by Jane Corrie
got out until you saw things his way.' He finished his drink, and looked at Sonia. 'I've evened the score now.' He walked towards a wall cupboard and opened it, taking out two small but exquisite gold cups. Indented on either side of them were emerald eagles.
Sonia gasped; she didn't need to ask who they belonged to. 'How . .?' she began.
He poured himself another drink. 'Sure you don't want another?' he asked.
Sonia was sure. She was getting more and more sleepy. She took another sip; perhaps the drink would wake her up a bit.
Kirk came back and sat opposite her. 'Since you've been at that camp, he's spent most of his time up there. I wasn't sure where he'd taken you, but when I found out where he was spending most of his time, I caught on. He's even moved in these last four days. I reckoned it was time I hooked you out of there.' He stared at the cups he had left on a side table. 'Lifting that stuff was a piece of cake. He gave his staff time off when he moved into the camp.'
Sonia's lids felt heavy. She blinked again—what on earth was wrong with her? Suddenly she found herself yawning. 'Terribly sorry,' she murmured, 'I think I ought to get some fresh air.' She attempted to get up, but found her limbs too heavy to move.
Kirk sat beside her. 'It's okay, honey. You'll
get all the fresh air you need once we're on the way. We're going much farther than the Bahamas, somewhere where I know I can find a market for the Maragal treasures.'
She heard his voice, but it sounded a very long way off, like an echo. Vaguely she knew she didn't want to help him spend his ill-gotten gains, even if it was Rory Maragal's valuables he was selling. She found she was being picked up and at the sensation of being, carried made a small cry of protest. She was put on a bed.
Again his voice came from afar. 'Don't worry, Sonia, I'm not that bad. We've plenty of time to get acquainted. I'm sorry it had to be this way, honey,' he said as he laid a coverlet over her, 'but I had a feeling you might have backed out.' He stood looking down at her. Sonia desperately fought sleep. 'You know,' he drawled, 'losing those cups won't hurt half as much as losing you. For once in his life Maragal's lost out.'
CHAPTER TEN
FROM that time on Sonia lay in deep sleep. When she next attempted to open her eyes, her befuddled senses told her it was morning. What part of morning, she didn't know; she just wanted to sleep, but someone was trying to rouse her, she wanted to tell them to go away, but hadn't the energy.
`Come on, sweetheart, shake out of it. Try and drink this.'
She was lifted up and a cup held to her mouth. She made an effort, but it was no use. Her head lulled back against the shoulder supporting her. There was a resigned, 'Okay, sleep it out, hon, guess I overdid the K.O. drops.'
The next time she almost surfaced it was still light and there was a lot of noise quite near her, shouting and feet stamping up and down steps. She tried hard to concentrate, but gave it up. Whatever it was, it did not concern her; her heavy lids closed back over her eyes.
The voice sounded quite close to her and was vaguely familiar. 'And what have we here? The Sleeping Beauty, no doubt ! '
Once again her peace was disturbed. She was
caught by the shoulders and pulled none too gently upright. She protested weakly and having no strength to support herself subsided slowly back down towards the pillows. 'Oh, no, you don't,' said the voice. 'Come on, the game's up. You can drop the act now.' She was again roughly pulled upwards. 'Look at me, damn you!' he said.
Sonia found her lashes glued to her eyes. She made a determined effort, this time with a little success. She couldn't focus, the face before her floated to and fro. She caught a glimpse of hard eyes, and the next moment she was pushed roughly back on the bed. 'Drunk, by heavens !' said a disgusted voice. `No doubt celebrating your success. Well, we'll see what a few cups of black coffee will do, shall we?'
Left in peace, she drifted off into dreamland again, but all too soon that wretched voice pushed itself into her conciousness. Once again she was pulled upright and a steadying arm held round her. A cup was put to her lips. She vaguely remembered Kirk doing the same thing. `Kirk?' she muttered.
This seemed to infuriate the person with the cup. 'Drink it,' he said harshly, 'or I'll pour it down your lovely throat.'
Sonia tried to open her eyes again. She resented being shouted at. She didn't know who he was, but she didn't want him around. She half
raised an arm that felt like lead. `Go away,' she said quite plainly
`By heavens,' shouted the man, 'drink, will you? When you've sobered, you'll get the thrashing of your life, either that or I'll throttle you!'
She tried to sip, but her throat muscles would not oblige, and she turned her head away. She was still hazily concentrating on the man's words. She found it funny, and giggled. 'You sound just like Rory Maragal,' she said, then her head lulled back on to the shoulder and she sank once more into oblivion.
When she next awoke, Chloe was with her. Her eyes were still too heavy to open properly, but she knew her voice. Chloe was holding her hand and telling her everything was going to be all right. Sonia wished she wouldn't talk so much, it was hard to concentrate. Chloe was demanding to know why she had been so stupid as to listen to Kirk in the first place, etc., and on receiving no reply, she sighed. 'Oh well, we'll talk about it tomorrow.' Sonia heartily agreed with this decision; perhaps now she'd get some peace.
On her next awakening, her senses had cleared, she was still inexplicably tired, but awake enough to take in her surroundings, and they puzzled her. Her gaze took in the sumptuous bed she lay in, swept over the thick golden material of the coverlet, and the silk sheets, then
travelled on to the walls of the room, tinted a gentle sea green with gold scrolls entwining here and there. The ceiling was a work of art, a slightly darker green than the walls, the gold motif more in evidence making the area shine as the light caught it. Back to the walls again, there were miniatures in delicately ornamental golden frames. Her eyes came to rest on a large picture almost opposite her. A portrait—a man in Spanish armour; his haughty expression and the shield his long fingers rested on brought her to her senses with a rush. Now she knew where she was !
She sat up quickly. She was in her nightdress, and this gave her a few bad moments too. She felt a heaviness on her left arm and stared at the cause. The Maragal betrothal bracelet was on her wrist, and heavens above ! the large emerald ring on her third finger. As she stared at them, something cold moved around her neck, she almost screamed and gingerly felt her neck, It was a gold chain and as she held it away from her the glinting lights of the attached eagle scintillated before her.
She closed her eyes. If only she knew how they'd got there ! With a quick movement she removed the eagle, feeling less like a chained slave when it was off. Next she gave her attention to the bracelet, but could not find the catch to release it. She twisted it round and tried again,
still with no success. Her lips straightened. Then she pulled at the ring, and her eyes opened incredulously when this too would not budge. She was getting frantic now; what excuse could she give Rory if he came in and found her actually wearing the wretched articles? She would have to plead guilty but insane, she thought, as she tried to keep calm for another go at removing them. In the end she had to admit defeat. Her efforts had exhausted her, and she lay back on the bed and tried to make sense of it all.
The door opened and Gary strode in. He walked swiftly to the bed. Sonia just looked at him. She didn't know how to explain her presence in Rory Maragal's house, let alone in one of his bedrooms! Then she saw the man himself follow Gary in, and her smouldering eyes met his bland ones. Would Gary still represent her? she wondered. If ever she needed his help, it was now.
He caught her hand. 'Sonia ? Are you all right?' he said.
She couldn't understand the question. Gary looked worried. Perhaps she was mad after all! She managed to answer calmly enough. 'I'm a little sleepy, that's all, Gary, don't look so worried.'
&nbs
p; He looked down at her, his eyes taking in the ring and bracelet. He stiffened and looked back at Rory, and some sort of communication
passed between them. Gary sighed and released her hand. He swiftly bent and kissed her cheek. `All the best, sweet', he murmured. Sonia blinked and watched him walk to the door.
Alone once more, Sonia was now convinced she had lost her sanity. This must be what was known at 'lucid periods in between'. Perhaps that was why she felt so tired.
The door opened again and Rory walked back into the room. He stood looking at her for a moment or so. She could not read his expression, but stared back at him. 'And how is my Snow Queen?' he murmured.
Sonia might be mad, but she was not that far gone. 'I am not "your" anything, Mr Maragal,' she said coldly, then remembered the ring and bracelet; she might as well get it over with. She held out the hand towards him. `You're not going to believe this, but I've no idea how they got there, and can't even think up a good story to cover it.'
He walked over to her. 'I can,' he said blandly.
Sonia did not like the smug look on his face.
He picked her hand up and caressed it, and Sonia felt the alarm bells ringing. 'I've decided to marry you,' he announced calmly, and went on before Sonia could recover in time to add her sentiments on the matter, 'I can't see any other way of making sure my collection stays intact.
You do seem to have a morbid fascination for it. Perhaps once it's yours, I can sleep in peace.'
Sonia found her voice, admittedly it was one octave ,higher. 'I suppose I have nothing to say in the matter ?' she demanded, her eyes glinting green sparks.
He further enraged her by shaking his head and answering, 'Nothing that will make the slightest difference.'
`You called me a china doll,' she said accusingly. 'You said you wanted a real woman.'
His hand still caressed hers. 'I do,' he replied calmly. 'I want the woman I brought to life under my lips that night.' His arm slipped round her shoulders. 'I found her once, I intend to find her again.'
He was getting dangerously close. 'I don't love you,' lied Sonia, not ready yet to capitulate.
His eyes met hers. 'Don't you?' he murmured. `Well, we can put that right, can't we ?' He pinned her back on the bed.
Seeing the determination in his eyes, Sonia tried to still her pounding heartbeats. 'Even Kirk wouldn't go that far,' she managed to get out.
His eyes flashed and she held her breath. `Kirk was a fool,' he said quietly. 'Don't make the mistake of classing me with him. He wouldn't be walking about at this moment if he'd laid a finger on you.'
She realised quite suddenly this man loved her. He was telling her so in his own way. 'I don't . . . I can't...' was as far as she got. His lips crushed hers. Again she knew the urge to respond, to throw caution to the winds, but she was still afraid.
Rory raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were hooded. 'I do hope you are going to be sensible, my love,' he said quietly. 'The whole island knows we're getting married.' He shrugged slightly. 'Not that it surprised anyone. You appeared to be the only one who didn't know how I felt.'
Sonia could only look at him, then remembered Gary. She looked at the ring, then back at Rory. 'Gary?' she asked.
He smiled, and Sonia thought he had a lovely smile when he chose to show it, it did things to her.
`I told him myself,' he said grandly. 'I got the truth out of Chloe. He didn't believe me until he saw the ring.'
'But...' stuttered Sonia, 'you hadn't even asked me then—and come to think of it, you still haven't ! '
He drew her close. 'And give you the pleasure of turning me down? Oh no, my love, we start as we mean to go on. You'll marry me because I say so.'
Sonia thought about this dictatorial state-
ment, and decided she liked his method of proposal. It was unique anyway. She began to get sleepy again. The warmth of his arms was lulling her back to the cotton wool fields. She murmured, 'Who put me to bed, Rory?'
He looked down at her curled like a kitten in his arms, and gently kissed her eyelids. 'Chloe did,' he said softly. 'When you come to again, I'll bring her to see you. Dilson overdid the tranquillisers. The doctor said it will take a day or two to wear off.'
Sonia heard his voice slightly fading and because she didn't want him to go away, she slipped. her arms round his neck and nuzzled against his strong jaw.
Rory understood. Before she drifted once more into oblivion, a voice caressingly near her ear murmured, 'I'm not leaving you—ever.'
