They made love.
On the beach.
On top of a cliff underneath a lone Norfolk pine.
On the pontoon in the middle of the lagoon.
Every night, the moment they returned to the apartment after dining out.
Every morning before setting off to Humpty Dick’s for breakfast.
Many times Tammy thought it was like a honeymoon in a private paradise. It couldn’t have been any better for Kirsty and Paul than this. Except Kirsty and Paul were married and had the emotional security of knowing they would have each other for the rest of their lives.
Fletcher never mentioned the future. Nor did he ever speak the word love. Tammy tried to keep a mental door shut on these concerns, determined not to bring any pain into the pleasure of having what he was giving of himself. Besides, this time together was so good, she told herself he would surely want to continue their relationship. It was just a matter of waiting until he did bring it up, probably just before they left the island.
They lazed the last morning away, basking in the sun at Ned’s Beach, going for the occasional swim to cool off. Fletcher said nothing about meeting up again. Tammy tried to remain relaxed but she could feel the tension of uncertainty building up in her on the walk back to their apartment. Their flight left at one-thirty. They’d only left themselves time to have a quick lunch and do last-minute packing before they’d be collected for the drive to the airport. Was Fletcher content to leave this as simply a shared time out from their different lives?
They passed the island cemetery. On a previous walk they’d strolled along the neat rows of headstones, reading them and speculating about the lives and deaths of beloved wives, husbands and children—island families with long histories here. She desperately wanted much more of a history with Fletcher than a haphazard series of encounters fitted in between long absences.
His silence caused her to withdraw inside herself. Even the hand holding hers lost its power to keep her deeply connected to him. She had to achieve enough emotional detachment to make the inevitable parting with some dignity, no begging, no breaking into tears, a nonchalant acceptance of ships passing in the night. Again!
‘I can feel you separating yourself from me, Tamalyn.’
His sensitivity startled her into blurting out what to her was a cruel truth. ‘Well, it’s not as if I can hang on to you, is it, Fletcher?’ She shot a wry glance at him, needing some reassurance of some lasting attachment to her but not expecting it. ‘Time’s almost up and you’ll be back on the other side of the world tomorrow.’
He’d already told her his return flight to Los Angeles was scheduled two hours after they landed back in Sydney and he’d be moving straight from the domestic terminal to the international one.
‘I should thank you for sharing this with me,’ she rattled on, trying to sound bright and cheerful. ‘It’s been great!’
‘Yes, it has,’ he agreed. ‘I’m glad you were free.’
‘That’s it?’
The sharp words were out before pride could stop them, and once said she couldn’t take them back. Besides, she was sick of all her inner angst. She needed to know. Her heart pounded with apprehension. The heat of many turbulent emotions flared into her cheeks as her feet halted and she swung to face him, her eyes sharply probing his, searching frantically for what she meant to him.
‘That’s it, Fletcher?’ she repeated, her chin jutting with determination not to back down from an open confrontation.
For a moment his eyes blazed with triumphant satisfaction, making her heart pound even faster because she didn’t understand what it meant and it frightened her.
‘Not if you don’t want it to be,’ he said with an air of ruthless challenge.
She shook her head in confusion. ‘Haven’t I just made it clear that I don’t want what we’ve shared here to end?’
‘It doesn’t have to end.’ He stepped closer, raised a hand, ran his knuckles softly down her cheek. ‘You can be with me, Tamalyn. The demands of my work keep me overseas, and I find a long-distance relationship both inconvenient and frustrating. I want you with me every day, every night. All you have to do is say yes to that and I’ll make all the arrangements.’
Tammy’s heart cramped as the realisation hit her that he’d trapped her into revealing too much of it. He’d been waiting for some vulnerability to play on, to take advantage of, to use in gaining his own end. Her chest was so tight with shock she could barely find breath enough to speak.
‘You’re asking me to leave my life in Sydney to be with you, wherever you are?’ she choked out.
‘What do you lose?’ he asked with arrogant confidence. ‘You’re now a fully qualified midwife. You can use that anywhere or come back to it at a later time. You’re not going to upset a family that cares about what you choose to do with your life. If you want to fly back for the monthly luncheon with your friends, or fly them to you, I’m happy to pay whatever it costs to keep you happy. I can buy you anything you want, Tamalyn.’
‘No…no, you can’t.’ Her feet started stumbling backwards, away from his touch, his reach. She shook her head vehemently over his claim. ‘You can’t buy my self-respect, Fletcher.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘It means I won’t be a rich man’s mistress, giving up my life for his convenience.’
He stepped forward, grabbing her upper arms to halt her retreat from him, fingers digging into her flesh with almost bruising strength, his eyes blazing a command for her to fall in with his plan. ‘I’m asking you to be my partner, not my mistress.’
‘No, you’re not. Partners do equal sharing, and there’s nothing equal about this. It’s all your way, Fletcher. You just want to have me handy for as long as you find me desirable, and you’ll keep me in luxury for as long as I please you.’ She’d seen it enough times with her mother to know how it worked and how it ended. ‘That’s not being partners. It’s a barter thing and I won’t enter into it.’
His jaw clenched in fighting mode. ‘You didn’t mind me paying for these past few days,’ he bit out.
‘I didn’t realise you thought you were buying me,’ Tammy shot back at him in sharp resentment at having her acceptance judged so cynically. ‘I thought I was your guest. But if you see it now as a financial loss, please send me an account for half the cost and I’ll pay it.’