THE REBEL AND THE RICH GIRL (2 page)

“And this must be your little sister. Nicole isn’t it?” he drawled, extending his hand to her. Nicole ignored it, linking her fingers together behind her back. No way was her hand coming in contact with that hard cynical mouth.

“I’ll have you know I’m his
big
sister, by about four years,” she asserted tartly.

He smiled, but it was more to himself, and nothing like the one he’d given Trisha. “You know what they say about redheads,” he remarked. “Beware of their tempers.”

“That’s a myth, like so many beliefs men have about women,” Nicole denied.

“I rest my case. Fiery like their hair,” he concluded, before turning back to Trisha and Robert.

Nicole was almost tempted to prove him correct with a swift kick in the shins from her pointy black shoes. In a few short moments he’d confirmed all her pre-conceptions about his character.

He
was
a macho male chauvinist.

‘So tell me how you came up with the name of Mr Cameron’s yacht?” Trisha asked him with a smile. Oh no, Nicole thought, she’s not going to start flirting with the arrogant man, is she?

“That was easy once I knew what his wife’s name was. I’m surprised he didn’t think of it himself.”

“It’s very clever,” Trisha almost gushed.

Nicole felt a dull ache settle at the base of her temple, and squinting against the setting sun wasn’t helping. “Perhaps we should go inside now,” she suggested, turning to head back to the clubhouse. She heard Trisha’s high heels clicking on the wooden planks as they followed her.

“Oh dear! These shoes really weren’t made for walking on these uneven boards.”

Nicole glanced over her shoulder to see Trisha reach for Philip’s arm. He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. Trisha was tall enough not to need to wear teetering stilettos. If anyone needed the extra height it was Nicole, but her court shoes were low and practical in comparison. She felt awkward enough in her tight dress, so she hadn’t wanted to add to her discomfort by wearing footwear that would make her feet ache.

“But they do wonders for your legs,” Philip observed.

Trisha’s response was to giggle and almost stumble off the edge of the marina. If she hadn’t been holding onto his arm, she probably would have. OK, she hasn’t learnt a thing over the past four years, Nicole decided. A good looking man just had to compliment her and she was ready to make the same mistake all over again. Philip Pelayo looked, and acted, like the kind of man who broke hearts as regularly as he had hot dinners.

Out of loyalty to her friend, Nicole remained at her side as they entered the club building and made their way into the lounge. There wasn’t anyone else there she wanted to talk to anyway.

“So what do you do apart from sail on yachts?” Trisha asked Philip, as she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It also meant she finally had to let go of his arm. Nicole helped herself to an orange juice, as did Philip. Perhaps he has to drive, she thought, the only logical explanation she could think of as to why he wasn’t imbibing anything alcoholic.

“It depends on if it’s night or day. I have a wide range of interests,” he answered her with a suggestive wink.

Nicole rolled her eyes.

“No, I mean what do you do for a living?” Trisha giggled.

“You should have been more specific then,” he teased. “I’m a lawyer. And you?”

“The same as Nicole. We’re fully fledged do-gooders now.”

Nicole didn’t just roll her eyes she stamped her foot, wondering how her friend could denigrate their profession like that in front of someone like him.

“Graduate welfare workers out to save the world, huh?” he drawled.

“Social workers,” Nicole felt obliged to correct him. “Four years at university not two years at college.”

He looked down his long straight nose at her and then clicked his glass to hers. “Congratulations.”

Nicole almost spilled her juice. Gripping hold of the glass with both hands she took a large gulp, which she then choked on. Spluttering, she felt her cheeks burn. I am so
not
having a good day, she thought, as juice trickled down the side of the glass.

To her surprise Philip held out a napkin to her. At least she hoped it was a napkin and not his handkerchief.

“Thanks,” she murmured none too graciously, snatching it from him to wipe her fingers and the glass. She had no desire to come into any kind of physical contact with a man who was so obvious about his sexuality. But then Trisha had started it, and it was clear he was playing up to her.

To her relief they were joined by Peter, Gail and several other crew members. There were to be ten on the yacht, mostly friends and colleagues with whom Peter had sailed before. The two with him now were the youngest, in their mid to late twenties. Nicole had met them before.

Jim was tall and blonde, with a handsome tanned face. On noticing Trisha beside Philip, he manoeuvred his way to her other side and introduced himself. It wouldn’t be long before she had a crowd of men around her. Some things never changed, Nicole thought. Like moths to a flame, men just couldn’t keep away from beautiful women. But it would at least give Philip Pelayo some competition. The man was too sure of himself by far.

Steve had brown hair, green eyes and a round friendly face. He was solidly built but not overweight. Of the three men he was the most likable. There wasn’t anything pretentious about the young high school teacher. Nicole had had several interesting conversations with him in the past and was happy enough to talk to him now. It also helped pass the time, and kept her attention from Trisha and her fan club. Nicole had invited Trisha so she could get to know the crew-members and not feel so out of place once they all arrived in Hobart. It seemed she was going to get to know at least one of them quite intimately indeed. Now she wished she had never invited her. Watching her flirt and chat so easily with the men around her reminded Nicole too much of the past. Even though she could now hold her own in mixed company, Trisha’s obvious interest in Philip was really starting to grate on her. If it was only for the fun of it, she might understand, but Trisha was looking for a husband, and Nicole was pretty certain Philip wasn’t the marrying kind.

All too soon Steve’s girlfriend appeared at his side, glaring daggers at Nicole. As if I could or would steal your boyfriend off you? Nicole glared back. Gosh look at you! You’re tall and slim, and probably don’t need to diet incessantly to remain that way. But for some reason, she seemed to perceive Nicole as a threat. Probably because of whom her parents were, since she knew nothing about her. It made Nicole sigh, since it seemed no one else could be bothered getting to know the real her.

The only person Nicole had been able to confide in was her grandmother, but she had died not long after Nicole finished school. Starting university had helped numb the grief. But Nicole still missed her, because she had talked to the elderly woman about everything. Not even Trisha was aware of her inexperience with men, or her past weight problem, simply because Nicole was always the one Trisha came to for a shoulder to cry on when one of them let her down, knowing Nicole would be able to provide unbiased emotional support.

The crowd shifted as people came and went. More of Peter’s crew members joined them. There were mainly wealthy businessmen and their wives. The room became oppressively hot as more people arrived, until there was barely enough room to move. The band which was meant to be playing soft background music was too loud, and the dull ache was now an insistent throbbing. Nicole hoped it wasn’t going to turn into a migraine. That was the last thing she needed right now. Nobody would miss her if she slipped outside for a few minutes, she decided, and left Trisha to the men gathered around her. Besides, she had done what she’d set out to do; make an appearance as per her parents’ request, and introduced Trisha to
Gail Warning’s
crew.

A few people occupied the benches near the waterfront, obviously with the same idea. Nicole went to stand by the railing, breathing in the salty harbour air. As she gazed out across the all the yachts moored there, she brought her fingers to her temples, trying to work the ache from her forehead. The cooler air and relative silence helped ease the pain a little.

Finally one of the couples left, and Nicole sat down on the bench with her back to the table. As she rested there, she wondered why she was feeling so drained. After four years of study, she now felt at a loss, trying to decide what to do next. The elation she’d been expecting after sitting her final exam never came. One door of her life had closed, but ensuring she took the right one to the next stage filled her with uncertainty. A deep restlessness filled her, and she had no idea how to deal with it.

“You’re not being very sociable for a budding young social worker,” a deep masculine voice murmured close to her ear. It startled her, making her jerk round in surprise. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Mind if I join you?” Philip Pelayo asked, his face still unnervingly close to hers.

She minded all right, but without waiting for an answer he sat down beside her. As he made himself comfortable, his thigh brushed against the fabric of her dress. Nicole felt it rustle, and slid further along the bench, glad she hadn’t been holding another beverage, because she was sure it would have ended up all over her. His mere presence made her so tense she wanted to scream.

“And what made you decide to become a social worker?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.

“None of your business,” she retorted, glancing down at the shimmering material of her dress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stretch out his long legs, noticing how the fabric of his trousers caught around his thighs, drawing attention to their muscular strength. She returned her gaze to her own lap, conscious of how small and fragile she looked in comparison.

“It seems such an unlikely career choice for the daughter of a prominent business man to make. Trisha’s reasoning I can understand. She comes from a broken home, has a mentally ill mother, and knows what area she wants to work in.”

So her friend had told him that much already. It had been months before Nicole learnt anything about Trisha’s mother.

“My grandmother was a social worker,” Nicole said eventually, wondering why she was bothering to justify herself to him.

“So you want to carry on a family tradition.” He leant back against the table, stretching his arm along it until his hand was resting only centimetres from her shoulder.

“Is there something wrong with that?” she snapped.

“Not that I can see, but they’re going to eat you alive.”

To Nicole’s amazement he reached out and trailed his fingers up her bare arm. So stunned by his audacity, it took her a moment to register the shiver of sensation his touch evoked.

She jerked away, certain her body had reacted so intensely was because of her instantaneous dislike of him and everything he stood for.

“You’re going to cop lies and abuse from people who won’t want your help, delinquent youths who the moment your back is turned are back on the streets dealing and using again. And what about the battered wives who return to their abusive husbands with their children the moment you think you’ve gotten through to them. Will you be able to handle the heat, hmm?”

“Why are you saying all this?” Nicole was at a complete loss as to why he would bother coming out here to harass her when he had the beautiful Trisha to drool over inside.

“It’s a jungle out there, and I wonder if you have what it takes,” he said bringing his hand to her hair. She felt his fingers sliding into the thick russet curls at her nape.

“You’re unbelievable!” she cried. “How would you know if I have what it takes to do anything?” She reached to grab hold of his wrist to wrench it free of her heir, but he anticipated her action, taking hold of her hand instead. Nicole watched in stunned disbelief as he bought the back of her hand to his mouth.

Something totally unexpected happened when she felt his lips against her skin, lips that were neither cold nor hard. A trail of fiery sensation radiated all the way up her arm. It continued to pulse through her veins as he slowly turned her hand over.

Wide eyed, she stared at his striking profile, at the way the long shiny wing of ebony hair dropped across his brow and brushed against her skin where he held her small pale hand trapped in his larger, darker ones.

Nothing like this had ever happened to her before, and for a moment the rest of the world ceased to exist. Nicole even forgot how much she disliked him. All she was aware of was the way he caressed her palm with his soft mouth, and the strangely intoxicating effect this had on her.

“I know, Nicole. Believe me, I know what’s out there beyond the posh harbour-side suburbs,” he murmured against her skin. “Such dainty little fingers.” He started kissing them, one at a time. “Such soft perfect skin. You like what I’m doing, don’t you?”

Suddenly reason managed to conquer sweet sensation, and she tried to snatch her hand away, but he held if fast, moving to the next finger.

“No, of course not, you presumptuous creep. Go play your sick games of seduction on somebody else. I’m not interested.”

To her surprise he smiled, his eyes glowing golden like a smouldering fire. They almost scorched her with their intensity as he continued to watch her from beneath long dark lashes, which she noticed were also tinged with gold. It was as though nature had intended them to match the colour of his eyes. Nicole saw at once how he could beguile and seduce with just a look. His eyes were probably the most beautiful she had ever seen.

“What makes you think I’m seducing you?”

“You’re an animal,” she cried, trying to snatch her hand away once more, but he held it fast, shifting closer so that his handsome face was only centimetres from her own.

“If I were to seduce you, you’d know about it, but I won’t. Want to know why?”