Compulsion

by Charlotte Lamb

  She had run away from the threat of Chris's posses­sion and now she was in the power of a man she barely knew, a man who had lied to her and was as ruthless in pursuit of what he wanted as ever Chris would be.

  Dandy was laughing. 'A stockbroker,’ he muttered, slapping his own knee. 'God damn him—a stock­broker! What will he pull next?'

  Lissa was sick with shame and self-disgust. She looked back over her shoulder at the fast disappearing coast­line. The lights of the hotel blazed like wildfire in the darkness. The moon had gone behind a bank of thin cloud and the ocean was very dark and silent. The cliffs and trees carved heavy shadows on the sky around the lighted hotel.

  'Take me back,' she said huskily, and Dandy stopped laughing to look at her in silence.

  'Don't be a dumb bunny,' he said, continuing to row.

  'Take me back!'

  'Even if I was going to, I couldn't,' Dandy added. 'I haven't got the energy. I'll just about make it to the Queen.'

  'The Queen?' She moistened dry lips to ask that.

  'The yacht,' Dandy explained. 'The Queen of Spades, that's what Luc named her. Daring his luck again. That boy loves to fly in the face of all reason.'

  'Boy!' Lissa flung back angrily. 'Boy?'

  Dandy chuckled. 'Man, then. Yeah, he's no boy, I guess,'

  She settled back in a grim silence and Dandy rowed with slow, effortless strokes. It took so long to reach the yacht that Lissa was half asleep when they finally slip­ped into the dark shadow of the boat, A voice softly hailed them. A ladder swung from the deck and Dandy hoisted her, his large hands gripping her waist, sup­porting her as she slipped slightly.

  Someone's hand dragged her over the side and she stood there, shivering, the dog under her arm growl­ing with raised hair.

  'What's that?' The man who had pulled her aboard stared at Fortune. 'Where did that come from?'

  Dandy appeared, puffing. 'She wouldn't leave the little rat,' he grunted.

  'Damn!' the man muttered.

  Dandy put an arm around Lissa as she swayed., cold and sick. 'Hey, the little lady is dead on her feet.'

  Lissa felt his arms round her and then she was swung up against his chest and carried down a narrow gang­way.

  She closed her eyes and just gave up. Dandy carried her into a cabin and laid her on a bunk. A moment later she woke up with a cry when she felt him stripping off her sweater. Her hands flailed and she yelled, 'Let me alone!'

  'Hey, hey,' Dandy grumbled. 'That sweater's wring­ing wet. Think I'd meddle with one of Luc's posses­sions? Come on, now, be a good little girl and let Dandy get you undressed and into bed.'

  She opened her eyes wide to search his face and see him clearly for the first time. She saw a broad, grizzled man in his fifties with a head which looked as ft if had been carved out of concrete and then weathered by wind and sun. His skin was mahogany, lined and wrinkled, his eyes a light grey. His hair was grey and sparse. His mouth was wide and strong. His ears stuck out at angles from his head. Lissa saw humour, calm self-confidence, kindness in his face.

  She relaxed in his hands and Dandy went on taking off her clothes. He might have been a child's nurse. He didn't seem to see her body and he talked reassuringly as he worked.

  'You get some sleep now and in the morning we'll be away on the tide. Joe's bringing you some nice hot cocoa—made with tinned milk, I'm afraid, but you won't mind that, will you? That'll help you sleep.'

  'I couldn't sleep,' she said drily. 'Not with Luc ashore and in danger.'

  'Now just you let us worry over Luc. I told you, the devil looks after his own. Luc will be fine.'

  'You don't know,' she cried miserably.

  Dandy was folding her like a baby into a warm cocoon of quilt. 'Dandy knows everything,' he told her, grinning down at her. 'All you have to do is remember that and you'll fall asleep like a baby.'

  Someone moved behind him and her glance flicked to the newcomer. He grinned at her, winking. 'That's right, miss. Dandy is as close to omniscience as you're likely to meet this side of the pearly gates.'

  Dandy offered to cuff him. 'This is Joe,' he told Lissa, removing the mug of cocoa from the young man's hands and handing it to her.

  She smiled weakly at Joe and got a grin back. Joe went out and Dandy patted her head, his huge hand light on her hair. 'Drink your cocoa and get some sleep,' he said, going out.

  She leant up on one elbow, the folds of the quilt draped around her, and sipped the steaming chocolate drink. There was a thick skin on the top of it, but she was so cold she did not care.

  Fortune had nestled down on the bunk beside her feet, snuggling under the quilt. He was asleep, giving whining little snorts from time to time, his nose pushed against her bare feet.

  The yacht swayed on the water and a bell somewhere chimed softly. Lissa looked up at the porthole. Luc would still be playing poker. How long would it be be­fore Chris knew she had gone? Would Luc have time to get away before it was discovered?

  He hadn't told her what he meant to do. He hadn't told her anything very much, and what he had told her was lies, she thought. Stockbroker ... Dandy had roared at the very idea, amused by Luc's lie.

  Lissa wasn't amused. Why had Luc told her that? To soothe her and reassure her?

  She felt a cold shiver of dismay as she faced her own future. She had voluntarily given herself into the hands of a man who had lied to her, a man with a background as troubled and murky as Chris. Luc was just as danger­ous, just as unscrupulous, just as amoral. He was a pirate, a professional gambler, and she had been crazy to trust him.

  Finishing her cocoa she put down her mug and lay back in the bunk. She watched the swaying lamp above her, her eyes following that slow pendulum intently.

  How could she sleep? She was torn between fear for Luc and anger with him.

  Her eyes were heavy and her brain moved slowly, trying to sort out what she could do, unable to think clearly about anything.

  She was growing warm at last and she felt her tense muscles beginning to relax as heat crept over her body. There wasn't a sound from anywhere on the yacht. Were all the men asleep? How could they even con­sider sleep when Luc was in danger? She turned on the pillow, yawning. She couldn't possibly sleep. She couldn't, possibly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lissa stirred, still fathoms deep in sleep, but disturbed by several things which had only just begun to penetrate her drowsy mind. The scent of bacon drifted around her, the delicious odour of coffee. She moved under the warm quilt, her nose wrinkling.

  Someone laughed and her lids flew open. Sunlight struck across her unguarded eyes. She blinked, shift­ing in the bunk, and became aware of a difference in the movements of the yacht.

  She sat up, giving a stifled cry, and then stared in disbelief as she saw the tall figure lounging on the end of her bunk.

  'Luc!' The sight of him sent a wave of sick relief through her. His lean dark face was expressionless as he watched her and her smile vanished as she realised something else.

  She was naked, the quilt having dropped back from her body as she sat up. Colour flared into her face. She grabbed the quilt and wound it around herself with a shaking hand.

  'Slept well, did you?' Luc enquired silkily, watching her with open amusement,

  'I think there was something in that cocoa,' she ac­cused, and saw his mouth twitch at the edges.

  'Dandy thought you'd be better off asleep,' he said in half admission.

  'He had no right to do that!'

  Luc shrugged, his wide shoulders moving easily under the cotton sweater he wore.

  Lissa took a long, painful breath. 'What happened last night?'

  'I played poker,' he drawled. Getting off the bunk, he moved away and turned with a tray in his hands. 'Your breakfast,' he said.

  'I couldn't eat anything! Tell me what happened last night, Luc.'

  He came across to her and placed the tray across her knees. Lissa glared at him. 'How am I supposed to eat it like this?'

&nbs
p; 'You can't,' he agreed. 'You'll have to come out of your cocoon.' His eyes glinted teasingly at her. 'I don't mind watching.'

  Her cheeks burnt. 'Will you please find me some clothes?'

  Luc grinned at her, but went over to a chest and came back with a loose, very large white sweater. He tossed it to her. 'This do?'

  'Please turn your back,' she said with dignity.

  'Shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, aren't you?' he asked softly.

  'Please,' she muttered.

  He shrugged and swung away. Lissa hurriedly drag­ged the sweater over her head. The tray rocked alarm­ingly. She sat up, safely covered, and Luc turned to survey her. His grin made her flush increase.

  'Ten sizes too big, but you look very sexy in it,' he informed her.

  'The yacht's moving,' she said, ignoring that remark.

  'We've been under way for hours. We thought we'd let you sleep until we were safely out of reach of Brandon's pursuit.'

  'Are we?' she asked nervously.

  'We are,' Luc nodded. His eyes probed her face. 'Sorry? Or relieved?'

  She looked down at the tray, trembling slightly.

  'Eat your breakfast while it's hot,' Luc urged.

  Lissa began to eat, her stomach protesting hungrily at the delicious scent of the food. 'Tell me what hap­pened,' she said with her head bent.

  Luc strolled to the porthole and looked out. 'I told you I'd beat him hands down and I did.'

  'You won a lot of money?'

  'He plays too wildly. He started off quite cool, but he went to pieces towards the end.'

  Poor Chris, she thought, shuddering.

  'I took him apart,' said Luc, his voice silky.

  'Don't,' Lissa whispered through trembling lips. Tears pricked at her eyes and a salty taste filled her mouth.

  'Tears for Brandon?' Luc asked in a hard, sarcastic voice, 'If you'd stayed you would have shed them for yourself.'

  Huskily, Lissa said: 'Whatever he's done...'

  'You still love him? I gathered that last night,' Luc bit out. 'Why didn't you stay with him, then?' He didn't wait for her to answer, his voice flaying her, cold and tipped with steel. 'I'll tell you why, shall I? You knew damned well I was right about him and you ran because you knew that sort of life wasn't what you wanted. But you still hanker for him, don't you? I realised that when you kissed him last night.'

  Lissa stared, her face distraught, tears on her lashes.

  Luc smiled at her icily. 'Very touching scene it was, too. I thought at the time it meant you'd decided to stay with him. He was purring like a stroked cat after you'd gone, grinning at me triumphantly.' His mouth twisted. 'Brandon knew we were playing for more than money, and after you kissed him he thought he'd al­ready won. He couldn't keep his mind on the game after that—he was sweating to get to you. You may not have meant to, but you were helping me.'

  Lissa shivered. She had gone in there like Judas to give Chris the kiss of betrayal, hut Luc was looking at her with icy distaste and she knew he would not believe her if she told him why she had gone to the gambling rooms.

  'It must have been a hard decision to make,' Luc re­marked in that chilly voice. 'Poor Lissa!'

  She drank some of the coffee, her head bent, not even trying to answer.

  When she felt able to speak quite steadily she asked: 'Where are we going?'

  'Does it matter? England, eventually. But I'm in no hurry.' Luc crossed to the door and opened it. He looked back at her, his smile malicious. 'I intend to enjoy the voyage.'

  He went out and the door snapped shut. Lissa stared at it, her body trembling. Luc had not needed to ex­pand on that cryptic little remark; his narrowed eyes had enforced it.

  She had had a choice to make, and she had chosen on driven impulse, but when she contemplated what might lie ahead of her, her stomach turned over in humiliation and shame.

  There was nowhere for her to run to—she was im­prisoned on a yacht with a blue ocean around her and no choice but to submit to whatever Luc demanded.

  The inevitability of her own submission was not the worst thing preying on her mind. It was the shameful truth that Luc wouldn't even need to use force. He could take her, whenever he chose, because she wouldn't even put up a fight. The thought of belong­ing to Chris had finally become intolerable to her. His lovemaking had always alarmed and disturbed her, but even the contemplation of Luc's lovemaking could send waves of weakening heat around her whole body.

  She wondered how long it had taken Chris to realise she had gone and to guess who had taken her away.

  Chris had lost last night. He might be the ruthless thug Luc had called him, but Lissa had known him for so many years." She covered her face with her hands, feeling sick with pain. Poor Chris! She didn't know if he loved her, but he would have lost face with his men, he would be feeling humiliated, angry. Old affection for him made her wish he had not had to lose quite so openly.

  Fortune was finishing her breakfast greedily. Lissa put an arm around his neck and hugged him. Burying her face in his coat, she muttered to him, 'I despise my­self, Fortune. I'm crazy!'

  Fortune licked whatever part of her he could reach, aware of her need for comfort and ready to supply it in his own fashion. She laughed, tears on her lashes, then jumped as someone knocked loudly on the cabin door.

  'Come in,' she quavered huskily.

  Dandy put his grizzled head around the door. 'Morning, princess. Your ladyship's clothes.' He had them over his arm, neatly pressed. 'All present and correct,' he told her, draping them over the end of the bunk. He reached a long arm over and plucked the dog out of her arms. 'While you get dressed I'll take the little dog for a walk.' He held Fortune up by his neck and grinned at him as he growled. 'What sort of dog d'you call that?'

  'He's a poodle,' Lissa said indignantly.

  'Poodle, is he? Come on, horrible, Dandy is going to show you the deck.'

  When he had gone she slid out of bed. The cabin was large and elegantly furnished, she found on inspec­tion. There was a narrow shower cubicle in one corner of it and the furniture was all fitted so that it did not shift as the yacht rolled with the waves. However Luc made his money, it was clear he had it. Lissa couldn't even begin to guess how much this yacht was worth. She had never seen one like it.

  It was, she thought wryly, like a floating hotel. Last night in the shock and depression of her arrival she had barely taken in any of it, but she had retained an im­pression of size which had stayed with her.

  A long, narrow mirror lined a wardrobe. Lissa studied herself in it. The loose sweater fell to her bare thighs. She looked dishevelled and very flushed. Grim­acing at her own reflection, she pulled off the sweater and went into the cubicle to shower.

  When she had dried herself she dressed in her own sweater and the neatly pressed jeans. They had, she-suspected, been washed overnight. She made her bed and tidied up the cabin before she went on deck.

  She could hear the low throbbing of the engine vibrating through the timbers. At a glance she could only guess at the number of cabins, but there were a row of doors leading off the gangway running from the base of the steps. Everything gleamed with polish, the wood, metal and glass immaculate.

  When she emerged on deck she found Fortune being dragged to and fro on the end of a long thin rope. Dandy grinned at her. 'Seasick,' he told her. 'He doesn't like the sea much, does he?' .

  Fortune was whining, trying to get back to her.

  'Take him below,' said a voice behind her, and she stiffened, swinging to face Luc.

  Dandy picked the little dog up and marched off with him. Luc met her eyes coolly. 'He'll feel better below. He won't notice the motion so much.'

  She moved to the rail and leaned on it, watching the flying white wake streaking behind them. Luc moved to stand beside her. She looked at his long, brown hands on the iron rail and her throat filled with dry tension.

  How did you manage to get away?' she asked huskily.

  'How could he stop
me?' Luc asked with a grim smile. 'I had a car waiting at the hotel and a boat wait­ing in the town. He thought I was making a getaway with the money I'd won.' He laughed. 'He didn't re­alise precisely what stakes we were playing for.'

  Lissa shivered. 'He won't come after us, will he?'

  Luc glanced over his shoulder at the empty blue water. 'Even if he did he wouldn't catch us. The Queen has too much of a headway.'

  'I shan't feel safe until I'm in England,' said Lissa, and Luc gave her a long, sardonic smile.

  'I'm sure you won't,' he drawled, and there was a threat in the softness of his voice.

  She shifted uneasily at the sound of it. Luc turned to lean his back on the rail, glancing up at the burning, untiring sun. 'Why don't you take a lounger and sun­bathe for an hour? I've got some work to do.'

  He went below and Lissa stretched out on the pad­ded lounger which Dandy put up for her on the deck. Occasionally one of the crew came up and moved around, but although they always gave her a polite nod they did not speak to her. She counted four of them and wondered how many more there were on the yacht.

  Dandy called her down to lunch just as she was falling asleep under the spell of wind and sun. Flushed and drowsy, she went down to wash and followed Dandy to the cabin two doors down from her own. She found herself eating alone with Luc at a polished rose­wood table guarded at the edges with low rims of silver which stopped things sliding off the table.

  They ate well-cooked and elegantly served food of which Lissa barely tasted a morsel. She ate it but she only vaguely realised what she was eating. Luc was quiet and when their eyes met she could not see a flicker of expression in the dark blue ones opposite her.

  After lunch Luc suggested a tour of the yacht. Lissa followed him from cabin to cabin, surprised by the luxury of the surroundings, puzzled by the size of it.

  'What do you do with the yacht while you're in London?' she asked.

  He shrugged. 'She either lies up or I lend her to friends. Dandy sails her for them. I keep the crew on throughout the year. I know them all and I don't want to lose them. If you're going to spend time cooped up with someone on a yacht you need to be sure you're going to like and trust them.'