He turned away, stared out into the night. “I told myself you had changed. I thought I had found a woman who was special…one of a kind. But you are even more treacherous than your sister. Your betrayal was calculated to-”
“No, I didn’t mean-”
“Be silent.” He cut her off. Moving to the door, he added, “I will find somewhere to spend the night. By morning I want you gone. And don’t return. Because I never want to see you again.”
In the slanting morning light Gemma packed her bags, her heart aching, but she had a frightening suspicion that her heartbreak served her right. She’d called reception and been told that a ferry would be leaving in twenty minutes. If she hurried she could catch the boat to the mainland.
Angelo had not come back to the room since their awful confrontation. She’d waited, huddled on his bed, for him to return.
But he hadn’t.
The message was clear. She had to accept that it was over. He did not want to see her. That to him her betrayal was worse than Mandy’s had been.
Downstairs, the reception lobby was bustling. Gemma waited in an alcove for the shuttle to the ferry to arrive. The mural of a golden-haired sun god driving his fiery horses across the sky brought a bittersweet lump to her throat. She’d ventured too close to the heat and been badly burned.
But she would survive.
“Gemma?”
She turned at the sound of her name and her heart sank when she saw Jean-Paul. He examined her, his eyes searching for she knew not what, while a frown creased his brow.
“What?”
“You are Gemma?” It was the question that only yesterday she would’ve dreaded.
“Yes, I am Gemma.”
“But you are not the woman I-” he paused “-once knew intimately.”
Jean-Paul had worked it out. Probably as a result of her slip the other day. She released the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. “No.”
“You’re a dead ringer for her. She has to be your twin.”
Rage surged through the pain. “Dead is what she is. And it’s all your fault.”
An ugly expression came over his face. “You breathe one word to Apollonides and I’ll tell him the truth. That you’ve been deceiving him, laughing behind his back. You said that you’ve forgotten the past. That’s how you’ve explained away not knowing things you should.”
Behind him Gemma glimpsed the doorman who had offered to call her when the shuttle came, coming towards them. It was time. She rose. “Do your worst, Jean-Paul. Angelo already knows.”
And she walked away leaving Jean-Paul staring after her, his jaw slack.
From the hilltop above the resort Angelo watched the ferry pull away, white water churning in its wake. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his windbreaker.
Gemma was gone.
His mouth twisted. He’d told her to leave, and she’d obeyed. So why did he feel no better?
The wind caught at the windbreaker and ruffled at his hair. He didn’t notice. He narrowed his eyes against the sun and followed the course of the ferry until, a long time later, it disappeared from sight.
Then he started down the hill. A police helicopter approached from the mainland, making for the heliport.
Good. The police had organised a search warrant after his tip-off. Angelo couldn’t wait for them to search the man’s room and arrest Moreau. He suspected it would be a long, long time before the man frequented any resorts.
Just as it would be a long time before he forgot about Gemma.
Eleven
It was humid in Auckland in December. Gemma returned to her parents’ home after a morning’s Christmas shopping with her mother and made for the bathroom clutching the box she’d bought at the pharmacy. In less than five minutes she had the answer she’d dreaded.
“Mum,” she staggered out the bathroom. “This is going to be a shock.”
“What’s wrong, darling?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Are you sure?”
Gemma nodded and held up the indicator stick.
“Oh.” Her mother looked like she wanted to say something. Finally she asked, “Do you know who the father is?”
“Of course I do.”
“But you’re not telling?”
Gemma gave a laugh. To her own ears it sounded hysterical. “I will when I’m ready.” She wrapped her arms around her mother. “You shouldn’t be so understanding.”
Her mother hugged her back. “How can I not be? Do you know how far along you are?”
“Not far at all. I missed a period, that’s what clued me in. I’ve always been so regular.”
“Go see your doctor. You may not be pregnant at all. Perhaps your body is just playing tricks on you after the long flight.”
“I’ve been back almost two weeks-it’s unlikely to be the flight.”
Beth Allen shook her head. “But the pill makes the chance of it happening so remote.”
“Except I haven’t been on the pill for a while. There was no one in my life, so there seemed little point. He used protection. Something must have gone wrong. I’ll go see the doctor, but I doubt it will change things.” Deep in her heart Gemma was already sure. “Mum, I should tell you. The father is-” She broke off.
“Yes, darling?”
Gemma swallowed. “It’s Angelo Apollonides.”
Her mother’s hand came up to cover her mouth, but no sound escaped. But her eyes were wide and dismayed as she stared at Gemma. Then she stepped forward and hugged Gemma. “You can tell how it came to pass when you’re ready.”
They stood like that for a long while, holding one another, and Gemma drew support from her mother’s warmth. At last she said, “Thanks, Mum, for your support.”
“Your father and I will always be there for you and the baby.”
“I know. But I need to you to understand one thing, Mum. Angelo wasn’t responsible for what happened to Mandy. It was another guy, Jean-Paul Moreau. I think Mandy loved him, and he rewarded her by making her into an addict. I hope he burns in hell.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I have to tell you that is a relief to hear it wasn’t your Angelo.”
Later Gemma went home to the apartment she’d rented out while she went to Greece. It seemed strange to be living in the middle of the city after the time she’d spent on Strathmos.
Gemma made a pot of weak herbal tea and poured herself a mug. She intended to cut down on caffeine for the next nine months, that meant less tea and coffee.
Taking the mug she made her way to the dining-room table. She lay her hand on her flat stomach and thought about the baby. About the future. And about Angelo.
The phone interrupted her thoughts. It was her agent, thrilled with an offer for Gemma to perform at a brand- new Australian resort.
“It’s the chance of a lifetime,” Macy was gabbling. “The money is great and it’s for six months. You get star billing. You’d be mad to let this pass.”
Gemma considered it. The sum would wipe out the debt on her credit card; help her start the baby’s life on much more stable footing. She could sublet the apartment while she was gone, that would give her a nest egg. But she couldn’t take the job for the full six months. She’d be showing by then and she’d want to slow down.
