Oceans Apart

Oceans Apart

By Shirley Heaton

Smashwords Edition 2011

Copyright © Shirley Heaton 2011

The right of Shirley Heaton to be identified as author of this work asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved

No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted save with the written permission of the author.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims damages

ISBN

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organisations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Also by Shirley Heaton

Chance Encounter

A Lesson in Love

Love Will Find a Way

Relative Strangers

A Prescription for Love

A Break with the Past

Chapter 1

What a hat! Lauren couldn’t take her eyes off it. She smiled to herself. It certainly brought back memories. It was a genuine Akubra. A big hat for a big man! All it needed was a dozen corks dangling from its wide brim and she could already be ‘down under’. Its owner, a tower of a man, maybe six four tall, was standing ahead of her at the check-in desk in the international hall at Heathrow. He was wearing casual khaki trousers and a matching military style shirt, hardly the sort of gear to be wearing in England in the chill of December. But maybe the guy enjoyed his ‘macho’ image.

Collecting his boarding card and passport, he turned away from the desk, immediately focusing his eyes in Lauren’s direction. Her smile faded and her eyes opened wide. He might appear eccentric, but what a handsome hunk! She shuddered. But her thoughts were sharply interrupted.

Next, echoed the crisp voice of the check-in steward, a false smile sketching her face.

Hesitating briefly, Lauren stepped forward, the picture of the guy refusing to fade from her mind. Talk about gorgeous. He had a thatch of dark hair in a sweep across his forehead, wonderful blue eyes and a broad grin revealing flashing white teeth. But still smarting after a breakdown in a recent relationship, Lauren pulled her thoughts together, concluding that looks are not everything. She forced the image to disappear.

Weighed down by the heavy shoulder bag dangling over her right shoulder, she managed to clutch her lap-top under her arm and move away from the check-in desk. She headed towards the first-class lounge where she elbowed the door and pushed her way inside. Spotting the coffee on the nearby buffet, she struggled to pour herself a cup and, balancing it carefully in her left hand, she turned. But she’d barely moved a muscle before the cup wobbled and shot to the floor, leaving coffee swimming in the saucer and trickling merrily down the lap-top, finally dripping on to her expensive cream suede peep-toe shoes. Aghast, she stared down at the mess. Whoever was responsible had a great deal to answer to.

Here. Let me take that.

Lauren looked up. It was The Hat. He frowned and stared at her stony-faced. Sorry, but you need to be more careful. You stepped right in front of me.

She stared back, her own face masked in annoyance, her brown eyes blazing with indignation. How could he be so cold, so arrogant? But then his face broke into a broad grin. And that’s what did it. Her stomach flipped, giving her a strange feeling as the guy took hold of the lap-top and the saucer placing them gently on the buffet. He grabbed a bundle of serviettes, knelt down and gently dabbed her shoes, slipped them from her feet one by one and started on her toes. Mesmerised, she stood there, his soothing touch on her skin sending delicious tremors through her body. He looked up at her, his eyes penetrating hers.

Alarmed at the pleasure she felt, she pulled herself up sharply. What on earth was she doing standing there like some goggle-eyed schoolgirl whilst this guy took liberties? First of all he knocks coffee all over her and then he has the audacity to stroke her feet in a manner she could only describe as – sensual.

She concentrated hard to stop those delicious feelings from developing further. She was tired, nothing more, and she was foolishly allowing herself to relax. How dare the guy take such liberties? He had a nerve, she’d give him that.

How do you mean I stepped in front of you? I did nothing of the sort. You knocked me, she insisted, now flashing him a look of disdain.

The Hat ignored her comment and collected her suede shoes from the floor. These need tidying up, he said, striding towards the door, opening it and disappearing.

Lauren stood there, mouth wide open, her face a crimson blaze of fury. What could she do about this guy? Nothing, she assured herself, not until he returned. And there was no point standing there contemplating her bare feet. She turned and walked across to the armchair, placing her shoulder bag on the seat. Remembering the lap-top, she returned to the buffet, tore a handful of serviettes from the dispenser and wiped the outer case of the computer, checking for coffee leaks inside.

It was less than a couple of minutes before The Hat returned, his broad, white smile in contrast to his weather-beaten face. There you go. Scrubbed up nicely I’d say.

Scrubbed up, scrubbed up! She was horrified. The shoes cost an arm and a leg and she’d bought them especially to match her suit. The Hat held them out in front of her and she stared hard, looking for an excuse to reprimand him. But she had to admit that whatever he’d done, he’d made a darned good job of them. The coffee stain had disappeared completely. Being damp, maybe they looked a little darker, but they were very little different from before the accident.

He stood there looking into her eyes like a child trying to impress. What could she do? What could she say? She hadn’t the heart to rebuke him.

Well, yes. They are an improvement, I suppose. Thank you.

Before she could think straight, he quickly knelt before her, lifted one foot and then the other slipping back the shoes. She stared down at him. He was doing it again! Who did he think he was, Prince Charming to her Cinderella?

How about that? He turned and looked up, his blue eyes lighting up to a wonderful glow.

She had to admit he certainly had a winning way about him. Nevertheless, the incident would never have happened had he been more careful instead of bumping into her and almost knocking her flying. She gave a heavy sigh and smiled. I must admit they look fine.

Tom Shaw, he continued, pushing himself to his feet and offering his huge, brawny hand.

She took it but she was now at odds with herself, wondering how she should respond. But knowing the least she could do was to introduce herself, she spluttered, Lauren Bradley.

Are you going all the way? He squeezed her hand, searching her face for an answer. To Sydney, I mean.

Eventually. Torn between starting a fully-blown conversation and giving a terse reply, Lauren hesitated. Then she softened. I’m staying in Singapore for a day or two.

Really? That’s a coincidence. Maybe I’ll see you around. I’m there until Thursday. He looked into her eyes before letting go of her hand. Picking up his briefcase, he backed away, still holding her gaze. Then he turned and headed towards the far side of the lounge.

She groaned, admitting to herself that she liked the guy but he was too much in her face. And he was becoming over-familiar when all she wanted was some space, a little peace. She fumbled with her bag and took out a set of reports. She’d promised herself she’d complete them by the time the aircraft touched down in Singapore and they were only partially finished. She must get on with them. Opening the lap-top computer, she booted it up and programmed the file on ‘Pure Silk Lingerie.’ A buyer manager for exclusive London fashion house, Alexis Perouse, Lauren had scheduled her visits to two small manufacturers whilst she was in Singapore. They were both regular suppliers and it was important the reports were ready when she called to check out their ranges, and place her orders for the season.

Picking up the threads of the first report, she started to complete the final details but her mind drifted to Tom Shaw. What was it about him that kept on bombarding her mind? She tried to rationalise. He was impulsive, audacious and yet  . She stared at the reports. They must be completed and quickly too. She closed her mind to everything else and in no time at all she’d rattled them off.

No sooner had she switched off the computer than the announcement came for passengers to board. She picked up her things and set off towards the gate. Unconsciously she searched the group of passengers for Tom and she spotted him. And when he saw her looking, he maintained eye contact. Momentarily, she was drawn to him, her eyes glued in his direction. But, realising she was staring, she looked away, embarrassed. It wasn’t that he attracted her – so she tried to convince herself – it was just that he was such an imposing figure. She simply couldn’t help it.

On board the aircraft, the steward ushered her to a seat in the first class area. That was one of the perks of working for Perouse. They always insisted she travel first class, a luxury she enjoyed on such a long-haul flight. Not that she scoffed at package holidays. A fleeting recollection of the trip to Spain with the gang from university flashed through her mind. They’d booked it the minute the final results were announced, the cheapest package they could find. What a wow it had been, a holiday she’d never forget. That was a few years ago but, goodness, it seemed like an age away. She pondered. She’d not kept in touch as she’d promised. She must do so when she returned.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the steward. You won’t need this, Miss Bradley, he said, pointing to the lap top. Not until after we’ve taken off. It’s switched off I take it.

Lauren smiled and nodded. The steward took it from her hands and placed it in the overhead locker. She glanced sideways and noticed an elderly woman had boarded and was easing herself into the seat beside her. Obviously a private person, the woman nodded and gave a smile that failed to develop, picked up the flight magazine and flicked through the pages. That was a bonus! Lauren needed time to herself, to think about the visits to the two companies. That was her priority. Afterwards, her work would be finished until the end of the trip, her time her own once she’d left Singapore.

Her eye caught the vision of Tom who was sitting a couple of seats ahead of her. He had removed the Akubra and was running his fingers roughly through his tousled locks which, she reckoned, were desperately in need of a trim. And then she stifled a smile. He was making a valiant effort to smooth down the unruly waves but no sooner had he dropped his hands than the untidy mop sprang back into position. It was lucky she wasn’t sitting beside him otherwise she’d have needed to curb the strong impulse to run her own hands through it. Enough, she urged herself with unexpected fierceness. Pull yourself together, woman! How could she allow such thoughts? He just wasn’t her type.

But what was her type she asked herself, now that she’d broached the subject? A man of substance, an intellectual? The ‘city’ type? But he’d have to sweep her off her feet and penetrate her defences. There was no doubt about it a well-groomed professional was more up her street. Like handsome consultant surgeon, Jonathan Medici. He’d certainly swept her off her feet. And penetrated her defences. She frowned. He’d led her to believe she was the only woman in his life and always would be. He’d wined and dined her at all the swish places. And look what happened there! She’d been such a fool not to realise sooner. It turned out everyone else knew. But don’t they say that’s the way of things? The innocent party is always the last to find out. She reprimanded herself. She must forget Medici; wipe him out of all existence. That spark had died when she’d discovered he was already married and was stringing along a couple of nurses on the side too.

She sighed. What on earth had brought this on? It wasn’t her style to let her mind wander. She was normally quite disciplined. And now she needed to stop this foolishness. Why had she latched on to this theme? It simply wasn’t significant. She opened her shoulder bag, took out a copy of ‘Marie Claire’ and opened it up. The article was headed ‘Soul mates’!

Tom took a sly glance behind him. Lauren seemed to have quietened down now, lost that superior look. There was no doubt about it, she’d take some handling would that little filly. Needed taming. Obviously used to giving the orders, getting her own way. No doubt one of the new breed, feminists or whatever they called themselves. But why did they act like that? Why were they angry? Women were women. Men were men. So what? There was no argument about equality in his book. It was even-Steven. Play to your own strengths. That was his philosophy. He’d probably gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick. But it was just the look on her face when the coffee had spilt. It was careless of him, he knew that, but what could he say when she gave him the daggers. She obviously had it in for him. A straight apology would never have been acceptable. Maybe she was tired. A good looker though. Gorgeous brown eyes and a neat little figure.

He started to reflect on his trip. His lectures and professional advice on horse breeding and training both in Ireland and in England had been more successful than he had ever dreamed, and the trip had certainly been stimulating. He was going back with fresh ideas too, different approaches and different methods. The contacts he’d made with several stud farms over there would certainly prove to be useful. The network he’d set up before he left was an exciting new project for him, and he was looking forward to putting it into operation. But now he was heading for Kareena, his own place, and he’d be glad to get back to the big country, to the heat of the Queensland territory. He had to admit there’d been a bit of a nip in the air when he’d left Yorkshire for London.

The three week trip seemed to have flown by, but now he had important work at the farm to catch up on, and his mind drifted to his own valuable stallions and the schedule he’d arranged for the New Year. And there were the two mares in foal, both due shortly after his return.

Most of all there was Rosie. How he’d missed her. But it wouldn’t be for much longer now. The three days he’d arranged to spend in Singapore with his business contacts would soon pass. And he knew he couldn’t miss out on his Sydney stop to visit his sister, Alicia in Sylvania Waters. He’d never hear the end of it if he failed to toe the line. She’d been his rock since his childhood and he loved her dearly. Fortunately Rosie knew he’d be away for some time and she accepted his explanation.

He slipped off his Akubra and shoved it under the seat. Still concentrating on his horses, he ran his hand through his hair. Perhaps after he’d gathered his thoughts and amended his notes, he could take a brief nap. It had been an early start that morning. He’d been up at four thirty to make sure he caught the six o’clock flight from Manchester to Heathrow to arrive in time for his connection to Singapore.

He glanced over his shoulder and his train of thought was broken when his eye caught Lauren’s. She was sitting two rows behind him on the opposite side of the aircraft. Was she actually smiling at him? He caught her gaze and held it. He could drown in those eyes. He smiled back. But she quickly looked away. If only she could allow herself to relax, she’d be a stunner. He grinned. He could suggest a remedy that would certainly do the trick. But enough of those wayward thoughts.

The eleven hour flight to Singapore passed relatively quickly despite the constant attention of those lovely stewardesses, fragile and serene with huge eyes and pretty, doll-like faces but they were far too skinny in his book. He smiled as he collected his papers together and slipped them into his briefcase. At least he’d managed to piece together some of the notes he’d used during his trip after checking out some of the information he’d gathered at the same time.

His attempts to drowse were futile. He’d have to wait until he reached Changi Airport and the hotel in Singapore before he