'I'm afraid it will get rougher as we move further into the Atlantic,' he warned her.
'So Dandy said.'
There was a pause, then he asked drily: 'What's the matter, Lissa?'
'Nothing.' She did not look round, keeping her eyes fixed on the rise and fall of the grey waters into which they were moving. From the look of the flat horizon Dandy was right—bad weather was waiting for them.
She felt Luc's hand at her waist. His fingers stroked slowly up her back and she stiffened. 'Don't do that!'
He ran that exploring hand along her body, ignoring the muffled protest. She swung, stepping away from him. Her green eyes flared at him angrily. 'If you don't leave me alone I'll chuck myself over the side!'
Luc's smile went. He considered her unreadably, his eyes cool. 'Don't make idle threats.'
'I mean it. If you don't keep your hands to yourself from now on I'll jump overboard.'
'Then from now on you'll only be allowed on deck when I'm with you,' Luc bit out coldly. His face was hard, his eyes like blue steel. 'If you're going to make childish threats you must be treated like a child.'
'You can't make me stay below!' Lissa flung back the angry words and the wind whipped them away across the water.
He smiled, a fierce twist of the mouth which had no humour in it. 'Just watch me.'
'You can't keep me locked up for ever,' she retorted. 'At the very first port we come to, I'll attract attention somehow. I'll scream and wave and break the porthole.'
'You won't get the chance, sweetheart,' he promised in a drawl. 'I'll see to that. I'll keep you far too occupied while we're in port to do a damn thing to attract anybody's attention but mine.'
Her face burned at the mockery in his eyes. There was a coldness beneath it which she hated, which made her situation so much worse, Luc intended to make love to her and his awareness of her inability to stop him, the cynical coolness of those blue eyes, made her veins run with ice.
'I must have been insane to imagine I could trust you,' she accused unsteadily. 'I should have known you'd make me pay dearly for any help you gave me.'
'You knew what I would expect,' he retorted, the lines of his face hardening.
'And it doesn't matter whether I want the same thing, I suppose,' Lissa flung at him, her voice brittle and hoarse.
His eyes narrowed. 'You want me, Lissa. Stop lying to yourself.'
The way he watched her made her throat beat with fever. She moved, but he moved faster. He caught her, his hand tightening around her wrist in a vice-Iikc grip.
'Are you determined to annoy me? Because if so, you're on the way to succeeding, Lissa. You may have been able to play fast and loose with Brandon for months, but you aren't doing it to me.'
'I'm not playing anything,' she said angrily, looking at him with defiance. 'Can't you even begin to see it from my viewpoint?'
'You're not playing games with me!' he bit out.
'Why can't you leave me alone?' Lissa groaned, pulling away.
Luc's blue eyes hardened. He yanked her forward by her tethered hand and trapped her between his body and the rail. His other hand jerked back her head and he kissed her ruthlessly, the wind tangling their hair and leaving a salt bloom on their skin.
When at last Luc lifted his head he was breathing heavily. She was trembling, her lips bruised, and yielding. The fierce thud of Luc's heart beat next to hers.
She met his blue eyes without trying to avoid them. Her whole body was melting in the passion he had unleashed in her.
'You really get to me, Liss,' he muttered thickly.
His eyes were leaping with the desire she could feel in the hard, body pressing against her. It left Lissa so weak she could only just manage to breathe.
Luc straightened, moving away, his breathing slowing. 'You're here and you're staying,' he told her. 'And you're mine. It's too late for you to have second thoughts. If you're regretting Brandon I'm sorry—you made your choice and you must stick with it. I've got you and I'm not giving you up.'
Lissa stared at the deck, her face very flushed.
After a pause Luc said curtly: 'Come below. We'll have some coffee,'
'I feel sick,' she said.
Luc muttered a swear word under his breath. 'Very well,' he added harshly. 'You can go back to your own cabin and stay there.' He took her arm and thrust her back below, pushing her into her cabin with an anger he made no attempt to hide. 'Sulk there as much as you like,' he bit out as he slammed the door and locked it.
Dandy brought her a cup of tea some time later. She heard the key turn and swung, her eyes wary, relaxing as she saw that it was not Luc. Dandy gave her a quick look. She felt he could read the misery and fear in her face and hurriedly pulled herself together.
'Tea, princess,' he said, handing her a large bright yellow mug. She took it, murmuring a grateful word.
'That's my mug, princess,' he said, smiling.
'I'm honoured.'
'Not often I lend my mug to people,' he agreed. He sat down on the edge of her bunk and surveyed her. 'You look as if you need a good strong whisky rather than tea.'
'I don't drink,' she said, shaking her head.
His grin stretched from ear to ear. 'Something told me you might not—how old are you, ladybird?'
'Twenty.' His face tightened. 'Twenty,' he repeated, grimacing.
Lissa sipped her tea, not meeting his eyes. Dandy sighed. 'He's wild and sometimes he's reckless, but you can trust him,' he told her gently. 'I'd trust him to hell and back.'
'You're not a woman!'
Dandy laughed shortly. 'No. All the same, I've never known him hurt anybody if he could avoid it.'
Lissa remembered Luc's ruthless oppression of her body on deck earlier, the unleashed violence with which he had kissed her, and she didn't answer.
'He has a romantic streak,' Dandy went on slowly, it comes out in odd ways. When he gets bored with the city we take off like a bat out of hell and sail in search of excitement. Ever since he was a boy he's needed to find wider horizons. He generates a lot of adrenalin and he can't use enough of it in his work.'
'He does work?'
Dandy grinned, 'Like a dog for most of the year—a lot of people depend on him.
She swallowed. 'Is he married?'
'No,' Dandy said firmly, and she believed him.
Her body sagged in relief. She had been half afraid that Luc might well turn out to be married. 'What sort of work does he do?'
'Don't ask me,' said Dandy, shrugging. 'Tedious stuff in the City. I've never been involved in that side of his life. The wife and I run his home for him and when I'm not there, I'm on the boat. Luc keeps his own counsel. If he confides in me he's always very discreet.'
Lissa met his eyes wryly and knew that Luc had warned Dandy not to tell her anything. Dandy was lying when he said he didn't know anything about Luc's work.
He flushed slightly, getting up. 'I just wanted to tell you to trust him, princess. Luc doesn't like it when he isn't trusted. He has a lot of pride. Where his emotions are involved, he can be as stubborn as the devil.'
'Lucifer,' she said huskily.
Dandy laughed. 'That's what they call him—those who don't know him.'
'What about those who do know him?' Lissa asked with a painful little smile. 'What do they call him?'
Dandy laughed. 'I've called him every name under the sun,' he admitted, moving to the door. 'But I'd still trust him with my life.'
Would he trust Luc with his wife, though, Lissa thought, if his wife happened to be attractive? Dandy closed the door. She heard the key turn again. Whatever Dandy thought about Luc, he was still obeying his instructions. She had a strong idea that Dandy did not approve of the wry Luc was behaving, but he was doing as Luc ordered, all the same.
She read a paperback which she had found in the cabin. Time passed very slowly and the sea was getting rough, the wind howling around them as they battled their way through choppy seas.
It was one o'cloc
k when Dandy came back. 'Lunch time,’ he told her cheerfully. She followed him to the other cabin and found Luc there, pouring wine, the quick sideways glint of his blue eyes skating over her before he looked back at the glass he was filling.
When Dandy had served them and gone Luc watched Lissa picking at the food on her plate for a moment before he said curtly: 'Stop sulking.' 'I'm not.'
'A damned good imitation, then,' he flung back. 'You're here, and you're with me—and sulking isn't going to change a thing' He flung a hand towards her wine glass. 'Try some—it may soften you up a bit.' 'Trying to get me drunk?' she asked sarcastically. , 'Don't be so damned ridiculous,' Luc snapped. 'One glass of wine isn't going to make you keel over.'
She sipped the wine, avoiding his eyes. Luc waited for another moment then drank some of his own. 'Now eat,' he said roughly.
'I'm not very hungry.' She heard the intake of his breath and added quickly, 'I'm not! The sea's so rough.'
'It will get rougher, I'm afraid,' he said, glancing at the porthole. - Lissa bit her lower lip nervously. 'Will it?'
He gave her a sudden, gentle smile. 'Don't worry— we're safe enough. The boat's well stabilised. She'll weather the storm. We've been through worse than this, I assure you.' He dropped his eyes to her plate. 'Try to eat something, though. You'll find it helps to have food in your stomach.' His smile appeared again, amused and teasing. 'It settles you. Another form of stabilising.'
'I'm not sure I believe you,' she said wryly, but she forced herself to eat a little of the well-cooked food.
Luc allowed her to leave most of the meal. As they got up she said pleadingly: 'I'm so tired of being shut
in that cabin—can't I go on deck?'
'It's blowing a gale out there,' Luc pointed out,
'I'd rather be windblown than stuffy!'
He grinned. 'Hang on, then—I'll find you some waterproofs.' He vanished and came back with a vivid yellow waterproof jacket and hood. 'This should fit you.'
Lissa wriggled into it and he laughed at her as she tied the cords at the jacket neck. 'You look absurd,' he told her. 'It's far too big for you. But at least you'll be dry.'
They struggled up on deck to find the wind howling like a banshee and rain sleeting across their faces. The waterproof hung down below Lissa's knees and Luc roared with laughter at her as she fought her way around the deck, the wind tugging at the hood and blowing storm-tossed strands of her hair across her face.
After a few minutes Luc insisted that she had had enough and must go below again. 'You don't want to be sick,' he pointed out.
In her cabin she stripped off the waterproof and handed it to him. Her face was glowing with colour and heat, her hair a wild mop. Luc stood watching her as she brushed it into some semblance of tidiness.
He tossed the waterproof on a chair and moved behind her. In the small mirror their eyes met. Lissa looked at him warily, her body stiffening.
'Don't,' she begged.
He dropped his chin on her shoulder, his lips brushing her neck. 'Don't what?'
'Luc!'
'Mmm?' The slow sensual movement of his mouth was making her skin shiver with pleasure, and that made her angry.
She stepped away and his hands shot out to pull her back against him, his arms around her waist. She trembled as she felt the tense hardness of his body behind her.
'Stop fighting me, Lissa,' he murmured, burrowing his face into her hair until his mouth was sliding along her exposed nape. 'You don't hate it when I touch you. I know you say you do, but your body tells me something very different.' 'My body's a liar, then!' 'No, Lissa, you're the liar,' he retorted. She shook her head angrily. His hands slid up a second later and closed over her breasts in a possessive gesture, the exploring fingers making her heart beat far too fast and far too painfully.
'Let me go,' she whispered, pushing his hands down. Luc spun her violently and clamped her against him in a hard embrace she could not break, his thigh forced against her own, his hands on her back holding her captive.
Lissa's anger hardened inside her as she met the determined blue eyes. She stared back at him, her mouth straightening to a level, stubborn line, 'I won't go to bed with you, Luc. I ran away from Chris because I refused to let anyone manipulate me and use me, and
I'm not going to let you do it. Chris was never in love with me—he just wanted to take me to bed, too. He saw me as some sort of possession—a thing he wanted, which he was prepared to wait for if he had to—and you see me the same way, too. I'm sick of men grabbing at me! I'm a person, not a thing. I wasn't making idle threats about jumping overboard. I mean every word.' Her voice had risen and quickened as she spoke, her anger flooding her face with hot colour, her eyes burn-' ing. 'I'd rather be dead than find myself in your bed. The very idea makes me sick!'
Luc listened, watching her, his face tightening and chilling. When she had broken off the last words with a breathless half-sob he dropped his arms from around her and moved away. Lissa stood, shaking, rigid and cold. Luc walked to the door and opened it.
She watched him go out. The door shut. Lissa's rigidity collapsed in a storm of bitter, scalding tears.
She stood with her hands over her face, weeping helplessly.
She had meant everything she said to him, but she still felt drained and sick at having had to say it. Luc had not protested at her accusation that he didn't love her. He had had that muh honesty. If she had let him talk her into bed she would have hated herself later and she was glad he had gone. Her tears were inexplicable.
CHAPTER NINE
The weather worsened as they moved deeper into the Atlantic. Lissa had to stay in her cabin, but now it was not because Luc insisted on it but because she was too sick to move from her bunk.
Luc took the mountainous seas and fierce gales in his stride. Lissa had somehow expected him to be impatient with her over her illness, but he was gentle and sympathetic during the whole period. When she whispered an apology to him he smiled at her, shaking his head. 'Don't be silly. It happens to us all.'
It did not happen to him. His skin was as cool and his eyes as clear as ever. Lissa envied him his ability to survive the rolling and tossing of the boat.
She had never felt so dreadful in her whole life. She lay in her bunk, feverish, her head thudding like a hammer, the cabin swirling around her. Luc was with her a good deal of the time. When he left, Dandy appeared. There was comfort in having someone with her and she lost all consciousness of Luc except as the man who dealt calmly with her appalling sickness, wiped her hot face with a damp cool flannel, murmured soothingly to her when she cried afterwards.
Later, she never knew how long that period lasted. She slept finally for hours and while she was asleep the yacht passed into quiet waters and the winds and rain vanished.
When she did open her eyes again, the cabin lay still and calm around her. Sunlight gleamed on the polished wood surfaces. Lissa lay and felt the gentle rocking of the boat. She was empty and drained yet oddly content, languidly unwilling to move.
Suddenly she heard an eerie shriek and sat up, startled. The porthole was briefly darkened by the flash of a wing.
Gulls, she thought in astonishment, and slid out of the bunk. As she padded to look out, the door opened behind her. She looked over her shoulder and Luc gave her a smile.
'You're awake! How do you feel?'
'Much better, thank you. I thought I heard a gull.'
'I expect you did—there's one circling around us and hoping for something to eat.'
'Are we near land?' she asked.
'That depends what you call near. I suppose we're around fifty miles off Plymouth.'
She felt shock streak along her nerves. 'Oh,' she said weakly, and a grey depression came down over her. Soon she would be able to leave the yacht, say goodbye to Luc and his threatening attentions and she told herself she was relieved. The peculiar sick misery in the pit of her stomach was merely alarm at the prospect of finding a job, somewhere to live,
facing a new life.
Luc was watching her, his face unreadable.
She suddenly realised that she was in the thick flannel pyjama jacket which Dandy had lent her when her own nightclothes ran out during her sickness. The jacket was massive, far too big for her, and she felt ridiculous in it. She climbed back into the bunk, very flushed.
Luc gave a sudden grin. 'What's up now? After nursing you for the last few days it's a bit late for you to become prudish.'
'I feel like a clown in this jacket,' she said wryly. He laughed. 'You look very appealing in it.' She pleated the sheet with her fingers. 'Thank you for being so kind and understanding when I was ill. I'm sorry I was such a nuisance to you.'
'You weren't a nuisance,' Luc said flatly. 'Thank you, anyway.' She glanced up at him. 'When will we get to England?'
'Tomorrow.' He said the word shortly. 'You've got your passport?'
She nodded. 'My father made sure I kept a British passport and I've always renewed it when it ran out.'
'Good. That should make it easier.' Luc paused. 'What plans did you have for when we arrive? Have you any relatives in England?'
'None that I know of,' she said slowly. 'I shall go to London and try to get a. job.'
'You have some money with you?' She chewed her lower lip, flushing. 'A little.' 'How much?'
She shrugged. 'Enough to keep me until I find a job.' 'How much?' he insisted.
When she told him he stared at her and gave a short, angry bark of laughter. 'My God, girl, that won't keep you for more than two days in London!' 'I'll manage,' she muttered, her head bent. 'You've no idea what you're talking about,' Luc shot back at her tersely. 'London isn't a little village, you know. You're in for quite a cultural shock when you first arrive and being penniless into the bargain will make it worse.'
'I thought I could get work in a hotel,' said Lissa, still not looking at him. 'Alter all, that will give me somewhere to live, and I do know all about hotels.'
Luc moved to the porthole and stared out, his hands thrust into his pockets. 'I can't let you wander off alone.'
'I'm responsible for myself!'
He laughed harshly. 'I wish I could believe that. You'd walk straight into some sort of fix and I'd go crazy not knowing what was happening to you.’
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