by Liz Fielding
She lifted her face to look up at him and for a blazing second their eyes met and anything might have happened. Then Griff pulled back. ‘I’m sorry, Maddy,’ he said, ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
Maddy put out her hand, cradled his cheek lightly in her hand. ‘It’s all right, Griff. I promise I’m not about to summon the constabulary.’ Her voice was a shy husky murmur from deep in her throat. ‘And I’m not about to scream. Promise.’
‘Don’t!’ He groaned and she withdrew her hand. ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you, Maddy. Not like that... God knows, I didn’t mean to. It was wrong.’ His sweeping glance took in the island spread at their feet before he turned to her, his eyes as dark as obsidian against the brilliance of the sun, his face shadowed, and suddenly she remembered and guilt stabbed through her.
‘Because of Zoë.’
Startled, he turned to her. ‘You’ve guessed?’
So, it was true. ‘You were careless, Griff...’
‘I knew I’d said too much.’
How could she have ever forgotten? Zoë would be shattered to discover that she had made a fool of herself over a fortune-hunter. How much worse it would be if she discovered that her young lover had made a pass at her god-daughter before he’d even banked the proceeds?
‘How could you do it?’ she asked a little despairingly.
He stood up abruptly. ‘I can’t expect you to understand. You could never begin to understand how much I owe...’
He was in debt? Maddy felt a surge of hope. It was as simple as that? She could handle that. She would return Zoë’s cheque, deal with Griff’s problems herself. They would be expensive, no doubt, but she would do anything to save Zoë from the bitter disillusionment of knowing that a man had wanted her only for her money. She looked up into his face. Expensive and dangerous, but there was no other way. The tip of her tongue moistened her dry mouth.
‘I want you to forget about Zoë, Griff.’ He stiffened, but she ploughed on before she entirely lost her nerve. ‘You don’t need her. Just tell me what you want; I’ll do anything-—’
‘Stop that!’ He seized her arm and shook her. ‘For a moment — for just a moment — I hoped, dreamed... But I should know better than to rely on a shooting star.’ He jerked her close, so that his mouth was threatening hers. ‘So, tell me, my beautiful little gold-digger, what is it that you do that drives men crazy? What tricks—?’
‘What... what are you talking about?’ Bewildered by this sudden change in his manner, she tried to step back, but his hand tightened about her arm and she didn’t make it.
‘I’m cut from a different cloth from the men you play your teasing games with. What the Dragon Man wants—’
‘Dragon Man?’ Confusion was fogging her mind so that she could hardly think. The Dragon Man? What on earth was he talking about? The Dragon Man wasn’t here...
‘I’ve always thought, Maddy, that one day you would go too far.’ Seizing the hem of her T-shirt, he pulled it over her head in one smooth movement and tossed it aside. Before her stunned brain could react, he’d hooked his thumbs beneath the straps of her swimsuit and jerked them down over her arms, exposing the whiteness of breasts that she had never bared to the sun. There was a moment of shocked silence. ‘What the Dragon Man wants,’ he repeated, in a low, throaty growl that scorched her very soul, ‘he takes. And since you’re so generously offering...’
Maddy’s mind cleared in a sudden flash of understanding, but even as she opened her mouth to demand an explanation he jerked her close, crushing her pitilessly against the iron wall of his chest. This time his lips were without mercy.
At first, she was too shocked to react. It was far too long a moment before her fists began raining blows against his shoulders and she began kicking out with her useless sandals that made not the slightest impression. He took everything she could throw at him and still his fingers bit into her shoulders and she had to endure that fierce, loveless kiss.
It was as if he was determined to wipe out every trace of his brief, tender embrace at the summit of paradise, overwrite the memory with something far earthier, more primitive than that most loving touch, reducing it from something splendid to man’s most basic instinct.
As the realisation of what he was doing finally penetrated the turmoil of her confused, bewildered brain, Maddy stopped fighting. She welcome the savage intrusion of his tongue in the knowledge that it would destroy for ever the sweet taste of his lips and offer her some kind of freedom.
If he had wanted to make her hate him, he couldn’t have chosen a more effective weapon. In that moment, with all of her heart, she wanted to hate him. A trembling heat surged through her abdomen, flooded her thighs with a delicious ache that urged her to press closer to him as her body rejected the intellectual games her mind was playing.
When finally, after what might have been a lifetime, he raised his head and she saw that his eyes were hard, blanked of all expression, she lifted her hand and wiped the back of it across her burning mouth in a heartbreakingly vulnerable gesture that brought a soft oath to his lips.
‘What have I ever done to you, Griff?’ Maddy demanded, breathless but determined, her eyes blazing in her white face, taking on the question in his bottomless green eyes and flinging it back at him.
‘Don’t you know?’ His voice was barely more than a breath. ‘Have you no idea—?’ He stopped abruptly, releasing her shoulders without warning so that she stumbled and her foot came sharply up against the root of a tree blown down by some tropical storm that had swept the island long ago. She cried out as she put out a hand to save herself, but with a swiftness of movement that seemed to defy gravity he was there, holding her, cursing under his breath at his own stupidity as he steadied her.
But she jerked away from him, from the burning touch of his hands upon her skin, staggering a little as she broke free, holding him at bay when he would have reached out to help — then blushing fiercely as she saw that his eyes were fixed upon her body. ‘For pity’s sake, cover yourself!’
Transfixed by embarrassment she just stood there and he caught the straps of her swimsuit and pulled it up himself.
His touch was sufficient to break the spell that held her and she jerked back, holding her costume to her with her arm as a tiny, anguished moan escaped her lips.
How had she ever been stupid enough to believe she could forget his kiss, the extraordinary joy of that moment when she had believed he had meant it? She would try, but she knew it would be a lost cause. Nothing he could do to her would ever destroy that shimmering moment in time when she had been ready to believe that anything was possible. She would always remember. If she lived to be ninety-two, the honeyed touch of his lips would still be the most bitter-sweet memory.
‘Oh, God, Maddy.’ He took a step towards her. ‘This is a nightmare. I never meant — ’
She held out an imperious hand to stop him. She didn’t want to know what he meant. Locked in that maelstrom of passion and pain, she had worked out the bare bones of it for herself. Hugo Griffin was the Dragon Man. The clue had been there in his name all the time. Griffins and dragons were all cut from the same dangerous cloth. Did he mean her to know, or had it just slipped out?
How foolish she had been. How gullible. The dinghy that hadn’t stopped. The way he had delayed her when she had tried to light the fire to attract a distant yacht... the lighter that had conveniently refused to work until it was too late...
‘Maddy...’ He reached out for her.
‘It’s my nightmare, not yours, Dragon Man,’ she flung at him.
Griff bit down hard, his lips thinning as he fought to keep inside whatever it was he wanted to say, man enough to know that he could not apologise for what he had done, that there were no words to cover it. But it was precious little comfort. Her hand still outstretched to keep him at a distance, she walked slowly, carefully around him until she was between him and the path that led back through the forest to the beach. ‘I’m going back to the beach,’ she sa
id. ‘Alone.’
He retrieved her T-shirt, took a step towards her. ‘I’d better come with you—’
She snatched the shirt, pulled it over her, feeling too naked in her demure swimsuit. ‘Don’t! Don’t call me Maddy,’ she said, her voice oddly calm. This wasn’t the moment to scream. Her pain was an icy knot deep inside her, contained too tightly for such an easy release. She wasn’t sure that she would ever be able to raise her voice above a whisper again. ‘Don’t speak to me at all, Hugo Griffin.’ How hard it was to say his name! ‘From now on, I don’t want you to do anything for me; I don’t want you to come near me. I don’t want you to touch me.’ She could never risk that longed-for caress. He didn’t say anything but remained perfectly still a foot away from her. ‘Is that clear?’ she demanded.
‘You wanted me to answer you?’ he asked, his eyes glittering dangerously in that small, scented clearing high above the Caribbean. ‘I thought I wasn’t supposed to speak.’ She snapped round, took a step towards the path, but his voice followed her. ‘There’s no way off this island without me,’ he warned.
‘Someone will come looking for me. Until they do, just stay away from me.’ She turned and half stumbled onto the path.
‘Will you be taking up shrimping again, Maddy Rufus?’ he asked very softly, tempting her to a truce, and she faltered, glanced back. But she could never return to that state of armed neutrality that had governed their relationship until now. One tender kiss and she had been prepared to lay down her arms and surrender all too willingly. Dignity was all that remained and precious little of that, but if she stretched it thinly it might just save her.
‘The shrimps are safe from me,’ she said, with only a little shake in her voice. ‘I can survive on water for the next twenty-four hours if I have to. Even Zoë should have got the message by then.’
‘And if she hasn’t?’ He took another step towards her as if he sensed her vulnerability. She didn’t wait to find out but stepped back onto the path before turning to run as fast as she dared down the steep, narrow track towards the space and safety of the beach. Once she glanced back — she couldn’t see or hear him, but she didn’t pause until she was brought to a breathless halt in the glade above the waterfall by the barrier of the stream. The stepping stones seemed further apart than she remembered, or maybe they were just more daunting without his strong arm to cling to as she leapt across.
As she stepped out onto the first stone she saw him out of the corner of her eye, his face riven with concern. ‘Maddy, wait!’
But she couldn’t wait, mustn’t wait. He remained where he was, afraid, perhaps, that any sudden move on his part would initiate disaster. Maddy locked him out of her head, making the return journey with enormous concentration, determined that she should not slip on the wet stones and give him any excuse to come after her or touch her.
Finally, she stepped onto the opposite bank with a long sigh of relief and it took all her will-power not to look back.
Jack had disappeared from his perch above the falls, although she fancied she heard his squawk tempting her from somewhere below, down the forbidden path. Maddy did not even look; it held no attraction for her now. She just wanted to get back to the beach. She would be safer there in the bright sunlight but first, she had to negotiate the waterfall. From below, with Griff to pull her up, it had seemed simple enough, but, from above, the ground seemed far away, with the slippery rocks lying in wait to tear at her if she should make the slightest error.
The rattle of a stone warned her that Griff was close behind. ‘There’s only one way down,’ he said, and before she could even register his presence at her side his arm was about her waist, pinning her tight against him. Startled, she glanced up, and he stared down into her face. ‘Ready?’ He didn’t wait for her answer but leapt with her down through the cascading falls and into the dark water of the pool. It was much deeper than she had supposed and they sank, it seemed to Maddy, for ever, his arms and legs wrapped protectively around her, her hair streaming out above them.
They hung motionless in the water for what seemed like forever. Griff’s face was pale underwater, with dark shadows that made him seem both strange and beautiful, and Maddy thought her heart must break in two. Then he gave a fierce kick with his feet and they were speeding upwards, the water fizzing around them as they erupted, gasping, locked together, the water streaming down their faces.
‘Shall we go back and do that again?’ he invited, his eyes dark with some unfathomable mystery. Maddy would have given anything in the world to be able to say yes.
Then she saw the spray of creamy orchids floating on the surface of the water — the flowers that he had picked and threaded through her hair — and a small cry escaped her lips before she clamped them shut on her pain.
She closed her eyes tightly. How could there be pain? She had known the Dragon Man for such a little time. For turbulent, difficult hours, it was true, but he had never hidden the way he felt about her. From the very first moment, he had been consistent.
Until he had kissed her and melted her heart.
Maddy put her hands against his chest and pushed, turning away from the heady challenge in his eyes, and swam swiftly to the side where she hauled herself out of the pool. She had lost her sandals in that wild, breathless jump from the top of the falls and as she cast about for them, Griff leapt down beside her, cutting her off from the path to the beach. A bubble of panic rose to her throat as he moved slowly towards her, then a flash of orange caught her eye. It was Jack showing her the way and she turned and plunged after him through the thick curtain of vegetation, ignoring Griff’s urgent warning shout.
There was a path of sorts — the one she had seen from the top of the falls. It was steep, damp beneath her bare feet, but she didn’t care. As she heard Griff at her back she flew down it.
‘Maddy, stop!’ She half turned and missed the tangle of roots until she was
Falling, pain spearing through her ankle. ‘Oh, Maddy,’ Griff said as he came to a halt beside her. ‘Whatever am I going to do with you?’ he said, tucking down beside her on his haunches.
‘Nothing! Stay away from me.’ She made a move to stand and for a couple of seconds she thought it was going to be all right. She could ignore the pain, she told herself. She put her weight on her ankle and fell again, this time into Griff’s waiting arms, but as everything went black it no longer seemed to matter.
Her faint could not have lasted more than a second or two. She was dimly aware of being carried swiftly along the path in Griff’s arms, every step jarring her injured ankle. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out. After a hundred yards or so, the elusive scent of the frangipani, which had seemed to haunt her all day, grew steadily stronger until quite suddenly the tree swam into focus beside her, its ugly grey bulbous branches laden with exquisite, scented blossoms.
There was something else beyond the tree. It took her a moment to work out what she was looking at, so well was the house disguised from the casual observer. She stiffened in disbelief. A house! While she had been living in the most primitive conditions on the beach, civilisation had been a few hundred yards away with hot running water, beds without sand...
Not just any house. The wooden roof shingles seemed to mock her; the supporting posts that did nothing to interrupt the cooling breeze might almost have sprung from her own laughing words as she had accepted Griff’s invitation to describe the kind of house she would build on this island if it were hers.
The whole idea seemed so ridiculous that she wondered if she might be dreaming, or if the house was a mirage conjured up from a childish game of make-believe by her unconscious brain. She closed her eyes and opened them again. It was still there. Then she remembered his amusement at her description — restrained, under the circumstances.
Maddy looked up into Griff’s concerned eyes, then looked away again quickly. ‘Very funny,’ she snapped.
‘I’m not laughing, Maddy,’ he said softly.
‘Oh, please
, don’t hold back, Dragon Man, you might split something...’ She caught her breath as he stepped up onto the veranda and hot pain jarred through her ankle.
‘Don’t move,’ he said as he laid her carefully on a thickly upholstered sofa. ‘I’ll be right back.’
‘Please don’t rush,’ she told his retreating back through gritted teeth. Then, as she lay back against the soft cushions, added, ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
She stared up at the veranda roof — a series of pyramid shapes supported on thick pillars, lined and crossed with sweetly scented native woods, each delineating a separate room open to the breeze blowing in from the sea. Her first impression of the Dragon Man’s lair had been quite wrong. It went far beyond her own simple idea of a small beach house hidden from the world by the thick forest. This was a masterpiece of design and construction.
She lay on one of two huge sofas covered with dark green linen which were set on either side of a low, square mahogany table, very old and so thick that it must have taken four men to move. Cool rattan chairs were upholstered in tropical shades of green and yellow. Everywhere she looked, there were tall plants and beautiful objects d’art in brilliant colours that began to merge into one.
Then the colour was gone and Griff’s face swam above her and he gently pushed back the hair that was clinging limply to her forehead. ‘I’m sorry, Maddy,’ he said. ‘But I’m afraid this is going to hurt.’
* * *
When Maddy opened her eyes, the sky was white and she frowned. That couldn’t be right. This was paradise and the sky was always blue.
She moved her head, but it wasn’t lying on the sand. It was propped on a soft down pillow. She turned and was immediately aware of a pair of thighs inches from her face. Strong, tanned, impossible to ignore. She gave it her best shot, closing her eyes, but he didn’t go away. Instead, he laid his hand upon her forehead.
‘How are you feeling?’
She stiffened at his touch. ‘You really don’t want to know that.’