‘Rorke, do you love me?’ she murmured softly.
For a moment she sensed his withdrawal and then he was saying smoothly, ‘Of course I love you, Lisa, who wouldn’t—but right now I think it’s time you were back in your virginal bed, don’t you?
She wanted to tell him that she would far rather spend the night in his arms, in his bed, but somehow she couldn’t find the words. Indeed she was surprised that he hadn’t suggested it himself, If she had been Helen! But she wasn’t Helen, she reminded herself. She was herself, and Rorke loved her, and surely once they returned to St Martin’s and he had told his father, they would be married?
They started the return journey to St Martin’s, earlier than had been planned. There was a storm warning, Rorke explained to Lisa when she joined him for breakfast, feeling shyly selfconscious in some of her new separates, and he wanted to get under way as quickly as possible.
‘You’re not sorry—about what happened last night, are you?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘Not half as sorry as I am about what didn’t,’ Rorke responded sardonically. ‘Lisa, do you have the faintest idea of what you’re letting yourself in for? You’re barely seventeen—you haven’t even begun to taste life.’
‘Rorke, I love you!’
‘So you keep telling me, and I’m selfish enough to want to believe it. I ought to send you away, for two years at least, but I can’t risk losing you. I love you too much.’
‘What do you think Leigh will say?’
‘Well, let’s put it this way,’ Rorke retorted wryly. ‘I don’t think it’s going to come as a complete surprise. Something tells me he’s already guessed how I feel about you. In fact I wouldn’t put it past him to have engineered this trip with a view to flinging us together. He’s been at great pains to point out to me how quickly you’re growing up—Growing up! Dear God, and to think I once thought it was only old men in their dotage who found pubescent children physically desirable!’
‘I’m not a child,’ Lisa protested, hating the cynicism in his eyes and voice. ‘In another month I’ll be seventeen—another year and…’
‘And you’ll be eighteen—I can count, Lisa. Come on,’ he said abruptly. ‘Get your things together and I’ll check us out. If we leave now we should make it back to St Martins before the weather breaks.’
They left Castries harbour an hour later. The sky was completely free of cloud, but there was a certain dull brassiness about the sun that made Lisa conscious that the storm forecast could not be lightly ignored.
This time there was no question of her staying below. Like Rorke she had changed into her frayed denim shorts, and her body pulsated with excitement as his eyes narrowed over the curves of her breasts, outlined by the stretchy fabric of her tee shirt, as he helped her aboard.
‘We’d better use full sail and the auxiliary engine,’ Rorke announced laconically once they were both on board. ‘I don’t like the colour of that sky.’
They had completed just over a quarter of their journey, and Rorke was busy checking their progress in the wheelhouse when he suddenly called to Lisa.
‘Damn, we’re getting so much interference I can’t do a thing with the radio. These electric storms play havoc with the equipment.’ The wind had started to pick up and Lisa was relieved when he came back to join her, checking on the sails, frowning occasionally as the schooner started to pick up speed.
‘Hell!’ he swore softly. ‘By the looks of it we’re heading right for the storm. It must have changed course. I wish to God we could get some decent radio signals.
‘Go below and put on a lifejacket, will you, Lisa,’ he instructed curtly, ‘and bring one up for me. Don’t look like that,’ he added when he saw the concern in her eyes. ‘I’m just taking precautions.’
‘How bad is it going to be, Rorke?’ Lisa asked him steadily, her eyes reminding him that she was no longer a child to be placated.
For a moment she thought he was going to fob her off, but suddenly he grimaced and said, ‘Bad enough—it’s not a hurricane, but it isn’t going to be far short. This morning’s forecast suggested that we would be out of the main path. Let’s just hope that things continue that way. Right now I’d feel one hell of a lot better if we could make radio contact.’
After that there wasn’t much opportunity for conversation. Rorke snapped out curt orders which Lisa obeyed automatically, and between them somehow they kept the schooner on course as the wind increased in strength and the sea ran steadily higher, waves crashing down over the boat’s bows as she sliced swiftly through the turbulence, but even Lisa could see that the weather was deteriorating rather than improving. The sky had turned a dull yellow-bronze, and Rorke had to shout his instructions over the keening of the wind as it tore at the sails.
‘We’re carrying too much sail,’ he announced at one point. ‘We’re running too fast. I’ll have to go and bring some in. Can you hold her on a steady course while I do it?’
Grimly Lisa nodded. She knew without Rorke having to put it into words that the slightest change in wind direction could mean that they might capsize. At the moment they were running before the wind, but if it should veer in the slightest and catch them sideways on, with the amount of sail they were carrying they would capsize immediately.
Her heart in her mouth, she struggled to keep the schooner on course, almost jolted off her feet when the very thing she had dreaded happened, and the wind veered, the shock shuddering through the slender craft with bone-jarring ferocity. Wildly Lisa fought for control of the helm, praying that Rorke would succeed in reefing in some of the sail. In a few split seconds the sky seemed to have turned almost black, the boat wallowing and plunging in the heavy seas.
Rorke must come back soon! Lisa felt another deep shudder tear at the schooner followed by an ominous crack as the wind took advantage of the boat’s vulnerability to tear at the sails. She had to go out and see what was delaying Rorke!
Setting the schooner on automatic pilot and praying that it would hold for the length of time she needed to go outside and check on Rorke, Lisa opened the door, bracing herself against the blast of the wind, feeling her way aft.
One of the sails flapped loosely, suddenly ripping free and disappearing into the darkness as she approached, and she stumbled over an obstruction on the deck. It was only as she reached out to save herself that Lisa realised the obstruction was Rorke, and that he was unconscious. Instantly she realised what had happened. The jib had obviously worked free, and when Rorke went to secure it, the wind had whipped it backwards, hitting him before he could get out of the way.
He groaned and started to struggle to his feet as Lisa reached for him, relief flooding over her as he regained consciousness.
‘My God, what happened?’ he muttered, getting up. ‘I feel as though I’ve been hit by a ten-ton lorry!’