Storm Cycle

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Storm Cycle Page 11

by Margaret Pargeter


  'I almost decided not to mention it,' she wished now she hadn't. 'What happened doesn't make me feel very proud of myself.'

  'Probably not,' he broke in curtly, 'but I wasn't talking about last night. I was referring to the way you've gone back to using my surname. What's wrong with Reece?'

  'Oh,' she attempted to shrug indifferently, 'I hadn't given it a thought.'

  'So you haven't really changed?'

  Zoe shivered at the chilly glint in his eyes but ploughed on bravely. 'You wouldn't want me to, surely?'

  'Zoe!' he snapped tersely, his face pale under his tan, 'I'm asking questions, not answering them.'

  'Perhaps I don't feel bright enough to answer any­thing,' she retorted sullenly. 'We aren't in the office this morning, you know.'

  'Just as well.' He took a menacing step towards her.

  Her heart beating suddenly faster, she sought urgently for a means of diverting him. 'Is the radioworking?' she asked eagerly.

  'Yes.' He halted only inches from her, his glancepiercing. 'I sent a message that we'd ran into someslight difficulties but should be home later today. Ididn''t go into details as I didn't want to worry yourgrandparents unduly.'

  'Oh, good.' She felt almost lyrical with relief, but sobered quickly again. 'I don't suppose I can ever make up for the anxiety I've caused them, but I'll do my best.'

  'Don't labour over it too hard, my child,' he advised sharply. 'Your grandparents were born into seagoing families. They've learnt to live with the elements, and the worry attached. It's a part of our lives.'

  'Which is no excuse for worrying them un­necessarily,' Zoe pointed out unhappily.

  'Well, resolve not to do it again.' Impatiently Reece noted the tears in her eyes. 'And if you must make a martyr of yourself, don't enjoy it too much.'

  'Sometimes I think you're inhuman!' she cried.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders angrily. 'Didn't lust night prove I'm very human indeed?'

  Equally angry, she stared up at him. His fingers bit deeply into her skin and she was lost in the intense blue of his eyes. The fire she thought had died hours ago began rekindling within her, making her head swim. He caught her to him harshly, kissing her ruthlessly, as though demanding submission.

  'Let me go!' she gasped, as he paused to draw breath.

  'For the moment I will.' He released her as if nothing had happened, but she flinched at the peculiar threat in his voice. Turning from her abruptly, he added stringently, 'We'll have to get on.'

  A little later Zoe cooked breakfast on board the yacht, leaving Reece to make a further brief inventory of what must be done before they could sail. He had said that, as the galley was still in one piece, it would be easier to eat on the boat than to carry everything to the cottage. She suspected he was no keener than she was to return there. She was hurt by his attitude, the cold compression of his mouth when she mentioned that they would have to go back and tidy up. It was so obvious he regretted what had happened there that she changed her mind about apologising for her part in it. When she recalled his remarks about being trapped, her cheeks went hot again with humiliation. She must continue to convince him, if only by her silence on the subject, that she had no such intentions.

  For the remainder of the morning and well into the afternoon they worked on the boat. Zoe, an expert on maintenance, knew exactly what to do without having to be told. She passed Reece the right tools at the right time, working quickly, with a marked intelligence, but she didn't receive any praise or expect any.

  They were almost finished when he suggested a short respite for coffee. After it had been made and drunk Zoe said coolly, 'While you finish checking here, I can go back to the cottage and see to things there, if you like.'

  He paused thoughtfully but didn't argue. 'I'll give you half an hour, no more.'

  'That should be adequate,' she replied stiffly.

  Reece glanced at her pale face with an inscrutable expression, but didn't offer to accompany her.

  She soon had everything exactly as they'd found it and, to make sure, took a last look round before closing the cottage door. With difficulty she swallowed a lump in her throat. If circumstances had been different she would loved to have spent more time here. Material things had never been important to her. She wouldhave enjoyed exploring the island, coming back to a frugal meal, cooked over the open fire, especially with Reece for company. It wouldn't have mattered aboutanything else.

  Having forced herself to be honest, she told herself fiercely she didn't have to dwell on it. Self-knowledgecould only destroy if one allowed it to, and it must surely be better to face up to things than to pretend nothing had happened. Reece Macadam didn't want her, and if for a little while she had wanted him it wassomething she was going to have to forget. Perhapsshe would be wise to look for other employment as soon as it was possible as it wasn't going to be easy tocontinue working for him after this.

  When she returned she was surprised to find him on the top of the cliff. 'Were you coming to help?' she asked, managing a brittle smile.

  'I came to meet you,' he frowned slightly at her tone. 'Is everything all right?'

  She supposed he meant the cottage and nodded. 'It's nice. I was sorry to leave.'

  'We can thank God it was there,' he said dryly, 'Otherwise we could have had a bad night.'

  'Could it have been any worse than the one we had?' shc asked flippantly, determined to pretend she had hated being with him. The skilfulness of his love-making was something she was determined to forget.

  His taut silence, the stiff rigidity of his back as he turned to go before her down the cliff path, should have made her feel triumphant, and she couldn't understand why it didn't. 'Does your writer friend want a lot for his island?' she asked rather uneasily.

  'We all want a lot, these days,' Reece replied cryp­tically, 'but this isn't everyone's cup of tea.'

  'It's beautiful, though.' On the shore, she paused staring around, her small face unconsciously wistful.

  'There's nothing here for a young girl like you.'

  'What sort of a girl do you think I am?' she demanded sharply, stumbling on the sand as something. in his voice disconcerted her.

  'That will have to keep.' His hand went out grimly to steady her until she regained her balance. 'Once I got started ...' his glance went enigmatically over her, resting briefly on the tender curves clearly outlined as they pushed against her shrunken sweater. 'I might not be able to stop this time, and we're in a hurry.'

  It was mid-evening when they reached home. Zoe, having remembered the untidy state of the galley, elected to rush below at the last minute to wash their breakfast dishes. Once they had tied up at the wharf, she wanted Reece to take her straight home. The sooner she saw her grandparents and assured them that she was safe, the better.

  There was more to do than she expected and before she was finished she could tell by the motion of the boat that it was in its berth. Leaving the last few chores undone, she hastily dried her hands and went on deck. Here she stopped aghast, as a most frightening scene met her eyes.

  On the quayside stood her grandfather, a veritable Goliath, his white hair and beard flowing wildly, while ranged on either side and behind him were a bunch of Macadam's men, their eyes coldly accusing.

  Their prevailing silence had done nothing to warn her. They were looking at Reece, she realised, while he stood staring back at them, his own eyes hard in an entirely expressionless face.

  For a brief second, as she rushed towards him, Zoe took in the equally impressive figure he made. His jeans, shrunken with sea water, clung to the powerful length of his legs, and his shirt, flung carelessly around his broad shoulders, was open to the waist. Such im­pressions were only fleeting, however, as her heartkept to her throat at the danger she thought he was in.Her grandfather was advancing, looking furious enoughto strike the younger man to the ground.

  Panic sweeping everything else from her mind, shecried, 'Reece, watch out!' her voice, crystal clear, shattering
the unnatural quiet.

  'Oh, God,' she heard him mutter, 'that's all I need!'

  The gasp that rose from the men was perhaps not soloud as it seemed. Nevertheless, despite her apprehension, Zoe wished she could have sunk through the deck.She knew, as they all did, that she never called Reeceanything but Macadam. Suddenly, with a kind of horrifiedd despair, she saw she had unwittingly confirmed,with a single word, the terrible suspicions writtenplainly on her grandfather's face.

  It was like the continuation of a nightmare when Taggart began shouting at Reece, asking him what he meant by abducting his granddaughter. When Zoe desperately tried to intervene, he turned on her. 'Be quiet, young woman! Should you not be ashamed of the disgrace you've brought on my house, and all your friends here?'

  Reece flung back his head, his whole body rigid, stopping Taggart with a glance. 'Will you kindly shut up!' he snapped tersely, grasping Zoe by the wrist as she again tried to interrupt. The warning pressure of his fingers forbade her to, and surprisingly, the grip of his hand conveyed a silent message that he, too, recog­nised a need for forbearance.

  At the same time, Zoe sensed an anger rising in him which she feared might not be controlled for long. Surely her grandfather knew Reece would refuse to be intimidated?

  She heard him explaining briefly, as she stood shivering by his side. 'We were caught in a storm, Taggart—you don't need me to tell you just how quickly one can blow up. We were wrecked on SamColter's island. I took a nasty crack on the head, we're both lucky to be alive.'

  'You might not think so before I'm through with you!' Taggart blustered, becoming angrier instead of calming down, as Zoe was praying he might. Raising a formidable finger, he pointed it straight at Reece. 'You knew the weather was unsettled, so much so that very few people were out, yet you not only went yourself but took her with you!' His finger wavered in the direction of Zoe's shrinking figure.

  Her face, white as chalk, she gasped, 'No, Grandfather, that's not true! I.. .'

  As she was about to confess that she had stowed away, the words were choked in her throat as Reece jerked her roughly against him. His arm went around her thin shoulders to hold her tightly.

  'It's true enough, Taggart,' he lied grimly. 'As for the rest, all your other obvious and despicable suspicions, they're entirely without foundation.'

  'Where did you spend the night?' Taggart, clearly outraged at being spoken to in such a fashion, appeared to lose all sense of discretion.

  Zoe wanted to cry out, but found she still couldn't speak. Nor, for a moment, did Reece. Narrowly he glanced around the ring of condemning faces. If his men's expressions were anything to go by, they had already judged him and found him guilty of everything Taggart accused him of—kidnapping and seduction! Zoe heard Reece drawing a deep, hard breath while she herself went icy cold with apprehension.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Atlast Reece spoke, his voice so dangerously calm that the men stirred uneasily. 'I think I'd prefer to discuss this elsewhere, Taggart, if you don't mind—if you insist?'

  'That would suit you fine, wouldn't it, Macadam?' Taggart raged, almost beside himself with fury. 'You stay out all night with my granddaughter and expect me to discuss it calmly another day, and at your con­venience. No, sir!' his face became so red Zoe gasped with alarm, even as she dreaded what was coming. 'You've compromised my dead son's only child and, with these men as my witness, I'll have your promise of recompense right here!'

  'Just what sort of compensation are you looking for?' Reece, his voice now icy with anger, stared at Taggart his eyes glittering with contempt. His whole stance, Zoe realised, would have inhibited any other man but her grandfather.

  'Are you prepared to marry her?' Taggart thund­ered, with the men muttering and backing him up belligerently.

  Almost in tears, Zoe saw that they blamed Reece entirely. He was older and so in command of every situation that they actually appeared to believe he could have avoided what had happened, if he had choosen to do so. And, terrible though it was, she found she couldn't altogether blame them, for of course they didn't know the whole truth. She felt very bitter to­wards them, though, that they should doubt Reece's integrity!

  'Grandfather!' she cried suddenly, furiously, ignoring Reece's arm nearly breaking her shoulder. 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Nothing has happened—nothing like what you appear to think. You must know it couldn't be true!'

  Reece cut off her indignant protests sharply 'Taggart,' he exclaimed lividly, 'I'll give you one last chance to come to my office or, by God, old as you are, I'll break every bone in your body! Zoe and I will be married, but not because you say so, or because of anything we've done. But I refuse to stand here wrangl­ing in public any longer.'

  Not surprisingly Taggart subsided. He was more frightened of Reece than Reece would ever be of him. Never yet had Taggart won an argument against the other man, but for the first time on losing one he didn't look altogether disgruntled.

  Zoe found it difficult to speak, she was so stunned by the turn of events. Reece's terse declaration that they were to be married filled her with dismay. He was proud, but his wasn't the pride of an inflated ego. It sprang from his being able to look any man in the face. If her grandfather forced them to marry, Reece would never forgive her.

  'Reece?' she whispered, staring at her grandfather in a kind of helpless fury.

  'Shut up!' Reece snapped, far from lover-like.

  The men faded away. Zoe blinked disbelievingly. One moment they had all been there, the next they had gone, most probably to cross wives and cold dinners. It was unlikely, because of their fundamental, un­swerving loyalty to Reece, that they would mention anything of what had happened here, but things had a way of getting around.

  In the office Zoe came to her senses. 'I'm not going to marry you, Macadam,' she looked at him, her teeth clenched, 'and that's five minutes overdue.'

  'You can and you will,' he answered curtly. 'Listen,Zoe,' she saw his face tighten, his eyes darken, 'I want your promise that you'll leave everything to me.'

  'I hope I have a choice!' she heard her grandfather panting up the stairs behind them.

  'No,' said Reece.

  'I'll tell you this,' she cried, but so only he could hear. 'I'll never allow you to sacrifice everything by marrying me!'

  A mocking grin split his face at that and she wanted in ask what was so funny.

  There followed a scene almost as confusing to Zoe us the one which had taken place on the yacht. Instead of continuing to bluster, Taggart lapsed into sullen utterances, with Reece terse to the point of rudeness. The final outcome was clear enough, though, even to Zoe's shocked, incredulous mind. Reece and she would he married—and very quickly. She, apparently, was to have no say in the matter. Even a date for the weeding was set, Reece deciding it should be in less than a month's time.

  When Taggart was dispatched in a taxi, with a promise from Reece that he and Zoe would follow in a few minutes, Zoe lifted her head to meet Reece's hooded eyes. She had listened silently, having been grimly ordered by Reece to be quiet each time she had attempted to interrupt the bitter exchange of words between the two men. Now, trembling from head to foot, she swallowed convulsively, trying to rid herself of a choking sensation of fear. A fear which still edged her voice when she did manage to speak.

  'Reece—about getting married. You can't be serious?'

  'No?' He went to pour them each a drink, telling her abruptly to drink hers up because she looked as if she needed it.

  'Are you surprised?' she asked angrily, obeying him because she did feel dreadfully in need of something.

  'Surely you don't believe that was a lot of idle chat­ter?' he jeered, without sympathy.

  She took a quicker drink and some went up her nose, bringing tears to her eyes. 'I realise Grandfather had to be pacified.'

  'What a naive little mind you have!'

  'I'm trying to think,' she cried, hating both him and her grandfather.

  'Then keep on try
ing,' he taunted. 'You'll soon get the hang of it—and used to the idea of being married. Most women seem to like it until the novelty wears off.'

  Ignoring his sarcasm, she protested fiercely, 'But I can't marry you!'

  'Well, you aren't marrying anyone else.' Picking up some of the pile of unopened mail on his desk, he flipped through it indifferently and laid it down again. 'You!ll just have to forget the other men in your life, I'm afraid.'

  Didn't he know how she felt? All these other men he mentioned, where were they? She never saw anyone but him. Lately she had had a dream, but it had been ruined this weekend, first by Reece, now her grand­father. Dear God, didn't he understand?

  'Reece . . .' the brandy she had swallowed gave her courage, 'the whole thing's ridiculous, don't pretend you think it isn't. What happened out there was like :i scene from a Shakespeare play. No one could possibly take it seriously!'

 

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