Cover Page
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Copyright
“I beg your pardon?” What was Cameron talking about? She had never been guilty of being provocative in her life!
“Are you ever true to one person, Julie?”
“I think you’re crazy,” she said sharply. “I think you’re trying to cover up your own weakness.”
Blue eyes narrowed warningly. “Weakness, Julie?”
“Yes, weakness,” she snapped. “Only a man with no self-control would kiss a—a woman who isn’t free!”
Born in the industrial heart of England, MARGARET MAYO now lives with her husband in a pretty Staffordshire canalside village. Once a secretary, she turned her hand to writing her books both at home and in exotic locations, combining her hobby of photography with research.
JULIE found her patience growing thin. Where the devil was Ian? He had promised to meet her. She had stood here for almost half an hour in the searing heat and, apart from a handful of people going about their daily business, the small harbour was deserted.
She heard the Jeep before it came into sight. It sounded as though it was being driven flat out, as though someone was in a great hurry. She watched frowningly as the vehicle came hurtling towards her, as the brakes were slammed on and the Jeep swung around so that it was ready to take off again.
The man who jumped out was much taller and broader than her brother, packed with hard muscle, deeply tanned, with jet-black hair cut brutally short. He looked at her piercingly and questioningly for several seconds, as if he was not entirely sure that she was the person he had come to pick up. ‘Julie Drummond?’ There was something in his tone that sounded odd, and his harsh, frowning face suggested that he was not happy about having to make this journey.
Julie was tall also, but she nevertheless needed to lift her head to look up at this man. ‘Yes, that’s me,’ she declared firmly.
His eyes narrowed on her unnervingly for a second before he growled, ‘Let’s get going.’ He picked up her suitcase and tossed it unceremoniously into the back of the battered Jeep, waited with obvious impatience while she clambered in, and then took off again at the same breakneck speed.
‘I do want to get there in one piece,’ Julie announced testily, bracing herself with both hands. She was already bad-tempered at being kept waiting and this man was putting the fear of hell into her.
A pair of the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen swivelled in her direction. They were the nicest part about him, she decided; the rest of his face was all hard, uncompromising angles. ‘You’re quite safe,’ he told her coldly.
It didn’t feel like it to her. ‘What’s the hurry?’ she questioned.
‘I have other more important things to do,’ came the harsh response.
‘And you object to being sent to pick me up, is that it?’ she asked sharply. ‘Where’s Ian? I thought he was coming?’ This man was totally objectionable. She was dusty and hot and tired, her long black hair clung limply and damply to her head, instead of cascading in its usual riot of waves, and the last thing she wanted was to feel unwelcome.
‘Your husband is stranded on Pinz6n,’ he told her. ‘He should have returned last night but the boat developed engine trouble. He will hopefully be back later today.’
Julie did not like the emphasis he put on the word ‘husband’—almost as though he knew that she was masquerading as Ian’s wife! There was no way he could, of course, unless Ian himself had said something, and that was unlikely; it had to be her conscience. But she touched the wedding-ring she was wearing, twisting it uneasily. It was a cheap one, bought to add credibility to their story, and it did not feel right on her finger.
When her twin brother had first applied for the job as Cameron Storm’s research assistant in the Galapagos Islands he hadn’t realised that the eminent ecologist was seeking a husband and wife team.
‘He apparently needs someone to type out his notes and maintain accurate daily records,’ Ian had told her when he returned from his interview, ‘and also to do the cooking.’
‘A cook?’ Julie had looked at her brother in astonishment. ‘You’re asking me to come with you as Cameron Storm’s cook? Heavens, Ian, that’s not my line at all.’
‘But you are looking for a job; you know you hate being out of work, and you are an accomplished typist,’ he’d pointed out. ‘This means such a lot to me.’
Her brother, also interested in ecology, but nowhere near as experienced and knowledgeable as Cameron Storm, was besotted with the idea of going out to the Galapagos Islands. He had been ever since, as a schoolboy, he’d read about Charles Darwin’s visit there.
Although Ian and Julie were roughly the same height, his hair was not quite so dark, and he had a rounder face and a much stockier figure; they didn’t even look like brother and sister, let alone twins.
‘There’s so much to find out,’ he said to Julie. ‘A short holiday would serve no purpose. I need to be able to live there to do any good.’
They shared the same house in the village of Barlaston in Staffordshire, England, where the great Wedgwood pottery factory was situated. The Wedgwoods and the Darwins had always been great friends and there had been a lot of intermarriage between the two families over the years—Charles Darwin marrying his cousin, Emma Wedgwood, in the 1830s.
It was this vague connection with Charles Darwin and Barlaston that had increased her brother’s interest, even though Charles Darwin had lived in Shrewsbury as a young man. ‘I’ll never get another chance to work with someone as expert and experienced as Cameron Storm,’ he went on. ‘I shall learn so much—it’s fantastic. Please, please say you’ll come.’
‘It could be what I need, I suppose,’ said Julie. In fact, it was the perfect escape, but she wasn’t telling Ian that yet. Immersing herself in a new job and new surroundings would be a great help in trying to forget her bitter break-up with Roger. It was the deceit that troubled her—pretending to be married; she did not like that one little bit.
‘Didn’t you tell Cameron Storm that you and Julie had split up?’ she asked Ian. It was confusing that her sister-in-law had the same Christian name, though convenient for Ian, now that he wanted her to masquerade as his wife.
‘Goodness, no!’ he exclaimed. ‘The man believes in the sanctity of marriage. He thinks it should be for life.’
‘Is he not married himself?’
Ian shook his head.
‘Why? Is he as ugly as sin? Will no one have him?’
‘Hardly,’ laughed Ian. ‘He’s a handsome devil but he’s dedicated to his work. I don’t think he wants the complications of a single girl on the team. Too many of them make a bee-line for him.’
‘So why doesn’t he get a male secretary?’ Julie asked. ‘And a male cook?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Ian tetchily. ‘All I know is that he said the job’s mine if Julie comes with me. But Julie can’t come, can she? So I want you to take her place.’ He gave one of his most appealing smiles. ‘We’re so close, Sis, no one will ever know.’
He was right, they were close; they always had been. More so when their parents had divorced fifteen years ago, when she and Ian were only eleven years old. Oddly, there had never been any indication that there was anything wrong with their parents’ marriage—no arguments, no bad vibes, nothing—until the day their father had upped and gone, and that was the last she and Ian had seen of him.
The break-up had remained a mystery, their mother always maintaining a strict silence about the whole affair, but Julie guessed that her father had gone off with another woman. It was only now that Ian had experienced a similar trauma, and she was trying to deal with her own broken affair, that Julie was learning to understand how much her mother had suffered.
‘What if Cameron Storm finds out I’m not your wife?’ she asked her brother worriedly.
‘How will he?’ he fenced. ‘You’ve both the same name, so there’s no chance of a slip-up there, and although I have met Cameron in the past he’s never met Julie. There’s no possible way he can find out. Oh, please, Sis, my life depends on it.’
He was being overly dramatic, but Julie had been concerned about her twin ever since his wife had walked out. She had actually never felt the other Julie was right for him, but he had been besotted, and before they had known each other three months they were married.
He had never stopped loving her either, she truly was the only girl in the world for him, but her eye had strayed after less than eighteen months of marriage, and Ian had arrived home from work one day to discover that she had run off with his best friend.
He had been distraught and had come to his sister in tears. He had even been prepared to forgive his wife but she had announced that their marriage was over, that she did not love him any more and that she wanted a divorce.
Today was the first time Julie had seen her brother show enthusiasm for anything since—but, even though she felt quite excited herself at the thought of going out to the Galapagos Islands, she was still not convinced that pretending to be her brother’s wife was a good thing to do. Surely honesty would be the best policy?
‘Just think of it as one big, long holiday,’ he urged. ‘You’ll be able to completely forget that swine Roger. You’ll be able to relax totally while we’re out in the field, and I doubt Cameron’s notes will be vast. You’ll be able to sunbathe and swim and generally enjoy yourself.’
Finally she had dispelled her misgivings and agreed, and now here she was, sitting beside this big, irritating man, almost melting with the heat, resenting the fact that he looked as cool and comfortable as it if were springtime in England.
‘And who are you?’ she asked, hoping the whole team wasn’t going to be as hostile. She had envisaged a happy, friendly group of people, had let Ian persuade her that the whole thing would be fun. She could only hope that no one else would be this disagreeable.
She had looked the Galapagos Islands up when her brother had first mentioned them—in the Pacific, all volcanic, belonging to Ecuador, straddling the equator, almost totally a National Park, only of significance to people who were interested in natural history.
Thick brows rose. ‘I’m sorry, didn’t I introduce myself?’ A faint mocking smile curved a mouth that was generously wide. ‘I’m Cameron Storm.’
‘Oh!’ Julie swallowed hard. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘Obviously.’
She tried to think what she had said to him, and hoped she hadn’t jeopardised her brother’s chances.
‘Ian didn’t tell me what a firebrand you were. I have a good team here, Mrs Drummond. I hope you’re not going to disrupt things with your hasty temper?’
There it was again, a veiled reference to her marital status. Julie began to feel worried, but she showed none of it; she had to speak to Ian first. ‘I don’t have a hasty temper,’ she fired back, and then laughed. ‘Standing around for half an hour in this heat isn’t my idea of fun. I’d begun to think Ian had forgotten I was arriving today.’
‘Ian didn’t forget,’ he reassured her. ‘He was desperately worried when he couldn’t get back—you’re a very lucky woman having a man love you so much.’ His eyes were watchful on her face as he spoke. ‘We have a radio system, of course, to keep in touch with each other, and he asked if someone else could pick you up.’
‘You didn’t have to come yourself,’ she pointed out.
‘I was the only man at camp.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you.’ She rested her hazel eyes on him for a brief moment. So this was Cameron Storm, the man her brother deeply admired and respected. Ian had said he was handsome and she couldn’t deny that, but he had failed to tell her that he was an impatient man also, that he didn’t like things that upset his routine, and he certainly wasn’t happy about having to fetch her today.
‘Forget it, Mrs Drummond, it’s done now.’
‘Please, call me Julie.’ The deception, which had always bothered her, was disturbing her more with each second that passed.
‘Here we are.’ He brought the Jeep to a shuddering halt at a campsite set well back on a white sandy beach, brown canvas tents pitched in regimental order.
Julie looked at the scene in complete and utter dismay. ‘Is this it? Is this where we’re to live?’ She was unable to hide her consternation, feeling suddenly let down. Ian could have told her. He had let her come out here without giving her any idea at all that she would be expected to rough it for the next twelve months.
Dark, mocking brows rose. ‘What did you expect, the Ritz?’ And he looked her up and down in her obviously expensive white dress and the totally impractical high-heeled sandals.
Her eyes flashed. ‘No one told me.’
‘Then blame Ian, not me,’ he retorted. ‘Let me show you your tent.’
Most of them were open-sided, but the one he took her to in the far corner was thankfully enclosed and would afford her some degree of privacy—until she poked her head inside and saw Ian’s possessions! She almost blurted out there and then that she and Ian weren’t married, only the fact that she knew her twin would be furious stopping her. She had already done enough damage by speaking to Cameron Storm as though he was a nobody.
‘I’ll leave you to get settled,’ he said, a touch of humour lurking on his lips.
Julie looked into the intent blueness of his eyes, and to her utter, utter astonishment felt a faint pull of atttraction. Lord, what was happening? Something like this would be fatal; it would completely ruin her brother’s chances of staying here and furthering his career.
Besides, she had come out here to get over Roger, not to trip headlong into another relationship. Her chin came up. ‘And then what?’ She did not realise how aggressive her voice sounded.
An eyebrow slid smoothly upwards. ‘Nothing much for today. I’ll show you the tent I use as an office and when Raul, our present cook, returns you will be able to see how things are run in the kitchen.’
Julie frowned, a suspicion dawning. ‘How many am I expected to cook for?’
‘Why, all of us.’ He looked surprised at her question.
‘And how many is all of us?’
‘At the moment about twenty.’
‘Twenty?’ she echoed. ‘I didn’t know that; it wasn’t the impression I got. I actually thought, naive as it seems, that you’d rented a house and needed a cook-cum-typist.’
He gave a bark of laughter, and it was surprising how it softened the harsh lines of his face and made him look more human. ‘Actually you’re half right. You, Ian and myself are moving to Isla Fragata, or Vulcan Island as it is more commonly known.’
‘Just the three of us?’ she asked cautiously.
‘Yes.’ He grew serious again. ‘It should prove very—interesting, from many points of view. Ian is very eager to learn, but—’ his tone sharpened ‘—his success depends upon you.’
Julie frowned. ‘Me? What do you mean?’
‘You’re fully aware of my stipulation?’
‘That you wouldn’t take him on your team if I didn’t come too?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I can’t understand why,’ Julie said strongly. ‘If you’re afraid of being chased by single girls you could have employed a man.’
‘Afraid, Mrs Drummond? Me?’ He looked considerably amused.
Julie shrugged. ‘Ian said that was the reason.’
Cameron Storm’s mouth twisted cynically. ‘I suppose it was a natural assumption, but he’s wide of the mark. The truth is I did not think it fair to part him from his wife for twelve long months; it could put his—marriage in jeopardy.’
He paused a moment, as though expecting her to say something. Julie hid her unease but remained silent. He couldn’t possibly know that she wasn’t Ian’s wife, she was being too sensitive.
‘Besides,’ he went on briskly, ‘I happened to need someone with your qualifications. You can—er—type, I presume?’
Julie inclined her head, her eyes flashing her impatience at such a question.
‘You’re not exactly what I expected,’ he added surprisingly. ‘I rather thought Ian’s wife was a blonde; I don’t know why. But then—’ he grinned widely, showing amazingly white teeth ‘—it’s amazing what you can get out of a bottle.’
Julie could not believe this man. He was totally confusing her and she wanted to get away from him, she wanted to speak to Ian, she wanted to ask him what, if anything, he had said. God, already it was so difficult.
‘All I ask,’ he said, the humour gone now, his voice brusque, ‘is that you don’t let your husband down.’
Taken by surprise, she asked sharply, ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’
‘I think you know.’ His blue eyes narrowed upon hers and Julie felt a quiver of unease. Another thought struck her. Surely he wasn’t aware that she already felt a faint pull of attraction? Surely she hadn’t given herself away in this short space of time? He didn’t think, he couldn’t think, that she was like this with every man she met? Could he?
‘If you can’t cope,’ he added crisply, ‘say so now and you and Ian can go back to England before we get started.’
Julie deliberately misinterpreted him. ‘I have no doubt at all that I can cope with the job.’ It had taken them ages to get their permits to stay and work here; Ian would never forgive her if she fouled things up now.
‘And everything else?’ he persisted, and this time there was no doubt what he meant.
‘But of course.’ She kept her eyes steady on his.
‘And may I suggest that you do something with your hair.’ His eyes raked over its long length. ‘Either tie it up or get the scissors to it. It’s totally impractical in this heat.’
She tossed her head. ‘You don’t have to tell me, I’ve already found that out. I have every intention of tying my hair back just as soon as I’ve had a shower and changed.’
‘Showered?’ He looked at her as though she were out of her mind. ‘There are no mod cons here.’
Julie felt slightly foolish, but she was damned if she would show it. She lifted her chin defensively. ‘Whatever.’
In the privacy of the tent Julie flung herself down on one of the camp-beds and wondered what she had let herself in for. Apart from the difficulty of the masquerade, she had never imagined anything like this. Had Ian known they would be sleeping under canvas? Had he deliberately misled her? Or had he thought it would be different too?
Throughout the flight from England to Ecuador she had tried to imagine what life in the Galapagos Islands would be like. Nothing had prepared her for camping out on the beach. She actually did not like sleeping under canvas.
When they were young, she and Ian had gone on a camping holiday with their parents and a violent thunderstorm had blown down the tent in the middle of the night. Several dozen frightened cows had come charging through their camp and frightened her even more than the storm. They had never managed to persuade her to sleep under canvas again.
It was a pity, Julie thought now, that she and Ian had not been able to fly out here together. They’d actually had difficulty in getting flights, and in the end he had come out more than a week before her.
She had stayed one night in Ecuador at a hotel in Quito, and had somehow expected things to be equally as civilised here. Perhaps, if she had thought about it properly, she would have realised that it wasn’t possible, that living in a tent was far more practical when it was necessary to move camp from one island to another—except that she hadn’t known they would be moving!
It was hot inside the tent and totally airless, and it was easy to see why most of them had no sides—obviously Cameron had thought that she and Ian needed their privacy!
Eventually she sat up and hugged her knees and looked about her. There was not exactly a lot of room and only one small area to store and hang their clothes. She had brought far too much, most of it totally impractical. When would she ever wear dresses, for instance? And high heels? She had thought they would dine out sometimes, that it wouldn’t be all work and no play. It certainly didn’t look like that now.
She knew that Santa Cruz was the second largest island and the main tourist centre, with the Charles Darwin Research Station stituated here, but she hadn’t really understood how remote their camp was going to be. And she was afraid to imagine what it was going to be like when they went to Vulcan Island. The stress would be intolerable.
Julie pulled off her dress and contemplated slipping into the sea as she desperately needed to cool down. Then the thought that Cameron Storm might be out there watching made her quickly change her mind. She would manage without, for the time being.
She opened her suitcase and tugged out a T-shirt and shorts. She saw no point at all in unpacking if they would shortly be on the move. She fished her comb out of her bag and raked it through her hair, twisting its length into a knot on top of her head which she fixed securely with a few hairpins.
When she ventured outside, Cameron, surprisingly and pleasingly, was nowhere in sight and she was able to wander through the campsite at will. She found the kitchen supplies tent and a stove that was run by Calor gas, which she supposed she was going to have to learn to use.
Intense fury ran through her. She wasn’t the world’s best cook, and it wasn’t a task she particularly enjoyed. If Ian had deliberately let her believe she was cooking only for the three of them, if he had known all along what he was letting her in for, then he would certainly get a piece of her mind.
‘I’m glad you did as you were told.’
Julie turned quickly at the sound of Cameron’s voice. He had come up so quietly behind her that her senses triggered in faint alarm. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked with a frown.
‘Your hair.’
Involuntarily she touched it, tempted to remind him again that she would have done so anyway, but deciding there was no point in provoking further antagonism. This was a very small community—and would be smaller still far too soon! It was best that they maintain some sort of halfway decent relationship.
He looked at her appraisingly and insolently, not missing one inch of her body, starting at the tips of her toes and working his way slowly upwards, pausing to rest on the pert thrust of her breasts before finally meeting her furious hazel eyes.
‘You’re too damned beautiful,’ he growled, and it wasn’t a compliment. ‘I’m not sure that it was a good idea after all; you could prove an unfortunate distraction.’
Julie knew he wasn’t talking about himself. In the short time she had spent in Cameron’s company she had got the impression that he was always in control, always in complete charge of his life, and that no woman, however attractive, would be allowed to intrude.
‘I’m sorry we did not meet when I was in England recently,’ he added.
‘Because then you wouldn’t have insisted that I accompany Ian, is that it?’ she asked crisply. ‘I think you’re being very insulting, Mr Storm, I can assure you I do not have a roving eye. I’m not interested in other men. I’m very happy as things are.’
Before Roger she had had no steady boyfriends. After what had happened to her mother she had always sworn she would never get married. But it had happened, she had fallen in love, and had really thought she had found the ideal man—until Roger’s jealously got the better of him.
He hadn’t been able to bear her to even talk to another man. At first she had been flattered, thought it proved how much he loved her, but when he had accused her of having an affair, when he would not listen when she’d explained that Tod Martin was a lifelong friend of the family and had taken her out for a meal because they hadn’t seen each other for over twelve months, she had ended their relationship.
He had been very acrimonious, and their argument had hurt her deeply, causing her many sleepless nights.
‘Is that so?’ Cameron’s brows rose mockingly, as though he thought otherwise, as though he thought she would have a field day with twenty men to take her choice from. ‘You’re happy with Ian?’
It was the glint in his eye that did it. Why he should have this instant damning opinion of her, she did not know. ‘I am, very much so,’ she told him furiously. ‘What have I done, Mr Storm, to deserve such offensive comments?’
He actually looked amused. ‘You’ve done nothing—yet.’
‘You’re just being prepared?’
‘Something like that,’ he admitted, his lips quirking.
Julie lifted her chin and glared. ‘You will find that I shall do nothing except my work—to the best of my ability. Is that good enough?’
‘I guess it will have to be.’ Their eyes met and challenged, and then, with a sudden, surprising change of subject, he said, ‘Ian is just the person I need to assist me. I am currently documenting the life of the fur seals. They are becoming an endangered species, as he’s probably told you?’
‘Actually no,’ replied Julie. ‘I’ve no idea what sort of work you do.’
He looked suprised, and immediately launched into an explanation. ‘It’s El Niño which is the problem,’ he told her. ‘A warm current which comes at around Christmas-time. It doesn’t normally have too much effect, but once every six or seven years the flow is exceptionally large; rainfall and temperatures soar and all the fish move away. Consequently its catastrophic for life that depends on the sea.’
‘Such as the fur seals,’ she acknowledged.
‘That’s right, and seabirds and marine iguanas. Most of the young die because they can’t feed and it takes many years for things to get back to normal—if ever.’
He was a totally different man when he was talking about his work—gone was the mockery and the hardness. It was very evident that he genuinely cared about wildlife. She relaxed and smiled. ‘You’re very passionate about your work, Mr Storm.’
‘It is my one and only interest in life,’ he admitted, and then, with another abrupt change of subject, ‘I was actually suprised to hear Ian had got married. I thought he was an equally earnest young man, intent only on furthering his career. When I first met him a couple of years ago there wasn’t even a girl on the scene. He mentioned to me then about coming out here.’
Julie smiled faintly, uncomfortably. ‘It did happen rather suddenly.’
‘He seemed very sure that you would come with him. Did you take much persuading?’ His deep blue eyes were watchful on hers and Julie shifted uneasily. The heat was getting to her; there wasn’t even a breeze to counteract the sun’s intensity. It was high overhead and she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since breakfast. She had flown the six hundred miles from Ecuador to the island of Baltra, and then taken the ferry here to Santa Cruz, and now she was both hungry and thirsty and didn’t really want to stand talking to Cameron Storm.
‘I didn’t actually jump at it,’ she admitted. But that had only been because of the deception. Otherwise it had come at a perfect time.
‘Because you didn’t want to give up your job?’
Julie shook her head. ‘Actually, I’m between jobs; I was made redundant a few months ago.’
‘So it was loyalty to your husband?’ There was a cynical tone to his voice now.
‘Of course,’ she snapped.
‘But you don’t share his interest in ecology?’
‘No. Does it matter?’
His mouth twisted. ‘Not so long as you don’t whinge all the time. This is hardly the place for someone who…’
Julie heard no more. His words receded and were lost as the heat pounded in her head. Everything began to spin, round and round, faster and faster, until finally she lost her balance.