No Other Haven by Kathryn Blair Read Free Book Online

knowing I can contact you by telephone.”
    It pleased Lindsey that he should be anxious.
    “Daniel will know where the nearest telephone is,” she said. “I expect he’s used one before. We’ll get him a bicycle.”
    Stuart was not satisfied. “All I can think of for the present is that whenever I keep a business appointment, you must be dropped at ‘Komana,’ and I’ll collect you on the way back.” ‘Komana’ was his mother’s house. “We shall have to be getting along there soon,” he added. “Want the bath first?”
    The bathroom was dead white all over, even to the rubberized floor. Cool, perhaps, but hardly friendly. Lindsey determined to replace the stark towels with pastels and checks, and to drape the frosted glass window with a patterned plastic. Lightly, smitten with delicious awe, she touched Stuart’s fat shaving cup on the glass shelf, and slipped the toothbrush he had carelessly shoved there into the holder beside her own. Another of the crazy little pleasures of being in love.
    Dressing, she thought of all the duties she must begin tomorrow. The purchase of fresh linen—for she disliked the idea of their using someone else’s and it would be sweet to have a few articles of their own. The pantry had to be filled, a routine planned. And she must get in some cookery before they entertained. Meta hardly looked the type to be trusted with more than a couple of courses.
    A dusting of powder, a rub of lipstick. Her coloring required very little make up, thank goodness. She slipped the compact and a lawn handkerchief into a sequin purse, threw a coat over her arm and traversed the long corridor to the hall.
    Though it was nearly dark, the doors still stood wide. Moths flashed about the electric lantern which hung in the stoep, and the night bees chirred in a dozen keys in the bougainvillaea that arched over the wide porch. The air, soft and warm as down, moved gently among the cassias and flame trees in the garden. Scents stole up, bewitching, elusive.
    She stood waiting, looking straight and young as new grass in the green dress with a cascade of white ruffles at the throat, her hair shining and curled up short above her neck. She did not move when Stuart came behind her.
    “This air’s intoxicating,” she murmured.
    “Not only the air,” he said as softly over the top of her head.
    She felt him take her shoulders and then was shot through with an exquisite anguish as his lips sought the lobe of her ear and her neck. If only she dared turn into his arms. But his hands dropped and he leaned over to the hall chair where lay her coat and purse.
    “Mother will be wondering if we ever got here,” he said. “Besides, I want to show you off.”
    Lindsey did not glance his way then, but in the car, from beneath lowered lashes, she saw that a faint color had risen under his tan, and though he bantered he did not look at her.
    Twenty minutes later he drew up before the cement portals of a large white house on the Esplanade. As soon as the engine stopped Lindsey could hear the muted thunder of waves upon beach, though only a black arc sprinkled with diamonds was visible from this distance.
    Stuart had never attempted to describe ‘Komana’ to Lindsey. For some degree of opulence she was prepared, but the long, pillared driveway which reached to the terrace, the magnificent candelabra which sparkled within the tall oaken doors, drawing depth and lustre from the Turkey red carpet and silver damask chairs, the honey-hued table rioting with flowers, took her breath away.
    He must have sensed a shrinking in her, for his arm pressed hers close against his side, and he smiled down at her.
    “Is it worse than the dentist?”
    “Much worse.”
    “A year from now you’ll laugh at this.”
    A year from now. He always said the right thing.
    A white-uniformed houseboy stepped from behind the table where he had been stationed like a sentinel.
    “Good evening, Julius,” Stuart addressed him . “Is Madam in