Storm Force. Sara Craven

      ‘Really?’ Sebastian’s brows rose, and he looked frankly taken aback. ‘Won’t the hovel be a little bleak in October?’

      ‘The cottage,’ Maggie said with emphasis, ‘is perfectly fine at any time of year. But, as it happens, I’m not going there for once. I’m heading for the sun. Mauritius, to be exact.’

      ‘Going alone?’ Sebastian followed her into the bedroom, and picked up another bikini, surveying it with a grin. ‘Very—er, basic.’

      ‘No.’ Maggie’s tone held a hint of challenge, as she snatched the tiny garment from him. ‘I’m going with Robin.’

      ‘Good lord!’ Sebastian said blankly. ‘You mean Mummy’s actually let him off the leash at last?’ He encountered Maggie’s baleful look, and flung up his hands. ‘OK. I’m sorry and it’s none of my business. But neither Louie nor I can understand what you see in that stuffed shirt. However, if he makes you happy …’

      ‘He does,’ Maggie said levelly.

      ‘Then have a wonderful holiday.’ Sebastian sent her a placatory smile. ‘Why don’t I make us both some coffee?’

      ‘Where is Louie? Why isn’t she with you?’ Maggie asked as he returned with a tray a few minutes later. ‘She’s all right, isn’t she?’ she added with sudden alarm. ‘And the baby?’

      ‘They’re both blooming,’ Sebastian reassured her. ‘But we both felt it was better for her to stay in New York this time.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘I’m here on business, Mags, trouble-shooting for a major client. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the headlines.’

      ‘Headlines?’ Maggie gave him a puzzled look as she took her beaker of coffee, then her brows snapped together in a thunderous frown. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you’re here to rescue that bastard Jay Delaney.’

      Sebastian perched on a corner of the dressing-table. ‘That’s a fairly harsh judgement.’

      ‘Harsh?’ Maggie echoed in disbelief. ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, Seb. He got drunk and raped a girl. You can’t possibly be on his side.’

      ‘I can and I am,’ Sebastian told her levelly. ‘He may have been accused of rape, admittedly, but that doesn’t mean he’s guilty. No charges have been brought yet.’

      ‘Of course he’s guilty,’ Maggie said impatiently. ‘It’s perfectly obvious what happened. He’s the big macho television star who’s totally irresistible to women, and for once a girl tried to say no to him. And naturally his over-sized masculine ego couldn’t take rejection. I hope he gets all that’s coming to him.’

      Sebastian stared at her. ‘What’s happened to the idea of someone being innocent until proved otherwise? Where’s your womanly compassion?’

      ‘I’m keeping that for his unfortunate victim.’ Maggie wrestled to close the lid of her case. ‘And if you’re here to try to do a public relations whitewash job …’

      ‘There’ll be no whitewash,’ Sebastian said quietly. ‘Jay has agreed to “help the police with their enquiries”, to use the classic phrase. I’m here to see that he’s protected from the more virulent attacks of the gutter Press, that’s all.’

      ‘What a job,’ Maggie said bitterly. ‘Minder to an over-sexed yob, with a three-day growth and sprayed-on jeans.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, Mags.’ Sebastian looked shaken. ‘I’ve never known you so bigoted—so vitriolic. You’ve never even met the guy. Have you ever watched his series?’

      ‘Not if I can help it,’ she said curtly. ‘I don’t belong to the school of thought which says that the world’s problems can all be solved by an undercover agent with a gun in one hand and a woman in the other.’ She gave a small angry laugh. ‘He’s probably started to believe his own publicity, and is convinced he’s above the law in some godlike way. Or does he think because the fantasy girls in the series surrender to him that real women must as well?’

      ‘We haven’t exactly discussed that aspect of the situation,’ said Sebastian. His expression was edgy, worried. ‘Mags, I’m sure you’re doing him an injustice. The girl who’s accused him is a nightclub hostess—not exactly a defenceless schoolgirl.’

      ‘Oh, I see.’ Maggie jerkily fastened the straps of her case. ‘And does her occupation give her no rights over her own body, or is anyone rich and famous allowed to use her as the whim takes them?’

      ‘No, of course not.’ Sebastian gave her a baffled glance. ‘But doesn’t it strike you as just a bit odd that she went to a newspaper to make her complaint, and not the police?’

      ‘It’s a man’s world,’ said Maggie bitterly. ‘She probably knew when it was her word against Jay Delaney’s that she wouldn’t be believed.’

      Sebastian sighed heavily. ‘Ginger, I can’t reason with you when you’re like this. If you were to meet Jay—hear his side of things, you might …’

      ‘He’s the last person in the world I’d ever want to meet. I find men like Jay Delaney quite repulsive. And I’m glad that he’s come across at least one girl who doesn’t think he’s God’s gift, and is prepared to say so in public. I hope she says it in court.’

      ‘No,’ said Sebastian with sudden harshness. ‘You prefer a mother’s boy, don’t you, Margaret? A wimp who has to travel half-way across the world to find the guts to go to bed with you.’

      ‘Seb!’ Maggie’s cry held real distress.

      He flushed deeply, and came across to her, patting her clumsily on the shoulder.

      ‘Oh, lord, I didn’t mean it Maggie. Forgive me. We shouldn’t be quarrelling about this. I shouldn’t have come here …’

      ‘Of course you should,’ she said quickly. ‘I’d never have forgiven you if I’d found out you were in London and hadn’t been to see me. We’ll just have to agree to differ on the subject of Jay Delaney.’ She paused. ‘I’m only sorry I’m going away. We could have had a meal or something.’

      ‘How long are you going to be in Mauritius?’ Sebastian gave her a meditative glance.

      ‘Three whole glorious weeks,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, I can’t wait.’

      ‘Well, you won’t have to for much longer.’ Sebastian forced a smile. ‘I really hope it all works out for you, Ginger.’ He dropped a light kiss on her hair. ‘Now, I’ll get out of the way, and leave you in peace. Look after yourself.’

      ‘I always do,’ she called after him.

      Presently she heard her front door close and, collecting clean undies and the cool navy dress and jacket she was going to wear on the journey, she went into the bathroom.

      She was disturbed by what had happened, she realised, as she lay in the warm water. She had adored Seb from the first moment Louie had introduced them, and they had never had anything approaching a cross word before.

      Oh, damn Jay Delaney, she thought bitterly. Why couldn’t he use some other PR company to represent him? And why does he have to be Seb’s personal client? Someone like that doesn’t deserve Seb’s loyalty.

      The story had broken first in one of the Sunday tabloids. Jay Delaney had given a party to mark the end of filming for his top-rated series, McGuire. It had started in a nightclub, and had moved back to the hotel where he had a suite. His victim, Debra Burrows, had worked at the nightclub and been invited to the party with some of the other hostesses.

      On her own admission, Debbie had had too much to drink, and had gone into one of the other rooms to sleep it off. When she woke it was the early hours of the morning, and everyone else had left. She was alone with Jay Delaney, who had made it clear he expected to have sex with her, and when she refused he had raped her.

      ‘I