Inherit the Sun Read online

  Inherit the Sun by Rebecca Stratton

  Beth stared at Louis, her eyes wide and dazed. She couldn't believe her ears. You mean I have to convince you of my ability to handle the money before I can inherit my share?" she asked. That I can't have it until you say I can?" The acquisition of the fortune she had come such a distance to claim depended upon Louis Marizzi's goodwill. To think that she had been put in such a situation!

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  OTHER Harlequin Romances by REBECCA STRATTON

  —THE GOLDEN MADONNA —FAIRWINDS

  —THE BRIDE OF ROMANO —CASTLES IN SPAIN

  —RUN FROM THE WIND —ISLAND OF DARKNESS —AUTUMN CONCERTO

  —FIREBIRD —THE FLIGHT OF THE HAWK —THE FIRE AND THE FURY —MOON TIDE —THE GODDESS OF MAVISU —ISLE OF THE GOLDEN DRUM —PROUD STRANGER —CHATEAU D'ARMOR —THE ROAD TO GAFSA —GEMINI CHILD —GIRL IN A WHITE HAT

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  Original hardcover edition published in by Mills & Boon Limited

  ISBN ---

  Harlequin edition published August

  Copyright © by Rebecca Stratton. All rights reserved.

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  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  BETH turned quickly when someone touched her arm, and gazed at the man who had approached her with a vague and rather confused look in her eyes. Everything seemed a little confusing to her at the moment, for the journey from London to Honolulu was close on nine thousand miles, and doing the whole trip in one day had left her feeling rather dazed.

  She had vaguely noticed the man a few moments before, she thought, watching the new arrivals as if he was looking for someone, and when she turned he smiled anxiously, rather as if he feared he might have made a mistake and accosted the wrong person. The hand on her arm was hastily withdrawn.

  'Pardon me—are you Miss Fraser; Miss Elizabeth Fraser?'

  Beth's prime reaction was one of relief at not having to find her own way through the busy complex, and she admitted her identity with a nod and a somewhat shaky smile. 'Yes, I'm Beth Fraser,' she said.

  He was looking at her as if she was not quite what he had expected, and she half smiled. Men often looked at her with interest, and she was accustomed to a certain number of them making almost any excuse to scrape an acquaintance, but this man she thought was not one of those—besides which, he knew her name.

  For all that he was obviously appreciative of a small oval face that had wide green eyes and a rather generous mouth that trembled a little uncertainly at the

  moment, but normally smiled quite readily. Hair that was not quite auburn, but a warm rich brown that could look as if it was red in certain lights, framed her face and was fluttered about her shoulders by a light wind.

  All this she saw register with the man facing her, and she felt a niggle of impatience that he took so long to identify himself once he had got her attention. It was possible he could be Louis Marizzi, she supposed, but somehow even in her present slightly confused state, she could not quite believe he was, for he was nothing like she had envisaged her unknown cousin, and that was who she had expected here to meet her.

  He should surely be a little older than this man, and certainly more Italian-looking, although she was probably judging by preconceived and incorrect ideas of how Italians should look. Dark and black-haired, she had thought, with dark eyes—nothing like this man at all, and for a moment she experienced a sense of disappointment, although her common sense told her it was quite idiotic to feel so.

  She was still confused after all those hours of flying, she told herself, or she would not be so slow to respond. Whoever he was, the man was offering her his hand, and she took it after a moment of hesitation, at the same time taking stock of him from the concealment of her lashes.

  He was probably about thirty-two years old, she guessed, and looked healthily handsome in a typically American way; he was also unmistakably an outdoor man, judging by his tan, and he had a friendly smile which was very welcome at the moment, while she felt so unsure of herself.

  'I'm Ray Brauman, Miss Fraser—Mr Marizzi's overseer. Aloha—welcome to the islands!'

  'Thank you.'

  She had to admit to being a little disappointed that Louis Marizzi had not come himself to meet her, but there was probably a very good reason for his delegating the task to his overseer instead and Ray Brauman was a pleasant enough deputy.

  Her luggage was collected and she passed through the necessary check points all in something of a daze —nothing yet seemed quite real. All around were such a bewildering variety of races and faces that she felt she could have been at an international conference, and almost everyone wore at least one of the traditional leis. The scent of the flowers used in the garlands was spicy and sweet and it filled the air, mingling exotically with the chattering confusion of voices. It was all new and interesting and incredibly exciting.

  Noticing her interest in the traditional symbol of welcome, Ray Brauman grimaced apologetically as he carried her luggage across to a parked car. 'I guess I should have remembered to get you a lei, Miss Fraser, it's the done thing for a new arrival.' He smiled ruefully as he put her suitcases into the boot of a vast and shiny American car. 'I'm sorry I didn't think about it, but I was kind of anxious not to miss you.'

  'Oh, please don't worry about it V Beth still felt a little lightheaded and barely in full command of her faculties. 'I'm only grateful you were here to meet me, Mr Brauman—that flight was unbelievable, I thought it would never end!'

  'You came direct, is that right?' She nodded, and he whistled silently in admiration of her stamina. 'All the way from London, England, since this morning—no wonder you feel a little dizzy! I guess you'll be glad to stretch your legs—sorry I have to whisk you into a car as soon as you arrive.'

  Beth glanced out of the car window as they drove away from the airport complex, via neatly laid out roads and seemingly endless flower gardens. 'Is it very far to—' She laughingly admitted defeat yet again in her effort to pronounce the name of the estate her grandfather had owned. 'I've no idea how it's pronounced!'

  Ray Brauman seemed to find nothing untoward in her difficulty, but he shook his head as he smiled. 'Hawaiian words aren't too much bother if you just stick to a few basic rules,' he explained. 'Once you get the hang of it, you'll find there's nothing to it. Like, A-u-w-a-i, is pronounced "ow-eye", get it? It means a stream and there's one running clear through the property, so I guess old Enrico knew what he was doing when he chose the name as well as the place!'

  'Enrico Marizzi?'

  'Right!' The glance he gave her over his shoulder was probably curious, but she did not wonder at that. 'He was quite a guy.'
/>
  Beth smiled a little vaguely. It was still very hard to believe that because an old man of ninety-six had been troubled by his conscience in the last days of his long life, she was now a wealthy heiress. It was even harder to accept that the old man, born in Sicily but long settled in the Hawaiian islands, had been her grandfather.

  She glanced at the man beside her and laughed a little unsteadily, her heart thudding anxiously again, now that she had been reminded just what an important moment this was in her life. 'I still can't quite believe that all this is happening, you know,' she told him, and he nodded without turning his head.

  It was obvious he must be curious, but he appeared no more than politely interested at the moment. 'I

  guess it is kind of hard for you to grasp,' he observed.

  It was indeed hard to grasp, and Beth still found it all rather unbelievable. It seemed a pity not to give more of her attention to the passing scene, but she had so much else on her mind that it was almost impossible to think of anything but her own present position, and the events that had led up to her being here in Hawaii.

  Great-aunt Grace had been worried about her coming so far alone when she had seldom been out of England during her twenty years, but Beth herself was both excited and apprehensive at the idea of meeting relatives she had not known existed until a few weeks ago. For the whole of her life she had understood that her great-aunt was the only person she had in the world, then suddenly she learned she had had a grandfather living in Hawaii, and a second cousin, Louis Marizzi. That was all she knew so far, but it was an exciting beginning to a venture she had high hopes of.

  Grace Fraser had never married because she had devoted her life first to Beth's mother, and then to Beth herself. When she could perhaps have been having a family of her own, she was busy caring for the orphaned daughter of her only brother, only to see the girl she had come to look upon as her own child die when she was only eighteen years old, giving birth to a child of her own.

  For most of her life Beth had known nothing at all about her father, and her natural curiosity had been turned aside, sometimes brusquely, by her great-aunt, so that on occasion her imagination had run riot, but nothing she had imagined had compared with the truth. It was only when Enrico Marizzi died and left her a fourth share in his not inconsiderable fortune

  that she had learned who she really was.

  It was through his second marriage at the age of fifty-four, to an English schoolteacher, that Beth was connected. Their son, Richard, was visiting England when he met Ruth Fraser and the affair had been brief but passionate. The young couple married after only a few weeks, despite the fiancée that Richard already had at home in Hawaii, but in the circumstances he had thought it more politic to return home alone and break the news to his family before introducing his young bride. It was while he was on his way home that he had been killed.

  Shocked and grief-stricken, Ruth had turned to her elderly aunt once more for comfort. It was Grace Fraser who wrote, some months later, to inform Enrico Marizzi that his son Richard's widow was expecting his child, but the letter was ignored. Old Enrico had hardened his heart and refused to acknowledge either the bereaved wife or her child. Nothing was heard of him until a letter had arrived a few weeks ago stating that the child of Richard and Ruth Marizzi, formerly Fraser, was a beneficiary under her grandfather's will. Old Enrico's conscience had caught up with him at last.

  Grace Fraser had never forgiven him for denying her niece the recognition she was entitled to, for Ruth had been her whole life, and she had taken care, when she took on the upbringing of Ruth's daughter, that Beth never knew her real name—her birth had been registered in the name of Fraser, and that of Marizzi buried with the bitterness of the memories it invoked.

  `You never knew the old man?' Ray Brauman's inquiring voice brought her swiftly back to reality. 'Mr Enrico Marizzi, I mean,' he added, seeing her slightly dazed look, and Beth shook her head.

  'Oh no, I didn't even know of his existence until a few weeks ago! '

  'It must be kind of strange,' he observed, 'not even knowing your own grandpa.'

  Beth was not at all sure just what his position was —what terms he was on with the family he worked for, or how much he knew of her own curious story, but she hesitated to enlighten him at this stage, if he was simply being inquisitive.

  'It's, a long story,' she said, and he nodded, apparently content not to pry further.

  'You'll like the islands,' he told her. 'It's like nowhere else on earth.'

  Beth smiled, wondering if she herself would ever become as enchanted with the reputedly mystical spell of the Hawaiian islands. The sea was not very far away, for only minutes ago it had been immediately on their right, shimmering like dark silk in the evening sun, but now they were travelling through a seemingly endless expanse of tall, green canes that she recognised as sugar, with its silvery tassels fluttering in the light breeze, and she turned to Ray Brauman once more, a flicker of nervousness showing in her voice.

  'Is this—are we near the Marizzi plantation?' she asked, and he nodded.

  'Right here,' he told her, and turned the car along a rough dirt road between rows of the tall cane, the red dust rising like a cloud before them and almost hazing out the dying glow of the sun. 'As far as you can see is Marizzi property!' He grinned over his shoulder at her, briefly and reassuringly. 'Not far now!'

  'Do you belong here, Mr Brauman?' She wanted something to take her mind off the imminent meeting

  with her brand new relatives, and she lit on the first subject that came to mind. 'I mean, do you belong to the islands?'

  Ray Brauman laughed. 'Heck no,' he told her, shaking his head. `I'm from Oregon originally, but I did a spell in Guyana when I left college, learning all about sugar, then moved on to the West Indies for a while, working for a British firm.'

  'And now you work in Hawaii !

  `For the past couple of years,' he agreed. 'I was lucky, I guess, it isn't every day you get a chance like this come your way !

  `No. No, I imagine not.' He must have noticed her absent manner, but she thought he would understand —she felt so nervous now that she was actually here and it must have showed in her manner. `Mr Louis Marizzi is your—is the boss now, of course.'

  He glanced at her briefly, and nodded. 'Since the old man died at the year's start,' he told her.

  `And you like working for him, too?'

  'Sure.' Something in his voice did not sound quite right, and Beth turned her head and glanced at him, but he was smiling, and showed no sign of uncertainty. 'There's been changes, of course, bound to be with a new hand on the rein, but we get along O.K.'

  It seemed incredible that an old man of ninety-six could have taken an active part in running such a huge concern, but Ray Brauman's answer seemed to suggest it. 'Was Mr Marizzi still holding the reins when he died?' she asked. 'At ninety-six years old?'

  He laughed and shook his head. 'You didn't know Enrico Marizzi, Miss Fraser,' he reminded her, 'or you wouldn't be so surprised! He was quite a guy ! '

  And a stubborn and unrelenting one too, Beth added silently, although he had eventually, after

  twenty years, recognised his granddaughter. She could only hope that Louis Marizzi would prove a less daunting prospect. He was bound to be some years older than she was herself, of course, for his father was the old man's son from his first marriage, but she could not even be absolutely certain about that. She caught a glimpse of a house, its lights already beaming out between the rows of cane, and felt apprehension again when she realised she knew nothing about the man whose guest she was to be.

  The house itself was impressive, especially coming upon it suddenly from a forest of cane as they did. Huge and white and ablaze with lights it was half hidden by a lush growth of trees and shrubs all around it. It looked, Beth thought a little dazedly, as if someone had transported it just as it was, from somewhere in southern Europe.

  'Auwai,' Ray Brauman said, and turned the car in a wide sw
eep in front of the house before putting on the brakes and cutting the engine. 'It looks like Louis still isn't back.'

  The house seemed even larger close to, and the gardens were the most beautiful she had ever seen. Tall trees shaded it, palms and many more she did not recognise, heavy with exotic blossom and scenting the air with their perfumes. The variety was breathtaking and even in the strangely deceptive mixture of daylight and artificial light the colours were almost unreal.

  A fountain splashed into a wide stone basin at the centre of which was a naked stone nymph in creamy marble, and red roses grew in a low border around it, climbing over the edge to the water. It was beautiful, and Ray Brauman gave her a moment or two to enjoy

  '

  it before he moved round to take her luggage from the car.

  It was so quiet too, and she remembered he had said that Louis Marizzi was out somewhere, and only the soft shushing sound of the water in the fountain broke the stillness, until her suitcases were stood down with a light crunch on the gravelled forecourt, and the boot lid snicked down quietly.

  `You like it?'

  He came and stood beside her for a moment, looking at the wide front of the house with green shutters and arched windows blazing with light. A long verandah ran the length of its front, the tiled floor spilling over with flowers in stone vases and urns—geraniums and many more exotic and unfamiliar ones.

  'It's—it's beautiful!' She turned and smiled, a little uncertainly. 'It really is lovely.'

  Ray Brauman grinned as he bent to pick up her suitcases. 'Yeah, and exactly like you see in Italy ! ' he said. 'Do you know Italy, Miss Fraser?'

  She shook her head, following him into the house itself, and only vaguely aware of what he was saying for the thudding beat of her own heart. `No—no, I've never been to Italy.'