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  Aura moved a chrysanthemum flower a few centimetres to the right. She had nothing to fear from Flint because there was nothing he could do to hurt her. She loved Paul, and Paul loved her, and because of that, she was safe.

  Turning her head, she gave Flint a mocking smile. ‘I’m afraid you won’t find very much more about me. Apart from my previous two engagements I’ve lived a fairly dull life. Earnestly middle class, according to my mother.’

  His lashes drooped, hiding the dazzling shimmer of his gaze. ‘If there’s anything to be discovered, I’ll find it.’

  It was stupid to be so alarmed by a simple statement. But in spite of her confidence, Aura’s skin prickled, its tiny hairs pulled upright by an atavistic fear that had no base in logic.

  Carefully not looking his way, holding her shoulders straight and high, she stepped back to survey her work. Perhaps the vase needed another chrysanthemum? She sorted through the flowers.

  ‘Leave it,’ Flint commanded smoothly, ‘it’s perfect. A skilful, disciplined piece of work, with just enough surprises to stop it from being boring.’

  Ignoring the insinuation, Aura shrugged. ‘Thank you,’ she said, infusing the polite words with more than a hint of irony. Quickly gathering up the few flowers remaining, she headed purposefully towards the kitchen.

  ‘You left your wine behind,’ Flint told her helpfully, following her to put the glass down on the bench.

  ‘I don’t drink in the daytime, anyway.’ She began to arrange the blooms in a pottery jug.

  ‘That’s a very womanly skill. Did you take lessons?’

  ‘No.’

  He was lounging against the bench, one hip supporting his lean body, thighs taut as his flat stomach, turning the glass in tanned, long fingers, watching her as though she was something new and intriguing. The impact of his gaze kept her on edge, tightening nerves she had never suspected she had. Outside the rain, dull herald of winter, beat glumly at the windows, washing away the summer and the warm days and cool nights of autumn.

  ‘You surprise me.’ His soft voice sent catspaws of sensation through her. ‘You’re so glossily self-assured, so polished and perfect and finished that I assumed you must have gone to one of those schools in Switzerland where they teach you how to run a mansion and dazzle dowagers and intrigue every man you meet.’

  ‘My mother was sent to one,’ she told him indifferently, ‘but I wasn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘My stepfather thought it would be wasted on me.’

  At eighteen she had been locked in open battle with Lionel Helswell, and she would have gone anywhere that would take her away from him. But he had vetoed the plan, in spite of the fact that the fees would have been taken from her trust fund.

  He’d been able to forbid her the money because Natalie had said airily that she never understood figures, so she’d signed over the responsibility for everything, including the trust fund, to Lionel. And that upright, small-minded, petty man, with his rectitude and his authoritative air and his rigid ideas of discipline, had spent it all on a sordid secret life of gambling and bought women.

  Aura had made sure she understood figures, as well as boring bourgeois things like bank statements and balance sheets.

  ‘Didn’t the adoring cousin come to light?’

  Aura’s shoulders straightened. ‘Alick had nothing to do with it,’ she said crisply.

  ‘But he paid for you to go to university, didn’t he?’ Flint’s voice was unhurried but relentless.

  Aura bit her lip. ‘Yes,’ she said reluctantly.

  As always Lionel had refused any support, so she had let Alick stake her on the understanding that she would pay him back. At a polytechnical college in parklike grounds in the west of Auckland she had begun to study accountancy so she would never be at the financial mercy of any man again. Somewhat to her surprise she had discovered that she liked working with figures and with money; at least it didn’t make emotional demands on her.

  However, before long she had been lured into tackling a double major in information systems and marketing, which she had enjoyed immensely.

  ‘So you spent as long as you could there,’ he said coolly. ‘It took you four years—did you play too much to get your papers in the conventional three?’

  Aura stared at him. Didn’t he know that she had done a double major? No, clearly he didn’t. His vaunted information retrieval system had let him down badly! He probably thought she had frolicked around university looking for a husband. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she had spent most of her time with her nose to the grindstone.

  ‘I enjoyed myself,’ she admitted.

  They had been happy, worthwhile, busy years, full of fun and hard work. She had lived in a succession of small flats with other students close to campus, and during the holidays she had worked long hours to pay Alick back, so she had seen very little of Lionel.

  He had hated the fact that she was out of his control. The thought made her mouth tuck up.

  ‘You have a maddening smile,’ Flint remarked casually. ‘Secretive and dangerous and infinitely alluring. No wonder Paul fell so heavily.’

  ‘We love each other.’ Her voice was cool and devoid of any emotion but confidence. Flint Jansen was a bully, and the only way to deal with bullies was to keep calm and detached. ‘But I’m sure the dossier you have on me must tell you that.’

  ‘No,’ he returned, his eyes narrowed intently beneath the screen of his lashes. ‘It tells me that each man you’ve been engaged to has been richer than the last, and that you dumped each one only after you’d met the next poor fool. Your last ex is still licking his wounds. You and your pretty, conniving, useless mother are on the bones of your backside now, with no money to cushion your fall from grace, so I imagine Paul was a godsend. Rich, adoring, and ready to take on your parasite of a mother, too.’

  ‘I don’t have to put up with this kind of thing,’ she said icily.

  His smile was just as cold. ‘Yes, you do,’ he said with arrogant confidence, ‘because I’m not letting you go until you’ve listened to everything I have to say.’

  Anger bit into her, anger and a deep, clawing fear that shredded the restraint she had worked so hard to build over the years. She said in a voice that trembled slightly, ‘I don’t know why you took such an instant dislike to me—’

  He laughed, a low, harsh sound that ripped at her nerves. ‘Don’t lie, Aura. You know; you’re just not admitting it.’

  Her green eyes flew to meet his. Did that mean—yes, he was looking at her with contemptuous understanding, the corners of his hard mouth curling.

  ‘For exactly the same reason that you took such an instant dislike to me,’ he went on, holding her gaze effortlessly, drowning her in fire. ‘When I looked into those great green eyes with their dancing golden specks and saw the false smile that rested so easily on your delectable mouth, I realised that you’re certainly not in love with Paul. Because you want to go to bed with me, Aura.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Aura flinched as though she had been slapped in her turn.

  ‘You must be the most conceited man I’ve ever met,’ she said, contempt coating every syllable. ‘What the hell makes you think that I’d choose you over Paul?’

  She let her eyes strip him down in a slow, scornful survey, so caught up in her need to convince him that she failed to notice the sudden, dangerous tension on the big body she was insolently undressing with her eyes.

  ‘You might be taller than he is,’ she said relentlessly, ‘but brute force has never interested me much. I look for different things in men.’

  ‘Money, according to your mother.’

  Aura froze. ‘What—?’

  ‘I had lunch with Natalie today.’

  He was speaking softly, consideringly, yet his voice blocked out the sound of the rain outside, the thunder of her heart in her ears. But not the astonishment. Apart from a few select luncheons with close friends Natalie hadn’t been out of t
he unit since they’d moved in. A swift pang of betrayal tore through Aura. Oh, Natalie, she thought wearily.

  That piercing shaft of emotion slipped the leash of her temper. ‘You seem to have a liking for prying and probing and sticking your nose into other people’s business,’ she retorted on a rising note of anger, green sparks glittering in her eyes.

  At least the subject was no longer her unbidden response to his physical maleness.

  His smile was pure mockery. ‘I’m a concerned and caring human being.’

  ‘I’m sure it does you credit.’ Reining in her emotions, she looked him fair and square in the face. ‘What really concerns you? The loss of Paul’s friendship? But you must have known that he would marry one day. Unless you hoped that he had other inclinations.’

  Apparently not in the least upset by the sneering insinuation, his smile turned masculine and predatory. ‘I’m heterosexual, Aura, just as Paul is. As I said last night, if you understand the concept of friendship at all, you should be able to accept that I’d do almost anything in my power to keep him from the clutches of a greedy little tramp who’s been brought up to use her sexy body and beautiful face as a commodity, trading exclusive access to it for money and security.’

  Of course he’d used the word tramp again deliberately, but this time she refused to react. He was some distance away but it was still too close. She saw him even when she wasn’t looking at him, felt his presence at some deep cellular level, and was afraid of her intense awareness. And of the bleak bitterness that submerged her legendary temper.

  Shoving the blue pottery jug to the back of the bench, she said curtly, ‘If that’s what you think of me, it’s no use my trying to convince you otherwise. I’m going now.’

  It was a retreat. Craven, cowardly, yet she knew that she was doing the right thing. Flint’s presence sent every nerve in her body dancing a crazy jig. He had threatened her, and she was going to run away; Aura had never backed down in her life before, but instinct warned her that she was at a disadvantage when it came to dealing with this man.

  Half-closed eyes gleaming golden slivers, he said, ‘I thought the caterers were coming to prepare for tonight.’

  She bit her lip. ‘You could let them in.’

  His smile was arrogantly outlined. ‘I could, but I’m sure they need instructions.’

  Of course they did. Aura’s mouth tightened as she nodded.

  With no more than a hint of cynical amusement in his tone, he said, ‘Finish your drink, and after you’ve told them what to do I’ll take you home.’

  Fortunately they turned up then, and after ten minutes’ consultation Aura was able to leave. To her dismay Flint insisted on driving her back, but at least he didn’t initiate any conversation. Not that his silence soothed Aura’s stretched nerves or eased the panic that crawled like an obscene beast beneath her brittle composure, but she was grateful for it, nevertheless, and even more grateful to find that Natalie was still out.

  He didn’t come in and she closed the door with a relief that left her weak and shaking. The shrill jangle of the telephone made her jump; her hand shook as she picked up the receiver and her cousin’s deep, pleasant voice almost brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘You sound beleaguered,’ he said. ‘Is Natalie playing up again?’

  ‘No.’ She swallowed the hot words of complaint that came to her lips. She was grown-up now, and Alick had other loyalties. ‘I think I must be indulging in that well-known syndrome, bride’s nerves,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful.

  ‘You’re entitled. Would you like Laurel to come over?’

  ‘No, I’m just being silly. Have you arrived, or are you still in Kerikeri?’

  ‘We got to the apartment ten minutes ago. What time do you want us to pick you up?’

  Automatically Aura began to refuse, but Alick was accustomed to getting his own way, and when she hung up she had agreed to go the party with them.

  Almost immediately afterwards Natalie came in, sleek and laughing. Aura wanted to fly at her and demand that she stop seeing Flint, stop talking so freely to him, but of course she didn’t. Natalie had every right to go where she wanted and see who she wanted.

  Anyway, the lunch was a milestone. At last Natalie was breaking out of the lassitude that had held her victim for so long.

  But Aura wasn’t able to banish her uneasy apprehension. She had managed to change the direction of Flint’s thoughts this afternoon, but only because he had let her. He was going to spoil these weeks before the wedding with his hateful insinuations and his shrewd, too accurate understanding of how her mind worked.

  Still, she had coped with Lionel Helswell; she could cope with Flint Jansen. The thought didn’t exactly cheer her, but it did summon a militant sparkle to her great eyes.

  All too soon it was time to get ready. Aura chose a black georgette skirt she had had for years and a black silk blouse of about the same vintage. With it she teamed a jacket the green of her eyes, and a pair of Chanel earrings.

  ‘I don’t know why you won’t buy something new,’ Natalie complained. ‘Honestly, Aura, you’re taking this economy drive too far. It’s just ridiculous. When you’re married Paul will pay for your clothes—why not now?’

  ‘Humour me,’ Aura returned with a tight smile.

  ‘Oh, you’re impossible,’ her mother wailed. ‘At least you could have bought something to wear tonight.’

  ‘I have got new clothes—’

  ‘Nothing really chic!’

  ‘There’s not a great call for chic on a tropical beach.’

  Natalie sighed ostentatiously. The sound of a car drawing up outside did little to brighten her expression. Natalie didn’t like Alick, and had no time at all for Laurel, his wife.

  However, she showed no signs of her dislike when they came in, and after the greetings they set off, to all intents a very cheerful party. Except that behind Aura’s laughter there was a dark cloud which had settled into place the first time Flint Jansen looked into her eyes.

  In spite of her forebodings the party seemed set to go off really well. Paul was his usual charming and hospitable self, everyone was determined to have a good time, and there already existed that indefinable atmosphere which marked off the merely successful party from the one that would be remembered for years.

  It should have been a happy occasion for Aura; this was the first time she had ever acted as Paul’s hostess and she was determined to get it right. But the strain of keeping her eyes away from Flint as he moved around the room, and the fear that somehow he could sense her almost avid interest in him, kept her on edge. There was a mechanical quality to her smile and her greetings, a hidden, unhappy tension that wouldn’t be banished.

  However, he stayed well away from her, not even looking her way, and after half an hour or so she almost relaxed. Until her bridesmaid arrived, cast a look around the room and stiffened, for all the world, Aura thought tartly, like a bird-dog sighting game.

  Jessica moaned, ‘Oh, God, who is the hunk?’

  ‘The best man. Flint Jansen.’ The words were clipped and without expression.

  ‘You mean I get to walk down the aisle beside him? Lucky, lucky me.’ Jessica turned the three words into a lascivious growl. ‘Oh, I love men like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Dangerous as hell. The sort of man who makes you think of pirates and reckless adventurers and arrogant, haughty Regency rakes. A man who expects the world to adjust to him, and gets away with it because we just can’t resist men with that casual, in-built authority. Oh, wouldn’t I enjoy six months on a desert island with him!’

  ‘Nobody,’ Aura observed mildly, ‘would believe that you’re engaged to a man you show every sign of loving. What does Sam say when you drool over men like this?’

  Jessica laughed. ‘Nothing. He knows I’ve never gone from looking to touching.’ She eyed Flint with appreciation that held more than a hint of speculation.

  ‘Isn’t he worried that you might?’


  Her best friend snorted. ‘When would I get the time? Building up a modelling agency doesn’t leave me any time for playing around, believe me. Besides, I love Sam, even if he is always off on business trips. Flint Jansen is not the sort of man it’s safe to love, or even play with. He has a distinctly untamed look, and I’ll bet he’s hell on his women.’

  ‘I bow to your superior knowledge,’ Aura snapped.

  Jessica looked sagaciously at her. ‘Does Paul know you’re a virgin?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good.’Jessica hesitated, then said cautiously, ‘You know it doesn’t always work out perfectly the first time, don’t you?’

  Touched, Aura laughed. ‘Yes, mother hen. I know quite a lot about it, actually. I haven’t exactly had my head stuffed under a pillow since I grew old enough to read novels and magazines.’

  ‘Theoretical knowledge is not the same as the real thing, but you’ll be all right. Paul’s a dear, and he’s not going to rip your clothes off and take you in a storm of uncontrollable passion.’ Jessica’s eyes moved from Paul’s face to that of the man beside him. ‘But I’ll bet his best man could, if he felt like it.’

  Something hungry and feral moved in the pit of Aura’s stomach. Appalled by her body’s betrayal, she said, ‘He looks very self-possessed to me. Not the sort to lose his head.’

  ‘Yep, but imagine if you were able to breach those barriers. Wow!’

  Abruptly, Aura said, ‘Sometimes you talk an awful lot of rot.’

  ‘True.’ As though compelled, Jessica’s eyes followed Flint around. ‘You know, he’s just gorgeous. That scar really does something, doesn’t it. I wonder how he got it.Not that it matters—it’s terribly evocative and buccaneerish. I wonder if he’d be interested in modelling. He moves like a dream, too. If the camera likes him he’d be perfect.’

  For some reason the suggestion irritated Aura. ‘He’s too busy haring off around the world saving Robertson’s from assorted villains who want to snitch some of their profits. Come on, Mrs McAlpine is looking a little lost.’