Dark Oasis. HELEN BROOKS

course you were,’ he said softly, ‘no one is disputing that, but the accident has merely allowed your mind to hide behind this incident, take refuge if you like.’

      ‘No, I don’t like.’ She glared at him, far more shaken than she would admit. ‘Are you saying I’m unbalanced, is that it?’

      ‘Mon dieu...’ The exclamation was made in the form of a curse. ‘I have never met such an awkward, difficult—’

      ‘And where is this wonderful doctor who has made such a profound diagnosis without even telling me?’ she asked angrily. ‘Do I actually get to see him or what?’

      ‘After breakfast.’ The nurse had just entered carrying a loaded tray, her bright black eyes flashing from one angry face to the other before concentrating on the food with lowered gaze and a tactfully bland face. ‘I’m joining you, is that all right?’

      ‘Fine; you’re paying after all.’ She regretted the coarseness of the retort as soon as it left her lips and raised her eyes instantly to his face, her mouth trembling. ‘I’m sorry, that was awful. I’m being awful, it’s just that—’

      ‘Eat your breakfast.’ His tone was firm but not unkind, the hard handsome face expressionless.

      ‘I don’t think I could eat anything—’

      ‘You will, if I have to force-feed you every mouthful,’ he replied softly, still in the same firm, emotionless voice.

      She glared at him angrily and then met the full force of the startlingly cat-like gaze that suddenly told her she would lose this particular battle if she persevered. She gulped, gave him a blazing scowl that could have melted stone at thirty paces and gave in, discovering as she bit into a warm crusty croissant that she was hungry after all.

      He didn’t speak again until she was finishing her second cup of coffee, and when he did she jumped so violently that most of the semi-hot liquid left in the cup splashed on to the white covers. ‘Have you made a decision?’

      ‘A decision?’ She raised her eyes to meet his, knowing exactly what he meant but playing for time as her mind raced back and forth seeking a solution to the impossible situation.

      He shook his tawny head slowly as he stretched lazily on the stool, his face dark and sardonic and his mouth twisted with cynical amusement. ‘Yes, a decision,’ he intoned drily. ‘And do not insult my intelligence by asking what about. I really could not take that.’ As he stood up his bulk seemed to fill the small room, dominating the white surroundings with a menacing energy that suddenly made her breathless. ‘I have to go. I have an appointment at nine.’

      ‘Oh, right...’ She raised a hand to her face to brush back a lock of hair and was annoyed to see it was shaking, and then felt doubly humiliated when she saw Gerard had noticed it too.

      ‘Do I terrify you so much?’ His voice was soft, and as her eyes flashed to his she saw he was not smiling, that all amusement and mockery had left the hard masculine face. ‘I do not wish to do so. You remind me of a little bird I found some months ago fluttering along in the road with a broken wing. It pecked me several times when I picked it up, due to its great fear, and then—’ He stopped abruptly and she stared at him, fascinated by the thought of this giant of a man bothering about something so small and insignificant as an injured bird.

      ‘And then?’ she asked quietly.

      ‘Its heart simply stopped beating.’ There was something in his eyes she couldn’t read, something veiled behind the startling hypnotic gaze trained on her face. ‘If it had just relaxed a little, trusted me a little, I would have been able to help it.’

      She licked her lips nervously and then stopped abruptly as his eyes followed the gesture, lingering on the tremulous curve of her mouth.

      ‘That is all I wish to do with this little bird.’ He smiled very slowly but for the life of her she couldn’t respond. ‘Just help out. But—’ he walked to the door and opened it quietly, turning with his hand on the brass knob to glance back at her again ‘—if you do not want to come to my home then you do not have to. It just seemed obvious, that is all. The doctor will be along shortly and I will return at lunchtime, when you can tell me what you have decided. If you choose to avail yourself of my hospitality you must be ready to leave then. Otherwise—’ he shrugged Latin-style ‘—you may stay on here while you make other arrangements.’ And then he had gone, the door shutting with a firm click only to open again a second later. ‘One more thing—my sister lives with me in Marrakesh so you will not be entirely without a chaperon.’ The heavy eyebrows quirked mockingly. ‘Not that you will need one, of course.’

      Alone again she stared at the closed door with a small frown wrinkling her brow. ‘Not that you will need one.’ She sank back against the pillows feeling both disgruntled and relieved. He obviously didn’t find her in the least attractive, that much he had made crystal-clear. And that was good. Of course it was. She brushed an inoffensive crumb savagely off the sheet. She could just imagine his taste in women; voluptuous, sexy, possessing good bodies and the knowledge of how to use them. Big breasts, generous hips, pouting mouths... The mental description suddenly sparked the ghost of something in her mind, an image she couldn’t drag out of the misty darkness to examine more closely before it had gone. She stared blindly across the small room, her face white with strain. Perhaps she had been more right than she knew when she asked if Gerard thought she was unbalanced; this certainly couldn’t be normal. She groaned softly as she turned over on her side to await the appearance of the all-knowing doctor. Well, one thing was certain; there was no way, no way at all, she was leaving this place with Gerard Dumont, sister or no sister.

      

      They left the clinic at precisely half-past three in the afternoon, and after the relative coolness of the air-conditioned building the white heat outside was overpowering.

      ‘All right?’ Gerard’s eyes were tight on her face as they walked to his car, a low-slung sports model in jet black that looked as if it would bite if provoked.

      ‘Fine.’ She wasn’t, of course. The heat was amazing but it was the dazzling brilliance of the blazing light that was causing problems, sending sharp little pinpricks of pain through her head as though it were being methodically stabbed with a keenly pointed blade. But even that wasn’t the main reason for the trembling that seemed to have taken over her limbs and the palpitations that were causing a violent, irregular beating of her heart and a sick churning in her stomach. It was him. This virile, overwhelmingly masculine man at her side who dwarfed her not inconsiderable height by a good six inches and exuded an air of pure unadulterated sensual magnetism that was both dangerous and darkly attractive.

      Why had she ever agreed to leave with him? she asked herself silently as she slid into the beautiful car just as her legs felt as though they wouldn’t support her for another second. She hadn’t meant to. But somehow... somehow he had swept all her objections aside with cool logic and a distant kind of friendliness that reassured even as she wondered if it were genuine. The call from his sister had helped too. She glanced at him now as he slid into the car at her side. ‘Why did you ask Colette to phone me?’ she asked tentatively. ‘I mean—’

      ‘I know what you mean,’ he said mockingly as the sleek car growled into life. ‘And you are right, partly...’ He turned to eye her briefly, his face cynical and closed. ‘You thought I had used her to promote what I wanted, is that it?’ She stared at him without answering, wondering if it were too late to jump out of the car and run back to the relative protection of the impersonal clinic. ‘Well, maybe I did, but it is for your own good, let me make that perfectly clear. This is a foreign country, or we’ll assume it is a foreign country until we find out differently,’ he added as she opened her mouth to make that very point, ‘and one does not always play by the Marquis of Queensbery’s rules here.’ The tawny gaze was glittering now, reflecting the sun’s brilliance as he held her wide grey eyes mesmerised. ‘You are very definitely the bird with the broken wing at the moment, however much you dislike the analogy, and as such prey to all kinds of dangers. Do you know that in some quarters you would fetch