Passionate Choice

Chapter 1.2

   The contrast between what she could see and what she usually saw when she woke up in the bedroom of her flat in the city where she lived and worked in England was quite shocking, Selena thought. Here was a brilliance of light and vivid colour. Back home there would be greyness, possibly brought by rain.

   But time was going on and Ben—Professor Ben Hunt, head of the department of archeology at Sealand University to whom she was now engaged to be married and for whom she had worked as an assistant lecturer in the department while studying for her master's degree in archeology for the past two years—would be getting impatient, wondering why she hadn't put in an appearance. She leapt from the bed, ran into the bathroom, showered quickly, and dressed in a thin blue and white shirt belted with a wide white belt over a narrow calf-length white 'pirate' trousers. She brushed her silky hair, applied the minimum of make-up to her ivory-skinned, oval-shaped face and regarded her appearance in the mirror seriously with critical dark brown, black-lashed eyes. Then, satisfied with what she could see, she picked up a small white leather shoulder-bag and left the bedroom by the front door, stepping out on the shaft veranda that ran the full width of the one-storey building, a whitewashed stone unit containing, she had been told, six bedroom suites. Another unit about a hundred yards away also contained six bedrooms. Together the two buildings made up the sleeping accommodation at the resort.

   Through a plantation of palms, casuarina trees and exotic flowering shrubs she walked along a path that led to a flight of steps going up to the wide terrace of the main resort building. As she mounted the steps she glanced to the left, to the wide horseshoe bay of glittering blue water. Tied up at the beef of a jetty belonging to the club was a sleek grey and white ship: the dive-ship carrying all the equipment necessary for scuba diving and for exploring underwater wrecks.

   "This way. Come this way, Selena." Heather spoke behind her and Selena turned to find the woman standing in the opening of one of the wide glass doorways that formed part of the outer wall of the main building.

   She followed Heather into a long wide room with a vaulted ceiling. At the end of the room was a bar and at the other a dining area with tables and chairs and doorways leading into the kitchen area. Between the bar and the dining area was a lounge furnished with comfortable sofas and armchairs and occasional tables. Sitting on me if them leaning were Ben and another man, both of them leaning over a coffee-table on which a chart had been spread.

   "Here's Selena now," announced Heather, since neither of the men seemed to be aware of her or Selena. Immediately Ben looked up and sprang to his feet. Slim and slight, wearing blue shorts and a rather wild sports shirt made from brightly coloured cotton he greeted Selena cheerfully.

   "I hope you slept well," he said.

   "Extremely well," she replied, smiling at him and offering her cheek to his kiss. "Sorry I'm late."

   "Not to worry, not to worry. We hadn't started to discuss anything." He slipped a hand through the crook of her arm and urged her towards the coffee-table. "Come and meet Keith Walker, acting's skipper of the dive-ship. Keith, I'd like you to meet Selena Mason, my assistant."

   The man who was still leaning over the coffee table straightened up and rose to his feet in an easy, lithe movement and looked directly at Selena who, at the mention of his name, had stopped dead in her tracks, her breath catching sharply in her throat, hot blood rushing into her normally pale cheeks then draining away as fast, leaving her face feeling tight and drawn as shocked surprise held her rooted to the spot in spite of Ben's urging hand.