say!’
‘But it’s true. She married again three years ago and went to live in New Zealand. I only hear from her at Christmas.’ She extricated her hands and turned away so that he couldn’t witness the misery she felt at telling him. ‘She’ll be heartbroken about Greg, though. He was the one she cared about.’ She paused again, then faced him anxiously. ‘Please, have they ... have they found him yet? Shall I have to go and identify him? Oh, I don’t think I could bear it!’
‘Only two bodies have been washed up so far,’ he told her, his tone deliberately impersonal. ‘Both have been identified and have no connection with you. The strange thing is the authorities can’t even find your name among any of the crew lists.’
‘I don’t suppose they can,’ she said. ‘I replaced someone who dropped out at the last minute. But let me assure you I’m not a spy.’
Now why on earth had she said that? Those silly suspicions she’d had down by the hut were surely just a product of the delirium she’d been suffering from, and he’d only laugh again if he knew. She was tired and unhappy, and she wished he would go away.
‘Why do you hate me, Sparrow?’ he asked. ‘What have I done to deserve it?’
The question was unexpected and she was caught off guard. ‘Did I say that?’
‘You did.’
He looked quite upset about it, though she knew it was only play-acting and it brought a smile. But he had a right to ask, because he’d given her food and shelter yet she’d shown no gratitude. Greg would have been ashamed of her. It was midday and very hot, and she felt a desperate need for air. She reached up to release the catch on the window and pushed it open, but Sam leaned over her and closed it again before the slightest breeze could stir the curtains.
‘You’ll let the heat in if you do that. Better to close the shutters if you want it cool.’
She hadn’t noticed the slatted shutters behind the curtains until he folded them slowly into place and the room was dimmed. He had slipped an arm casually round her shoulder and waves of heat which had nothing to do with the temperature outside radiated through her. In the half-light his profile was silhouetted, emphasising the aristocratic set of his head, and a choking feeling caught at her throat. It was bad enough being near him in daylight, but the intimacy evoked by the closed shutters was too much for her and she gave a startled cry. Sam looked at her, smiling at her timidity, and before she could avoid it his mouth came down gently on hers. The kiss was feather-soft on her lips and set them quivering, and it awakened sensations of such extraordinary sweetness she closed her eyes and was tempted to press herself against him for the comfort she needed. But his grip on her tightened as he became aware of her response, and she took fright. With a gasp, she twisted her head away.
‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ she cried. ‘I don’t know who or what you are, and I don’t want to find out. You’ve been alone too long, but you won’t take advantage of me. Your friends weren’t doing you a service when they dropped me in your bed, because I’ll never give in to you. You’re a lecherous devil, that’s why I hate you. Oh, how I wish my brother was here instead of you!’
She pounded his chest with her fists so hard his shoulders rounded to ward off the attack, but he kept hold of her and a look of disbelief changed rapidly to anger. Powerful arms crushed her against him until there was no room left to fight, and then he kissed her again, brutally. He forced open her lips and bruised them, and this time she felt nothing but revulsion, her body becoming rigid with fear. There was no escape from the cruel, damaging pressure of that kiss until her fingers came in contact with his beard, and she pulled it with all the strength she had left. He let her go so abruptly she fell sideways on the bed.
‘I’m not your brother, Minella, so don’t expect me to
‘But it’s true. She married again three years ago and went to live in New Zealand. I only hear from her at Christmas.’ She extricated her hands and turned away so that he couldn’t witness the misery she felt at telling him. ‘She’ll be heartbroken about Greg, though. He was the one she cared about.’ She paused again, then faced him anxiously. ‘Please, have they ... have they found him yet? Shall I have to go and identify him? Oh, I don’t think I could bear it!’
‘Only two bodies have been washed up so far,’ he told her, his tone deliberately impersonal. ‘Both have been identified and have no connection with you. The strange thing is the authorities can’t even find your name among any of the crew lists.’
‘I don’t suppose they can,’ she said. ‘I replaced someone who dropped out at the last minute. But let me assure you I’m not a spy.’
Now why on earth had she said that? Those silly suspicions she’d had down by the hut were surely just a product of the delirium she’d been suffering from, and he’d only laugh again if he knew. She was tired and unhappy, and she wished he would go away.
‘Why do you hate me, Sparrow?’ he asked. ‘What have I done to deserve it?’
The question was unexpected and she was caught off guard. ‘Did I say that?’
‘You did.’
He looked quite upset about it, though she knew it was only play-acting and it brought a smile. But he had a right to ask, because he’d given her food and shelter yet she’d shown no gratitude. Greg would have been ashamed of her. It was midday and very hot, and she felt a desperate need for air. She reached up to release the catch on the window and pushed it open, but Sam leaned over her and closed it again before the slightest breeze could stir the curtains.
‘You’ll let the heat in if you do that. Better to close the shutters if you want it cool.’
She hadn’t noticed the slatted shutters behind the curtains until he folded them slowly into place and the room was dimmed. He had slipped an arm casually round her shoulder and waves of heat which had nothing to do with the temperature outside radiated through her. In the half-light his profile was silhouetted, emphasising the aristocratic set of his head, and a choking feeling caught at her throat. It was bad enough being near him in daylight, but the intimacy evoked by the closed shutters was too much for her and she gave a startled cry. Sam looked at her, smiling at her timidity, and before she could avoid it his mouth came down gently on hers. The kiss was feather-soft on her lips and set them quivering, and it awakened sensations of such extraordinary sweetness she closed her eyes and was tempted to press herself against him for the comfort she needed. But his grip on her tightened as he became aware of her response, and she took fright. With a gasp, she twisted her head away.
‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ she cried. ‘I don’t know who or what you are, and I don’t want to find out. You’ve been alone too long, but you won’t take advantage of me. Your friends weren’t doing you a service when they dropped me in your bed, because I’ll never give in to you. You’re a lecherous devil, that’s why I hate you. Oh, how I wish my brother was here instead of you!’
She pounded his chest with her fists so hard his shoulders rounded to ward off the attack, but he kept hold of her and a look of disbelief changed rapidly to anger. Powerful arms crushed her against him until there was no room left to fight, and then he kissed her again, brutally. He forced open her lips and bruised them, and this time she felt nothing but revulsion, her body becoming rigid with fear. There was no escape from the cruel, damaging pressure of that kiss until her fingers came in contact with his beard, and she pulled it with all the strength she had left. He let her go so abruptly she fell sideways on the bed.
‘I’m not your brother, Minella, so don’t expect me to
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