Dark Avenger Page 7

  He shrugged. ‘The choice is simple. Either I attempt it or we stay here and wait for some passing ship to come to our aid. That might take anything up to a week…’ He paused and something devilish moved in the depths of his green eyes. ‘You don’t suppose it was fate that brought us here, do you, Carrie?’

  ‘Fate?’ She didn’t like the sound of this.

  ‘An ideal spot. Secluded…no chance of being disturbed—’

  ‘It’s dark in that tunnel,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll get you a torch.’

  Five minutes later, armed with the torch in one hand and a wrench in the other, he wriggled himself head first into the opening. Inch by inch his upper body disappeared, then his legs and finally his feet.

  For a moment or two she paced around with a feeling of absolute helplessness. That was going to be the hardest part to bear, the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to make his job easier. She’d derived a lot of satisfaction out of watching him toiling up and down Kati’s hill with the water but this was different. The conditions in that tunnel must be hellish. Hot…airless…claustrophobic as a sealed coffin.

  Bending down, she called up, ‘Nikos? Are you all right?’

  The answer was a muffled grunt and she bit her lip. What if something happened to him? What if he got cramp, or passed out through lack of air? How would she get him out? Crawl in, tie a rope around his ankles and drag his inert body out? No. That certainly didn’t sound like a feasible proposition.

  Dammit! She should have stopped him. She’d put his life in danger because she’d been too scared to spend a week here alone with him. She knew what would happen. Even if he did act as if he had more respect for her now she doubted if that would deflect him from his original plan. It was going to happen sooner or later so why not here? Anyway. .. could she afford to deny him any longer? She was in danger of forgetting the most important thing of all and that was to have Jimmy returned to her safe and sound.

  ‘Nikos!’ she yelled up the tunnel again and was answered by a fainter reply. It sounded as if he was somewhere in the bowels of the earth.

  She thought about going to make some coffee because he’d be needing it when he came out and she was on the point of leaving when she hesitated. Suppose something happened and he started shouting for help while she was gone? Indecisively she squatted by the end of the tunnel and nibbled at her thumbnail.

  Suddenly she heard a banging noise and then a few moments later Nikos was yelling at her from a million miles away, ‘Go to the wheelhouse. See if the wheel is any freer.’

  Obediently she ran to the wheelhouse and spun the wheel backwards and forwards then she returned to the end of the tunnel and shouted in, ‘It’s free.’

  ‘Good. I’m coming out.’

  The tension drained from her and with a feeling of deep relief she watched as he slowly emerged feet first. Then his legs were free, then his hips, and then her feeling of relief turned to one of tender pity when she saw the condition he was in. The bruises and lacerations on his back and shoulders were clearly visible beneath the coating of oil and grease.

  When he was completely out he straightened up painfully and flexed his cramped joints and muscles. ‘One of the rods had buckled,’ he explained. ‘I managed to fix it.’

  ‘You need a hot shower,’ she observed, looking him up and down.

  ‘Yes. I need a hot shower,’ he agreed. He glanced down at his chest and stomach, which were every bit as bad as his back. ‘I’m not going to argue with that.’

  She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice businesslike. ‘You go below now. I’ll be down in five minutes.’

  The devil was back in his green eyes again. ‘Are we going to shower together?’

  ‘No, we’re not,’ she retorted. ‘But your back is in a terrible state. You won’t be able to wash it properly by yourself. And I’ll need to put some antiseptic cream on those cuts.’

  He gave a slow, ironic nod. ‘I see. This is your natural maternal instinct crying out, is it? Or does the prospect of touching my body fill you with excitement?’

  She flushed at the suggestion and said angrily, ‘I’m only trying to be helpful but if that’s what you think of me then go ahead and get blood poisoning for all I care.’

  He raised a placating hand. ‘All right. I apologise. It’s just that I find your sudden concern for my welfare a bit surprising. During the storm it was understandable but I can’t help wondering what your motive is now. Nevertheless it’s appreciated.’ A smile of gentle mockery flitted across his face then he said gravely, ‘I’ll expect you in five minutes.’

  As she watched him disappear down the hatchway she unclenched her fists. That was what happened when you felt sorry for someone and tried to help them, she thought bitterly. Perhaps she’d put sand in the ointment just to teach him a lesson.

  The accommodation on the Miranda was no larger than it had been in her days as a fishing boat with a crew of four but the layout had been altered. The steps down led to the galley, which contained nothing more than a sink, a small Calorgas cooker and a gas-operated fridge. There was a bolted-down table and bench of plain wood. Forward of that were the ‘cabins’, which were merely two curtained-off sections, each containing a bunk and simple dressing-table and wardrobe. Forward of the cabins another curtained-off section contained the toilet and shower.

  As she approached it now she could hear the hiss of water and see the clouds of steam rising. Standing next to the curtain, she shouted his name. ‘Nikos!’

  The plastic curtain was pulled aside and he blinked the water from his eyes. ‘You’re early.’

  Knowing him by now, she’d been prepared for this, and she looked at him calmly. ‘No, I’m not. Now please turn round and face the wall.’

  When he’d reluctantly complied with her order she worked up a lather on her hands with the soap and then ran them gently over his shoulders and up and down his back.

  ‘I’m not hurting you, am I?’ she asked.

  He turned his head sideways and growled, ‘I didn’t even know you’d started. Rub harder, woman. I’m not a delicate ornament.’

  Narrowing her eyes, she reached up and dug her fingers into the hard flesh of his shoulders and kneaded it vigorously.

  ‘Is that better?’

  ‘Perfect. Do that all over and I’ll feel like a new man.’

  Five minutes later she stopped and said, ‘That’s as far as I’m going. You can do the rest yourself. When you’ve made yourself respectable come down to the galley and I’ll put the ointment on your back.’

  Her own clothes were still damp from the storm, and the splashing from the shower hadn’t helped. In the privacy of her ‘cabin’ she stripped off and changed, then she went to the galley and filled the chipped enamel coffee-pot.

  The thought that had occurred to her earlier now returned to torment her. Perhaps Nikos was right and it really was fate that had driven the Miranda to this secluded inlet. As he’d said, it was an ideal spot. And she’d only been delaying the inevitable. And let’s face up to it, Carrie, she thought; I mean, let’s at least be honest and admit it. You’re burning up for him, aren’t you? If he took you in his arms right now you’d surrender without a murmur of protest. Yes, but…

  Yes, but. That was the trouble, wasn’t it? she thought bleakly. He was ready enough to tease and raise her to fever pitch but the ultimate decision was to be hers and hers alone. That was the price of Jimmy’s freedom. She was the one who’d have to do the asking!

  She knew only too well what would happen then. He’d accept the spoils of his victory but in his heart he’d despise her. After all, that was his stated intention, wasn’t it? To punish her brother by humiliating her. But if she allowed that to happen she’d earn nothing but his scorn and contempt, and that would be too hard to bear because she was beginning to care what he thought about her! For some utterly insane reason she was falling in love with the impossible creature.

  She’d just finished brewing the coffee
when she heard his soft footfalls approaching the galley and with a deep breath she pulled herself together. He was wearing nothing but a pair of clean jeans. Gesturing at the bench, she said, ‘Sit astride that.’

  She poured him a hot, sweet coffee then settled herself on the bench behind him and dipped her fingers into the ointment. ‘This may sting a bit,’ she said apologetically.

  He sipped his coffee unconcernedly and gently she applied the cream to the worst of the abrasions and cuts. ‘Are.. .are you sure I’m not hurting you?’ she asked.

  ‘Only my patience,’ he growled. ‘Get on with it.’

  Biting her lip, she went on with the treatment.

  ‘There,’ she said firmly. ‘That should stop any infection.’

  He flexed his stiff shoulders then turned on the bench to sit facing her. ‘What about the scratches on my chest and stomach?’

  Her gaze dropped away. ‘You can do those yourself.’

  He held up his hands which were clasping the mug of coffee, ‘I can’t. As you can see, my hands are full.’

  Hiding her discomfort behind a sarcastic smile, she dipped her fingers into the ointment once more and said, ‘Well, we can’t keep the lord and master from his well earned coffee, can we?’

  She dealt with his chest first, her fingers gliding over the smooth skin and her mind desperately trying to distance itself from the feeling of dark excitement coursing through her body.

  Lower down there was a long scratch across the taut flatness of his stomach and by now her bloodpressure was putting a pink flush on her face.

  When that had been seen to he unbuckled his belt and loosened the waist of his jeans. ‘What about this one?’

  She gulped as she saw the other scratch running downwards from his navel and as she tenderly applied the ointment she felt that strange aching weakness in her thighs. Quickly she got to her feet and said with forced brightness, ‘Well, that’s you taken care of. Now I think you should——’ She gave a gasp of surprise as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to the bench again.

  ‘Don’t be in such a hurry.’ His voice was pleasant but insistent. ‘All good nurses should take time off to chat with their patients. It’s good for morale, they say.’

  The smile she gave back was also pleasant—and wary. ‘I’m not a nurse. I only put some—’

  ‘But you have the heart and the hands of a nurse,’ he went on in a voice pitched deliberately low and vibrant. ‘Tender and caring.’ He released her suddenly then eyed her with blatant provocation. ‘Those hands of yours were the first thing I noticed when we first met. Your hands and your cornflower-blue eyes. There wasn’t much else of you visible, I grant. Only an oil-streaked face that might or might not have been beautiful.’

  ‘Yes, well, let’s forget that, shall we?’ She looked away in embarrassment and quickly changed the subject. ‘There’s nothing more I can do here. I’m going up to repair the roof on the wheelhouse.’

  His eyes continued to dwell on her, in disturbing, contemplative silence, then he got to his feet. ‘That’s a man’s job. I’ll do it. You can look in the fridge and decide what we’re going to have for dinner this evening.’

  As soon as he’d gone she released a long, trembling breath and wiped the perspiration from her brow. It would have to be tonight. She couldn’t hold out any longer. She looked at the pot of coffee and shook her head. What she needed was two large double brandies. Instead she settled for a long hot shower.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CARRIE had put it off as long as she could and when she went up on deck some time later the sun was getting ready to dip below the western horizon. The last rays were turning the sands of the inlet a deep rosy pink and the first star of the evening was shining in the east. She took a deep breath of the fragrant air then spread the blankets on the deck by the side of the wheelhouse. When she looked up she saw Nikos grinning down at her.

  ‘They’re to sit on,’ she explained calmly. ‘I thought we’d have our meal on deck. It’s too warm below.’

  For a moment she could almost feel his eyes surgically peeling away at her skin layer by layer until he could read her very soul, then he murmured lazily, ‘That sounds like a very good idea, Carrie. I can tell that this is going to be a meal to remember.’

  Still struggling to maintain a pretence of normality, she said, ‘It’ll be dark in a few minutes. There are a couple of storm lanterns in the wheelhouse locker.’

  His lips stretched in a smile of anticipation. ‘I’ll fetch them. I like to see what I’m…eating.’

  When she went below again she made straight for her cabin and studied her reflection nervously in the mirror. Hurriedly she applied the brush again to her long blonde hair and retied it with a fresh black ribbon. Still not satisfied with her appearance but realising that it was too late now to do anything about it, she returned to the galley. Checking that everything they’d need for the meal was in the basket, she took a deep breath then carried it up to the deck.

  Nikos had hung the two storm lanterns on the side of the wheelhouse. He’d also switched on the radio and the strains of the Vienna Philharmonic, courtesy of an Athens radio station, floated gently on the evening air. Laying down the basket, she walked to the stern and drank in the view.

  The spectacular sunset had also drawn Nikos and they stood side by side in reverent silence watching the fiery descent into the sea. Darkness followed swiftly as the sky turned from crimson to deep purple. One by one the stars came out and the sea slumbered peacefully, tired, no doubt, after its exhausting day.

  Neither of them spoke as they made their way back along the deck. In the soft yellow light of the lanterns she squatted on the blanket and opened the basket. Pulling out the wine and the glasses, she handed him the bottle. ‘You pour.’

  He held it up to the light and read the label. ‘Danielis! Well, you’re full of little surprises, aren’t you?’

  ‘I have a crate of the stuff,’ she told him casually. ‘It was part-payment for a job I did. I only bring it out on special occasions.’

  He raised an innocent eyebrow. ‘And what special occasion are we celebrating tonight?’

  She gave a delicate shrug of her shoulders. ‘Our deliverance from the storm? I’d call that a reason for celebrating, wouldn’t you?’ Without waiting for an answer, she brought out a large dish and lifted the cover. ‘Cold chicken and orange segments. That’s the best I could do.’

  When he nodded in approval she forked a large helping on to a plate and handed it to him. ‘There’s plenty of tinned stuff but none of it goes with the wine.’ It was a pretty feeble joke made in an attempt to hide her nervousness but she had a feeling that it was a waste of time. Anyway, she was entitled to feel nervous, wasn’t she? Just exactly how did you go about asking a man to make love to you?

  Perhaps the wine would help, she thought as she watched him pour. A couple of bottles of that stuff should be enough to make her lose her inhibitions. As far as she could recall remaining sober hadn’t been part of the deal.

  He looked even more devastating than usual sitting there, she thought. Something to do with the lantern glow…and the starlight…and the deep shadows on his chest…and the…She tore her eyes away before he made some comment about the way she was staring at him.

  ‘We can make an early start in the morning,’ she said, trying to get a casual conversation going. ‘Make up for lost time.’

  ‘We might,’ he drawled lazily. ‘Then again we might grow to like this place, and if I can find some way of amusing myself…well…who knows?’

  ‘A-amuse yourself?’

  He just smiled at her enigmatically and speared another piece of chicken.

  This was ridiculous, she thought. He knew damn well what was going to happen and he was deliberately making it as difficult as possible for her. Surely he wasn’t going to stick to the letter of his threat? He wasn’t going to wait until she got down on her knees and pleaded with him, was he? Good God! Maybe he was.

  His g
reen eyes seemed to be glowing at her in the dark. Just like a tiger’s. A jungle predator ready to pounce and devour its victim.

  Steeling herself, she put her hand out. ‘Nikos?’

  She prayed for him to take it and pull her roughly towards him. Her heart was hammering and her body aching.

  He looked at her hand for a moment then straight into her eyes. ‘Yes, Carrie?’

  ‘Do…do you want…want to—Her voice broke. The words just wouldn’t come. They’d never come—not without help.

  ‘Want to what, Carrie?’ he asked softly.

  He was enjoying this cat-and-mouse game, she thought bleakly. It suited a man of his type to watch his victims squirm.

  The tortured silence stretched between them until he said with mock-sympathy, ‘You seem to have lost your tongue. You want some more wine, is that it?’ He took her glass and refilled it. ‘It’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. It’s a very good wine. I’m going to have some more myself.’

  Her hand shook as she took the glass from him, then she turned her head away from those searching eyes. What kind of dark and potent power did this man have? He was a callous, cold-hearted devil, so why, in spite of everything, did she still feel this maddening desire to be in his arms and feel his lips on hers? There was no use pretending that this had anything to do with saving Jimmy. This was for her and her alone. So why? Was it some flaw in her character—some in-built self-destruct button?

  Nikos finished his meal then pushed his plate to the side and helped himself to another glass. ‘The hourly news bulletin was on the radio while you were below,’ he remarked casually. ‘They were describing the storm. It seems to have been even worse than we thought.’

  Something in his tone made her forget her own problems for a moment. There was an affinity between people like her who made their living on the sea and the fate of one touched them all. ‘Were there any casualties?’ she asked quickly.

  He shook his head. ‘Fortunately no. But there was a lot of damage. The Skipos ferry ran aground and at least a dozen yachts capsized.’ He paused then looked at her significantly. ‘I could have been a casualty. It’s only thanks to you that I wasn’t.’