Shores Of Love. Alex Ryder

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