Shores Of Love

‘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.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_645ab434-a06e-5674-a435-894951962655)

AS THE Land Rover bounced and rattled its way back along the track Avalon sat tight-lipped, grim-faced and thinking furiously. He was as mad as a hatter, of course. It was the only explanation. And so was Kirsty—which was a shame because she seemed to be such a cheery, harmless old dear. In a way it was also a pity about him because if she’d met him in any other circumstances…Well, who could tell? You couldn’t deny that there was something about him that appealed to the baser instincts, and let’s face it, her instincts were just as basic as any other red-blooded woman’s. There had been a moment back there when she’d felt light-headed and he’d put his arm around her—

That train of thought came to an abrupt end as he brought the Land Rover to a stop. They’d just passed Kirsty’s cottage and were halfway down the hill leading into the village. He pulled on the handbrake then contemplated her with a critical frown. ‘Relax,’ he growled. ‘You look as if you’re about to be burnt at the stake.’

She narrowed her green eyes at him. ‘You say a thing like that and expect me to relax?’

With a glint of cold humour in the depths of his eyes he began lecturing her. ‘News travels fast in a small place like this and everyone will have heard about you by now. They’ll be eager to see what kind of woman has been sent to marry their Chief.’

Oh, no! she thought with despair. It couldn’t be! Not the whole population? There had to be someone around here whose head was on straight.

‘So I’d be obliged if you would at least try to look a little happy at the prospect,’ he went on grimly. ‘Otherwise they’ll feel let down.’

She looked at him rebelliously. ‘This is crazy. Surely some of them are bound to wonder how I came to be in the water in the first place?’

‘They won’t be interested in that,’ he declared firmly. ‘However, for the benefit of any strangers who turn up, the story will be that you were on holiday, sailing single-handed up the west coast, when you were suddenly caught in a squall and your yacht capsized.’ He flashed his teeth at her again in a humourless smile. ‘So far I’m the only one who knows about your involvement with the drug smugglers. For your own safety we’ll leave it that way.’ He paused then added pointedly, ‘For the time being at least.’

There was no mistake about that threat—and wasn’t that just typical of the kind of man he was? Smile and look happy, or else!

With a final look of warning he released the handbrake and they drove down the hill into the village. The main street ran past the harbour and halfway along it he pulled up outside a shop which, by means of a weatherbeaten, faded sign above the door, proclaimed itself to be the Suilvach Fashion Emporium. Barely glancing at her, he said brusquely, ‘Get out. We’ve some shopping to do.’

She was quickly learning that when he spoke in that kind of voice it was better just to do as he said. Reluctantly she got out and followed him into the shop.

In spite of its outward appearance the interior of the place came as a surprise. As modem as any large city store, it was well-lit and laid out with racks of skirts, tops, dresses, sweaters.

A bright-eyed little brunette welcomed them with a smile. ‘Good morning, Fraser.’ She turned to Avalon and said a little breathlessly, ‘And you will be the girl from the sea everyone is talking about. You gave old Gavin a terrible fright last night, I can tell you.’ At Avalon’s look of incomprehension she explained, ‘He was the one who found you on the rocks. After he took you to Kirsty’s he came straight down to the pub. The poor old soul needed four big drams before he could stop shaking long enough to tell us the story. An hour and six drams later he had to be carried home and put to bed.’

Fraser smiled tolerantly. ‘All right, Aileen. Never mind the gossiping. You’ve got work to do. This young lady’s name is Avalon and she has nothing in the world but the clothes she’s wearing. I’ve got business to attend to at the harbour. You’ve got half an hour to see that she gets everything she needs. If there’s anything you haven’t got in stock, telephone Oban and have them send it up on the first boat.’