Second Tomorrow Read Free

already there had been hints from his superiors that he would be given the management of a luxury hotel that was to be built on one of the larger islands of the Bahama group.
    Luke turned presently and remarked on some of the yachts, mentioning their owners. Everyone here seemed to own a yacht, mused Clare, thinking of the beautiful vessel belonging to Luke which was moored at his private jetty down-beach from his house.
    The starters came and when they were eaten Phil and Clare got up to dance, the calypsomusic being played by a native combo occupying a flower-bedecked platform at one end of the room. She was suddenly acutely conscious of Luke’s eyes following her. She saw them slide from her face to her figure—to her tiny waist where the turquoise-blue dress she wore fitted snugly before flowing out in an abundance of subtle folds that swayed as she danced. Something stirred within her . . . something she had known before and which angered her. That Luke’s presence and his interest should disturb the serenity of her mind was bad enough; but in addition he had the ability to superimpose his own image upon that of her dead fiancé, almost blotting out the picture she was ever striving to keep before her. She had considered herself immune to the attractions of any man, but she was having to admit that those of Luke Mortimer affected her in a way which created a deep and totally illogical resentment towards him.
    She and her brother returned to the table for the second course. Phil had ordered turtle steak, and Clare grouper cutlets and a salad, while Luke was having a lobster ragout in the shell ‘Newburgh.’ When the meal was over Luke asked Clare to dance and she rose hesitantly, doubting if she could come up to standards which she guessed would be high. She felt his arm come about her, knew the cool touch of his other hand as he took hers. A quiver that was pleasant ran along her spine, while anger filtered into her mind. She wanted to hate him!—wished she could be told she was never to see him again, ever!
    ‘You’re very quiet.’ His voice was strong, as usual, but low, against her ear. She had the impression that his chin was touching her hair—deliberately. Perhaps he was a flirt, and he fancied his chance with her in spite of what he had been told by Phil.
    ‘I was thinking,’ she replied briefly and non-committally.
    ‘About what? Going home?’
    ‘Perhaps,’ she answered with a hint of defiance.
    ‘Phil’s relying on you.’
    ‘He could easily get someone else.’
    ‘Let’s drop the subject,’ he said curtly and they danced in silence until the music stopped. Clare, having managed to follow his steps perfectly, actually enjoyed the dance. He too enjoyed it, if he were to be believed when he said, ‘Thank you, Clare. It was a pleasure to dance with you.’
    She averted her face, telling herself that the embarrassment she felt was due rather to the unexpected compliment than the strangely soft inflection in his voice as he spoke her name. . . .
    Phil suggested they take their coffee in the lounge but no sooner had they sat down than he was called away by one of his staff, and once again Clare found herself alone with Luke. He spoke first, breaking a silence which for Clare was fast becoming awkward.
    ‘You’re not really serious in your intention of going home, are you?’
    ‘I haven’t definitely made up my mind,’ she replied. ‘I did say I was only thinking about it.’ ‘
    It’s morbid to dwell on the past.’ Luke spoke almost harshly, as if he were delivering a stern rebuke. ‘I said each new day is what you intend to make it.
You
wake every morning with the firm intention of being unhappy.’
    ‘You know so much, don’t you?’ she retorted sarcastically.
    ‘I know you’re a fool!’
    She glanced up; their eyes met fleetingly, hers wide, indignant and questioning, his narrowed and inscrutably dark.
    ‘You baffle me,’ she complained and looked away.
    ‘Then that