Shores Of Love

Kirsty laughed at the very idea. ‘The guardians don’t live in the village. They live on the Nevay.’

Avalon held her patience. ‘All right, then. Where’s the Nevay? Is it far from here?’

‘Not at all. You can see it from the bedroom window.’

Avalon thought for a moment. ‘When I looked out of the window I couldn’t see a thing. Just empty moorland stretching for miles.’

‘Aye,’ nodded Kirsty. ‘That’s the Nevay. The enchanted land. That’s where they live.’

The enchanted land? Suddenly Avalon was seized by a horrible suspicion and she took a deep breath. ‘Kirsty? Who exactly are these guardians? What do they look like? Can you describe them to me?’

Kirsty laughed again. ‘Good heavens, lassie! No one has ever seen the guardians. They like to be left alone. They’re shy. And apart from that they don’t really trust us mere mortals. They think we’re coarse and ignorant. I’m the only one around here they ever talk to. Whenever they have something to tell me they send me a sign. Sometimes it’s a light at night and I go out to the Nevay and listen to their voices.’

An unaccountable shiver ran down Avalon’s spine and the words were out before she realised what she was saying. ‘I saw a light last night. A big, tall flame. That’s how I knew someone was here.’

Kirsty nodded wisely. ‘That was the Fire Magic. If you saw it then that proves you were the one who was chosen.’

Avalon stared at her in amazement, her suspicions now a certainty. This perfectly normal-looking nice old lady was telling her that she’d been brought here by fairies to marry a Clan Chief! Some big, hairy ruffian in a kilt, no doubt. It was unbelievable! Fairies…? God almighty!

Weakly, she got to her feet and managed a smile. ‘You just sit there and rest, Kirsty. I’ll do the washing-up.’

‘Aye,’ Kirsty said cheerfully. ‘And then I’ll give you a brush and you can do something with your hair. We can’t have the Chief seeing you like that, can we?’

CHAPTER TWO

NEITHER of them had heard the Land Rover drawing up outside. Avalon had just finished brushing the tangles out of her long, silvery blonde hair and was surveying the result critically in the mirror when she saw the reflection of the man striding through the door. She turned slowly, then stiffened and felt a hot flush of resentment rush to her cheeks. So last night it hadn’t been a dream after all. This was the same raven-haired man who’d gazed down at her on the bed and run his hands over her naked body.

Over six feet tall and wide-shouldered, he seemed to fill the room with his sheer dominating presence. In her ‘dream’ last night his features had been blurred and indistinct but now every detail imprinted itself on her mind—the finely chiselled nose and cheekbones, and the wide sensual mouth. Every uncompromising line added up to a display of proud, almost arrogant power and self-assurance. His clothes sat easily on his lean, muscular body—a plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves and light brown cords tucked into hard-worn combat boots. And those eyes! They were fixed on her now like two blue lasers scorching their way through the tattered fabric of her dignity.

Finally he spoke in a hard, clipped voice. ‘I’m Fraser of Suilvach. I hear that you’re the girl I’m supposed to take as my wife.’

Oh, my God! She’d been hoping that when he arrived he’d simply take her down to the village, apologise for Kirsty’s strange delusions and send her on her merry way, but now it was obvious that she had another crank on her hands. Well, enough was enough. She didn’t mind humouring Kirsty but she was damned if she’d play this game with him. She decided simply to ignore him, then had second thoughts. There was a dangerous, hard edge to this man and she guessed that people ignored him at their peril.

Impatient for an answer, he turned to Kirsty. ‘Has our little sea-witch eaten yet?’

Kirsty nodded happily. ‘Aye. There’s nothing wrong with her appetite.’

‘And does she have a name?’

‘It’s Avalon. I said it would be, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, Kirsty. You did.’ His blue eyes returned to Avalon and began surveying her doubtfully from head to toe, like a man deciding whether or not to buy a second-hand car. Finally he growled, ‘She’s pretty enough, I grant you that. Are you quite sure that she’s the one?’

Kirsty was busy rolling herself another cigarette. She licked the paper then bobbed her head. ‘There can’t be any doubt about it now, Fraser. Didn’t she just tell me herself that it was the Fire Magic that guided her here?’

Avalon groaned and began to sink into a morass of despair. Fairies! Fire Magic! This was like something from The Twilight Zone. Were they all crazy up here? God knew what kind of things they got up to at the full moon. Painted themselves blue and howled at the sky?

Suddenly she flinched and drew away as he reached out to touch her face, and he rapped, ‘Stand still, dammit I want to see that bruise on your temple.’

Anger at last overrode her caution and she snapped back at him, ‘My bruises have nothing to do with you. Kindly keep your hands to yourself. I don’t like being treated like some circus freak.’

There was a tense, crackling silence then Kirsty said placatingly, ‘The poor wee thing is still a bit confused, Fraser. She’ll need time to settle down.’

‘Aye,’ he observed grimly. ‘And she’ll have to learn some manners while she’s at it. When I ask a question I expect the courtesy of a reply. Perhaps you should go and tell your friends on the Nevay that I’ve no intention of saddling myself with a woman I know nothing about but who seems to be as cold as the sea that gave her birth.’

The threat obviously alarmed Kirsty and she hastened to reassure him again. ‘She’s a lovely little creature, Fraser. Just give her time. All this must be very strange to her.’

The Clan Chief didn’t seem the least bit moved by this desperate appeal to his patience. Glowering beneath his dark brows, he observed drily, ‘I’m getting the feeling that our green-eyed little mermaid thinks we’re a couple of fools.’ He continued to stare at Avalon in an unnerving silence which turned her mouth dry with apprehension, then he questioned her sharply. ‘I want to know how you got yourself washed up on my property last night like a piece of wreckage.’

She was tempted to tell him to go and ask the fairies but thought better of it. He was liable to bite her head off. ‘I was on a boat,’ she muttered. ‘I…I fell overboard and swam ashore.’

He raised a darkly mocking brow. ‘You fell overboard? That was a damned clumsy thing to do. What kind of boat was it?’

She eyed him truculently. ‘A motor-cruiser.’

‘How many people were on board?’

She sighed. ‘Five. Including me.’

‘And none of them saw this…accident happen?’

‘No.’ She avoided his eye. ‘It was dark and I was the only one on deck.’

‘Well, no doubt they’ve discovered your absence by now so presumably they’ll be reporting the incident to the authorities.’

She bit her lip and kept avoiding his eye. ‘Yes. I suppose so.’

He subjected her to another silent scrutiny then he turned towards the door and gestured for her to follow. ‘Right Let’s go.’

His cold, overbearing manner refuelled her anger and she entertained the notion of telling him to go to hell, but once again the danger of the situation she was in demanded caution. If she refused he wouldn’t think twice about slinging her over his shoulder. Until she found some way of getting back to civilisation and out of his clutches she’d no option but to put up with his tyrannical behaviour.

‘Fraser! Wait.’

He turned in the doorway. ‘Yes, Kirsty?’

The older woman looked worried. ‘Be good to her, Fraser. Promise me you’ll look after her. Until the Grand Ceilidh, at least.’

He sighed heavily. ‘You know what my plans are for the Grand Ceilidh.’

‘Aye. But plans can be changed. My…my friends don’t want Pamela here. That’s why they’ve sent Avalon. Please be kind to her.’

The Clan Chief eyed her sternly, then he relented. ‘All right, for your sake, Kirsty, I’ll see that she comes to no harm. She’ll stay with me until the ball and we’ll see what happens.’

Kirsty smiled with relief and Avalon desperately weighed up the chances of making a mad dash for freedom. Anywhere back in the land of reality would do.

As the Land Rover set off along the track she looked at him suspiciously. ‘Where are you taking me? I thought we were going to the village.’

He ignored her question. ‘How did you manage to fall overboard? The sea wasn’t rough last night.’

‘I…I tripped over a rope,’ she lied. ‘I told you. It was dark.’ She knew there was no use telling him the truth. He wouldn’t believe her. No one would.

The Land Rover was bucketing recklessly along the rough, potholed track that skirted the shore and rounded the headland to the south. She clung to her seat grimly and wished the maniac would slow down.

‘What was the name of the boat you were on?’ he shouted, apparently determined to go on with his relentless questioning.

‘C-C-Caprice,’ she told him through chattering teeth.

‘Where was it heading for?’

She glared at him in a temper and raised her voice over the noise of the engine and the rumble of the wheels. ‘I’ve no idea. And I can’t carry on a conversation while I’m being rattled about like this.’

He glanced at her sideways and made no comment, and as soon as his eyes were back on the road she made a face and stuck her tongue out at him. She had to endure another five minutes of the torturous journey then he slammed on the brakes, killed the engine, and got out.

She remained still, her arms folded and her eyes fixed straight ahead. He got out, then went round and opened her door. ‘Get out.’ To her surprise he actually helped her down to the ground. She looked around nervously, wondering what he had in mind for her now. On her left there was nothing but that barren, windswept moor while to her right the ground fell sharply down to the rocky coastline.

‘Why did you stop here?’ she demanded suspiciously.

‘This is where you were found last night.’ He pointed down to the black barnacled rocks. ‘Lying down there. Half-frozen and unconscious.’ He paused, then added quietly, ‘You’re an extremely lucky young lady. Old Gavin MacLean was driving by in his tractor and if he hadn’t looked down and spotted you you’d certainly have died from exposure.’

She tore her gaze away from the rocks and said humbly, ‘Yes. You’re right. If I ever see him I’ll thank him.’

‘You’ll see him,’ he assured her with an ironic smile. ‘In the meantime you can answer a few questions.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t feel like answering any more questions. I don’t see what right you’ve got to subject me to this kind of—’

‘I’ve got every right in the world. You’re not in London now. You’re on my property,’ he reminded her harshly. ‘Technically speaking you’re a trespasser and I could prosecute you. So while you’re here you will do as you’re told and you’ll answer any damned question I feel like asking. Is that clear?’

She gulped. He was like a wolf baring its fangs and she hurried to placate him. ‘All right. Calm down. What do you want to know?’

He gave a satisfied nod and permitted something vaguely resembling a cold smile to flit across his face. ‘That’s better. Now, we’ll start off with your full name.’

‘Avalon Rivers,’ she replied stiffly.

‘How old are you?’

‘Nineteen.’

‘Parents? Where do they live?’

She sniffed and knew she was going to catch a cold. ‘I don’t have any.’ She saw him frown and she explained patiently, ‘I never knew them. I was raised in an orphanage. As far as I know they were killed in a car accident when I was a year old.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ he said quietly.

‘There’s no need to be,’ she assured him tartly. ‘It has nothing to do with you.’

His face hardened again. ‘How about friends? Any close friends?’

A chill wind had sprung up, sending low grey clouds scurrying in from the sea. ‘Only acquaintances.’

‘What about boyfriends?’ he demanded.

She shook her head.

‘Hmmm…’ He gave her a long, sceptical look. ‘An attractive young girl like you without a boyfriend? That’s hard to believe.’

‘And I’m finding all this hard to believe,’ she flared in sudden resentment. ‘If you must know, I had a boyfriend but it’s all over. We had an argument and I told him that he was nothing but a snake and I walked out on him.’

He raised his brows in cold amusement. ‘That sounds interesting. Tell me about it.’

She glared at him, then sighed. ‘Listen…Is all this really necessary?’ The deep growl from his throat decided her that it was and she explained hastily, ‘We worked for the same company. I got an idea for processing the paperwork more efficiently and I told him about it. That very same day he took my idea to one of the directors and pretended it was his. It ended up with him getting the credit and the promotion. Needless to say I told him what I thought of him and walked out in disgust.’

He shook his head. ‘That was stupid. You should have stayed and waited for your chance to get even.’

Yes, she felt like saying. But we’re not all as cold-blooded as you, are we?

‘Did you ever sleep with him or are you still a virgin?’

The bluntness of his question rocked her and her face went red. ‘That’s none of your damn business.’

He growled like an angry bear again. ‘I’m making it my business. You’d better give me an answer or I’ll find out for myself right here and now.’

She glared back at him but the defiance in her eyes turned to horror as he begun unbuckling the belt around his waist. Backing away from him, she gasped, ‘You…you wouldn’t dare.’ But as soon as she’d said the words she knew that she was wrong. This cretin was ruthless enough to do anything. This was his land and he was the lord and master here. Even if there had been anyone around to hear her screaming for help, they’d make sure to keep well out of the way.

‘I—I’ve never slept with any man,’ she said breathlessly. ‘That’s the honest truth. I swear it. Now, don’t you dare touch me.’

He eyed her darkly for a moment then reluctantly he fastened his belt. ‘It had better be the truth,’ he warned her. ‘Because if I do decide to take you as my wife and I find out on our wedding night that you’ve been lying to me you’ll live to regret it.’

‘Well, you’ve got no worries on that score,’ she grated. ‘I’ve no intention of marrying you. In fact, if you were the only man left on this planet I’d stay as far away from you as possible. You’re the most detestable, arrogant—’

‘I don’t think you’ve got any choice in the matter, Miss Rivers,’ he broke in coldly. ‘Your fate is entirely in my hands and you’re going to stay here until I’ve made up my mind whether you’re worthy or not to become First Lady of this Clan.’

She put her hands on her hips, tossed her head and scoffed at him, ‘Is that a fact? And what’s to stop me leaving here right now? If I walk far enough I’ll be bound to reach a main road and get a lift south. Or perhaps you’re hoping that your fairies will turn me into a frog or something?’

A thin smile twisted his lips. ‘Nothing quite as drastic as that. But it’s forty miles of single-track road before you’d ever have a chance of getting a lift. Perhaps two cars a week use the road out of here. The only other way is by boat and since I own all the boats here I merely have to give orders that you’re not to be allowed aboard in any circumstances.’

Filled with a sense of outrage, she spluttered at him, ‘You can’t do that! You can’t keep me here a prisoner against my will!’

His blue eyes mocked her. ‘I can do anything I like with you, my dear girl,’ he said softly. ‘Who’s going to stop me? Your friends from the Caprice?’ He saw her bite her lip and he laughed. ‘I don’t think we need worry about them coming here. Anyway, we’ll talk about them later. At the moment it’s you I’m interested in.’

She shivered and looked at him helplessly. ‘Look—I’m freezing. Are we going to stand here all day?’

‘Yes, if necessary.’ He leaned into the Land Rover, then took out a travelling-rug and handed it to her. ‘Put this around your shoulders.’

She wrapped herself up then wondered if it would do any good appealing to his better nature—always assuming that he had such a thing. ‘Look,’ she said quietly, ‘there isn’t any sense in this, is there? If you want a wife why don’t you choose a local girl? I mean—apart from needing a personality transplant—I’m sure most women find you attractive. But you and I? We don’t even like each other, do we? And please don’t give me all that rubbish about legends and magic fires and fairies. I wasn’t born yesterday.’

The blue eyes measured her coldly, sending another shiver through her in spite of the rug around her shoulders. ‘Kirsty is the one who believes in fairies,’ he snapped. ‘I believe in hard facts. Nevertheless, I respect Kirsty. Everyone here does. That’s why I’ve promised her that I’ll look after you.’

‘Until you’ve made up your mind whether I’m worth marrying or not,’ she observed drily. ‘My feelings don’t even matter to you, do they?’

‘You’ve only got yourself to blame for the position you’re in,’ he said coldly. ‘No one invited you here. I’ve got better things to do than play nursemaid to a bad-tempered little teenager. Your presence here is going to cause me considerable problems.’

‘Well, I’m sorry. If I’d known I was going to be all this trouble I’d have just let myself drown instead of swimming.’

He ignored her sarcasm. ‘One fact I can’t ignore is that Kirsty seems to like you. Whatever it is she sees in you eludes me for the moment, but I’m going to find out.’

She challenged him again, indignantly. I’m sure there are plenty of women here who’d jump at the chance of being your wife. Why pick on me? I’m entitled to know that, at least.’

‘You’re still a stranger,’ he told her bluntly. ‘All a stranger is entitled to here is food, shelter and hospitality—which you’ve been given.’

She glared at him in silent exasperation, then tried a new idea. ‘I don’t know anything about you, this part of the country, or the people. I wouldn’t fit in here and I’m certainly not worthy enough to be the First Lady of anything. I was shunted from one foster home to another when I was a kid. I’ve got no breeding whatsoever. You’re just wasting your time with me.’

Those damned eyes of his mocked her again and he growled, ‘Aye. I suspect you’re right. But I’m the one who decides, not you. So from now on, Miss Rivers, you’ll answer my questions without resorting to lies or evasion. Is that clear?’

‘I’m not in the habit of telling lies,’ she retorted angrily. ‘And I object to the way you—’

His voice cut through her protestation like a blade of cold steel. ‘Like you, I wasn’t born yesterday. If a boat has only got five crew and one of them suddenly disappears the others are bound to notice sooner or later, wouldn’t you agree? First thing this morning I contacted the nearest coastguard station to find out if any ship had reported a missing crew member. Well, no such report had been made. How do you account for that, Miss Rivers?’

‘Perhaps they…they haven’t got round to reporting it yet,’ she said evasively.

Suddenly her shoulder was grabbed in a vice-like grip and he thrust his face closer to hers. ‘They didn’t make any report because they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. That’s the truth, isn’t it, Miss Rivers?’

She ran her tongue nervously over her lips. The man’s anger was like an icy blast from the polar wastes, chilling her to the marrow. ‘L-look,’ she stammered. ‘I—I—’

‘Save your breath,’ he grated. ‘Two hours after you were found on this beach last night a motor-cruiser called Caprice tied up at a deserted pier fifteen miles north of here. The police and Customs were waiting and your friends are now in custody.’

Her feeling of relief that Smith and his confederates had been caught was short-lived at the realisation that she was now being accused of being part of the gang. In wide-eyed consternation she blurted, ‘You…you’ve got it all wrong.’

‘Have I?’ he asked, with harsh scepticism. ‘By your own admission you were a member of the crew. And if you hadn’t “accidentally” fallen overboard you, too, would be in custody.’

She winced at the pressure of his hand. ‘Let go my shoulder, damn you. You’re hurting me.’

When he let her go she glared up at him. ‘All right! So I did lie to you. But I was just the cook on that damned boat. I didn’t know what they were up to. And I didn’t fall overboard. I jumped.’ She paused and gave a bitter sigh. ‘It’s a long story and you probably wouldn’t believe a word of it, anyway.’

He studied her shrewdly, then growled, ‘I might. But no more lies. Understand? If you aren’t part of that gang then what were you doing on the boat in the first place?’

‘I told you,’ she muttered. ‘I was just the cook.’ ‘So you say,’ he derided. ‘But you’ll have to do better than that.’

‘Dammit! I’m telling you the truth.’

‘How long had you been working for them?’

She sighed. ‘Only a few days. I met them in Portugal. My hotel room—’

‘What were you doing in Portugal?’

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he’d wrung every last detail from her so she began again. ‘After the row with my ex-boyfriend I quit my job and decided to take a holiday.’

‘To mend your broken heart, no doubt.’

She ignored the sarcastic interruption and went on. ‘I drew all my savings from the bank, locked up my flat and caught the first available plane. Anyway, I spent the next two weeks swimming and lazing around on the beach and vowing that no man would ever use me or make a fool of me again.’ She paused and eyed him bitterly. ‘Of course I was wrong, as usual, wasn’t I?’

His face was unreadable and she continued reluctantly, ‘It was the day before I was due to come home when someone broke into my hotel apartment and I lost everything. Money, passport, clothes…’

She had hardly been able to believe her eyes at first when she’d seen the empty drawers and overturned mattress. She’d only been gone for ten minutes and her room had been ransacked! Whoever had done it must have climbed up on to the balcony and entered through the open window.

In a fury she had run downstairs to the reception desk and reported the break-in to the manager.

He was sympathetic but adamant that she had no claim against the hotel. ‘Madam should have made sure that the window was securely latched before she went out,’ he said. They would inform the police, of course, but there was little hope of catching the culprit and recovering her property. Surely madam had taken out insurance against this sort of thing happening?

Madam hadn’t, and she turned from the desk in dismay. With the loose change in her pocket she had barely enough left to buy lunch. And how was she going to get home tomorrow without a plane ticket? She couldn’t even think of anyone in London who could forward her a loan. With her spirits at zero she made her way outside and stood on the broad tree-lined pavement completely at a loss as to what to do now.

‘They weren’t much help, were they? I couldn’t help overhearing.’

She turned at the sound of the voice and looked at the middle-aged man who’d followed her out Instinctively on her guard, she took in his appearance. He seemed harmless enough, but you never could tell. At least he was well-dressed and groomed. The typical English gentleman abroad. Dark blazer and flannels and some sort of regimental tie over an immaculately white shirt. He had a clipped moustache and a friendly smile on his rather bland face.

‘No, they weren’t,’ she answered at last. ‘But it was my own stupid fault.’

‘Damned awkward being stranded in a foreign country,’ he sympathised. He held out his hand. ‘I’m Roger Smith. Here with my wife and a couple of friends.’