Devil and the Deep Sea (7 page)

ensuring, as manager, that it does so, you will begin to pay off the

money you owe me.' He gave Clyde a long, level look. 'When the

debt has been satisfied, you will be free to leave, if you wish. But

not until then. And do not imagine you can cheat me. I imagine you

know the attorney Philip Marquis on Alliance Street?
Eh bien,
he is

to act as my agent in this matter. That is all.'

'It's not even the beginning,' Clyde said thickly, banging the table

with his fist. 'I'm not acting as your unpaid servant. I can pay you

off here and now, friend, and Mr Baxter here is prepared to make

you a good offer for the hotel.'

Roche Delacroix shrugged. 'I am not open to offers. Monsieur

Baxter's intervention is unnecessary. Nor is it certain you will be

able to count on his generosity.'

'He can count on me for anything he likes,' Hugo Baxter declared,

darting a look at Samma.

Roche Delacroix smiled. 'Even when I tell you that Mademoiselle

Briant is coming with me?' he asked softly.

Hugo Baxter uttered an obscenity. He turned on Clyde. 'What's he

talking about? You swore she'd stay here—that you'd talked her

round. What the hell are you trying to pull?'

Clyde's face was grey. He stared at Samma. 'Is this—true?'

'Yes,' she said with a little sigh. There was no retreat now. Roche

took her hand, and carried it swiftly and gracefully to his lips.

'You dirty little slag,' Hugo Baxter said hoarsely. 'Always too pure

and high and mighty to give me a second look. But you'll go off

with a man you only met last night. I always knew under that

touch-me-not air you were a whore, like all the rest of them!'

The words made her cringe, but she was in no position to deny

them, she thought wretchedly.

Roche said icily, 'Any more filth from your lips,
monsieur,
and you

will go to be cleansed in the harbour.' His face was granite-hard as

he looked at Baxter. 'Don't judge everyone by your own standards,

you animal. Samantha is to be my employee, not my mistress. She

is coming to Grand Cay to take charge of my young daughter.'

It was as if a bombshell had hit them, and Samma felt her own jaw

dropping as well. Was he serious? she wondered dazedly. Did he

really have a daughter? Until that moment, she'd had no idea he was

even married. And, if he'd intended all along for her to be some

kind of governess, why had he let her think—let her think . . .? She

bent her head and stared at the floor, furiously aware that he was

watching her, his mouth twisting in amusement.

'You can, of course, reject my offer completely,' Roche went on

calmly, addressing Clyde. 'In which case, you no longer have a roof

over your head, or any form of livelihood. I do not advise you to

take up gambling as a profession,' he added dispassionately. 'You

are neither lucky, nor always wise in your choice of opponents.' He

sent a dry look towards Hugo Baxter.

Baxter began to bluster. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

'Only,
monsieur,
that if some ill wind should bring you to Grand

Cay, do not trouble yourself to visit my casino. You will not be

admitted.' He looked at his watch, then glanced back at Clyde.

'Your decision,
monsieur.
I have no more time to waste on you.'

There was a long fraught silence, then Clyde said heavily, 'I

agree—I suppose.'

'Very wise.' Roche rose to his feet. 'I will not detain either of you

any longer. Jerome is waiting to escort you off my boat. In a few

days' time, Philip Marquis will call on you with the requisite papers

for your signature. I advise you not to cause him any problems.
Mes

adieux.'

Allegra
sailed an hour later. Samma sat slumped on the seat in the

cabin, staring into space, barely aware of the powerful engine

which was carrying her away to Lucifer's Cay.

'Don't you want to say farewell to Cristoforo?' Roche had come

back into the saloon so noiselessly, she hadn't been conscious of his

approach.

She started nervously, and swallowed. 'No. I—I never want to see

it again.'

'Then you don't have to.' He walked to one of the lockers, and she

heard the chink of a bottle against glass. He returned with a

measure of amber liquid in a tumbler, which he handed to her.

'Drink this,' he directed briefly. 'You look as if you need it, and then

I'll tell you fully what I want from you.'

She swallowed some of the cognac. It felt like fire in her throat, but

it put heart into her. 'Won't your wife have something to say about

you hiring a total stranger as a governess without consulting her?'

'My wife has been dead for over a year.'

Biting her lip, Samma began to say something awkwardly, and he

held up a silencing hand. 'There is no need to express regret.

Marie-Christine and I did not enjoy a day's happiness together, and

parted immediately after the honeymoon, so don't pity me as a

grieving widower. For seven years we lived completely separate

lives, then she arrived unexpectedly on Grand Cay, bringing
la

petite
Solange with her.'

'She wanted a reconciliation?'

His mouth curled. 'She wanted richer pickings than the maintenance

payments her lawyers had exacted from me. She had not prospered

during our separation. So—she moved into Belmanoir, my family

home, and I occupied a suite at the casino, and life went on much as

before, except that now there was Solange.'

'You hadn't seen her—had access to her?'

'I never sought it. I had put my so-called marriage behind me as a

hideous mistake, best forgotten. But when I saw the child, I realised

she needed a father.'

'You're very cold-blooded about it,' Samma said indignantly.

'You think so?' His brows rose consideringly. 'But then, I married

Marie-Christine in an excess of hot-blooded passion, and that

taught me a valuable lesson.' He paused. 'But I have tried to do my

best for Solange. I have hired other companions for her, but

unfortunately few of them have remained for any length of time.'

'Why not?'

He shrugged. 'For a number of reasons. Solange is not an easy

child, and Belmanoir itself is remote, cut off from the social life of

St Laurent, the capital.' He paused. 'And some of these ladies had a

regrettable tendency to believe that—I was the one in need of

companionship.'

Samma took another hurried sip of brandy.

'Unlike you,
cherie,
' he went on, mockingly. 'Who came to me only

with a pistol at your head.'

She said stiltedly, 'Why didn't you tell me—what you really

wanted?'

'Because you made me angry.' The dark eyes met hers implacably.

'You were so ready to believe I was just another womaniser with an

eye for a pretty blonde. So—I decided to let you suffer a little.' He

smiled. 'And you did suffer, didn't you,
ma belle?'

She stared at him for a long moment, then said, 'You mean that,

when you told me to—undress, you were just punishing me again?'

'The slapping I administered seemed to have had little effect,' he

said coolly. 'I thought I would try other tactics.'

She went on looking at him. 'But you didn't know that radio

message was going to come through just then. You couldn't have

done. So—if there'd been no message—when would

the—punishment have stopped precisely?'

'It would not have stopped.' His dark gaze touched her mouth,

lingered there in reminiscence. 'Nor would you have wished it to,'

he added almost casually.

In the silence that followed, Samma could hear the beating of her

heart like thunder in her own ears. She tried to think of something

equally blasé to reply and failed completely.

Roche watched her mental struggles with amusement. 'Also,
cherie,

I needed to gauge just how desperate you were in your resolve to

leave Cristoforo. Because I must tell you now, I did not speak the

whole truth to your
beau-pere
and that other one. An employee is

no longer sufficient for my purpose. You are coming to Grand Cay

as my wife.'

There was another stunned silence. Samma said breathlessly. 'You

want me to—marry you? But I couldn't . . .'

'I regret you have no choice in the matter,' he cut incisively across

her stumbling words. 'You are not the only one to have reached a

crisis in your affairs. Marie-Christine's parents are making a belated

but sustained effort to gain the custody of Solange. Not out of

affection, you understand, but because they would enjoy the

allowance the court would exact on her behalf. This is not going to

happen.'

'But surely they have no grounds for such a thing?'

'I am prepared to take no risks with Solange's future,' he said

quietly. 'The Augustins have compiled a dossier on my

shortcomings as a father for a young girl. It complains of my

frequent absences from home on business, the fact that much of my

income is derived from the casino, and also that Solange lacks a

stable female influence in her life. All these charges have some

foundation.'

'And you think if you can produce a wife—any wife, they'll

just—go away?'

'No, that would be naive. But a large part of their case would

instantly cease to exist.' The dark eyes bored into hers. 'You

promised me a year of your life. This is the form it will take.' His

mouth curled slightly. 'To use an expression which may be familiar

to you, Samantha, you have made your bed, and now you must lie

on it. I do not, however, insist that you lie upon it with me.'

She said shakily, 'I don't understand any of this.'

'Next year, Solange will be old enough to go away to school, to the

most respectable convent I can find for her. And then you will also

be free to live your life in any way you wish—anywhere you wish. I

am offering you a business arrangement, no more. You will not be a

wife to me in any real sense at all, if that is the assurance you need.'

He added, flatly, 'Nervous virgins are not to my taste.'

'So—we just—pretend?' The memory of that slow, sensuous kiss

was still burning a hole in her brain.

'There will naturally have to be a ceremony. Fortunately, our local

laws impose no unnecessary hold-ups. If you agree, my attorney

can make the necessary arrangements before we even arrive on

Grand Cay.

Just like that, Samma thought, hysteria bubbling inside her. All cut

and dried.

'And you think your—in-laws will be satisfied with this—charade?'

'They will not be satisfied in the least,' he said -coldly. 'They are,

like their daughter, selfish, greedy and deceitful. And they imagine

that, knowing this, I would allow Solange to go to them?
Pauvre

petite,
it is not her fault . . .'

He stopped abruptly, and she gave him a questioning look. 'What

isn't her fault?'

'That my relationship with her mother was a disaster,' he said curtly,

but Samma was left with the odd feeling this was not what he'd

originally started to say.

'And when the year is up, you'll let me go?' She was still trying to

make sense of it all. 'Isn't Solange still rather young to be sent away

to school like that?'

His brows snapped together. '1 need you to play the part of my

wife,
mademoiselle,
not advise me on my child's upbringing. You

are, after all, scarcely more than a child yourself. When your year

with us is over, you will still be young enough to train for some

profession—teaching perhaps, as you once intended. Naturally, I

will pay for this training, and in addition you will receive the usual

alimony.' He paused. 'A new life for your old one, Samantha. Is a

year really so much to ask?'

'I don't know.' Her hands twisted together. 'It's all been such a

shock. I must have time . . .'

'There is no time. Tomorrow we will arrive on Grand Cay, and I

expect our marriage to take place at once.' He leaned back, studying

her through half closed eyes. 'What is the matter? Are my terms not

reasonable enough?' His mouth curled. 'And is it not a relief to find

you have nothing to fear from my unbridled lusts, after all?'

She looked back at him coolly. 'Because Solange will be there to

act as chaperon?'

'No,' he said, briefly. 'Because I have a mistress already. Is that

enough for you?'

It seemed more than enough, Samma thought, swallowing the rest