Socialite's Gamble

Of course he could just leave her where she was and continue lunch without her. He didn’t require her to be at the table. That didn’t matter. She had agreed to meet him and he was a man who kept his word and expected others to do the same.

Cara was in heaven. It was market day in the island village and all the locals had their wares on display on cloth-covered tables. Having finished wandering around the primary school and noting down her observations Cara couldn’t resist meandering amongst the tables with some of the schoolchildren trailing after her, chatting and holding her hand.

She couldn’t wait to give Aidan her notes to show him that she was more than just a pretty face, which by his comments earlier was all he thought she was.

Smiling she picked up a gorgeous sarong.

Aidan had been right about her being able to lay low on the island. The locals had no clue who she was, or didn’t care, and the other guests were busy relaxing or at the conference. Of course her problems hadn’t magically disappeared in the warm tropical air—such a pity—but she had no intention of interrupting her good mood by thinking about the future right now.

‘You like to buy one?’

An older, matronly woman with frizzy hair voiced the question and Cara found herself testing the quality of the fabric she held in her hand. It was excellent.

‘Yes, actually.’ She dipped into the small leather purse she wore diagonally across her body. The colour would perfectly match Cilla’s eyes. ‘The colour and texture of the fabric is really beautiful.’

‘My daughter, Jenny, makes it herself.’ The woman smiled proudly.

Cara smiled back. It surprised her how friendly everyone was. How much they liked to chat.

Especially if the topic was Prince Aidan. It seemed that the man could do no wrong in their eyes. And Cara had to admit that she was pretty impressed to find out that Aidan put 80 per cent of the profits made by the resort back into the village to provide for the locals. Apparently his view was that this was their island and they were bestowing him a gift by letting him share it with others. Something she hadn’t expected from a billionaire businessman who had showed no remorse in trying to ruin Martin Ellery the other night. No remorse until the end, that was.

Without warning she remembered the flash of pain she had thought she’d seen in his eyes when he’d been talking about Martin Ellery and she wondered at it. She had been able to pick up that the animosity between the two men went back a long way but it was obviously a touchy subject because twice she had asked about it and twice she had been instantly closed down for her trouble. Not that she would have expected Aidan to open up to her because she was a stranger but still … she was a stranger he had kissed. A stranger he had touched.

Feeling a now-familiar ache low down in her body whenever she remembered how it felt to be in his arms Cara tamped down on her thoughts. Being attracted to Aidan Kelly only proved her sister’s theory that she really was attracted to men who were only interested in short-term liaisons.

Better to think of him as a friend—if even that—and forget all about how stupidly gorgeous he was. He wasn’t for her and she’d promised herself a year ago that once she found out a guy wasn’t right for her, then she’d move on.

And really, she should be glad nothing was going to happen between them because her life was too messed up right now to complicate it even more by imagining that this fake relationship was even a real friendship.

It wasn’t.

They were two people who had met by chance and who would be going their separate ways after tomorrow. And she couldn’t have been happier. It would be one less person judging her and finding her lacking in some way.

Realising that the older woman was still chatting, and that she had completely lost the thread of the conversation, Cara tuned back in.

‘Jenny also works with the Fijian black pearls. Would you like to see them?’

‘I’d love to.’

The woman reached beneath the table and pulled out a large beat-up metal box. When she opened it Cara’s breath caught. Inside, laid out in velvet-lined sections, were clusters of pearls of all sizes and colours ranging from the deepest black to gunmetal grey and an amber brown that defied description. Most of them were delicately strung together with the finest leather strips that were a perfect foil for the shiny pearls.

‘Oh, my gosh, these are amazing. Can I touch them?’

‘Of course. I not put them out yet until Jenny arrives.’

Cara reached into the box and pulled out a bracelet of three pearls strung side by side and separated by tiny knots in the fine leather cord. The jeweller had twisted sections of the leather in such a way that it didn’t detract from the centrepiece. The effect was effortless and visually stunning.