Читать книгу Shores Of Love - Alex Ryder, Alex Ryder - Страница 7

NEITHER of them had heard the Land Rover drawing up outside. Avalon had just finished brushing the tangles out of her long, silvery blonde hair and was surveying the result critically in the mirror when she saw the reflection of the man striding through the door. She turned slowly, then stiffened and felt a hot flush of resentment rush to her cheeks. So last night it hadn’t been a dream after all. This was the same raven-haired man who’d gazed down at her on the bed and run his hands over her naked body.

Over six feet tall and wide-shouldered, he seemed to fill the room with his sheer dominating presence. In her ‘dream’ last night his features had been blurred and indistinct but now every detail imprinted itself on her mind—the finely chiselled nose and cheekbones, and the wide sensual mouth. Every uncompromising line added up to a display of proud, almost arrogant power and self-assurance. His clothes sat easily on his lean, muscular body—a plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves and light brown cords tucked into hard-worn combat boots. And those eyes! They were fixed on her now like two blue lasers scorching their way through the tattered fabric of her dignity.

Finally he spoke in a hard, clipped voice. ‘I’m Fraser of Suilvach. I hear that you’re the girl I’m supposed to take as my wife.’

Oh, my God! She’d been hoping that when he arrived he’d simply take her down to the village, apologise for Kirsty’s strange delusions and send her on her merry way, but now it was obvious that she had another crank on her hands. Well, enough was enough. She didn’t mind humouring Kirsty but she was damned if she’d play this game with him. She decided simply to ignore him, then had second thoughts. There was a dangerous, hard edge to this man and she guessed that people ignored him at their peril.

Impatient for an answer, he turned to Kirsty. ‘Has our little sea-witch eaten yet?’

Kirsty nodded happily. ‘Aye. There’s nothing wrong with her appetite.’

‘And does she have a name?’

‘It’s Avalon. I said it would be, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, Kirsty. You did.’ His blue eyes returned to Avalon and began surveying her doubtfully from head to toe, like a man deciding whether or not to buy a second-hand car. Finally he growled, ‘She’s pretty enough, I grant you that. Are you quite sure that she’s the one?’

Kirsty was busy rolling herself another cigarette. She licked the paper then bobbed her head. ‘There can’t be any doubt about it now, Fraser. Didn’t she just tell me herself that it was the Fire Magic that guided her here?’

Avalon groaned and began to sink into a morass of despair. Fairies! Fire Magic! This was like something from The Twilight Zone. Were they all crazy up here? God knew what kind of things they got up to at the full moon. Painted themselves blue and howled at the sky?

Suddenly she flinched and drew away as he reached out to touch her face, and he rapped, ‘Stand still, dammit I want to see that bruise on your temple.’

Anger at last overrode her caution and she snapped back at him, ‘My bruises have nothing to do with you. Kindly keep your hands to yourself. I don’t like being treated like some circus freak.’

There was a tense, crackling silence then Kirsty said placatingly, ‘The poor wee thing is still a bit confused, Fraser. She’ll need time to settle down.’

‘Aye,’ he observed grimly. ‘And she’ll have to learn some manners while she’s at it. When I ask a question I expect the courtesy of a reply. Perhaps you should go and tell your friends on the Nevay that I’ve no intention of saddling myself with a woman I know nothing about but who seems to be as cold as the sea that gave her birth.’

The threat obviously alarmed Kirsty and she hastened to reassure him again. ‘She’s a lovely little creature, Fraser. Just give her time. All this must be very strange to her.’

The Clan Chief didn’t seem the least bit moved by this desperate appeal to his patience. Glowering beneath his dark brows, he observed drily, ‘I’m getting the feeling that our green-eyed little mermaid thinks we’re a couple of fools.’ He continued to stare at Avalon in an unnerving silence which turned her mouth dry with apprehension, then he questioned her sharply. ‘I want to know how you got yourself washed up on my property last night like a piece of wreckage.’

She was tempted to tell him to go and ask the fairies but thought better of it. He was liable to bite her head off. ‘I was on a boat,’ she muttered. ‘I…I fell overboard and swam ashore.’

He raised a darkly mocking brow. ‘You fell overboard? That was a damned clumsy thing to do. What kind of boat was it?’

She eyed him truculently. ‘A motor-cruiser.’

‘How many people were on board?’

She sighed. ‘Five. Including me.’

‘And none of them saw this…accident happen?’

‘No.’ She avoided his eye. ‘It was dark and I was the only one on deck.’

‘Well, no doubt they’ve discovered your absence by now so presumably they’ll be reporting the incident to the authorities.’

She bit her lip and kept avoiding his eye. ‘Yes. I suppose so.’

He subjected her to another silent scrutiny then he turned towards the door and gestured for her to follow. ‘Right Let’s go.’

His cold, overbearing manner refuelled her anger and she entertained the notion of telling him to go to hell, but once again the danger of the situation she was in demanded caution. If she refused he wouldn’t think twice about slinging her over his shoulder. Until she found some way of getting back to civilisation and out of his clutches she’d no option but to put up with his tyrannical behaviour.

‘Fraser! Wait.’

He turned in the doorway. ‘Yes, Kirsty?’

The older woman looked worried. ‘Be good to her, Fraser. Promise me you’ll look after her. Until the Grand Ceilidh, at least.’

He sighed heavily. ‘You know what my plans are for the Grand Ceilidh.’

‘Aye. But plans can be changed. My…my friends don’t want Pamela here. That’s why they’ve sent Avalon. Please be kind to her.’

The Clan Chief eyed her sternly, then he relented. ‘All right, for your sake, Kirsty, I’ll see that she comes to no harm. She’ll stay with me until the ball and we’ll see what happens.’

Kirsty smiled with relief and Avalon desperately weighed up the chances of making a mad dash for freedom. Anywhere back in the land of reality would do.

As the Land Rover set off along the track she looked at him suspiciously. ‘Where are you taking me? I thought we were going to the village.’

He ignored her question. ‘How did you manage to fall overboard? The sea wasn’t rough last night.’

‘I…I tripped over a rope,’ she lied. ‘I told you. It was dark.’ She knew there was no use telling him the truth. He wouldn’t believe her. No one would.

The Land Rover was bucketing recklessly along the rough, potholed track that skirted the shore and rounded the headland to the south. She clung to her seat grimly and wished the maniac would slow down.

‘What was the name of the boat you were on?’ he shouted, apparently determined to go on with his relentless questioning.

‘C-C-Caprice,’ she told him through chattering teeth.

‘Where was it heading for?’

She glared at him in a temper and raised her voice over the noise of the engine and the rumble of the wheels. ‘I’ve no idea. And I can’t carry on a conversation while I’m being rattled about like this.’

He glanced at her sideways and made no comment, and as soon as his eyes were back on the road she made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. She had to endure another five minutes of the torturous journey then he slammed on the brakes, killed the engine, and got out.

She remained still, her arms folded and her eyes fixed straight ahead. He got out, then went round and opened her door. ‘Get out.’ To her surprise he actually helped her down to the ground. She looked around nervously, wondering what he had in mind for her now. On her left there was nothing but that barren, windswept moor while to her right the ground fell sharply down to the rocky coastline.

‘Why did you stop here?’ she demanded suspiciously.

‘This is where you were found last night.’ He pointed down to the black barnacled rocks. ‘Lying down there. Half-frozen and unconscious.’ He paused, then added quietly, ‘You’re an extremely lucky young lady. Old Gavin MacLean was driving by in his tractor and if he hadn’t looked down and spotted you you’d certainly have died from exposure.’

She tore her gaze away from the rocks and said humbly, ‘Yes. You’re right. If I ever see him I’ll thank him.’

‘You’ll see him,’ he assured her with an ironic smile. ‘In the meantime you can answer a few questions.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t feel like answering any more questions. I don’t see what right you’ve got to subject me to this kind of—’

‘I’ve got every right in the world. You’re not in London now. You’re on my property,’ he reminded her harshly. ‘Technically speaking you’re a trespasser and I could prosecute you. So while you’re here you will do as you’re told and you’ll answer any damned question I feel like asking. Is that clear?’

She gulped. He was like a wolf baring its fangs and she hurried to placate him. ‘All right. Calm down. What do you want to know?’

He gave a satisfied nod and permitted something vaguely resembling a cold smile to flit across his face. ‘That’s better. Now, we’ll start off with your full name.’

‘Avalon Rivers,’ she replied stiffly.

‘How old are you?’

‘Nineteen.’

‘Parents? Where do they live?’

She sniffed and knew she was going to catch a cold. ‘I don’t have any.’ She saw him frown and she explained patiently, ‘I never knew them. I was raised in an orphanage. As far as I know they were killed in a car accident when I was a year old.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ he said quietly.

‘There’s no need to be,’ she assured him tartly. ‘It has nothing to do with you.’

His face hardened again. ‘How about friends? Any close friends?’

A chill wind had sprung up, sending low grey clouds scurrying in from the sea. ‘Only acquaintances.’

‘What about boyfriends?’ he demanded.

She shook her head.

‘Hmmm…’ He gave her a long, sceptical look. ‘An attractive young girl like you without a boyfriend? That’s hard to believe.’

‘And I’m finding all this hard to believe,’ she flared in sudden resentment. ‘If you must know, I had a boyfriend but it’s all over. We had an argument and I told him that he was nothing but a snake and I walked out on him.’

He raised his brows in cold amusement. ‘That sounds interesting. Tell me about it.’

She glared at him, then sighed. ‘Listen…Is all this really necessary?’ The deep growl from his throat decided her that it was and she explained hastily, ‘We worked for the same company. I got an idea for processing the paperwork more efficiently and I told him about it. That very same day he took my idea to one of the directors and pretended it was his. It ended up with him getting the credit and the promotion. Needless to say I told him what I thought of him and walked out in disgust.’

He shook his head. ‘That was stupid. You should have stayed and waited for your chance to get even.’

Yes, she felt like saying. But we’re not all as cold-blooded as you, are we?

‘Did you ever sleep with him or are you still a virgin?’

The bluntness of his question rocked her and her face went red. ‘That’s none of your damn business.’

He growled like an angry bear again. ‘I’m making it my business. You’d better give me an answer or I’ll find out for myself right here and now.’

She glared back at him but the defiance in her eyes turned to horror as he begun unbuckling the belt around his waist. Backing away from him, she gasped, ‘You…you wouldn’t dare.’ But as soon as she’d said the words she knew that she was wrong. This cretin was ruthless enough to do anything. This was his land and he was the lord and master here. Even if there had been anyone around to hear her screaming for help, they’d make sure to keep well out of the way.

‘I—I’ve never slept with any man,’ she said breathlessly. ‘That’s the honest truth. I swear it. Now, don’t you dare touch me.’

He eyed her darkly for a moment then reluctantly he fastened his belt. ‘It had better be the truth,’ he warned her. ‘Because if I do decide to take you as my wife and I find out on our wedding night that you’ve been lying to me you’ll live to regret it.’

‘Well, you’ve got no worries on that score,’ she grated. ‘I’ve no intention of marrying you. In fact, if you were the only man left on this planet I’d stay as far away from you as possible. You’re the most detestable, arrogant—’

‘I don’t think you’ve got any choice in the matter, Miss Rivers,’ he broke in coldly. ‘Your fate is entirely in my hands and you’re going to stay here until I’ve made up my mind whether you’re worthy or not to become First Lady of this Clan.’

She put her hands on her hips, tossed her head and scoffed at him, ‘Is that a fact? And what’s to stop me leaving here right now? If I walk far enough I’ll be bound to reach a main road and get a lift south. Or perhaps you’re hoping that your fairies will turn me into a frog or something?’

A thin smile twisted his lips. ‘Nothing quite as drastic as that. But it’s forty miles of single-track road before you’d ever have a chance of getting a lift. Perhaps two cars a week use the road out of here. The only other way is by boat and since I own all the boats here I merely have to give orders that you’re not to be allowed aboard in any circumstances.’

Filled with a sense of outrage, she spluttered at him, ‘You can’t do that! You can’t keep me here a prisoner against my will!’

His blue eyes mocked her. ‘I can do anything I like with you, my dear girl,’ he said softly. ‘Who’s going to stop me? Your friends from the Caprice?’ He saw her bite her lip and he laughed. ‘I don’t think we need worry about them coming here. Anyway, we’ll talk about them later. At the moment it’s you I’m interested in.’

She shivered and looked at him helplessly. ‘Look—I’m freezing. Are we going to stand here all day?’

‘Yes, if necessary.’ He leaned into the Land Rover, then took out a travelling-rug and handed it to her. ‘Put this around your shoulders.’

She wrapped herself up then wondered if it would do any good appealing to his better nature—always assuming that he had such a thing. ‘Look,’ she said quietly, ‘there isn’t any sense in this, is there? If you want a wife why don’t you choose a local girl? I mean—apart from needing a personality transplant—I’m sure most women find you attractive. But you and I? We don’t even like each other, do we? And please don’t give me all that rubbish about legends and magic fires and fairies. I wasn’t born yesterday.’

The blue eyes measured her coldly, sending another shiver through her in spite of the rug around her shoulders. ‘Kirsty is the one who believes in fairies,’ he snapped. ‘I believe in hard facts. Nevertheless, I respect Kirsty. Everyone here does. That’s why I’ve promised her that I’ll look after you.’

‘Until you’ve made up your mind whether I’m worth marrying or not,’ she observed drily. ‘My feelings don’t even matter to you, do they?’

‘You’ve only got yourself to blame for the position you’re in,’ he said coldly. ‘No one invited you here. I’ve got better things to do than play nursemaid to a bad-tempered little teenager. Your presence here is going to cause me considerable problems.’

‘Well, I’m sorry. If I’d known I was going to be all this trouble I’d have just let myself drown instead of swimming.’

He ignored her sarcasm. ‘One fact I can’t ignore is that Kirsty seems to like you. Whatever it is she sees in you eludes me for the moment, but I’m going to find out.’

She challenged him again, indignantly. I’m sure there are plenty of women here who’d jump at the chance of being your wife. Why pick on me? I’m entitled to know that, at least.’

‘You’re still a stranger,’ he told her bluntly. ‘All a stranger is entitled to here is food, shelter and hospitality—which you’ve been given.’

She glared at him in silent exasperation, then tried a new idea. ‘I don’t know anything about you, this part of the country, or the people. I wouldn’t fit in here and I’m certainly not worthy enough to be the First Lady of anything. I was shunted from one foster home to another when I was a kid. I’ve got no breeding whatsoever. You’re just wasting your time with me.’

Those damned eyes of his mocked her again and he growled, ‘Aye. I suspect you’re right. But I’m the one who decides, not you. So from now on, Miss Rivers, you’ll answer my questions without resorting to lies or evasion. Is that clear?’

‘I’m not in the habit of telling lies,’ she retorted angrily. ‘And I object to the way you—’

His voice cut through her protestation like a blade of cold steel. ‘Like you, I wasn’t born yesterday. If a boat has only got five crew and one of them suddenly disappears the others are bound to notice sooner or later, wouldn’t you agree? First thing this morning I contacted the nearest coastguard station to find out if any ship had reported a missing crew member. Well, no such report had been made. How do you account for that, Miss Rivers?’

‘Perhaps they…they haven’t got round to reporting it yet,’ she said evasively.

Suddenly her shoulder was grabbed in a vice-like grip and he thrust his face closer to hers. ‘They didn’t make any report because they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. That’s the truth, isn’t it, Miss Rivers?’

She ran her tongue nervously over her lips. The man’s anger was like an icy blast from the polar wastes, chilling her to the marrow. ‘L-look,’ she stammered. ‘I—I—’

‘Save your breath,’ he grated. ‘Two hours after you were found on this beach last night a motor-cruiser called Caprice tied up at a deserted pier fifteen miles north of here. The police and Customs were waiting and your friends are now in custody.’

Her feeling of relief that Smith and his confederates had been caught was short-lived at the realisation that she was now being accused of being part of the gang. In wide-eyed consternation she blurted, ‘You…you’ve got it all wrong.’

‘Have I?’ he asked, with harsh scepticism. ‘By your own admission you were a member of the crew. And if you hadn’t “accidentally” fallen overboard you, too, would be in custody.’

She winced at the pressure of his hand. ‘Let go my shoulder, damn you. You’re hurting me.’

When he let her go she glared up at him. ‘All right! So I did lie to you. But I was just the cook on that damned boat. I didn’t know what they were up to. And I didn’t fall overboard. I jumped.’ She paused and gave a bitter sigh. ‘It’s a long story and you probably wouldn’t believe a word of it, anyway.’

He studied her shrewdly, then growled, ‘I might. But no more lies. Understand? If you aren’t part of that gang then what were you doing on the boat in the first place?’

‘I told you,’ she muttered. ‘I was just the cook.’ ‘So you say,’ he derided. ‘But you’ll have to do better than that.’

‘Dammit! I’m telling you the truth.’

‘How long had you been working for them?’

She sighed. ‘Only a few days. I met them in Portugal. My hotel room—’

‘What were you doing in Portugal?’

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he’d wrung every last detail from her so she began again. ‘After the row with my ex-boyfriend I quit my job and decided to take a holiday.’

‘To mend your broken heart, no doubt.’

She ignored the sarcastic interruption and went on. ‘I drew all my savings from the bank, locked up my flat and caught the first available plane. Anyway, I spent the next two weeks swimming and lazing around on the beach and vowing that no man would ever use me or make a fool of me again.’ She paused and eyed him bitterly. ‘Of course I was wrong, as usual, wasn’t I?’

His face was unreadable and she continued reluctantly, ‘It was the day before I was due to come home when someone broke into my hotel apartment and I lost everything. Money, passport, clothes…’

She had hardly been able to believe her eyes at first when she’d seen the empty drawers and overturned mattress. She’d only been gone for ten minutes and her room had been ransacked! Whoever had done it must have climbed up on to the balcony and entered through the open window.

In a fury she had run downstairs to the reception desk and reported the break-in to the manager.

He was sympathetic but adamant that she had no claim against the hotel. ‘Madam should have made sure that the window was securely latched before she went out,’ he said. They would inform the police, of course, but there was little hope of catching the culprit and recovering her property. Surely madam had taken out insurance against this sort of thing happening?

Madam hadn’t, and she turned from the desk in dismay. With the loose change in her pocket she had barely enough left to buy lunch. And how was she going to get home tomorrow without a plane ticket? She couldn’t even think of anyone in London who could forward her a loan. With her spirits at zero she made her way outside and stood on the broad tree-lined pavement completely at a loss as to what to do now.

‘They weren’t much help, were they? I couldn’t help overhearing.’

She turned at the sound of the voice and looked at the middle-aged man who’d followed her out Instinctively on her guard, she took in his appearance. He seemed harmless enough, but you never could tell. At least he was well-dressed and groomed. The typical English gentleman abroad. Dark blazer and flannels and some sort of regimental tie over an immaculately white shirt. He had a clipped moustache and a friendly smile on his rather bland face.

‘No, they weren’t,’ she answered at last. ‘But it was my own stupid fault.’

‘Damned awkward being stranded in a foreign country,’ he sympathised. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Roger Smith. Here with my wife and a couple of friends.’

She shook hands and gave him a polite smile. ‘Avalon Rivers.’

He looked at her sadly. ‘Did they actually take everything?’

She gave a resigned nod. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get home now. My hotel room is paid for tonight but tomorrow I’ll have to sleep on the beach then try to get a job somewhere.’

He shook his head doubtfully. ‘I think you might need a work permit. As for sleeping on the beach, I wouldn’t recommend it. Far too many odd-looking characters going around.’ He paused as if he’d had a sudden inspiration. ‘Look here, Miss Rivers…I don’t know if the idea will appeal to you or not but there is a way I can help you out of your predicament. It’s entirely up to you, of course.’

Experience had taught her to be wary of unsolicited offers of help. There were usually strings attached.

As if sensing her reluctance he went on quickly, ‘The truth of the matter is that you’d be doing both my wife and me a great favour. We’re sailing back to England tonight but the girl who was doing our cooking has decided to stay on. She seems to have formed some kind of attachment to a local boy and is quite devastated at the thought of leaving him. Anyway, the position is yours if you want it.’

It sounded almost too good to be true and she said cautiously, ‘It’s a wonderful offer, Mr Smith, and I’m grateful, but I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook.’

He laughed and brushed her objection aside. ‘I admire your honesty, but you’ve nothing to worry about. We don’t go in for haute cuisine aboard the Caprice. Just plain, simple cooking. I’m sure you can manage that.’

A voice in her head was telling her to be careful. All this seemed like too much of a coincidence to sit comfortably, but she stifled it. She was in danger of becoming a distrustful cynic. Anyway, the offer and Mr Smith seemed genuine enough. If she passed up this chance she’d still be left with the problem of how to get back to England.

‘The trip shouldn’t take too long,’ he went on persuasively. ‘And of course I’ll see that you’re well paid at the end of it.’

That was enough to settle the matter and she smiled at him. ‘All right, Mr Smith. When would you like me to start?’

He rubbed his hands together briskly. ‘Good show. I’ll take you to the boat now and show you around.’

They went by taxi to the harbour where he led her down the gangway on to the deck of a motor-cruiser. She knew nothing about boats but she could tell affluence when she saw it. Beneath the bridge there was a hatchway and once they were down the short flight of steps he proudly showed her the layout. There were two large and luxuriously furnished cabins at the front. The main lounge and dining-room was amidships, and to the rear of that was the galley where the meals were prepared. A door led from the rear of the galley and he pushed it open. ‘This will be your own cabin. It’s small but I’m sure you’ll find it comfortable enough.’

She showed her appreciation with a smile. ‘It’s very nice.’

He beamed with pleasure. ‘Now, then…My wife and my friends are shopping at the moment. I’ve to meet them for lunch back at the hotel. We’ll be gone for most of the day and don’t expect to be back until late this evening.’ He fished a sheet of paper from his inside pocket and handed it to her. ‘This is a list of provisions we need. I was going to fetch them myself but this can be your first job.’ Next he handed her a card. ‘This is the name and address of the supplier. Everything has already been paid for. I’ll give you money for a taxi and you can go and collect them some time this afternoon.’

She stopped telling her tale and looked at Fraser resentfully. ‘You don’t believe a word of this, do you? You think I’m making it up as I go along.’

‘Get on with it,’ he growled impatiently. ‘At the moment I’m keeping an open mind on the matter.’

She glared at him in angry silence for a moment longer then went on, ‘Well, there were a lot of provisions. Four medium-sized crates, in fact, and I wondered why they needed so much stuff for a short trip to England. The taxi driver just left me and the crates on the quayside and I had to manhandle them aboard myself.

‘Anyway, Mr Smith and his party came back about nine-thirty. He introduced me to his wife and the other couple then he went to the bridge and I heard the engines start up. When we were clear of the harbour he came down and examined the crates. Three of them were filled with cans of peaches and he told me to lay them aside because they were a present for someone back in England. I thought it odd at the time. Whoever heard of giving tinned peaches as a present?

‘Well, everything went well until last night. I’d been keeping out of the way as much as possible and just doing my job. I wasn’t keen on the two women, anyway. In spite of their airs and graces you could tell they were a pair of hard-bitten good-time girls. They wore flash jewellery and—’

‘Never mind the women,’ snapped Fraser. ‘I’m only interested in what happened last night’

She pouted at him. ‘I’m doing my best.’ She took a deep breath then went on…

It had been the sticky patch on the galley floor that had caught her attention and she had traced the source to one of the cans of peaches. Rather than let them go to waste she had pulled the leaking can from the crate, opened it with a tin-opener and emptied the contents into a bowl. She had looked at the result and frowned. A big can and so little an amount of peaches? She had peered into the empty can and found that it had been split into two separate compartments. Turning the can over, she had attacked the bottom with the opener and spilled the contents on to the worktop. White powder? My God! It had been cocaine or something very like it!

‘How did you know it was drugs?’ Fraser asked her.

She eyed him scornfully. ‘Well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t talcum powder. Not after the trouble someone had taken to hide it.’

His mouth twitched and he nodded. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, I opened another tin and that was the same. And then it suddenly dawned on me that I was the one who’d brought it aboard. If Customs had stopped and searched the boat before we left Portugal Smith could have denied all knowledge of it. He could have said that I applied for the job as cook then used the opportunity to smuggle the drugs myself. It would have been his word against mine. Anyway, that was when Mr Smith came through and caught me. To cut a long story short, he pulled out a gun then locked me in my cabin and said he’d deal with me later.’

‘I’d prefer to hear all the details,’ Fraser said curtly. ‘Everything!’

She shrugged. ‘At first he tried to deny that it was drugs, then when he saw that I didn’t believe him he tried to bribe me. I told him what I thought of drug dealers and that when we got ashore I was going straight to the police. That’s when he got nasty and pulled the gun.’

A shiver ran down her spine. It was probably delayed shock, she told herself. She’d be having nightmares for the next six months and peach melbas would never taste the same. ‘He…He was going to kill me,’ she said in a subdued voice. ‘I could see it in his eyes. He only needed to wait until we were further out to sea then he could dump me overboard and watch me drown.’

She closed her eyes and shivered again and suddenly she found herself being supported in Fraser’s arms. He held her tightly for a moment and the world stopped swaying.

‘I…I’m all right now,’ she muttered. ‘You can let

go.’ He led her to a rock and made her sit down then he went to the Land Rover and returned with a flask. ‘Take a sip of this. You’ll feel better.’

She raised it to her lips and drank, then coughed and spluttered, ‘What…what was that?’

‘Whisky and honey. A well-known remedy around here for everything from depression to pneumonia.’

A warm glow spread throughout her and she breathed deeply at the sweet, clean air. God, it was so good to be alive. Even in a place like this.

As she got to her feet he eyed her closely then, apparently satisfied that she wasn’t going to keel over again, he said, ‘How did you manage to escape from the locked cabin?’

‘I climbed out through the porthole,’ she said mat-ter-of-factly. ‘It was dark but I knew we were close to the shore. Then I saw the light and I knew there must be people so I jumped.’ She shivered again. ‘What I didn’t bargain for was how cold the water would be. I was frozen stiff and getting cramp. I remember a big wave…and crashing down on a rock…Then waking up in Kirsty’s cottage.’

He studied her in silence, his eyes betraying nothing, then he remarked drily, ‘That’s a pretty farfetched story.’

She made a sound of disgust ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me.’

‘I find it hard to believe that anyone could squeeze themselves through a motor-cruiser porthole. Even someone as slim as you.’

‘Well, I did,’ she retorted. ‘It wasn’t easy. I got stuck but managed it in the end.’

‘Hmm…’ His blue eyes surveyed her again, then he said quietly, ‘Take down your jeans.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘What…?’

‘You heard me. Take them down, now.’

She backed away from him in alarm. ‘Don’t be disgusting. I’ll do no such thing.’

His hand reached for her threateningly. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer me to do it for you.’

‘D-don’t you dare lay a finger on me,’ she warned. ‘I’ll scratch your eyes out.’

‘For God’s sake, girl, be sensible!’ he rasped. ‘I’m not going to rape you. When I do avail myself of that luscious little body of yours you can rest assured that it’ll be in more comfortable surroundings than this.’

His statement that he wasn’t going to sexually assault her there and then but that he would definitely get round to it sooner or later did nothing for her peace of mind. ‘Then why do you want me to take my jeans off?’ she demanded.

‘If you had trouble getting through the porthole then you’ll have abrasions. Probably on your hips,’ he explained slowly. ‘I examined you last night for injuries and the only abrasion I saw was on your temple.’

Her cheeks flared at the memory of his hands all over her and she replied heatedly, ‘Then you couldn’t have looked closely enough. Not that you had any damn right to in the first place.’

His eyes weighed her again, then he growled, ‘If there are no marks then I can only assume that everything you’ve told me is a pack of lies.’

‘They’re there, I tell you,’ she insisted vehemently. ‘They were stinging like hell when I had a bath this morning.’

‘Then show me.’

‘Get lost.’

He took another step towards her and she backed into the Land Rover, her heart thudding at the expression of harsh resolution on his face. ‘All right!’ she yelled at him. ‘Don’t touch me. I’ll show you.’ Turning her back on him, she unzipped her jeans, slid them down over her hips, hooked the hem of her briefs upwards then turned sideways and thrust her hip at him. ‘There. See for yourself.’

He grunted. ‘Now the other one.’

She repeated the process with her other hip then looked at him resentfully. ‘Are you satisfied? Have you seen enough?’

He watched as she hurriedly did up her jeans then his eyes glinted with amusement. ‘Yes. For the time being at least. When we get back to the house you can put some ointment on those scratches.’

She looked at him in alarm. ‘What house?’

‘Mine, of course. You’ll be living there from now on.’

The idea didn’t appeal to her in the least. It sounded too much like going into the lion’s den. ‘In your dungeon, no doubt?’ she challenged acidly. ‘Chained to the wall like the rest of your prisoners? I think I’ll decline the invitation if it’s all the same to you.’

He gave a sigh of mild irritation. ‘I wish you’d stop being so damned awkward. Anyway, you’ve no option in the matter.’

Now, at last, she had the chance to mock him for a change. ‘Of course I have,’ she said smugly. ‘I can get in touch with the police and give evidence against that gang. No doubt they’ll find me accommodation in a hotel until the trial is over, then I can go back to London.’

He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t advise it, Avalon. At the moment Smith probably thinks that you drowned last night. If you suddenly turn up as a witness against him then he and his friends might try to implicate you out of sheer spite. It would be a case of your word against theirs, odds of four to one. The judge might not be so easily convinced of your innocence as I was.’ He shrugged philosophically. ‘It would be a pity seeing someone as young and pretty as yourself languishing in prison for the next ten years.’

Again her spirits plunged and she stared at him bitterly. ‘I see. So now it’s blackmail, is it? Either I agree to stay here or you’ll hand me over to the police?’

‘I hadn’t thought about that…’ he drawled. ‘But now that you mention it…’

‘You’re despicable,’ she snorted. ‘I think I’d rather spend ten years in prison than be married to a man like you.’

He grinned at her and shook his head. ‘No, you wouldn’t. Now that I’m satisfied that you aren’t a part of that gang after all you’ll find me much friendlier.’

Her mouth dropped open as she gaped at him. ‘What? Are you seriously telling me that you thought that I…I…?’ She spluttered at him in indignation. ‘For God’s sake! Do I look like a drug smuggler?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. What do drug smugglers look like? Anyway, you were certainly acting as if you had something to hide when I asked you how you got here.’

‘I hate people who deal in drugs,’ she muttered, rubbing her hip and thinking of Smith.

‘And so do I. At least we’ve got that much in common.’

She eyed him warily. ‘Well, don’t let it go to your head. And don’t start getting any funny ideas. If I have to stay here I’ll feel a lot safer in Kirsty’s house than in yours.’

‘Out of the question,’ he said firmly. ‘I can’t get to know you better if we’re living a mile apart’ He paused and flashed his white teeth at her. ‘Besides, Kirsty thinks that it was her fairies that sent you to me. We’d better humour the old dear…just in case.’