Crescendo

'He's on a walking tour and he's going to stay in the village.' She turned her head to look at him, frowning. 'Why?'

'You shouldn't talk to strangers. You don't know anything about him.'

'I don't know anything about you,' she pointed our. 'You're a stranger.' In many ways he was far more of a stranger than Tom Hutton, whose kind honesty lay written in his- flushed, fair face. Tom was a straightforward young man; one only had to look at him to see that. He did not have Gideon Firth's complexity or dark side.

'You know what I mean,' he brushed aside with an irritable shrug.

'No,' she contradicted, 'I don't.' She had thought she knew him by now, but that incident when he spoke with such cold ferocity to the woman with sunglasses had altered her whole view of him. She did not know the reasons for it, but she did know this—the woman had been distressed and emotional and Gideon had treated her with icy indifference. Marina found that disturbing.

Gideon halted and turned towards her, his face tense. 'I wouldn't hurt you, Marina, but you can't be sure about other people.'

'Tom wouldn't hurt anybody.' She knew that even after five minutes with him. It had been written in his open friendly face.

Gideon drew a strange, impeded breath. 'You can't be certain of that. Stay away from him. I didn't like the way he looked at you.'

Her eyes rounded in disbelief and surprise. 'What on earth do you mean?' Tom? she thought.

What nonsense! Gideon is talking nonsense.

Gideon seemed lost for words. He was frowning, his mouth straight, his jaw stiff, and she could feel a turmoil inside him, as though he were searching for a way of saying whatever it was he wanted to say, and not finding it. The frustration and im­patience came out in what he did say which was curt and irrelevant. 'What did he mean—was I your father? For

God's sake, do I look as if I've got a child your age?'

Marina laughed because his fury was out of pro­portion, it amused and softened her towards him because it indicated such vulnerability, a personal sense of insult.

'Poor Gideon!'

He caught the teasing amusement in her voice and swung towards her with a glint in the dark eyes.

'Don't laugh at me, damn you!'

'I'm sorry.' She couldn't help it, he looked so furious. Was that what had made him detest Tom on sight? Was Gideon sensitive to his age? 'I don't suppose Tom really noticed you much.'

His face changed. 'No,' he agreed. 'He was too damned busy looking at you.'

She felt herself colour and a faint quiver ran over her. Their eyes met and Gideon touched her arm, his fingertips caressing.

'Marina.' There was something in his voice which made her prickle with awareness of him. He glanced sideways along the path and then he suddenly lowered his head and kissed her hard, holding her with both hands locked on her slender shoulders, pulling her against him.

For a moment she was too surprised and shaken by his probing kiss to be aware of anything else, then she heard the quiet tread of feet somewhere close beside them. Gideon slowly drew back his head and Marina looked past him to see Tom Hut- ton's fair head vanishing towards the village.

Flushed, she looked at Gideon and saw a wilful satisfaction in his face.

'You did that deliberately!' she accused.

He grinned, pleased with himself. 'Did what?'

'Why?' she demanded.

'I don't know what you mean,' said Gideon, and turned and walked towards the cottage, pulling her after him like a child, his fingers tight around her wrist.

Marina was angry with him for kissing her like that for Tom to see. She knew he had done it de­liberately. He had been warning Tom off—that was too obvious to miss. But why? What right did he think he had to do such a thing?

As they entered the cottage Grandie looked round with that curious anxiety in his face and the anxiety grew as he took in Marina's hot, angry face and the way Gideon was dragging her after him.

'What's wrong?' he asked hoarsely.

'Ask him,' Marina said crossly, freeing herself with a yank of her arm.