Sanchia’s Secret by Robyn Donald

Author:Robyn Donald
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

The following day she stared along a dusty secondary road and said accusingly, ‘This is the way to Macgregor’s Bay.’

‘Yes.’

‘I came here once on a school outing and loved it.’ Sanchia cleared her throat. Stupid to be disappointed; it made sense to develop the most exquisite beaches, and Caid was famous for his financial acumen. ‘How many houses have been built there?’

‘Five.’

Surprised, she asked, ‘Surely there’s room for a lot more than five?’

‘Other developers had every intention of cutting it up into twenty sections,’ he said levelly.

When Sanchia waited he went on, ‘My development manager decided that the infrastructure wouldn’t take it—the road’s too narrow and widening it would cost a packet and be unsatisfactory.’ He sent her a measured, inscrutable glance before fixing his gaze back onto the road. ‘I agree. Five houses are enough.’

Ten minutes later Sanchia had to admit that the firm’s architects had done a brilliant job. A semicircle of white sand on the southern edge of one of Northland’s slender, twisting harbours, Macgregor’s Bay was sheltered by a high, grassy headland from the winds and waves that pounded in from the Pacific.

The almost completed houses had been skilfully tucked between the access road and the beach, at a distance from one another yet close enough for a sense of community. Landscaping had begun, but the place was empty of people.

As she fell in beside Caid on the beach, he took a minuscule Dictaphone from his pocket and made sharp, pertinent comments into it. Safe behind the darkened lenses of her sunglasses, Sanchia watched. The man who’d been resolutely pleasant and uncontroversial since dinner last night became subtly transmuted; his face grew harder, more angular, and his voice rang with cool detachment and authority.

This, she thought, was the real Caid Hunter, the ruthless, unsparing autocrat who ruled a growing empire. And he hadn’t acquired that empire by being nice to people.

Halfway along the beach he clicked the Dictaphone off. ‘There’s a covenant on the gardens. They have to be drought-proof.’ He looked up at the dry, shaggy headland. ‘When the autumn rains arrive that hill will be planted in native trees—the Department of Conservation has collected seeds from the few patches of local bush that are still left and grown them on.’

‘They’ll need care for some years.’ The wild, salt-laden winds of winter and the arid heat of next summer would kill any untended plant.

‘We’ve installed temporary irrigation. In two hundred years the headland might look a little as it did when the first Europeans came to New Zealand.’

‘That would be wonderful,’ she said.

‘You sound startled.’ Both words and tone goaded. ‘Did you think we’d walk in here, blast everything flat and build apartment blocks along the beach?’

Bending, she tried to yank a twist of dry grass from her sandal. When it resisted she slipped off her sandal, balancing on one leg while she shook the straw out. Casually, Caid took the hand she held out for balance, supporting her with a warm, strong grip.

‘Not exactly startled,’ she said when the stem was free.

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