Bond of Fate Read online

  As it was, she had to fall in with Julian's suggestion that they spend the afternoon by the pool, just taking things easy. Celia could swim if she wanted to, and Melanie could relax in the sun.

  It did occur to Melanie that she might be able to have a word with Julian while Celia was in the pool and unable to hear what was said, for she could see no other opportunities occurring in the near future now that he had given his word to Celia that there would be no more business calls taking up his time.

  There was no hope of a quiet talk when Celia had gone to bed either. The evenings were spent either watching the television, usually only for the news, then she would settle down for a game of chess with her father, and it was usually around ten when a halt was called, by which time Melanie was ready for bed herself. For appearances' sake, she had had to spend her evenings with them, settled in a corner of the lounge with a book to keep her company, and since her last interview with her employer, most of her time would be spent in going over those harsh accusations of his, no matter how much she tried to forget them and concentrate on the story. As if that weren't

  enough, she now had another even more devastating occurrence to add to her memories!

  She chose a time when Celia was down at the other end of the pool and set on completing a four-lengths' run, and Julian had settled down with a paperback thriller.

  'I want to talk to you,' she said quietly, keeping her eyes on Celia's progress, but she glanced quickly at Julian as she said this, and saw his brows rise a fraction at her low voice. 'I think it would be better in both our interests if I left your employment as soon as possible,' she went on. 'And under the circumstances I hope you won't ask for a month's notice. Two weeks should be ample,' she added firmly.

  Melanie now had Julian's full attention, and his eyes narrowed to a slit as he studied her. 'Given up already, Mrs Cridell?' he asked softly.

  Melanie's cheeks flamed at the innuendo. 'If that's the way you want to see it, then yes !' she got out furiously. 'Aren't you relieved?' she demanded pithily. `All my well-laid plans have come to nothing, I'm throwing in the towel.'

  `You'll do no such thing!' Julian replied harshly. `You signed an agreement, remember? You go when I say you go, and not before.' His voice took on a silky note. 'Besides, I'm quite content with things as they are,' and he shot a quick assessing look at the fuming Melanie. 'I'm also a little disappointed in you. I didn't expect you to give up so easily,' he added.

  Melanie stared straight ahead of her. Her cheeks had turned from red to blanched white with shock. She felt like shaking her head. She must be imagining all this. He was actually implying—she swallowed. She wouldn't think about that, she decided. She'd probably got it wrong anyway; he was playing with

  her. 'Oh, I know when I'm beaten,' she managed to get out. Two could play at that game, she thought.

  `And you think you've earned your money ?' he asked icily.

  Melanie's small hands clenched into fists. She wished she could hit him. He really did punch low, didn't he?

  `I've saved enough from my wages to tide me over,' she replied through clenched teeth. 'You can keep the rest,' she flung at him, and felt a rush of relief as she said this. She hadn't wanted his money anyway; she would cope somehow.

  `Temper, temper,' he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice, as if calming an hysterical child. `Why don't you have a rethink about the whole matter when you're calmer?' he suggested.

  Celia was on her last lap of the pool, and Melanie knew it was now or never. 'I don't need to rethink,' she said angrily. 'I'm giving a fortnight's notice.'

  `And I meant what I said,' replied Julian with maddening calm. 'For Celia's sake, I advise you to accept my decision. She's had enough to put up with from her mother's tempestuous nature, and I've no intention of putting her through anything like that again. She's very fond of you, as I'm sure you know. Just let things take their course,' he added. 'It will all work out in time.'

  Melanie felt she hadn't got that time! If he was only worried about Celia—but then Celia was beside them, receiving her father's congratulations on her fast timing. 'We'll have you swimming for England at this rate,' he said teasingly.

  Celia accepted this tribute with wide grin. 'Haven't time for the Olympics,' she said, slightly breathlessly, as she flung herself down beside Melanie.

  After dinner that evening, Melanie excused herself on the plea of tiredness, and left Celia and her father to their own devices. She couldn't possibly sit calmly in her corner of the lounge pretending to read a book, not after that talk with Julian, and certainly not with the sort of searching, speculating way he watched her now.

  Her decision for an early night was accepted without question, by Celia at least, but Julian had shot her a quick, assessing look that annoyed her, and she was sure that if it hadn't been for the morning's events, he would have insisted on her presence.

  He must think that she was a wax doll with no feelings at all, she fumed as she made her way to her room, thankfully closing the door firmly behind her. After what he had hinted, she was inclined to place a strong chair against it, as there was no lock to ensure safety.

  She stopped suddenly in the middle of the room. What on earth was the matter with her? She was in no danger of being molested by Julian Cridell, now or at any time. She shook her head. This wasn't like her. Where was her normally calm outlook? Julian Cridell had happened, that's what! she told herself. She had let him get to her, just as he had mesmerised all those other women.

  Her soft lips tightened, it was so easy for him, with those good looks of his, to turn a woman's head, but not this one, she vowed silently. She had better get a hold on herself right here and now before any of that kind of nonsense crept in.

  Melanie walked over to her bed and sat down on it. She had been right in one thing. He had decided to keep her on just as she had suspected he would, simply for convenience's sake. He was not the kind of man

  who would worry about his jet set friends' reactions to the swift ending of his 'marriage', and that was including the bogus pregnancy! All he need say was `false alarm', and the rest was history. The only thing that would surprise them, Melanie thought sceptically, would be the longevity of the marriage.

  This was what was worrying Melanie. Why should he seek an annulment when he was content with things as they were? He had company for Celia and a shield against women like Mrs Dalton, not to mention Podge's mother, and a few others she could think of.

  There was also the bald fact that his first marriage had soured his whole outlook on connubial bliss and, as he had so adamantly stated, he had no intention of repeating the experience.

  Melanie took a deep breath. It was no use getting worked up about it. All she could do at this time was to take Julian Cridell's advice. She had stated her wishes in the matter, and if it had done nothing else, it had shown him that she had a mind of her own, and she was certainly not going to put up with any more chauvinistic displays on his part. He could have had a discreet word with Celia, who did know the score, and she could have helped her in the bathroom, thus saving Melanie from the most embarrassing experience of her life.

  From now on, she vowed, she would keep her distance from Julian Cridell, and hope that the holiday didn't last longer than a fortnight, for it would be easier for her to detach herself from his company once they were back home, when he would take up his commercial life again; then, with any luck, there would only be the weekends to cope with.

  As Melanie had come to a decision, so had Julian,

  and it was exactly the opposite of Melanie's, for at breakfast the following morning he calmly stated that he intended to teach Melanie to swim.

  Melanie was furious. If anyone was going to teach her to swim, it would be Celia, that was if she decided to learn! Her belligerent glare at Julian expressed her feelings in no uncertain way. `I'm not sure that I want to learn,' she said angrily.

  `Oh, but you must!' said Celia quickly. 'If Dad hadn't arrived in time yesterday, you
'd have drowned, you know,' she added seriously.

  Melanie silently noted that Julian had not attempted to alter her decision on this. He didn't believe in wasting his breath. He had decided that she was going to learn to swim, and that was that. She would learn to swim! It was like coming up against a brick wall, she thought, and the sooner she stopped banging her head against it, the better for everyone. It was just a case of if you couldn't beat them, you joined them ! However, Melanie had her own reasons for dissociating herself from the ménage, brick wall or no brick wall. 'I really feel I've had enough of the water to last me for quite some time,' she said firmly, and applied herself to her breakfast in a manner that suggested that that was the end of the conversation.

  She really ought to have known better. There might be a lot that she didn't know about Julian Cridell, but one thing she did know, and that was that he liked his own way. 'Nonsense!' he said crisply. 'You must learn to swim before you develop a fear of the water, so the sooner you start, the better. Celia will keep herself occupied with her books.' He glanced at his watch. `We'll start in about an hour's time,' he announced grandly.

  Melanie, about to swallow some coffee, nearly

  choked at this bald announcement, and was just about to come out fighting when she noticed the way Celia was looking at her father, and her expression showed that she was as nonplussed as Melanie was, but for different reasons. She agreed entirely with her father's decision to force the issue on Melanie's learning to swim, but it was quite plain that she had expected to be included in the instruction, in the role of supporter if nothing else, yet it was equally plain that her father had other ideas.

  It was this last thought of Melanie's that stopped her from arguing against his decision, and gave her a little ray of hope that perhaps he had thought things over and decided to release her from her commitment. With Celia otherwise occupied, they could talk without fear of being overheard, for the pool was well away from the villa and well screened. With these thoughts in mind, Melanie allowed the arrangement to stand, and was glad to note that after the initial disappointment, Celia took it in her stride, advising Melanie just before they set off for the pool that she wasn't to worry, she was in good hands.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JULIAN led the way to the swimming pool, his tall, lithe form clad in swimming trunks, with his towel slung over his tanned shoulders. He strode ahead of Melanie, making her feel like a Red Indian squaw keeping a respectful distance from her brave.

  As soon as they reached the pool, Melanie, who had expected them to sit down to a pow-wow—she was still playing the role of the squaw—was surprised to see Julian throw his towel down on a chair and dive into the water, and with a few expert strokes make his way down to the shallow end where he waited for Melanie to join him, indicating that she should use the steps to enter the water.

  She was not only disappointed that things were not the way that she had hoped, she also felt gauche and foolish, and her temper flared at finding herself once more on the receiving end where this man was concerned. She wondered if he did it deliberately.

  She had almost reached the last step down to the water when her annoyance overcame her earlier submission in allowing him to teach her to swim. 'I've changed my mind,' she said abruptly. 'I don't want to learn to swim,' and she turned to go back up the steps.

  At least, that had been her intention, but she didn't get very far; in fact, she didn't even reach the top step before she found herself hauled back down and into the water by a determined Julian, who kept his hands firmly planted around her slim waist as the movement of the water sent her slightly off balance. 'If you're

  trying to tell me you're afraid of the water, then you'll have to think up a better excuse,' he said softly, his eyes holding her angry ones. 'Cowards don't plunge into raging seas on mercy missions, particularly if they can't swim,' he added pointedly. 'Just catch hold of the side of the pool,' he ordered, as he pushed her gently towards the edge.

  Melanie knew when she was beaten, and was in no position to put up any further opposition to his dictates.

  `Now keep hold of the sides, and let your legs leave the floor of the pool, as if you were lying flat on the floor,' he ordered and, placing his hand against her stomach, lifted her up into position. 'Let the buoyancy of the water support you,' he said.

  Melanie was not too sure about the buoyancy of the water; she had sunk before, hadn't she? She was grateful for his supporting hand.

  `Now start kicking,' he said, 'but keep your legs straight. That's it. Try to keep to a rhythm.'

  After what seemed a very short time to Melanie, she found that she was able to practise this exercise without Julian's supporting hand, and she felt vaguely pleased with herself and a little disappointed when Julian called a halt to the proceedings. 'You've done very well,' he said, 'but that's enough for a start. We'll move on to the next step tomorrow. The main thing is to give you confidence that the water will support you. Now we'd better get back before Celia feels neglected,' he added with a brief smile, as he threw Melanie her towel to dry herself with.

  So much for her hopes that he had changed his mind about letting her go, she thought despondently as she followed him back to the villa. It was as if that earlier conversation had never taken place. She could see no

  chance now of any private tete-a-tete. Celia wouldn't expect to be left behind tomorrow, and she might just as well have come today, Melanie thought.

  In this thought, however, she was proved wrong, for the following morning there was no attempt on Celia's part to accompany them, and Melanie suspected that she had been given her orders to stay behind. Why, she couldn't imagine; perhaps he thought that if Celia were there, Melanie would feel even more gauche than she already felt, but had he but known it she would have welcomed Celia's presence.

  This time, Melanie found herself being presented with a rubber float, and was told to hold on to it and make her way across the width of the pool, her kicking legs providing the impetus for the short journey.

  All went well until she was half-way across the pool, when she suddenly lost a hold on the float, and in her attempts to retrieve it, felt herself sinking to the bottom, arms and legs flailing in a most undignified manner. But her immediate thoughts were not on deportment, only that she was in the middle of the pool and not at the shallow end.

  One minute she was fighting for air, the next she was swept to the surface by a pair of very strong arms, and while she gasped for breath, Julian's voice came close to her cheek. 'I've got you. You're quite safe.'

  It was then she realised they were standing at the shallow end, and Julian's arms were around her, supporting her while she recovered her breath.

  At that precise moment in time, Melanie knew that she loved Julian Cridell. She knew a sensation of wanting to cling to his strong body so close to hers, to receive his love and protection for the rest of her life, but as the thought was there, he stood away from her

  and, picking her up, placed her by the side of the pool, then climbed out himself.

  Melanie felt that she couldn't look at him. If he should even suspect her feelings in that rash moment of hers—she couldn't bear it, and took refuge in raillery. `I do seem to have a habit of living dangerously,' she commented lightly. 'I suppose now we'll have to go back to the drawing board ?' she added, but her voice shook a little, not so much over her unexpected ducking, but over what had ensued afterwards, that sudden surge of emotion towards the man now watching her with those enigmatic grey eyes of his.

  `You panicked, that was all,' he said. 'You should have remembered what I told you about the water supporting you. If you had just gone on holding your arms out in front of you and continued to kick your legs you would have got to the end of the pool without the aid of the float.'

  Melanie managed to give an offhand shrug. 'I'm not a very good pupil, I'm afraid.' She took a deep breath. `Look, I really don't care if I learn or not, and I'm sure you must have better things to do with your time. I'll ju
st keep practising what you've taught me, and go on from there.'

  Julian's grey eyes narrowed. 'Afraid?' he challenged softly.

  Melanie's blue eyes opened wide. Instinctively she knew that he wasn't referring to her fear of water. Had he sensed her feelings earlier? There was a slight flush on her cheeks as she forced herself to meet his eyes. He might have guessed, but he was never going to know for sure. 'Of course not!' she got out indignantly. 'It's just that I feel you're wasting your time, that's all.'

  Julian's eyes continued to bore into Melanie's. 'Am I?' he queried gently.

  Again Melanie was sure he was quite deliberately misinterpreting her words. He had taken advantage of her, of course; she had no experience to fall back on, only her own common sense, although she could rely on that if nothing else. She got up abruptly and, collecting her towel, started to dry herself. 'Well, it's up to you, of course,' she said, in a matter-of-fact voice, 'I've admitted that I'm not a good pupil,' she smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. 'That's a sad thing for a teacher to admit, isn't it? As far as swimming goes, I'm a complete dunce, and that's all there is to it,' she ended flatly as she shook out her damp towel and folded it over her arm as she prepared to leave the pool.

  `Giving up again?' said Julian mockingly, yet there was an underlying hint of annoyance in his voice that didn't escape her.

  He was so used to getting his own way, she thought angrily, that he turned positively mean when crossed.

  `There's a lot to be said for commonsense,' she said quietly, her angry eyes meeting his challenging ones.

  `It depends on which side of the fence you're standing,' Julian said casually, giving her a look that made her go weak at the knees. 'You're the one who's building the fence, but I'm afraid you're going to find that it's not quite as durable as you're hoping it'll be. Nor will any barrier be. Not in the long run.'