Master of Comus

'Oh, you'd get on famously together,' she snapped. 'You have so much in common—glib tongues, a fast line in cheap patter and not a shred of genuine feeling in your souls.' -

'Ouch!' His blue eyes narrowed. 'I gather the gentleman left you somewhat disillusioned.'

'He left me for an heiress,' she informed him bitterly. 'To do him credit, the experience probably did me good. I learnt a lot from him.'

'None of it very pleasant, apparently.'

Her lip curled. 'Education often proves unpleasant.'

'You loved him?' The question shot at her abruptly.

Her brown eyes shifted, then the thick black lashes descended to veil her expression. 'You ask too many questions.'

'My dear, it's obvious,' he drawled. 'Such bitterness could only have been bred by love. Well, you're well rid of him, if that's any comfort to you. I can't say I'm flattered by the comparison, however. To my knowledge I've never hunted heiresses.'

You don't need to,' she retorted. 'You use the same techniques for different purposes.'

He put out a long finger to touch her cheek, and her skin tightened under the touch. 'Poor little thing! You've been through the fire, haven't you? Unlucky all round—with your family first, then your love affair. No wonder you're as stony as that hillside out there.'

She found his gentleness too weakening. Moving away, she turned her back on him to stare out of the window at the dark night sky. 'I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed,' she said.

'I'm astonished,' he said. 'I hadn't thought you were a coward.'

She turned angrily, met his amused gaze and was forced to laugh. 'No, really. I'm exhausted.'

The blue eyes laughed. 'I believe you, despite appearances. Sleep well.'

Leonie went upstairs to her own room and stood in the darkness for a moment waiting for her heart to calm down. At a distance Paul Caprel had had a romantic glamour which was enthralling. She found his actual presence far more potent. Common sense, so long instilled, so much part of her nature now, warned against taking any part of his charm seriously. It was second nature to the man to flirt with every available female. He was another Leo, as she had told him, smooth-tongued and plausible, yet basically not to be trusted.

'I'll never fall in love like that again,' she told the warm, scented night, and wished she believed her words herself.

CHAPTER TWO

DAWN conferred a cool sweetness on the island air. Under the pines which shaded the beach path a small grey lizard scuttled in search of flies, and the sea thistles were alive with gaudy butterflies, with long forked tails, flicking to and fro with easy grace.

Leonie had awoken at first light and gone downstairs to find the servants moving about quietly on sandalled feet. Her appearance created something of a stir, but Clyte was sent for, and persuaded her to sit down in the breakfast room and eat some rolls and fruit with a pot of strong coffee.

Still not certain as to Clyte's actual role in the household, although convinced of her importance to Argon, Leonie enquired as to the possibilities of swimming on the beach. Clyte smiled, her gold-filled teeth glinting against her pale gums.

'Of course, my dear, of course you may swim. You have brought a costume?'

Leonie nodded. 'I hoped I would get a chance to sunbathe.'

Clyte's pale old eyes surveyed her. 'YOU have a good skin for taking the sun. A Greek colouring.'

After breakfast, Leonie went up to her room to fetch a large towel and swimming costume, then found her way down the beach path with Clyte's directions as a guide. The way was stony and difficult, but at last she emerged on the beach; changed behind a large rock and ran down into the tantalising coolness of the water.

She swam like a fish, diving under the blue swell of the waves now and then, or floating and staring up at the concealing canopy of the sky. As the sun climbed the skies the refreshing coolness left the beach and it grew hotter. She spread her towel on the sand and lay down on her stomach. After a while she anointed herself with sun-tan lotion and turned over on to her back. The heat of the sun made her drowsy. Her lids flickered and closed.

She did not hear the soft grate of sandals on sand until Paul spoke to her.

'You must be careful, you know. This sun is deceptive. You don't want sunstroke.'

She reluctantly opened her eyes. He stood over her, very tall and long-limbed, in dark swim trunks, a towel over one arm. His tanned face wore a sardonic mask as he contemplated her long, slender half-naked body, travelling openly over the pointed swell of her breasts, her flat stomach and slim thighs.

Flushing, she sat up and drew her knees up to her chin as if to hide herself.

He crouched beside her and picked up the bottle of lotion. 'I'll put some of this on your back. Time you turned over.'