless, of course, there was a mother around…but no one knew if one even existed. Both Josh and Fiesta were a closed book where Josh’s past was concerned. It was as if he had never lived before his two years on this island.
‘Yes, we’ll go to the creek,’ Karis decided quickly, bear-hugging the boy to her and planting a squidgy kiss beneath his ear, making him laugh.
Daniel might come to the cottage looking for his son but Saffron was here and would tell him where they were. Optimistically Karis imagined telling him all about his estranged son, what a good swimmer he was, how well he could read—an amazing achievement for a five-year-old who a year ago hadn’t been able to string a sentence together.
Yes, she would have so much to tell him, so why was that grey cloud of uncertainty looming? She knew but didn’t want to think about it. One day soon, she and Tara would lose Josh to his cold, unfeeling father and…No, she wouldn’t think about it, not yet. Josh wanted to swim and dive and chase sea turtles under the water and frankly so did she.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind staying on while I’m over at the main house, Saffron?’ Karis asked later.
Saffron lived over at the staff cottages behind the plantation house and Karis had never had reason to ask her to stay late before. She had no social life and there was certainly nowhere to go on the tiny island even if she had. She had never been issued with an invitation to join one of Fiesta’s house parties, of which there were numerous in the holiday season. She was staff after all.
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Saffron told her as she finished off the washing up and turned to gaze at Karis, who was trying to do something with her unruly hair in front of the kitchen mirror. ‘Best if you find out what that boy’s father’s intentions are.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Karis murmured thoughtfully. She coiled her hair in a bundle on the top of her head and secured it with a gilt clasp. She had dressed in her best outfit—a slip of a silk dress in dark green with fine shoulder straps. Her feet were bare, though. After a year of tropical island living shoes and even sandals were unbearable on her feet. She supposed she had gone native this last year but the laidback lifestyle of the West Indians had appealed to her after the formality of life in Britain. She was freer here than she had ever been before. But she was bowing to convention now, making the best of herself to face Fiesta and possibly Josh’s father, because it was important that she give a good impression…but blow the shoes!
‘Are you sure Josh’s father didn’t come to the cottage while Josh and I were along at the creek?’ she asked as she tucked an unruly wisp of dark hair back into the clasp.
Earlier she’d told Saffron about Josh’s father arriving on the island and had fully expected him to come to the cottage to see his son once he had unpacked. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t.
‘I’m sure,’ Saffron assured her. ‘I sat out on that verandah all the time and he didn’t come near.’
And yet Karis had been sure they had been watched as they’d swum and practised diving in the tiny creek on the other side of the island, only fifteen minutes’ walk away but far enough to claim seclusion. Fiesta’s guests were generally a lazy lot who never ventured far from the opulent plantation house with its swimming pool and the bar lavishly stocked with every cocktail ingredient imaginable.
She must have been mistaken, unnerved by that dark man’s unyielding eyes as he had stopped and stared earlier, and imagined he must be shadowing her and Josh.
‘It’s awful,’ Karis sighed, and licked her fingers and smoothed them over her dark brows. ‘He hasn’t seen him at all since I’ve been looking after him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him.’
‘He came when you were on St Lucia with Tara for her check-up, six months ago,’ Saffron told her, rubbing her hands on a tea-towel as Karis swung to face her in surprise. ‘You remember the boy was yowling for a week when you came back.’
‘I thought it was because he was angry with me for not taking him,’ Karis stated in astonishment ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Saffron?’ Oh, she should have done. It would have helped to know the real reason for Josh’s distress.
Saffron shrugged without looking at her. ‘No good you vexing yourself about it too.’
‘Hmm. Maybe.’ Karis exhaled. That was Saffron’s reasoning—ignorance was bliss—and perhaps she was right. Karis would have vexed herself over it.
She would have liked to know all the same; after all, she was the closest to the small, troubled boy and she might have been able to draw him out if she had known what was bothering him. It dragged at her heart to think the child was in such fear of his own father.
‘I won’t be long,’ she told Saffron from the open door onto the verandah. ‘If the children wake—’
“They won’t,’ Saffron laughed, and then the wide grin drained from her round face and she grew serious. ‘I wish you were all dressed up like that for a date.’
‘A date with whom?’ Karis laughed softly and added teasingly, ‘One of those ghastly rich old men that fly down from Miami for Fiesta’s vacations? I’d rather court the devil, Saffron.’
‘Wicked girl!’ Saffron chastised her, with humour softening the remark.
‘Not at all a wicked girl,’ Karis muttered under her breath as she followed the path to the plantation house through the subtly lit gardens. The devil himself was a safer bet than the one man she’d allowed into her life, the man she had married and lost so tragically. Poor Aiden. Karis shivered sorrowfully in spite of the cloying heat. He hadn’t deserved what fate had dealt him, no matter what he had done. But he had given her Tara, the one good thing he had done in his life, and for that she couldn’t allow his memory to fade though her memories of him were tinged with sadness and bitterness most of the time.
It was a velvety black tropical night with heavy cloud obscuring the moon and pressing the heat of the day back down to earth, making the air thick and heady. Karis could hear laughter coming from the beach and smell the charcoal grill sizzling T-bone steaks and so she avoided the waterfront route to the house. Fiesta hadn’t got her nickname for nothing. She knew how to throw a beach party.
As Karis strolled unhurriedly through the scented gardens she rehearsed in her head what she wanted to say to Fiesta…and Josh’s father if he was around. The boy needed so much more than he was getting on the island. He needed proper schooling for one thing, though Karis did her best She didn’t want to lose him, dreaded the thought in fact, but his welfare and future were her chief concern and that small thought she had grasped to her earlier was growing in momentum. If this wasn’t just a visit and Daniel was planning on taking Josh back to the States he would need a nanny for him, and who better for the job than the one who had cared for the child and had worked a small miracle on him this last year?
Karis circled the house till she was under the wide wrought-iron balcony of the sitting room, where lights blazed out from the open French doors. She’d checked with Fiesta’s housekeeper where she was and rather than go through the house and run the risk of bumping into any of the house guests, who were usually well on the way to being drunk at this time of the night, she had skirted the house and opted for the balcony and the small flight of wrought-iron steps that led up to it from the rose gardens beneath.
‘What qualifications has she got?’ The brutal query came from above Karis’s head and it stilled her instantly. She flattened herself against the scratchy coral wall of the house, under the balcony where it was shadowy and she couldn’t be seen. The deep, resonant voice was Daniel Kennedy’s and she knew instinctively he was referring to her.
‘Qualifications? You expect someone with qualifications to give your uncontrollable son the time of day? Get real, Daniel. Karis is the only one to have stayed!’ Fiesta argued stiffly.
‘And it’s quite obvious why,’ Daniel stated emphatically. ‘She’s nothing but a child herself, and wild with it—all that hair and barefoot like a native. She must have thought she’d landed on her feet when you offered her this luxurious life. Where the hell did you drag her up from?’
Karis steeled herself, muscles cramping, closing her eyes tightly against the pain of the insult.
‘And the baby on her hip,’ he ground on, not giving Fiesta a chance to explain. ‘I don’t expect her to look after other people’s children when I’m paying her to look after Josh.’
‘Tara is her own child.’
There was a gasp of exasperation from Josh’s father. ‘It gets worse! You never told me all this the last time I was here.’
‘I wasn’t going to cook the golden goose, was I? I took her on because she was young and looked capable enough to handle him. Having her own child didn’t matter to me. As it turns out Karis is good for the boy.’
‘Good for him!’ he responded in disbelief. ‘Some unkempt teenager with an illegitimate—’
Karis’s fiercely clenched fists bunched over her ears to shut the world out. She didn’t want to hear any more—she couldn’t; it was unbearable.
Hurt beyond measure by that cutting jibe against her, she stealthily crept away from the house and only broke into a shaky trot when she knew she couldn’t be heard blundering through the vegetation in the gardens. The suffocating humidity of the night quickly drained her and by the time she reached the beach she was breathless, clutching at her throat for air and ripping the clasp from her hair with her other hand and shaking it wild and free.
Unkempt, was she? Wild, was she? What did he know? Just what did he know? Tears streamed down her cheeks and with a sob she lifted her face to the soft, warm breeze to dry them. She was hurt and angry—yes, very angry.
How could he have said all those dreadful things about her? How arrogant, how unfair, he didn’t even know her! And surely Fiesta could have spoken up for her more loyally? She’d done her very best for Josh and Fiesta knew it, so why hadn’t she told him more forcefully?
Her pulse rate levelled and common sense prevailed at last as she kicked surf at the water’s edge. But perhaps Fiesta was even now telling that poor excuse for a father just how good for Josh she was when he should have been doing the job himself! But she had to concede that Daniel Kennedy had sounded, if in a brutal way, caring as to who was looking after his son. At the expense of her emotions and senses, though, Karis thought miserably. Why make excuses for him? He was the father from hell!
‘And while you are out here gazing at the stars who the devil is watching over my son?’
Karis’s heart missed several beats as her elbow was imprisoned in a vice-like grip and she was hauled back from the surf and onto dry sand. She was whirled around to face her accuser, judge and jury! Condemned before she’d had a chance to speak in defence of herself!
Menacing clouds tore apart to reveal the moon and his stern features were clearly visible as he held her firmly, his eyes steely and accusing. Daniel Kennedy.
Recovering quickly, Karis lifted her chin defiantly and shook her arm from his grasp, and when she spoke her voice was clear and controlled because his insults had angered her so much it had fired her adrenalin, spicing up her strength, giving her courage to stand up for herself.
‘Your son is in good hands,’ she told him confidently. ‘He is asleep and I’m not gazing at the stars as if I’ve nothing better to do. I don’t default in my duties as your son’s carer—even if I am seen as wild and unkempt,’ she added meaningfully.
He looked perplexed for a moment, not understanding the last statement. Karis put him out of his misery at the expense of her own. ‘I came over to the plantation house to see Fiesta and overheard you both talking,’ she explained. Her green eyes narrowed. ‘I walked away when you hit the illegitimate bit,’ she added thinly, and then, giving him a last look of indifference, turned and walked away again. He didn’t follow.
She was still angry and hurt but managed to hide it as she dismissed Saffron, thanking her for staying on to watch over the sleeping children and promising her she would tell her everything in the morning. Saffron seemed satisfied with the promise of a gossip the next day and said nothing but a warm goodnight as she left.
Karis poured herself a fruit juice and took it onto the candlelit verandah to drink it and cool herself down after what she had heard from Daniel Kennedy—his angry implication that she wasn’t doing her job properly. How that hurtful remark made her blood boil. That he should come here after goodness knew how long and start—
‘I’d like to see my son.’
Like a spectre, he had suddenly appeared at the rail of the verandah. Karis looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. At least he had asked—or maybe she was misinterpreting his change of tone and that was an order, not a request.
‘He’s asleep,’ she told him quietly.
He stepped up onto the verandah and Karis was able to see him better in the glow of the candles. He wore tropical whites and was an incredibly forbidding creature. Darkly good-looking and charismatic, with an air of mystery about him, he obviously had the capability of charming the birds from the trees, but not with Karis. As his unyielding eyes challenged hers frostily she was chilled through, in spite of the heat of the tropical night.
‘I said I’d like to see him and I wasn’t asking your permission,’ he stated flatly.
Karis hesitantly stood up. She didn’t like this man. She hadn’t liked him before meeting him so nothing was new. He had a serious attitude problem. He had nothing good to say about her and that was unjustified because he didn’t know her. But he was Josh’s father and unfortunately that couldn’t be questioned so she couldn’t deny access to him, whatever the time of night. Without another word Karis lifted a candle in a jar from the table to light the way.
He followed her along the verandah and she felt his dark, disapproving eyes boring into the exposed skin of her back. Again those prickles of awareness played at the base of her spine.
Carefully Karis slid open the door and, holding the candle up, stepped back to let him pass through into the little boy’s bedroom. To her utter surprise he took her elbow and urged her into the room ahead of him and then shocked her deeply by saying under his breath, ‘I don’t want him to awake and be afraid.’
With her heart twisting Karis stood beside him at the foot of Josh’s bed. What an appalling admission that was. What dark past had these two shared? But at least by visiting him while he slept Daniel was showing some concern for his son’s feelings.
Josh slept peacefully on his back, his head turned to one side, the sheet pushed down to his waist in the heat of the night. The child, in sleep, was unaware he was being gazed down on, Karis with love and caring in her eyes for she did indeed love the little boy…but the father? Karis dared take a sidelong glance at the man who gripped the brass footrail of his son’s bed as fiercely as he had grasped the rail of the yacht he’d arrived on.
He didn’t want to be here, she thought despondently. This was a duty call to his son. His face was set, unyielding, showing no emotion as he gazed down at the boy.
Then Josh stirred and in that instant Daniel Kennedy’s lashes flickered. A tiny, fleeting reaction that had Karis’s heart beating wildly in the hope that she might see some of the love this boy deserved from his father.
The flickering reaction to his son’s movement was gone as swiftly as it had appeared. Stiffly he stepped back from the bed and so did Karis, and then the candle flame wavered as the movement of his body turning to face her stirred the still air around them.
‘You have cared for him well,’ he said, his voice so low and throaty, she scarcely caught the words.
A compliment? She hadn’t expected one.
‘To outward appearances,’ he added, so meanly that Karis’s heart nearly stopped with shock.
Once they were back outside on the verandah Karis slid the door shut behind them and lifted the candle so she could see his face more clearly.
‘I don’t think you will be disappointed, Mr Kennedy,’ she said softly but firmly.
‘I’d better not be,’ he said thinly. ‘I don’t want to start my married life putting right all the added damage you might have done this past year.’
He gave her no space, no time to respond to that wicked, uncalled-for criticism. He was gone into the airless night before she’d fully taken in what he had said.
Karis stood for a long while on the verandah, staring out over the gardens and not seeing anything, trying to cool her anger and to grasp at the reality of what he had said. Starting married life? Daniel Kennedy was married to that beautiful but awful screeching woman and this was their honeymoon?
Was Daniel Kennedy divorced from Josh’s mother and Simone the second wife or even the third or the fourth? Oh, it didn’t bear thinking about. Poor little Josh. He didn’t deserve that.
And it was none of her business, Karis told herself miserably and unconvincingly. The night seemed to oppress her and the cloying heat to press down on her and she was swamped with dreadful thoughts of that Simone taking over and being Josh’s mother.
The pair of them had come to take Josh off the island. They were good-looking but seemed distinctly lacking in terms of character.
And then she felt again that mysterious snap of envy she had been whiplashed with earlier. She did envy that siren Simone. She envied her for being married to Josh’s father and claiming Josh for her own and she envied them all starting a family life together because that was something she had been cheated out of in her own life. But that was all she envied Simone for; the rest of her feelings were taken up with pity. Being married to Daniel Kennedy must be like living with Satan’s first cousin: hell on earth.
