Jayne Bauling - Ransacked Heart

‘And what are you planning to do about Nicky Kai?’ he asked her very softly.

‘I gave up worrying about Florian’s women years ago,’ she responded automatically, her cynicism where Florian’s personal affairs were concerned so complete it had almost become tolerance. ‘Not that I was aware that there was a problem there. Mr Scott——’

‘Then maybe you should start again,’ he cut her short. ‘Nicky honed her fighting skills in the toughest business in the world, modelling in Paris and New York, and she’s not ready to move on yet.’

It distracted Maria from the attack she had intended to launch.

‘I’m not here to steal Florian from Nicky.’ It was scathing.

He shrugged indifferently, but contempt lurked in his eyes.

‘Then perhaps you don’t mind sharing, the way you once shared him with the little South African girl who was having such a miserable pregnancy when I was there trying to breathe some life into that Johannesburg radio station six years ago.’

Stunned, Maria drew a sharp little breath. Then her face hardened.

‘Is that why I lost my job?’

‘You lost your job because the station was losing money and you were superfluous.’ It was brutal, devoid of apology. ‘There was no discipline, and too many niches had been conveniently created for too many friends, lovers and other attachments. You were a financial drain.’

She laughed sceptically. ‘And I suppose you’re going to tell me that the manner in which I was dismissed was standard procedure?’

‘Desperate situations require desperate remedies. But why is it still important? Parting you from Jones that time doesn’t seem to have curtailed your ongoing little adventure—not that I thought it would.’

‘That job was the adventure,’ she remembered, but he had deprived her of so much more than just adventure.

‘Somehow I suspect that emotion is clouding your memory of that period,’ Luke returned incisively. ‘Jones was very much part of the adventure. Wherever he was, there you would be, hanging around even when you weren’t on duty——’

‘I was learning about radio!’ Maria cut in furiously.

‘You even tagged along to that concert in Harare when he was one of the compères,’ Luke recalled.

Maria’s eyes glowed amber, and hostility held her rigid outwardly. Inside, she was shaking with rage.

‘And that’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? The way I was dismissed? It had nothing to do with whether I was redundant or not. You’d passed judgement on my morals and decided to punish me for something you could only have had the vaguest idea about. I’d just like to know from what sort of position you assumed the right to do so, Mr Scott. Have you led such a pure life yourself?’ Smouldering now, her eyes strayed significantly in Cavell Fielding’s direction.

Disgust made his lip curl.

‘Probably not so pure, but at least I’ve stayed clear of triangles,’ he retorted flatly.

‘Lucky you!’ she mocked.

‘Luck hasn’t come into it,’ he contradicted her arrogantly. ‘Just good judgement.’

Her laughter was taunting. ‘I didn’t see much evidence of it when you were dealing with me!’

‘No, I didn’t misjudge you, Maria. There was no chance of my doing so, the way you were flaunting your relationship with Jones—and you haven’t learned a thing since then,’ Luke added contemptuously. ‘You got together again in Sydney a few years ago, I’m told, and here you are a third time. I didn’t think you’d be that stupid, but I was curious enough to consent when Jones brought your name up with Giles Estwick when we started thinking about looking for a new programme manager six months ago.’

‘What a shock for you when I accepted the position,’ Maria snapped. ‘What are you going to do now? The contract I signed legally binds the station as much as it does me. I suppose you weren’t around and you realised too late what had happened.’

He laughed. ‘But I wanted it to happen. I have plans for you, Miss Maria McFadden. Haven’t you realised yet?’

She didn’t want to understand him, but heated recognition rippled through her as she stared at his mouth, as unwillingly fascinated by its sensual curve as she had been six years ago, when all her breathlessly adored heroes had suddenly become prosaic and petty with the advent of the man from Hong Kong.

‘What do you want?’ It wasn’t the question she had meant to ask.

Instead of answering it, he gave her an ironically considering look. ‘You’ve got a lot more to say for yourself these days, haven’t you?’

She flung him a savage little smile. ‘Does remembering how awed I was give you a thrill? Was it an affirmation of your power? I was nineteen—of course I was in awe of you. I’d never met anyone like you, and the fact that there was a rumour that you were newly in mourning for your father just added to the mystique, because I was young enough to find tragedy romantic.’

For a time she had even innocently believed that Luke’s father’s recent death had been responsible for the anger she had sensed in him, until she gradually grew aware that it was something personal, directed at her, his dealings with most of the station’s personnel characterised by charm, his impatience with any inadequacies purely professional.

‘Hardly in mourning,’ Luke asserted distastefully, his features hard with something akin to rejection. ‘The man had died and I was getting on with my life.’

‘Oh, yes, I’ve realised since that you weren’t like the rest of us ordinary human beings who are unfortunate enough to be troubled by feelings like grief and guilt.’ It was bitterly resentful, her hatred burning high as she remembered the months running into years that it had taken for her to convince herself that the guilt she had felt after her own father’s death was a self-destructive trap and just one more wrong done to her by Luke Scott. ‘But I was an innocent in those days. There you were, come to save our pathetic little radio station, and just about the first thing you did was scoop that concert in Harare, and at the height of the cultural boycott, because you’d emphasised our independent nature. We were actually presenting it in conjunction with that soft-drinks company, our three best DJs the compères.’

‘And you came along for the ride?’

‘Since Florian could hardly have taken his wife with him when she was so sick all the time.’

‘I understand that he’s still married to her?’

A shadow crossed Maria’s face. ‘Yes.’

Luke’s mouth curved derisively. ‘It didn’t bother you six years ago, so why should it now? Nicky Kai doesn’t mind.’

She flung up her head, rage blazing in her eyes. ‘You seriously believe it, don’t you? That I was having an affair with Florian? And that I want to get together with him again now?’

‘Not forgetting your reunion in Sydney.’ He shrugged expressively. ‘Why not, if the two of you are so good together? You were congratulating yourselves on the fact earlier, I know.’

It took her a moment or two to realise what he was referring to and remember Florian’s words out on the balcony.

‘Eavesdropping!’ she accused him caustically.

There was something cruel about his smile now. ‘Don’t worry—any more intimate reminiscences escaped me, as I discovered a strong disinclination to hear the sordid details of your relationship.’

‘Then why raise the subject now?’ Maria countered. ‘You can’t have any real scruples about our supposed affair or we wouldn’t be working for you, so I can only assume that you’re making this personal attack for the sheer hell of it, because you once got a kick out of disapproving of me—despising me—and you’re trying to recapture the thrill of it all.’