The Fabulous Island

THE FABULOUS ISLAND Katrina Britt

Greer's delightful employer wanted her to marry her nephew, Lloyd Blair -- and it looked as if that odious Mike Fenton did too, as he was always implying that Greer had only come out to this job in the West Indies to find herself a husband. If only they would all leave her alone to choose a husband for herself!

CHAPTER ONE IT was a cold, bleak day in autumn when Greer left her flat to travel to Paddington where she lunched with Mrs Boncelli before they caught the boat train to the docks. There were three compartments reserved for passengers to the West Indies and there was room to spare. From the carriage window, Greer looked out on to the gloomy green water of the river and watched a cloud of small birds flying over en route to a warmer climate. A north-east wind whipped leaves maliciously from trees beneath a sky, as grey as the smoke from autumn bonfires, threatening snow. They arrived on time and passed through Customs with Greer on the receiving end of a wink from a very attractive Customs officer with his uniform hat set rakishly on his dark curly head. The sleek black prow of the Shalotte perked up proudly from the dock and they halted at a gangway whose steepness brought an exclamation of dismay from Mrs Boncelli. 'Good gracious!' she cried. 'Are we expected to walk up that?' A steward streaked down to shoulder their luggage and, before Greer could offer a helping hand, her companion was snatched up into strong arms and carried effortlessly on board. Greer followed and watched a tall, rugged rather than handsome man deposit his burden gently on the deck. He was hatless with black hair and a skin tanned to a magnificent mahogany. His suit was excellently tailored in fine wool mixture tweed and he wore it with the, air of a man who demanded the best of both worlds and got it. Greer had the impression that he strode through life defying the conventions and doing the unpredictable just for the devil of it. Mrs Boncelli, obviously floored by his almost

jesting gallantry and infectious smile, was blushing like a schoolgirl. He was taking his leave courteously when Greer topped the gangway and he paused long enough to take in the smart, slim figure in the superlatively simple belted coat in crisp white gaberdine, fastened with buttons of gleaming copper, and the thick auburn hair combed into a neat fold at the back of her head. Deep grey eyes pinpointed her green ones before he turned on his heel presumably to see about his luggage. 'What a charming man!' Mrs Boncelli trilled. 'I adore tall men, don't you? My husband is tall, but he has sloping shoulders, not the square military ones of our knight errant.' Greer smiled. The man's courteous gesture had made Mrs Boncelli's day. As for the man, she was at a loss to place him. She had never met anyone like him before and, what was more, she had not liked the look he had given her as if he was weighing her up with those steely grey eyes of his. Thank goodness he had not done his knight errant act for her! Their cabin was comfortable and roomy. It was decorated delightfully with bouquets of flowers and telegrams of good wishes from friends of Mrs Boncelli. There were also several for Greer from the office where she worked and from friends. She buried her face in a bouquet of red roses from Alec Grant, the accountant at the office, and breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to keep their friendship platonic. Then Mrs Boncelli was kissing her cheek, saying that she hoped she enjoyed the journey, adding, rather selfconsciously, that she would try not to be more trouble than she could help with her arthritis. Mrs Boncelli was tall, dark-haired, full of character and talkative, with the pale complexion one usually associates with arthritic sufferers. Yet, in spite of the pain in her swollen joints, she was cheerful and bright. Her husband was a doctor on an island in the

West Indies and snared a practice with several others who also ran a clinic there. 'John, that's my husband, hopes that the warmer climate in the West Indies will work wonders for my complaint,' she said brightly when Greer joined her in the lounge after dispatching postcards home. 'He took the job because of me. He's been out there for twelve months. He wanted me to go out with him, but I insisted on him going first to see if he would like it.' 'And does he?' Greer queried. 'He loves it,' was the reply. They drank tea to soft background music and Greer looked around the pastel-shaded panoramic lounge. None of the passengers who were taking tea were spectacular. Most of them seemed to be returning home from leave. There was no sign of Mrs Boncelli's knight errant. They had been told that the ship would sail at six p.m., and after tea Greer went on deck as they moved leisurely down the Bristol Channel. She tried to peer through the mist and fading light for a last look at the Devon coastline, but there were only tantalizing glimpses of ghostly shapes where the mist lifted in places before closing in altogether. The wail of foghorns sounded eerie in the depressing light as it punctuated the excited chatter of other passengers who, like herself, had come on deck for a last look at the old country. Greer stared unseeingly into the mist, her thoughts isolating her from her companions. Six months ago she had answered Mrs Boncelli's advertisement in The Times for a companion to accompany her to the West Indies, all expenses paid including a month's holiday before returning home. Greer had been in the typing

pool of a large firm of exporters in London. Intrigued by the exciting places from which they did business, the urge to see them for herself had become too strong to resist. Mrs Boncelli's advertisement had been a challenge to her restlessness and she had accepted it joyously. She had finished work on the previous Thursday in order to have sufficient time to shop, press and pack her clothes, and she had been gloriously excited about it. Eve, the girl with whom she shared a flat, had sighed enviously when they said goodbye. 'Have a good time, but I do think you're silly to leave without coming to some arrangement with Alec Grant. Don't expect to find him free when you return. I know several who've had their eye on him since that aunt of his left him that legacy. You could have married him and gone to the West Indies on your honeymoon instead of going as a companion to a semi-invalid.' But Greer had only smiled. She knew that Eve, who was engaged to be married at the end of the year, had the idea that every single girl's favourite record was the Wedding March. Greer was fond of Alec Grant. He had dated her regularly during the past twelve months, but although he had always been generous taking her to the best places to dine or booking the best seats for shows, she had seen a meanness over little things that had irritated her. Perhaps the fact that she had lived for the past three years with Eve, who possessed the same failing, had made her more aware of it in Alec. While Eve had been fun to live with, her mean ways had cast a blight over their friendship. She had borrowed repeatedly from Greer before she would buy things for herself out of her excellent salary as a private secretary. She was engaged to a baronet's son and her own family weren't short of money. 'Don't you think it's wise to go below? The sea mist can be very penetrating 'and it's a pity to start off what can be a very enjoyable journey with a bad chill.'

The deep voice brought her back to the present with a start. She turned to see that most of the passengers had gone below and that the man who was addressing her was Mrs Boncelli's knight errant. 'Thank you,' she said politely. 'I was just going.' She slipped past him, her cheeks glowing from the sting of the mist, and hurried below. The mist had not improved Mrs Boncelli's arthritis and that evening she struggled painfully into an evening dress, aided sympathetically by Greer. In the dining room, they were given a table for two attended by a smart young steward. Greer found herself smiling up at a slim, slightly built young man in his early twenties. He had black hair and the olive-skinned good looks of a Latin. He told them that his name was Antonio and that he came from Sardinia. Mrs Boncelli was amused when she saw him gaze admiringly at Greer's auburn hair and green eyes. 'Antonio appears to have taken a fancy to you, Greer,' she remarked, attacking her hors d'oeuvres with zest when the steward had gone. The voyage promises to be interesting. He isn't a patch on my knight errant, though. I wonder who he is.' Suddenly she paused with her fork poised comically in mid-air. 'Why, there he is at the Captain's table!' Greer, who had marvelled at her companion's obvious enjoyment of her food and everything else in general despite her pain, turned to look to where the Captain sat at a somewhat larger table with several officers and the man who had carried Mrs Boncelli on board the Shalotte. He was looking very distinguished and attractive in evening dress and she was conscious of black hair and white teeth as he threw back his head to roar with laughter at something that the Captain was relating with obvious relish. When he unexpectedly

caught her gaze, she flushed and looked hastily away and wondered at the quickened beating of her heart. Antonio was serving them with roast duckling when Mrs Boncelli said, 'Perhaps you can tell us, Antonio, the name of the attractive man in evening dress sitting at the Captain's table?' 'Certainly, madame. Mr Mike Fenton. He is returning home to the West Indies where his family have large estates.' 'I wonder if he's married,' Mrs Boncelli murmured to Greer, and Antonio, who was turning away, paused. 'Mr Fenton is a bachelor, madame,' he said suavely, his eyes twinkling before he left them with a polite bow. . 'This duckling's nice,' Mrs Boncelli observed, sampling it with approval 'Single, eh? I'm surprised. He's so charming it's a wonder he's not been snatched up years ago. He must be getting on for thirty.' She munched thoughtfully for a few moments, then, 'You know, Greer, he's just right for you. Those extra years he has mean that he would look after you. Men come in two groups, the ones who look after you and the ones you have to -look after. Now miy husband belongs to the second group. I have to look after him. It's not that he's helpless, he's so absent-minded. Before we had the car it was nothing unusual for him to alight from a bus and walk away forgetting that I was with him.' She chuckled. eSense of humour is a wonderful thing, my dear. Use it often and you'll find ecstasy in every day of your marriage.' Greer laughed. 'You're very sweet, Mrs Boncelli, and I feel so happy that I'm able to make this trip with you,' she said sincerely. 'I know I'm going to love it.' 'Don't be too sure,' Mrs Boncelli twinkled at her. 'Before the voyage is over you'll probably be wishing you'd never heard of me!'

They were leaving the dining room when Mike Fenton drew level with them. He was the first to speak. 'Mrs Boncelli,' he smiled charmingly. 'I've just learned that you are to be a neighbour of mine and that I know your husband John quite well.' Mrs Boncelli positively beamed. 'That's wonderful! So you're coming all the way with us to Manna Island,' adding, as he cast a brief glance in Greer's direction, don't think you've met my charming companion, Miss Greer Smith.' His second glance at Greer lingered long enough for him to greet her courteously before turning again to her companion. If you would dine with me tomorrow evening I could put you wise to a few things about the island, then you won't feel a stranger when you arrive.' 'We'll be delighted,' Mrs Boncelli answered. In their cabin Mrs Boncelli insisted on doing most of her own unpacking in spite of the fact that some movements must have given her intense pain. Watching her, Greer hoped that the warmer climate they were bound for would help her arthritis, for she was so courageous m facing up to her affliction. Their first night at sea was without incident. Mrs Boncelli admitted to having a fairly good night, but Greer had heard her moving from time to time in an effort to ease her pain-ridden joints. At eight Antonio appeared with breakfast, orange juice, porridge, ham and eggs and toast and marmalade. They had put their watches back an hour the previous night to make them behind English time. When Antonio had cleared the breakfast dishes away, Greer helped Mrs Boncelli into warm slacks and a lambswool sweater for a stroll on deck which she insisted on taking. 'After all,' she said, admiring Greer's smart nautical outfit 'in navy and white jersey wool with a striped, double-breasted reefer jacket

over a white polo-necked sweater and straight navy trousers, 'we are both dressed to brave the elements, so we might as well make the most of the sea air.' On deck they found the Shalotte ploughing her way stolidly through aggressive Atlantic rollers beneath a cloudy sky. There was no sign of anything but grey stretches of sea for miles. They walked around the decks before taking chairs on the sheltered side of the ship, and Greer, rushing down for warm rugs to the cabin, was thankful for Mrs Boncelli's sake that they would soon be sailing into warmer waters. She was leaving the cabin with the rugs when she collided with someone passing. Long arms shot out to steady her and she looked up into the tanned face and grey eyes of Mike Fenton. The laughter in her sparkling green ones became set. For some reason the man antagonized her. It could be the experience glittering in his eyes or the kind of hallmarked quality about him that arrogantly roused the militant side of her'Where's the fire?' he asked teasingly before releasing her. Instantly she drew back and apologized in a cool little voice. I'm sorry. I was hurrying t& take a rug to Mrs Boncelli.' She knew he had sensed her withdrawal and added stiffly, 'It's so important for her to keep warm, with her complaint.' 'I agree,' he said with swift appraisal of her smart outfit. 'It's nice of you to be so considerate for her welfare.' They moved along the corridor. 'One can't help being kind to Mrs Boncelli, she's so sweet and uncomplaining. I only hope that the warm climate she is going to is all she expects it to be.'

'It will certainly make her life more pleasant.' He had pushed his hands into his pockets and she felt his silent regard. 'Been to the West Indies before?' 'No. I've been abroad for holidays but not so far away.' 'Looking forward to it?' 'Who wouldn't be?' 'I just wondered. Is it me you don't like or men in general?' he asked, tongue in cheek. She flushed guiltily. The unexpected question had taken her unawares. She looked ahead wishing desperately that there was a clear path along which she could run and when the gangway leading to the deck loomed in front of her she sprang up it, catching at the rail eagerly. The ship listed slightly and she felt his hard shoulder behind her own. 'You haven't answered my question,' he said softly above her ear. Her heartbeat was deafening and a feeling almost of shock ran like quicksilver through her veins at his nearness. She had received kisses at parties, had been held close for a good-night kiss from men who had escorted her home, but none of them had affected her as this man did. She wasn't sure that there was just an element of fright about it. They had reached the deck when she said in a steadier voice than she had thought possible, 'I don't need to. You've already convinced yourself that the dislike exists.' When she reached Mrs Boncelli her heart was still out of control and she sat down in her deck chair for several minutes before it quietened down to normal. During her absence Mrs Boncelli had been joined by a jolly couple named Ford who were returning to

Manna Island after taking their three young sons to school in England. Janet Ford, in her thirties, was slightly taller than her husband. She had light brown hair and the palest grey eyes that Greer had ever seen. Her husband, George, was thick-set and jolly. They chatted together and Greer learned from the Fords that it was the time of the year when hurricanes were prevalent in the West Indies. But Greer was not alarmed. She was determined to enjoy every moment of her trip. It was cold in spite of the truant sun and when the Fords made a move to have a drink in the bar before lunch, Mrs Boncelli was content to sit wrapped warmly in her rug with a hot drink until lunch time. Greer was perfectly content to stay with her, for she had no wish to go to the bar where she could meet Mike Fenton. It was decidedly warmer in the afternoon and they found it pleasant to relax on deck until boat drill at four o'clock. Greer swiftly slipped into the drill routine and was soon giving a hand to Mrs Boncelli, who was hampered in her movements by her arthritis. Greer was finding life aboard ship very relaxing until she thought of Mike Fenton and she was not looking forward to dining with him that evening. He met them at; the door of the dining room, easily the most striking man in the room, his square shoulders giving him an air of military smartness in the tuxedo that was startlingly white against the mahogany of his skin. To their surprise he escorted them to the Captain's table where Captain Lawton, the ship's doctor and several officers were already seated. Greer found herself accepting a chair next to a young chief officer with three stripes of gold braid on his sleeve. Bill Rutherford's uniform accentuated his charm find personality and Greer, returning his smile, pitied the many women who must

have lost their heart to his bright blue eyes and blond hair which, she could imagine, were much more devastating beneath his uniform hat. Yet, although she knew he was only regarding her as he must have regarded dozens of other women, his undisguised admiration lifted her on to a cloud and she was gripped by a magic in the air. Lighthearted chatter and subdued laughter mingled with the background music coming softly across the room from the palmscreened orchestra. Smart stewards moved about efficiently between immaculate tables amid the clinking of glass and cutlery and the delicious aroma of appetizing dishes. Greer's eyes mirrored the twinkle in Bill's and she picked up her glass, unaware of her own charms. She was wearing an enchanting evening dress of silky lime green jersey with a softly gathered shirt. The high cowl neckline and long sleeves were delicately trimmed with matching silk braid. Her hair was a loose cloudy mane of auburn silk and her green eyes sparkled. Lifting a face as expressive and luminous as a child's, she whispered, 'Isn't it fun?' and joined in her companion's chuckle before setting pink lips to the golden liquid in her glass. The four-course dinner was delicious in the special atmosphere one experiences only aboard ship. Bill Rutherford proved an entertaining companion with Greer carefully keeping her gaze away from where Mike Fenton sat with Mrs Boncelli. Captain Lawton complimented her on her dress and told her jokingly that he had a weakness for green eyes, and the meal passed all too quickly. There was dancing later and Bill asked Greer to dance with him. He was an experienced dancer and she thoroughly enjoyed the next two hours until Bill had to leave to go on duty. She walked with him to the deck and when he strode reluctantly away she leaned against the ship's rail and gazed out over the mysterious dark water. The sea was calmer than it had been of late and it washed softly against the ship as she cleaved through its surface.

Greer meant to enjoy the trip and was determined that it should be the forerunner of many more. She was young, just on twenty-one, and although she wanted to marry some day she wanted to see the exciting world before she settled down. So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she had not noticed the mist rising from the sea and when the wrap was dropped across her shoulders she looked up startled into the dark, disapproving face of Mike Fenton. 'Don't you know better than to come out on a cold deck without a wrap when you've been dancing in a warm room?' he said roughly. Greer stiffened automatically. She did not care for his tone and he was gripping her arm deliberately to hurt. That's my business and nothing to do with you,' she answered a trifle unsteadily. 'You're younger than I thought,' he drawled with irony. 'I don't care what you think,' she flared. 'I'm well able to take care of myself.' 'Then why don't you?' was the cool reply. She made no reply. The wretched man had taken her unawares and to add to her discomfiture she had shivered when the wrap had come into contact with the cold air on her shoulders. His grip tightened on her arm. 'Come on,' he commanded before she could gather her scattered wits, and marched her to the bar where he ordered a double whisky. Greer was fuming when he handed it to her. 'I don't want it,' she said flatly. 'Nevertheless you'll drink it,' he said calmly. 'I believe that you're on this trip for the sole purpose of looking after Mrs Boncelli. You can't very well do that if you're laid low with a chill.'

She had the feeling of being slapped. He wasn't concerned with her own welfare in the least. He had been thinking only of Mrs Boncelli. The odious man! She looked up at him through her lashes, saw that he was quite capable of sitting there all night if need be and, suppressing a shudder, she sipped it, willing it to go down. 'Thanks,' she said sarcastically when he took the empty glass. 'I can find my own way to the cabin.' She walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, to find that he was accompanying her with long easy strides. She could do nothing short of running to be rid of him and she did not intend to do anything so undignified. The whisky had sent a glow right through her and the fact that she had drunk the last part of it much too quickly could account for the light-headed feeling she had of walking on a cloud. Then to her own surprise she hiccupped and stifled a desire to giggle. When a small one frolicked in her throat she looked up to meet his cool quizzical gaze with shining eyes and carmine cheeks and lips. But he did not share her amusement. 'Don't go around handing looks like that to the male passengers and crew, will you? If you do you might find yourself with more than you can handle.' 'Really?' she replied archly. She had not forgotten that he had literally poured the whisky down her throat for the sake of Mrs Boncelli, and the knowledge filled her with reckless abandon. 'I could surprise even you, Mr Fenton.' They had reached her cabin door and he seized her other arm roughly turning her round to face him. 'So you can, take it, eh?' his face was inches from her own and She quivered at the cruel glint in his eyes. 'You're trembling like a leaf, and I haven't even kissed you.' He let her go. 'Take my advice. Shipboard romances rarely amount to anything. I doubt if you could survive one in any case.'

Anger made her rigid. Her green eyes blazed. 'Of all the conceited, arrogant males I've ever met, you're the worst!' she gasped. He grinned, in no way perturbed. They're probably in the minority where you're concerned, so I'm not worried.' He flicked her wrap with careless fingers. 'Give this to your steward tomorrow. I picked it up from a chair in the lounge. Good night.'

A rain-lashed gale blew up suddenly during the night and neither Greer nor Mrs Boncelli slept well. Greer awoke the following morning with a thick head and she helped Mrs Boncelli to dress, shielding her as much as possible from the movements of the ship. The storm had lost its violence, but it was still rough when she decided to go for a turn on the deck, leaving Mrs Boncelli writing letters in the library. There were only a handful of hardy passengers walking around when she stepped bravely on to the deck, hoping that the cold penetrating air would clear her head. On her second time around the deck, she had paused to watch a porpoise having fun in the Atlantic swell, when she sneezed violently. Oh, heavens! she thought, not a cold after all. But it was, and for two days she was too miserable to care what was going on around her. On the third day she was feeling more like herself when the ship's doctor, a tough-looking ginger-haired Irishman named Craig, entered the cabin on his daily visit. He told her that she could get up but not to leave the cabin. Mrs Boncelli wanted to stay with her, but Greer had insisted that she would be all right on her own. Since her illness, Mike Fenton had taken Mrs Boncelli out and escorted her to dinner in the evenings. He had been very attentive to Greer too, bringing her fruit, flowers, magazines and chocolates, and there had been flowers from Bill Rutherford.

Greer stayed up most of the day reading, writing letters home and helping Mrs Boncelli to dress for dinner in the evening. She knew .that the older woman had enjoyed being escorted by one of the most eligible bachelors on board, but there was a limit to what he could do for her. So thought Greer that evening when she sank, weak and spent, into her chair after helping Mrs Boncelli to dress for dinner. Not for worlds would she have told her the effort it had cost her to do so, and the other woman was too busy applying the finishing touches to her make-up to notice anything amiss. Mike happened to be more discerning. He noticed her at once when he entered the cabin immaculately groomed in evening dress. 'Are you all right?' he asked, his keen eyes raking her pale face. 'You look washed out and in need of fresh air.' Mrs Boncelli answered for her. 'Doctor Craig said she had to stay in the cabin today. She's been very sick, poor dear.' 'She still looks it,' he said laconically, placing Mrs Boncelli's wrap around her shoulders. Greer kept silent, wishing that he would go away quickly and leave her alone. She was heartily sick of four walls, but she preferred them to his vibrant presence. When they had gone she closed her eyes trying to decide whether the throbbing in her temples was an echo of the ship's engines or an actual pain in her head. Her thoughts were still rather confused when a sharp rap on the door admitted the doctor in full evening dress. 'Well,' he asked, taking her slender wrist professionally between his thumb and finger, 'how are you feeling?' 'Not too bright,' she answered wanly.

He nodded understandingly. 'A bad attack of flu can leave you feeling very slack. You'll soon pick up, though, after a few days in the sun. I'll mix you a tonic that should do the trick.' He straightened, eyeing her keenly. 'Want something to make you sleep tonight?' She shook her head. 'No, thanks. Sleeping pills give me a hangover.' All the same she wished she had accepted one when later she crawled into bed hoping that she would feel more in tune with life the following morning. She never heard Mrs Boncelli come in and she must have slept through the night, for it was daylight when she awoke and the cabin was filled with dancing waves of sunlight. Her headache had gone and she felt decidedly better. She even managed to eat most of her breakfast. As he served them, Antonio remarked that they would find the weather much warmer from now on, a fact for which they were both extremely thankful. They were ready to go on deck when Mike Fenton arrived in cream slacks and white, open-necked shirt showing a smooth tanned throat. 'Good morning,' Mrs Boncelli cooed happily. 'I want to write to John this morning, so I'm going to the library. Suppose you take Greer on deck. She's sure to be a little shaky on her first time out.' Had Greer been nearer to Mrs Boncelli she would have given her a dig in the ribs to warn her. Now all she could do was insist that she was well enough to go out on her own. Mike heard her declaration in silence, ignored it and took her arm. 'It will be a pleasure. I'll take good care of her.' He paused as a thought struck him. 'The Captain is giving a cocktail party in the lounge this evening at seven and you're both invited.'

'Lovely,' said Mrs Boncelli, and made her way to the library with her writing materials under her arm. Much to her surprise Greer did feel weak when they left the cabin, but she refused to allow Mike to support her as she walked beside him. On deck he led her to the rail and they looked down at the pure white backwash from the ship as she ploughed her way through the water with Greer clinging to the rail for several moments to. regain her sea legs. The few days in bed had robbed her of the knack of walking with the roll of the .ship and the swell this morning was considerable. 'Come on, we'll take a turn around the deck,' Mike said as though he sensed her reluctance to leave the rail. So, with his fingers curled around her elbow, they walked along the deck, stopping at the little shop that sold everything from duty-free cigarettes to cameras and films. Mike bought her a pair of sunglasses which, he said, she would soon need for comfort, then led her to a sheltered part of the deck to sink into deck chairs while he told her about Manna Island. The most important thing you must learn is how to relax, because you'll find the first week will make you positive that you'll never be able to do anything that calls for the least exertion. It's the kind of lethargy that soon passes and you certainly won't be bored, for there's plenty to do. The warm waters of the Caribbean make it possible for you to enjoy all kinds of sport including skin- , diving, swimming, tennis, golf and riding.' He favoured her with a mocking glance. There's polo, too. You'll certainly never find anywhere else more beautiful or know a more lasting or deeper content than you'll find there. Want to hear more, or do you like to find things out for yourself?' Greer watched him select a cigarette from the case in his pocket after taking one herself. She was not much of a smoker, but right

now one might help to calm her nerves, she thought, appalled at her inertia. 'Why does Mrs Boncelli's husband think that she'll be better there?' she asked curiously. Casually he lit her cigarette and then his own before leaning back to cross long legs. 'For one thing there are mineral springs on the island and some of them are reputed to have a high radio-activity equal to any in the world. For another she can spend hours bathing in the warm sea and have the benefit of the sun's rays. I hope she likes it on the island, because her husband is a fine man and is doing valuable work.' 'Has he a private practice?' 'Yes, but it isn't a heavy one because we're well endowed with doctors, so he also lectures at the hospital. We have a fine modern one and a first-rate clinic.' He went on to tell her about the mountain range forming the backbone of the island, giving it a climate both stimulating and healthy. It was easy to see that he loved it and was proud of the way that his family had tamed thousands of acres of land to accommodate many thousand head of pedigree cattle. Greer grew interested and curious as she listened. She wanted to ask him about his family, but she had the feeling that he would only divulge what he wanted her to know. The sun was warm through her sandals and caressed her whole body. She thought of London in the grip of winter and snuggled into her chair deliciously, aware that her companion's deep musical voice plus his masculine charm was insidious. Her illness must have made her weak in the head to allow herself to be in his company at all. It was bad enough to have Mrs Boncelli swooning over him. 'You're not listening.'

His voice scattered her thoughts and she flung him a wide green look, to see him studying her intently. Reaching for the cigarette half-smoked in her hand, he flung it over the rail of the ship with his own. 'Come on. We'll go to the bar for an aperitif before lunch and collect Mrs Boncelli on the way. What you really need is a fullbodied wine to put colour into those pale cheeks.' After lunch, Greer accompanied Mrs Boncelli on deck where they relaxed on loungers and enjoyed the sun. It was around four o'clock when Mrs Boncelli suggested they go aft to watch the cricket match between the passengers and the ship's company. It proved to be quite exciting. Mike Fenton captained the passengers and was easily one of the most outstanding players. Bill Rutherford and Doctor Craig put in some good batting, but they were no match for Mike and a young lithe Jamaican who was like someone jet-propelled as they took wicket after wicket. Bill Rutherford came to join them when the game ended and the passengers had been declared the winners by an extra score of ten. 'Nice to see you in circulation again,' he said, folding himself into the seat beside her. 'Rotten, isn't it, to be ill on board ship,' he sympathized. 'But at least you weren't sea-sick. Half the passengers have been these last two days, and I didn't feel so good myself yesterday.' Mrs Boncelli looked up from her book. 'Are you better now?' she asked kindly. Bill nodded and grinned. 'I was in the dining room last evening and I envied the ease with which you tucked away course after course without turning a hair. Ever been sea-sick, Mrs Boncelli?' The older woman shook her head. 'No. Once when I was in my teens I crossed to Dublin from Holyhead in very rough seas. My friend was one of the casualties and I took her down below to see the poor

stewardess practically run off her feet with everyone prostrate around her. When I asked her how she managed to remain immune among so much sickness she said it was simply a triumph of mind over matter. "Make up your mind that you won't be sick and you won't," she said. So I did, and it works.' 'But you weren't immune to the love bug, were you, Mrs Boncelli?' Mike Fenton had strolled along to join them unobserved and was now looking down mockingly on Mrs Boncelli. He was rewarded with a warm smile. 'No, I wasn't. I wouldn't be without my John for anything.' 'Pleased to hear it,' he said, offering her a cigarette. She accepted one and when Greer refused he passed over her with lifted brows to Bill. Mrs Boncelli watched him flick his lighter. 'You sound as though you don't believe in marriage, Mr Fenton,' she said, leaning forward to place the tip of her cigarette against the flame. Mike lit Bill's cigarette and his own. Cynically, he watched a line of smoke disintegrate. 'I'm a man of the world. I gave up wearing rosecoloured spectacles years ago.' 'And what does that mean exactly?' Mrs Boncelli teased. 'That you don't believe in love?' He smiled down on her tolerantly and to Greer, far below him in her deck chair. He looked big and uncaring in his white drill. 'Let's say that I have no illusions about it. Genuine love matches are few and far between. Nowadays most women measure their feelings by the size of a man's bank balance,' he said jeeringly.

Greer found herself bristling indignantly in defence of her own sex. 'I don't agree,' she cut in. 'There are-still women in circulation who would count the world well lost for love.' He gave her the benefit of his grey gaze. 'But you, my child, haven't been in circulation long enough to pass a concrete opinion. Wait until that untried heart of yours has passed through a few careless hands.' 'I suppose yours has and that's why you're so cynical,' she bit out. She heard Bill's chuckle beside her and called herself an idiot for allowing Mike Fenton to upset her. He was now regarding her with a mocking intensity that made her feel like a raw teenager. She looked at his slightly humorous mouth and narrowed gaze as he drew on his cigarette and disliked him intensely. He was conscious of her resentment, she was well aware, but it did not penetrate his thick hide. 'You're too tense, like all young things,' he drawled. 'Manna Island will teach you how to relax.' He turned his attention to Mrs Boncelli. 'Don't forget the Captain's cocktail party this evening. Be seeing you.' He lifted a hand and strolled away. Greer turned to find Mrs Boncelli regarding her thoughtfully. 'Did I detect a note of dislike for Mike Fenton, or were you doing a Mrs Pankhurst and putting in a good word for women in general?' Greer flushed. 'The man is far too cynical about women. I couldn't let him get away with that. Who does he think he is, anyway?' 'He's party right, you know,' Bill put in from her other side. 'Lots of women marry for security and happy marriages are few and far between.'

'So you're a cynic too,' Greer said lightly. 'I'm not surprised that you don't favour marriage. You're having fun without it.' Bill laughed a trifle sheepishly. 'Oh, come now! I simply help the passengers to have a good time.' 'And yourself too, into the bargain,' Greer added dryly. 'Well, yes. I enjoy it. Who wouldn't with pretty girls like yourself?' Mrs Boncelli laughed outright. 'You missed your vocation, Bill. You would have done well in the Diplomatic Service. You'll have to come and spend a holiday with us on Manna Island. I might change your views on marriage. Marriage is the only answer for a full and satisfying life and those who sneer at it have never experienced connubial bliss. The cynics are as vulnerable as the rest of us, but they never admit it. Mike Fenton is probably wary of being married for his money and position as men of means usually are.' Before anyone could refute this Janet and George Ford appeared, full of praise for the cricket match. The conversation turned to sport and Bill was the first to make a move. 'Sorry I shan't see you at the Captain's cocktail party this evening. I'm on duty, worse luck,' he said in an aside to Greer. 'I'm off tomorrow afternoon, though. Perhaps we can have a game of deck tennis.'

CHAPTER TWO For months after she had known of the impending journey to the West Indies, Greer had shopped with it in mind and had managed to collect an attractive range of clothes to suit every occasion. For the cocktail party that evening she chose a sleeveless dress in white crepe with a high cowl neckline. With it she wore an iridescent sequinned jacket in silk and cotton multi-coloured print in turquoise, adding a matching band of turquoise around her head with the ends hanging becomingly over one slim shoulder. 'You look beautiful, my dear,' Mrs Boncelli exclaimed, watching her add gold slippers to match the gold silk girdle at her waist. 'You have quite a "look at me" impact.' Thanks,' Greer replied. 'You don't look so bad yourself.' She smiled fondly at Mrs Boncelli in her slim-fitting black dress with a high fashion matching scarf in red with a white silk motif in each corner and she went forward to adjust it more becomingly. There was quite a large gathering in the library when they arrived. Mike, suave and distinguished in his white tuxedo, was sharing a drink and talking with teenage twins who were returning home from college in England. They were named Melville and Mary Turner and were alike as two peas in a pod. Both were willowy, dusky-eyed brunettes with tip-tilted noses and wide generous mouths and were dressed alike in orange. Mike's head was inclined their way as he listened to their conversation with an amused grin. They were obviously relating an amusing incident which they ended on a giggle and Mike threw back his head to roar with laughter. For some reason Greer resented his interest and his easy way with them without knowing why. When he looked up suddenly at her across the room his regard

brought flags of colour to her cheeks and she despised herself for it. Later, he came over to them and, with a hint of satire, asked how she was feeling on her first evening out from her cabin after her illness. He looked her over appraisingly. 'To use the words of the Turner girls, you're looking fabulous, and I agree,' he said softly. 'Yes, isn't she?' Mrs Boncelli smiled at Greer's deep flush. Mike gave her a mocking bow. 'And you too, if I may say so,' he added smoothly. 'By the way, the Turner twins would like to be introduced. I don't believe you've actually met them.' He nodded in their direction and Greer smiled at them as they approached. According to Antonio, their parents kept an exclusive hotel on Manna Island. Greer liked their spontaneous gaiety and friendly approach, and when presently they were joined by Captain Lawton and several of the ship's officers, they made a merry group. Mrs Boncelli and Greer dined at their own table that evening, attended by Antonio. At the end of the meal, Mrs Boncelli said, 'I believe there's a good film on tonight. You must go and see it, Greer. They say it's rather a long one, so I don't think I'll go. I don't fancy sitting that long. I shall read in the cabin until bedtime.' Greer wasn't in the mood for it either. She had spent too long indoors and, now that the weather was improving she would have preferred a stroll on deck. But Mrs Boncelli seemed to expect her to go. On her way there she found Mike waiting for her at the end of her corridor. He smiled charmingly as she approached. 'Mrs Boncelli told me you were going to the film show, so I took the liberty of

waiting for you. It's a film of adventure on the high seas. I rather think I shall enjoy it. What about you?' He slanted her a quizzical look as he strolled beside her, and she returned one of impish pleasure. 'Sounds exiting. I shall love it,' she exclaimed, 'I'm all for adventure.' He raised a dark brow in amusement. 'What kind of adventure?' 'Seeing the world for one thing. Fm going to see as much of it as I can.' 'Really? Is this adventure number one?' 'You could say that,' she said enthusiastically. There was a pause while he digested this. 'What about romance and marriage? Are you hoping to end up with a millionaire who will take you the rest of the way round the world?' She stiffened at the cynical inflection in his voice. He would think that, she thought peevishly. To him all women were full of vices. 'No, I'm not,' she replied shortly. 'I'm not contemplating marriage for years.' 'Well, you've plenty of time,' he said equably. The film was excellent and Greer enjoyed it immensely. Later, they strolled around the decks to discuss the merits of it and found that they agreed on each point. Greer had lost herself so completely in the film that she had almost forgotten his presence at her side. Now she was fully aware of him in a disturbing way and she did not care for it. Until now she had been happy and fancy free and she wanted to keep it that way until she had satisfied her craving for

adventure. Not that she thought for a moment that the map had designs on her—far from it. It was the unsettling influence he was having on herself. Long after they had run out of conversation they walked in silence beneath a moon popping out from behind stray wisps of cloud. Neither seemed inclined for conversation and gradually her dislike of him slipped away, but the fear of his masculine attractiveness remained. When he suggested a nightcap in the bar she agreed reluctantly, not wishing to spoil an otherwise perfect night. In a cosily lit corner of the bar he ordered drinks. 'To your green eyes,' he said, touching her glass with his own. 'To grey ones that don't miss a thing,' she answered coolly, determined to keep their friendship on an even plane. He looked rather surprised and murmured with some amusement, 'Like the weather, you appear to be getting warmer—or are you liking me better?' 'Let's say I'm getting to know you,' she answered, adopting his teasing mood, and when he suggested a second drink she agreed with alacrity. So they had another drink and he gave her a searching look that she returned quite steadily as they drank it, but he did not suggest a third. He waited until she had finished her second, then said she had been up long enough for her first day out and steered her determinedly to her cabin. At the door she thanked him for a pleasant evening with the wine she had taken sparkling in her cheeks and eyes, and he narrowed an enigmatic glance down at her. 'To bed with you,' he almost growled, and propelled her gently through the doorway of the cabin.

Lying in bed, she could still see his face as clearly as if he was still there, the grey eyes beneath straight brows that could glitter with anger or soften with amusement, the firm lips that could curl cynically or smile so charmingly, and the strong brown fingers resting with deceptive lightness on her arm. He was- still an eligible bachelor who had proved, through the years, .that a woman's touch was not necessary to his happiness and well-being. Was he so impregnable? What was she bothering about? He was returning to the same island, but their paths were not likely to cross very often. She would have to see to that. He was too disturbing for her peace of mind. It was a long time before she went to sleep. On Sunday morning Greer and Mrs Boncelli attended morning service on deck. They were a little late and had to stand on the fringe of the congregation. Greer gave a giggle when an unexpected movement of the ship sat her down sharply on the floor of the deck at the end of the service. 'Bit too late to sit down now,' Mike said on a chuckle, lifting her to her feet from behind. 'Did someone say sit down?' Mrs Boncelli turned, unaware that Greer had taken an undignified seat on the deck. 'I did,' Mike answered evenly. 'Come and take a deck chair in the sun where you can watch, the bathers and deck games.' He had still retained his hold on Greer who inadvertently found herself leaning back against his broad chest, whether by accident or design she wasn't sure, but the firm way he insisted on holding her was making her heart behave in a most peculiar manner. Mrs Boncelli was surprised and slightly amused. 'A church service is hardly the place to demonstrate one's affections,' she reproved mildly.

Mike chuckled and withdrew his arms from Greer. 'My attentions are strictly honourable,' he drawled. 1 have at this moment picked your companion up from a hard seat on the deck. She doesn't appear to have regained her sea legs yet.' 'Oh dear!' exclaimed Mrs Boncelli, looking concerned. 'Did you hurt yourself, dear?' Greer had to smile: 'Only my dignity,' she answered demurely, relieved that her heartbeat was going back to normal now that Mike had released her. He walked between them along the deck, placing Mrs Boncelli in a deck chair commanding a view of the swimming pool. He looked down on the older woman and smiled whimsically. 'I don't suppose you care to bathe yet?' he asked politely. Mrs Boncelli shook her head. 'I'm afraid I should have difficulty in climbing in and out of the pool. I think I'll wait until I can bathe in the warm sea, thanks. Greer can, though.' 'I'll go and change,' Greer said and was soon on her way from her cabin again in a scarlet and white swim- suit beneath a striped towelling jacket. Mike was waiting for her at the end of her corridor, wide-shouldered, slim- hipped in a wrap over his swimming trunks. She felt his impersonal grip on her elbow and wished she could rid herself of the strange fear that somehow he was irrevocably linked with her future. The brilliant sunshine dazzled them when they came up on deck where the pool shimmered like a huge green emerald invitingly. Greet waved to Mrs Boncelli before shedding her wrap and diving into the water. It was pleasantly warm and rippled over her sunstarved limbs deliciously. Swimming the whole length, she pulled herself up on the edge of the pool and looked around, thankful that Mike was nowhere in sight. She was slightly winded and realized that she was not in her usual form. The pool was dotted with gay

bathing caps and bare heads and the air was filled with laughter. Around the sides, loungers, gay canopied tables and chairs were occupied by colourfully attired passengers all enjoying the sun. 'Tired already?' Greer looked down with a start to see Mike below her in the water. He was pushing back his hair and his teeth gleamed as he grinned at her. For a moment Greer stared back at him. Again she was aware of the riot of emotion his sudden appearance invariably aroused. The sun was burning down on her flesh, yet she did not feel its heat. She could have shivered beneath his mocking gaze. Why on earth did he affect her in this way? To her annoyance a flush stained her cheeks and she pushed a tendril of hair beneath her bathing cap in an effort to appear casual. 'Not really,' she said, as he pulled himself up beside her. 'I'm a bit out of practice.' 'Live near the water?' he queried. 'Near Waggoners Wells,' she answered 'I go swimming every day when I'm home.' She did not tell him that home was with fosterparents who had adopted her from an orphanage at the age of two and that she went there one week of her holidays to show her gratitude to them by helping to cope with a dozen or more orphans in their care. 'You'll enjoy Manna Island. Are you planning to stay for a while or do you go back when you've taken Mrs Boncelli home?' She slid him a swift glance, saw skin like satin mahogany and that he looked very strong and fit. 'I've agreed to stay a month,' she answered unrevealingly.

'And aren't you?' 'I don't know. I shall if Mrs Boncelli wants me to, I guess.' In the short silence that followed she looked up against her will at his clear-cut features, stubborn jaw and piercing grey eyes accentuated by his deeply tanned skin and found it impossible to look away again. 'Your eyes are as green as the pool,' he said softly. But she did not smile as she said in a hard little voice, 'I bet you say that to all the girls with green eyes.' He spoke casually as he straightened. 'You're the first I've met. I've looked into blue, grey and brown eyes, but never green.' A chill struck her like a sudden cloud obscuring the sun. Lowering her eyes from his half-mocking, half curious gaze, she tugged at her bathing cap viciously and dived into the water to swim furiously away. For the second time he popped up just ahead, a provoking light in his eyes. 'Thought you were out of practice,' he said. Greer made no answer and he swam lazily beside her and was out first at the other end of the pool to offer her a helping hand. She took it and suffered him to drop her towelling jacket about her shoulders, suppressing a shiver at the touch of his cool fingers. She sank into a lounger beside Mrs Boncelli and, after a few jocular words with the older woman, Mike dived back again into the pool. Against her will Greer watched his strong cleavage through the water, and with a frightened heartbeat she recalled the disturbing look in his eyes that had sent her diving into the pool away from him.

'Don't you like Mr Fenton, dear?' Mrs Boncelli asked. 'He really is nice, you know, beneath all that cynicism.' 'Is he?' 'Of course. He likes you too.' 'Likes me?' Greer's wide-eyed look wag one of open astonishment. 'Has he said so?' 'Not in so many words, but he does seek your company.' 'That's only because I happen to be with you. He's only being polite.' While she spoke, Greer watched the Turner twins swimming with a large beach ball which one of them threw at Mike's dark head. He threw it back to them grinning and it seemed to Greer that he was using that masculine charm of his deliberately. 'Could be,' Mrs Boncelli replied, 'but don't underestimate your own charms.' Greer laughed. 'Mrs Boncelli, you're a dear, but don't try to fix me up with a husband. I'm quite happy as I am at the moment.' 'That's right. Save yourself for me.' Greer looked up to see Bill Rutherford outlined against the blue sky. 'What about our game of deck tennis?' he added with a cheeky grin. Greer gave a guilty start. She had forgotten all about it. 'I'll go and change. All right, Mrs Boncelli, if I go?' she asked, thankful of the opportunity to be out of the way in case Mike returned. 'Of course, dear. Enjoy yourself.' The Fords gave a cocktail party in the lounge that evening and the absence of Mike could have accounted for Greer enjoying it so

much. She nibbled happily on miniature lobster sandwiches, minute sausages rolled in crisp golden bacon, vol-au-vents filled with exciting delicacies, and chatted with the Turner twins who were looking exotic in shocking pink. Because the evening was warm, Mrs Boncelli and Greer lay on loungers on deck after dinner beneath a sky sprinkled with stars. When the moon rose to throw a scintillating path across the dark water, Greer felt that she would like to stay there all night. Mrs Boncelli retired early, anxious to prepare herself for bed without Greer's help. 'I have to try to be as independent as I can,' she said wryly. 'If you start giving in with my complaint, you've had it. It's much too early for you to turn in yet. Enjoy yourself while you can' Left to her own devices, Greer walked to the rail of the ship and revelled in the warm night air. It was much too hot to dance and she had no desire to see a film either. She looked up trying to identify the really big stars that seemed near enough to touch. 'Which one are you wishing on?' a deep teasing voice said just above her ear. 'Or are you looking for a shooting star?' Mike had brought his dark head down on a level with her own. 'Look, there's one ... and another. See them?' Greer nodded silently, for her heart had dropped with each star before righting itself again, leaving her strangely breathless. She wished he would move away, for she had only to turn her head to kiss him. He straightened at last and she managed to say lightly, 'Don't tell me you wish upon a star?' 'No, I don't,' he answered evenly. 'But I bet you do.' 'Yes, I do. Only in fun, of course.'

'May one ask if any have come true?' he drawled, looking down into her face with some amusement. 'One may. One is coming true right now.' 'I wonder if it concerns Bill Rutherford. Most women like a uniform. Some even marry one.' Her glance was as cool as his own as it lingered on his clear-cut mouth smiling at her so tolerantly and it occurred to her that he would be far more devastating than Bill in a uniform. 'Really?' she said coldly. 'How old are you, Miss Smith?' 'I'm twenty-one,' she answered. 'Quite old enough to know what I want, and it isn't a uniform or a husband yet.' 'No?' he said musingly. 'You really think that's why I came on this trip, don't you?' Her chin shot up indignantly at his silence. 'You're wrong. The idea never entered my head.' His eyes narrowed. 'Don't try to convince me,' he drawled, and lifted a hand at the sparks in her eyes. 'Now, now, I was only teasing. Let's change the subject, shall we?' He turned with his back against the rail of the ship and looked down at her. 'We arrive at October Island tomorrow. Has Mrs Boncelli told you I'm taking you both sightseeing around the island?' 'No, she hasn't.' Greer looked up at him in surprise. He smiled and there was a mocking glint in his eyes. The moon shed its radiance over the deck turning night into day and the silence was

broken only by sweet sounds, the soft lapping of the sea against the side of the ship and the distant sound of dance music from the ballroom. 'She'd probably saving it as a treat for a nice little girl,' he said banteringly. Sliding over this remark, she said casually, 'You must have seen the islands many times. Won't you find it boring?' 'I have a special reason for calling. I'm picking someone up.' She moved nearer to the rail of the ship so that he had to look sideways in order to see her expression. He was rewarded by a delicate profile framed by a cloud of hair which she wore tonight in a loose casual style. 'Your girl-friend?' she asked, and wondered why it was so hard for her lips to frame the words. 'One of them. I happen to be very fond of this one.' Greer had raised her hands to the ship's rail and gripped it hard. So he had a girl-friend, after all. It should have made everything simple. Yet it did not. 'Won't we be in ... the way?' she said at last. 'Not at all,' he answered, and she wondered at his tight malicious smile. As for herself, she had never felt less like smiling.

CHAPTER THREE THE hooting of tugs and the sound of voices broke into Greer's slumber. She opened her eyes, aware that the engines had cut down and that the noise was consistent with a ship approaching a harbour. Leaving her bed, she saw that Mrs Boncelli was still sleeping and put on her swim-suit. The corridors were deserted and she reached the deck to see October Island shimmering in the heat like a strange exotic mirage edged with white beaches where blue waters lapped with frothy nonchalance. The crew were going about their respective tasks facing a busy day ahead with cheerful whistles, several of which were meant for Greer as she passed on her way to the pool. She found a dozen or so early risers already there, but Mike did not appear to be among them. For that she was thankful. She would see him soon enough when they toured the island later. The Turner twins hailed her as she was about to dive in and they streaked across to her like young slender seals. They told her that Mike had been earlier and were obviously disappointed at having missed him. Mrs Boncelli was still asleep when she returned to go under the shower. She dressed and the mirror reflected a slim young thing looking chic and cool in a sky-blue beach dress of Rhonal jersey, belted, buttoned and edged in yellow. The heat was overpowering and ten minutes after her shower Greer felt as though she had never had one. Later, she literally steamed when helping Mrs Boncelli to dress and realized too late that she should have waited before completing her own toilet. They went on deck around eleven. The passengers waiting to disembark, some to leave the ship, others to tour the island, were wearing as little as possible. Bill Rutherford, attractive in his

tropical uniform, stopped for a word in passing. He leaned against the ship's rail and looked Greer over admiringly with a cheeky grin. 'Wish I was coming with you, but I'm on duty, worse luck,' he said with a grimace. 'You've seen it all before.' Greer accompanied her words with a smile at his downcast expression. 'Agreed,' he answered pleasantly. 'But not with a vision in a skyblue beach dress.' He turned his head at the sound of girlish laughter and Greer followed his gaze to see Mike talking to the Turner twins further along the deck. 'Who's escorting the twins, Mike?' 'He happens to be escorting us,' Mrs Boncelli put in mildly. Bill, realizing that he was in the Captain's line of .vision from the bridge, straightened from the ship's rail and gave an exaggerated sigh. 'Some folk have all the luck! So long, have fun and think of me slogging away here.' He strolled away, turning his head to wink at the Turner twins as he passed them. It must be cosy to sail through life as pleasantly as Bill with no complications, Greer thought. Even the heat did not appear to bother him. Mike sauntered along to them, giving the same impression. He looked fresh and masculine in white drill. He could have been on a boat on the Thames for all the effect the heat had on him. He flicked a brief glance at Greer, who had pinned her hair into a neat fold at the back of her head for coolness, and smiled down on Mrs Boncelli. 'You both look nice and cool,' he said, consulting his watch. 'Soon you'll have your first taste of what life will be like on Manna Island. It's around the same temperature as October. Any questions before we go ashore?'

Mrs Boncelli shook her head. 'Not now, although we shall probably bombard you with them during our tour of the island. So beware I' He chuckled. 'I've no doubt that the bombardment, if any, will come from you.' His eyes taunted Greer. 'I must congratulate you on your choice of companion, Mrs Boncelli. She doesn't resolve into empty chatter like so many women do. She knows when to be silent. In short, she's perfect.' There was a perceptible pause, then he added, 'As a companion.' Now what did he mean by that? Greer thought irritably, and wished that it was Bill who was taking them on the tour of the island. At least you knew where you were with Bill. He didn't leave you guessing at veiled remarks. They disembarked with Mike helping Mrs Boncelli down the steep gangway. A large black car was drawn up on the quay occupied by a uniformed native of the island who relinquished the wheel with a wide, white grin. 'The car you ordered, Mas' Mike,' he said, touching his uniform hat politely. Mike's grin was as white but not so wide. 'Thanks, Joe,' he answered, and helped Mrs Boncelli into the front seat with the remark, 'You'll find it easier to get in and out than the back. I'm sure Miss Smith doesn't mind taking a back seat.' 'Do you, Greer?' Mrs Boncelli turned in her seat with a chuckle. 'He's teasing you, you know.' Ignoring the last remark, Greer said sincerely, 'You know I don't. I only hope that in the future you'll be taking a front seat in whatever you set out to do on the island. Your arthritis has made you take a back seat far too long.'

Mrs Boncelli was touched and her smile was misty. 'That's sweet of you, dear,' she said. 'Mike is right. I am lucky to have you for a companion.' They left the quay behind, passing a sugar factory and several warehouses before taking a metal road into the town. 'We've about three to- four hours for sightseeing,' Mike commented. 'We can leave sooner if you feel the heat. Trade winds keep the island between the eighties and nineties, but you might think it much hotter with not being used to it.' The car was certainly like an oven as they cruised along the main part of the town past shops and an exclusive club hugging several opulent cars before climbing a winding road taking them between wooded hills. Here the road was shaded by towering bamboo that met overhead, shutting out the glare of the sun. When the first modest dwelling of a village appeared, Mike explained that, because of a local spring said to possess medicinal qualities, the village they were about to pass through had become a kind of spa. The air, too, was so relaxing that it was proving excellent for people with nervous disorders or invalids recuperating from an illness. They passed a plethora of smart hotels and convalescent homes and stopped to sample the water. Mrs Boncelli noticed black and white cattle in a meadow which, she said, looked decidedly British. Mike said they were, but their milk was sweeter because they munched the tops of sugar cane. He answered Mrs Boncelli's questions, drawing Greer into the conversation by remarks flung over his shoulder as they drove on. They stopped for lunch at a restaurant over the sea. It was a charming place with coconut palms, almond and casuarina trees waving above pink, yellow and blue umbrellas. During the meal Greer wondered about the woman friend Mike said he was going to pick up and she tried to picture what she would be like. The woman would be beautiful, of course,

sophisticated and experienced enough to meet him on the same terms. She was welcome to him! The journey, after lunch, took them to the other side of the island, past park land rioting with exotic blooms to a large modern hospital. Pulling up at one of the long white buildings, Mike withdrew his long length from the car to stride to the entrance where a nurse had appeared carrying a case and arming a plump, elderly woman. Both women were the colour of chocolate. Mike greeted them charmingly, taking the case from the nurse and making a remark which made both women laugh heartily. Then the elderly woman drew, his face down to kiss his cheek before arming him proudly to the car. At the car, he said smoothly, 'My old nanny, Mrs Sam. Mrs Boncelli, you know her husband, Doctor John, Miss Greer Smith.' Mrs Sam was helped into the back of the car beside Greer upon whom she bestowed a large friendly smile. Greer reciprocated, feeling absurdly happy for some reason but avoiding Mike's mocking smile. So this was the woman friend! She watched her settle her plump figure comfortably into her seat. Her black hair was swept upwards becomingly and her dress was a brightly flowered cotton. 'You sure gave me a surprise, Mas' Mike, coming for me like this,' she told the back of his head as he slid into his seat to start the car. 'The doctor says this ole heart of mine is in need of a rest. I didn't want to be a burden to you, so I was going to stay with my sister here on October Island.' Mike spoke without turning his head, giving his attention to his driving. 'I know all about it. The doctor at the hospital here sent me a wire to say that you'd been pretty sick, so don't try to make light of

it. You're going home to Fenton Manor. It's been your home since you took on the job of looking after us. It always will be.' Mrs Sam fumbled in the capacious skirt of her dress to draw out a handkerchief to dab her eyes. 'Yes, Mas' Mike,' she said humbly, giving him a look which touched Greer profoundly. The air became more humid as the ship sailed into warmer waters. They were nearing the next port of call and Mrs Boncelli sat up from her seat on deck to look excitedly at a fast appearing island where villages nestled in grassy nooks on the hillside. 'Did I tell you that my nephew Lloyd is a lecturer? I just can't wait to see him. It's more than five years since we met,' mused Mrs Boncelli. 'He's my favourite nephew and was a regular visitor to our home in London before he came abroad. I think it was his letters to us that finally convinced my husband that I should be better living in a more tolerant climate than we have back home.' She took off her sunglasses to give Greer a teasing look. 'Lloyd isn't married and, besides being comfortably off, he's quite good-looking.' Greer's face flamed. 'Mrs Boncelli, stop match-making! I didn't come here to find a husband.' Her companion chuckled. 'I'm sure you didn't, but you're far too pretty to be passed over. Lloyd has an eye for a pretty girl, so you're certain to hit it off.' Greer made no answer, because at that moment she saw Mike and Mrs Sam coming towards them. He was bending his head in a way he had when listening to someone not so tall as himself. A quiet happiness softened his features and she knew that Mrs Sam adored him. He settled Mrs Sam in a chair next to Mrs Boncelli and bade them a polite good morning, standing over them, so it seemed to Greer, in a most unsettling manner.

'Mrs Sam is going to rest on deck. She isn't coming sightseeing on the island.' He narrowed a quizzical look on Mrs Boncelli 'Sure you two will be all right on your own?' 'Of course,' Mrs Boncelli replied confidently. The arrival of the Turner twins in white beach dresses added a gay note. They knew Mrs Sam and were greeting her warmly, asking her about her relations on the island and talking about a cousin who apparently worked for them. Like Mike, they had not sat down but were hanging on his arms while they talked. The ship's bar opened before they finally reached the island and Mike ordered drinks to be served to them on deck while they waited. The launches eventually appeared and they all waved to Mrs Sam before going down the ladder into one. Mrs Boncelli first ably assisted by Mike, next the Turner twins, then Greer. She saw the top of his dark head and two long brown arms that almost spanned her slim waist as he swung her in beside him. The split second he held her played havoc with her breath and the smite he gave her made her feel lightheaded. Careful now, she told herself, he knows that charm of his works. He has Mrs Boncelli and the Turner twins to prove it. The launch veered towards the shore and Mike offered cigarettes all round, ending with the driver of the launch to whom he chatted until they reached the white sandy beach. They had left the launch when the shriek of brakes caused them to look ahead to the road where a taxi had drawn up. Mike put Mrs Boncelli and Greer into it, then stood back with the twins to wave goodbye. The taxi swerved away with Greer feeling that the brief interlude with Mike had spoiled her day. The prospect of the outing without his colourful presence appeared very tame. It must be the way he had of making every woman he was with feel protected and something special. But he would. Wasn't that part of his charm? What a nit she was. He had ordered their taxi, seen them into it and was now going to enjoy himself with two very attractive girls. Right now he had probably

forgotten all about her. She gazed through the window of the taxi and saw that they were travelling at speed. Shops, offices, and government buildings shot by like pictures on a television screen. Mrs Boncelli was far from amused. 'Are we catching a train or has the driver an undertaker's business on the side?' she remarked in a voice loud enough for him to hear. 'Sorry, ma'am.' The driver slowed down because of the traffic, but he drove on no less erratically. 'No wonder there are so many accident black spots,' murmured Mrs Boncelli in an aside to Greer, viewing with alarm the sombre notices along the way. 'Every driver we pass seems to be intent on committing suicide. I wish we'd known earlier that we were stopping at the island, then we could have asked Lloyd to meet us.' They were now travelling along a cliff road which gave a marvellous view of the town, but Greer did not dare to look down for every second she fully expected to dive headlong into it. Presently, leaving the cliff road, they made for a valley through an area of cocoa plantations, banana trees and ramshackle huts to drive along a road leading to a university. The grounds were charmingly planned with spacious lawns shaded here and there by sameri trees spreading out like huge umbrellas to give shade. Mrs Boncelli told the driver not to wait and they walked to a large entrance door standing ajar to show a cool lofty hall. The sound of their arrival brought a uniformed porter and in no time Lloyd was greeting them. Around thirty, Lloyd Blair was a slim dark man of medium height with the high intelligent forehead of a university lecturer with rather sallow features and melancholy eyes. His smile at Greer when Mrs Boncelli introduced them was reserved but critical as if he was liking what he saw.

Greer found herself seated by him when they had lunch with the Principal of the university and his wife and found him easy to talk to. From the patio where they dined there was a fine view of the road they had taken in the taxi and Mrs Boncelli related their rather hair-raising drive. The Principal's wife, a smart, slim woman in her fifties, was concerned and offered to run them back to the launch when it was time for them to go. They spent a pleasant afternoon touring the buildings and grounds and Lloyd came out between lectures to bid them goodbye. 'Sorry I can't drive you back, but I hope to see you again soon,' he said to Greer holding her hand longer than was necessary. Mrs Boncelli, who was talking to the Principal while his wife fetched the car, cut in eagerly, 'Of course, Lloyd. We shall expect you to stay with us at the earliest opportunity.' He released Greer's hand with a quick squeeze. 'I'll do that, Aunt Myra. I'm quite looking forward to it.' The journey back to the launch was delayed by groups of school children meandering home and at one point a truck of bananas stuck sideways across their path held up their progress. 'Good thing it's Mike waiting for us,' remarked Mrs Boncelli as they came within sight of the beach. 'Other- wise I would have worried about us, being late.' He came striding to them and Greer noticed the twins already waiting in the launch. Mike looked grim. 'Haven't had an accident, have you?' he asked shortly. 'I expected it the way that idiot drove you away. I almost came after you.' Mrs Boncelli explained how they had been held up and he listened disgustedly when she told him about the taxi driver. 'An island is no

place for two women to visit alone. You want a man with you next time.' Back in their cabin, Mrs Boncelli kicked off her shoes. Touring the University that afternoon in the heat had made her feet swell and she refused to budge again until dinner. Greer took a shower, then changed into shorts and a sleeveless top to go on deck and watch the ship depart. Mrs Sam wasn't on deck when she arrived and Mike joined her, saying that even she was feeling the heat and was staying in her cabin. He had showered and changed, his tanned skin glowed and his dark grey eyes had a tantalizing glint as they lingered on her honeycoloured slim bare arms and slender throat. Greer had been too warm to add make-up, but the flush of heat tinted her cheeks and lips realistically. 'What do you think of the islands, or is the heat damping your ardour?' he asked carelessly. 'I thought they were a little primitive, but that's their charm, she breathed reminiscently, remembering the villagers touching their caps in a delightful English way, the children, gay, smiling and well cared for like exotic flowers in the colourful school uniforms and the natural bathing beaches. 'I hate to think that progress might mar it all.' 'There's nothing that you or I can do about that. Everything is constantly changing and we have to accept it gracefully,' he said rather roughly. Greer knew, with a pang, that he was right. His view was the general one and sometimes she resented the calm acceptance of changes that were not always for the best. 'Men are more practical

than women. Sometimes I find it hard to take when something changes from the sublime to the ridiculous,' she said stubbornly. 'And I suppose you worry yourself sick even when you know that the change is inevitable.' His regard was narrow-eyed and speculative. 'Have you plenty of time back home to brood? Any family?' 'I share a flat with another girl.' 'You haven't answered my question. Don't you want to?' She looked up at him, saw that his regard was impersonal and dropped her gaze down to her hands on the rail of the ship. 'I was brought up by foster-parents.' Her hands gripped fiercely on the rail. 'I was abandoned at the age of two. The name Greer was pinned on my clothes.' His deep voice was suddenly gentle. 'Greer is a very nice name. What were your foster-parents like?' 'Marvellous, and I love them. I spend a week's holiday with them once a year and go down for weekends mostly in the summer.' 'Is that where you go swimming?' 'Yes; I take the children with me. There's always around a dozen. They leave when they're old enough to take jobs and others take their place.' For a long moment he gazed down into her smiling tilted face with a look that made her heart move alarmingly. 'Then you have been one of a family of sorts.' I've been very lucky,' she said simply.

Since Mrs Sam's arrival on board, Myra Boncelli had spent most of her time with her, for the elderly islander was a veritable mine of information about her beloved island. The weather was now too hot for them to do anything very energetic and Greer had the choice of joining them in a lounger on deck or using the bathing pool as a means of keeping cool. Consequently she chose the latter and found herself more frequently in the company of Mike Fenton. Sometimes they were joined by Bill Rutherford in his off duty hours and the Turner twins whom she found herself liking very much. She was friendlier with Mike too, laughing when he beat her at deck games, enduring his teasing and enjoying his company. The evening before they reached Manna Island he gave a cocktail party in the lounge. All day the heat had been appalling, but he appeared immaculately groomed and smilingly at ease as if the temperature was normal. He was the perfect host and a popular one. For dinner that evening salads and cold fare were popular and later, when Myra Boncelli and Mrs Sam had gone to their respective cabins, Greer walked round the decks with Mike. A slight breeze had sprung up on the starboard side, tempering the day's heat, making it a perfect night outdoors. Far away on the horizon the twinkling lights of Manna Island appeared strange and unreal. Greer did not want the night to end when, with one accord, they halted by the ship's rail. 'Isn't it a heavenly night?' She shone up at him in the dimness, finding the scent from his cigar a little heady. 'You mean romantic, don't you?' His tone made her bridle. Her light mood fell away. 'Do I?' she answered, borrowing his brittleness. 'Isn't this the magic hour on board ship when one is carried away by the romantic setting?' His tone mocked and she felt heat rise in her

throat. 'I wouldn't be at all surprised to see a couple savouring its magic at any moment.' He turned his head to look along the deck and his mouth twitched when a couple moved in the shadows. Greer followed his gaze and saw the blur of a white uniform. 'Tut, tut! I spoke too soon. It looks like our friend Bill in a clinch with one of the Turner twins.' To Greer the sight of Bill making love to one of the passengers was both unexpected and unsettling. Yet she wasn't really surprised. She did not blame him in the least if the girls were willing to play along with him. Mike was a different matter. She sensed the change in him—a change that quickened her heart beat with warning signs. He spun his cigar into a glowing arc over the water, pushed his hands into his pockets and looked down at her. 'That would have been you if I hadn't monopolized you this evening. I caught several uncomplimentary looks from brother Bill when I joined you at dinner. Has he kissed you yet?' She shook her head, not trusting his unsmiling, thoughtful regard. 'Sore at me for doing you out of a spot of lovemaking? After all, that's what most women look for on board ship.' He sounded almost savage. She did not answer, aware only of the painful hammering of her own heart. His hands came out from his pockets and reaching out, he drew her roughly into his arms. She knew his intention even before he lowered his head. Greer felt a constriction in her throat, knew she should push him away, yet she did nothing. His kiss was firm and masterful and automatically she held herself rigid. Then she was close against him, her hands clasped behind his head. It was Mike who released her and drew back with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

'Pity you can't compare it with Bill's,' he said ironically. 'Anyway, you'll have plenty of opportunity to do so on your journey back home.' The next thing she knew was running to the cabin with tears streaming down her face. How dared he? She felt as though he had slapped her. Treating her like someone out for a shipboard flirtation! Greer stopped outside the cabin to dab furiously at her tears. A flame of anger flared up inside her against him. She had set forth on the voyage uncomplicated and happy in her desire to explore unknown and exciting places. Mike, with his jesting, cynical remarks, his charming gallantry and infectious smile, had gatecrashed her dreams and splintered them with loneliness. She entered the cabin, closed the door gently behind her and saw, to her relief, that Mrs Boncelli had taken advantage of the cooler air to have an early night. Greer did not feel at all like packing her things for their arrival at Manna Island the following morning, and was touched to see that Mrs Boncelli had already packed them for her. Mechanically, she undressed, cleaned her teeth and slipped into bed, wishing Mike Fenton at the bottom of the sea. She awakened at six, put on her swim-suit and left the cabin quietly so as not to disturb the still sleeping Mrs Boncelli. The Shalotte had arrived on the fringe of the harbour during the night and Manna Island rose, green and colourful, from a blue sea, its mountains etched against the crimson and gold backcloth of the rising sun. The air was warm and inviting like the island and despite misgivings a sense of excitement rose inside her. She was young, eager for life and exploring the unknown. A month from now Mike Fenton would begin to be a memory fading away as sure as the island would when once she had turned her back on it. She was shedding her wrap on the side of the pool when someone hailed her.

'Hi! Wait for me.' Bill was approaching, untying his wrap as he came. 'Good morning, beautiful,' he said, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder. 'I'm going to miss you when you've gone. It was rotten luck that we couldn't spend our last evening together.' 'You appeared to be consoling yourself without me on deck last night,' Greer said dryly, amused at his embarrassment. 'Oh, that,' he said, sheepishly. 'I know you won't believe me when I say that I'd much rather it had been you.' He paused, then added on a note of surprise as if the idea had just occurred to him, 'Do you know, I haven't the slightest idea which twin it was.' Greer laughed at his subtlety, dived into the pool and was swimming the length of it leisurely when Bill caught her up with the object of beating her to the other side. She on a spurt and they reached the other side within seconds of each other. Impishly, Greer pushed herself beneath the water on her way back. He beat her, of course, and they pulled themselves out of the water laughing and panting to sit on the edge of the pool and regain their breath. 'If only it could have been like this all the way. Just you and I,' he said regretfully, his gaze roving over her honey-coloured skin, bright green eyes and sweetly curving mouth. 'I met Mike going to his cabin after his swim as I came along to the pool. Have you fallen out with him?' 'No,' Greer answered, her heart beating painfully. 'Why do you ask?' 'I thought he looked fed up over something. Go easy with him on the island, won't you? He isn't the marrying kind.' "That makes two of you.' Greer looked up to see him smiling down at her, his eyes very blue in his tanned face. He was like a masculine bee Sitting from flower

to flower. She doubted if he would have been so attentive to herself had she run after him like several of the other young women had on board. It was surprising what a uniform could do. But even without one, Bill's practised charm was hard to resist. He took her hand and kissed it. 'Don't forget me, will you?' he said with the look of a man who knew that many a woman never would. 'I won't forget you,' she answered lightly.

CHAPTER FOUR IT was Mike who came to their cabin later to tell them that the emigration officer had arrived to stamp their passports. He also steered them through the Customs along with Mrs Sam, taking charge of their luggage, putting it away in the boot and on top of the large limousine awaiting them on the quay. In spite of a breeze the sun was fierce through the car windows. From her seat beside Mrs Sam, Greer found her eyes drawn to his well-shaped head and wide shoulders as he by-passed the interior road to take the coast one. He mentioned that most of the island was extremely fertile and told them that a group of rather small trees with dark glossy leaves that they were passing was called lignum vitae. Early in the year it sprouted a blue mauve flower which was followed later by exotic orange fruits. Further on they saw ackee trees which, according to Mike, were grown on most of the islands. Greer, looking ahead, saw the rich fern flora of the island's growth reaching down to the picturesque bay where the flamboyant sails of boats anchored on the blue water and the violent colours of plants and flowers presented a scene of breathtaking beauty. They passed the modest dwellings of the poorer islanders and came to immaculate bungalows with spacious lawns and drives shaded by interesting trees. John Boncelli had bought a plot of land on a rise beside the sea and, using the local stone, had built a house on it. The result was a sprawling, spacious bungalow set in the splendour of palms and banana trees sweeping down to a white beach and warm sea. The roof was terracotta tiles covering cool blue and white walls surrounded by a shady verandah supporting a blaze of scarlet, mauve, yellow and white flowers.

The car slid along the drive and John Boncelli came down the white stone steps. Dressed in cool white drill, he came forward eagerly, a thin, tall, scholarly-looking man with a gentle manner and twinkling blue eyes beneath a shock of grey curly hair. Myra Boncelli flung herself rapturously into his arms while Mike hauled the luggage from the car and Greer, with a warm smile at Mrs Sam, slid from her seat and waited to be introduced. Presently, with his arm around his wife, John shook hands with Greer and thanked her for looking after his wife before having a word with Mike and Mrs Sam with whom he was already acquainted. Mike shouldered the heavy cases as if they were picnic baskets and dropped them accommodatingly in the hall, politely refusing John's invitation to lunch. 'Thanks all the same, John. I have to see Mrs Sam home as soon as possible. She's had a slight thrombosis and is likely to have another unless she stays in bed for a time.' He shot a brief but keen glance at Greer and gave her a smiling half-bow as he included her in his goodbyes. Mrs Sam raised a plump hand and the limousine purred away. Greer stood for a moment with the frustrated feeling of not knowing what was to happen next. She would have given anything to know that Mike Fenton would not be mixed up in her future, but she knew that she was almost certain to be in his company again soon. It was a small island and the Boncellis were friends of his and there was also the fact that she was obliged to stay for a month before returning home. She stifled a sigh, realized that Mrs Boncelli was speaking to her and that her husband was carrying the cases to the bedrooms. 'Come, Greer,' she cried excitedly. 1 can't wait to look over the house.' Arm in arm they discovered that the house consisted of highceilinged, spacious rooms. There was a dining room, lounge, study, library, kitchen and bedrooms. The surgery was built away from the

house with cheerful, clinically white waiting rooms, .furnished in gaily coloured chairs and glass-topped tables containing magazines. In the house the furniture was light and modern with an elegant indoor look but practical enough to be taken outdoors. The design of the chairs incorporated brightly contrasting vinyl cushions used cleverly with a restrained colour scheme adding a brilliant focal point to the rooms. Mrs Boncelli was enchanted. The house was air-conditioned and it was heaven to Greer to find herself in her rooms where she could relax and keep cool. She had a shower, slipped on a cool lemon cotton voile beach dress, combed her hair and dabbed a little eau de cologne on her temples and wrists before going in to lunch. On the patio elegantly curved chairs, in white cane, with bright emerald green cushions were pushed beneath a long matching white table laid for three. Gaily painted mats marked their places beside tall, green glasses containing serviettes and a magnificent bowl of island fruits was set in the centre of the table. John seated his wife and Greer and a smiling houseboy named Oliver served them with cold meats, fresh salad, fruit and ice cream followed by delicious coffee grown on the island. John was due at the hospital that afternoon and he suggested that they accompanied him to meet the staff and see the fine amenities of the hospital. There they had tea with the matron and members of the staff, one of whom, a Doctor Leigh, gave Mrs Boncelli some pills for her arthritis. The hospital covered many acres and had evidently been added to when expenditure allowed. Everywhere the atmosphere was cordial and unrestrained and they spent a pleasant afternoon in spite of the heat. That evening, before dinner, Greer was unpacking the rest of her dresses, shaking out the folds and placing them on hangers in the

spacious wardrobe when Mrs Boncelli came in looking bright and happy in a sleeveless navy linen dress. She did not have to voice her pleasure at the house and its contents. Her face glowed with her approval. It's all so wonderful, I feel as though I'm dreaming,' she said, sinking into a nylon-covered metal-framed chair with a sling seat in deep midnight blue. 4

I think it's fabulous, like the island,' Greer answered, hanging up a dress. 'I know I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.' She turned to wrap the tissue paper she had used in her packing and smile fondly at the older woman. I'm going to enjoy having you.' She clasped her knees. 'Ill hate to see you go and I was wondering if you would stay longer than the month.' Td love to, Mrs Boncelli, but I want to move on.' 'But why? Is there some special reason that you want to go back so soon?' Greer bent down to take shoes from her case and straightened again to meet Mrs Boncelli's enquiring gaze. 'I'd planned to go to Majorca when I get back. One of the girls at the office where I work has a job lined up there for the summer and wants me to go with her.' 'I see.' Mrs Boncelli drew neat brows together in a slight frown. 'But, my dear, what if you fall in love while you're here?' Greer smiled. 'There isn't much likelihood of that happening in four short weeks.' 'No?' Her companion looked thoughtful. 'Lloyd seemed rather smitten with your charms.'

Greer placed her shoes along the shoe rack in one of the wardrobes and said carefully, 'He may be interested because I'm a fellow countrywoman of his.' Myra Boncelli smiled. 'I don't think you realize, my dear, how very attractive you are with your lovely green eyes and rich auburn hair. I can understand Lloyd being interested. You also wear your clothes well and always manage to look bandbox fresh. What amazes me is that you're still unattached.' 'That's how I want to be, for the time being. I want to see places and meet people I perhaps wouldn't have the chance of meeting if I were married.' 'Well, I suppose you know what you want.' The older woman stood up and a pleased smile spread across her features. 'Do you know it's the first time I've got to my feet without pain after sitting, for a long time. I've taken one of those pills Doctor Leigh gave me, but I hardly think it has had time to work. It could be psychological.' She drew a deep breath of contentment. Greer was interested. 'Why not make an appointment at the mineral baths in the town? You can't begin too soon.' 'Why not?' Mrs Boncelli's brown eyes danced. 'I'll ring them right away.' Dinner that evening was after John's surgery. It wasn't often that he was called out at night. The older women of the island were adept at dealing with confinements and the difficult ones were usually booked in at the hospital. He was lucky, he said, that there were sufficient doctors to share the evening calls. 'What do you think of the island?' he asked Greer. They were sitting in the lounge after dinner and he was puffing contentedly at his pipe.

'It's marvellous,' she said on a sigh. 'I know the month I'm here will go on wings.' 'Then why not stay? We could fix you up with an office job at the hospital. There's the almoner's job coming vacant fairly soon. What about it? I know Myra is hoping you'll change your mind and stay for a while.' Greer shook her head. 'It's very kind of you both to suggest it, but I want to go places and if I stay longer than the month I may never leave.' John smiled understandingly. 'So you've got the travel bug! Well, the world is everyone's oyster today, although I would rather you did it with a man in tow. That way you'd be taking no risks.' Greer smiled. 'It's the risks that give travelling its thrills. In any case, I've no money to throw around. I have to work my way around by securing decent jobs like this with Mrs Boncelli.' John nodded and refilled his pipe. There are plenty of thrills on the island, you'll find—water-skiing, skin-diving and going in a boat around the reef. You two should have plenty of fun together.' 'We expect to,' put in Mrs Boncelli. 'Our first outing will be an early morning swim.' At six-thirty the following morning all three walked the few yards from the house to the white warm beach. Far out on the coral reef the silhouettes of fishermen were etched against the gold skyline, and Greer thrilled to swimming in warm waters which the rising sun turned to flame. She swam out with John while Myra Boncelli floated on her back in shallower water, and spent the most glorious hour of her life that she could remember.

Breakfast on the tiled patio a stone's throw from the blue sea was utter bliss, to the accompaniment of bird- song and the sound of breakers on the shore. It began with a glass of iced tamarind juice which Greer sipped as she watched the iridescent humming birds taking nectar from the plants and trees in the garden. A chocolatecoloured boy in bright blue shirt and shorts delivered their morning papers on a bicycle and gave them a broad white grin. Mrs Boncelli picked up a medical journal and grimaced. 'I shall have to order one or two magazines. The decor of the house is marvellous, John. Who did it?' Her husband looked up from his morning paper. 'A friend of the Fentons, an Englishwoman named Sybil Mere. She has a house on the far side of the island and specializes in interior decorating. She's really clever.' Mrs Boncelli agreed. 'She is, if the house is anything to go by. What's she like?' John frowned thoughtfully. 'Very striking,' he answered laconically. Myra Boncelli gave an infuriated smile to Greer. 'Now isn't that just like a man? Striking? In what way?' John goodhumouredly gave up the second attempt to read his paper. 'She's kind of platinum blonde, has a tall, slinky figure and dresses to match her modem designs.' His wife gave him a teasing glance. 'Sounds interesting.' She passed him coffee. 'If I didn't know you better I'd say that you were being very careful not to appear too enthusiastic over the woman. As it is I know that the only female to invite a second glance from those keen eyes of yours would be a species of female bug in your laboratory.'

Her husband flung back his head and laughed and it occurred to Greer that they were ideally suited to each other. She wondered how many people were as happily married and found herself thinking of her unknown parents. Once again the questions that haunted her though the years demanded an answer. Had they been divorced or had her father deserted them? There must have been some reason why her mother had relinquished all claim upon her, she thought unhappily. The clothes she had been wearing when she was found abandoned had been quite expensive, so her mother could not have been short of money. Mrs Boncelli's voice mentioning her name broke in on her thoughts. Apparently they had been discussing a car which John had bought for his wife and were wondering if Greer could drive. 'Can you drive, Greer?' Myra asked. 'Yes.' Greer pulled her thoughts back to the present to find her employer regarding her kindly. 'I share a car with a friend. It's only a small one, but it gets us to work on time.' 'That's fine,' the older woman answered. 'I can drive myself, but my grip hasn't been too good lately owing to the arthritis in my hands. I feel more confident here, thought There isn't the amount of traffic that there is back home.' The conversation turned to home, with Myra telling her husband of changes there and giving him the latest news of friends and acquaintances. Later, in the kitchen, Greer and Myra were introduced to Oliver's mother, Sapphire, who came in daily to do the chores and washing. Her two youngest sons Zeke and Tomas looked after the grounds and did the errands, Myra was pleased to learn that she would have plenty of leisure to bask in the sun and help her arthritis, but she did

insist upon taking mid-morning coffee to her husband before he left on his rounds after morning surgery. The receptionist, a coffeecoloured girl, named Lita, joined them. She was a pretty girl with high cheekbones and slanting black eyes. She lived with her mother who kept a wool shop in the town. Myra was happy to know this. 'I'll be along one of these days for wool and patterns if my hands improve. I have plenty of time now to indulge in my favourite hobby, knitting.' John went to the hospital after lunch and the two women spent the afternoon on the beach. Around four a boy arrived with an invitation from Mike for dinner that evening. Myra scribbled a note of acceptance and was ready in striped silk dress when her husband finished his evening surgery. Greer wore an easy-fitting creamy white dress with a tab fastening belt overlapping big patch pockets with gilt buttons. Her only adornment was a gold chain bracelet with a heart-shaped locket fastening, a present from Alec Grant on her twenty-first birthday. Greer fell in love with Fenton Manor on sight. Thousands of feet above sea level, it was set on a green plateau amid samari trees and pimentoes. Its high altitude placed it above the lower lands income bracket of mosquitoes, an English house built Georgian style, symbolic of an almost forgotten age. The park land surrounding it , rolled away to strong grey walls of island stone rising like breakwaters to hold back the great sea of tropical growth beyond. John stopped the car at the end of the long, tree-lined drive and they stepped out to a panoramic view of mountains and sea. 'Mike wanted me to build a house here in the mountains,' John said to his wife, 'but I wanted you to have the full benefit of the warm sea on your doorstep. Besides, it's much more convenient for my patients than having to climb a mountain road to the surgery.'

Mike appeared in evening dress accompanied by two golden and white collie dogs with long sensitive noses and gentle eyes. He gave Greer a look of appreciation as he took in the beautifully simple dress and gold chain bracelet on her slender wrist when she stepped from the car. 'It's a beautiful house, Mike,' Myra said warmly, admiring the highceilinged hall with its panelled walls and crystal candelabra giving the impression of opulence and comfort. Janet and George Ford were among the guests already assembled in the lounge where colourful furniture probably made by island craftsmen from the superb island timbers blended charmingly with cushions and curtains. Introductions were made. Greer met the manager of the Fenton estate, a big, blond Irishman and his pretty wife, an athletic, boisterous schoolteacher and his rather meek little better half and neighbours who showered invitations to call on them at any time. She accepted a Tia Maria from Mike, met his enigmatic smile with a brief one and looked at the motley crowd to see the Turner twins bearing down on her with their parents in tow. They were a reserved blond couple who still looked rather bewildered at having produced two boisterous girls. In the dining room everyone was lighthearted and gay, enjoying the food and on the best of terms with each other. The servants were well-trained shadows miraculously producing succulent dishes and handling the slender, delicate decanters with practised skill. Seated half way down the table with Mike presiding at the head, Greer felt his great charm and amazing ability to talk to people and put them immediately at ease. He stood up, easy and relaxed, to make a simple little speech in which he said that the reason for the party was to introduce Mrs Boncelli to her neighbours and, he felt sure,

her future friends. He deplored the fact that his family were away on a world cruise, but was confident that his mother, when she returned, would be delighted to have another neighbour and friend with whom she could have a natter. The dinner appeared to have been prepared to introduce them to the island fare. It began with green vegetable soup, beef with kidney beans and dumplings served on, white rice followed by lobster in a delicious sauce and sweet potato pudding served piping hot with coconut milk poured over it. Music flowed meltingly on the air from a good selection of records, and later Mike accompanied John, his wife and Greer into the grounds. With the sweep of an arm he indicated interminable pasture land chopped into sections by fences and stone walls. There's good land equal to this in the valley with good timber like mahogany and cedar, but up here we have three excellent fresh water springs from the mountains.' He smiled at Myra. 'You and Miss Smith will have to come up one day to see how the property is run. Normally I make the rounds in a Land Rover or saddle a horse. Think you'll like it here, Mrs Boncelli?' She beamed up at him. 'I shall love it. It's every bit as exciting as John's letters would have me believe. The only snag is the hurricanes. I've heard that they can be very alarming.' Mike agreed. They're something you have to learn to live with and you'll find out, with all the precautions we take, that the menace is reduced to a minimum. What do you think of the concrete shelter John has built for you?' He slanted a glance at her husband who was busy filling his pipe.

'She hasn't seen it,' he said. I've been keeping it from her until she settled in. I thought it was time enough to tell her when one does become imminent.' Mike's voice was crisp and slightly admonitory, 1 think you should take both of them to the shelter when you return home with instructions on what to do if one happened and you wouldn't be there to take command. Forewarned is forearmed, and while you or I could cope if taken unawares with a hurricane I doubt whether your wife or Miss Smith here would be able to.' John nodded in agreement. 'Come to think of it, you're right, Mike. I ought to have taken them both to the shelter when they toured the house.' 'It's part of it, isn't it?' Mike said abruptly. Then, in a more amiable tone, he added, 'What about coming to see ours while you're here?' They walked across well tended lawns. 'It's been built on the side of the house that usually takes the brunt of the hurricane,' he explained and led the way down into a vaulted room with comfortable chairs, facilities for brewing a hot drink, magazines, a radio and first aid kit. It had been cunningly built to slope daggerwise into the teeth of the oncoming gale, and was big enough to take quite a number of people. 'Are you worried, too?' Mike asked, slanting down his head in the disturbing way he had when talking to Greer to look into her face. They are rather frightening, aren't they? Yet if that's the only price you pay for living in this earthly paradise, I think it's worth it.' He gave her a long speculative look, 'Spoken like a Briton,' he said banteringly. 'All the same I think you'd better reserve judgement until you've experienced your first hurricane. And while we're on

the subject, don't ever, and I mean ever, ignore a hurricane warning. It's always wise to play the coward and run for the nearest shelter when taken unawares. Take it from one who knows.' They caught up with the Boncellis who were walking a little in front of them as they left the shelter and Mike drew them into conversation. 'I've been telling our young friend here that it can be serious to ignore a hurricane warning. That goes for you too, Mrs Boncelli.' 'John was just telling me about it. It's nice of you to be so concerned—and don't you think you'd better call me Myra?' Mike grinned. 'All right, Myra.' He cast a challenging glance at Greer. 'And Miss Smith?' She answered, clear-eyed and steady. 'Call me Greer if you want to.' 'Thanks,' he said, tongue in cheek. 'The name's Mike.' 'Yes, Mike,' Greer said demurely, assuring herself that there was nothing whatever between them to cause her the least concern. It was just that he was so different from any other man she had ever met. His environment could be responsible for that. He led an easy untrammelled existence. She could never imagine him sitting behind a desk all day like Alec Grant. Now why was she comparing him with Alec Grant? She was certain to meet other attractive men on her travels. Surely she wasn't becoming interested in the first of many? She felt Mike's silent regard and looked ahead to see Janet and George Ford who joined them to ask Myra what she thought of the island. During the conversation Greer suddenly remembered Mrs Sam and felt guilty at not asking about her. She touched Mike's arm. 'How's Mrs Sam?' she asked on a smile. 'About the same. She's in bed where she has to stay until the doctor says she can get up with safety. There appears to be a blood clot

circulating that's rather elusive at the moment and she has to lie quietly with no visitors. I'll tell her you asked after her.' His expression held a baffling quality that she had encountered before and again she knew a strange uneasiness as she looked swiftly away.

CHAPTER FIVE To Greer, the island was a wonderland of beauty with its everchanging moods of tropical loveliness. She revelled in the feeling of freedom that living in a house with the sea on the doorstep could bring. She knew the magic of bathing in sun-warmed waters, exploring the coral reefs and savouring the gay, casual atmosphere of an island where slight breezes blew fresh air inland during the day and turned to blow the stale air out again at night. In the thrill of discovering new joys each day, the plans for her future travels were temporarily forgotten. Myra was beginning to feel the benefit of the sun too. Greer had driven her for her first appointment at the mineral baths, but the second time she went alone, thrilled that the arthritis was not nearly so acute in her hands. That morning, Greer decided to go shopping and set out for a bus intending to be back again for lunch. The bus was like an oven when it eventually showed up filled with islanders going to market. The men wore coloured shirts and shorts, the women, brightly coloured dresses with gay scarves turban-wise round their heads and earrings pierced in the ear itself and not in the lobe. It was appallingly hot when she finally alighted to wander among stalls presided over by smiling islanders. She saw coral jewellery, plaited bamboo baskets and straw mats which, the vendor assured her, were both durable and washable. Greer bought pretty coral necklaces and bracelets for the children at her foster-parents' home, a shopping bag embroidered in gaily coloured flowers and a matching shady hat before strolling to the Spanish-type market place. A fountain played in the square and suddenly, from nowhere, children ran to her begging. She was in the midst of them when the big car drew-up.

With a quickened heartbeat she watched Mike unfold his long length from behind the wheel and look down at her flushed face and very green eyes sparkling with enjoyment. He took his time, his eyes lingering on the tendrils of hair curled damply on her forehead, the slim shoulders and small firm bust in the blue silk before it narrowed on to the shopping bag and hat she was carrying. He looked around. 'Meeting Myra?' he asked with a half-smile. She shook her head, her heart beating like a muffled drum. 'No, she's gone to the baths. I came by bus to do some shopping and I'm going back that way.' Impatiently, he flung a handful of coins several yards away from the children and they leapt for them. 'Couldn't you have come with Myra and let her pick you up when she left the baths?' he asked shortly. Greer clung to her smile. 'She came early—besides, it's fun coming by bus and exploring alone.' His mouth thinned with disapproval. 'You've not been here long enough to know your way around. Bought all you want?' 'I'm not sure,' she answered, annoyed by his proprietorial attitude. Without more ado he took her elbow. 'Come on,' he said, marching her to the car. 'Tell me where you want to go.' But the joy had gone out of her day banished by this tall lean faced man who made no secret of the fact that he found her a bit of a nuisance. At the car door, he paused. 'Were you expected back to lunch?' She nodded. 'Yes. I planned to be back when Mrs Boncelli returns, but I've left a note.'

Then we may as well lunch here and I'll drive you back.' Opposite the fountain was ,an air-conditioned restaurant with a smart facade. The proprietor, smart and efficient, greeted Mike by name and escorted them to a table immaculately laid for lunch. 'One of your countrywomen, Miss Greer Smith,' Mike said laconically when they were seated. The man gave Greer a look from blue eyes in a tanned face unmistakably English. 'So this is what they're turning out now. What I'm missing!' he said in mock dismay. The atmosphere of the island was insidious, Greer decided, or was it Mike's presence? She wasn't sure, but she was finding the West Indian risotto served hot with fresh green salad really delicious Mike watched her obvious enjoyment of the food with some amusement. 'How are you doing?' he asked blandly. 'You mean with the lunch or sightseeing?' she answered politely, finishing off the last of her fruit and ice cream and sniffing with appreciation at the coffee the waiter brought. 'I can see what you're doing to the lunch. I mean the sightseeing.' Mike had eaten his share and accepted the coffee courteously, pouring it out with a steady hand. 'All right so far.' 'How long have you here? A month?' He raised dark eyebrows query-wise. She nodded, accepting her coffee. 'I should manage to see quite a lot in that time.' 'A fair amount,' he agreed. 'There's one trip that's a must for visitors along a seven-mile stretch of river ending in the Caribbean. It's worth while for the magnificent scenery. Interested?' He reached for

cigarettes. Greer accepted one and nodded. He lit it, lit his own, and leaned back in his seat with a level gaze in her direction. 'The best way to see it is by raft.' Greer's eyes glowed. 'Oh, yes! Oliver, the Boncellis' houseboy, has been telling me about it. Making the rafts is a craft that's been handed down from father to son for generations. There's a rough little seat on them for two people.' Suddenly she sobered. 'I forgot, Mrs Boncelli doesn't fancy it. She thinks the jungle-like atmosphere will be too damp for her arthritis.' 'There's nothing to prevent you from going, is there?' She hesitated. Oliver had suggested that a cousin of his who worked his own raft would only be too pleased' to take her if she wished. Much as she knew that she would enjoy going with Mike, she realized that it would, not be wise. 'What's wrong? Don't you fancy the outing with me?' She caught the mocking gleam in his eyes and was annoyed at the colour hastening to her cheeks. 'I'd have to ask Mrs Boncelli.' 'That's all right, then,' he said, and narrowed a look at her as he blew out a line of smoke. 'I'm on my way through our estate on my return journey home and I have to pass some rather pretty falls. Does your adventurous spirit urge you to come with me?' Greer smiled. 'I'll have to, or you'll be saying that my thirst for adventure is only a sham!' He crushed out his cigarette on an ash tray. 'Does it matter to you what I think?' She followed his example and crushed out her half- smoked cigarette.

'Not really,' she said guardedly. 'After all, we're only like ships that pass in the night.' 'Are we?' He sounded as cold as the falls they were going to see. He stood up, pushed a tip beneath his plate and picked up the bill that the waiter had brought with the coffee. 'Come on, it's going to rain later. We'll have to get a move on.' Leaving the town, Mike made for the coast road, passing several picture-postcard blue bays with yachts and boats at anchor and a red-roofed fishing village slumbering in the sun. Then they veered inland, Greer saw orange groves and grapefruit trees and looked down on. a fertile valley before they started to climb steadily upwards. 'This isn't the way Mr Boncelli brought us to your place,' Greer remarked, enjoying the ever-changing scenery. 'No, we're approaching from the other side of the island,' Mike volunteered. At last, passing through a tiny village nestling among tropical flowers and plants, they came upon the falls- Stopping the car, Mike armed Greer over a rustic bridge spanning a mountain stream, and there they were cascading down, sparkling blue-white in the sun. The spray was cool and refreshing and Greer lifted her face, enjoying the dampness. 'Not much to write home about, are they?' Mike said casually. 'But I thought you would enjoy them.' 'I am,' she answered. 'Thanks for bringing me. They remind me of a little place in Cornwall where I once spent a holiday. There were supposed to be pixies there, though, if you went at midnight on a moonlit night.'

She shone up at him, her face glowing with the spray, and his smile was half amused, half derisive. 'We'll have to come one moonlit night to see if we have any here.' They had been standing at the end of the bridge with Greer's hand resting on the rail end beside Mike's bigger one when she felt his fingers at her wrist. He was fingering the gold bracelet which she had decided to wear at the last moment and she tried to read his expression. 'Was it a present?' he asked. She nodded, unwilling for some reason to tell him that Alec Grant had bought it for her. 'Hmm, gold. Twenty- two carat, too. Very nice. Foster-parents buy it for you?' 'No,' she answered, looking down at it gleaming in the sun. 'A friend.' 'Your young man?' 'Just a friend,' she insisted evasively. His regard was curious. 'Judging by the gift, he's hoping to be something more.' 'Perhaps,' she said flippantly, not caring for the trend of the conversation. He was probing, and she disliked people who probed especially on such short acquaintance. 'He doesn't appear short of money. Why didn't you marry him and travel the world for your honeymoon?' Her lode was one of wide-eyed surprise. 'That's what Eve said.' 'And who is Eve?' The girl I share a flat with. She's going to be married at the end of the year and she has marriage on the brain.'

'And you haven't?' 'Decidedly not. I want to travel and see the world before I settle down. I want to be free to go where I like.' She flung out her arms with joyful anticipation and something glittering sailed through the air into the falls. Greer grasped her empty wrist. Her bracelet had caught on a knot in the wooden rail of the bridge and her sudden movement had wrenched it off. 'My bracelet'.' she cried in dismay. 'It's gone!' 'I'm afraid it has,' he said dryly. 'You needn't look so smug,' she shot at him, as she caught the sudden quirk of his well-cut mouth. 'I'm not being smug,' he said suavely. If it's only the loss of the trinket that's upsetting you, I'll buy you another.' Greer did not answer. She stared at the spot where it had disappeared. It seemed almost like an omen, as if her last link with Alec was severed. She shivered in the warm air, aware that clouds were darkening the sky. 'We'd better go,' he said, scanning the heavens with experienced eyes. The clouds appear to be passing over, but rain is due, I can feel it in the air.' He put on speed once they were in the car. 'I was going to take you to the estate warehouses to see the cocoa and coffee beans and nutmegs, but I'd better take you back in case Myra is worried about you. You can see them another time.' They were almost home when the rain came like a sheet of steel, beating down fiercely on the top of the car. Mrs Boncelli was evidently looking out for Greer, for she was at the door as Mike stopped the car.

He shed his jacket and put it over Greer's head, despite her protests that she could wear the hat she had bought that morning at the market. In the end, she plonked it on his head as he almost carried her through the deluge wrapped in his jacket. 'I'm glad you're back, dear,' Myra said, concerned. 'I didn't begin to worry until the rain started. Goodness,' this to Mike, 'your shoulders are wringing wet! You'd better change your shirt for one of John's.' Mike shrugged himself into the jacket that Greer handed to him' and lifting the hat from his head, placed it on hers with a grin. 'It's all right, thanks, I'm tough,' he said. Greer had gone to her room, caught a glimpse of her hair in the mirror looking dull and lifeless after the day's outing, and washed it. She showered, put on a dress of white flowers on a lilac ground and went to the lounge to find that Mike had gone. Myra looked up from a magazine on her knee. 'You're looking very sweet, my dear. Come, sit down, and tell me how you spent your morning. Mike told me that he met you shopping in town. He also asked me if he could take you on that trip down the river tomorrow. You know, Greer, you can go anywhere you wish providing you let me know where you are so that I shan't worry.' Greer leaned forward and kissed Myra's cheek. 'You're very good to me,' she said sincerely. 'You're good to me, too.' She placed a hand over Greer's as it lay in her lap. 'I wish you weren't going home so soon.' Greer was ready the next morning when Mike called to collect her at nine. She had put on her swim-suit beneath a towelling jacket when he arrived in shirt and shorts over his swimming trunks. Mike drove past banana and coconut groves and entered the shady lanes of

bamboo forests between which there were sudden bursts of sun. The road then wound into more dense forest growth until they reached the river. In a clearing, Mike took the picnic basket from the car before locking it and they walked to the banks of the river where an islander, stripped to the waist of his lithe, muscular body, awaited them with his raft. Mike paid him and he accepted the money with a delighted grin. 'Sure you don't want me to come, Mas' Mike?' he asked, his dark eyes hopeful. 'No, thanks.' Mike's refusal was dismissive, but the islander lingered, bending forward to help Greer on board when Mike set the picnic basket down. Against the fierce glare of the sun, the breeze was no more than a whisper. Mike stood at the tapered end of the raft to pole it away from the shade of the trees into gently turbulent waters. From her seat, Greer watched his strong muscular arms moving easily in rhythmic strokes. There was silence but for the noises of the river, the screech of parakeets and frogs became entangled with the heady scent erf flowers and thick exotic growth. The scenery was for ever changing and Greer saw herons standing gracefully in the shallows and doves perched picturesquely on locust trees. Along the river bank, women were doing their laundry, spreading it out like gaily coloured flags on huge boulders to dry. Presently the rapids swelled out into a swirling circle around a small island and Mike pointed out mullet swimming in the clear water. The sun burned through her towelling jacket, but Greer hardly noticed it, she was too entranced with the passing scenery. Mike's deep voice identifying strange tropical growth when it appeared and

the wild life gave added magic to the scene she knew would not have been there had Oliver's cousin taken her on his raft. At a tiny white beach, they stopped for lunch and a swim. Mike stripped white silk shirt and shorts from his swimming trunks and Greer shed her towelling jacket and beach shoes. They swam lazily in the sun-warmed water and lay on the beach to dry in the sun. Greer relaxed deliciously, her skin glowed and she was in a heavenly torpor when Mike suggested lunch. He opened the picnic basket to bring forth a large flask, cups, plates and a cloth. There was chicken, roast beef between fresh rye bread, cheese, oranges, apples and cachou nuts which Mike said grew wild on the islands. To Greer it was nectar from the gods finished off superbly by a cup of extremely enjoyable coffee that Mike passed to her with a grin. She answered it with a smile of pure enjoyment lighting up her eyes and dimpling her cheeks scarlet from the sun. 'Glad you came?' he asked softly. She nodded. 'Extremely.' She took a long satisfying drink. 'Lovely,' she said, and laughed quietly when he passed her an apple. 'What's the joke?' he asked tolerantly, selecting one for himself. She looked at his lean, brown muscular body gleaming in the sun and said coquettishly, without knowing it, 'I was thinking that the Garden of Eden must have been similar in surroundings to these, and you offer me an apple!' Her glow deepened beneath his experienced gaze when he laughed. 'With a few adjustments. You need a fig leaf and ought to be offering me the apple.' He gave an audacious wink, laughing at her

embarrassment. 'Please note that I'm about to eat it, so beware!' His strong white teeth sank crunchingly into the fruit, Greer followed suit and for a few moments they munched in silence. Then he whispered softly with a strange gleam in his eyes, 'The last bit is right, though. We're here all alone and I've already learned quite a bit from the tree of knowledge. Afraid?' His grey eyes challenged her green ones and she shook her head. She almost said yes, but managed to say lightly, 'Why should I be? I've learned a bit too, you know.' He took a last bite of his apple and sent the core spinning across the water before rolling over on his front to look at her with narrowed gaze. A tremor ran through her his nearness. She turned and looked into his eyes, but as usual, they were enigmatic. She knew now that she ought to have refused his invitation firmly but politely, Greer had taken off her bathing cap and her hair was a gleaming mass of fire in the sun. He appraised it with a smiling face that told her nothing. 'So you're not afraid of being alone with a man miles from anywhere? Does that mean you think I'm not capable of grand passion? Is that why you feel safe, because you think that I'm a cold fish?' He spoke a little irritably and she looked at him against her will, noting the small lines at the sides of his handsome grey eyes, the thick, shining black hair and chin full of character and slightly formidable. 'I know you're not a cold fish. For one thing you're much too considerate for other people's well-being to be incapable of feeling yourself,' she managed coolly. 'Funny you should say that, because that is precisely what I would say about you. Only you haven't awakened yet. You're like an

ostrich with its head in the sand lifting it to gaze at some island shimmering in the sun or later, perhaps, a sphinx in the desert.' Greer answered him calmly without the merest flicker of an eyelid. 'If you mean that I'm not counting affairs in with my adventures you could be right. Affairs can be dangerous, and I value my freedom too much at the moment to want to risk it with anyone.' She lowered her eyes away from the intentness of his gaze. He spoke quietly, tauntingly. 'Would you have me believe that you don't enjoy the company of a man? That a man taking your hand in his, like this,' he took her hand and twined his fingers in hers, 'doesn't make your heart beat a shade faster?' Her nerves tightened with a kind of strange fear that threatened her resolve not to become involved with anyone and she resisted the inclination to snatch her hand away. She would not gratify him with any show of girlish emotion. He was probably piqued because she had not succumbed to his charms. It would be easy to succumb and enjoy her stay on the island with a touch of romance thrown in. But she did .not want that. Gseer knew that she was not the kind built for affairs. Some day there would be one man for her and no more. This man worried her because he knocked down her defences like a pack of cards, and seemed to enjoy doing it. He wasn't serious. She knew that. It was only because his folk were away and he was at a loose end. She just happened to be available to add a bit of spice to the island fare. 'For me it would have to be a special man,' she answered at last in a voice strangely unlike her own. 'You mean someone you were in love with?'

She nodded without looking up, not daring to meet his knowledgeable eyes. He moved a thumb thoughtfully across the base of hers. 'Well, well, my little idealist—you have an awful lot to learn, haven't you? Suppose you hazard a guess at why I've remained single,' he drawled. Greer considered this in silence, then answered warily, 'I could think of a dozen reasons, but with you I'd say that it's because you haven't yet met the woman you couldn't do without.' His look was a mixture of incredulity and sardonic amusement. 'That's right. I'm not likely to either.' His tone altered, became jeering. 'You know, you're a clever girl. Do you read palms or teacups?' 'Neither,' she replied. The mechanism that his touch had set off working inside her had subsided helped by his return to a bating attitude. 'You wouldn't believe me if I did.' 'I certainly wouldn't. Man should be capable of carving out his own destiny without consulting that tripe. How did we get on to this subject anyway?' Releasing her hand, he rolled on his back and closed his eyes. After a few moments Greer did the same. She must have fallen asleep, for she awakened with the feeling of being kissed. She opened her eyes to a vista of blue sky with the sun momentarily blocked out by passing cloud. Lifting her head, she saw that Mike had donned his silk shirt and shorts and was packing the picnic basket. Greer let her head fall back again on the white sand, loth to leave a paradise that in her heart she knew she would never gaze on again with the same fresh glow of discovery. She allowed her thoughts to wander, wondering where she would be twelve months from now —India, Ceylon, Burma? The whole world

was her oyster and she sighed pleasurably, giving a start when Mike's voice, cool and commanding, cut in on her thoughts. 'Come on, my little idealist. Let's get going before the rains come.' Greer sat up under a sky rapidly filling with atomic- looking clouds. The rain seemed to arrive at exactly the same rime each afternoon. Mike followed her apprehensive gaze at the leaden sky, then strolled towards her. 'Not to worry. We shall make it in time to the car.' She allowed him to help her to her feet with an impersonal grip on her hand. 'The air has a hypnotic effect, hasn't it?' he said carelessly, as he walked loose-limbed, swinging the basket in one hand and his other lightly holding her elbow, Greer did not answer. She sat on the little rough seat on the raft and he dropped the picnic basket beside her. Conversation on the way back was only prompted by Mike and concerned the passing scenery. The washerwomen had gone, taking their highly coloured washing with them. She watched labourers at one point collecting coconuts from the trees along the river bank and gazed at dead palm trees sailing dejectedly on the clear waters. Above her, the sky rumbled with menacing cloud shutting out the sun. The air was still warm though and so humid that she almost nodded off to sleep and looked up to meet Mike's steady regard. 'Sleepy? It'll take several weeks for you to get used to the climate, and by that time you'll be returning home.' Greer managed a smile. Trust him to remind her that she was only a visitor! He could also be reminding her that he was merely being polite and accommodating in showing her the beauties of the island. Well, he need not be so formal. She was no threat to his cosy bachelor state. The clouds were very low and menacing when they reached the bank to find the owner of the raft waiting for them with a white grin.

Spots of rain pelted them as they entered the car and the deluge came with staccato peals of thunder and lightning frightening in its intensity. Mike flung her a concerned glance as they swished through the water already cascading on the road. 'Want to get in the back of the car and cover your head?' Greer shook her head. 'I'm not afraid of thunderstorms. At least it's still warm and one doesn't get the shivery feeling that so often accompanies the rain back home. Oh, look!' She was staring straight ahead to where a dog lay shivering with fright and soaked at the side of the road. 'Poor thing! Let's pick it up.' 'It's only one of the many stray dogs you'll see in the course of your stay on the island. It's also probably covered in fleas and might bite us for our pains,' Mike said grimly. Nevertheless he stopped the car, scooped up the dog and dropped it on the back seat. Slamming the door shut, he whipped out a handkerchief to wipe his wet face and drove on. 'It's only one of the unsettling sights you'll see abroad, you know,' he went on as they swept through the rain. 'You aren't back home where everything is taken care of by a welfare state and an animal-loving public. You're on an island whose people live to their own set of rules and you have to accept them along with it. You might think that according to your own standards some of the things here are wrong, but it's their way and their island. If you never forget that you can be happy but don't criticize or try to reform. Just relax and accept them as they are and you'll be happy.' Greer looked over her shoulder at the dog lying exhausted and shivering and shuddered to see how emaciated it was. 'It's half starved, poor thing,' she said sympathetically. 'What breed is it?' 'Mongrel,' he replied cynically, 'with more than a bit of a Dobermann in it by the look of it. It's a good strain. They're alert, faithful and make good household pets. It needs training, though, if you want to keep it. I've a border collie if Myra needs a dog.'

He peered through the window in between the windscreen wiper at the rain which was now easing off its incessant tattoo on the car roof. Then they were turning into the coast road and the Boncellis' residence was in the offing. Oliver was at the door to gape at Mike with the sodden animal in his arms. 'Come on, jump to it, Oliver,' he roared. 'Soap, water and an old towel. We're going to wash a dog.' Mrs Boncelli came out of the lounge at the sound of voices. 'Goodness! What have you got there?' she exclaimed. 'A present we picked up,' Mike answered laconically over his shoulder as he strode through to the back of the house. Myra gave a good-humoured shrug and smiled at Greer. 'Thank goodness you're back,' she said. 'What a storm! You weren't caught in it, were you?' 'No,' Greer answered. 'But I will go and change.' She paused. 'I hope you weren't afraid of the storm, Mrs Boncelli.' The older woman laughed lightly. 'Goodness me, no. I'm never afraid of the elements. I always think what will be will be. Where did you find the dog?' Greer explained and Mrs Boncelli was filled with concern. When Greer went to her room the older woman made tracks for the back of the house. Later, wearing a pretty white lace dress and leaving her hair loose to swing becomingly on her slim shoulders, Greer entered the kitchen to see the dog, sweet-smelling and shiny, wolfing a small dish of stew. Oliver looked up from his contemplation of it and grinned.

'Mas' Fenton says dog have no more food until tonight. He says dog take it easy until his stomach has been accustomed to food.' Greer nodded, smiled and waited until the dog had licked the dish so thoroughly that a lump rose in her throat. Then she knelt down to it. 'Careful, Miz Greer,' warned Oliver. That dog wild, might bite.' 'I know,' said Greer as the dog thrust a warm nose against her hand. She cupped its face to gaze into warm sherry-coloured eyes. 'You're out of condition, pet. Your nose is warm,' she said. 'And what do you intend to do about it?' Mike said jeeringly from the doorway. 'I can see it's going to be spoiled sick.' He leaned against the door jamb, 'Mrs Boncelli has refused the border collie. She wants to keep your stray. I suggest a twenty-four-foot lead and twice a day training in the grounds with no nonsense.' He paused, then added, 'I could take it home and have it trained for you.' Greer shook her head. 'No, thank you. It might get fond of you and that wouldn't be a good thing seeing that it's going to be our ... I mean Mrs Boncelli's dog,' she stammered, correcting herself. 'As you wish.' He straightened, his eyes roving over her dress and shilling hair. 'You'll have dog hairs all ova: that pretty dress if you're not careful. As you remarked just now, the dog is out of condition. Oliver can cycle up to our place later when the rain has dried up for something we use for our own dogs to put pep into them. She needs a tonic badly. By the way, it is a she.' He grinned - at her sudden flush. 'What are you going to call her?' Greer hesitated. 'Mrs Boncelli might like to give her a name.' 'She's leaving it to you because you found her.'

Then we'll call her Beauty. She's not very beautiful yet, she's too thin and scraggy, but she will be in time with care and affection.' 'I'm sure she will,' he said ironically. 'She's sure to with two women drooling over her.' He turned as Mrs Boncelli appeared behind him holding a dog lead and collar triumphantly. 'I've found it,' she said, looking rather pleased with herself. 'I knew I'd saved it when Floss died. We swore we'd never have another dog, we were so cut-up when she died. I think I'm going to like this one very much.' She put out a hand to fondle its ears and it licked her hand. It's getting mushy already,' Mike said on a disgusted note. 'Well, I'll have to be going.' Mrs Boncelli turned hastily. 'Must you? Can't you stay for dinner? He shook his head. 'Afraid not, much as I'd like to. Can't leave everything to the manager. Besides, I'm coming to your dinner party on Thursday.' 'So you are.' Mrs Boncelli laughed at her own forgetfulness. 'I'm hoping that my nephew, Lloyd, can make it. He has promised to spend a holiday with us. He'll be company, for Greer when I go to the mineral baths and on other occasions when I don't go out.' She gave a rather self-conscious laugh this time. 'I adore this house so much that I haven't yet passed the stage when I can bear to leave it. What with the sea being on our lap, so to speak, and taking our meals on the patio in view of the lovely garden.' She slanted a roguish twinkle at him. 'Lloyd is a friend of yours, isn't he?' 'He is,' Mike answered briefly.

Myra's gaze darted from him to Greer and back. 'I think he's taken a toss for Greer. He held on to her hand like a limpet when we left him after our visit to the island.' Mike included them both in a narrow gaze. 'I'm not surprised. He must find her quite a change from the dusky dolls he spends most of his leisure with.' With one accord they all three walked across the hall to the front entrance. Mike dropped down the two steps leading from the terrace where everything was steaming again in the sun and paused. 'So long,' he said, giving Greer a one-sided smile. 'Hope you get your companion. If Lloyd does show up ask him to bring you to our place for the day. Do you ride?' 'No,' she said tightly. 'In that case, I'm sure Lloyd would love to teach you. So long!' They answered in unison, Greer with a feeling of frustration. He was the most exasperating man she had ever met. His remark earlier about her dress could have shown that he was interested in her as a woman. Now his attitude and his handing her over to the absent Lloyd gave the impression that he was glad to get her off his hands. She wished that she could make him fall for her, then tell him that she was not interested. But she knew such wishes were futile. The only person liable to be hurt would be herself. When she lay in bed that night she recapped the events of the day, and found herself pondering on the moment she had awakened on the beach with the feeling of being kissed. The heat must surely have affected her head if she thought that Mike had kissed her awake. She had dreamed it, of course, and the shadow she had imagined of someone bending over her was the storm clouds passing over the face of the sun. The

heat was certainly getting her down. All the same she went to sleep with a smile on her lips.

CHAPTER SIX THAT evening, Greer saw Beauty take her supper in the kitchen, liver and meat cut up and mixed with hound meal topped by a raw egg to give a shine to her coat. Oliver had collected the meal and meat along with the vitamin tablets crushed up in her food from Mike. She was only about eleven months old and her teeth and eyes were in excellent condition, although she was half- starved. She could have lived on what fruit and vegetables she could find to account for it. Greer found her to be remarkably intelligent and gentle and was quite looking forward to training her in the grounds each day on the long lead that Mike had sent for the purpose. She would not see the full result of her labours because in less than a month she would be on her way home, but at least she would have the satisfaction of having been the means of settling a poor little homeless dog in a home. There had been no word from Lloyd, Myra's nephew, and Greer forgot all about him, but she could not forget that Mike was coming to the party. She found herself wondering what his family were like and toyed with the idea of asking Oliver, but decided against it, thinking that they would not be back before she left the island anyway. Mrs Boncelli was anxious for her first party to be a success with no jarring notes. She had the names and addresses of her neighbours from her husband, who was already familiar with them on his rounds as a doctor. Mike had sent a load of tables, chairs, cutlery and dishes, and Myra, who believed that a party needed to be planned down to the minutest detail to be at all successful, got cracking. Candlelight was a must, she decided, because it was kind to all ages and the guests did not have to keep powdering up the moisture on their skins when the food started up the hearing process inside them.

The menu was to include young sucking pig, meat pies with golden, melting crust, buttery potatoes in crisp golden jackets and lightly cooked young vegetables. For a sweet she used the island's favourite pudding, a mixture of sweet potato, milk and eggs baked to a golden brown. Early on the day of the party, Greer took the car and went into town at Myra's request for a few last-minute purchases. She set off early, passing bonny, smiling children dressed neatly in their school uniforms along a road lined with freshly cut bananas awaiting transport. She saw an arrowroot plantation that she had not noticed before and gave way to several little gaily painted horse- drawn carriages which the islanders used for taking visitors sightseeing. Isolated groups of islanders were waiting for the bus to pick them up to take them to town and Greer gave a lift to an old woman and a tired-looking young one who had a brood of children clinging shyly to her skirts and a baby in her arms. Greer mused that the peasant type of women on the island appeared content to decorate their lives with babies while the men could not have-cared less. In the town, Greer did her shopping, calling last at the post office for stamps and the drug store for calomine lotion in case of heat rash. A golden haze of heat hung over the town as she slipped into the hot seat of the car and slid towards the quay where a ship had already docked to unload passengers and freight. Mrs Boncelli had suggested her going to meet the boat just in case Lloyd was on it. He was. Greer was standing by the car when she saw him almost as soon as he saw her, and he came forward eagerly, dressed in white drill and carrying an overnight bag. Her pink lips parted politely into a welcoming smile showing small white pearly teeth and unaware of the picture she made in her leafgreen sleeveless cotton dress in a paisley design. She was wearing the large shady hat embroidered with flowers she had bought from

the market and with her slim golden legs tapering into white sandals, she looked golden, young and very feminine. 'I didn't expect this,' he said, smiling broadly. 'What a pleasant surprise. I see you got my letter.' Greer looked blank and, for a moment made no effort to free the hand he hung on to. 'But we didn't,' she said. Lloyd tut-tutted. 'I reckon it was too much to hope for. It will turn up later. It's one of those things you have to learn to take on an island where time doesn't exist.' He released her hand rather reluctantly. 'How are you liking it here?' 'I'm loving every minute.' He sat beside her in the car, half turning to look with unconcealed admiration at her clear shining eyes and golden tan. 'It's certainly suiting you. Aunt Myra and Uncle John want you to stay. Do you know that?' Greer piloted the car passed a line of lobsters for sale in baskets. 'Yes,' she answered briefly. 'Are you going to?' She nosed round a cartload of sweet potatoes. 'I promised myself I'd go back,' she said carefully. Lloyd laughed good-humouredly. 'I promised myself I'd go back after a year, but I haven't. Don't ask me why. It could be that I enjoy my work here and the easy life with no rat race behind it. Besides, I've no one waiting for me back home. No ties. So it looks as if I shall sprout roots here eventually.'

'You have your aunt and uncle here now and I'm sure they would be terribly disappointed if you left. Your aunt is thrilled with the island and her arthritis is really improving. She has had pills from a doctor at the hospital and he has also put her on a diet. She's very fond of you.' Greer gave him a warm smile. 'I happen to be fond of her, too. I'd miss the sun and the beauties of the island if I went away now. They've become part of me.' Greer chuckled 'By that I take it you mean the feminine beauties too. I agree. They're really very beautiful,' she said recalling several slim, sultry creatures with honey-coloured skins, glossy black hair and slanting eyes who drifted behind the counters of the better class shops, polite, seductive, and very feminine. 'They are included, I grant you. Pity they rim to fat when they mature.' He sighed dramatically. 'Still, you can't have everything, and they brighten a dull day.' His rather bold eyes roved over her. 'I like your hat. Some of the islanders are very skilled, aren't they? The flowers are worked in a kind of coloured raffia and blend charmingly. Hmm, very pretty, and the face it frames is prettier still.' 'Now, now, it's a bit early for amorous remarks. They go down much better in the evening than the morning,' Greer chided on a light note. She wasn't feeling as chirpy as she appeared to be. She was even a little annoyed at the blatant invitation in his eyes. He played around with the island girls and did not seem averse to playing around with herself. It did not take spectacles to see that Mr Lloyd Blair was out for everything he could get except marriage. The island had spoiled him with its abundance of everything including women, and no man threw such obvious opportunities over his shoulder, not the Lloyd Blairs anyway. Her thoughts switched to Mike. At least, he was no playboy. He lived up to the character in that firm chin of his. Lloyd Blair was attractive with his

dark, heavy-lidded eyes and Latin manner, but his chin was decidedly weak and she found his conceit vaguely irritating. 'Have you met Mike Fenton's family?' she asked at last, treading on safer ground. 'Yes. When I first came to the island to see Uncle John we dined with them occasionally. Then I joined the skin- diving club at Deep Bay to discover that Mike was the chairman. After that I was invited regularly to dinner at Fenton Manor along with the other members. His parents are charming and his mother is one of the most popular and sought-after hostesses on the island. When she gives a party the cream of the island keep their diamond fingers crossed hoping she'll invite them.' Greer longed to ask him more, but they had arrived at the house, so she gathered her purchases together hoping that she had bought everything that Mrs Boncelli had requested. The dinner party was a success. Everything went off without a hitch. The guests invited had all accepted and appeared on time, some curious, no doubt, to see their new neighbour in her new surroundings. Even the weather had been in their favour and for the first time for a week it had not rained in the afternoon. Oliver, his mother and extra help waited on the guests who, pleasantly full of good food and mellowed by wines, liqueurs and rum punch, talked amiably together. Mike appeared to be enjoying himself like the rest. Tonight he wore a smartly tailored grey lounge suit with a silk shirt startlingly white against the mahogany of his tan. Greer sat facing him at the table with Lloyd on one side and Janet and George Ford on the other. She wished she had had the foresight to move herself lower down the table. She might have known that Myra would seat her by Lloyd to further their acquaintance. Greer had been talking to Lloyd most of

the evening without the merest ripple of excitement or quickened heartbeat, but the knowledge that Mike was a few feet away upset her profoundly. He was talking to John Boncelli and the occasional flash of his teeth aimed straight for her heart. Once or twice when the Fords had drawn him in conversation across the table, Greer had lowered her eyes swiftly from his gaze. The night .wore on with lanterns coming alive on the trees leading to the sea. Fireflies glowed like so many jewels in the garden and the air was perfectly warm. Later Greer went to collect Beauty and take her along the beach for her evening walk. The sea, so beautiful by day, was enhanced at night by the red-gold of the setting sun which turned the surface into a mass of moving molten metal. The beauty of it caught at her throat as she strolled along with Beauty in tow. Beauty, who had appeared loth to move from her side, now began to dawdle and explore with the curiosity of a house-trained dog. She had settled down surprisingly well and the Boncellis adored her. Most evenings they all three walked with the dog at night before going to bed, for as Mrs Boncelli said, the sea was too beautiful to leave even for sleep. Greer was happy that things had turned out so well for her. The pleasure of her morning bathe was increased by the happiness of Myra's face and she swam in the warm sea almost free of pain in her limbs. So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she gave a startled gasp when a shadow loomed behind her. The sand had deadened Mike's approach. 'Sorry if I startled you. Have you come here because you want to be alone or are you admiring the view?' His voice was tantalizing. 'I'm always admiring the view,' she replied above the painful thrust of her heart against her ribs. 'Beauty is somewhere about. I'm taking her for her evening walk.'

'How's the training coming along?' he asked curiously. 'Very well,' she replied evenly. He turned and gave a sharp whistle. Beauty came bounding up, her sherry-coloured eyes aglow, her pink tongue lolling out happily from her mouth. 'Sit!' Mike commanded. She sat. He grinned at Greer. 'Congratulations. You're doing a good job. What, else are you good at training?' She could have said, I'm trying to be good at training an unruly heart to behave when you're around. Instead, she replied coolly, 'Why? Anything in mind?' He chuckled. 'Not at the moment. How's the romance going?' Greer wrinkled a youthfully smooth forehead. 'Romance?' 'You and Lloyd? Myra's determined to throw you together. She doesn't know the half of her nephew. Sit down, I want to talk to you.' They sat down on the warm sand, at least she did. He lowered his long length beside her, lying on one elbow and gazing out to sea. 'Every woman is a challenge to a man in a different way. To a man like Blair, satiated with the charms of the island women, you're something refreshingly different. Incidentally, he's very friendly at the moment with a young woman from the Diving Club at Deep Bay.' Greer wasn't in the least surprised to hear that Lloyd was amorous. Those Tarzan eyes betrayed the fact that they had worked overtime swinging from one set of feminine limbs to another. 'And you?' she asked curiously. 'Are you not interested in any of the island women?'

'No, I'm not.' His answer was clipped and without humour. 'Not anyone at the Diving Club either? I'm surprised.' His voice hardened. 'Are you? I haven't the time to play around with women even if I wanted to, which I don't. I'm merely pointing out that Blair's weakness is women.' 'I don't need you to tell me that,' she said tersely. 'Lloyd behaves himself when he's with me and that's everything.' 'Is it?' He looked at her through narrowed lids. 'Chance is a fine thing where Blair's concerned. Don't let him manoeuvre you into a tight corner. He can keep his intentions well hidden until the moment he has been waiting for arrives.' Her stare was innocently incredulous. 'Why are you telling me this? You know that I've no intention of becoming involved with anyone while I'm on the island. Besides, I don't believe Lloyd could do anything that might upset his aunt. He's too fond of her.' He gestured a hand impatiently at her disbelief. 'Myra could have remained in ignorance of the true character of her nephew, but now she's on the island she's sure to find out a little about his goings on.' There was a significant pause, then, 'Maybe she already knows what he is and that's one of the reasons she wants you to stay. She probably sees his salvation in you.' 'But that's absurd! I refuse to believe it,' she said indignantly. 'No need to get angry,' he said equably. 'You're fond of Myra therefore her nephew must be all right. Don't be more of a chump than you can help. You're not experienced enough to weigh Blair up in his true colours. You think he's a ladies' man but harmless. Actually, he's the worst kind. He covers his baser instincts by a cloak of respectability.'

'Don't all men?' 'Most of us learn self-control. That's one of the attributes to good breeding. Blair's way of life is one of congenital lust.' His frank revelations needled her. 'Have you any proof of what you're telling me?' Curtly, he said, 'I would supply you with a few sordid .details, but I wouldn't pollute the evening air with them.' She bit on a soft lip, said crossly, 'I've only met Lloyd twice. It's enough for me to know that he's Mrs Bon- celli's nephew. I don't think she would stand any nonsense from him.' His tone bore out the absurdity of her remark. 'Wouldn't she now? She's besotted with the guy. She's like some of the mothers we come into contact with in the law courts. They swear their sons are saints when they know darned well that the innocent little boys are committing every crime under the sun.' 'You'll be telling me next that Lloyd's a criminal too.' 'But you wouldn't believe it if he was, would you, because you don't want to.' His voice touched on a very low key and was cold with anger. 'You've gone all quixotic. Even now that feminine brain of yours is thinking of a way to help Blair mend his ways, and that's, sheer lunacy on your part, You've enough character for two people. Myra saw that the first rime she met you. That's one of the reasons why she wants you to stay here with her. It isn't anything she's said to me. I saw all the signs when she seated him next to you at dinner this evening.' 'You said just now that Lloyd was having an affair with a woman on the island: If that's the case he'll hardly revert to me, a visitor unless he wants an excuse to be rid of her.'

'Exactly. Then again he might think that you were fairly safe for a holiday affair and make the most of it You'll be gone in a matter of weeks and for him the affair would be finished.' Greer stiffened. The finality of his last statement disturbed her oddly and she was suddenly flung into the depths of despondency without knowing the reason. She wasn't attracted to Lloyd and it wasn't Lloyd who was upsetting her. It was Mike. She had come to the island thrilled with the sense of adventure, enchanted by the warmth of its climate and its people. She was going to have a glorious month of heaven on a tropical island. Instead, she was being thwarted by Mike who appeared at every turn to put a damper on her enthusiasm. Greer remembered the incident on board the Shalotte on the evening he had escorted to her cabin, his cynical remark that he did not think her capable of handling a shipboard romance. He evidently did not consider that she was capable of handling one on the island either. It was almost as though he disliked her intensely and was getting at her. He's making me dislike him too, she thought, saying on an exasperated sigh, 'I hardly know the man. In any case I shan't be seeing an awful lot of him. He doesn't live on the island and the chances are that we shall never become really acquainted during my stay.' His regard was one of cynical amusement. 'My dear innocent! None of Blair's affairs last long. He's too wily a bird for that. Besides a philanderer like Blair only needs a couple of hours to get his teeth into an affair. You're appallingly innocent, my child' 'Perhaps that's better than being cynical,' she retorted. 'It would be if you had a man to take care of you and appreciate it. As it is you're open to every scoundrel you may meet. You never ought to have been let loose on the world without more experience to cope.'

'How do you know?' she asked indignantly, wishing that she could really shake him with a startling revelation of some sort. 'I might be a Jezebel of the worst kind.' His laugh made her feel like hitting him. 'What with those eyes and that untouched look? Never!' Beauty came bounding up at that moment to drop a piece of driftwood near to Mike. In an almost angry gesture he picked it up to fling it some distance away. She bounded after it joyfully and brought it back. He threw it again and Greer watched her go to retrieve it feeling restless and near to tears. Goodness, she was allowing the man to get her down. What was the matter with her? A quick glance showed the stern contours of his face softened by the half-light, but the grimness was there. She could sense it. The great, strong Mike who could tear the veneer from a degenerate man without a qualm and reduce herself to someone that she did not even recognize. She just had to get away. 'We'd better be going,' she said huskily. 'Mrs Boncelli will be wondering where I've gone.' She was on her feet before he could help her up with the feeling that the touch of his hand would be the last straw. Mike slipped the tips of his fingers into the immaculate pockets of his lounge suit and strolled square-shouldered beside her. Beauty was still playing at carrying the piece of driftwoods to him and he threw it nonchalantly ahead. Greer promised herself that if he said anything else she would let him have it and tell him to mind his own business. He did. 'I wouldn't say that Mrs Boncelli had missed you, but Blair might. I'll even go so far as to say that he could be looking for you at this moment. Don't behave as if you hadn't been warned.'

Greer opened her month with the intention of scoring him off when she saw the silhouette of a man coming their way. To her dismay she recognised Lloyd.

CHAPTER SEVEN LLOYD had planned to stay over the weekend and on Friday took Greer to the skin-diving club at Deep Bay. Driving there, Greer was again impressed by the beauty of the island. They passed through savagely beautiful country where small wooden houses were surrounded by so many children that she was reminded of the old nursery rhyme about the old lady who lived in a shoe. The old lady in question was usually to be seen seated on the top step of the house smiling benignly on her brood while she carried on with her knitting. The club at Deep Bay was exclusive and the last word in comfort. Only a stone's throw from the sea, they sat in gaily striped loungers on a tiled patio beneath the feathery fronds of casuarina trees whispering to the breeze. The turquoise sea was decorated with white foam sent up by the water-skiers cutting through the water with incredible speed. Greer watched with amusement as monkeys scaled flamboyant trees full of the joy of a freedom that epitomized the spirit of the island. Members were introduced and Greer, relieved that Mike was not there, wondered about the woman he had said Lloyd was having an affair with. She wasn't left long in doubt for presently a woman, coffee-coloured, her superb figure in a bikini still wet from the sea, approached carrying a snorkel and flippers. She moved with the feline grace typical of the island women and which Greer found so fascinating. Lloyd introduced her as Gemma Royd who lived with her uncle, an artist, on the far side of the island. Greer, watching her cross pretty legs after sinking into a chair beside Lloyd, judged her to be in her early twenties and was instantly chilled by the unfriendly gleam in her liquid dark eyes when Lloyd introduced her. If Lloyd noticed the lack of friendliness in Gemma he gave no sign. He was too sure of himself and his charm, Greer thought, and felt

sorry for the woman if what Mike said was true and she had no reason to doubt his word. Several more members strolled up from various pursuits in the water and to Greer's surprise the Turner twins hailed her joyously. 'What luck to have seen you!' one of them exclaimed. 'We're giving a party tomorrow evening and, knowing how the post is on the island, we wondered if you had received your invitation.' Greer could not make up her mind which twin she was talking to and decided it did not matter. She was so pleased to see them. 'No, we haven't,' she said, smiling warmly. They drew up chairs beside her and a waiter brought drinks. They asked how she liked the island and what places she had already visited. Greer told them and listened to their suggestions for other outings. During the conversation, she was aware that Gemma and Lloyd were talking together in undertones and Lloyd sounded angry. When she looked their way again, Gemma had gone. The Turners' invitation arrived the following morning and Myra was pleased about it. Greer was helping her into her dress that evening and she said chattily, 'litis is a new world for me. I hardly stirred out of the house in the winter back home because it was too painful. Now I'm becoming a real gadabout.' She looked with appreciation at her reflection in the mirror. Her dress was black lace with cleverly inserted white silk panels. 'It's about time,' Greer answered, taking a comb to touch up her smart hair-do. 'There,' she said, stepping back to admire the result. 'You look very nice.' Myra nodded happily. 'I do, don't I, and it's all thanks to you. I don't know what I shall do without you.'

'Nonsense,' said Greer lightly. 'You'll have Oliver's mother to help you and she has far cleverer fingers than I.' A clock chimed through the house and Myra looked at her watch. 'Good gracious! That's seven o'clock and still no sign of John and Lloyd. I'm sure they're not playing golf until now. I hope they aren't going to be late. We're due at the Turners' party at half past eight.' 'Not to worry,' said Greer, and went to her room to change wondering fleetingly if Mike would be there. She had put on the lime green dress she had worn once on the ship and was applying lipstick when she heard the car. Five minutes later she entered the lounge and her heart dipped to see Mike, immaculate in white drill, talking to Myra. 'Greer,' she said, 'Mike has come to take us to the party. Isn't it sweet of him? I think I'd better wait for John and you can go with Mike. It won't seem so bad if one of us turn up on time because I'm sure John and Lloyd are going to be late.' Greer's feelings were mixed, but she strolled with a set little smile to Mike's car and waved an airy au revoir to Myra. Taking the inland road, they travelled beneath towering bamboo through which the sun filtered at various intervals. There was little traffic on the road and apart from one or two mini-mokes painted gaily with flowers and hearts conveying sightseeing groups, the road was quiet. Neither had spoken since the formal greeting and they might have gone on in silence had not the small monkey decided to cross their path almost under the wheels of the car. Mike pulled up with a shrieking of brakes and said something unprintable under his breath. But his anger turned into a grin when the small creature chattering in disgust paused at the side of the road to put out an impudent tongue. Greer tittered, heard Mike's chuckle

and met his grey gaze with dancing green eyes. 'Poor little mite! We must have frightened the daylights out of it,' she gurgled. Their gaze collided and clung and vibrations inside tier set up a glow around her hem. It was Mike who broke the spell. 'I thought he'd had it,' he drawled. Greer, who was still breathing unevenly, looked out of the window and the car moved on. What a fool she was to go all bemused because a man happened to look at her in a disturbing way. It was a good thing that she had decided to travel. She needed the experience to face unforeseen incidents calmly. She might even end up as cynical as Mike who was as unshakable as the mountains that backed his home. She tried to relax and saw with surprise that they were going in the direction of his estate. 'Aren't we going the wrong way?' she asked curiously. 'I thought the Turners' hotel was on the coast road.' 'It is,' he answered coolly. 'I'm not kidnapping you, if that's what you think. We're calling somewhere on the way. As a matter of fact, I did intend picking you up alone and suggesting that the others follow in John's car, but the scene was already set for me.' Here we go again, she thought. He's going to do something to spoil my evening out. With some trepidation she watched the car emerge from the friendly shade of bamboo and was rewarded with a view of the distant hills. In the golden glow of evening they took on a bluish cast with a hint of mauve and an all-over greenness merging mysteriously in the crystal clear air. Strange that when Mike was with her everything around deepened in colour and the outlines became more defined, more beautiful. When he forked left, she recognized the road leading to the falls. He stopped the car near to the bridge over the mountain stream and helped her out with a

faintly mocking air. Walking her on to the bridge, he regarded her small, sensitive face. This is where we left off, I think.' 'Is it?' she replied, wishing she knew what he had in mind so that she could be prepared. But his expression gave nothing away. Holding her gaze, he withdrew a case from his pocket and, opening it, revealed a gold chain bracelet with a locket fastening identical to. the one she had lost at the falls. 'This is to replace the one you lost.' Greer looked at it in confusion and dismay. On a reflex action she stepped back and put her arm behind her as he reached for her wrist. 'I don't want it, thank you,' she said in thin tones. 'Why not?' 'Because ... well, it wouldn't be the same, would it?' she faltered. He regarded her shrewdly. 'I don't want it to be the same because you're not quite the same person who received the other.' Greer stared. 'What do you mean?' 'What I say. You've changed. You don't know it yet, but you will.' 'You're talking in riddles. I don't want it, thank you,' she repeated. His hand fastened on her arm, drawing her wrist forward so that he could fasten on the bracelet. 'You've got it whether you want it or not. It was my fault that you lost the other. If I hadn't brought you here that day it wouldn't have happened. I'm merely replacing it.' His mouth took on a cruel slant. 'It's not binding in any way.'

Greer looked quickly away. She didn't want the bracelet. She wanted to forget all about him when she left the island, and what chance had she to do that if she had his gift? The short silence vibrated. Her words tumbled over each other in her effort to break it. .'I appreciate the thought behind it,, but it wasn't at all necessary for you to replace it. I lost it. Can't we leave it at that?' She turned a look that was more appealing than she realized and consequently was taken aback at the change in his manner. The grey eyes darkened into slits of cold steel and his voice had the same metallic quality. 'No, we can't. You're placing too much importance on a small thing that is merely intended as a replacement for something you lost through me.' He made a gesture of distaste. Throw the damned thing away if you don't want it. Now, come on. Let's go.' To Greer, the next few minutes were confused She felt his grip on her arm leading her to the car and she slid into her seat feeling more unhappy than she had been for a long time. The rest of the journey was completed in silence with Greer rigidly trying to credit that less than half an hour ago they had been laughing together. Now there was a wall between them so impregnable that it might have been ten feet thick. The bracelet was an iron band on her wrist and no less heavy than her heart. Drat the man! Drat all men, she thought. The Turner Hotel was a smart, sprawling white building flaunting an apron of white beach with a frilly edging of turquoise sea. The hotel, cleverly designed to give all the rooms immediate access to the sea from small terraces, browsed in a scene of splendour. Picturesque trees nursed brightly coloured small birds, gaudy parasols smiled on the gay outdoor furniture, while in the bay motor-boats and sailboats danced on sparkling water. On their way from the car, Greer and Mike were joined by Mrs Turner who

welcomed them, explaining that she was taking a peep at the party to see that all was well. The twins were -giving it on their own as she and her husband were fully occupied at the hotel with the unexpected arrival of Canadian tourists. When the twins, looking very attractive in cornflower blue, came to greet them, Mrs Turner asked Mike to walk across to the hotel with her. Her husband had a problem that he thought he could help him with. The twins armed Greer to an alfresco cocktail bar where pretty women and sunburnt young men were gathered. Nearby a steel band sporting cocked straw hats and bare torsoes above colourfully redsashed breeches were bleating out calypsoes. Greer accepted a seat in the shade and a drink. She sat poised and outwardly enjoying herself listening to the steel band with a young couple she had been introduced to. When the Boncellis arrived with Lloyd, she found herself looking round for Gemma without result. It was a gay party. Dancing with Lloyd, Greer could have enjoyed herself but for Mike. She hadn't quite recovered from their set-to on the small mountain bridge. She found herself wishing that she could keep out of his way for the rest of her stay, for he seemed bent on gate crashing all her pursuits. However, she was spared from seeing him again that evening. One reason was that they left early. Around half past nine John had a call from a patient and Myra decided to go with him. So Greer, not wanting to be left behind with Lloyd, went too. John dropped them all off at the house before going on to his patient. They were having a nightcap in the lounge when Myra, sitting opposite Greer, remarked casually, 'I didn't see you wearing your bracelet when you left for the party this evening with Mike.'

Greer felt her colour rise and avoided Lloyd's glance to pat Beauty, who was giving taps with her paw to say in her way that she had not had her usual evening walk. Greer was loth to relate the story of the bracelet and, to her relief, Myra did not pursue the subject. Instead she turned her attention to the dog. 'Greer must take you on your walk tonight. I'm off to bed.' Lloyd rose to his feet at the same time as Greer. 'I'll go with you,' he said. She walked beside him with Beauty running joyfully ahead and guessed that Myra had deliberately left them together. Fortunately she had never felt out of place with Lloyd. He might make her feel a. trifle embarrassed with those looks of calculated charm, but he did not affect her emotionally, not like Mike. 'I didn't see Miss Royd at the party,' she said, for something to talk about. 'Gemma? Her uncle could have been entertaining. In that, case Gemma would be acting as hostess.' She wondered if the woman had sent him a note or if he had told her to keep away. Something about Gemma repelled her, but it did not make her any the less curious. 'Is her uncle a bachelor?' 'No. He's a widower. His wife was an invalid and Gemma went to them from school to look after her. When she died two years ago, Gemma stayed on to look after her uncle. Now she's become too attached to the island to leave it.' Attached to the island or you? Greer thought wryly, then conceded that it was none of her business.

Lloyd and John went off for a round of golf on Sunday morning and Myra suggested going to morning service at the little church in the mountains. The drive proved to be as uplifting as the service. The small church was reached by a dozen or more steps and was very picturesque with its Gothic windows and quaint bell tower -set against the rugged grandeur of the mountains. The view was breathtaking. Far below lay the valley threaded with the silver ribbon of mountain streams while beyond, in a vista of everchanging light and shade, blue bays sparkled in the sun. The preacher, an elderly islander, was, judging by the large congregation, extremely popular. Greer did not see Mike until he went forward to read the lesson. The sun sent rainbow beams through a stained glass window on to his dark head and wide shoulders in white drill. He read the beautiful passage on Love from Corinthians and, listening to his deep voice, Greer felt a riot of emotion welling in her throat. Myra was thrilled. 'I was quite surprised to see Mike reading the lesson. I love that passage from St Paul, don't you?' She prattled on with Greer only half listening as they walked into the dazzling sunshine. Among the congregation that spilled out of the church were several of their neighbours, then Mike was there smiling down at Myra charmingly. 'Mike!' she said. 'What a lovely surprise it was to see you. I must confess that when I altered the church I felt its strangeness, and I'm sure Greer did too. Then you appeared and everything was grand.' She laid her hand lightly on his arm in a confidential gesture. 'You read the lesson beautifully.' 'Thanks,' he replied, and strolled beside her to the car. He opened the door for her, and while she slid inside, Greer went round the car to slip into her own seat beside her before Mike could assist her. But she need not have bothered. She might not have been there for all the notice he took of her.

Bending down to look at Mrs Boncelli, he said, 'I'm having a small party on my yacht next weekend. I shall be very happy if you'll join us.' 'We'll be delighted. Thanks for asking us. John might be on call so it could be just Greer and me. Oh, and Lloyd if he comes. Will that be all right?' 'Perfectly.' Myra had been driving for a few minutes before she commented on Greer's silence. 'You're very quiet, dear. Don't you want to go on Mike's yacht next weekend?' Greer said lightly, 'I don't see why not. I want to see as much of the island that I can during my stay,' adding silently, but not with Mike. He's too unsettling. Later, when they were all having lunch on the patio, Lloyd suggested a picnic in the afternoon. 'Not for me, thanks,' Myra declined. 'And I think John has one or two calls to make this afternoon. Take Greer.' 'I could hand them over to a colleague if you really want to go,' John said equably. 'No, dear,' his wife answered. 'I'm having a lazy afternoon on the beach.' Greer did not want to go either, yet she could hardly refuse. She did look up at the sky, though, where there were a few doubtful clouds. 'Do you think the weather will hold?' she asked, hoping she did not seem too obvious.

'Of course,' Lloyd replied. 'Besides, we have the car to pop in if it rains.' So Myra had Oliver preparing a picnic basket for two and Greer went to her room to put on a cream linen suit in case it rained. She could carry the jacket, and with that thought in mind she put on a very pretty sleeveless top in gay colours. She found the drive pleasant enough as they passed through green scrubland and several picturesque villages where they stopped at the small shops. Greer bought some pink and white coral table decorations for Myra and a very unusual pipe for John evidently made by a craftsman. They opened the picnic basket by a mountain lake sheltered by the pretty lacy green leaves of logwood trees. 'There's one great advantage of living on these islands,' remarked Lloyd between bites of a chicken sandwich. 'You enjoy every day. Back home you only really enjoy the spring and summer months. The rest of the year you're too busy warding off colds from the fogs and icy spells.' Greer bit on a small tasty tomato thoughtfully. 'You're right up to a point Speaking for myself, I love the clear frosty mornings and the feel of soft rain on my face. Come to that I like the snow too and the picture it makes when freshly fallen. I think being healthy has a lot. to do with it, having nothing to fear from the cold like Mrs Boncelli. She's absolutely revelling in the weather here and is much better.' 'Poor Aunt Myra. She's had quite a rough time of it, and the change in her is remarkable.' They both fell silent and gave their attention to the appetising food Oliver had packed. At the sound of a tapping noise, Greer looked up to see a woodpecker in a nearby tree and was aware of Lloyd studying her as he lay on an elbow beside her.

'You have an entrancing profile, but I bet you've been told that before by other men,' he said teasingly. 'How many broken hearts did you leave behind?' She returned his look without a quiver seeing a small warning light. 'Let me know how many you left and we'll compare them some time.' He gave a knowledgeable smile. 'I'm afraid my affairs would make yours appear pretty juvenile. I've been around.' 'You still are. Is Gemma Royd your latest victim?' He sat up astonished. 'What do you know about Gemma and me?' Greer shrugged. 'My dear man, it stood out a mile when you introduced us. She disliked me because I was with you. You must have noticed.' 'Gemma and I are friends. She's like a mermaid in the water and we've done a lot of exploring around the reef together. She knows I'm not serious. I don't think I could be with any of the island women, especially since I've met you.' Greer raised pretty brows. 'What's so special about me?' He passed her the flask to pour out the coffee and it occurred to her that, had he been Mike, he would have poured it out for her. 'Don't you know? For a pretty woman you're refreshingly unconscious of your own charms.' She poured his coffee and passed it to him with a steady hand. 'That's nice of you, and so good for my ego!'

'I could be nicer. What about the men you've met on your holidays from time to time? I'd like to bet they reached the kissing stage after the first day, and here am I not even holding your hand yet.' 'I'm surprised you want to. I should have thought that your vast experience had taught you that it's wise to be off with the old love before sampling the new,' she said evenly. His conceit and confidence in his powers to attract filled her with nausea. He was the kind of man who regarded all women as cheap, the kind she had never had the time for. He could have sensed her sudden withdrawal from easy friendliness to cold reserve, or he might have thought that he would have to use a more delicate approach where she was concerned. He laughed. 'Don't go all frigid. There's a kind of satisfaction in teasing a pretty woman. I forgot just how reserved English women can be even today.' 'Being reserved doesn't prevent them from seeing a wolf when it appears,' she said tardy. 'But a nice wolf,' he said softly. A rumble of distant thunder rent the air and Greer, looking up at the darkening sky, suppressed a shudder. 'I think we ought to go,' she said much more calmly than she felt. Not for worlds would she give him the slightest hint that she would be relieved to return to the Boncelli residence. 'Pity,' he said. 'Just as our talk was getting interesting.' That's what you think, Greer thought, returning everything to the picnic basket. They were in the car when the sun burst through as brightly as ever. 'You see,' said Lloyd turning the car. 'You dithered over nothing.'

They had almost left the mountain road when the clouds thundered together and the deluge came. Suddenly round a bend the boulder loomed, blocking their path. Lloyd stopped the car to peer through the windscreen wiper at the sheets of rain. 'Impossible to get past that and it's too huge to move. We'll just have to back and pray that nothing comes crashing into us.' They backed the car for what seemed to be an interminable time, amid vivid flashes of lightning and ear- splitting clashes of thunder. At last they reached a forked road. It was clearly off the beaten track and deep ruts in it indicated heavy loads possibly of bananas or sugar cane from the plantations. They rocked along it in parts to a round of damns from Lloyd, who had lost his sense of humour and replaced it with an ugly look. 'Hope we can make it back,' he said. 'Much more of this kind of rain and the roads will become impassable.' Greer hoped so to and kept her doubts to herself. If she had been with Mike she would have felt differently, but Lloyd was the kind of man who did not inspire confidence. She felt a little happier when they reached a village of sorts where people were crowding in the small shops sheltering from the storm. 'There's a hotel near here,' Lloyd said. 'It's closed to residents during the off season, but we can have a drink there and wait for the storm to pass on.' Tt could go on for the rest of the day.' Greer eyed what she could see of a leaden unyielding sky doubtfully. Lloyd made no reply. Strangely enough he appeared to have regained his sense of humour. His voice, when he spoke again, was cheerful. 'Ah, there it is just ahead 1'

Greer couldn't see much of the hotel because they dashed in through the rain, but she did have the impression of a stone facade built Spanish-style. A smiling barman supplied them with drinks, Greer a rum punch, Lloyd a double white rum, and they sat in white cane chairs by a matching glass-topped table. Greer sipped her drink for something to do and wondered where the manageress could be. The only staff on duty seemed to be the hall porter and the barman who kept looking their way with a closed expression which disintegrated into a grin when she caught his eye. She felt on edge, and when switched-on music filled the large empty room it did nothing to calm her fears. They had been wrong to stop while they had a chance of getting through. Now it could be too late. Greer put down her drink having lost the taste for it, but Lloyd tipped his up and ordered another. The way he allowed his eyes to rove over her above the edge of his glass made her flesh creep. It was all she could do to smile naturally at him. They were so cut off in this great empty barracks of a place with only a grinning barman and a tropical storm. She gazed across the room and watched the rain heaving against the windows like massive waves beating a storm tossed vessel and each crash of thunder aimed directly for her temples making her head spin. When Lloyd bent her way to speak to her she gave a startled gasp. 'Relax,' he said softly. 'If the worst comes to the worst we can always spend the night here. Why not have a wash and freshen up?' His tones were low and confidential, but she was sure the barman knew what he said by the smirk on his face. For the first time in her life, Greer felt cheap and humiliated. Lloyd looked so pleased with himself that the reason was obvious. He had intended this to happen. With his eye on the weather he might even have planned it. She choked on her own fury at being so naive as to fall in so completely with his plans. She ought to have taken the car and gone on her own. By now the roads would be in a fearful mess and she had not the least idea where they might be. Well, she would not be such an easy

conquest as he would discover. There was no harm in playing along with him until she could think out what to do. The hall porter was summoned and she followed him up a wide staircase and along a carpeted corridor where he admitted her to a room. She entered a bedroom furnished in yellow mahoe with cool green walls and white ceiling. For a long time Greer stood at the window until the storm grew less violent, leaving only the incessant rain. She looked at her watch. It was half past six. Time enough for them to be on their way when the rain abated. If Lloyd refused to take her she would go alone. In the bathroom, she bathed her hands and face in cool water and ran a comb through her hair. The damp had deepened the colour and it curled around her head in deep shining waves. The air had a sticky humidity that repelled make-up, so she added a hint of colour to her pink lips and went downstairs. When she entered the bar, Lloyd was not there. The barman, looking up from a newspaper, told her that he had gone to freshen up before dinner. He apologized for not putting on the usual menu, but they would do their best. It could have been her lost look that prompted him to lean over the bar and say urgently, 'Go, missus. Him bad man with women.' Greer, white to the lips and feeling sick inside, walked with as much dignity as she could muster to the entrance. It was still pouring down when she ran to the car hoping that Lloyd, in his hurry to get inside out of the rain, had forgotten to lock it. He had. She slipped inside and slammed the door. The car engine responded to her shaking fingers and she shot away. Greer drove constantly on the look-out for earth and boulders washed down by the heavy downpour. She did not meet a soul or a vehicle and she hoped with bated breath that she would not be bogged down. She must have been going for half an hour when the leaden sky eased a little to allow the sun to peep through. The steel sheet of rain

thinned into golden rods and eventually stopped. Greer was so relieved that she stopped the car to try to locate her bearings. According to her calculations, she should be somewhere near to Mike's estate. If only she could find the highway! The interior of the car was like an oven. She wiped the perspiration from her temples and gave a thought to Mrs Boncelli who would be upset when she returned alone. She would never believe anything base about Lloyd. Not that Greer wanted her to. Let her keep her illusions as long as possible. She could say that Lloyd had decided to stay the night with friends and that she had come on alone. After all, nothing had happened and he might have played the gentleman and not forced his attentions upon her. She wound down the window and started the car gradually beginning to notice the change in the surface of the road. Until now it had been rough and littered with debris from the storm. The road ahead was a hard metallic one free from debris, the land each side being battened down by strong healthy trees. It could be the beginning of the Fenton estate, but which end? The estate was so vast that she could drive around it for hours. Well, at least she was on a decent road and would eventually come across one of the workmen's cottages. Greer came upon the workmen unexpectedly and stopped the car to watch them move a tree that had fallen across the road blocking it. There were half a dozen islanders, their brown muscular bodies straining as they dragged it clear. She was about to ask them the way when the horse and rider appeared. Her heart gave a sickening lurch and she gripped the car wheel with white knuckles. The horse was a big grey mare and the virile figure swinging down from its back was Mike.

His keen eyes took in the scene at once and, after a brief glance in her direction to which his only reaction was the lift of a sardonic brow, he addressed the men. 'There's another down about half a mile this side of the falls. Well move this later. The men moved off in a group and disappeared through the trees. Mike strolled up to her lazily, his skin mahogany in the sunlight. In those brief moments Greer took in his appearance. He was hatless in a white silk shirt and riding breeches that revealed the quality of supple strength in the long, narrow-hipped lines of his body. He looked down at her taking his time, missing nothing of her paleness and the tenseness of her hands on the car wheel. His eyes were a clear dark grey, his lashes thick and healthy like his hair. Greer's gloom lifted. She could have laughed with relief. He might butt in at times when he wasn't wanted, but this time she didn't care. This was Mike, and with him she felt safe. He would put her on the right way home. She wouldn't tell him any details, only that she had been touring the island and had lost herself in the process. She smiled, said lightly, 'I'm all kinds of a nut to tour the island on such a day, but the rain caught me out and I'm afraid I've lost my bearings. I'd be awfully grateful if you'd put me on to the main highway.' 'You're miles away on private property.' 'I'm sorry,' she answered, still smiling. 'That's all right,' he remarked with cool politeness. 'We're not averse to a pretty girl decorating the landscape. What brought you this way?' 'I told you, I lost my way.'

'Yes, you told me. Where did you go?' He came to put an arm along the top of the car and look down at her. 'I drove through several pretty villages where I shopped for presents, then I stopped for lunch from the picnic basket.' His gaze shot to the picnic basket on the back seat of the car before returning to her face. 'What happened, then?' 'Well, it started to rain, so I made tracks for home along the mountain road and found a boulder blocking my way. I backed the car and eventually landed myself here.' He stared at her for several moments, his mouth grim. 'You backed the car along a mountain road on your own?' he said incredulously. She nodded and watched him straighten from the car. Striding to where his horse grazed on the side of the road, he tapped her lightly on her flank. 'Go home, Floss,' he commanded, and saw her obey amiably. A few strides and he was back again, whipping open the door of the car. 'Move over,' he said. She slid along her seat, mystified by the signs of controlled anger in his movements. In his seat he half-turned to face her with his mouth tight and full of purpose. 'Now let's have the truth, shall we? Where's Lloyd?' She affected surprise. 'Lloyd?' she echoed. 'Yes, Lloyd. I happen to know he was with you.' 'But... but how did you know?' she stammered. 'Easy enough,' he answered curtly. 'Mrs Sam wasn't too well, so I drove over to ask John for some special pills she's been taking. Myra told me that you were out with Lloyd on a picnic.'

She he had known that she was out with Lloyd, but he could not know what had happened. She felt his eyes raking her profile and summoned her wits. 'Lloyd decided to stay with friends and I came on ahead in case Mrs Boncelli was worried.' 'Am I to believe that you, a stranger, drove along roads that can be dangerous even in good weather to someone who doesn't know them?' Greer was silent. Normally she was a very truthful person and to be caught out in lies was bad enough, but when the person to do so was Mike, it was shattering. 'I want the truth,' he said. 'I know Lloyd's no hero, but I doubt if even he would consent to your driving back alone in such adverse conditions.' She bit her lip. He was proving more difficult than she expected. But he wouldn't be Mike if he didn't do everything thoroughly even to prising into the most intimate details. 'It's none of your business,' she said at last, defiantly. 'All I ask is for you to put me on the right road home.' He took heir up curtly. 'It's very much my business. Here you are a lone Englishwoman thousands of miles from home laying yourself open to all kinds of danger. I shudder to think what could happen to you if you insist on your hare-brained scheme of seeing the world. You haven't even the sense to steer clear of trouble when you've been warned.' Her hands clenched damply in her lap. 'That's my business.' 'And I'm making it mine. We're not moving from here until you tell me the truth.'

'Then we'll sit here until you decide to show me the way home or better still leave me to find my own way,' she said furiously. He thrust a hand in his pocket for cigarettes and offered her one. She shook her head, her face white and strained. Unperturbed, he lit one for himself and blew the smoke out of his window. Greer fumed for several moments before she exploded. 'It doesn't mean anything to you that Mrs Boncelli might be wondering what has happened to us, does it?' 'She won't worry because she knows you're with her precious nephew.' 'She will if Lloyd shows up without me.' 'Lloyd might not show up until morning if something has happened that would discredit him in her eyes.' The silence was more prolonged. Dimly she noticed that the road ahead was Already drying up in the hot sun and birds were flying about joyously. A cow mooed in a nearby meadow and Greer swallowed in an attempt to dislodge the lump in her throat which threatened to choke her. It was no use—you just couldn't win a round against Mike the odds were all in his favour. If she refused to tell him what had happened he would find out somehow. 'If I tell you what happened will you promise not to tell Mrs Boncelli?' she asked warily. 'I promise nothing.' Greer attempted to keep her emotions in check, but in spite of her efforts her voice, pitched on a low key, trembled a little. 'I'll not have you upsetting Mrs Boncelli. She's been so happy since she came to the island. I won't have anyone spoil it for her. It was my

own fault that I came out with Lloyd and you can hardly blame him for making the most of his opportunities. He did nothing really wrong. It was ... it could have been me expecting him to after what you told me about him.' 'Go on.' He flung his cigarette away and turned towards here, his arm along the back of the seat. 'I want it from the beginning.' She refused to meet his gaze and looked down on her knee. 'We did some shopping in the villages we passed and were picnicking by the lake when the storm clouds came over.' 'Which lake?' 'A small one surrounded by logwood trees.' He nodded. 'I know it.' 'Well, like I said, we were returning along the mountain road when the boulder got in the way and we backed the car on to a lesser used road. Then Lloyd suggested us calling at a hotel he knew for a drink until the storm had passed over. It went on for a long time after we reached the hotel, but Lloyd said, if the worst came to the worse, we could always stay the night.' She felt him stiffen beside her and she went on, losing the tremor in her voice. 'When I returned to the bar after having a wash, I learned from the barman that Lloyd had ordered dinner. It was then I became awfully afraid that Lloyd would insist on our staying the night.' 'So you hopped it in the car and landed here.' He drew an audible breath. 'The rat I I'll break his neck I' Greer blanched, laying a small hand on his arm. 'Please, don't do anything. He'll be going back tomorrow and he might not come again while I'm here. If he does I promise not to go out with him alone.'

'You don't understand,' he said roughly. 'You're not the first woman Blair has taken to a hotel on the island. What was the name of it?' She frowned in an effort to remember. 'It was raining so hard when we arrived that I didn't notice. I remember seeing a name on the register, It wasn't anywhere about when we arrived, but when I returned after having a wash it was the first thing I saw on the bar. I don't recall the name, though.' Greer looked at him with enlightenment dawning in her eyes. The register had not been there when they arrived, but the fact that it was on the bar when she returned could only mean one thing. Lloyd had signed it for a room or rooms to stay the night. That was why the barman had warned her and she had not even thanked him. If the knowledge shook her, she was quite unprepared for the violence in Mike who was obviously reaching the same conclusion. 'If you're willing to allow him to get away with it, I'm not. Ill have him barred from the island.' She stared aghast, said in a choked whisper, 'You can't do that. Mrs Boncelli will be heartbroken. It would be a slur on the family name. After all, he is her nephew.' Her hand tightened on his arm unconsciously. 'Please. I'll be gone soon, then you can talk to him. Let him see that his behaviour could have repercussions on his aunt.' There was no softening in his face and she redoubled her efforts. 'You said that you didn't want to lose John Boncelli because he's doing valuable work on the island. Can't you see? If you upset Mrs Boncelli they'll both leave.' Gradually she felt the anger in him subsiding as reason took its place. 'Very well. We'll leave things as they are for the moment, but I haven't finished with it by any means.' He consulted his watch. 'I've several people coming to dinner this evening, so you can dine with us. I'll take you home afterwards.' He started the car. 'I'll have

one of my men wash down this car and send it to Myra in the morning.' 'But I've no evening dress with me, and I can hardly come in this crumpled suit,' she cried in dismay. He looked down with appraisal at her slim figure and smiled at the sudden pink in her cheeks. 'If that's what you call a crumpled look them I'm all for it. There's no need to worry. It's purely informal. Just a few people who are doing jobs for me.'

CHAPTER EIGHT DINNER parties on the island, Greer discovered, had a delightful informal air characteristic of the place. Fenton Manor, although in an elevated position, was not above the poorer dwellings in spirit. They were bound together by the land with the unbreakable bonds of tropical growth. Greer loved the islanders, loved their spontaneous smile which, coming from the heart, radiated warmth like the sun. She had the feeling of being accepted by them from the day she had arrived and had no qualms at meeting Mike's guests at dinner that evening. She found herself sitting between an intelligent-looking man with ginger hair receding from a high forehead who was an architect and a sylph-like beautiful woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. Greer judged Sybil Mere to be at the top of her profession as an interior decorator. During the meal she congratulated her on her work on the Boncelli house, adding how thrilled Mrs Boncelli was with it. 'I'm so pleased she likes it,' Sybil Mere said. 'You must be the young person who came over with her from London. I'm awfully sorry that I couldn't attend her house-warming party, but I was in Paris and only returned yesterday to find her invitation among my correspondence. I've sent a letter of apology. Are you staying on the island long?' Greer told her that she was staying until the end of the month. They talked and she recalled John Boncelli's description of the woman beside her. 'Striking,' he had said, but she was much more than that. She absolutely scintillated in a backless dress of pink and silver lurex topped by three rows of river pearls. Her thick blonde hair was coiffured high above a softly rounded facer and deep-set grey eyes.

Mike had introduced her as Mrs Mere, but Greer noticed that she wore no ring. Greer imagined that she must have been good at her job to have reached the top of her profession so swiftly. Greer admired her adventurous spirit, for she was adventurous too, though not careerwise. She much preferred a home and children to being a career woman. What few she had met had repelled her by their hard veneer and self-confidence. Always impeccably groomed, they gave the impression of having stepped out of the glass case displaying their wares and were about as unyielding. Sybil Mere was no exception. One felt that her smile was a practised part of her sales ability and that, somewhere along the line, she had lost the quality of being softly feminine. Mike, looking his usual charming self in a smart lounge suit in pale beige, was conversing with the architect on her right. From their conversation, she gathered that Mike was having a house built somewhere on the island. Greer wondered if it was for his own use or if he was contemplating marriage. Seeing that her stay was now only confined to a few short weeks, she would probably never know. All the same it awakened that old feeling of loneliness inside her. The dinner, as usual, was excellent. But Greer wasn't hungry. Sybil Mere lingered long enough to take a little of each course, evidently with her weight in mind, and kept up a small flow of conversation. 'Your name, Greer, is one of my favourites. Were you named after someone in your family?' she asked. Greer shook her head. 'Not that I know of,' she answered politely. Sybil smiled. 'I'm in favour of everyone choosing their own names when they're old enough to do so. So often you find people with

totally unsuitable names. I'm not alluding to yours, of course. It suits you and is delightful.' Greer wondered if she had changed hers. It suited her. Although it was none of her business she found it strange that she should think so. It was much later when Mike ran her home in Myra's car despite her protests. 'I can go myself. I prefer it that way,' she said. Mike paused with his thumb on the starter. 'So that you can cover up for Lloyd?' 'In a way,' she admitted reluctantly. 1 can find my way once I'm on the main road through the island. Besides, the rain has dried up beautifully.' She gave him a pleading glance. 'It's awfully nice of you to ask me to dinner and I'm more than grateful for your help, but I want to go on my own. Don't you see? It's all experience for me. After all, I shall be in more tight corners during my travels, The fact that I run away from Lloyd doesn't mean that I can't face up to things. I could have handled him had he got out of hand. I'd have had to.' She looked down at her hands tightly clasped, in her lap. 'It was only the thought that Lloyd, knowing I wasn't that kind of a woman, might have filled himself up with whisky to give him courage that made me run away.' She finished on a husky note without raising her head. In the intimacy of the car she was aware of Mike's particular masculine fragrance, tobacco mingling with the refreshing aroma of shaving cream and was annoyed at her own palpitating response. If only he would speak! He didn't. He calmly set the car in motion and swung it away along the drive. She gave a tight-lipped look at his firm, determined jaw as he looked ahead and wondered in despair why

she had to come up against such a man, on the first lap of her travels too. 'It's no use working yourself up,' he said, at last his deep voice vibrating on the soft evening air. 'I don't happen to care for the thought of a woman driving home alone late at night.' 'Sybil Mere is driving herself home,' she pointed out tersely. 'Mrs Mere happens to be familiar with the island roads. She also has a fast car and is much older than you.' 'In short, she's able to take care of herself and I'm not,' she shot at him indignantly. 'Go on. Why don't you say it.' 'All right She is. It's all there in those pretty grey eyes of hers, whereas yours...' 'And what's wrong with mine?' she cut in, swallowing on the heat in her throat while giving him the benefit of a wide green stare. His smile infuriated her. They have the liquid softness of a doe rabbit and are about as defenceless.' He lifted a lean brown hand is she threatened to explode. 'Now, now, let me finish. It's a charming quality that men find particularly refreshing in a stale world. It could have been the means of awakening the fox in Blair. The girls on the islands have the congenital technique of flaunting their charms at a very early age. You don't even seem to be aware that you have any.' 'Thanks!' she choked. 'Don't thank me,' he said airily. 'I only want to help you to gain a little more experience of men before you leave the island. I shall be glad to help you at any time. Always give men like Blair a wide berth. It's sensible in the long run for a babe like you.'

'Thanks again!' Her eyes flashed scorn and resentment. Tt must be real cosy to lean back against the warm bosom of a happy family and hand out advice. You've no idea what it's like to be on your own with no family on which to lavish your affections. My foster-parents were wonderful to me, but I shared their love with a dozen other children. I don't need your advice or your help. I'm used to being on my own. What's more, I love people. That's why I'm looking forward to going out into the world and meeting them.' 'I'm sorry if I've sounded smug. I didn't mean to be.' He swung the car on to the coast road. 'You haven't enjoyed meeting me, have you?' She bit. her lip, taken unaware by his directness and half aware that they were fast approaching the Boncelli residence. 'I think it's far more important to discuss the way that you'll get back home, don't you?' He said brusquely, 'That's one way of answering my question.' He consulted his watch. 'One of my hired hands runs a taxi business on the side. He has a fare to drop off somewhere around here in the next half hour, so I shall start to stroll back until he picks me up on his way home.' They turned along the driveway to the house and Mike, stopping the car near the entrance, opened the door. 'Stay here,' he commanded, and Greer watched him with some surprise stride to the garage where John Boncelli kept his car and peer through the window. He was back in a trice. 'It's all right, they're home.' He let her out. 'I wasn't going to let you collide with Blair in an empty house after you running out on him. That is, if he's home, which I doubt. My guess is that he's filling himself up with liquor before he hires a taxi home to face Myra with an explanation of his conduct.' He looked

down at her and put out his hand. 'Where's your key? Ill see you to your door and then put the car away.' 'Thanks for the dinner and everything,' she said stiffly as he unlocked the door. He held it open until she was in the aperture, then, 'It's been a pleasure.' The faint smile was overlaid by a warning glint. 'Don't forget; Keep your distance with Blair in future and if he oversteps the mark again I'll knock the daylights out of him besides having him banned from the island. Good night.' Greer, shaken by the sudden sparks of anger in his eyes, gave a reply that was almost inaudible. She closed the door quietly and leaned against it in an effort to compose herself. The meetings with Mike were more like collisions taking something out of her that she felt she would never be able to put back. For the first time since she had come to the island, Greer wished that the time had come for her to leave. She. dosed her eyes and opened them again to find the hush about the house vaguely disquieting. The lounge was in darkness and there had been no sound of Beauty, who could hear an intruder a mile off. In the kitchen everything was put away neatly by Oliver who had obviously gone to his own quarters. The absence of Beauty and her lead could only mean that Mr and Mrs Boncelli had taken her out for her evening walk. That left Lloyd. She could hardly go and try his door. He might drag her in, she thought with an almost hysterical titter. Had he returned earlier, had words with Myra, then left? Greer began to have qualms. Had she been too ready to condemn Lloyd? The barman had said that he was not to be trusted. So had Mike. It was Mrs Boncelli that worried her. Greer had grown very fond of her and the last thing she would want would be to cause her distress in any way. Yet she appeared to be doing just that. Restlessly she moved from the hall to the lounge and

then back again. If only Lloyd would come while his aunt and uncle were out! She could tell him that she did not intend to tell Mrs Boncelli anything that had occurred on their picnic. It was then she heard the vehicle stop outside the house and recognized the ticking of a taxi. It could be Lloyd. She listened to the muffled sound of male voices and heard the taxi drive away, before she opened the door. It was Lloyd. He came in glowering a look of hate and frustration. 'Why the devil did you have to run away like that for, making me look all kinds of a fool?' Greer stood pale and contemptuous at his slurring tones. He had evidently been drowning his sorrows in drink all the evening. 1 would have been all kinds of a fool to stay, wouldn't I?' she replied coldly. 'And what do you mean by that remark?' The heavy lids had lifted for a second in surprise before the shutter came again over his face. 'It's no use, Lloyd, pretending that you don't know why I ran away,' wearily. 'I only wish I'd known what you had in mind when you suggested the picnic.' A sneer did nothing to improve his expression. 'Are you trying to make something of my taking you to the hotel and ordering dinner?' 'No, you were, but I'm not that kind of woman and you know it.' An unpleasant smile lifted one side of his face, now stained an ugly red. 'Do I? I've never met a woman yet who couldn't be won over by flattery and charm. It seems to me that you're playing hard to get.' Greer went white to the lips. 'You've insulted me enough for one day by placing me in the same category as the women you usually

pick up and expecting me to reciprocate in the same manner. As far as I'm concerned, Lloyd, there isn't even a vestige of friendship between us.' 'No? You're breaking my heart,' he jeered. 'I bet you've told Aunt Myra a fine tale.' 'I've told your aunt nothing and I don't intend to.' 'That's very magnanimous of you.' 'Don't kid yourself that it's for you. I'm too fond of your aunt to want to hurt her in any way. She would be very distressed to discover what a heel you are. She's sure to find out some day. Have you thought of that?' He gave her a look that made her long to slap his face. 'Why should you worry? Where's Aunt Myra now?' 'She's out with your uncle. I haven't seen her since we left for the picnic this afternoon.' Greer did not enlarge on this, hoping with all that was in her that he would go to his room sooner than let his aunt see him in his inebriated state. She saw his expression lighten and a strange gleam come into his eyes. 'So they're out. That puts you rather at my mercy, doesn't it?' He made to move forward, but Greer stood her ground. She was too contemptuous of him to be afraid. Two-thirds of her mind knew that it was sheer bluff on his part He would never dare to touch her in his aunt's house. He had too much to lose. Whether or not he would have done she never knew, because at that moment Beauty came bounding in between them from the swing door of the kitchen. That meant that Mr and Mrs Boncelli were not far behind.

Lloyd watched the dog jumping up at Greer in the excitement of seeing her before he turned on his heel. 'I'm going to bed,' he flung over his shoulder. 'I shall be leaving in the morning and it can't be too soon.' That goes for me too, Greer thought, relieved. She had to smile. Lloyd had no idea that his aunt and uncle had been out with the dog. He took it for granted that Greer had returned home early in the evening to find them out and that Beauty had come bounding from the kitchen on hearing voices. Right now he could be congratulating himself on sliding out of a sticky situation so easily. Well, let him! If he had any sense he would see that he mended his ways before his aunt found out about him. Greer deliberately stayed in her room the following morning until she heard Lloyd taking the taxi to the boat. She found Mrs Boncelli on the patio. 'Good morning, dear,' she said. 'You've missed Lloyd. He was in a hurry to be gone. Said he had a bad head. Perhaps it was something he ate at dinner last evening.' She looked up as Oliver appeared with fresh coffee. 'Thanks, Oliver. You can bring Greer's breakfast now.' She poured a cup of coffee and looked questioningly at Greer. 'No, thanks. I'll have my fruit juice.' Myra dropped two lumps of sugar in her coffee. It's fine having people to stay, isn't it? It's when they go back that everything falls so flat.' She sipped her coffee thoughtfully, then frowned slightly as if remembering something. 'It couldn't have been anything Lloyd ate at dinner last evening that upset him because you're all right. He acted rather strangely as if he was glad to be off, come to think of it. When I asked him which hotel you had stayed at for dinner he said he couldn't remember.'

Greer, who had taken a seat opposite Myra, felt her colour rise and was more than grateful to see Oliver with her breakfast. She thanked him warmly with a smile and managed to say quite casually, 'I'm afraid I can't help you there cither. It was raining so hard we just shot into the place and that was that. Lloyd is probably fed up with going back to the daily grind. That reminds me, I bought you and Mr Boncelli a present yesterday. Shan't be a minute.' She flitted to her room and was back with her presents. As she had hoped Mrs Boncelli forgot all about Lloyd and was very pleased with the pretty pink and white coral table decorations. 'Thanks very much,' she said, admiring them. 'It's amazing what they can do with bits of coral, isn't it?' She looked much brighter when she opened the other small parcel. 'A pipe for John. It's most unusual and beautifully made. He'll be thrilled with it. You really are sweet to think of us, but you'll need your money, you know.' She bustled away with her presents and Greer had finished her breakfast when she returned. 'It's a heavenly morning,' she beamed, looking out on the sun-drenched garden. 'What about us doing a bit of shopping? I want some wool from Lita's mother's shop in the town. I'm going to take up knitting and crocheting again. It will be good for my fingers to keep them exercised. We could call on Janet Ford on the way back. It will be a welcome break from the heat.' So they set out for the town where they did their shopping, calling at the little wool shop. Lita's mother was tiny and also coffee-coloured like her daughter, but with a more pronounced slant to her eyes giving the impression that there was a strain of Chinese in her blood. She was very polite and helpful and said how happy her daughter was to be working for Doctor Bon- celli. Mrs Boncelli bought wool for two pullovers for her husband and coloured and natural wool for sweaters with three dozen ounces of fine white nylon silk. Later they both enjoyed their visit to the Fords. Janet Ford in green trews and white top greeted them warmly and they had coffee in the

sun lounge with a wonderful view of the mountains from the picture window. She apologized for her husband George not being there, but he was out on the estate busy supervising the collection of limes, coconuts, and doing the many tasks a large plantation entailed. She said she helped when she could, but the arrival of visitors was always a welcome break. She was finding it lonely with her three boys away at school. Cheerfully, she gave them news of neighbours already known to them and mentioned Mike. TMike is having a house built on that lovely green plateau overlooking Deep Bay. George reckons it's an ideal spot for a house because the mountains shield it from the hurricanes. It's about time he was married. Mike's a good man going to waste.' 'Who's the lucky girl?' Myra leaned forward eagerly, narrowly missed upsetting her coffee. Janet's pale grey eyes twinkled. 'No one knows for sure. Rumour has it that it could be one of the nurses at the Cottage Hospital where his sister works on research.' 'Has Mike a sister?' Greer asked curiously. Janet nodded. 'Several. This one is exceptionally clever. She's worked with your husband, Mrs Boncelli, on different experiments, one to do with arthritis, I think.' Myra nearly choked on her coffee. 'Now isn't that just like John? He's never said a word about it,' she said indignantly. 'What's she like? Tell me about her. If I ask John he'll probably describe her in one word.' Janet chuckled. 'Sometimes one word can describe the whole works more explosively. Let me see,' she paused thoughtfully. 'She's in her twenties, her hair is dark, like Mike's, and she's fairly tall. I think she favours her mother in looks, though, pretty, clean-cut features

and nice blue eyes. When she's home she entertains the hospital staff quite often, hence the rumour that Mike could be marrying one of them. There are quite a few attractive English nurses and Scotch too.' 'His sister is away?' This from Myra. 'She's away with the rest of the family on the world tour.' They had hardly digested this piece of news when Janet added a bit more. 'I've heard that Mike has a pretty Scotch nurse at Fenton Manor looking after Mrs Sam. She could be the future Mrs Mike.' When Greer had heard Mike discussing plans for a house the previous evening, she had dismissed the pangs of loneliness welling up inside her impatiently. Now that it was a fact that someone was dreaming of becoming his wife she realized with a jolt in the region of the heart that she had been more attracted to him than she had dared to admit. She recalled his contemptuous remarks on her inability to travel abroad and keep herself out of trouble, his quips about her inability to cope with a love affair. She had been hurt because it had been Mike who had said them. From now on she would not be so vulnerable where he was concerned and look forward to her own future in which he had no place. It was in this beatific frame of mind that she sailed through the next two days, finding them unusually tranquil without his disturbing presence. The Turner twins called for her on the second day to play tennis and go bathing with a group of young people. She returned hi the evening to find Mrs Boncelli looking worried. 'It's Beauty,' she said. 'She's been missing all day.' 'I'll look for her,' Greer volunteered.

Myra looked glum. 'Both Oliver and I have searched for hours, but there's no sign of her anywhere. I do hope nothing has happened to her.' She glanced at her watch. 'You haven't much time. John will be in to dinner soon. Don't go far and miss yours, will you, dear?' But Greer forgot dinner as she searched an ever-widening area with no sign of the dog. Mike had hinted that she might revert to her former wanderings; once a gypsy always a gypsy. That was why he had offered the collie pup. But she couldn't believe that of Beauty. Her search brought her to the spot where Mike had picked her up shivering with fright from the side of the road. Leaving the car, she stood for a few irresolute moments before plunging into the wood bordering the road. From time to time she called her name and whistled, with no result. The undergrowth was thick and close and once or twice she almost stumbled over thick rope-like roots. Fear for Beauty's safety lured her on until the goose-step she was forced to adopt to clear the treacherous undergrowth started up an ache in her calf and thigh muscles. It was with reluctance that she retraced her steps, seeing the sensible view. Far better to reach the car before darkness set in and continue the search in daylight. There was no point in staggering around in the dark anyway. At first she thought that the whimper coming through to her thinly belonged to the noises of the forest. Then she paused in the breathless hush before darkness fell and heard it again. This time she knew it was the cry of an animal in distress. Recklessly she plunged on and called the dog's name. She was rewarded with a squeaky howl. When she found Beauty she was held fast in an undergrowth of vines. It seemed to Greer that in her struggles to free herself the dog had become more entangled. It was only a few minutes' work to free her and laughingly avoid the excited licks from the pink tongue. Greer could never understand how it happened. She was straightening up from a stooping position when her left foot slipped on a stone and an excruciating pain shot through

her ankle. It was so severe that it set her down suddenly on the ground. Gingerly, she began to massage it, but the pain only increased into a swelling around the ankle bone. Of all the rotten luck! She must have ricked it. Greer looked up at Beauty who was watching her with her head on one side. 'It's all your fault, you nit,' Greer exclaimed, rubbing the dog's head playfully. 'What did you run away for?' But Beauty, failing to understand, sat down to join in the game if there was to be one, her eyes twinkling endearingly. Greer gave a rueful smile at the car visible between the trees. If only she could reach it! Gently she rose to her right foot and tried out her left to find that it was sheer agony to put it down on the ground. When she dropped down again on the ground the sweat was rolling off her. There was nothing for it but to wait for help and hope it came before darkness fell like a shutter. It didn't, of course. The blackness lay all around like a power cut. Beauty had settled down at her side and was asleep. Greer passed the rime half dozing in uneasy slumber to jerk awake occasionally into a vague awareness of the world around her. It was the sound of a twig crackling like a pistol shot on the still night air that finally shook her awake. Beauty was growling and Greer began to tremble. The grass was wet with dew and the night air struck between her shoulder-blades through the thin covering of her beach dress. In her eagerness to find the dog she had rushed away without a coat. The torch-like beam piercing the gloom was accompanied by a voice calling her name. 'Here!' she answered with Beauty barking frantically.

The light came nearer and Mike was there bending over her. 'Are you hurt?' His hand gripped her shoulder, his voice was slightly guttural, not a bit like his usual tones. 'My ankle. I ricked it,' she said, still trembling; Setting the torch on end against her leg to send up a beam of light, he shed his jacket and put her arms into the sleeves. Buttoning it up, he sat down beside her, drew a flask of brandy from his hip pocket, unscrewed the cap and held it to her lips. 'Sip it to warm you up. That damned dog! I don't know why you wanted to keep it. The collie pup would have been better. I could have found this one a home on a plantation where it could have still roamed about.' Greer took a sip of the brandy. It burned her throat and made her cough but it was like liquid fire running through her. Mike had slipped an arm around her and it was utter bliss after the nightmare of the last few hours to feel safe and warm again. He re-screwed the cap on the flask with his arms forming a circle around her. 'We've been having nightmares imagining you clinging to the face of some ravine or struggling in a swamp,' he said, returning the flask to his hip pocket. 'Better now?' Greer was slightly bemused. The jacket, warm from his body, was already helping the brandy to start up the heating apparatus inside her. 'Yes, thanks,' she said huskily, then sneezed violently. He was on his feet at once thrusting the torch into her hands and scooping her up in his arms to stride surefooted through the grass to his car. She closed her eyes, glad that he was looking ahead in the line of light from the torch she was carrying. For some reason she could not have met his eyes in those blissful moments of being held against his firm, broad

chest. She was lowered gently into the back of his car, her foot lifted on the seat and Beauty put in beside her. Mike slid behind the wheel. 'I'm going to give three blasts on the car horn to let John and the others who are searching for you know that you've been found,' he warned without turning his head. Greer covered Beauty's ears with her hands fondly. The result was a small, 'Wuff!' from Beauty when Mike sounded the horn. Mike started the car. 'I'll send one of the men with Myra's car in the morning,' he said. He sounded fed up and she wondered if he had been having dinner with the nurse when John had called him. 'I hope I haven't dragged you from your dinner,' she said thinly. 'I had dinner hours ago. I believe you've missed yours.' 'It doesn't matter. I'm not hungry.' 'There's cigarettes in the right-hand pocket of my jacket if you feel the need for one.' Greer didn't. She did not feel the need for anything. There had been little friendliness in his casual reference to the cigarettes. Had he sounded more congenial she would have suggested him having one himself, but she wasn't going to risk a snub. 'Did ... did Mrs Boncelli ask you to come in search of me?' she managed at last, looking at his white uncompromising back. He was sure to feel the cold night air after giving her his jacket. 'No, John did. They were worried when you didn't turn up for dinner. It's a good thing he did, because naturally I made for the spot where we found the dog. He could have been searching all night.'

Greer looked through the car window. From the dimly lit interior, the outside world was a black impenetrable curtain. Suddenly it was flooded with light when headlights shone through the rear window. Mike shifted in his seat and gave a swift glance around. 'That'll be John,' he said with some satisfaction. 'He must have heard my signal.' He put on speed and they reached the house well ahead of the following car. Mike swept Greer up into his arms to find Mrs Boncelli hovering anxiously at the door. Thank goodness you've found her!' she breathed, following them into the lounge where Mike put Greer gently down on the long chesterfield. 'What happened?' 'She's ricked her ankle,' he replied before Greer could speak. 'John will be here at any moment. He can look at it.' Beauty had followed them in rather sheepishly as if the results of her conduct were beginning to penetrate her doggy brain. Myra saw her and beamed at her delightedly. 'Oh, you've found her! I'm so glad.' She bent down to fondle the dog, then turned to watch Mike unbuttoning his jacket from around Greer. 'I'm sorry about your ankle, dear.' Myra took in the cloud of hair around her companion's flushed face as, Mike sloughed into his jacket. The girl had a haunted look that touched her profoundly. 'You've not been scolding her, have you, Mike?' she said on a jocular note. Mike's smile was one sided and almost unpleasant. 'Waste of time,' he said laconically. 'All young things act the same in moments of emotional stress. They dive into the melee regardless of the consequences.' John entered and Mike appeared to relax. 'Hello, John. She seems to have ricked her ankle, otherwise she's all in one piece.'

Myra's husband came forward and favoured Greer with a warm smile. 'So you found her. Where was she?' 'Round about where we picked up the dog in the first place. I had a hunch she might be there.' Mike's glance at Greer was goodhumouredly arrogant. 'Sure you don't want me to take the dog and bring you the collie pup?' John looked at his wife as his fingers explored Greer's ankle. 'Well, Myra? If Beauty's going to keep straying off...' But his wife shook her head. 'No, we'll keep her. She'll settle down in time. I'm sure of it.' 'As you wish, my dear. I think we've grown a little too fond of her to want to part with her now, Mike. Thanks all the same,' John answered, and gave his attention to Greer, asking her to wiggle her toes. When she did so easily, he smiled. 'Nothing much wrong there apart from a bad sprain. I'll get a dressing for it' He straightened towards Mike, who stood watching silently. 'A drink, Mike. I think you've earned one.' But Mike was already half-turning to go. 'No, thanks. Ill be getting back.' While John went to fetch a dressing for her ankle, Myra strolled with Mike to the door. 'I hear you've installed a nurse for Mrs Sam. How is she?' Greer heard her say. 'Not too well. She's having bad heads. The doctor cm October Island who treated her when she was first taken ill wants her to go back for tests if she doesn't improve. I think she's as well going into the hospital here with John to keep an eye on her if the bad heads continue.'

Myra's reply was lost in the distance between them and presently Greer heard the car shoot away. In her bed that night her thoughts shied away from the last dramatic hours. For to Greer they were dramatic in a shattering kind of way. Her meetings with Mike were •an assault course on her defences. He was undermining all her plans and when they finally disintegrated he would leave her to fit the pieces together again as best she could. It was coming to the point where she began to wonder if she would be able to stick out the next few weeks. It was rotten luck about the ankle. Yet in a way it could prove a mixed blessing. She would be laid up for a few days with no Mike on her horizon, thank heaven.

CHAPTER NINE PHYSICAL accidents of any kind are to be deplored, yet they give one time for sober thought and the opportunity to look around and see things in their true perspective. So thought Greer, who spent the next two days on a lounger on the patio outside her room resting her ankle. John and Myra came to sit with her at intervals trying to persuade her to join them if only for meals, but Greer was adamant. She was quite content to have her meals on the patio with the bright little yellow birds perching cheekily on her breakfast tray for company. Also, she told Myra, her absence would give her a little privacy with her husband for a change instead of having a third person always around. Meals punctuated her day into intervals which she found were surprisingly short. Dreamily, she looked at orchids clinging round exotic trees and listened to the chattering of the monkeys, some of whom would be peeping at her with their bright little eyes as she lay relaxed in a sunny island paradise. The sea, an incredible turquoise blue, shimmered in the golden haze and the loveliness caught at her throat. She would see other places as beautiful on her future travels, but none would have the appeal of Manna Island. Her attachment for it had gradually seeped into her bones with the result that she would leave part of herself behind when she finally said goodbye. The swelling on her ankle had gone down considerably when John attended to it on the first morning after her accident and it was less painful. At eleven Lita, John's receptionist, brought in her morning coffee and stayed for a chat before going home after morning surgery. Greer thoroughly enjoyed the next half hour talking to her. They discovered a mutual love of music and drama and laughingly compared notes on American, English and French artists.

When Oliver brought her lunch he enquired politely about her ankle and told her that his parents were getting married at the little church in the mountains in a week's time. With an amused grin at Greer's expression of astonishment, he explained that his parents had been blessed with ten children but had not been able to afford to get married until now. He said that it was the usual procedure of the poorer class to save up while living together to get married, Mr and Mrs Boncelli had been invited and he hoped that she would go too. Greer said she would be delighted. Myra had tea with her in the afternoon and brought with her a delightful basket of island fruits decorated with a huge bow of mauve satin ribbon. 'From Mike,' she said with a playful bow. 'His boy gave the message that he hoped your ankle would be better for Saturday.' Greer blinked at the beautifully arranged fruit in a mound of greenery and asked, 'Why Saturday?' Myra raised a neat dark brow. 'Don't you remember? Mike invited us on his yacht for the weekend.' Greer did, uneasily swallowing on her dismay at the thought of being cooped up on Mike's yacht with the chance of bumping into him around every corner. Not if she could help it, she told herself grimly. Fortunately, Myra gave her time to conjure up a plausible excuse by chatting on. 'I clean forgot to tell Lloyd about it Actually I had intended to tell him on the morning that he went back, but he wasn't in a very receptive frame of mind, if you remember. If he comes this weekend, he can join us.' She tilted her head sideways to look at her companion's small, tight expression. 'What's the matter, dear? Don't you want to go?'

Greer moistened dry lips. 'Would you mind awfully if I didn't?' she said diffidently. Myra was concerned 'Not feeling ill, are you?' Greer almost floundered. 'No. The fact is I was looking forward to spending Saturday on the beach. My ankle should be all right by then and swimming will strengthen it.' She knew it sounded a lame excuse, but if Myra thought so she gave no sign. Smiling indulgently, she leaned forward to pat her hand reassuringly. 'Very well, if that's what you want. I'd stay with you, but John is looking forward to going. He happens to be free from duty this weekend and is welcoming the change of scenery.' When they were leaving on Saturday morning, John made a last attempt to persuade Greer to go with them. 'Sure you won't change your mind? The trip round the islands is very enjoyable.' Greer shook her head. 'Let her stay if she wants to.' Myra kissed her at the door. 'Take care of yourself, dear. I've given Oliver strict orders to look after you— and don't overdo the swimming!' The house was quiet when Greer walked the few yards to the beach clad in a swim-suit. Her ankle wasn't too bad. The warm sea soothed the twinges in it pleasantly as she cleaved through the sparkling surface. As John said, it would have been nice on the yacht, she mused, floating on her back and looking up at the blue sky. There were trips around the island though and she had promised herself to go before she left, but not with Mike. Life was less complicated without him around. It was sheer heaven to stretch out on her beach towel and dry off and she closed her eyes blissfully. Back home Eve, her flatmate,

would be busy preparing for her wedding at the end of the year. Greer planned on being back long enough to be her bridesmaid before going with an office colleague to Majorca. In the meantime, she was becoming delightfully tanned and was tickled pink at the thought of Eve's envy when she made a suntanned return home. So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she felt the intruder before she saw him with a sense of shock. 'Good morning,' Mike drawled sarcastically. 'How's the ankle?' The dark grey eyes narrowed over her slim, golden legs. 'Which one was it?' With a quickened heartbeat, Greer knew that he had phrased the question deliberately to point out the fact that her injured ankle was as sound as her uninjured one. He stood over her tall, lean and tantalizing, giving her the irritating conviction that he enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable. She sat up, hugging her knees. It was less embarrassing than lying full length beneath his mocking regard. In those few short moments she had taken in his whole disturbing appearance. He was wearing nautical outfit in navy and white. He looked splendidly fit and well able to cope with the job in hand which, at the moment, probably meant tearing her flimsy excuse for not accepting his invitation to shreds. 'Still a little weak,' she answered, quickly on the defensive. 'That's the excuse Myra gave me for your not coming on the weekend cruise.' His height and width of shoulder filled her horizon, his face set in a bronze mould in which only his grey eyes seemed to be cruelly alive. There followed a silence that she felt she had to break or scream. 'Thanks for the basket of fruit,' she said inanely. 'It's very kind of you.'

He swept her thanks aside in an exasperated and urgent manner. 'I saw Blair at the docks just now. Not waiting for him to join you by any chance, are you?' The barbed remark hit her swift as an arrow between her shoulderblades. Looking no higher than his cleft chin, she said, 'If Lloyd has arrived he'll be on the yacht with the Boncellis by now.' 'He evidently knows nothing about it, because he was waiting for a taxi. Myra and John had already gone to the yacht when the boat bringing Blair arrived.' Her green eyes shot up to meet his fearlessly. Then surely you could have told him where they were instead of allowing him to come here.' He pushed his hands flat-wise into the pockets of his navy jacket leaving the thumbs exposed. 'I wasn't sure what his plans or yours were. It wasn't likely that I should embarrass the man by suggesting that he join his aunt on the yacht if he had made other arrangements.' Angry and incredulous, she stared into his lean, inscrutable face. 'Now you're being insulting,' she said tighdy. 'You know my feelings regarding Lloyd Blair. If I never see him again it'll be too soon.' 'Do I?' he said, unconvinced. 'Your plea for me not to tell Myra of his indiscretion could have meant that you still had a soft spot for him.' 'Well, it didn't. I was thinking only of Mrs Boncelli. I know you're convinced she'll hear about Lloyd sooner or later, but by then she would have setded in more and it wouldn't mean so much to her.

She's so much better here and so happy that I don't want anything to spoil it for her.' 'Right!' he said. 'Prove your words by throwing a few things into a bag and joining us on the yacht.' 'Why should I?' she said indignantly. 'And why should you be so concerned? It's none of your business.' 'I've already told you that I'm making it my business. Maybe Blair isn't coming here. He may have other fish to fry. That doesn't stop me thinking that he might come. It occurred to me when I saw him leaving the boat that you could have made a deeper impression on him than you realize. He'd hardly come back again this weekend and risk a snub if he didn't think a bit about you.' 'That's ridiculous,' she flared. 'I left Lloyd in no doubt of my feelings regarding him before he left last weekend.' She gave him a venomous look. 'If he is coming here, all you have to do is to invite him to your yacht and leave me alone.' His eyes narrowed. 'Suppose I do that and Blair, when he arrives, refuses my invitation and decides to stay here with you. What then?' She shrugged resignedly. 'Then I'll come with you to the yacht.' 'You'll come now.' He looked at his watch. 'My guess is that Blair will be here within the next five minutes if he's coming. You'd better pack a bag and quick. If we can avoid him, all the better where I'm concerned. My feet ache to kick him off the island for good. Come on. Get cracking.' He reached out to help her up and Greer reluctantly put her small hands into his. With the ricked ankle still fresh in her .mind she naturally put all her weight on her sound one. The result was that she lost her balance and swung against him. His arms shot around her to hold her close. 'All right?' he asked, looking down at her without a vestige of a smile.

The brief contact of her cheek against his chest brought her heart up oddly in her throat. She released herself with as much dignity as she could muster and her, 'Yes, thanks,' escaped from pale lips. Bending down swiftly to hide her embarrassment, she swept up her beach towel, magazines and little extras she had brought to spend the morning in blissful solitude. Greer walked beside him, shaken into silence by the few shattering moments she had spent against his broad chest. The faint aroma, a hint of tobacco mingled with the tang of the sea, still lingered in her small nostrils. She hadn't stopped shaking when she entered her room, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with anger against Mike. She had put all she needed into the smallest of her three cases when it occurred to her that he had saved her from a second embarrassing incident with Lloyd, when Mike had told her about seeing Lloyd at the docks she surmised that he had come to the island for some other purpose than visiting his aunt. He could have come to see his girlfriend, Gemma, or to spend the weekend at the Deep Sea diving club. Either reason was feasible. A knock on her door broke on her thoughts. It was Oliver, his chocolate brown face curiously immobile. 'Anything wrong, Miz Greer?' he asked politely. She managed a smile. 'No, Oliver, but I've changed my mind about going to join Mr and Mrs Boncelli for the weekend on the yacht. I hope it won't put you out with expecting me to stay home.' 'That's all right, Miz Greer. Miz Boncelli was real disappointed that you not go. Anything I can do?'-Oliver asked in his soft island drawl. Greer nodded and shut her case. 'Yes. Will you take this to Mr Fenton's car, please.' When he had gone, she had a quick shower to wash the sea water from her skin and put on the nautical outfit she had worn on the ship

coming over. Her hair she left loose with a white band around it to combat the sea breezes, and with the lightest touch of make-up, she was ready. She found Oliver lingering in the hall. 'I've put your case in the car, Miz Greer. Mas' Blair is there too.' So he had turned up after all! Greer's spirits dropped, but she gave Oliver a warm smile. 'Thanks, Oliver. Look after Beauty for us, won't you?' With Oliver's assurances ringing in her ears, she went out to see Mike talking to Lloyd who was seated in the back of the car. Mike turned on her the look of a man who could do someone an injury. Silently, he put her in the front seat and slid behind the wheel. In her seat, Greer half turned and greeted Lloyd coolly. 'This is a surprise. I hardly expected to see you this weekend.' Lloyd moved uncomfortably in his seat. 'I made up my mind to come at the last moment. Mike's been telling me you hurt your ankle searching for the dog. I hope it's better.' 'Much better, thanks,' she replied before lapsing into silence for the rest of the drive to the docks. Mike was taciturn and neither she nor Lloyd were in the mood for spontaneous conversation. Mike's yacht, a white, graceful modern vessel, was anchored in the bay. Mike took over from the man waiting in the launch and sent him ashore to drive his car home. Greer and her case were placed on one side of the launch and Lloyd sat on the other. Mike occupied the helmsman's seat at the controls, gripped the two small levers and the engines clicked into gear. Gently he nosed her out of the harbour towards the yacht with a muted roar.

Myra and John were delighted to see them and Greer felt, with some misgiving, that they thought Lloyd had something to do with her changing her mind about going with them for the wrong reason. There were a dozen guests including several young people from the diving club at Deep Bay. Sybil Mere, looking very alluring, in a matching shirt and trouser set in blade and white print with yellow stripes, drifted by accompanied by a Swiss industrialist who Mike introduced as Thor Henie. Rather tall, he was a grey-haired middleaged man with a good, smooth, unlined complexion and intelligent eyes, and he was obviously interested in the fair Sybil. Fishermen waved as they sailed that afternoon between islands where mountains rose sheer against the blue sky and houses nestled on shelves of rock amid lush greenery. In the evening, they anchored off one of them and went ashore to dinner and a cabaret at one of the better class hotels. Mike had booked three tables seating four people. Greer found herself sitting with the Boncellis and Lloyd. The dinner and cabaret were excellent and it was a merry crowd which eventually went back to the yacht. Most of them retired almost immediately, including the Boncellis. But Greer lingered on deck to drink in the pure mountain air. She enjoyed the trip and was not sorry she had come. Lloyd had behaved impeccably. He had no option with other people around including his aunt. Greer bad given a small sigh of relief when she had seen him making for his cabin with the Boncellis, otherwise she would not have lingered on deck. So it was with real dismay that she suddenly found him at her elbow. 1 thought you'd gone to bed,' she-said uneasily. His face was dark and flushed and she remembered detachedly that he had helped himself to more than his share of wine at dinner. He

stared at her for several seconds, his jaw working oddly. 'I've been trying to speak to you since I arrived but couldn't get you alone. I want to apologize for what happened last weekend. I'm very sorry I scared you.' Without being aware of it, Greer had been prepared for something like this, so she said quickly, 'I don't wish to discuss it. As far as I'm concerned, it's over, so please forget it. I'll be gone soon, anyway.' Lloyd caught her arm and turned her to face him. When he spoke his voice was low but firm. 'I can't forget it. I've fallen in love with you.' She was dumbfounded, but she would not have been human had she not been touched by his declaration even though it awoke no response. A woman of more experience would have had an answer ready, but before she could attempt one a deep voice cut in curdy. 'Too bad the lady is already spoken for,' drawled Mike. Greer turned to see his white dinner jacket in a blur of conflicting emotions. Beside his broad military bearing, Lloyd looked strangely immature and utterly confounded, 'I don't believe it,' he said, looking from one to the other with hard eyes. 'Then perhaps I'd better demonstrate my ownership of the lady, hadn't I?' Mike's voice was mocking, but his eyes glittered strangely when he moved towards Greer with one intention. Lloyd did not wait, however. He spun round on his heel and went Still not believing that she had heard aright, Greer found her voice. Mike was hardly an arm's breadth away and she looked him squarely in the face, suddenly emotionally numb.

'Surely it wasn't necessary to go to such lengths to scare him off. The poor man must have been awfully embarrassed to know that you heard what he said to me.' 'So it's poor man now, is it? Last weekend he was a bounder you fled from.' His voice changed from light mockery to anger, an anger that rasped in his throat as he glowered down at her. 'I still can't make up my mind about you. You jump into a car to drive through a storm on a strange island to get away from the man, yet you wander alone on deck here knowing that it's more than likely that the same man might show up and catch you here alone.' She was about to tell him that she had seen Lloyd going to his cabin earlier. Then pride intervened. Why should she explain to him? It was none of his business. His interference was becoming intolerable. 'I wish you'd mind your own business,' she said at last. 'What happens on this yacht is my business. A proposed night in a hotel bedroom could be put right by a proposal of marriage, couldn't it?' Her anger blazed to equal his. 'Why, you insinuating beast!' The contact of her hand against his face sounded like the crack of a whip on the still night air; Her wrist was seized and held in a vice, her anger quelled by the lynx-eyed fury in his. 'You've never come up against men who would stop at nothing to get a pretty woman in their arms, have you? Pity in a way that you escaped Blair so lightly. The experience might have done you good. No doubt you'll meet it on your next assignment abroad. Here's a sample.' He released her wrist to haul her into his arms. His kisses were a chastisement and an insult. He held her in a way that she could not

even begin to struggle, and when he sought her mouth, she tried to move her head. But it was no use. At last he lifted his head, leaving her spent and gasping. 'If that's taught you anything you'll let everyone believe we're practically engaged for the rest of the time you'll be here. It's the only way you'll be safe from your own foolishness!' He released her and she stared at him ashen-faced. Mockery made his smile a one-sided effort and there was a degree of satisfaction glittering in his eyes. She left him silently with a tremulous look of hate and, reaching her cabin, she entered to lean back against the closed door. Her face, neck and lips burned from his savage kisses and there was a taste of blood in her mouth where her teeth had caught the softer flesh inside her lips. She was still trembling when she sat down on her bed. How she hated him! He had done his best to spoil her trip abroad from the moment he had looked her over so impersonally at the top of the gangway of the Shalotte at their first meeting. Tonight he had succeeded. In her mortification, Greer took off a shoe and flung it across the cabin. Then she lay on the bed and let the tears come.

CHAPTER TEN GREER floated up gently from an untroubled sleep and opened her eyes to a world that wasn't static. Blinking sleepily at the high ceiling where the water reflected in ripples, she remembered that she was oh Mike's yacht. Her cabin was roomy and well ventilated with pastel shaded walls rising from deep pile carpet. The bathroom was also luxurious with fitted wash basin supplying hot and cold water and a shower. Comfortable though it was, she knew that it had been a mistake to come. Yet there had been no choice. Lloyd's declaration of his love for her the previous evening proved that he would have stayed home with her had he the choice. She sighed. Talk about relaxing! She seemed to be spending her time on the island drifting from one problem to another with Mike at the end of each answer. A glance at her watch told her that it was seven o'clock and plenty of time for a glorious pre-breakfast swim. Slipping on her swim-suit and cap, she went to the deck to lean over the stout, teak-topped guard rail and gaze down on John, who was scaling the ladder after his swim. 'Good morning, Greer,' he said, smiling up into her face as he came up expertly. 'The water's fine.' She thought how fresh and relaxed he was when he joined her on the deck. 'You look as though you've enjoyed it,' she said lightly. He appraised her golden slimness in the white swim-suit and charming pastel-shaded flowered bathing cap. 'I have. Pity Myra couldn't join us, but I guess clambering up that ladder would have presented a problem with her hands. She's lying in.' He gave her shoulder a fatherly pat. 'Enjoy it. See you at breakfast.' He made for

his cabin, calling over his shoulder as he went, 'Mike's out there somewhere.' Greer was tempted to call out, 'So what?' quite rudely and, with her whole being resenting even the mention of his name, she dived in the water. She cleaved blissfully through the early morning coolness of rippling waves and noticed that there were several dark heads bobbing about at various distances. The thought that one of them might be Mike's made her decide to head for the island. It was only a good swim away through a lagoon where one could see the miracle of plant life right down to the sea bed. Beneath the waves rainbow-hued anemones opened and closed their petals coquettishly against the small beautifully coloured fish swimming around lazily in the manner of an underwater ballet. Greer had almost reached the island when she saw Mike. He was sitting on a shelf of rock above the water watching her progress and she had to bear it knowing that it was too late for her to turn back. In any case she wasn't sure that she could make it. The distance from the yacht to the shore had appeared deceptively shorter than it actually was and she was already feeling tired. So much so that, to her chagrin, she had to make for where he sat because the distance was shorter than going on to the beach. He pulled her up beside him. 'Good morning,' he said pleasantly, mocking her with his lazy smile. 'I was wondering if you were going to make it to the beach.' Greer gulped in several breaths of air. She could have leaned back exhausted, but her pride would not let her. With anyone else she might have done, but not with Mike. 'The arrogant male as usual,' she answered after another satisfying breath. 'I suppose you've done this before.'

'Yes. This is the second time this morning. I swam out and back with John, then returned to savour the beauty of the morning. I didn't expect company.' His smile was slightly aloof, but it did not hide the fact that he was aware of her laboured breathing. 'Farther than you thought, isn't it?' She nodded and looked out to where the sleek white yacht lay anchored on the blue water. Was it fancy or did the distance seem considerably longer than it had appeared from the yacht to the shore? Mike was still talking and it annoyed her to think that he was giving her time to breathe normally again. 'What do you think of the yacht? Not bad, is she? I'll take you round her after breakfast.' He gave a significant pause and she braced herself for what was coming. 'I asked John this morning if he had any objection to my taking you out around the island during the rest of your stay. I know Myra won't mind.' She took him up quickly. 'But I do. It isn't necessary for you to become involved with me while I'm here.' He cut in roughly, 'You want Myra to keep her illusions regarding her nephew, don't you? Going around with me will simplify matters on that score. Lloyd will probably give the island a wide berth for a while until he's over his feelings for you. That way you can spend the rest of your stay here in peace.' Greer could have laughed at the irony of his words. She would find a tour of the island with him anything but peaceful. Her breathing had eased, but her heart was heavy. She was scarcely aware of the beauty of her surroundings. The vast expanse of sea and sky, the long- limbed palms decorating the white beach merely emphasized her loneliness.

This was Mike being his arrogant self, arranging her stay on the island as if he had a perfect right to do so. His behaviour was odd if the rumour was true that he was building the house for his future wife. She asked warily, 'What about the house you're having built?' He raised dark brows. 'What about it?' 'Rumour has it that you've already chosen a wife and that you're building it for her.' 'Rumour is right for once.' He slanted her a cool glance. 'What's it to you?' The lack of emotion in his cool tones infuriated her. 'What's it to me?' she echoed incredulously. 'If that's the case you can't expect to escort me about the island without its causing comment. It's hardly fair to your future wife either, especially if she's on the island.' 'She isn't at the moment, but she'll understand. She's that kind of person. My family will be back soon after you leave the island and things will sort themselves out then.' As simple as that! He was so sure of himself that it irritated. 'How nice to have everything planned out,' she said sweetly. 'Shall you tell her about the lesson you gave me last evening on men?' He leaned towards her, amused at the deep flush on her face at the memory of it and said softly, 'No. I shan't have time for that. I shall be too busy giving her a lesson on love.' Greer's fingers curled round the edge of the shelf of rock on which she sat. Even while he had suggested taking her around the island he was reminding her that her stay would be too brief and utterly without meaning for himself and the woman he was to marry. Knowing that she had been upset by his ruthless lovemaking the

previous evening, he was magnanimously offering to make recompense. Well, she wanted none of it! Suddenly she wanted to hurt him as she had been hurt. 'Love!' she cried scathingly. 'You cold-bloodedly choose a wife and talk about love?' Her angry eyes met a gaze that was purely enigmatic. 'Who says I cold-bloodedly chose a wife? When a man reaches my age before he considers marriage it means one of two things. Either he isn't interested or he's waiting for the one and only woman who can make life exciting enough for him to want to give up his bachelor state.' Her chest tightened and her eyes slid away from the lean face and mocking smile. What was the matter with her? Why should she feel like crying when she had discovered that from now on Mike ceased to be a menace to her freedom and future plans? He had offered to take her about with no strings attached and she would leave knowing practically everything there was to know about the island and a little more of men. A little more of men indeed I That was only the half of it. She dreaded to think what another fortnight of his company might do to her. With all her heart she wished there were some place well out of his reach where she could retreat until the time for her to return home. He was the first to break the silence with the provocative lift of his brows. 'Aren't you curious to know whether mine is to be a marriage of convenience or love?' 'No,' she answered tartly. 'You have the knack of turning everything to your advantage anyway.' A mirror from the yacht reflecting the sun sent a message to where they sat. Mike regarded her shrewdly. 'Are you rested to make it to the yacht for breakfast?'

'I made it here, didn't I?' she replied, and slipped into the water. He was beside her immediately, slowing his long crawl to keep level with her. Greer struck out more on anger than energy and they were less than a hundred yards from the yacht when her strength began to give out. What a ninny she was to burn herself out instead of taking it easily! As it was her legs felt leaden and every breath stabbed at her lungs. Mike was just ahead, but pride prevented her from seeking his aid. He must have been aware of her slowing up, for the next moment he was there treading water. 'I'm going to take you in whether you like it or not. No one on the yacht will see you. They'll all be having breakfast.' He turned her determinedly on her back, cupped her chin and moved easily with her to the yacht. At the ladder he half lifted her on to it, moving up behind her to swing on deck and lift her beside him. Then he was unbuttoning her bathing cap and taking it off to rake his fingers through her bright hair. 'Feeling better?' he asked gently, looking down at the pallor of her small face and the dear green of her eyes. Greer took the bathing cap with unsteady fingers. Blood drummed in her head and there was an upheaval inside her that was not altogether due to her struggle in the water. She had the feeling that her constant collisions with Mike were building up into a climax and she prayed silently that she would be away from the island before it happened. 'Yes, thanks,' she said, and allowed him to pilot her with a hand on her arm along the deserted deck and down to her cabin. She entered the dining room later to find that most of the guests had already breakfasted and gone on deck, possibly to watch the yacht

leave its moorings on the return journey to Manna Island. Mike, smart in white drill, his hair still damp from his bathe, drew out a chair for her opposite to him. She was being served with breakfast when Sybil Mere drifted in looking fresh and lovely in a primrose shirt of pure Liberty silk covered with exotic Oriental figures and scenes. White shorts revealed long golden legs and she accepted the chair Mike gave her beside him graciously. With amusement in her deep grey eyes she looked from Mike's tanned well-groomed appearance to Greer, young and sweet, in a cream linen dress with a sailor collar. 'I bet you two were out in the briny this morning while I was still in the land of dreams,' she said rather enviously. 'Don't you swim, Mrs Mere?' Greer asked politely, pleased that there was a third person to fill the gaps in the conversation between herself and Mike. Sybil's slender fingers with their absurdly long, beautifully, manicured nails closed around her glass of fruit juice. 'No, I don't. I'm the lazy type who prefers to sit around and watch others wearing themselves out in more athletic pursuits.' 'A role that you fill very decoratively,' Mike put in smoothly. 'Why, thanks. If it's anything I have a weakness for it's a compliment first thing in the morning to make one's day.' She smiled coquettishly at him over the rim of her glass. 'Getting down to business, can you give me any idea when your house will be finished for me to take over designing the interior?' Mike gave her a sideways smile. 'Not anything definite. Work has already started, but it's too soon to say. A lot depends on the supply of materials. Why do you ask? Changed your mind about doing it for me?'

Sybil gave a small, self-conscious laugh. 'No, nothing like that. Thor Henie has been telling me about a house he has had built in the Swiss Alps. It's ultra-modern and sounds most intriguing. It will be completed in about six weeks' time and he has invited me to the house-warming party. I thought I'd stay and have a look around while I'm there to pick up any ideas.' 'Certainly, if that's what you want,' Mike said agreeably, and they went on to talk about the pros and cons of houses perched on mountain plateaux. Greer listened wondering about the woman whom Mike was going to share his house with. It was difficult to imagine a person without the faintest idea of what she really looked like. Exciting, he had said. She had to be to make him give up his bachelor existence. Was she on holiday with his family? Greer thought that she must be, otherwise she would be on the island. Or she could be on one of the other islands. She still had not decided when Mike escorted her around the yacht after breakfast. Much of the interior, hull and decks was moulded fibre-glass, he said, and there was full standing headroom everywhere below decks. Large toughened glass, sliding opening windows with fitted curtains gave light to the rooms which were inlaid with deep pile carpet. 'And now,' Mike said, smiling down at her teasingly, 'the place every good little wife longs to explore—the kitchen.' He opened a door and Greer saw a luxury galley unit with built-in stainless steel sink with draining boards, bottle gas cooker and grill. It was comparable with any well designed kitchen in a luxury flat. There were deep drawers for cutlery, capacious cupboards and shelves fitted for provisions.

It's wonderful!' she breathed when he had pointed out that all working areas including those on deck had a non-slip pattern moulded into the glass fibre. 'Simply ideal for a honeymoon.' The moment she had said it she wished she could retract it. Her face flooded with colour at the sudden glint in his eyes. 'I see what you mean,' he said, with a lazy smile. 'Far away from the crowd where I could beat the little woman into submission if the need arose.' He laughed as her flush deepened. 'You really think I meant that, don't you?' 'As I shan't be the little woman it's immaterial to me what you do,' she retorted. 'Is it?' he asked, and he gazed so deeply into her eyes that she found it an effort to tear her gaze away. When they reached the deck eventually it was to find Lloyd, Sybil and Thor Henie playing deck quoits. Further along the young couples from the diving club were engrossed in an energetic game of deck tennis and Greer strolled on beside Mike to where the Boncellis were reclining on deck loungers. 'We were wondering where you two had disappeared to,' Myra said pleasantly, looking up from crocheting something white rolled in cellophane wrapping. 'Enjoy your swim, dear? she asked Greer, who took the lounger beside her. 'Yes, thanks,' she replied. 'If you really wanted to go for a swim this morning, Mrs Boncelli, I'm sure we could have helped you on the ladder.' 'Is that why you didn't go, Myra?' Mike asked mockingly, grinning down at her. 'I'm surprised at you. There's plenty of men around to give a hand.'

'The only hand I want is one of applause when I manage to do all the things I've planned since I came to the island,' she said gaily. 'I'm thrilled at the progress I'm making already. I'm even getting my old crocheting speed back.' Mike towered above them, brown face aglow, hands pushed into his pockets. 'What's that thing you're making?' he asked, eyeing with masculine vagueness the roll of white nylon in her lap. Myra appeared, reluctant to reveal what it was. Then she said, on a sigh, 'I wasn't going to say until I was sure that I could finish it on time. It's a wedding dress for Sapphire, Oliver's mother. She's being married next weekend twelve months sooner than she would have done if I hadn't offered to make her dress. I was shocked to know that she's had ten children without being married' Mike chuckled. 'Most of the islanders live like that. They like a real slap-up do at their wedding, so they wait until they can afford it before they're wed. Twelve months wouldn't have made much difference in their case after all these years.' They all laughed; Greer's was low and sweet. 'Extraordinary,' said Thor Henie, who had approached in shorts and open necked shirt to look down at Greer. 'Your laugh is amazingly like Mrs Mere's, Miss Smith.' 'You think so?' she exclaimed on a surprised note. 'A mere coincidence, old chap,' Mike cut in. 'They're two very seductive women, hence the similarity.' It was passed off in the conversation that followed, but Greer was to remember it later.

It was on the Monday following the weekend on the yacht that Greer learned a few surprising facts from Myra. A chastened Lloyd had left that morning early and they were spending the afternoon on the beach with Myra crocheting away as she talked. 'What do you think of Sybil Mere?' she asked conversationally. 'She's very attractive and awfully clever,' Greer replied rather inadequately. 'And that's about all,' Myra said a little waspishly for her. 'I thought there was something vaguely familiar about her picture in that magazine. I knew her years ago. She lived in the village where I grew up, only she wasn't Sybil Mere then, she was Elsie Mandley. Her father was the vicar of the parish church and anyone less like a vicar's daughter than Elsie was hard to imagine. She was a real good-time girl. 'At college, unknown to her parents, she spent weekends away with the son of one of the college dons and eventually had a baby by him. She didn't go back home to have the baby, she had it in London. It was a girl. Several years later she turned up, minus the baby, and married to Herbert Mere. The next we heard was that they had gone abroad and that Herbert had died. Elsie must have changed her name to Sybil and carried on with her husband's interior decorating business.' 'What happened to the baby?' Greer asked curiously. Myra shrugged. 'No one knows. Perhaps it died. On the other hand she could have had it adopted when she married and gone abroad to start afresh. Let me think,' Myra paused in her crocheting to make a hasty calculation with her head on one side. 'She'll be thirty-nine and she was eighteen when she had the baby. That's twenty- one years ago.'

Greer moistened dry lips. It was merely a coincidence that her age was also twenty-one. There was no connection whatever between herself and Sybil Mere. There must be hundreds of babies abandoned and also adopted in London every year. All the same she recalled Sybil's curiosity about her name and Thor Henie's remark that they laughed alike. It was all purely circumstantial, but she had to probe. 'What happened to the baby's father?-' 'He was a racing driver and was killed several years after marrying a childhood sweetheart. Amazing, isn't it?' Myra chatted on. 'I never thought I would have had a house decorated by Elsie Mandley.' She stopped to watch Greer lying on the beach beside her and idly sieving sand through her fingers. 'What's this Lloyd has been telling me about Mike warning him to keep away from you because you're his girl?' <

Oh, that!' Greer tried to make light of it. 'You know what Mike is. Because I came over with him on the ship he seems to think that he's responsible for me.' Myra sighed. 'Is that all? I was hoping you were getting together at last. At first I hoped it was you and Lloyd, but that was purely for Lloyd. You see, I know he isn't half good enough for you, but I was hoping you would make something of him. I suppose it was too much to hope for that he'd change his ways when he came abroad.' Greer sat up round-eyed. 'What do you mean, Mrs Boncelli?' 'Well, Lloyd has always been one for the ladies. There was a nasty scandal back home when he became involved with a married woman. It ended in divorce and that's why he came abroad.' 'He didn't marry the person involved, then?'

'No, I wish he had, because according to one or two stories I've heard about him since I came here, he's still on the same racket. Elsie ... I mean Sybil Mere told me about one of his girls, name of Gemma Royd, who's had the sense to get away. She left this weekend with her uncle to live in America.' 'Really?' Greer started to shake with laughter. It was a long time since she had met up with anything so funny. She went on convulsed while Myra looked on in amazement. At last the tears streaming from her eyes, she gasped, 'It's so funny ... You've known about Lloyd all along and I've been trying to keep it from you thinking that you didn't know a thing!' Myra was surprised. 'Have you, dear? That's very nice of you. Was Lloyd misbehaving on the yacht when Mike told him to leave you alone?' 'Not exactly,' Greer answered truthfully. 'He was telling me he was in love with me.' Myra's eyes shone delightedly. 'That's wonderful!' she cried, then stopped short at the look on Greer's face. You don't love him?' she queried more soberly. Greer shook her head. 'No, I've never been interested in Lloyd that way. I'm sorry.' 'Why should you be sorry? You're probably having a good miss. What about Mike?' 'Mike neither,' Greer said emphatically. 'Mike is getting married when his house is finished, although he did mention on the yacht yesterday about taking me around the island to show me everything before I go.' She smiled and hoped that she had made a success of it. 'For some reason he thinks I'm not safe on my own.'

'Well then, I should go with him,' Mrs Boncelli said complacently. 'I shall be hard at work on this wedding dress to finish it for next weekend> so you'll be quite free to go.' But Greer had no desire to, with Mike, and was quite happy when he did not show up all that day. On Tuesday morning she borrowed the car and set off with a picnic basket to explore the far side of the island. She drove until the heat inside the car became uncomfortable, then stopped in a cool glade for lunch. Later, rested and refreshed, she decided to drive on to the next inviting spot. She found it after an hour's driving, a lovely walk down a glorious sweep to the sea. Leaving the car well off the road, she stood to gaze down stone steps terminating in a sandy beach and turquoise water. Giant cedar, fig and palm trees gave shade and Greer tripped down them leisurely, pleased to discover that this side of the island was equally as beautiful as the other. She was half way down the steps when she glimpsed the charming house to her left half hidden by palm and cottonwood trees. It was fronted by an alfresco terrace in beautifully coloured stones and was decorated by gay outdoor furniture. She was passing it when a slim, blonde, golden figure in a brief swim-suit raised an arm in greeting. It was Sybil Mere. Greer returned her greeting. How stupid of her! She had forgotten that Sybil Mere lived on this side of the island. 'Hello there!' she called. 'How sweet of you to call!' Greer went forward lost in admiration for a woman who, bordering on forty, could still manage to look so much younger. 'I haven't actually called,' she said truthfully. 'I stopped for the lovely shady walk down to the sea and noticed your house in passing. It's very pretty and in an ideal spot.'

'It can also be very lonely.' Sybil indicated a white, round basket chair with orange cushions. 'Take a seat.' Greer obeyed and heard the tinkling of ice cubes in the glass of sparkling fruit juice that Sybil handed to her. 'Thanks,' she said, accepting it gratefully. 'It was hard luck losing your husband. How long has he been dead, Mrs Mere?' 'Eight years.' 'A long time for you to be on your own,' Greer sympathized. Sybil slowly swished the remainder of the drink in her tall glass round to absorb the ice cubes at the bottom. 'Yes, I've been on my own far too long. Thank goodness I'm thinking of marrying again soon.' 'I'm very pleased,' Greer said sincerely. 'I hope you'll be very happy.' 'I mean to be with no children to remind me of my age. You know what they say. Your parents spoil the first half of your life, your children the second.' She drained her glass. 'That's rather a sweeping statement. After all, a lot depends on what kind of parents you have. As for children spoiling your life, they keep you young in heart and are. the only sound basis for a happy marriage.' Greer infused a light note into a strained atmosphere. 'They might keep you looking young, but they give away your age by their years.' The older woman looked across at her bleakly. 'Don't you think so?' Greer shied away from the malevolent gaze. 'I've never thought about it.' 'No? How old would you say I was?'

'In your late twenties or thereabouts.' Greer moved uneasily. There was something about the woman's expression that was completely unnerving. Sybil Mere's mouth gave an ironic twist. 'You hafen't fooled me for a moment,' she said nastily. 'You came here deliberately today, didn't you? Myra Boncelli has been telling you things about me, hasn't she, and you've come to find out more.' 'That's not true!' Greer cried indignantly. 'I'd forgotten that you lived on this side of the island until I saw you just now.' She put down her glass. 'I think I'd better go.' 'What has Myra told you? That I had a baby before I was married? And my age? She's sure to have told you my age. She was always jealous of me. They all were because I could get any boy I wanted and they couldn't.' Greer sat transfixed. In spite of the heat of the sun a chill shot right down her spine. She felt suddenly sick. However could she have thought that this woman, with eyes glittering with hate, could possibly have been her mother? 'I don't know what's eating you, Mrs Mere, but whatever it is don't try to take it out of me. If you thought I came here to probe why call me in the first place instead of letting me walk on?' She rose to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. Sybil gave an unpleasant leer. 'Because I knew you would give yourself away,' 'That's better than someone else giving me away,' Greer said, white to the lips. 'Goodbye, Mrs Mere.' That should shake the woman if she had given her own child away, she fumed, mounting the steps back to the car so quickly that she arrived at the top gasping for breath. She sat for a while simmering in the car and gradually her anger died. Upset though she had been,

it occurred to her that Sybil Mere must have been more upset to know that John Boncelli's wife was part of her own past. Greer was tempted to go back and tell her that she had nothing to fear from Myra or herself. Mrs Boncelli was too nice a woman to spread malicious gossip and .Greer knew that she would not have told her if she had not trusted her to keep silent about it as she had every intention to. She started the car and for the first time in her life found herself coming to terms with her own adoption. Since she had been old enough to understand that she was a foundling she had unconsciously cast around for the identity of her parents. Suddenly she was resigned to it. Her foster-parents had assured her that she had been in perfect health and well cared for when she was found, a really beautiful baby. She would be grateful for that and go on from there. By the time she had reached the house she felt almost lighthearted, and even the sight of Mike's car in the drive made no difference to her mood. They were in the lounge when she popped her head around the door to let Myra know that she had returned. Mike was in a corner of the chesterfield, one long arm resting along the back. Myra sat facing him. 'Hello,' Greer said pleasantly. 'I'm warm and sticky and just longing for a shower.' 'Come and cool down first,' Mike drawled lazily. 'Washing your face when you're steaming will give you pimples.' 'I never have pimples,' she retorted, but she entered the room to perch on the arm of Mrs Boncelli's chair.

'Mike's been to take Mrs Sam to the hospital for tests,' Myra said, looking up smilingly. 'He called to take us back with him to show us over his estate, but you were out.' 'Oh I' said Greer, lamely, aware of his intent look and her own dishevelled appearance. She pushed her hair back with a nervous hand. 'How is Mrs Sam?' 'Not too bad apart from the confounded headaches,' he said shortly. 'Enjoy your picnic, dear?' Myra asked. 'Yes, thanks.' 'Where did you go?' This from Mike. Greer looked down at the tips of her dusty white shoes. 'Exploring the island,' she answered carefully. 'Find anything?' She laughed. 'You talk as though I'd been prospecting for gold or something!' 'I meant trouble. You have a nose for finding it,' he said with heavy sarcasm. He'd be chuffed if he knew how right he was, she thought. Aloud, she said, 'As you can see, I've arrived in one piece.' 'Pure luck,' he mocked, and addressed Mrs Boncelli. 'If this companion of yours ends her stay on the island with no scars to show for it I'll be very much surprised.' Greer was beginning to think so from the way her cool composure was already wilting beneath his critical regard. He was smiling at

Myra warmly as if they were two of a kind. Watching them, Greer wondered why he had never been like that with her. Then she chided herself for being so dumb. The answer was simple. He had about as much time for her as she had for him. 'You're teasing her,' Myra said. 'Greer's very sensible and can take care of herself if the need arises. Will you stay for dinner, Mike? John has no surgery tonight. It's his night off.' 'I don't see why not.' He raised a brow at Greer. Think you can stand me for that long?' She looked at Myra and they both laughed. 'I'll bear it,' she replied huskily. In her room she showered and put on a dress she had not worn before. It was an elegantly simple shirt style in glazed cotton printed with romantic scenes from an English country garden. With it she wore putty-coloured court shoes in crinkly patent. 'What a pretty dress!' Myra exclaimed when Greer joined her and Mike in the lounge. 'You have a charming taste in clothes and you always look lovely. It makes me wonder why some man hasn't snapped you up long ago.' 'Some man has,' Mike said laconically. Myra looked surprised. 'Not the one who sent you the bouquet on the ship? Alec Grant, wasn't it?' I thought you said you were only friends.' 'That's what they all say.' Mike's tones held a thread of irony as he turned to greet John as he entered the ' room. Greer was silent, piqued by his apparent lack of interest without knowing the cause.

The evening passed pleasantly with Mike relating one or two tales of the island. He was taking his leave when he said carelessly to Myra, 'What about you and Greer coming to our place tomorrow and I'll take you over- the estate. I could pick you both up after lunch and have you back for dinner.' 'Yes, why not?' John answered for her. 'I'm lecturing at the hospital tomorrow afternoon.' I'd love to, Mike, but I must finish Sapphire's dress for the weekend,' Myra answered regretfully. 'You can take Greer. I can see it some other time.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN GREER had no idea why she should dither on what to wear for her visit to Mike's estate that afternoon. But she did. It was after much thought that she donned a dress in ocean green relieved by dainty embroidery at the neck and down the front. With it she wore white sandals and picked up a white nylon scarf that would come in useful if it was breezy in the hills. Myra came to the door to see them go and, putting Greer in the front seat of the car, Mike moved quickly away. They met a few cars and an odd truck here and there as they climbed steadily upwards. On every level there was a breathtaking view, and as usual, Greer sat engrossed. The fact that Mike was travelling at speed lessened the need for conversation, but presently he moved in his seat to give her a comprehensive glance. 'You look as crisp as a lettuce and about as young and tender. Did that fellow Grant help you to choose your clothes for the trip?' Greer was startled. 'Good gracious, no! Whatever gave you that idea?' He shrugged. 'Just a thought. Missing the bright lights of London?' 'No. I'm a working girl.' 'That doesn't mean that you don't enjoy good times. Go dancing?' 'Yes, but not too often. Living among traffic fumes makes one look for fresh air in one's leisure.' 'Even so, a certain amount of entertainment is needed in between chores,' he said dryly. 'We have our quota here. For instance, there's a drive-in cinema in the hills.'

Greer sparkled. 'Really?' His mouth quirked at her obvious surprise. 'There are , also cocktail parties on schooners rigged up for the purpose. Done any skindiving?' 'No, but I'm willing to learn.' He smiled at. her. 'Determined not to miss a thing, aren't you?' 'Why not?' she chuckled, falling in with his mood. The mountain air must have been over strong, for it was making her feel strangely lightheaded and she definitely had to quell a queer desire to giggle. The road had writhed through romantic gorges to the majestic highlands of the Fenton Estate. Mike pointed out a forest of teak before driving on to plantations where the dark green of young trees popped up between the paler green of banana. Greer learned that although banana trees bear fruit in nine months, nutmegs take up to ten years to produce a crop. Several times during their tour, they left the car to stroll through huge sheds where the produce from the plantations was sorted and graded. Then on they went, climbing higher and higher to the rich pasture land to see pedigree cattle being sprayed for ticks and injected with serum against disease. Through the tour Mike had answered her questions quirking an amused eyebrow from time to time at her wide-eyed interest in everything she saw. Greer enjoyed it all immensely, but when he called a halt she was glad of the respite. The air might have been cooler up there in the mountains and was decidedly easier on the lungs, but the sun still blazed down and the car was like an oven.

Mike drove to the Manor and conducted her into the lofty cool interior. In -a room where French windows were flung wide to a panoramic view of mountains and the coast, they had tea. The house held an added fascination for Greer. It was like a bit of England way above the low-lying tropical growth of the rest of the island. The huge stone fireplace was filled with logs in case of chilly nights from mountain mist and the four-poster beds had blankets on them she discovered when Mike took her on a tour of the house later. She was thrilled to see pictures of his family, a sweet- faced woman with his eyes and a father who was an elderly replica of himself. There were three sisters, two very much alike in their teens with a couple of years between them and a younger brother with freckles and a grin. Greer had paused longest at the picture of Alma, the eldest sister, taken outside the hospital with a very pretty nurse. 'Alma's friend, Grace,' Mike said briefly. 'Is she at the hospital now?' Greer asked waiting with bated breath for his answer. Mike took his time about answering returning the picture to a small Sheraton table before he spoke. 'Not at the moment. She's on holiday. Alma has been pushing her into my arms literally for years. I've never known a sister so eager to see her brother married. She'll be thrilled to know I'm actually taking the plunge.' Greer's heart felt weighted down with a sickening pain. The realization that she loved Mike, loved him desperately, was almost unbelievable. But it was true, so true that she was filled with a gnawing jealousy of the nurse he had chosen to be his wife. She walked to the open French window in an effort to Control her

emotions. Thank goodness she had planned to travel. It was the only way she would get Manna Island out of her system and it would take the rest of her life to do so. For everywhere she went every tall, broad-shouldered man with an easy nonchalant walk would send her heart up in her throat in case it was Mike. She felt him behind her, his voice, deep and vibrant, playing on every nerve. 'What about a drive to the new house to see how it's progressing? Interested?' He glanced at his watch. 'We have time to go and be back for dinner. That is if you're not too tired.' She clenched her hands and drew a deep breath. 'No, thanks. I am a little tired. I'd like to go back now if you don't mind. Mrs Boncelli has been on her own all afternoon.' Courage had kept her voice low and steady. No one would have guessed that she had refused to go on an outing with the only man' who would ever mean anything in her life. But to gaze on the shell of a house that he would eventually share with another woman was too much for even her kind of courage. He gave a careless shrug as if it was immaterial to Mm whether she went or not. His indifference hurt terribly, but it helped to stiffen her defences. On the journey back Mike appeared not to notice her silence. He trotted out anecdotes of the islands, some amusing, some full of pathos which she absorbed in a blurred kind of way. He refused to go in when they reached the Boncelli residence and swept away with a lazy wave of a hand. Greer went indoors dreading the prospect of yet another week on the island before she departed. It made it no easier to know that Mike was almost certain to escort her around. She would have to bear it, of course, the bitter-sweet torture of having him near yet so far away

in his feelings towards her. The girl he was going to marry looked nice. Greer was thankful for that, for it meant that he would be happy, and she wanted that. She could not have been so resigned had he been marrying someone like Sybil Mere. Thursday morning's mail brought two letters for Greer. One was from Eve in her careless scrawl. 'You lucky so-and-so,' she wrote. 'The weather here at the moment is simply filthy with fogs, slush and icy winds, and there you are lapping it up in the sun. Remember what I said about Alec Grant being snapped up by one of the designing females at the office? Well, he hasn't been so far. He's been mooning round like a lost dog since you left. He's even dropped in at the flat for news of you. I received your postcard of the island. It looks gorgeous. Any men around to match the scenery, or aren't you telling? Anyway, darling, grab one while you have the chance. You're a fool if you don't.' Eve rambled on with news of her friends and Greer was smiling when she opened the second letter, which was from Alec. He thanked her for her postcard, then went on, 'I never thought I'd miss you so much. You've become more a part of me than I realized and I'm just counting the days until your return.' It occurred to Greer as she read his letter how little he meant to her. Since the incident of the bracelet, she had scarcely given him a thought. It was as though the loss of his gift had indeed severed any tie between them. Alec was not a very emotional man, but Greer sensed an underlying touch of it in the penned words and she was filled with dismay. It appeared that he was taking it for granted that they would both eventually drift into marriage together. Her heart tightened. Lots of people were like Alec, unimaginative and content to live on one plane without reaching up for the ultimate

heights of happiness which many people, like herself, knew existed. Greer wanted more than a casual drifting into marriage. She wanted a passionate, frightening, sweet and tender union that would last to eternity. One that would stir the man as deeply and emotionally as it would herself—stir her into giving her all so that she would never, like him, have anything to give to another. That everyone did not reach such emotional heights she was well aware, but every woman was capable, of it with the right man. She finished reading the letter and sat staring into space for a long time picturing herself after Eve's wedding going to Majorca and gradually drifting away from Alec. She could never marry him now, she was sure of that. Later, she might even begin to write her own experiences abroad, becoming one of those know-all, well- seasoned females who gave lectures and laughed heartily at their own jokes. Greer shivered at the thought of it, but managed to put on a pleasant front for Myra with whom she was having breakfast. 'Without being inquisitive,' she asked over her second cup of coffee, 'I notice that one of your letters has a masculine hand.' Greer had to smile. 'You're right. It's from Alec Grant,' she said. Mrs Boncelli had the grace to blush. 'Is it? I don't wish to pry, but I'm interested in your welfare and your happiness means a lot to me.' Greer was touched. 'That's very sweet of you, Mrs Boncelli, but Alec is nothing more than a friend.' 'So you aren't going to marry him?' 'No, of course not—and talking of weddings, what are you going to buy for Sapphire?' Greer asked, changing a subject that was beginning to be a strain to deal with.

Mrs Boncelli looked as though she would have liked to know more but she did not probe. As usual she had made a good breakfast and laid down her knife and fork on an empty plate. 'I thought a cheque would be very acceptable. As island people they aren't well off, and they can buy something that they need with it.' Greer thought it a splendid idea and they were discussing what to wear for the occasion when Mike strolled on to the patio. He was wearing a well-tailored tropical lounge suit and the charming smile came into play especially for Mrs Boncelli, so it seemed to Greer. 'You're early,' Myra said pleasantly. 'Coffee, Mike?' 'I don't mind.' He lowered his wide-shouldered frame in the chair beside her and looked across at Greer with a challenging air. 'Feel fit enough to go skin-diving?' She returned his intent look, reminding herself that it was futile to refuse to go with him. In any case she didn't want to refuse. She wanted to go and enjoy it, forget that he was about to marry someone else and take what the gods offered. She knew she would have to pay for it dearly trying to erase it from her memory afterwards, but she would think about that when the time came. She smiled at Mrs Boncelli, who said cheerfully, 'It's all right—you go and enjoy yourself, dear.' On the way to Deep Bay they passed a long green car and Mike lifted a hand to Sybil Mere, who returned his greeting, ignoring Greer's presence beside him. She was evidently on her way to the docks en route for Switzerland to attend the housewarming of Thor Henie, and Greer wondered if he was the man she was going to marry. Greer was relieved that she was leaving the island and to know that she would be gone herself by the time she returned. She had no wish to see her again.

The club-house at Deep Bay was a delightful building of coral stone. The rooms were air-conditioned and there was a delightful bar of bamboo. The clientele appeared to be select and between sports they relaxed beneath exotic trees in the lovely grounds with waiters wearing white shirts and black trousers moving discreetly among them. Everything from an aqualung to a pair of flippers was there for the members' use and a forty-odd-foot ketch was available for deep-sea fishing. With Mike, Greer dived into the clear depths of the sea where wonderful, fantastic coral shapes materialized among colourful animal and plant life which had to be seen to be believed. She was happier than she had ever been in those magical moments beneath the surface with Mike near to keep her clear of the knifesharp edge of the reef. They had lunch at the club-house and spent the afternoon water-skiing. With her skin tingling with health Greer relaxed on the white beach later with Mike beside her. She was wishing with all that she had that the day would never end, but already it was drawing to a close. 'You've taken to the island like a duck takes to water,' Mike's deep voice suddenly roused her. 'Pity you haven't much longer to stay.' Greer made no answer for several moments. His reference to her returning home was a sword thrust through the bubble of her happiness. Yet it had to come. Thank heaven she would be gone before his wedding. - She couldn't have endured that. It would be bad enough hearing from Mrs Boncelli about it without actually being there. 'It could be because I feel that the island had taken to me,' she managed at last.

'Not sorry you came?' 'No. I wouldn't have missed it for worlds. Meeting the Boncellis has been a wonderful experience.' 'What about me?' Mike had rolled over and was very near. She dared not look at him, but she could picture the sun picking out the strong contours of his intelligent features, highlighting the warm glints in the thick dark hair. Her breath caught alarmingly in her throat and she cast round desperately for the light reply. 'It's been an experience meeting you too and I'm awfully grateful for everything.' He said evenly, 'Still aching to move on and see the world? No hankering to stay on the island?' If there was something strange in the air Greer dismissed it with an attempt at flippancy. 'What could there be?' She turned valiantly to meet grey eyes narrowed in thought before he rolled again on to his back to push his hands behind his head. 'There's Myra. She'd give you the home you have never had.' Greer felt the familiar tremor of loneliness she had known throughout her life. In her innocence she had seen herself working her way happily around the world with the wistful hope that some day somewhere she would meet the man who would put an end to her loneliness. A man who would love her as she longed to be loved. A man like Mike. He was so strong and dependable with the gentleness that real men have with women. He had taken care of her as no one else had done, but she knew heartbreakingly that his chivalry had prompted his every action where she was concerned. She slanted a glance at the strong profile and knew that it was etched on her heart for the rest of her life.

'I'm going to travel, remember?' she said, with determined lightness. She closed her eyes, aware that her lashes were wet on her cheeks. Thank heaven he had moved back to his former position. She doubted if she could have kept the impersonal note much longer. She was shaking inside and her every nerve responded .to his nearness. Torture to be with him, but sweet compared to the torture of saying goodbye to him for ever. Her lip trembled treacherously. How to get through and still maintain the stiff upper lip? Searching round for something to cling to, Greer found only her pride. That would have to suffice. He must never find out that she loved him. Mike delivered her back at the Boncelli house around seven. He refused to go in because he was calling at the hospital to see Mrs Sam and with a brief salute he shot away. There were guests for dinner that evening, colleagues of John's from the hospital. Their presence kept Greer from dwelling on her problems and the evening passed uneventfully. Friday was spent on the beach with Myra triumphantly finishing Sapphire's wedding dress. It was tried on and Sapphire's black eyes filled with tears. Her gratitude knew no bounds as she gazed at herself in Myra's full- length mirror in her bedroom. Myra had bought a white satin foundation garment to hold in her round tummy and Sapphire drew her hands down almost revently over smooth hips. Her chocolate brown skin contrasted beautifully with the white crocheted lace of the dress with its heart-shaped neckline and small stand-up collar. She looked behind at the trail of lace and her eyes met Myra's beam. 'It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen, Miz Boncelli,' she said in her soft island drawl. 'Wait until Amos sees me in this. Good thing I can't have any more piccaninnies. I feel like a queen.'

'You look like one,' Greer said admiringly, and Myra .agreed; The wedding was to be at three in the afternoon, so they set off in good time, John in a pearl grey lounge suit, Myra in navy and pink, and Greer in eggshell blue with white accessories. The little church in the mountains was filled with flowers and most of the pews were occupied with relatives and friends of the bride and groom. The organ pealed out and Sapphire walked proudly down the aisle with Amos looking rather uncomfortable in his new suit and unaccustomed white gloves. The eight bridesmaids, composed of the couple's children and friends, were dressed in lemon tulle and came in various shapes and sizes. They wobbled, simpered and teetered down the aisle in their high-heeled white satin slippers and the ceremony began. The atmosphere was one of the Sunday School treat with everyone inclined to giggle on the slightest provocation, Yet the whole service was beautifully simple and so joyous that Greer could almost hear the angels joining in the final hymn. The sunlight had blazed through the stained glass windows shedding a radiance of light around the couple standing at the chancel steps. Then, instead of Sapphire and Amos, Greer was seeing the dark head of Mike standing beside his bride. She had gripped the edge of the pew and closed her eyes to shut out the picture from her tortured imagination. When she opened her eyes again the couple had walked to the altar. The church emptied to the triumphant music of the Wedding March. Everyone tumbled into cars and made their way down to the cafe in the village where the reception was to be held. The wedding feast was punctuated by pieces of wedding cake and speeches, after which they all trooped out on to the back lawns of the cafe.

Someone had provided a record player and the guests, young and old, spread out to join in the traditional dance. John, Myra and Greer left around seven. The dancing had grown gradually wilder as restraint was swept away and rum punch dictated the frenzied movements of the dancers. The celebrations were to go on until dawn and Greer wondered if Oliver would show up to cook breakfast the following morning. With this thought in mind she rose earlier than usual for her morning bathe and returned to the house to find that Oliver had arrived. On her way to her room she met John going for his bathe. Myra, he said, had a slight chill and a temperature, so he had persuaded her to stay in bed for the day. The day passed with Greer waiting on Myra with warm drinks and tablets prescribed by John and writing letters home. She sent word to Eve and Alec that she would be sailing home in a week's time. Stamping and sealing the letters, she had the feeling of setting the seal on her own fate. She could stay for a while; Myra would be delighted, but it would only prolong the agony, for she would certainly be in vital to Mike's wedding. The thought of it was unbearable. On Monday, Myra was much better for her day in bed and was up for breakfast with John and Greer. Around lunch time John came in to say that he was going to see John play polo that afternoon. He had no lectures at the hospital that day and what few calls he had on patients he could fit in before evening surgery. It promised to be a good game and he asked if they would like to accompany him. Myra was all for seeing the game, but Greer was torn between seeing Mike again and keeping out of his way for the rest of her

stay. Knowing by past experience that she could hardly avoid him, she went along with them. It was the first polo match she had seen and she was surprised at the thrills and action packed into the game. Her eyes were on Mike most of the time watching his supple, athletic figure as he swooped the ball away from his opponent to a successful goal. He was a fearless, reckJess player, but a clean one. He came over to them when 5 the game finished. They were having tea on the verandah of the pavilion and he placed his arms along the rail looking above to where they sat. He had removed the white cap which was part of his polo outfit. His teeth flashed, his eyes gleamed beneath the thick dark hair and his brown face shone with sweat. A bold reckless man oozing with vitality, courage and a gaiety that made the very air vibrate with his energy. 'Good game, Mike,' John said. 'Glad you won. You' deserved it.' Mike grinned, 'Thanks.' He looked at Myra. 'Enjoy the wedding?' 'Very much,' she replied. 'Tea, Mike?' He shook his head. 'No, thanks. Not before I've showered and changed.' Greer thought absurdly that it was an age since she had seen him. Yet this was only the third day. She had taken a peep at the lean dark face, then swiftly lowered her eyes when he looked her way. "What did Greer think about it?' She looked up swiftly then to see that there was nothing personal in the question, merely a mocking curiosity. She played it cool.

There's only one word to describe it. Delicious, with none of the humbug you meet back home.' He raised a dark brow. 'Is there humbug?' 'A little,' she admitted. 'The atmosphere in church back home is more restrained. There's none of the spontaneous joy that one finds in religion here.' 'I agree,' Myra said. 'Although the wedding feast seems to be most important here there is no hypocrisy. Everyone is natural and charming.' Mike gave Myra the smile he seemed to reserve for her. Then we must make arrangements for Greer to marry on the island when she's got her man.' Greer had no answer for that which was just as well for at that moment John glanced at his watch. 'I'll have to go on my rounds if I don't want to be late for surgery.' 'What about you all coming for. dinner tonight? The polo team are coming and you should enjoy it,' Mike said. Greer's heart plunged as John glanced swiftly at Myra. 'We'd love to, thanks, if Myra feels up to it. She's had a slight chill. What about it, dear?' 'I'll be all right. I want to meet some of those splendid horsemen,' Myra answered enthusiastically. Mike grinned. 'Several of them hail from London. One of them, Colonel Kenmore, was in the Guards.' Myra's eyes widened in surprise. 'You don't mean that soldierlylooking man with the small clipped moustache?'

Mike nodded. 'That's right.' 'Then I'm coming,' she stated forcefully. That evening John closed his surgery on time and they reached Fenton Manor ten minutes before dinner. There was the sound of stentorian laughter from the lounge as , Mike greeted them very masculine and brown in a lounge suit of dark grey with a white shirt. As Mike said there were several Londoners there with their wives who had come to settle in Manna Island. Myra was amused to find Colonel Kenmore on her right -hand with John on her left at dinner. Mike, from his place at the head of the table, gave her a mocking smile which he carried to Greer seated opposite to Myra and John at the table. She managed an answering smile before her attention was taken by her two neighbours. Both were young wives of members of the polo team. During the meal Greer determinedly had no conversation with Mike and refused to be drawn in when he addressed her table companion's. There, was no ignoring his presence even though she kept her gaze away from where he sat, his deep, quiet laughter as he bantered and teased the women, his easy comradeship with the men brought a riot of emotion into play. She exchanged pleasantries with the guests and gave the appearance of enjoying it, though whether she really did or not was hard to say. The atmosphere was as relaxed as it was at the usual island parties, but Greer had the feeling that the evening was dominated by the men. Myra was evidently enjoying herself. Greer was pleased to see that she was settling down so well on the island, although it brought a small stab of pain to know that she was carrying on quite well without her companion.

She would slip away at the end of the week and would soon be forgotten. Mike would be busy with his house and his forthcoming marriage to remember much of Greer Smith, whereas she would never forget him. The evening wore on with the guests trooping eventually into the lounge. There, to soft background music, Mike and his servant moved easily among them supplying cigars, cigarettes and drinks. Myra and John were in conversation with Colonel Kenmore and several others whose home was originally in London. Greer, sitting near to the open French window, had momentarily dropped out of the conversation and was gazing out into the warm scented dusk of a summer evening. 'Cigarette or a drink?' Mike asked softly at her elbow. Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up at rugged masculine features made attractive by their forcefulness of character and disturbing grey eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to find her voice. 'Nothing, thanks,' she replied on a husky note. 'Nothing?' he echoed mockingly. 'You're soon served.' He used the next few moments to study her now down- bent head. Then he said, 'Enjoy the match this afternoon?' 'Very much.' Mike leaned back against the window frame. 'What game does Grant play? Rugger?' The question was so unexpected that he was rewarded with a wide, green-eyed stare of amusement. 'Alec play rugger?' she chuckled. 'He's not the rugger kind of Englishman who stalks along with a gun beneath his arm and a dog at his heels in his leisure. Alec's scared of going on a plane. He likes to keep his two feet on the ground.'

He raised a brow in amazement 'And that kind of man appeals to you?' His incredulity stung her into defending Alec staunchly. 'He's a good sport really, but not the outdoor type. He is also quite charming and amusing.' They were talking under cover of the conversation going on in the room, yet it seemed to Greer that there was only Mike and herself there. 'I'm sure he is. He sounds as exciting as a rice pudding,' he murmured. 'You disappoint me. I should have said you needed a man more...' The pause was deliberate and his mouth tilted maliciously. 'Shall we say virile?' Greer flushed violently, conscious that she was becoming hypersensitive where he was concerned. It was her own fault for loving him so much. Strange that you could love a person deeply without them reciprocating in any way. They hadn't even the bonds of red friendship between them. 'Then you're wrong,' she said, giving the impression that Alec meant more to her than she admitted. Let him think so! It would help her to keep her dignity where loving him was concerned; This time his regard was narrow-eyed and lasting. She began to wilt beneath his scrutiny and words tumbled from her lips forming a question that normally she -would never have asked. 'The woman you're going to marry, what is she like?' He straightened suddenly and Greer felt a fierce burning ache behind her eyes when he smiled as at a cherished memory. 'She's my kind of person. I've known her long enough to have no doubts about that,' he drawled enigmatically.

The wavering smile was a herculean effort on Greer's part. 'How nice for you,' she said. 'Yes, isn't it? Excuse me, won't you?' He moved away to where his boy was beckoning. A bleakness of spirit took possession as she watched him bend his head with a pleasant smile to listen to the boy. From a long way off she heard Myra mention her name as she was drawn once again into the conversation. It was quite a feat to infuse life into her perfunctory smile and give the right answers.

CHAPTER TWELVE MUCH as Myra enjoyed the polo match and dinner the previous evening, she admitted to feeling like a lazy day at home on Tuesday. So Greer borrowed, the car to shop in town for presents to take home. She had finished her shopping and picked up a few things for Myra when she thought of Mrs Sam in hospital. Mike would be occupied with the estate during the day, so there would be no danger of her running into him if she called to see her. Bearing in mind that Mike would see that she was well supplied with all she needed, she paused to look at a very pretty bedjacket displayed in the window of the wool shop run by Lita's mother. 'Yes, it would definitely fit Mrs Samm,' Lita's mother assured her when she went into the shop to enquire about the size. So it was packed into an attractive box and armed with a bunch of flowers Greer called at the hospital. Mrs Sam was sitting up in bed when she was taken into her ward and she stayed with her until lunch time. The bed jacket with its layers of white lace finished off with pink satin ribbon was received with many thanks. The gift and the fact that they both shared the same bond of loving Mike might have accounted for the spontaneous conversation between them. Mrs Sam talked freely of her family and Greer told her all about Sapphire's wedding. No doubt she had already heard it from her relatives when they had called to see her, but she appeared to enjoy Greer's account of it. There was no mention of Mike or his forthcoming marriage, for which Greer was thankful. She was happy to know that the tests on Mrs Sam had so far proved to be negative and she was expecting to leave the hospital quite soon.

Greer spent the afternoon with Myra on the beach where Oliver served them with tea and they passed the time reading magazines until it was time for dinner. The day ended with the three of them strolling along the beach with Beauty. On these occasions, Greer went ahead with the dog, leaving the Boncellis to enjoy a quiet moment together. Myra went to the mineral baths on Wednesday so Greer decided to take a bus to the Fords to say goodbye. To Greer, the Fords, like the Boncellis, were the personification of married bliss. It was always a pleasure to pay Janet a visit. This morning the quiet aura of happiness that usually surrounded her had an exciting quality about it. She looked years younger in a blue gingham dress and small frilly apron and her pale grey eyes glowed. 'How lovely to see you. Do come in,' she cried warmly. She made coffee and set out pieces of shortcake on a pottery dish with a flowered border and fairly bubbled. Greer took a piece and waited for the news she could see Janet was fairly bursting to impart. 'I'm so pleased you've called,' she said at last after pouring herself a cup of coffee. 'You're the first to know apart from George. I'm going to have a baby.' Greer's eyes widened over her coffee cup. 'You are? How lovely! No use asking if you're pleased about it. You're absolutely sparkling.' Janet flushed and sipped her coffee. 'Does it show that much?' She gave a self-conscious laugh. 'I suppose people will say that we're mad to have a baby when our three sons are growing up, but I've always wanted a girl, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed. George

has always maintained that three children is enough for any woman to cope with. When the boys were small I thought so too, but secretly I often longed for a girl.' Greer looked at a face she had regarded as ordinary to see it suddenly transformed into beauty at the thought of having a baby. Fleetingly she thought of Sybil Mere who had no place in her small, selfish world for babies, and she could almost pity her. 'Is George pleased about it?' Janet beamed. 'He is now because he knows how happy I am. We're calling it Greer if it's a girl.' 'How nice of you,' Greer said on a lump in her throat. Janet's hand moved towards the coffee pot. 'More coffee?' Greer passed her cup and her companion sighed contentedly. 'We really ought to be drinking champagne, hadn't we? Actually it was my husband who suggested that we call the baby Greer, although the thought of it was in my mind too. George shares my admiration for you. We both think you're very sweet and unspoiled.' Greer swallowed the lump in her throat. 'Thank you. I've enjoyed knowing you both and shall be sorry to say goodbye. I leave on Saturday.' Janet looked blank. 'So soon?' They talked, and to Greer the house seemed furnished with the kind of happiness that anyone might envy and she stayed longer than she had intended. 'I must go,' she said at last. 'I planned to be back for lunch with Mrs Boncelli. I don't want to miss the bus.' But Janet would not hear of her going by bus. She insisted on taking her in the car in spite of Greer's protests that a bus was due.

They arrived at the Boncelli residence at the same time as Myra, looking fresh and sparkling from her visit to the mineral baths in town. Janet was pressed to stay for lunch and when she told Myra about the baby she was delighted. Greer could imagine her happily working away making baby things and she was pleased to know that she would be busy with something to occupy her time when she left on Saturday. Janet left around four and at six the Turner twins arrived in their small coup& They were on their way to a cocktail cruise on a schooner anchored in the bay and had called to collect Greer. The converted trading schooner, the Jolly Pirate, flew a flag of a skull and crossbones and was fitted out with every piratical device for tourists. A steel band dressed as pirates played for dancing and the whole atmosphere was one of gaiety and fun. The three girls never missed a dance, for there was quite a surfeit of young men, mostly Canadian and American tourists, and Greer enjoyed it all tremendously. It was late when they eventually returned to anchor to tumble into the small coupe for home. They were barely on their way to the Boncelli residence when the car engine stalled and suddenly spluttered into silence. After trying vainly to start it they all trooped out to peer beneath the bonnet with a torch. The headlights of the oncoming car picked out their slender young figures before dipping its lights to pull up a few yards ahead. Three pairs of eyes watched as a tall, wide-shouldered figure in evening dress emerged. Greer's heart lurched sickeningly inside her. 'Can I help?' Mike asked suavely. The Turner twins flung themselves upon him with a shriek. 'Mike!' they yelled delightedly. 'Are we glad to see you?'

'Then you must be in some kind of jam,' he said banteringly. His strong white teeth showed in a mischievous grin as he placed an arm carelessly around each. 'All nice little girls should be tucked up in bed by now.' He lifted his head and his keen eyes rested on Greer's slim white figure. His presence brought a glow to the dim road as he stood regarding her mockingly and she trembled. 'Good evening, Greer,' he said softly. Before she could answer the twins started to relate the events of the evening. Mike listened and tinkered beneath the bonnet of the car while one of the twins held the torch. In a matter of minutes the engine sprang into life and he wiped his hands on a duster from the coupe. 'Can you two sweet young things be trusted to drive home on your own if I take Greer?' he asked mockingly. 'Of course,' they cried indignantly. 'It isn't our first late night out by any means.' 'And I don't suppose it will be your last,' he said, opening the door of their car and dropping the duster in the compartment at the front. 'Come on. In you go!' They obeyed, but only, after pulling his head down and kissing him impishly on the cheek. "Bye, Greer,' they called. 'Sorry you're leaving. We'll be at the docks to see you off on Saturday morning!' The car shot away and Greer stood with her heart bearing a tattoo against her ribs. Silently they walked to his car and he opened the door for her to slip inside. The interior was much cooler and more spacious than the small coupe and Greer sank into her seat, aware that she was shaking. She was amazed at the depth of her own feelings for him as he slid in beside her and set the car moving. Her desire to see the world had gone as though it had never existed. All

that mattered was Mike, the serious and intent way he had of looking at her, the way his eyes sparkled devilishly when he was teasing and the touch of his firm lips that could snatch Jier from the prosaic earth to heaven. By the time he spoke she had managed to control herself. 'So you've been hitting the high spots,' he said. 'Enjoy it?' 'Yes, thanks.' 'Mrs Sam tells me you called and left her a present. That was kind of you.' 'Mrs Sam is charming. I'm pleased she's getting well again.' 'She likes you too. John is making another test, then she's coming home.' There was a short vibrant pause, then, 'Doing anything tomorrow evening?' Greer bit her lip. 'I don't know what Mrs Boncelli might have arranged,' she answered warily. He said curtly, 'Myra hasn't arranged anything. I've just come from there after taking them home from dinner at Colonel Kenmore's place. You were invited, but you'd gone out for the evening when I called to collect them. Myra thought you would enjoy the outing with young people more.' She flickered him a startled glance. 'You mean Mrs Boncelli knew about the Colonel's invitation when I went with the twins?' 'Yes, the Colonel asked them at Fenton Manor on Monday evening. Myra didn't tell you in case you might have wanted to go somewhere else. She wants you to enjoy your last week on the island in your own way.'

Greer wondered. Had Mrs Boncelli's fondness for her made her sensitive to her reactions when Mike was around? Had she guessed that her companion was hopelessly in love with him? If she had guessed wasn't it possible that Mike had guessed too? She cringed inwardly at the thought. If there was the remotest possibility of it then she must not see Mike again even if it meant being rude to him. His deep voice cut in on her thoughts. 'I'm giving a small party tomorrow evening for...' Desperately she cut in, 'I'm sorry, but I don't think I can manage it. It's Thursday tomorrow and I leave on Saturday morning. It doesn't give me much time to get everything packed.' 'In other words you don't want to come. You have all Friday to do your packing. Surely that's enough. Haven't got a date for tomorrow, have you?' Greer felt sick and unhappy. 'No,' she replied in a low voice. 'Then the packing is just an excuse, isn't it?' His deep tones were metallic, his manner as cool as the air on the mountains. If there had been the least sign of softening in his attitude she would have capitulated, for Mike, when he was charming, was irresistible. But his teeth were set rigid in the firm jaw. He looked relentless with the urge to hurt. She sat slackly in her seat with her heart pounding out waves of pain. Her lips formed words that did not reach her lips. His voice came bitingly after an interminable pause. 'If you don't want to come there's no more to be said.' His shrug of indifference hurt worse than a blow and Greer shrank back into her corner. At the door of the house he braked and she was out of the car in a trice.

With a brief, 'Good night,' she was slipping her key in the lock and letting herself in. His car had zoomed away before she remembered that she had not thanked him for the lift home. He wouldn't have much opinion of her. What did she care? But she did enormously. Next to his love she wanted his respect more than anything else in the world: She sought her room through a blur of tears.

The next morning Greer awoke with the feeling that the events of the previous evening were a dream. The only thing that was stark reality in her memory was Mike's cold indifference. It was like a knife twisting in her heart. 'What would you like to do today, dear?' Myra asked at breakfast. John had gone to his surgery and they were lingering over a last cup of coffee. 'I hadn't thought about it,' Greer replied. 'Is there anything you want me to do?' 'Nothing that I can think of. I had thought of going into town today for wool to knit a few baby things for Janet's baby. We could make a day of it, lunch in town and a cruise around the island. I haven't seen much of it yet and we could take our time and enjoy it.' 'Sounds nice,' Greer said. She welcomed the idea and had been dreading the thought of spending the day on her own. Anything was better than having time to think. Myra looked at her for a moment, then said curiously, 'You don't sound very enthusiastic. You're a little pale too beneath that lovely tan. Was it very late when you got in last night? I must have been asleep, because I never heard you. I don't remember hearing Beauty bark either. If she did?'

Greer smiled remembering Beauty's small 'oof. Strange that she knew who was entering the house and reacted accordingly. 'It was fairly late,' she replied. 'Mike brought me home.' She gave Myra a brief account of the previous evening. Myra chuckled. 'I'm pleased you enjoyed it. I think I ought to tell you that I saw the twins yesterday in town and they said that if all was well at the hotel they would be calling for you in the evening to take you along to the cocktail party. I didn't say anything to you when I returned home in case they couldn't make it. I was glad when they did because I knew you would enjoy it more than dining with Colonel Kenmore.' 'I did,' said Greer. 'When Mike turned up later to take us to the Colonel's he didn't seem to relish the idea of you going without a man in tow,' Myra smiled. 'So he brought you home. I suppose he told you we'd been invited to a small dinner party at Fenton Manor tonight.' 'Yes, he did, but I told him I should be too busy packing to accept.' Myra looked surprised. 'Don't you fancy going? We wouldn't be late home. The party is at half past seven on account of Mrs Sam. I believe she has her relatives to tea this afternoon and Mike doesn't want to keep her up late tonight in case it's too much for her.' 'Mrs Sam?' Greer exclaimed. Myra nodded. 'Yes, surely Mike has told you it's her birthday today. The party is being given fox her. There's to be about a dozen guests including ourselves, John won't be going, but hell call to collect us afterwards.'

Greer's hands cupped cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 'Oh dear!' she moaned. 'I had no idea the party was for Mrs Sam. I thought it was an ordinary dinner party and I told Mike I would be too busy packing to go.' Miserably Greer remembered Mike's coldness over her refusal. He probably thought she did not want to go because of Mrs Sam, that she was a snob over the fact that Mrs Sam was dark-skinned. Greer went cold inside . as she realized how easy it was for one's behaviour to be misconstrued. There was Mrs Sam too. She would be hurt to think that she had refused to go to her party. Myra's voice pierced her bemused thoughts. 'You can't hurt Mrs Sam by refusing to go.' 'No,' said Greer slowly, 'I can't hurt Mrs Sam.' They went into town where they had lunch before cruising around the island. It was another warm, beautiful day and they stopped on each rise to admire the view. It wasn't exactly a success as outings go. Myra seemed preoccupied with thoughts of losing her companion and Greer's gaiety was forced. They arrived back in plenty of time to dress for dinner that evening. Greer did a little more packing before she showered and dressed. Everything had been freshly laundered and packed away in layers of tissue apart from what she would need for the last few days on the island. When Mike appeared at seven he found both women ready and waiting. If he was surprised to see that Greer was going too he didn't show it. He looked down at her as she stood slim and sweet in the leaf-green dress, her hair in a neat fold at the back of her small head, her eyes very green, avoiding the cynicism in his.

Myra said, not looking her years in a gay flowered dress, 'Greer didn't know about Mrs Sam's birthday.' A gleam appeared in his grey eyes. 'Does that mean you're going to honour us with your presence?' His lip curled and the gleam in his eyes was hard, the dark face eagle-sharp above the white dinner jacket which he wore for what was to him a very special occasion. Greer became conscious of her own tenseness in contrast to Myra's easy friendliness and she relaxed. Foolishly she told herself that nothing Mike said or did could hurt her the same now that she was on her way out of his life. 'It does,' she said coolly. Myra linked her arm and she was grateful for the comforting warmth of her clasp. Mrs Sam was in the lounge when they arrived at Fenton Manor. Her grey-black hair had been coiffured back from the chocolate brown face and dark eyes. Her dress was pale grey with a brooch on one broad shoulder. She greeted them with a wide smile and the pleasant island drawl. Thank you for coming to my party, Miz Boncelli, and Miz Greer,' she said. Mike had paused at the door to greet more guests as cars drew up in quick succession. His present was by Mrs Sam's plate when she sat down and she opened it to see a gold wrist-watch which he proceeded to fasten on her plump arm. Other presents followed from the guests and Mrs Sam received them graciously. It was a pleasant party with Mrs Sam retiring early leaving Mike to entertain the guests which he did urbanely. When John came to collect his wife and Greer, Mike walked with them to the car. He strolled nonchalantly, his hands thrust into his pockets, beside Greer.

'We've enjoyed your party, Mike,' Myra said warmly. 'Thanks for asking us. Mrs Sam is a dear.' They had paused at the car where Myra looked up at him in her friendly fashion. 'We shall be giving a party for Greer tomorrow night. Can you and Mrs Sam manage it?' Greer looked at the arrogant profile, willing him to accept yet knowing the anguish she would have to hide beneath her smile if he did. 'I'm sorry, Myra,' he said. 'I'm afraid it won't be possible for me to come. I leave with the polo team tomorrow to play against October Island. As for Mrs Sam, I think she's better staying home after all the excitement of today.' Greer was shattered. All she could think was that she was looking on him for the last time and that this was goodbye for ever. For once Myra had no answer and it was left to John to fill in the breach. 'Wish I was coming with you, Mike. I bet it's a great game. I bet Greer does too.' Slowly Mike turned towards Greer as though John's reference to her had reminded him of her presence. But before he could speak, Myra found her voice. 'What a pity you can't come to join us. Never mind, I'm sure you wish her well.' Mike did not answer. He was looking down at Greer, who was having difficulty in breathing. How did one assume a lighthearted manner when one's heart was breaking with the agony of parting from a loved one for ever? Even pride did not help. Her love was too big for pride. She felt the tips of his fingers lifting her chin, but she could not meet his eyes. The prickle behind her eyes was too near to tears. As he bent his head she suppressed a tremble as she felt his lips, cool and firm, on her mouth. The pressure of his mouth, his nearness drained

all her reserves of courage. It was as much as she could do to stand and behave normally, instead of flinging her arms around his neck. He lifted his head and his voice sounded miles away. 'Sorry I can't be at your party,' he said, his face enigmatic. Thanks for coming tonight. You helped to make Mrs Sam very happy. Look after yourself!' Myra and John had taken their seats in the car and Greer slipped blindly into the back seat. 'Goodbye, Mike,' said Myra. 'Hope you win tomorrow.' Greer must have joined in with her 'Goodbye' without being aware of it. She tried to comfort herself with the thought that now she was severing all association with Mike the pain would, in time, become less acute. Yet she knew that had she the choice she would rather experience the agony of having him near knowing that he loved someone else than never seeing him again.

On Friday morning a message came through to the island that a hurricane was imminent in the next twenty- four hours. Myra was apprehensive, but John assured her that it could possibly by-pass them. It had happened before. Consequently there were no patients calling at his surgery that morning. Everyone played safe and stayed indoors. The day passed with them listening to the weather reports, but around three in the afternoon news came through that the hurricane was heading for Florida and the tension eased. Greer washed and ironed the last of her lingerie, preferring to do it herself instead of leaving it to Sapphire. The dinner party that

evening included neighbours and friends, the Turner twins and Janet and George Ford. It was quite a gay affair in spite of the shadow of a future parting. When the last of the guests departed the three of them took Beauty for her walk along the beach. The dog seemed to sense her forthcoming departure, for she had been with her most of the day and Greer went to her room feeling that only the shell of her former self would board the ship the next morning. Saturday began with the golden brilliance of another warm day. After her early morning swim, Greer made an effort to eat her last meal on the island. She drank her glass of tangerine juice, ate a slice of pawpaw sprinkled with lime and passed over the cream-thickened porridge to eat most of the home-cured ham and scrambled eggs. Beauty lay with a nose resting on her foot, a fact that Myra commented on. 'She's going to miss you. I hope she doesn't stray away again. Strange that she only strayed that once.' Oliver gave them the news that the ship had docked during the night and Greer went to her room to change for the journey home. She had decided to wear the powder-blue silk suit with white accessories she had worn at Sapphire's wedding. It added a gay note to a sad occasion. The rest of her things were finally packed, Oliver came to collect them and she followed him to the - lounge where Myra was sitting, near to tears. Impulsively Greer sat down beside her and stroked the partly bent arthritic fingers gently. 'Thank you for everything, Mrs Boncelli. You've been so kind to me.' Myra swallowed audibly. 'Would you mind if I didn't go with you to the ship? I'd hate to see you sail away.'

'Why, no,' Greer replied. 'As a matter of fact I was going to order a taxi.' 'Oh no!' Mrs Boncelli gave her a pained smile. 'John will take you. He had the day off. and is going to take me out when you've gone.' She sat up in surprise at the sound of a car outside. 'Whoever can that be? John's changing in his room. Perhaps it's someone called to say goodbye.' She peeped out across the patio of the lounge. 'It's Mike,' she said weakly. 'He's wearing a marvellous suit with a buttonhole. I bet he's meeting his bride off the ship.' He strode in, and a hurricane could not have shaken Greer more than his entrance. Her wide stare encountered a narrow, sardonic gaze as his wide-shouldered, tall figure in a perfectly tailored pale grey lounge suit towered above her suffocatingly. Her heart fluttered like an imprisoned bird as Mrs Boncelli greeted him warmly. 'Good morning, Mike. You're early. Called to speed our Greer on her way?' The charming smile appeared. 'Not exactly,' he drawled. 'I have to pick up something important from the ship and it occurred to me that I could take you all along with me.' John came in as Myra was explaining that she wasn't going with Greer to the ship but John was taking her. Her husband listened and did not persuade her to go. Instead, he suggested, as Mike was on his way to the ship he could take Greer along with him—that was, if she didn't mind. It all happened so suddenly that Greer and her cases were in Mike's car before she realized it and they were on their way after warm wishes for a pleasant journey from Myra and John. In her corner Greer was discovering that it was one thing to envisage a parting and another' to actually experience it. Her parting with Myra and

John had been disturbing, but to go through the agony of a parting with Mike after seeing him greet his future bride was something she could not imagine herself battling through unscathed. The journey to the ship was made in silence. On the dock he left the car with a command to her to sit tight until he returned. He was back in minutes, slipping something small into his pocket. She looked at him bleakly when he slid his long length in his seat beside her. Even if she had wanted to escape while he had been gone it would not have been possible with three cases. 'Where are we going?' she asked, her heart beating in thick strokes. The early morning sun sprayed his thick dark hair with auburn tints, but his lean tanned face was unreadable. He paused with his thumb on the starter. 'The ship doesn't sail until late afternoon. No use going back to upset Myra with another farewell. You have time to see a wedding.' She experienced a sense of shock so great that she almost cringed as from a blow. He was taking her to see his wedding! Oliver had said that the ship had docked during the night. Mike had met his bride and had already installed her at his home where she was now preparing for the ceremony. He had started the car and was now speeding along the mountain road leading to his home. Greer's defences collapsed like a pack of cards. Tears forced their way from her eyes and she furtively used a handkerchief. He slanted her a swift glance. 'Tears?' he mocked. 'Don't you want to see me happily married?' More than anything else in the world, she wanted to say. Instead she croaked, 'I always cry at weddings.'

'Well, don't overdo it, will you? If you arrive with reddened eyelids they'll think I've had to beat you into attending.' His brutal manner dried her tears as nothing else could have done. The brute! She was well rid of him. Dimly she was aware of him speaking again. 'You haven't asked if we won the polo match yesterday.' She sniffed. 'Did you?' 'No. We drew. You can't win all the time.' Greer couldn't have agreed more. She looked out of the car window to see that they had bypassed the road leading to Fenton Manor and were now climbing swiftly for the little church with its- rugged background of mountain peaks. The number of cars parked indicated that the church was full and numbly she allowed him to take her small lace-gloved hand to help her from the car. She was trembling uncontrollably when they reached the church porch to be greeted by subdued organ music. Inside in the shadows John was waiting with six small piccaninnies wearing frilly white nylon dresses with blue ribboned sashes. They wore white shoes and socks and looked up at her soulfully with their enormous beautiful black eyes, very conscious of the gold bangles on their round, dimpled arms. Mike's hand that had piloted her from the car was now almost supporting her. With a look that turned her knees to jelly, he said softly. 'This is it, my pet. Your wedding and mine. If you're determined to see the world we'll do it together.' He planted a swift kiss on her lips parted in amazement. 'John is giving you away.'

Greer's head was like a hive of bees buzzing about aimlessly, her brain was cotton wool. 'But...' she expostulated weakly. Mike grinned. 'You can't disappoint the piccaninnies. They're Mrs Sam's grandchildren. It would be a pity to take away their bracelets if there was no wedding.' 'As if you could do such a thing!' she cried indignantly before she saw that it was just another of his tricks to bring her back to normal thinking. With another swift tantalizing kiss Mike strode down the aisle. As though it was a cue the organ pealed, someone thrust a bouquet into her hands and John offered her his arm. She had no time to dwell upon the fact that it had all been part of a plan. All she knew was that she was marrying the man she loved and would love for ever. There was no regret at the lack of a bridal veil and all the trimmings she was too clothed in ecstasy to care. The service passed in a dream with Mike slipping the ring he had collected earlier from the ship on to her trembling finger. Then he was kissing her and she knew the blessed relief at not having to hide her own feelings. Her green eyes shone up into his adoring grey ones as they walked, oblivious of their surroundings, to the vestry, followed by John, Myra and the piccaninnies. The bells pealed as they left the church to be driven away by a uniformed chauffeur. 'Well, Mrs Fenton?' Mike said in slightly thicker tones, his arm sliding around her slim waist as they sat in the back of the car. 'What about this for the start of your second big adventure into the great big world?'

She slid her arms around his neck swooningly. 'Tell me more,' she murmured as he crushed her in his arms with a hunger that could at last be assuaged… The reception at Fenton Manor was something Greer would always remember. The happy faces of the guests, the gay envy of the Turner twins, Mrs Sam and the Fords smiling benignly and Myra with tears of happiness in her eyes at the thought of Greer not leaving the island, after all. The drive to the docks was followed by the guests in their cars plus a row of tin cans tied to the back of Mike's car by the irrepressible twins. There were kisses and handshakes and, at last, they were sailing away from the island. In their suite they had changed for dinner with the captain where champagne had flowed freely amid the usual good wishes. Then they had strolled to a deserted corner of the deck where only a smiling moon looked down on them from a dark blue sky. Greer laid her head back against the broad, white-clad shoulder, his lips brushed her temple as he held her in the circle of his arms. 'I can't believe it yet,' she said. 'I was so sure you were marrying that pretty nurse.' He chuckled. 'There wasn't the remotest possibility of that happening. I was determined to find the right one or never marry. I felt that the moment I met her that I would know. I did. You shot me a wideeyed look from those bright green eyes at the top of the gangway of the Shalotte and I was sunk. I thought we would have fun on the ship that would end joyfully in the little church in the mountains.' 'It has,' she said.

'But we didn't have fun on the ship. I had to watch Bill Rutherford making a pass at you, then later it was Blair. You don't know what I went through, especially when you told me that day at the falls that you wanted to be free to roam the world.' 'I hadn't fallen for you then. You see, I felt the pull towards you right from our first meeting, but I fought against it.' She paused, said thoughtfully, 'You took an awful lot for granted bulldozing me into marriage right on the church doorstep. What if I'd refused?' He drew her closer. 'It wouldn't have made any difference. I would have gone back with you to the ship and made you so confused during the journey that you would have eventually begged me to marry you. You see, I meant to have you.' She snuggled against him. 'I even hated the house you were having built because it would have you and I wouldn't.' 'I've news for you about that. Sybil Mere won't be decorating it. She's left the island for good. Her house is in an agent's hands and she's marrying Thor Henie. We could have the house done to our own liking. Anything you say.' He smiled into her eyes. Greer floated on a cloud imagining them furnishing the house together and almost trilled into song at the thought of a nursery. 'I can't wait to start,' she said. 'You won't be back yet,' he said. 'We're taking that trip round the world that you've dreamed so much about first. At least, I shall be sure of you returning home in one piece.' She looked up at him with all her love shining in her eyes. 'Is that why you married me?' she asked impishly.

'This is why I married you,' he answered unevenly. Turning her round in his arms, he proceeded to show her to no uncertain manner until she was flushed and breathless from his kisses. 'I'm going to give you the family you never had,' he murmured against her small ear. 'My own family will do to be going on with until we start our own.' She buried her face against his chest, suddenly shy. 'I hope your family like me and aren't annoyed with you for marrying while they're away.' "They'll adore you. As for marrying while they're away, they know by now that I'm the kind of man who takes what he wants, and by heaven how I wanted you!' The emotion in his voice made her brave. She lifted her head. 'That makes two of us,' she said. He looked down at her for a long moment in the disturbing way he had. Her heart accelerated alarmingly as the grey eyes darkened with passion. 'If that's true then, like me, you must be simply aching to go to our cabin, you abandoned woman.' His voice, even while it teased, was thick with emotion. Her low musical laugh was one of pure happiness. 'I am,' she admitted quite shamelessly. 'I was an abandoned baby.' He gave a deep masculine chuckle, swept her into his arms and strode along the deck in the direction of their suite of rooms.