Seduction on the Cards (20 page)

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Authors: Kris Pearson

BOOK: Seduction on the Cards
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Why did that thought not bring a wave of profound relief to him?

He realized with a sickening shock he was half-way hooked. This simply couldn’t be happening. 

Not with a Kiwi. 

Not with a gambler. 

Not with someone who would repeat all his mother’s mistakes and reduce his carefully created security to chaos again.

One more day. I can manage one more day. 

He’d start by messing up that newly–made bed, taking all the time he needed to make it good for them both. 

Then they’d have a late supper somewhere. Hopefully he could convince her into that knockout red tiger-striped dress again. It had felt fantastic last night knowing every man in the place wanted to swap places with him. 

And then he’d convince her out of it, once they’d enjoyed some music or dancing.

Tomorrow they’d pack their bags, do a little more sightseeing, and it would be goodbye forever. 

He could do it. He had to. 

 

After an indulgent breakfast, they found a tiny idyllic deserted beach. The vast lagoon glittered and shimmered as they embraced in the clear water.

Kerri sighed. It was so nearly over.

“Did you enjoy it here with me?” he murmured. “It’s a long trip home for you. Was it worth it?”

“You know it was,” she whispered, nibbling his salty neck and shoulder. “It’s a longer trip home for you too.”

“That’s the way my life is.”

“Do you wish it wasn’t?”

“I have what I wanted... what I worked for.”

“That’s okay then,” she said, sinking below the surface so she could hide her face from him.

She snagged one of his ankles and he toppled over in an explosion of bubbles and foam, and grabbed her in return. When they burst, breathless, to the surface again, her impending tears were hidden by the streams of sea-water that ran down from her hair. 

They returned to bustling Anse Vata for lunch.  

She sat toying with her quiche, far from hungry. Her conscience gnawed at her. Her tummy felt queasy. 

She took a deep breath for courage. Oh what would it matter—she might as well tell him! It was the only way she’d be able to keep faith with Sarah—and she hoped Alex wouldn’t be so very angry with her when they had so few hours left together.

She cleared her throat and fixed him with hopeful eyes.

“Alex, could you possibly loan me some cash?”

He blinked with slight surprise.


Oui cherie—
I could. May I know what for?”

“I want to buy Sarah some duty-free perfume on the plane. She gave me the money for it, and I lost it.”

“You lost your wallet? You should have said.” He was on his feet in an instant. “I’ll report it. You still have your passport?”

Kerri half-rose as well, dragged on his hand and hissed “Sit down Alex, of course I do!” She swallowed, choking on the words she knew she had to say. “I lost it on the slots at the casino,” she muttered. “That’s where I went on Saturday while you were out. That’s why I was looking so po-faced when I came back.”

He stared at her, eyes brilliant and accusing under drawn-down black brows, lips compressed as though to hold in his furious response.

“And that’s why you bought yourself no pretty treats from the boutiques here?” he finally asked. 

She nodded, and looked down in shame.

“And wouldn’t let me buy you anything either? As punishment, I suppose? How much?”

“None of your business.”

“How much, Kerri.”

“Not much by your standards. Too much by mine. But I’ll get by.”

“I asked how much, Kerri.”

She gritted her teeth. What did it matter to him? It was her life, her mistake. He didn’t need to get so worked up about it—no-one else would. No-one else ever had. Not since Grandpa had read her the riot act the day he died.

“Just over five hundred dollars,” she admitted. “But I only need a hundred for Sarah.”

“How much do you need for
you?

“I told you I’d survive...”

“Not if you’re desperate enough to try and borrow a hundred dollars. How much do you owe?”

She wrapped her arms across her midriff and rocked to and fro with embarrassment, looking down at her half-eaten quiche, and wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of her remaining coffee. Finally she raised her head and risked a glance at him.

“In the whole wide world? Eleven thousand.”

“Total?”

“Yes.” She grimaced, wishing so much she didn’t have to tell him. “I bumped my credit card limit up a bit to buy that dress for dinner, and to have some spending money with you, and...”

She shrugged, and he stared her down with eyes of deepest freezing blue.

“So every month you’ve been paying exorbitant interest on ten thousand dollars, and now it’ll be eleven? How much do you earn, Kerri?

“Enough.”

“Not to service a sum like that—for
nothing
in return. You pay how many percent?”

She shrugged again, utterly mortified to be grilled like this.

“Around twenty?” she hazarded.

She watched as his clever brain ticked over.

“Nearly two hundred dollars every month in interest. And are you paying any of the balance back?”

“Sometimes.”

“But not often, I suspect. Any other debts?”

“No!”

“Well, that’s a mercy. So you’ve no money at all until your next payday. Not even enough to pay your airport taxes, hmmm?”

Kerri swallowed again. She’d forgotten those.

“Well, could you make it a bit more a hundred, then?” she tried gamely.

Alex exhaled in a rush. He pushed back in his chair and glowered at her. She felt as though she was some loathsome insect all lined up for a scientific experiment.

A painful one.

“Give me your credit card.”

Not knowing what else to do, she rummaged in her bag and handed the card across to him.

His strong fingers bent it in half, rendering it useless.

“Hey—I need that!”

“No Kerri,
I
need it. I shall be cancelling it, and instructing your bank not to issue you with another one under any circumstances.”

“You bastard! You can’t do that.”

“And I shall pay off the balance for you,” he continued implacably, “to take away the worry, and to leave you more money to live on. You will
not
be gambling again—that’s my only condition.”

Kerri lifted her chin, ready to fight. Disbelief that he could do this danced alongside the possibility that the burden might really be gone.

“You can’t pay off eleven thousand dollars.”

“Oh, you’re cheap at the price—the building cost me more than six million.”

She sat there gaping, feeling as though he’d flung a bucket of cold water over her. So as far as Alex was concerned she was worth about the same as a small office or a half a bathroom...

He tossed some notes onto the table.

“Perfume for Sarah, and enough to take care of your transport to the airport and the departure tax.”

 “You’re not driving me back to Tontouta?” Her brain dived dizzily from relief to affront to sharp regret.

“No Kerri, not after this. I’m disappointed in you beyond belief. Maybe this will bring you to your senses.”

He added another couple of notes. “And for the Wellington end as well.”

She parted her lips to speak, and then pressed them closed again. “You’ve made me feel like a prostitute,” she eventually whispered, feeling cold, and ashamed and small.

He pushed back his chair even further, making it rasp on the pavers, then rose, reached over and touched her face. 

“Your take on it, not mine,” he said. 

And left.

 

He drove aimlessly around the twisting sun-soaked roads above Anse Vata, then into Noumea proper and along the city streets. Without knowing quite how he’d got there, he slowed and braked to a halt on a hilltop with a magnificent view out over the water. Boats scythed through the dappled sea. Windsurfers angled their small craft against the fresh breeze. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes, and behind his sun-warmed eyelids Kerri’s face swam into sharp focus. Her bouncy dark hair with its fine strands of scarlet. Her sparkling brown eyes. Her cheeky smile—and then the woebegone expression that had been his last glimpse of her. 

He cursed out loud and fired up the engine again. Drove further into the countryside. Driving for the sake of driving. Killing time. 

There was no joy in the sporty car now. No lift in his heart, and no hope he’d ever forgive Kerri for pulling a stunt like that. Sneaking off when he wasn’t looking. Gambling—when she knew how much he disapproved of it. Knew how long and hard he’d worked to help people with the addiction because of the anguish he’d gone through with his mother. God, she really was Isabelle all over again! He’d had a lucky escape.

Not that I’d intended starting anything serious.

Well, he would pay off her credit card debt and hope she somehow found the fortitude to stay on the straight and narrow from now on. Unlikely, in his experience. 

But it felt good to have done that for her. And considering where his initial money had come from, it felt oddly appropriate, too.

 

Kerri cried most of the way home. Silent desperate dry sobs, which she hoped the man sitting two seats away didn’t notice. She was grateful for the empty seat between them, and turned her face to the window, staring at the clouds far below for the whole trip.  

The hurt welled up so strongly that all of her skin felt exhausted, all of her bones felt soggy. She seemed to be in the grip of a strange fierce lethargy, drained of energy and purpose.  

Alex had been wonderful. And cruel. And generous. And so damned sexy she wanted to howl her loss out loud as the plane ripped them ever further apart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

If the week after Sylvie had been bad, the week after Noumea was horrendous. Kerri yawned and grouched and sighed repeatedly, and felt so tired, so touchy, so guilty as Alex swam through her thoughts every moment of every day.

Bet he’s living it up in Paris. Bet he’s out with some showgirl. Bet he’s acting smug because he thinks he’s bought me off and reformed me.

And by Friday evening there was still no sign of her period.

“God!” she snapped at Sarah. “If only the damn thing would arrive I’d feel so much better.”

“There’s no chance...that you might be pregnant?” 

Sarah asked this with caution. She’d had her head bitten off at least a dozen times since Kerri had returned late on Monday night with the promised perfume.

“Not a hope in hell. This is probably too much information, but Alex was fanatical about using condoms all that day on the boat.”

“And in Noumea?”

“Well—no—because my period was so close. I was scared it was going to arrive any minute. My boobs were sore and my temper was foul.”

“So maybe a little tadpole sneaked out of one of those condoms on the boat and now you’re about a fortnight pregnant? Your breasts are the first sign. That, and being tired. Are you tired?”

“Utterly wrecked,” Kerri confessed, feeling the panic starting to spiral up her spine. Was it possible? Even
remotely
possible? Her life was chaotic enough without adding a baby to the mix.

“You weren’t on the pill?”

“Who for? Of course not. There’s been no-one...”

No-one else who ever made me feel that alive. No-one who annoyed me so much, and pleased me so much, and bossed me round, and somehow got his way too often, and made me mad for his body. No-one
ever
like Alex.  

“You need to buy a test and check.”

“No way. It’s totally not happening.” 

She stared at Sarah, wide-eyed, desperate to demolish the possibility, even as some tiny corner of her mind acknowledged it might be true.

“If you were expecting your period a few days ago,” sensible Sarah said, “then you’d have ovulated just before the boat trip. Sorry—the timing kind of fits. The test would put your mind at rest.” 

Bet it’s a boy
, flickered across Kerri’s brain. 

She turned away from Sarah’s concerned gaze and looked down at the sketch she’d been working on. Alex—a better version than her quick effort on the galley’s small notepad. There he lay on smooth ivory card, bare-chested and sleepy-eyed, the man who might have made her pregnant just minutes before she’d captured him on that first scrap of paper. The man she’d never see again.

“He’d make beautiful babies,” she murmured, tilting him so Sarah could see. “But he’d better not have!”

“He’s hot,” Sarah agreed, appreciating the man in the intimate sketch. “Stop trying to change the subject, though. You need to do a pregnancy test.” 

Kerri shook her head.

“It’s best to know,” Sarah insisted, “and they work really early these days. I’ll pop down to the pharmacy before they close. I’ll buy two, just in case, okay?”

“In case of what?” Kerri squeaked.  

“In case the first one’s positive. You might want to re-do it to check in a while? To be sure? I’ll buy you a Lotto ticket as well, for good luck,” she added.

“No, just the tests, thanks. I promised Alex I’d try not to gamble, and I’ve lasted a whole week so far. I’ll get my wallet.”  

“My shout,” Sarah offered.

“No way. I can afford my own pregnancy tests, thanks.  But maybe a very little bar of chocolate? I could kill for chocolate right now.”

“Cravings already?” Sarah joked, stepping sideways to avoid the jab that was sure to follow. She dropped her hands onto Kerri’s slight shoulders and gave them a brief squeeze. “Chin up, Kerri-babes. It might be just a bug you’ve caught.”

A tall, dark and devastating French bug,
Kerri thought
. A bug that’s going to stick around for my whole life.  

 

The first test came up positive. She crept out of the bathroom and held the stick towards Sarah. Then she hiccupped out a couple of disbelieving laughs and collapsed in a sobbing heap on the sofa while Sarah bustled around offering sympathy, tea, tissues, anything that might help.  

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