A Dangerous Taste Of Passion

CHAPTER THREE

LILY WAS TEMPTED to go for a swim that evening.

The prospect of feeling the soft water cooling her overheated body was so appealing after more than a week of avoiding the beach that she couldn’t resist.

Ironically, Dee-Dee had also mentioned Laura Mathews as soon as Lily got home from work that afternoon. Little gossip escaped her notice and anything to do with the Mathews family was worthy of a mention.

The West Indian housekeeper usually stayed to provide the Reverend’s lunch and prepare the evening meal for both of them. Most afternoons she was still there when Lily got home.

The news about the Mathewses warranted a longer discussion however. Apparently, the gossip was that Laura had been keeping her arrival under wraps. For some reason, no one had previously had an inkling that she was staying at the plantation.

But the news was out now. And, according to Dee-Dee, it was believed that Laura had lost her job in New York. Which might account for the low profile she’d been keeping since she got back. As far as Lily was concerned, she was sorry if things were not going well for the girl. Okay, Laura hadn’t had much time for Lily in recent years, but that didn’t mean she wished her ill.

Whatever, Lily put these thoughts aside as she dropped her clothes and towel on the sand and splashed into the ocean. It was almost completely dark and there was little chance of her being observed.

Not that there’d been any sign of anyone on the cliffs recently. If there had been, she’d have abandoned her plans.

She could hear the sound of drums in the distance and, knowing what it meant, a shiver ran down her spine. Her father wouldn’t be pleased if he learned that his daughter was swimming after dark just yards from the old slave cabins. He didn’t even approve of her swimming alone in daylight, and in all honesty Lily usually did what he said.

They’d lived together too long, she thought. Since her mother died when she was in her teens, William Fielding had become infinitely narrower in his outlook. He spent his time writing long boring sermons for his small congregation, and threatening Lily with all manner of retribution if she ignored his words.

Lily had put on a blouse and skirt for supper. Underneath, she’d put on her bikini briefs instead of panties. If her father had asked if she was going out, she wouldn’t have lied to him. Perhaps she’d have said she was going for a walk, which was only stretching the truth a little.

And she was twenty-four, after all.

The water felt cool at this time of the evening. It was because the sun had set and there was no heat in the moon’s pale light. Yet, glinting on the water, it had its own beauty, a mystical appeal that evoked romantic images of a man and woman making love.

Not that she’d had a lot of experience in that area. A couple of clumsy couplings while she was at university, and a brief affair with her father’s curate, had pretty well cured her of casual sex.

Dee-Dee had assured her that with the right partner it could be wonderful. But then, Dee-Dee wanted her to attend one of the ceremonies that sometimes took place and see what she was missing for herself.

So far Lily had resisted her efforts. Not that she wasn’t curious, because she was. She wondered if Rafe Oliveira had had any experience of black magic. Though why she should associate those thoughts with him after only one encounter was rather more disturbing.

Turning onto her back, she gazed up at the arc of stars above her head and let his dark face fill her vision. It wasn’t difficult. She’d been thinking about him off and on for days.

But the sudden quiver in her belly, the sensation of liquidity between her legs was different. So different that she found herself suddenly short of breath.

What was happening to her? With a tentative hand, she explored the source of her feelings, shivering with an ache that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She felt weak, trembly, totally unlike her normal self.

Dear God, was this what Dee-Dee had been talking about? Would sex with a man like Oliveira be everything the old woman had said and more?

She tried to relax. She didn’t have that much longer before her father would start wondering where she was. And it was such a beautiful evening. A night for lovers, she thought, allowing her hand to stray over her stomach to the tight buds of her nipples.

And then she caught her breath in alarm. Someone was there, standing in the shadow of a clump of palm trees that grew at the edge of the dunes. It was a man; she was sure of it. And another image of Rafe Oliveira flashed before her eyes. Immediately, she turned onto her stomach and gazed fiercely into the darkness. But, although she stared until her eyes ached with the effort, the shadows, when they eventually shifted, revealed nothing but the trees.

She frowned. Could she have imagined it? She was tired, and in the darkness it was easy to create shapes in the gloom. But the warnings she’d been given came back to haunt her and she swam quickly back to the shore.

The idea that what she might have seen had been less substantial than a human being didn’t reassure her. Dee-Dee’s talk of black magic, the distant sound of the drums, were too real to be ignored. As for the souls of the walking dead... Lily shivered again. It was all too easy to be spooked by such tales.

Deciding she’d spent too long in the water, Lily walked bravely up onto the beach. She towelled herself dry more urgently than usual and then quickly dressed in the skimpy cap-sleeved blouse and pleated skirt.

The blouse was made of amber lace, and clung to her still-damp breasts and shoulders. But although her skirt was shorter than normal and provocatively flared, it was less revealing. She hesitated before peeling off the bikini briefs. But who was going to see her now? There was no dark figure on the cliffs to watch her and, with a slightly jerky movement, she stripped them off.

She didn’t like to think what her father would say if he could see her. Yet what had she done, after all? Swum after dark—albeit topless—without his permission? Taken off her wet briefs so her legs would dry.

It wasn’t anything any other girl her age might have done, she assured herself. However strictly he treated her, she needed some freedom. And he needed to remember she wasn’t a child.

Lily had reached the modest rectory before she saw the vehicle parked to one side of the building. It was a large four-by-four, and it was unfamiliar to her.

Which made her apprehensive. She’d have thought she’d recognise any automobile that might turn up at her father’s door. After the feelings she’d had while she was taking her swim, it was worrying. If they had visitors, then Reverend Fielding was unlikely to be holed up in his study as she’d anticipated.

Before she could formulate any plan as to how she was going to get into the house without being seen, a man stepped out of the shadows to confront her.

‘Buenas noches, Ms Fielding,’ he said with suave politeness. ‘Are you well?’

Rafe Oliveira!

Lily was instantly conscious of the amber lace clinging to her breasts like a second skin and the embarrassing knowledge that, whether he knew it or not, she was naked under her skirt. The pleasant draught of cool air that had fanned her thighs as she walked up the beach was now banished by the rush of heat that spread down from her stomach. And an insistent pulse made itself felt between her legs.

Because of this, because she felt so damnably vulnerable, her response was uncharacteristically sharp.

‘Have you been spying on me again, Señor Oliveira?’ she demanded, not caring right then whether the accusation was justified or not.

The veranda behind them was lit by hanging lanterns and in their muted light she saw the way his eyebrows rose. His dark eyes registered first surprise, then amusement.

‘I have not been spying on you, Ms Fielding,’ he said mildly. ‘Though I have to admit I think it is most unwise to swim alone at this time of the evening.’

‘So you were watching me!’

‘No! Por el amor de Dios.’ He was impatient. ‘Your father was worried about you. He said you’d gone for a walk. As he was worried, I offered to look for you. I have just stepped out of the house. And here you are.’

Lily chewed on her lower lip. ‘I suppose you guessed I hadn’t gone for a walk?’

‘I did not give it a great deal of thought,’ retorted Rafe not altogether truthfully. But he knew exactly what she meant.

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Lily didn’t know whether to believe him or not. He was wearing black this evening, or some dark colour anyway. It accentuated his disturbing appeal and, despite her irritation, Lily was not immune to it.

‘Are you going to tell my father I was lying to him?’ she persisted, and Rafe made a careless gesture with his hands.

‘Why should I?’ he asked indifferently. ‘You are not a child, Ms Fielding. If you choose to behave recklessly, that is your...um...funeral, no?’

Lily’s expression was mutinous. ‘So why did you offer to look for me?’

Rafe shook his head. ‘I could say I was concerned about you, but in all honesty I was more concerned about the poor bastardo who might be arrested as a—what do you say?—a Peeping Tom, no?’

Lily held up her head. ‘There was no one else around,’ she insisted.

‘You are sure?’

She wasn’t. Remembering her nerves when she’d heard the drums earlier, and her belief that there had been someone hiding in the trees, Lily had no answer to that.

‘Well, as you can see, I am safely home,’ she said stiffly. ‘Don’t let us keep you.’

Rafe’s teeth ground together in frustration. ‘Do you think it is wise to alert your father to your return until you have had time to change?’

‘I’m sure Daddy is working in his study. He’s probably forgotten all about my absence by now.’

‘You think?’ Rafe’s dark eyes swept down her body. ‘Having met Father Fielding—’

‘It’s the Reverend Fielding, actually.’

‘Bien.’ Rafe allowed himself to be corrected. ‘No obstante, having met Reverend Fielding, I would not put my faith in that belief.’ He gestured to the house behind him. ‘I am of the opinion that he is waiting for us both to return.’

Lily’s face flamed. ‘Well, so what? He’s unlikely to ask what I’ve been doing while you’re here.’

‘Possibly not.’ Rafe thought he was being extremely patient in the circumstances. ‘But, perdón, is that not part of your bikini dangling from your fingers? It is, as they say, a dead giveaway, no?’

Lily caught her breath. She’d forgotten she was carrying the briefs. And how revealing was that?

Rafe sucked in a breath. ‘I assume you are aware there are certain—illegal—activities taking place at this moment in the old slave cabins at the end of the beach.’

Lily suppressed the urge to cross her legs. How did he know what was going on in the old cabins? It increased the possibility that someone else might have been watching her? she thought uneasily.

She shivered. There was something disturbingly intimate about this conversation.

‘I... I’d better go and change, señor,’ she said, deciding she might have misjudged him. But when she attempted to go past him, Rafe stepped into her path.

‘You should not take your safety for granted, you know,’ he said softly, and Lily suddenly found it difficult to take a breath. He put out his hand and lifted a strand of her wet hair, rubbing its silky texture between his thumb and forefinger. ‘It would be very easy for...someone...to take advantage of you.’

Lily swallowed a little convulsively and Rafe’s hand fell to his side. Whatever vibes she’d been giving off, he’d evidently thought better of the impulse to touch her.

Which was a shame because, for a heart-stopping moment, she’d wanted him to pull her into his arms.

And how crazy was that?

He stepped back, spreading his hands again in a gesture of acceptance. But when Lily moved to leave, he said softly, ‘Please, when next we meet do not address me as señor. My name is Rafe.’ His lips twisted. ‘I wish you would use it.’

The air left Lily’s lungs on an uneven breath. Had he sensed what she’d been thinking? It was difficult to know. But one thing was certain—on an island as small as Orchid Cay, the chances of them meeting again were almost unavoidable. And she should remember that.

‘I must go,’ she said and hurried past him, her flesh tingling uncontrollably at the brush of his taut muscular frame against hers.

He followed her inside, intercepting her father, enabling her to make her escape upstairs. And for that she was grateful. But if he hadn’t turned up as he had, her father would probably have been none the wiser.

He was gone by the time she came downstairs again. She’d taken a quick shower and changed into clean shorts and a tee shirt. But her father was standing in the doorway to his study, and one look at his face as he bid her to join him warned her that he expected an explanation.

‘Where have you been?’ he demanded at once and, although Lily knew he must have been worried about her, she resented his domineering tone. ‘You didn’t say you were going for a walk on the beach. You’ve been gone more than an hour!’

Lily pressed her lips together, silencing her indignation. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s not good enough, Lilian.’ William Fielding frowned. ‘You know how I worry about you.’

‘I am sorry.’

Lily didn’t know what else to say, but fortunately William Fielding had other things on his mind.

‘We’ve had a visitor,’ he said abruptly. ‘A Señor Oliveira. From Orchid Point. I would have liked you to meet him.’

‘I did meet him,’ began Lily, not knowing what Oliveira might have said and determined not to prove herself any more of a liar than she felt already.

But her father wouldn’t let her finish. ‘I know that,’ he interrupted her shortly. ‘He offered to go and find you. I don’t know what you were thinking, Lily. You must know what goes on at the other end of the beach after dark.’

She was contemplating her response when her father spoke again. ‘You’ve changed your clothes,’ he said, having just noticed her damp hair. ‘Wasn’t it a little late to have a shower?’

‘I was hot,’ declared Lily, refusing to be provoked. She paused. ‘What did Señor Oliveira want? I didn’t know you knew him.’

‘I didn’t until this evening.’ William Fielding’s brows remained creased. ‘I assume he introduced himself to you when he found you.’

Lily sighed. ‘Actually, I’d already met him. He came into the agency a few days ago looking for Ray.’

Reverend Fielding frowned. ‘I wonder what he wanted with Myers.’

Lily shrugged. ‘To hire a boat, maybe.’

‘Oh, I think not.’ Her father shook his head. ‘I’m sure a man like him will have his own yacht.’

Now it was Lily’s turn to frown. ‘A man like him?’ She echoed his words. ‘Who is he? What do you know about him?’

‘Only what I’ve read in the newspapers,’ replied her father defensively, retiring behind his desk. ‘You must have heard he used to run a successful group of companies in New York.’ He stared at her, his eyes intent suddenly. ‘I can’t believe that piece of gossip slipped either yours or Dee-Dee’s notice.’

Lily tried to control the warmth that flooded into her throat as he spoke.

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But that doesn’t explain what he was doing here.’

Her father sank into his leather recliner now, lifting his shoulders dismissively. ‘I imagine he wanted to meet me.’

‘But why?’

‘Does there have to be a reason?’ Reverend Fielding looked impatient. ‘The man’s living on the island, Lily. Perhaps he felt in need of spiritual guidance.’

‘And did you give him spiritual guidance?’ Lily couldn’t hide her scepticism.

‘As most of my energies were taken up with finding you, then no, our conversation was correspondingly brief.’

And, as if reminded of her transgressions, her father’s scowl deepened. ‘But I will not be made to feel guilty when we both know you were in the wrong.’

Lily caught her breath. ‘I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Dad.’

‘It sounds like it to me. Trying to shift the blame, at the very least.’

Lily shook her head. ‘I just don’t understand why that man would come to see you. You’re an Anglican minister. He’s Spanish. He must be a Catholic.’

‘Dee-Dee supports another religion entirely, but she comes to my church on Sundays,’ declared her father, showing he wasn’t half as ignorant of what was going on as she’d imagined. ‘Has it occurred to you that his own church may have let him down?’

Lily blinked. ‘Let him down, how?’

‘Well...’ Her father looked a little reluctant to continue. ‘We don’t know how it happened, do we?’

‘How what happened?’ Lily was impatient. ‘There is something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’

‘Only that we shouldn’t judge anyone lest we ourselves be judged in return,’ replied her father pedantically, resorting to one of his texts instead of giving her a straight answer.

He shuffled the papers on his desk and gave her a nod of approval. ‘At least you’re home safely, my dear.’ He rescued his prayer book from beneath the pile of notes. ‘Shall we offer a little prayer of thanks?’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘THAT FEMALE IS here again,’ said Steve Bellamy, putting his head round the door of Rafe’s study after the most perfunctory of knocks. ‘Do you want me to deal with her?’

Rafe, who had been examining a nautical map showing all the shoals and reefs present in the waters surrounding the island, looked up with a blank expression. ‘Qué?’