Escape from Desire

‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll find some way of passing the time.’ The leer which accompanied the words made Tamara feel almost faint with fresh revulsion.

She stood with her back to the door until she heard it close and Zach move softly behind her, tension tightening her shoulders.

‘What’s going to happen to us?’

She hated herself for asking the question; for sounding like a helpless emotional woman, and her fingers curled protestingly into her palms as though to deny the impression created by her words.

‘For the moment—nothing. I’m sorry you had to be involved in this.’

‘It wasn’t your fault. At least you managed to persuade them to free the others.’

‘We have to talk,’ said Zach.

‘About what?’

‘About how we’re going to get out of here,’ he said calmly. ‘There’s no point in placing any reliance on them freeing us. The days are gone when governments gave in to the threats of groups like the Red Brigade.’

Tamara felt faint. ‘You mean …’

‘I mean God helps those who help themselves,’ he told her curtly. ‘Our only chance is to escape.’

As though he was aware of the effect of his brutal disclosure he came towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders and swinging her round to face him.

‘I’m not saying this just for the sheer hell of it. We have to face facts. We’ve been taken hostage by a small-time group of terrorists who probably know as well as we do that their Government won’t free their comrades, but that the death of two innocent holidaymakers will get them worldwide newspaper coverage.’

‘But you’ve already promised them that,’ Tamara protested, not wanting to believe him.

‘They want to make an impact; surely you’re familiar with the scenario by now? They aren’t the first group to try something like this, and they won’t be the last.’

‘No. There was that African coup last month. I read about it in the papers. The S.A.S. went in, didn’t they?’

‘Two dozen of them,’ Zach agreed harshly, ‘to rescue two men; twenty-six in all, but only eighteen got out alive …’

‘I didn’t read that.’ She frowned. Zach’s face was almost grey in the harsh lamplight, etched with bitterness and a weary cynicism she had come to recognise.

‘You wouldn’t,’ he told her grimly. ‘We don’t publicise our failures—it’s bad for morale.’

We! Her heart thudded to a standstill, her eyes mirroring her disbelief.

‘Oh yes, it’s quite true. I’m not hallucinating. I was there. I was the one responsible for losing eight lives.’ He swore viciously under his breath, and then added contemptuously, ‘Oh, on paper it wasn’t my fault. There

was no way we could have known about the bomb. But they were my men. They followed me, and I led them to their death.’

‘And your accident?’ Tamara’s throat ached with pity, her mouth dry as she was caught up in his tension.

‘You want to see what the debris from a bomb does to the human body, do you?’ he demanded savagely, ripping open the buttons of his shirt and removing it in a violent motion. ‘Then take a good look!’

Somehow she managed not to betray her shock at the sight of the scars still livid and raw against the taut tanned surface of his skin.

‘So that’s why you always wear a shirt.’ She swallowed, unable to stop her eyes moving downwards, and as though he read her mind he said softly, ‘You want more?’

‘Stop it! Stop tormenting yourself!’

‘Myself? I thought you were the one I was tormenting, or aren’t you going to admit that the sight of my body made you feel sick? Of course it doesn’t affect all women that way. There are some—those who are sick themselves, who actually enjoy looking at this sort of thing.’ He grimaced bitterly. ‘When I left Africa I told myself there was no way I was ever going back to the jungle. The gods must be laughing at me right now.’

Tamara remembered how tense he had been earlier on and her heart was touched with pity.

Sounds outside the door made her stiffen and glance uncertainly towards him. The next instant she was in his arms, the fierce heat of his body pressed against hers, his hands sliding beneath the wet fabric of her tee-shirt, one holding her helplessly against him, while the other covered the soft swell of her breast.