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The next few minutes were par for the course. I accused her of trying to steal from me; she denied it. But I was talking off the top of my head. My real consciousness was elsewhere, in the urgent warmth that had seized me as I lay on top of her and wouldn’t let go of me now.
It got worse when I realised something else about her.
‘Why are you soaking wet?’ I asked.
‘I’ve been swimming,’ she said scathingly. ‘I thought it would be good for my health. Ow!’
She’d trodden on something sharp, which must have hurt because her feet were bare. So was the rest of her, almost.
She was wearing a silver lacy dress, tight at the waist and slit high at the thigh. The water not only made it cling to her, it also made it virtually transparent. So now I could see what had been writhing against me.
She was beautiful—slender, perfectly proportioned, rounded, dainty, sexy, provocative. This was getting very difficult.
Make me strong, I prayed silently to the guy who helps me on these occasions. Let me at least act like a gentleman, even if I don’t feel like one right now.
But he must have been off-duty tonight, because there was the warmth, growing stronger every moment.
I returned to normal consciousness to discover that we were having an infuriated discussion about casinos. I think I accused her of having an accomplice inside, but don’t ask me how we reached that point. I know we ended up scrabbling around on the ground for the cash that had fallen out of my pocket in the struggle.
I suppose it was when she mentioned the British Consul that I realised I’d got it wrong, and she really wasn’t a thief.
‘Where are you running from?’ I asked.
‘A yacht. It’s called The Silverado and it’s moored down there. Look.’ She pointed down into the harbour. ‘That one. Right next to the big vulgar one.’
‘You mean The Hawk?’ I asked cautiously.
‘You know it?’ Now she definitely sounded hostile.
‘Why do you make that sound like a crime?’
So she told me all about The Hawk, how its boss was a creep called Jack Bullen, better known as Bully Jack.
I was glad she couldn’t see me too well at that moment.
‘Hugh Vanner has been trying to crawl to him,’ she seethed.
‘That makes this Vanner character a creep,’ I said, ‘but why Bullen?’
‘Because Vanner would only crawl to an even bigger creep than himself. He even sent him gold and diamond cufflinks. I ask you!’
‘That’s really disgusting,’ I agreed fervently.
She told me how Vanner had tried to make her be ‘nice’ to his guests, and she’d jumped overboard to escape him.
She was small and defenceless, with not a single possession—not on her, anyway. But she was defying the world and I’d never seen anything like her.
Maybe the idea came to me then. Or maybe it had been nudging the edges of my thoughts for a few minutes past. But it was forming rapidly, and I had the outline pretty much shaped when I heard, ‘That’s her!’
And there was a man who could only have been Vanner, rushing at us with two gendarmes, shrieking that the silver girl had stolen from him.
I pointed out that the money lying all around us was mine, which stymied him, although he still frothed at the mouth until, to shut him up, I had to give him my name.
‘You’re Jack Bullen?’ he said in a choked voice.
After that he couldn’t get rid of the gendarmes fast enough. He wanted to get me alone to do some business schmoozing.
‘When you’ve returned this lady’s property,’ I told him. ‘Deliver everything to The Hawk.’
Fending off his attempts to join us, I took her arm and made for the road where there would be a taxi.
‘You were going to take me to the Vice-Consul,’ she said.
‘I’ve changed my mind. We’re going to The Hawk.’
She was still arguing as we got into the taxi. I laid out her options.
‘You can go with Vanner, with the gendarmes or with me.’
‘That’s blackmail.’
‘It’s what I’m good at. Now, shut up or I’ll toss you back into the water.’
I don’t normally talk to women like that, but something had happened to me that night. I was like a drowning man who sees his last hope and knows he has to grasp it. So my finesse went out of the window.
Then I saw her looking at me. An incredulous, half-quizzical smile had taken over her face, and I found myself smiling back. We knew nothing about each other, except that we were on the same wavelength.
‘All right,’ she said.
CHAPTER THREE
Della’s Story
‘WE DON’T have much time,’ the man told me in a low, hurried voice.
I could see that we didn’t. The taxi was on its way down the slope to the harbour, and we were going to be there at any moment.
‘All I can say now,’ he said, ‘is that I need help badly, and you’re the only person who can give it to me.’
‘How?’
‘I’m being nudged—well, frog-marched—into a marriage I don’t want to make. Selina’s a banker’s daughter, and money must marry money. That sort of thing.’
‘Sure, like you’re a millionaire,’ I said sceptically.
‘I told you who I am. Jack Bullen.’
‘Yes, after I’d given you all the clues. That story will do well enough for Vanner, but not me. I suppose you work on his yacht?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Honestly, I’m grateful to you for saving me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. The silver plate’s wearing off those cufflinks, and I’ll bet you borrowed the flash clothes from your boss.’
He tore his hair, and I had to admit that the tousled look suited him.
‘I haven’t got time to argue,’ he said. ‘Look, this is the harbour, and there’s a boat ready to take us to The Hawk. Just act like you’re wildly in love with me, and you might save me from a fate worse than death.’
He was mad, but I owed him a lot, so I reckoned I’d play along. I was feeling light-headed by then, and willing to let the night end any way it would.
He paid off the cab and we headed towards a small boat that was waiting. The pilot greeted us with a wave.
‘Evening, Pete.’
‘Evening, Mr Bullen.’
I was too astounded to speak until I was settled into the boat.
‘He called you—’
‘Well, I told you,’ he said, sounding aggrieved.
I tried to see his face as we sped out to the deep water where The Hawk was moored. But the light changed so fast that I couldn’t make out much except that he was grinning like a man with a handful of aces. I knew that look. I even had a weakness for it. And already I was getting warning signals that I was determined to ignore.
One thing was clear. This man was trouble and fun in equal measures.
So let the good times begin!
‘Just say that you’ll help me,’ he said urgently.
‘How?’
‘By being my girlfriend. Here’s the story. We’ve known each other for a few months, we meet constantly at my London flat, and these last few weeks we’ve had secret assignations all over Europe. My sister keeps demanding to meet you because she doesn’t think you exist, but you do.’
He was gabbling, and I only took half of it in.
‘Assignations all over Europe—’ I said. ‘Weren’t we travelling together?’
‘No, I was on the yacht.’
‘Why didn’t you invite me on the yacht, you cheap-skate?’
‘Because Grace wouldn’t have you.’
‘Grace?’
‘My sister. My keeper. She’s organised this trip to get me married, but you are going to thwart her.’
‘So—I’m your girlfriend—?’
‘That’s right. I’m mad about you because you’re beautiful, sweet-natured, witty, and the sexiest thing in creation. Do you think you can remember that?’
‘Can you?’ I asked.
‘Yes, all of it. Especially the last bit. OK, we’re nearly there. Act the part.’
‘You want me to gaze into your eyes?’
‘I think it’ll take a bit more than that,’ he said hoarsely, and wrapped his arms tightly around me.
I ought to have seen it coming, but he moved so fast that I was taken by surprise. Suddenly I was being pressed back against the curve of his arm while his mouth covered mine in a perfect simulation of hungry passion.
He was clever. I’ll give him that. Nothing offensive. Considering that I was half naked and we’d only just met, it was a virtuous kiss: everything for show on the outside and nothing really happening—except deep inside me, where there was a whole lot happening.
I put my arms around him and helped out with the performance. At least I told myself it was just a performance. There was something about being pressed against him that made me tend to forget that.
I was dimly aware that the boat had stopped and the pilot was turning around from the front to regard us.
‘Er—sir—?’ he said, grinning.
Jack Bullen waved him away and redoubled his efforts. It seemed only polite to co-operate, so I did, writhing my fingers in his hair and pressing against him. There were lights on us now, so I gave it all I’d got.
Looking up over his shoulder, I could see men and women leaning over the rails to gape down at us. They were all wide-eyed. Two women especially—one young, one middle-aged—glared at us with undisguised fury.
He drew back his head a little and whispered, ‘Are they watching us?’
‘With their eyes on stalks,’ I murmured back.
‘Good. Let’s make it worth their while.’
He returned to the fray, but this time in a way that was even more self-consciously theatrical. He kissed my face, my neck, all the way down, then below my ears.
‘Enough?’ he asked.
‘I think you’ve made your point,’ I said with difficulty.
‘Then let’s go,’ he muttered.
As I climbed up the gangway ahead of him I was acutely conscious of my semi-naked behind waving about just in front of his eyes. I ought to have been modestly shocked, and with Vanner I would have been. But with Jack Bullen I could only remember the feel of his body pressing mine into the warm earth behind the casino. I wondered if he was enjoying the view. I had to take a deep breath against the wave of self-consciousness that washed over me, and then I found myself stumbling.
He was there at once, his hands grasping my hips, steadying me.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes—yes, I’m fine,’ I gabbled, wondering if I would ever make sense again. My insides were reacting in a way that was all their own.
We reached the deck and I got a better look at our audience. The men were in dinner jackets and the women glittered with costly jewels. There was no doubt about it now. I’d fallen into a den of millionaires.
They were taking a good look at me, too. Jack put his arm about my shoulders, turned to the middle-aged woman who looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon, and said firmly, ‘Grace, this is…Cindy.’