A Dangerous Taste of Passion

by Anne Mather

  But, predictably, Sally had thought of that too. ‘Don’t go getting any ideas,’ she said, taking hold of one of Lily’s arms and twisting it up behind her back. ‘If you make one wrong move, I’ll break this.’

  Lily believed her as she grasped the handrail with her sweat-slick fingers. ‘Why should I care?’ she demanded, refusing to let the woman see her panic. ‘I’ve got nothing to lose.’

  ‘Good point.’ Sally gave a short mirthless laugh. ‘You’re not as stupid as you look. Which makes a change. Rafe’s women are usually thick as planks.’

  Lily’s stomach tightened. Despite her earlier doubts about him, subsequent events made her think Rafe wasn’t a womaniser. But she was very much afraid it wasn’t going to matter either way.

  It was slightly cooler on deck but, although Lily looked helplessly about her, there was no one in sight. Dear God, she thought grimly, where was Ray Myers when she needed him? It was after two o’clock. Lunchtime was over. He would normally have been on her case.

  ‘Over there.’ Sally gestured towards the wheelhouse. ‘You do know how to start the engines, don’t you?’

  Lily stared at her blankly. Her idea of what was going to happen next needed serious revision. What on earth was the woman planning? Why, in God’s name, did she want her to start the engines?

  ‘You do know how to start the bloody thing, don’t you?’

  Sally was impatient, and Lily tried to think what she should do. Yes, she knew the principles of starting the powerful motors. But was that enough?

  And this was the Santa Lucia, she reminded herself. Its engines were old and they were already desperate for repair. According to Dave Tapply, it was a miracle that either they, or the group who’d hired the craft, had made it back to Orchid Cay in one piece. When you were dealing with petroleum, there was always the danger that it could cause a fire.

  She thought about telling Sally that and swiftly abandoned the idea. The woman was never going to believe her. There was so much bitterness in her face, Lily found herself wishing the engines would start. Surely Sally would let her go once they were out of the harbour?

  Or not.

  But she didn’t want to think that far ahead.

  Hoping against hope that someone might see them, Lily allowed herself to be propelled towards the console. The arm Sally was pushing was painful, but a broken arm seemed less important now.

  The keys were in the ignition. No one in their right mind would try to steal the Lucia, she thought resignedly. Everyone who used the marina knew that the boat wasn’t seaworthy.

  With a brief glance at the woman beside her, she used her free hand to turn the key and press the ignition.

  Nothing happened at first. An ominous silence seemed to have fallen over the marina.

  But when she pressed again there was a low rumble from below deck. Like a car’s engine whose carburettor had been flooded, the engines turned over. But they didn’t start. No matter how often she tried, the result was always the same.

  Aware that Sally was close behind her, Lily renewed her efforts. But it was a distinctly weaker sound now. As Dave had said, it was a miracle that either of the engines had fired, and now it seemed they’d both given up the ghost.

  ‘Why isn’t it starting?’

  Getting angry, the woman forced Lily to move aside and reached for the ignition. She pressed the button herself, over and over again. But the only reaction she got was the groan of protesting machinery.

  ‘What the hell’s the matter with it?’ she demanded. ‘Is it out of gas?’

  Lily, who’d been jammed against the console, tried to humour her. ‘It—it might be,’ she said, glancing about her. ‘Do you want me to see if I can find a spare can—?’

  She broke off abruptly. Although she knew she must be imagining things, she could have sworn she’d seen someone on the deck of the boat that was moored alongside the Lucia.

  A shadow had moved and then concealed itself behind the wheelhouse. Dear God, it had looked a lot like Rafe. Which only showed how desperate she’d become.

  ‘Do I want you to see if you can find a spare what?’

  Sally was waiting for her answer, and Lily struggled to remember what she’d said.

  ‘A...a spare can of gas,’ she stammered, forcing herself not to look towards the other vessel. ‘There might be one stored...stored below.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Sally forced Lily’s arm further up her back until she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from crying out in agony. ‘Do you honestly think I’m going to let you go rummaging about down there on your own?’ She swore. ‘How the hell am I going to get this heap out of the harbour? Dammit, it must work. It got here, didn’t it?’

  For a moment, her attention was diverted by the need to start the engines, and Lily attempted to ease the hold on her arm. But Sally didn’t let go and the pain became excruciating. ‘You’re wasting your time,’ she told her contemptuously. ‘Forget it, little girl. You’re not leaving. If Rafe doesn’t come, you’ll have to take the consequences instead.’

  She pressed the ignition once more and, as she did so, Lily took the chance to glance towards the other boat again.

  With a mixture of relief and dismay, she saw Rafe wedged between the cabin and the rail. She hadn’t been mistaken. He was just a few yards away.

  Rafe saw her too, but he shook his head to deter her from reacting. Not that she needed his warning. She had no intention of drawing the other woman’s attention to him.

  Nevertheless, guessing he was going to try and board the Lucia, Lily felt her heart accelerate. Did he know how unpredictable, not to say dangerous, his ex-wife was? If she thought Rafe had come to Lily’s rescue, God knew how she’d take her revenge.

  ‘Do you think it could be the key?’ she offered hurriedly now, desperate to distract the woman’s attention, and Sally gave her another scornful look.

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ she exclaimed. ‘The engines wouldn’t have turned over at all if that were true.’ She kicked the base of the unit, her temper growing. ‘Dammit, it’s got to start.’

  But, although she tried again, nothing happened and, with a sudden burst of fury, she slammed her fist down onto the console, causing the boat to rock at its moorings.

  And, as she did so, a screwdriver that had been lying on the console tumbled to the floor.

  It was a big screwdriver, long and heavy, and Lily guessed it had been used by one of the engineers checking out the faulty engines. If she could just get hold of it...

  She caught her breath. Sally didn’t appear to have noticed what had happened. She was too intent on jamming her finger on the ignition over and over again. What she hoped to achieve, Lily couldn’t imagine. It was obvious the engines weren’t going to turn over again.

  Lily clenched her teeth. If she could just get free she could use the screwdriver to defend herself. And Rafe, she thought determinedly. She doubted he had brought a weapon with him.

  She hadn’t the first idea where he was at this particular moment. She daren’t look at the other vessel in case she drew attention to herself. If Sally guessed her ex-husband was in the vicinity, God alone knew how she might react.

  Lily’s arm was throbbing, but that was the least of her worries. She had to get away from Sally. She had to do something to save herself before Rafe came charging to the rescue.

  Then there was a sound like the roar of an approaching train. The boat bucked savagely beneath them and Sally was obliged to release Lily to save herself. And, despite the agony in her arm, Lily lunged wildly for the screwdriver that had rolled to within an inch of falling into the dock.

  She almost lost her balance, and she wondered if Rafe was responsible for what was happening. But then there was another almighty blast, and she was thrown violently off her feet.

  The screwdriver went flying, and she felt the deck come up to meet her. She landed hard, unable to suppress a groan when her injured arm hit the floor.

  She rolled towards the rail, try
ing to put some distance between her and her tormentor, but the pain in her arm had made her sick. Where was Rafe? she wondered dizzily. Where was Sally? Then something solid hit her on the back of her head and she knew no more...

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SHE WAS AWAKENED by a man in a white coat leaning over her, directing the light from a torch onto her aching pupils. The light was white, vividly white, as was the room in which she was lying. She was in a strange white world and she heard herself give a moan of protest.

  Then two things happened simultaneously. The man’s face broke into a smile of satisfaction and Rafe appeared at the man’s shoulder, almost elbowing him aside to get close to her.

  ‘Querida,’ he said, lifting her limp hand from the coverlet, and she was almost sure his voice shook a little as he spoke. He raised her hand to his lips, the relief on his face plain to see. ‘Dios, querida, we have been so worried about you.’

  ‘Mr Oliveira.’ The man who Lily now realised must be a doctor spoke mildly, but it was obvious that he expected to be obeyed. ‘I understand your concern, particularly in the circumstances, but you must allow me to finish my examination of Ms Fielding.’

  Rafe released her hand with evident reluctance and stepped back from the bed. At the same time, her father moved into her line of vision, his studious face showing the same strain Rafe’s had exhibited.

  Lily tried to smile at him, wanting to show him he didn’t have to worry. But then, as the doctor was examining her head, running exploratory fingers over her scalp, he touched a sensitive spot at the back of her skull and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  ‘Ah,’ he said consideringly, as both Rafe and her father offered a protest. ‘That is tender, is it not? And no wonder. Something hit your head with considerable force.’

  Lily drew a trembling breath. Until that moment her reasons for being in what was apparently a hospital bed had been shadowy, vague, existing somewhere just beyond the reach of her conscious mind.

  But the doctor’s words had torn the veil aside.

  ‘I—Rafe—’ she began, looking beseechingly towards him and, once again, he came swiftly to her side.

  ‘Just rest, querida,’ he said. ‘Permit the doctor to complete his examination. We will talk, I promise you. When you are feeling stronger.’

  ‘But, Rafe—your wife—’

  ‘Lily...’ Rafe looked helplessly at the doctor and, with a gesture of assent, the man nodded his head. ‘Lily, Sarah was badly injured in the accident. I will tell you all about it later.’

  Lily stared at him. ‘What happened?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Were you hurt too?’

  ‘Later,’ the doctor intervened. ‘You know, you have been very lucky. That blow you suffered could have killed you.’

  Lily gazed at him weakly, the throbbing in her head making every movement an agony. ‘Then what—?’

  ‘A little concussion is all,’ declared the doctor, straightening to address his remarks to Rafe and her father. ‘A few days’ rest and recuperation and she should be as good as new.’

  ‘Thank God!’ Her father spoke for the first time, coming to stand beside the bed, gazing down at her with anxious eyes. ‘When Mr Oliveira told me what had happened, I was devastated. You could have been killed, as Dr Martinez says, and what would I have done then?’

  Lily managed a weak smile. It was typical of her father to think of himself first.

  ‘Well, I’m still here,’ she said huskily, allowing him to take her hand. ‘I’m all right, really. I’ve just got a bad headache, that’s all.’

  ‘I can give you something for that,’ said the doctor, and William Fielding moved aside.

  ‘I want your assurance that my daughter will receive the best of care while she’s in the hospital, Dr Martinez,’ he said stiffly. ‘She’s very precious to me. Whatever it costs, we’ll find the money somehow.’

  Lily groaned. ‘Daddy—’

  ‘Oh, but there is no need for Ms Fielding to stay in the hospital,’ protested Dr Martinez at once. ‘We’ll keep her overnight, of course, just to ensure there are no other surprises. Tomorrow she can return home. She must rest, you understand, and I would recommend a light diet for the next few days. But time is a great healer. She should make a full recovery.’

  He smiled at both men before returning his attention to Lily’s father. ‘Mr Fielding, we find patients recover much more quickly in their own homes.’

  ‘It’s Reverend Fielding, actually,’ said William Fielding in his usual pedantic way. ‘But I’m not at all sure that sending Lily home is such a good idea. I’m a busy man, Martinez. Who is going to look after her? I love my daughter dearly, but I am no good in the sickroom.’

  ‘Daddy—’ Lily tried to speak, but Rafe forestalled her.

  ‘Do not concern yourself, Reverend,’ he said, his eyes darkening as they rested on Lily’s pale face. ‘With your permission, I will arrange for Lily to stay at Orchid Point for the period of her convalescence. I will see that a nurse is employed and, rest assured, she will receive the best of care.’

  William Fielding was obviously taken aback, and Lily waited for him to say that of course that wouldn’t be necessary, that somehow he and Dee-Dee would manage.

  But he didn’t say anything of the kind. When he spoke again, it was to thank Rafe for his offer. ‘That might be best,’ he said with evident relief. ‘I’m sure Lily joins me in appreciating your kindness.’

  ‘Daddy!’

  Lily stared disbelievingly at her father. She was fairly sure that Rafe was just being polite, that he felt some kind of responsibility for what had happened. But she didn’t want to be beholden to him if that was all it was.

  ‘Now, Lily—’ began her father in that condescending tone he used sometimes, as Lily attempted to lever herself up from the pillow.

  ‘Daddy, you can’t—’ she got out before the pain in her head stifled her protest. Groaning, she sank back against the pillows, and this time Rafe brooked no interference as he bent and touched her face with his hand.

  ‘Let me,’ he said huskily, his eyes dark and disturbingly possessive. ‘Let me look after you, querida. I need... I need to be able to look after you. Humour me, Lily. I am in torment. These last few days have been the worst of my life!’

  Lily swallowed, the pain subsiding as she relaxed again. ‘There’s no need,’ she whispered softly, but Rafe merely bent and brushed his lips against her cheek.

  ‘There is every need,’ he told her thickly. ‘I have gone through hell since I got word of your phone call. The way I feel at present, I never want to let you out of my sight again.’

  * * *

  It was not until two days later that Lily found out what had happened after she’d lost consciousness on the Santa Lucia.

  With William Fielding’s blessing, Rafe had arranged for an ambulance to transport her from the hospital in town to his house at Orchid Point the following day.

  There, a uniformed nurse who had accompanied her from the hospital supervised her installation in a guest suite off the galleried landing. Then settled her to rest between cool linen sheets in a darkened room.

  Rafe kept out of the way and Lily couldn’t help wondering if he was regretting his generosity. But even the short journey from town had exhausted her and she was too weak to worry about that now.

  After the nurse had drawn the blinds, she left her. And Lily closed her eyes and fell instantly asleep.

  She was unaware of it, but she slept for more than sixteen hours.

  Rafe was concerned and was constantly checking on her, but the nurse, a young West Indian woman, assured him she’d come to no harm. She was keeping a close eye on her patient’s condition, she told him. She would know immediately if anything was wrong.

  Lily awoke early the following morning. The room was shadowy because the blinds were still drawn, but slatted rays of sunlight were making a pattern on the ceiling above her head.

  She thought at first she was alone, but then she saw Rafe, slouched
in a chair by the windows. He appeared to be asleep, his head thrown back, his hands hanging loosely over the arms of the cushioned rocker.

  She wondered how long he’d been there. Some time, she suspected, judging by the shadow of stubble on his jaw. She shifted on her pillows, dreading the blinding pain she’d suffered in recent days. But, apart from a twinge of discomfort, she felt much better. Evidently, as Dr Martinez had said, time was a great healer.

  She must have made a sound because Rafe stirred at once. Pushing himself up almost before he was fully conscious, he stumbled unsteadily across the room.

  ‘You are awake,’ he said huskily, his eyes dark and searching. ‘Do you know you have slept for hours?’

  ‘Have I?’ Lily was surprised. ‘I must have been tired.’

  ‘Tired, yes.’ Rafe scrubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes and then stared blearily at his watch. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Lily blinked. ‘I feel much better,’ she said, aware that the throbbing in her head had almost gone. ‘What time is it? It looks very bright outside.’

  ‘It is a little after seven in the morning. A beautiful morning now that you are awake,’ Rafe added fervently.

  Lily stared at him. ‘You mean I’ve slept almost a whole day?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ he agreed. ‘But that is good. You needed to rest.’ He paused. ‘So how does your head feel?’

  ‘Better. Not so muzzy.’ Lily moved against the pillows to show she could. ‘The pain has virtually gone.’

  ‘Gracias a Dios.’ Rafe was pleased. ‘Your father will be delighted. I have kept him informed of your progress. He has been very worried about you.’

  Lily reserved judgement on that score. She shouldn’t forget that her father was responsible for her being brought here in the first place.

  Rafe nodded now. ‘You must be hungry. I will get Carla to—’

  Lily eased herself up against the pillows. ‘Um...could I just have some water? I... I’m not hungry, but my mouth is...dry.’