Authors: Stella Whitelaw
Twenty-Five
Kira tried not to panic. The familiar rooftops and receding tree line that hid Fitt’s House were already some distance away.
She trod water, calling and waving her hands, but her voice was lost in the roar of the waves. She knew that if she kept her head, she would be safe. It was exhaustion and panic which killed swimmers in warm water.
The sea was indigo dark now and lights were coming on in the small houses fronting the shore. She called again, hoping that someone might be taking an evening stroll, or jogging along the beach. She tried swimming against the current but it was very strong, running parallel to the shore, and she could not make any headway through its racing flow.
Waves were breaking on rocks ahead, foaming white. The reef was approaching fast. A piercing stab of cramp caught her lame leg and she cried out in pain, clutching the muscle. In the confusion as she thrashed around, she did not hear the vigorous splashing of someone swimming.
A cropped dark head bobbed from under the water and then a gleaming sinewy arm came under her armpits and she felt herself being pulled against a chest. It was a strong man, young and confident. Kira screwed up her face in pain and relief.
"Keep still, lady. Don’t be afraid. It’s only Moonshine. You gonna be all right now."
Kira bit her lip against the cramp and allowed Moonshine to pull her. He was not swimming but letting the current take them along, drifting parallel to the shore, making a few deep strokes now and then to correct their direction and keep the same distance. She tried to relax, trusting him, not wanting to hinder his progress. How strange that it was Moonshine, the handsome and persuasive youth selling beads on the beach.
"You were caught in a rip current, lady," he said hoarsely, looking round the surface of the sea for signs of turbulence. He seemed to know what he was doing. "You have to swim along with it, not against it. You gonna drown if you go against it. You swim along with it and sooner or later, it gonna take you back to the beach."
It was true. The beach seemed to be getting nearer. A great surge of relief swept through her. Their feet suddenly touched sand and rocks and they began to scramble ashore, uncaring of the sharp edges scraping skin, stabbing toes. Moonshine kept her from falling with a firm grip on her waist.
"Oh Moonshine, Moonshine, thank you. What would I have done without you?" she gasped. "I was being swept out to sea and I didn’t know what to do. No-one could hear me. It was so frightening."
"These rip currents just pop up. You don’t know where; change from day to day. I saw you go swimming and thought there’s that pretty English lady who’s going around with Mr Giles. You didn’t come back and I thought she dun go get caught in a rip current. Then I saw you being swept towards the reef."
His muscular legs stood astride on the sand, chest heaving, water dripping down his ragged jeans. His dark, velvety eyes gleamed in the growing darkness but Kira was not afraid.
"How lucky for me you came along," she said, her rapid breathing slowing down. "I couldn’t have swum back from Bridgetown."
He peered down at her face. "You all right now? We go pick up your towel, then I take you back to Mr Reed’s house."
Kira felt almost light-headed with relief. She laughed. "To Fitt’s House? Is there anything that you don’t know about?"
He grinned in the darkness. "Moonshine know everything."
Her heart volunteered an extra beat. "Then you can put it on the island’s grapevine that I’m not going around with Mr Giles. I’m working for him. Quite different. It’s a business arrangement."
"If you ain’t going around with Mr Giles then he’s certainly acting as if you are. He’s charging along the beach now faster than that zippy white car of his." Moonshine peered ahead into the darkness, grinning.
The air was moist and briny, saturated with moonlight. Kira saw a tall man, striding along the beach, kicking up sand, looking for her as that first time on St Lucia. Her heart almost stopped, then quickened at the sight of him. Wild and lonely music played in her ears. There was going to be no problem after all, seeing him again. Her eyes were riveted on the man coming into sight, the gaunt lines of his face etched in the glitter of the sea. She stumbled on the clogging sand and he ran forward, catching her in his arms before she fell.
"Kira, Kira
. . . what the hell’s been going on? Are you all right? Benjamin said you’d gone for a swim."
"I got caught by a rip current. Moonshine saved me." Her head was spinning as she felt his arms go round her.
"Damn it, woman. Don’t you know not to swim in the dark alone? I should have told you about rip currents."
"I been telling the lady," said Moonshine. "You don’t get drowned by them if you know what to do."
"She didn’t know what to do."
Giles swung her up into his arms and began to carry her back to Fitt’s House. Moonshine was left behind on the sand, standing in dripping blue jeans, his case of beads flung all over the sand in his haste to dive into the sea to rescue her.
"Moonshine," Giles called back to the youth. "Come and see me tomorrow. I’ll settle up for the damage to your goods. And thanks for saving my lady."
Giles’s voice was gruff. Moonshine waved back. He had some tale to tell in the bars tonight and that was reward enough. "Don’t worry, be happy," he called back with the Caribbean farewell.
"Thank you, Moonshine," said Kira.
Kira lay her head against Giles’s shirt front, ruining it with her wet hair. He didn’t care. He gripped her tightly as if she was the slipperiest mermaid from the sea.
"Don’t start telling me off," she said.
"I won’t. You didn’t know about the currents."
"No, I didn’t know," she murmured.
He was carrying her like thistledown and Kira never wanted the sensation to end. He could carry her to the end of the island. She didn’t care how many women he had had or loved; she only knew that the thought of losing him now was unbearable.
He set her slowly down onto her feet, wrapped her towel round her shivering body like a baby, drying her arms and legs. He was not angry. All the anger of the night before had gone, vanished in a wave of warmth and awareness.
"It would be a change to see you dry," he said, with ironic reference. He held the edges of the towel close, pulling her against him, his fingers brushing the soft skin below her throat. "Do you think you could manage it one day?"
"Are you going to dry all of me?" she asked, moving closer to him.
"Kira, don’t
. . . I could go out of my mind. You’re driving me crazy."
Kira looked up, seeing the angle of his darkened jaw from below. The planes of his face were hawk-like and dominant, the jutting brows hiding the expression in his dark eyes. She remembered their closeness last night in the ruined sug
ar mill, and hungered for more.
The air was heavy with scented blossom and the stars were struggling with the inky darkness. The moon shone through the clouds like a pirate’s silver coin broken in half.
Her swimsuit was wet and clammy cold but she could not stop herself. She stood on tiptoe, quickly twining her arms around his neck and pulling his head down to hers. She brushed her lips across his mouth and heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Driving you crazy? Am I?" she whisper
ed, husky and low. "Like this?"
She did not care if he thought she was wanton; she had to feed her need on him and it was a lure that was too strong to resist. Her eyes were glowing with love. There was no argument now between her hurt-sadden
ed eyes and ever-smiling mouth.
His chin grazed her smooth cheek but she knew with that slight movement that his mouth was parting, would soon be claiming her lips. In one swift moment, a fiery desire ignited and burned through their bodies. The straps of her swimsuit slipped down her shoulders and her breasts were crushed against him. She felt his fingers biting into the soft flesh of her arms.
"Giles, forgive me for last night. I was a fool, frightened of my feelings. They were so strong. So much was struggling inside. I know I’m not saying it right but I’m not frightened anymore."
A wild, unreasoning elation pushed aside the last shreds of commonsense. She was tired of being careful and sensible. And she was tired of being hostage to the past. She might get hurt again. Giles might love her briefly and then move on but it was a risk she was prepared to take for this one moment. Life was made of moments and this was one that she would treasure.
If it was soon over, then it did not matter. She wanted him to love her now, to bring her body alive, to be satiated with pleasure, to make her see stars in the darkness. It was a present to herself and she thought she deserved some happiness. After all these barren months, she wanted him to love her, even if it never happened again.
Her hands slid round his back, feeling the ridge of his spine through the thin jacket, pulling him close. The shape of his lips was well-remembered and beloved. Fleetingly she thought of Bruce’s boyish kisses, but the memory was so weak that it vanished as if they had never kissed. There was no comparison. This was a man. This was a man who knew how to kiss, who was coaxing her with gentle persuasion into a fever of delight.
Giles was murmuring against her lips, words of love, endearments, small tender names that sent her sailing on a cloud of singular sweetness. His hands were deep in her tangled hair. She would never forget this moment; nothing would ever be so perfect.
"Are you sure, Kira? Is this what you want?"
Giles had wanted her almost since the first moment of meeting at St Lucia. The lovely, curve of her mouth fascinated him and he had lost himself in her amazing eyes. The fierceness of his longing had been tormenting him for days. He longed to get rid of the last barriers between them, to stroke every inch of her beautiful body, to sweet-taste her skin, to become the centre of her being, of her life.
The strength of his feelings had shattered him. It made him fight her with words at every opportunity, when all he really wanted to do was to make love to her with all the passion stored inside him. An uncontrollable storm was building up in his hard body.
Long shadows of fringed palm leaves were thrown against the vibrating starlight of the sky. The waves broke softly on the shore in a low, passionate lullaby. The wind fluttered seductively through the heat of their bodies like extra fingers.
He was kissing her with a lingering, pulsing drive that had her thoughts spinning helplessly. His voice was husky with hunger and the words were a melody in her ears. Her abandoned response sent them both revolving into a dizzy world where the sky and stars were all mixed up into a crazy, climbing pinnacle of pleasure that neither of them could control.
They lay tangled on the sand, arms and legs entwined. He was slowly slipping the straps from her shoulders, pulling down her wet swimsuit. It was not easy and Kira felt a small bubble of laughter at his efforts. She rolled away to give him space.
"I have to tell you something," said Kira. Afterwards, she could not understand why she had done it. "I have to be honest with you. It’s something you ought to know."
"No, Kira, no confessions now. I don’t care how many lovers you’ve had. This is you and me, here and now. The past doesn’t matter."
"It’s not about the past. It’s the present, about Benjamin Reed," she hesitated, not able to stop.
"Oh no, not that old man." He paused and lay back as he had done the night before, breathing heavily. "Forget him, Kira. He’s a pain, a thorn in my flesh that I have to put up with."
"He’s my grandfather," said Kira. "I think you ought to know."
The palm leaves wept.
"What did you say?" His voice had gone cold.
"I am Benjamin’s granddaughter. Only he doesn’t know yet. I haven’t told him. I don’t know what he would think."
She heard Giles’s slow intake of breath. Her hands began to tremble. She had a glimpse of a terrible pain in his eyes. His face was a mask. What had she done?
"You mean Tamara was your mother?"
Kira was alarmed by the change which had come over Giles. She wished she had not said anything but it had seemed important to be one hundred per cent honest with him. There had been a slight chance he might even be amused.
"Yes," she said, bewildered. "Tamara was my mother, his daughter. Does it make any difference?"
Giles exploded, hitting the sand with his fist. "Does it make any difference, woman! Don’t you understand anything? Don’t you know?"
"No, I don’t," Kira said, struggling to defend herself. "I know you and Benjamin don’t get on well but that shouldn’t change how we feel. Surely it doesn’t matter? It’s an old, ancient feud between your father and Benjamin, and should have been decently buried a long time ago. It’s nothing to do with us."
"It has everything to do with us," he said, standing up and brushing sand off his jacket. "Ask Benjamin. Get up, Kira. I’ll see you back to your grandfather’s house. No doubt he’s anxious about your long absence."
"You can’t mean this?" Kira was angry now. She scrambled to her knees, roughly pulling up the straps of her swimsuit. She shivered. "Giles, what’s the matter? This is ridiculous. You’re not being fair to me. You’ve got to tell me what this is all about."