‘Off to begin the tour?’ she said, pretending to yawn. ‘Sitting around the pool would be much more fun,’ she said to them.
‘Maybe later,’ Destiny said, in the sort of placatory voice she used with her children on the compound whenever they asked for something that was patently out of the question. It was the age-old delaying tactic of saying in a minute, when a child asked for another glass of juice. And as with a child, it worked, because Stephanie shrugged and grinned and disappeared with a cheerful, Well, see you both later then over her shoulder.
What on earth did Callum see in Stephanie? The enigma was enough to bring home to her just how lacking in experience she was. Oh, very experienced when it came to using her brains, and very mature in tackling the day-to-day rigours of living in a jungle, but as green as God’s grass when it came to the emotional side of her life.
For goodness’s sake, she was still a virgin! She and Henri had indulged in some light-hearted fondling, but she, for one, had never felt any urge to carry the fondling through to its natural conclusion. Maybe he had. Or maybe, she thought, he, like Callum, was really only interested in women who acted like women and not women who were as independent as they were themselves. It was a depressing conclusion. She would never be harbouring these thoughts, she knew, if she hadn’t come to this country, and she glared resentfully at the broad, masculine figure ascending the staircase ahead of her because, like it or not, he was the source of her confusion.
Right now, he was giving her a potted history of the house while she continued to scowl safely from behind. Only when they were at the top of the house did she manoeuvre her features into some semblance of politeness, even though she was too aware of him to find the task easy.
‘I hope,’ he said, turning to her, hands thrust into his pockets, head slightly cocked to one side, ‘that I’m not giving you a load of information that you’re already aware of.’
‘How on earth would I know anything about the history of British architecture?’ Destiny snapped edgily.
‘You seem to know just about everything else. You speak more languages that any woman I’ve ever met; you practise medicine; you teach; you single-handedly fight off marauding tigers and crocodiles that have wandered from your river in search of some human dinner.’
‘It’s not my fault you don’t meet the right women,’ she retorted sarcastically, instantly regretting her outburst, which wasn’t fair because it stemmed from her own sudden lack of self-confidence in her femininity.
‘What are you trying to say? That Stephanie is the wrong woman for me?’
‘No,’ she mumbled, wishing, yet again, that she had controlled her feelings instead of letting him push her into another uncharacteristic response. ‘It’s very interesting finding out about the house. It’s just that knowing about baroque developments in architecture during the Stuart Period isn’t exactly handy when you’re living in the wilds of Panama. Unless,’ she added with a weak stab of humour, ‘I intend puzzling those marauding crocodiles into submission.’
He smiled at her, very, very slowly, and she felt as though she had been touched because his smile was so like a physical caress. Her breathing thickened and she looked away quickly. Stephanie was sunbathing downstairs, and wanting to touch this man in front of her was so shocking and so inappropriate that it took her breath away.
For the next couple of hours she meekly followed him from room to room and tried to pretend that he was no more than a tour guide. It helped if she imagined him as a short, fat, bald tour guide.
She didn’t glance once at him, which wasn’t difficult because there was enough to see in the myriad rooms. From one of them she looked out, and down below she could see the diminutive figure of her stepcousin languidly lying on a poolside deckchair, eyes closed and arms resting over the sides of the chair.
Callum came to stand next to her and immediately the hairs on her arms stood on end.
‘What sort of woman do you think would be right for me, then?’ he murmured, without looking at her.
During his brisk, factual tour, she had managed to keep everything nicely under control, but now she felt every nerve and pulse in her body stirring and making her feel hot and uncomfortable.
‘I think Stephanie’s a lovely person.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
‘You’re engaged to my stepcousin. Of course she’s the right woman for you.’ She didn’t dare look at him, but she could feel that he had turned to her and was looking at her, and she folded her arms. Her fingernails pressed into her skin.