Liz Fielding - A Secret, A Safari, A Second Chance

‘...thank those of you who have given your time to help my mother and sister organise this amazing auction.’

She wanted to slide from her chair, curl up and hide beneath the table but she was frozen, unable to look away as, oblivious to her presence, he was turning to the lovely young woman standing beside him.

‘Before you all rush to top up your bids,’ he said, ‘I want to introduce Lucy Grainger. Along with her brother Matt, she was a member of my crew. Matt was my first mate, my best mate, a friend, a brother from a different mother, who died last year. This auction is because of his death...’

As he stepped back Kit’s eyes swept the room and for a moment, one brief shocking moment, they came to rest on her.

It was as if he could see through the brown dye to the red curls desperately trying to burst out of the clamped-down chignon. As if he could see through the boring dress to the body that she had once, desperately, thrown at him and which he had caught so deftly.

Relief came as he stepped back to leave Lucy in the spotlight and, as if released from some unseen force field, her breath could finally escape, allowing her body to sag as the tension left her.

‘Eve? Are you okay?’ Martha whispered.

‘I’m a bit warm. The wine...’ She shook her head when Martha suggested some fresh air, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She could slip away as soon as everyone made a move. ‘I’ll be fine.’

She sipped a glass of water as the young woman told the audience about her brother, Matt, a gifted international yachtsman like Kit, who’d hidden an injury so that he could continue competing and, as a result, had become addicted to painkillers. First prescription and then later, when they stopped working, to stronger and stronger drugs bought on the Internet and finally from the streets.

She was young, beautiful, there were tears in her eyes as she spoke of his kindness, his talent, and when she’d finished speaking Kit put his arms around her and held her, giving her a moment to recover before leading her from the stage.

She’d seen photographs of him with a dozen beautiful women, but this was different. There was a tenderness here that had been lacking in those posed shots. This girl was different.

It shouldn’t matter.

He’d been her comfort in a bleak moment, in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t just his recklessness, a complete disregard for his life, that had stopped her from calling him.

It had been a magical evening, a precious moment in a dark time, and she hadn’t wanted to destroy that memory. It wasn’t as if he was going to say, my bad, our child needs a father, marry me. No one did that any more and she’d read about too many cases in which the rich and famous had defended paternity suits through the courts, with every sordid detail aired for the world to salivate over.

She hadn’t needed his money.

She’d had the London flat and divorce settlement, left to her in her mother’s will. She’d had a career—science teachers were in short supply and she would never be short of a job. She and Hannah would be fine.

She’d thought it would be easy. She’d thought she would never see him again.

But there he was.

And it did matter.

‘Give me a hand up, Eve,’ Martha said. ‘I’ve sat too long and seized up, but I’m determined not to be outbid.’

Grabbing the chance to escape, she said, ‘Would you like me to bid for you?’

‘And miss all the fun? Come on. Let’s see how we’re doing.’

There were more people around the bidding forms now, checking to see if they were in with a chance, making last-minute bids. Martha pulled a face and went higher.

‘Is that your limit?’ Eve asked, hoping to get away.

‘My limit and more,’ she admitted. ‘Come on. It’s your turn.’

There were half a dozen bids after hers and while she was looking up at the display someone took it up another two hundred and fifty dollars.

Nymba...

Home.

As she hesitated, torn between longing and reality, there was a movement at the far end of the table as Kit and Lucy arrived to chat to the bidders. There was a crush behind her and, boxed in, unable to escape, she took the pen that Martha was offering her and bent over the form, keeping her head down as she slowly wrote a fresh bid.

Behind her someone began to complain that she was taking too long, dragging it out to stop anyone else bidding. As if...

She surrendered the pen, but her apology was brushed aside as the man pushed past her. Taking a swift step back, she caught her heel in her hem and, stumbling, flung out an arm, groping for something to grab onto and stop herself from falling. There was nothing, she was going down, but then, out of nowhere, a hand grasped hers, catching her, steadying her.

She didn’t have to look to see who had saved her. It was a hand she knew. A callused hand that had scraped over sensitive skin, waking up hitherto unexperienced heights of pleasure and, for a few brief hours, blocking all pain.

For a heartbeat that hand was all that was holding her up, but then a bell was rung for the end of the auction, jolting her back to reality and, as a cheer went up, she recovered her balance.

Keeping her head down, she muttered a hoarse, ‘Thank you...’

No one heard. Kit had been enveloped in hugs, Martha was with friends and, finally, she was able to slip away.

* * *

Kit felt the woman’s hand slip from his grasp in the crush but before he could go after her, make sure she was all right, he was being hugged by someone overjoyed at having made the winning bid for a trip.

He caught sight of her as she hurried away, presumably one of the unlucky ones who’d missed out at the last minute. Relieved that she was okay, he surrendered to the moment, congratulating the winners, all the while unable to shake the feeling that he’d seen something this evening, heard something. Missed something.

‘Kit. It’s good to see you, although not in these circumstances. How is your father?’

Martha Adams was one of his grandmother’s oldest friends and he kissed her cheeks, introducing her to Lucy before answering her question.

‘Frustrated. He’s desperately trying to issue orders, but the words are eluding him.’

‘The speech will come back, but it takes time. I imagine your mother has her hands full.’

‘She’s more than a match for him.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. And how about you? How are you coping?’

‘Brad is doing a great job and Laura is home, helping out. I’m trying to help but if I’m honest I’m just getting in everyone’s way.’ Getting in his brother’s way. While he’d been chasing trophies, Brad had stepped into his shoes, buckling down to learn the business. Now his brother was convinced that Kit had returned to grab back his rightful place. ‘Did you bid on anything tonight, ma’am?’

‘I did,’ she said. ‘I’m going to your spa in Phuket and I couldn’t be more excited. Have you been there?’

‘I stopped over a couple of years ago when I was racing in that part of the world. It’s beautiful and the staff are amazing. You’ll have a wonderful time.’

* * *

Eve was sitting in the shadows on the terrace when Martha carefully lowered herself into the chair beside her with a contented sigh.

‘I’m sorry to run out on you at the last moment, Martha,’ she apologised. ‘Did you win?’

‘I did, thank you, but I saw that man push you out of the way. So rude. Are you all right?’

‘The only harm was the hem of my dress and I’m sure you’d say that was a win. I just needed some fresh air.’

‘Then you’d better take a big breath.’ Martha handed her the folder she was holding. ‘We’re both going on a dream trip. You’re going on safari.’