Dark Oasis

‘I think you are a very absurd young lady.’ The icy voice cut short her passionate outburst as though with a knife. ‘Impolite, churlish, ridiculous... Need I go on?’ He was angry; she couldn’t believe how angry. ‘Do you seriously think that I am so short of female companions that I have to spirit one away to my home—is that it?’ He wasn’t shouting, in fact his voice was very controlled and infinitely cutting. ‘If you want me to be brutal, I do not find you sexually attractive at all. The offer was one of friendship, from one member of the human race to another in distress. That is all. That is all.’ He glared at her and took a long deep pull of air before continuing. ‘Now you have made your feeling perfectly clear, and so I will—’

What he would or would not do they never found out because at that moment Kit’s control finally snapped. The flood of tears and sensation of utter and absolute desolation blinded and deafened her to everything but her own misery, and as she raised her hands to cover her face, her body shaking helplessly, she could hear the sound of her own wailing but could do nothing to control it.

‘Mon dieu...’ His voice was a low growl but the next moment she had been lifted wholesale out of the bed and on to his lap as he sat down on the ruffled covers, holding her tight as he swayed back and forth as one did soothing a devastated child, his voice low and soft now and speaking a crooning stream of endearments in French of which she understood not a word but found infinitely comforting to her terrified mind. And she was terrified, she acknowledged faintly as the hard male bulk of him banished the frantic fear for a time. Nothing, nothing could be worse than this monstrous, gut-wrenching dread that she would never remember who she was again, that she would be left in this strange, alien half-world where even her own face was that of a stranger, with no memories, no recollection of a past life and with only an empty, uncertain future to look forward to.

CHAPTER TWO

QUITE when she began to find Gerard Dumont’s closeness disturbing rather than comforting she wasn’t sure. It might have been something to do with the warm male fragrance emanating from the massive frame, a mixture of spicy aftershave and a faint lemony smell, or it could have been the controlled power in the huge body enfolding hers, or even the sound of his voice, deep and seductively attractive as he murmured in his native tongue. Whatever, as the storm of weeping passed she began to feel acutely uncomfortable and vaguely threatened. But there was another emotion there too, one that made her skin tingle and her stomach tighten with a dull ache she didn’t recognise.

‘I’m sorry.’ As she made to move off his lap he let her go instantly, his eyes searching as they washed over her face.

‘Have you any idea where all that hostility comes from?’ he asked levelly as he stood up and drew back the covers for her to climb back into bed. ‘What has happened to make you feel so threatened by the male species?’

‘Threatened?’ She stared at him wide-eyed, horrified he could read her so easily. ‘I don’t feel threatened—’

‘Yes, you do.’ He eyed her impassively and she was conscious of his great height again as he gestured towards the bed. ‘Get in. The nurse will be bringing your breakfast in a moment.’

‘I don’t feel threatened.’ She ignored his instructions with obstinate determination. ‘This has all just been unsettling, surely you can understand that?’

‘I told you that the doctor confirmed concussion?’ His voice was low and moderate but with an underlying thread of steel. ‘And undoubtedly you have a secondary complication resulting in amnesia. However...’ He paused and gestured towards the bed again, his mouth thinning as she still refused to acknowledge the command. ‘However, the blow to your head was not severe enough for this continued loss of memory.’

‘Are you saying I’m making it up?’ she asked hotly as her skin burnt with anger. ‘I can assure you—’

‘Of course I am not saying that,’ he interrupted sharply, ‘and for my sake if not yours please get yourself into this damn bed. I do not relish the prospect of picking you up off the floor again and you look distinctly feeble.’

‘Thank you very much,’ she intoned furiously, as sheer temper enabled her to march across the room and climb into the bed more quickly than she would have thought possible in view of her trembling legs and throbbing head.

‘What I am saying, or rather what the doctor is saying, is that there is something that is causing you to block out your past,’ Gerard said slowly. ‘Something that you do not wish to remember, something that would cause you great pain—’

‘Now it’s you who’s being ridiculous,’ she said quickly as a spark of something blindingly menacing flashed across her mind before sinking back into her subconscious. ‘You are,’ she continued faintly as the dark shadow crept back into that inner mind. ‘I had an accident, I was attacked—’

‘Of 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 a king’s ransom?’

‘What?’ She couldn’t believe she’d heard right for a moment.

‘Make no mistake about it.’ His mouth was harsh now as his gaze wandered over the red-brown hair and pale creamy skin. ‘With your English looks and that air of untouched virginity, you would be snapped up within days.’ He leant back in the seat as her mouth twisted in disbelief. ‘You do not believe me? That alone tells me I was right. A babe among wolves...’

Was he going to sell her to some sheikh or white-slave trader? Was that it? She stared at him dumbly, unaware of the terror in her eyes. She had authorisation from the police to stay with him. They knew where to contact her. Lots of people did. Surely he wouldn’t have organised all that if he intended—

‘Colette exists.’ His voice was very dry now as he read her thoughts. ‘My home exists. I am a perfectly normal man who would not have slept particularly well at night if I had let you be cast adrift into an uncertain world. The telephone conversation with Colette was satisfactory?’

‘Colette?’ She pulled her thoughts together and moistened paper-dry lips carefully. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘You can spend some time talking with a female companion of your own age and perhaps something will be remembered, a spark that will unlock the door, yes?’ He put a very large hand over hers resting on her knees, and she forced herself not to jerk away although his touch fired the alarm button. ‘Now we have to drive to the small airfield where my plane is waiting. It will not take long.’

‘Your plane?’ She began to feel slightly hysterical. This wasn’t happening to her, it couldn’t be. She still wasn’t quite sure how she came to be sitting in this prowling beast of a car with its master, anyway. As his hands moved to the leather-clad steering-wheel and he manoeuvred the powerful car out of the tiny hospital car park, she forced herself to think rationally, to get her emotions under control. She had made enquiries, independent enquiries, that morning with the police and the surprisingly sympathetic doctor, who had spent some considerable time with her trying to probe for something, anything, from her past, all to no avail.

She had discovered Gerard Dumont was an eminently respected businessman in Morocco, owning several businesses in Casablanca, Essaouira and Marrakesh involving the processing of fish and fruit, as well as his own fleet of freighters for goods to be sent overseas, and homes in each of the towns. He was enormously wealthy, a dignified and decorous citizen of the land his parents had moved to before he was born and altogether, according to her reports, a paragon of virtue. Except... Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the doctor’s hesitation when she had asked if Gerard was married or involved with a particular woman.

‘Not a particular woman, no...’ The doctor had smiled carefully after a long moment of silence. ‘But he is a young man in the prime of life; obviously there are stories...’