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“How about some coffee?” he said, and Lorna blushed as she realised he was as good as telling her to get out while he changed. “You’ll find everything you need through there,” nodding towards the galley.

In a few minutes the water had boiled and when Lorna returned Ashley had changed into dark sweater and pants and his hair was neatly groomed. He looked very handsome and very masculine, and Lorna’s heart skipped a beat as she passed his coffee and their fingers touched for one electric second—much to her own annoyance. How could she react like this when she detested him? Vexation made her speak more sharply than she intended. “Where did you disappear to? I’ve searched everywhere.”

His eyebrows rose sceptically. “I thought you didn’t want my company—or was I mistaken?”

“I—I didn’t say that.”

“No?” His eyes glinted darkly. “You said you didn’t trust me—so I thought I’d better keep away. I was on the other side of the island when the rain started. I thought you’d have had the sense to find shelter.”

“So I would—had I been awake,” retorted Lorna.

He put down his cup and moved across to the bunk where she sat, an enigmatic gleam in his eye. “And now?” His voice soft in her ear. “Do you still distrust me?”

He was deliberately taunting her, Lorna knew, and shifted uncomfortably. “W-why should I? If you’d wanted to take advantage you’d have done so by now.”

“I would?”

“We—ell, I think so.”

“But you’re not sure?”

“Er—”

“Of course you’re not sure !” His voice rose angrily. “I’ve never taken advantage of a woman in my life, and I’m damn sure I’m not going to start now. I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m some sort of woman-eater, but you can start right now and forget it. Do you hear?” His fingers gripped her arm tightly, causing her cup to tremble in its saucer. He took it from her and placed it on the cupboard beside his own. There was a disturbing light in the depths of his eyes and he looked at her for a long second before turning away.

“For God’s sake drink your coffee and let’s get some sleep,” he said thickly. He pulled two blankets from a drawer beneath his bunk and saw that Lorna was comfortable before dragging the other one over himself.

The rain beat an incessant tattoo on top of the cabin, echoing in Lorna’s heart as she tried to sleep. Ashley’s mood disturbed her. If he had been the type of man she thought would he have behaved so honourably as he did now? She knew the answer, but was afraid to admit she might have been wrong.

Very dimly, a mere arm’s length away, she could see the outline of his body. He lay very still and straight, but she could tell from his breathing that he was not asleep and she wondered what he was thinking. Was it about her? She knew the struggle he had had with himself a few short minutes ago and despite her earlier accusation admired him for it. Did he now regret bringing her to Paradise? Was he having second thoughts about trying to persuade her that she loved him? And more important still, what were her own feelings? If she was honest with herself she would admit that deep down she still loved him. But she would not concede this, even to her inner self.

There was so much she didn’t understand. So much to be thrashed out before she could allow her emotions full rein. And unless she met him half way what chance was there of ever discussing her problems? Ashley was not even aware they existed. He knew she doubted his morals—but that was all. He had no idea her own sister was involved—or that she had overheard his conversation with Avril. This was what had hurt most of all. She had been more or less prepared to forget her previous distrust when she heard him confess that he had taken her out because she, Lorna, expected it and he didn’t want to hurt her. That was the hardest blow of the lot and one she would find very difficult to forgive.

Eventually Lorna slept. But even then she was disturbed by a wild dream about Ashley.

They were exploring the island together, hand in hand and very much in love. Suddenly Lorna saw a vivid green field with a narrow path winding its way across to a little stone cottage on the far side. She ran on ahead. Ashley called out something, but the breeze carried away his words. Turning, she laughed and beckoned him to join her. As he came nearer he tripped. The beautiful green field became an evil-smelling swamp which sucked Ashley down into its murky depths. She screamed and tried to reach him, but although their fingers touched she was unable to pull him out. “Ashley!” she screamed as the mud began to close over his head. “Ashley!
Ashley
!”

And then she woke, and his arms were round her. Wide-eyed, she looked at him, still trembling from the effects of the dream. “My darling,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead. “It’s all right now. You’re safe with me.”

“Oh, it was horrible,” she sobbed, pressing her face against his shoulder. “I was so frightened.”

He held her close. “It’s all over now. You needn’t be afraid any longer.”

“You were drowning—in a swamp,” she whispered convulsively. “And I couldn’t reach you.”

“And that bothered you?” His voice was faint. Lorna nodded dumbly and when his arms tightened she did not resist. Groaning her name hoarsely, he buried his face in her hair—and then his lips sought hers. How it happened she did not know, but Lorna found herself responding in a way she had never thought possible. Her arms wound involuntarily round his neck and his kisses became more urgent, demanding, leaving her mouth at one time to explore the soft hollow of her neck and then returning passionately to part her lips beneath his.

For a spell time was forgotten and Lorna surrendered completely. It was Ashley who dragged himself suddenly away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, running his fingers wildly through his hair. “That was unforgivable of me. I took advantage. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Lorna shook her head. “I’m as much to blame. I could have stopped you.”

“No. It was unfair.” He banged his fist on the cupboard with such violence that the cups rattled in their saucers. “It’s stopped raining now. I’m going up for some air. It won’t be long before dawn. Try to sleep. I’ll take you back home in the morning.”

Back to Verva! Lorna realised in a sudden blinding flash that she didn’t want to go. His kisses had awoken in her the love she had tried so hard to suppress. She wanted to run after him, talk this thing over. It couldn’t end here, now, like this. But she knew he was in no mood for listening. She must wait. In the morning she could tackle him, ask' him outright what he had meant when speaking to Avril. She ought to have questioned him before instead of harbouring her thoughts and letting them grow and fester like an open wound. But tomorrow they would sort out her problems—all would be well.

Dawn was breaking when Lorna again woke up. For a second she wondered where she was, before remembering the scene that had taken place last night. She turned her head. Ashley’s bunk was empty, his blanket neatly folded on top. The cups had disappeared, so too, had their wet clothes. Her suitcase stood nearby.

Raising herself on one elbow, Lorna looked through the porthole. Not a thing stirred. As she watched the sun rose and the colour gradually soaked back into the landscape. The birds heralded the dawn with their morning chorus, but of Ashley there was no sign.

Quickly she washed, donned white trousers and shirt, which had kept miraculously dry, and ran up on deck. It was empty, and unaccountably she felt disappointed. She had rehearsed what she was going to say to him this morning. She had planned not to let him see straight away that she returned his love, but after—after they had talked, she would tell him. She had imagined his joy, then the ultimate delight of being together for all time.

But now, where was he? Why wasn’t he here, waiting? Waiting to take her back to Verva if nothing else. Rolling up her trouser legs, Lorna climbed nimbly over the side and waded through the cool, green water. Not sure which way to go, she headed towards the mountain spring. It was then that she saw him. He had his back to her, one shoulder pressed against the drunken bole of a palm tree, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders drooping uncharacteristically.

He turned as she approached, his eyes vague and shadowed, tired lines etched round his mouth. “Are you ready?” he asked, in a voice completely devoid, of feeling.

“Ashley!” Lorna touched his arm, concern uppermost in her mind. He looked haunted, as though he had had a fight with his inner self—and lost.

He moved away. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to stay here a moment longer.”

“But there are things we must discuss,” protested Lorna, standing in front of him. “Last night I—”

“Last night was a mistake,” he interrupted tersely, “and one I’m not likely to repeat.”

“And if I say I didn’t mind?”

“I shan’t believe you. You’ve made it perfectly clear what you think of me. Last night was—was reaction from a bad dream. It could happen to anyone.”

“But you
must
believe 'me!” Lorna was adamant. “I enjoyed your kisses, Ashley. Do you understand? I enjoyed them. Surely you know what that means?”

He looked at her sadly. “You’re a woman—and responded like any other woman would in the circumstances, that’s all. You can’t read any more into it than that.”

“You won’t believe that I’ve changed my mind about you? That I’m prepared to listen to your side of the story?” Lorna felt near to tears. It had taken her so long to come to her senses and now he was refusing to listen.

“At this stage? No. I’m sorry. I’ve at last come to the conclusion that I’ve been banging my head against a brick wall. The sooner I get you back to Verva the better.”

“But I don’t want to go back to Verva.”

He looked at her darkly. “Nor Pieter?”

“Oh, to hell with Pieter,” she snapped. “You may as well know, I never was going to marry him. It’s my sister he’s engaged to.”

“Margo!” he said softly, watching closely for her reaction.

She visibly started. “You know?” How long had he known? Why hadn’t he said so before instead of letting her carry on with the impression that she herself was marrying Pieter? What must he think of her?

Smiling grimly, he nodded. “I realised you were related when I saw her with Pieter boarding the plane for Mombasa—Oh, yes. You don’t think I’d have sent him without checking whether or not he went? But I thought maybe she’d come over for your wedding. What puzzles me is why you went to such lengths to hide the fact from me that she was your sister?”

Unable to stop herself, Lorna snapped, “Because you jilted her. And I didn’t want you to find out where she was and hurt her again.”

“You think I did that?” Ashley’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, 'God ! This is too ridiculous for words. You profess to have changed your mind? That’s the understatement of the year. You’ve got it firmly fixed into your head that I’m the lowest of the low because of some damn fool story Margo told you, and nothing will alter it.”

Lorna stepped back under this unexpected tirade. “But I—I—”

“Never mind the excuses,” he continued. “Let me tell you something now. For the first time in my life I’ve been foolish enough to fall in love. Now it’s
my
turn to change my mind.” He walked a few yards away. “Are you coming, or do I have to leave you here?”

Tears pricked the back of Lorna’s eyes and she turned blindly away. Too late she had realised how much Ashley meant to her—and now she had lost him! He had tried hard enough to win her love. She could not blame him for feeling as he did.

Pride refused to let her plead any more and so that he should not see her distress she plunged unseeing and uncaring into the densely wooded slopes of the mountain, not stopping until sure she was out of sight. Then she sank trembling to her knees, allowing the scalding tears to fall freely, aware now of the hurt Ashley must have felt when
she
rejected him.

She listened in case he followed, but all was silent save for her own laboured breathing, and the birds, who carried on their cheerful whistling as though nothing at all had happened. “You don’t care that my heart’s just been broken.” she whispered fiercely to a bulbul who peered inquisitively from a clump of foliage, his scruffy crest feathers giving him a rakish air that reminded her painfully of Ashley. “Oh, go away!” she hissed, flapping her hand, and protesting noisily he disappeared, leaving Lorna alone with her thoughts.

Humiliated at having her attempts to make amends flung back into her face, Lorna did not know what to do. She couldn’t stay on Paradise, that much was certain. She would have to return to Verva with Ashley, but at the moment she did not feel like facing him. She wondered how long he would wait, whether he was even now sitting on the
Poiret
or if he would come searching.

It was then that her thoughts turned to Margo and the condemning words spoken by Ashley. Not for the first time Lorna began to wonder whether her sister had exaggerated her affair, whether in fact Ashley was not as much to blame as she had made out. Fay had suggested this when they first met, but Lorna had deliberately rejected the idea. Now she was uncomfortably aware that things were not perhaps all they had seemed. If this was the case, no wonder Ashley was annoyed. He must have thought she was making a lot of fuss about nothing.

Sadly she continued her climb, determined to have a talk with Margo when she returned to Verva and find out once and for all what had really happened. Not that it would do her any good now. Ashley had made it quite clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her.

At the top of the plateau Lorna paused, looking back towards the bay where the
Poiret
was moored. She could see Ashley, a solitary figure on the beach. As she watched he made his way towards the boat and very faintly she heard the engines burst into life. Then slowly it moved away. Lorna bit her lip. So he wasn’t waiting after all! He didn’t even want to see her again. She swallowed the sudden constricting lump in her throat. No doubt he would send someone for her— but need he be so cruel? It was like giving someone a kick when they were already down.

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