Follow a Stranger

He spoke little English, but Pallas translated for him,

while also acting as chaperone.

Kate spent the afternoon on the stone patio, with

Sam and Pallas, lying on well-sprung canvas loungers

enjoying the sunshine.

The storm seemed to have blown quite away, leaving

the island calm and peaceful. Out of the wind the air

was warm and still. The sun seemed almost hot on her

bare back and legs.

She wore her new bikini, two delicate scraps of black

cotton which emphasised her slender waist. Sam rubbed

sun lotion into her skin, offering to perform the same

task for Pallas.

“My complexion is intended for this climate,” she

claimed triumphantly. “The sun is kind to me. I never

use those things.”

Kate was very tired this afternoon. Her experiences

of yesterday had left her weary, and she drifted into

sleep as she lay on the lounger. She did not hear Sam

and Pallas get up and go off to play tennis, and they,

considering her, decided it would be kinder to leave her.

She slept on for several hours, her skin beginning to

redden as the sun poured down upon it, then woke with

a stifled cry of pain as a hand touched her red shoulder.

Marc was crouching beside her, his face set grimly.

“Now look at you!” he said furiously. “You have given

yourself sunburn! I can’t take my eyes off you for five

&

nbsp; seconds without you getting into some scrape or other!”

She turned and sat upright, wincing at the agony of