Read the book: «A Second Chance For The Millionaire: Rescued by the Brooding Tycoon / Who Wants To Marry a Millionaire? / The Billionaire's Fair Lady»

I should like to dedicate this book to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, without whose help my heroine could never have been as spunky as she is.

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS the burst of beauty that caught Darius unaware. He didn’t regard himself as a man vulnerable to beauty. Efficiency, ruthlessness, financial acumen, these things could be counted on.

He’d been driven to hire a helicopter on the English mainland and fly five miles across the sea to the little island of Herringdean. Since it was now his property, it made good sense to inspect it briefly on his way to an even more important meeting.

Good sense. Cling to that, since everything else had failed him.

But the sudden vision of sunlit sea, the waves glittering as they broke against the sand, stunned him and made him press closer to the window.

‘Go lower,’ he commanded, and watched as the helicopter descended, sweeping along the coast of Herringdean Island. From here he could study the place with a critical eye.

Or so he believed. But there was no criticism in the glance he turned on the lush green cliffs, the golden beaches; only astonished pleasure.

The cliffs were sinking until they were only a few feet higher than the beach. He could see a large house that must once have been elegant, but was now fast falling into disrepair. In front of it stretched a garden leading to a plain lawn, close to the sand.

In the far distance were buildings that must be Ellarick, the largest town on the island: population twenty thousand.

‘Land here,’ he said, ‘on that lawn.’

‘I thought you wanted to fly over the town,’ the pilot protested.

But suddenly he yearned to avoid towns, cars, crowds. The beach seemed to call to him. It was an unfamiliar sensation for a man who wasn’t normally impulsive. In the financial world impulsiveness could be dangerous, yet now he yielded with pleasure to the need to explore below.

‘Go lower,’ he repeated urgently.

Slowly the machine sank onto the lawn. Darius leapt out, a lithe figure whose fitness and agility belied the desk-bound businessman he usually was, and hurried down to the beach. The sand was slightly damp, but smooth and hard, presenting little threat to his expensive appearance.

That appearance had been carefully calculated to inform the world that here was a successful man who could afford to pay top prices for his clothes. A few grains of sand might linger on his handmade shoes but they could be easily brushed off, and it was a small price to pay for what the beach offered him.

Peace.

After the devastating events that had buffeted him recently there was nothing more blessed than to stand here in the sunlight, throw his head back, close his eyes, feel the soft breeze on his face, and relish the silence.

So many years spent fighting, conspiring, manoeuvring, while all the time this simple perfection had been waiting, and he hadn’t realised.

Outwardly, Darius seemed too young for such thoughts; in his mid-thirties, tall, strong, attractive, ready to take on the world. Inwardly, he knew otherwise. He had already taken on the world, won some battles, lost others, and was weary to his depths.

But here there could be a chance to regain strength for the struggles that lay ahead. He breathed in slowly, yielding himself to the quiet, longing for it to last.

Then it ended.

A shriek of laughter tore the silence, destroying the peace. With a groan he opened his eyes and saw two figures in the sea, heading for the shore. As they emerged from the water he realised that one of them was a large dog. The other was a young woman in her late twenties with a lean, athletic build, not voluptuous but dashingly slender, with long elegant legs. Her costume was a modest black one-piece, functional rather than enticing, and her brown hair was pinned severely back out of the way.

As a man much pursued by women, Darius knew they commonly used swimming as a chance to parade their beauty. But if this girl was sending out any message to men it was, I wear what’s useful, so don’t kid yourself that I’m flaunting my body to attract you.

‘Can I help you?’ she cried merrily as she bounced up the beach.

‘I’m just looking round, getting the feel of the place.’

‘Yes, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? Sometimes I think if I ever get to heaven it’ll be just like this. Not that I expect to go to heaven. They slam the gates on characters like me.’

Although he would have died before admitting it, the reference to heaven so exactly echoed his own thoughts that now he found he could forgive her for interrupting him.

‘Characters like what?’ he asked.

‘Awkward,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Lots of other things too, but chiefly awkward. That’s what my friends say.’

‘Those friends who haven’t been driven away by your awkwardness?’

‘Right.’

He indicated the house behind him. ‘I believe that belongs to Morgan Rancing.’

‘Yes, but if you’ve come to see him you’ve had a wasted journey. Nobody knows where he is.’

Rancing was on the far side of the world, hiding from his creditors, including himself, but Darius saw no need to mention that.

She stepped back to survey him, a curious look in her eyes. Then it vanished as though an idea had occurred to her, only to be dismissed as impossible.

‘You’re lucky Rancing isn’t here,’ she observed. ‘He’d hit the roof at you bringing down your machine on his land. Nobody’s allowed on his property.’

‘Does that include this beach?’ he asked, regarding the fences that enclosed the stretch of sand.

‘It certainly does.’ She gave a chuckle. ‘Be a sport. If you see him, don’t say you caught me on his private beach. He disapproves of my swimming here.’

‘But you do it anyway,’ he observed wryly.

‘It’s so lovely that I can’t resist. The other beaches are full of holidaymakers but here you can have it all to yourself; just you and the sun and the sky.’ She flung out her arms in a dramatic gesture, smiling up at him. ‘The world is yours.’

Darius nodded, feeling a curious sense of ease at the way her thoughts chimed with his own, and looked at her with renewed interest. Despite her boyish air, she wasn’t lacking in feminine charm. There was real beauty in her eyes, that were large and deep blue, full of life, seeming to invite him into a teasing conspiracy.

‘That’s very true,’ he said.

‘So you won’t tell him that you saw me on his private beach?’

‘Actually, it’s my private beach.’

Her smile vanished. ‘What do you mean?’

‘This island is mine now.’

‘Rancing sold it to you?’ she gasped.

Without knowing it, she’d said the fatal word. Rancing hadn’t sold him the island, he’d tricked him into it. In a flash, his goodwill towards her vanished, and a stubborn expression overtook his face. ‘I told you it’s mine,’ he said harshly. ‘That’s all that matters. My name is Darius Falcon.’

She drew a quick breath. ‘I thought I’d seen your face before, in the newspaper. Weren’t you the guy who—?’

‘Never mind that,’ he interrupted curtly. He knew his life, both private and business, had been all over the papers, and he didn’t like being reminded of it. ‘Perhaps now you’ll tell me who you are.’

‘Harriet Connor,’ she said. ‘I have an antique shop in Ellarick.’

‘I shouldn’t think you get much trade in this place,’ he said, looking around at the isolation.

‘On the contrary, Herringdean attracts a lot of tourists. Surely you knew that?’

The question, How could you buy it without knowing about it? hung in the air. Since he wasn’t prepared to discuss the ignominious way he’d been fooled, he merely shrugged.

From behind Harriet came a loud yelp. The dog was charging up the beach, spraying water everywhere, heading straight for Darius.

‘Steady, Phantom,’ she called, trying to block his way.

‘Keep him off me,’ Darius snapped.

But it was too late. Gleeful at the sight of a stranger to investigate, the dog hurled himself the last few feet, reared up on his hind legs and slammed his wet, sandy paws down on Darius’s shoulders. He was a mighty beast, able to meet a tall man face to face, and lick him enthusiastically.

‘Get him off me. He’s soaking.’

‘Phantom, get down!’ Harriet cried.

He did so but only briefly, hurling himself at Darius again, this time with a force that took them both down to the ground. As he lay helplessly on the sand, Phantom loomed over him, licking his face and generally trying to show friendliness. He looked aggrieved as his mistress hauled him off.

‘Bad dog! I’m very cross with you.’

Darius got to his feet, cursing at the wreck of his suit.

‘He wasn’t attacking you,’ Harriet said in a pleading voice. ‘He just likes people.’

‘Whatever his intentions, he’s made a mess,’ Darius said in an icy voice.

‘I’ll pay to have your suit cleaned.’

‘Cleaned?’ he snapped. ‘I’ll send you a bill for a new one. Keep away from me, you crazy animal.’

He put up his arm to ward off another encounter, but Harriet threw her arms protectively around the dog.

‘You’d better go,’ she said in a voice that was now as icy as his own. ‘I can’t hold him for ever.’

‘You should know better than to let a creature that size run free.’

‘And you should know better than to wear a suit like that on the beach,’ she cried.

The undeniable truth of this soured his temper further, leaving him no choice but to storm off in the direction of the helicopter. He guessed his pilot had seen everything, but the man was too wise to comment.

As they lifted off, Darius looked down and saw Harriet gazing at the machine, one hand shielding her eyes. Then Phantom reared up again, enclosing her in his great paws, and at once she forgot the helicopter to cuddle the dog, while he licked her face. So much for being cross with that stupid mutt, Darius thought furiously. Clearly, he was all she cared about.

He thought of how he’d stood on the beach, alone, peaceful for the first time in months, and how clumsily she had destroyed that moment. He wouldn’t forgive her for that.

From this high point on the hill overlooking Monte Carlo, Amos Falcon could see the bay but, unlike his son, he failed to notice the beauty of the sea. His attention was all for the buildings on the slope, tall, magnificent, speaking of money, though none spoke so loudly as his own house, a sprawling, three-storey edifice, bought because it dominated its surroundings.

It was money and the need to protect it that had first brought him to this tax haven years ago. He’d started life poor in a rundown mining town in the north of England, and got out fast. Working night and day, he’d built up a fortune of his own, helped by marrying a woman with wealth, and he’d left England for a more friendly tax regimen as soon as he could, determined that no government would be allowed to rob him of his gains.

‘Where the devil is he?’ he muttered crossly. ‘It’s not like Darius to be late. He knows I want him here before the others.’

Janine, his third wife, a well-preserved woman in her fifties with a kind face and a gentle manner, laid a hand on his arm.

‘He’s a busy man,’ she said. ‘His company is in trouble—’

‘Everyone’s company is in trouble,’ Amos growled. ‘He should be able to deal with it. I’ve taught him well.’

‘Perhaps you spent too much time teaching him,’ she suggested. ‘He’s your son, not just a business associate to be instructed.’

‘He’s no business associate of mine,’ Amos said. ‘I said I’d taught him well, but he never quite learned how to take the final, necessary step.’

‘Because he has a conscience,’ she suggested. ‘He can be ruthless, but only up to a point.’

‘Exactly. I could never quite make him see… Ah, well, maybe his recent troubles will have taught him a lesson.’

‘You mean his wife leaving him?’

‘I mean that damn fool divorce settlement he gave her. Much too generous. He just let her have whatever she demanded.’

Janine sighed. She’d heard him ranting on this subject so often, and there was no end to it.

‘He did it for the children’s sake,’ she pointed out.

‘He could have got his children back if he’d played hard, but he wouldn’t do it.’

‘Good for him,’ Janine murmured.

Amos scowled. He could forgive her sentimental view of life. After all, she was a woman. But sometimes it exasperated him.

‘That’s all very well,’ he growled, ‘but then the world imploded.’

‘Only the financial world,’ she ventured.

His caustic look questioned whether there was any other kind, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

‘And suddenly he had a pittance compared to what he’d had before,’ he continued. ‘So he had to go back to that woman and try to persuade her to accept less. Naturally, she refused, and since the money had already been transferred to her he couldn’t touch it.’

‘You’d never have made that mistake,’ Janine observed wryly, perhaps thinking of the pre-nuptial agreement she’d had to sign before their wedding five years earlier. ‘Never give anything you can’t take back, that’s your motto.’

‘I never said that.’

‘No, you’ve never actually said it,’ she agreed quietly.

‘Where the devil is he?’

‘Don’t upset yourself,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s bad for you to get agitated after your heart attack.’

‘I’m over that,’ he growled.

‘Until the next time. And don’t say there won’t be a next time because the doctor said a massive attack like that is always a warning.’

‘I’m not an invalid,’ he said firmly. ‘Look at me. Do I look frail?’

He rose and stood against the backdrop of the sky, challenging her with his pose and his expression, and she had to concede the point. Amos was a big man, over six foot, broad-shouldered and heavy. All his life he’d been fiercely attractive, luring any woman he wanted, moving from marriage to affairs and on to marriage as the mood took him. Along the way, he’d fathered five sons by four mothers in different countries, thus spreading his tentacles across the world.

Recently, there had been an unexpected family reunion. Struck down by a heart attack, he’d lain close to death while his sons gathered at his bedside. But, against all the odds, he’d survived, and at last they had returned to their different countries.

Now he had summoned them back for a reason. Amos was making plans for the future. He’d regained much of his strength, although less than he claimed.

To the casual eye, he was a fine, healthy specimen, still handsome beneath a head of thick white hair. Only two people knew of the breathless attacks that followed exertion. One of them was Janine, his wife, who regarded him with a mixture of love and exasperation.

The other was Freya, Janine’s daughter by an earlier marriage. A trained nurse, she’d recently come to stay at her mother’s request.

‘He doesn’t want a nurse there in case it makes him look weak,’ Janine pleaded, ‘but if I invite my daughter he can’t refuse.’

‘But he knows I’m a nurse,’ Freya had pointed out.

‘Yes, but we don’t have to talk about it, and you can keep an eye on him discreetly. It helps that you don’t look like a nurse.’

This was an understatement. Freya was delicately built with elegant movements, a pretty face and a cheeky demeanour. She might have been a dancer, a nightclub hostess, or anything except a medical expert with an impressive list of letters after her name.

An adventurous spirit had made her leave her last job in response to her mother’s request.

‘I was getting bored,’ she said. ‘Same thing day after day.’

‘You certainly won’t get that with Amos,’ Janine had remarked.

She was right. After only a few days Freya remarked, ‘It’s like dealing with a spoilt child. Don’t worry. I can do what’s necessary.’

Luckily, Amos liked his stepdaughter and under her care his health improved. It was she who now came bouncing out onto the balcony and said, ‘Time for your nap.’

‘Not for another ten minutes,’ he growled.

She smiled. ‘No, it’s now. No argument.’

He grinned. ‘You’re a bully, you know that?’

‘Of course I know that. I work at it. Get going.’

He shrugged, resigned and good-natured, and let her escort him as far as his bedroom door. Janine would have gone in with him, but he waved her away.

‘I can manage without supervision. Just keep your eyes open for Darius. I can’t think what’s keeping him.’ He closed the door.

‘What’s going on?’ Freya asked as the two women walked away.

‘Goodness knows. He was supposed to arrive this morning but he called to say there’d been an unexpected delay.’

‘And then all the other sons, Leonid, Marcel, Travis, Jackson, just a few days apart. Why is Amos suddenly doing this?’

‘I can only guess,’ Janine said sadly. ‘He puts on this big act of being fully recovered, but he had a scare. He’s seen that his life could end at any time, and he’s…getting things sorted out, is how he puts it, starting with changes to his will.’

‘Funny, he’s so organised that you’d think he’d have fixed that ages ago.’

‘He did, but I believe he’s taking another look at all of his lads and deciding—I don’t know—which one will manage best—’

‘Which one is most like him,’ Freya said shrewdly.

‘You’re very hard on him,’ Janine protested.

‘No more than he deserves. Of all the arrogant—’

‘But he’s very fond of you. You’re the daughter he never had and he’d love you to be really part of the family.’ She paused delicately.

‘You mean he wants me to be his daughter-in-law?’ Freya demanded, aghast. ‘The cheeky crook.’

‘Don’t call him a crook,’ Janine protested.

‘Why not? No man builds up the kind of fortune he did by honest means. And he’s taught his sons to be the same. Anything for money, that’s how they all think. So if one of them can talk me into marriage he’ll cop the lot. Was Amos mad when he thought of that? Nothing on this earth would persuade me—there isn’t one of them I’d ever dream of—ye gods and little fishes!’

‘Don’t tell him I told you,’ Janine begged.

‘Don’t worry. Not a word.’ Suddenly her temper faded, replaced by wicked mischief. ‘But I might enjoy a good laugh. Yes, I think it deserves that.’

As she hurried away her mother heard the laughter echoing back, and sighed. She couldn’t blame Freya one bit. She, of all people, knew what madness it was to marry into this family.

Darius arrived the next day, apologising with a fictional tale of business dealings. Not for the world would he have admitted that he’d been forced to leave Herringdean, return to the mainland and check into a hotel to put on a fresh suit. Normally, no power on earth could force him to change his plans and he resented it. Another thing for which Harriet Connor was to blame.

He found her mysteriously disturbing because she seemed to haunt him as two people. There was the girl who’d briefly charmed him with her instinctive empathy for his feelings about the isolated place. And there was the other one who’d interfered with his plans, destroyed his dignity with her stupid hound, and committed the unforgivable crime of seeing him at a disadvantage. He had dismissed her from his mind but she seemed unaware of that fact and popped up repeatedly in one guise or another.

A fanciful man might have defined her two aspects as the Good Fairy and the Bad Fairy. Darius, who wasn’t fanciful, simply called her ‘that wretched female’.

His father greeted him in typical fashion. ‘So there you are at last. About time too.’

‘An unexpected matter that required my attention.’

Amos grunted. ‘As long as you sorted it out to your advantage.’

‘Naturally,’ Darius said, brushing aside the memory of lying on the sand. ‘Then I got here as soon as I could. I’m glad to see you looking better, Father.’

‘I am better. I keep saying so but my womenfolk won’t believe me. I suppose Freya talked a lot when she collected you from the airport.’

‘I asked her questions and, like a good nurse, she answered them.’

‘Nurse be damned. She’s here as my stepdaughter.’

‘If you say so.’

‘What do you think of her?’

‘She seems a nice girl, what little I’ve seen of her.’

‘She cheers the place up. And she’s a good cook. Better than that so-called professional I employ. She’s doing supper for us tonight. You’ll enjoy it.’

He did enjoy it. Freya produced excellent food, and could crack jokes that lightened the atmosphere. She was pleasant to have around, and Darius found himself wondering why more women couldn’t be like her instead of invading other people’s private property with their sharp remarks and their dangerous dogs.

Awkward. She’d said it herself, and that was exactly right.

After supper, in his father’s study, the two men confronted each other.

‘I gather things aren’t too good?’ Amos grunted.

‘Not for me or anyone else,’ Darius retorted. ‘There’s a global crisis, hadn’t you heard?’

‘Yes, and some are weathering it better than others. That contract you had the big fight over, I warned you how to word the get-out clause, and if you’d listened to me you could have told them where to stuff their legal action.’

‘But they’re decent people,’ Darius protested. ‘They knew very little about business—’

‘All the better. You could have done as you liked and they wouldn’t have found out until too late. You’re soft, that’s your trouble.’

Darius grimaced. In the financial world, his reputation was far from soft. Cold, unyielding, power-hungry, that was what people said of him. But he drew the line at taking advantage of helpless innocence, and he’d paid the price for it; a price his father would never have paid.

‘But it’s not too late,’ Amos conceded in a milder tone. ‘Now you’re here there are ways I can help.’

‘That’s what I hoped,’ Darius said quietly.

‘You haven’t always taken my advice, but perhaps you’ve got the sense to take it now. And the first problem is how you’re going to deal with Morgan Rancing.’

‘I must tell you—’

‘I’ve heard disturbing rumours about some island he owns off the south coast of England. They say he’ll try to use it to cover his debts, and I’m warning you to have no truck with that. Don’t give it a thought. What you must do—’

‘It’s too late,’ Darius growled. ‘Herringdean is already mine.’

‘What? You agreed to take it?’

‘No, I wasn’t given the chance,’ Darius snapped. ‘Rancing has vanished. Next thing, I received papers that transferred ownership of Herringdean to me. His cellphone is dead, his house is empty. Nobody knows where he is, or if they do they’re not talking. I can either accept the island or go without anything.’

‘But it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth,’ Amos spluttered.

‘I’m inclined to agree with you,’ Darius murmured.

‘So you know something about it?’

‘A little. I need to go back and inspect it further.’

‘And you’re counting on it to pay your debts?’

‘I don’t know. But in the meantime I could do with an investor to make a one-time injection of cash and help me out.’

‘Meaning me?’

‘Well, as you’re always telling me, you’ve survived the credit crunch better than anyone.’

‘Yes, because I knew how to treat money.’

‘Like a prisoner who’s always trying to escape,’ Darius recalled.

‘Exactly. That’s why I came to live here.’

He pushed open the door that led out onto the balcony overlooking the view over the bay that now glittered with lights against the darkness.

‘I talked to a journalist once,’ Amos recalled. ‘She asked me all sorts of tom-fool questions. Why had I chosen to live in Monte Carlo? Was it just the tax relief or was there something else? I brought her out here and became lyrical about the view.’

‘That I would have loved to hear,’ Darius said.

Amos grinned. ‘Yeah, you’d have been proud of me. The silly woman swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Then she wrote some trash about my being a man who appreciated peace and beauty. As though I gave a damn about that stuff.’

‘Some people think it has value,’ Darius murmured.

‘Some people are fools,’ Amos said firmly. ‘I’d be sorry to think you were one of them. You’ve got yourself into a mess and you need me to get you out.’

‘Two firms I did business with went bankrupt, owing me money,’ Darius said grimly. ‘I hardly created the mess myself.’

‘But you made it worse by giving Mary everything she asked for in the divorce settlement.’

‘That was before the crisis. I could afford it then.’

‘But you didn’t leave yourself any room for manoeuvre, no way to claw any of it back. You forgot every lesson I ever taught you. Now you want me to pour good money after bad.’

‘So you won’t help me?’

‘I didn’t say that, but we need to talk further. Not now. Later.’

Darius spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Will my father invest in me, or will he not?’

‘Don’t rush me.’

‘I have to. I need to make my decisions quickly.’

‘All right, here’s a way forward for you to consider. A rich wife, that’s what you need, one who’ll bring you a thumping great dowry.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Freya. She’s already my stepdaughter, and I want her properly in the family as my daughter-in-law.’

Darius stared. His ears were buzzing, and somewhere there was the memory of Freya, on the drive from the airport, saying, ‘Your father’s got some really mad ideas. Someone needs to tell him to forget them.’

She’d refused to elaborate, but now he understood.

‘Why not?’ Amos asked genially. ‘You like the girl, you were laughing together at dinner—’

‘Yes, I like her—far too much to do her such an injury, even if she’d agree, which she wouldn’t, thank goodness. Do you really think you could make me crawl to do your bidding? If I have one thing left it’s my independence, and I won’t part with that.’

‘Then you’ll buy it at a high price. Don’t blame me when you go bankrupt.’

Darius gave a cold smile. ‘I’ll remember.’

He turned and walked away, resisting the temptation to slam the door. Within an hour he’d left the house.

CHAPTER TWO

THE storm that swept over Herringdean had been violent, and nobody was surprised when the lifeboat was called out to an emergency. A small crowd had watched the boat plunge down the slipway into the sea, and a larger one gathered to see it return later that night.

Soon the rescued victims had been taken ashore into the waiting ambulance and the crew were free to exhale with relief and remove their life jackets.

Harriet took out her cellphone, dialled and spoke quickly. ‘Is he all right? Good. I’ll be home soon.’

When they had all finished making their report she slipped away and was followed by Walter and Simon, fellow crew members and friends.

‘Hey, Harry,’ Walter called. ‘You sounded worried on the phone. Is someone ill?’

‘No, I was just checking on Phantom. I left my neighbour looking after him. She promised to keep him safe.’

‘Safe? Why suddenly? You never worried before.’

‘I never had cause before. But now I worry. He’s a very powerful man.’

‘Who?’

From her pocket she took a newspaper cutting with a photograph and passed it to Walter.

‘“Darius Falcon,”’ he read. ‘“Giant of commerce, skilled manipulator, the financial world is agog to know if he will avert disaster—”’ He lowered the paper. ‘How does a big shot come to know Phantom?’

‘Because he’s bought the island,’ she said. ‘Rancing had money troubles and he solved them by selling this place.’

Simon swore. ‘And not a word to the people who live here, of course.’

‘Of course. What do we matter to men like that, up there on their lofty perch? If you could have seen him as I did, arrogant and sure of himself—’

‘You’ve met him?’ Simon demanded.

‘He came here a couple of days ago and I saw him on the beach. Phantom made a mess of his suit and he got mad, said he’d make me pay for a new one, and Phantom shouldn’t be allowed out. So tonight, I asked my neighbour to watch over him while I was away, in case…well, just in case.’

‘Hell!’ Walter said. ‘But is he really as bad as you say? If you two had a dust-up he probably just got a bit peeved—’

‘You didn’t see his face. He was more than a bit peeved. Now, I must get home.’

She hurried away, leaving the two men gazing after her, frowning with concern.

‘Surely she’s overreacting?’ Simon mused. ‘A bodyguard for a dog? A bit melodramatic, surely?’

‘She’s been that way for the last year,’ Walter sighed. ‘Ever since her husband died. Remember how good she and Brad were together? The perfect marriage. Now all she has left is his dog.’

‘Hmm,’ Simon grunted. ‘Personally, I never liked Brad.’

‘You say that because you fancied her rotten.’

‘Sure, me and every other man on the island. Let’s go for a drink.’

Harriet’s car made quick time from the harbour to Ellarick, then to the little shop that she owned, and above which she lived. As she looked up the window opened and Phantom’s head appeared, followed by that of a cheerful middle-aged woman. A moment later she was climbing the stairs to throw her arms about the dog.

‘Mmm,’ she cooed, and he responded with a throaty growl that sounded much the same.

‘No problems?’ she asked Mrs Bates, the neighbour who’d kept watch in her home.

‘No sign of anyone.’

‘Let me make you a cup of tea,’ Harriet offered gratefully.

But Mrs Bates refused and departed. She was a kindly soul and she knew Harriet wanted to be alone with Phantom, although how she could bear the loneliness of the apartment Mrs Bates couldn’t imagine.

But to Harriet it would never be lonely while Phantom was there. She hugged him fiercely before saying, ‘Come on, let’s take a walk. You need space to go mad in.’

They slipped out together into the darkness and walked down through the streets of the town, heading for the shore.

‘But not “the ogre’s” private beach,’ she said. ‘From now on, that’s out of bounds.’

They found a place on the public sands where they could chase each other up and down in the moonlight.

‘That’s enough,’ she gasped at last. ‘Yes, I know you could go on till morning, but I’m out of puff.’

She threw herself down on the sand and stretched out on her back. Phantom immediately put a heavy paw on her chest, looking down into her face while she ruffled his fur.

‘That’s better,’ she sighed. ‘How could he not like you when you were trying so hard to be friendly? Being hurled to the ground by you is a real privilege. You don’t do it for everyone.’ She gave a soft grunt of laughter. ‘Just people with expensive clothes. If he really does send me the bill you’ll be on plain rations for a long time. So will I, come to think of it.’

He woofed.

‘The funny thing is, when I first saw him…he seemed decent, as if he really loved the sun and the fresh air; like someone who’d found himself in heaven. But when I discovered who he was he looked different. And then he was so rotten to you—’

Suddenly she sat up and threw her arms around the dog.

‘You must be careful,’ she said fiercely. ‘You must, you must! If anything happened to you I couldn’t bear it.’

Harriet buried her face against him. Phantom made a gentle sound, but he didn’t try to move. This often happened, and he knew what he must do: keep still, stay warm and gentle, just be there for her. Instinct told him what she needed, and his heart told him how to give it.

‘They think I’m crazy,’ she whispered, ‘getting paranoid over your safety. Well, perhaps I really am crazy, but you’re all I’ve got—without you, there’s no love or happiness in the world…only you…’

She kissed him and gave a shaky laugh.

‘I expect you think I’m crazy too. Poor old boy. Come on, let’s get home and you can have something special to eat.’

They left the beach, climbing the gently sloping road that led to the town. Suddenly she stopped. Far away, she could just make out the house where Rancing had lived before he fled, and where ‘the ogre’ would soon appear. It went by the grandiose name of Giant’s Beacon, which might have been justified in its great days, but seemed rather over-the-top now that it was in a state of disrepair. At this distance it was tiny, but it stood out against the moonlit sky, and she could just make out that lights were coming on.

‘He’s here,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, heavens, let’s get home, fast.’

They ran all the way, and as soon as they were safely inside Harriet locked the door.

Within hours of Darius’s arrival the news had spread throughout the island. Kate, who’d kept house for Rancing, had a ready audience in the pub that evening.

‘You should see the computers he’s brought,’ she said. ‘Dozens of ’em. One for this and one for that, and something he calls “video links” so he can talk to people on the other side of the world, and there they are on the screen, large as life. It’s like magic.’

The others grinned. Kate had never quite come to terms with the dot-com revolution, and most modern communications struck her as magic. She had little idea that behind its sweet, traditional image Herringdean was a more modern place than it looked.

Darius was also making the discovery, and was delighted with it. For a while he would be able to run his main business and his many subsidiary businesses, controlling everything from the centre of the web. It would be enough until he was ready to turn this place to his financial advantage.

Checking through the figures, he discovered that it was larger than he’d thought, about a hundred square miles with a population of a hundred and twenty thousand. Sheep and dairy farming flourished, so did fishing, and there were several industries, notably boat building and brewing. Ellarick was not only a flourishing town, but a port with its own annual regatta.

One source of prosperity was tourism. Now summer was coming, the hotels were filling up as visitors began to flood the island, seeking tranquillity in the country lanes or excitement in the boats.

Ellarick also contained an elderly accountant called James Henly, who had dealt with Rancing’s business. An early visit from him pleased Darius with the news that the rent paid to him by the other inhabitants was considerable, but also displeased him with the discovery that he was the victim of yet another piece of sharp practice.

‘Mr Rancing persuaded several of his larger tenants, like the breweries, to pay him several months’ rent in advance,’ Henly explained in his dry voice. ‘Apparently, he convinced them that there would be tax advantages. I need hardly say that I knew nothing about this. I was away and he took advantage of my absence to act on his own account. When I returned and found out, it was too late. He’d pocketed the money, and within a few days he’d vanished.’

‘Meaning that it will be some time before I can collect rent from these establishments again,’ Darius said in a mild manner that revealed nothing.

‘I’m afraid so. Of course, what he’s done is legally open to question since he made over everything to you, so technically it was your money he took. You could always try to get it back.’

His tone made it clear that he didn’t attach much hope to that idea. Darius, who attached none at all, controlled his temper. It wasn’t his way to display emotion to employees.

‘How much are we talking about?’ he said with a shrug.

He felt less like shrugging when he saw the figures. Rancing had staged a spectacular theft and there was nothing he could do about it. But at all costs Henly mustn’t be allowed to suspect his dismay.

‘No problem,’ Darius said as indifferently as he could manage. ‘The tourism season is just starting. I shan’t let a detail get me down.’

Henly’s eyes widened at the idea of such a financial blow being a mere detail. He began to think the stories of Mr Falcon’s impending ruin were untrue after all.

Darius, who’d intended him to think exactly that, asked casually, ‘Did he leave owing you any money?’

‘I’m afraid he did—’

‘All right, just send me a detailed bill. That’s all for now.’

For several days he remained in the house, rising early to link up with business contacts on one side of the world, eating whatever Kate brought him and barely taking his eyes from the computer screen. As the hours wore on, he turned to the other side of the world where he had business contacts whose day was just beginning. Day and night ceased to exist; all he knew was what he needed to do to survive.

On a whim, he searched the local phone directory until he found Harriet Connor, living in Bayton Street in Ellarick. A map showed him that it was in the centre of the town.

Then he put away the papers quickly. What did he care where she lived?

Thinking back to his work, at last he felt he’d put things on a firmer footing and could dare to hope. Perhaps it was time to venture outside. He’d hired a car but so far not used it. Now he drove into Ellarick, parked in a side street and got out to walk.

No doubt it was pure chance that made him walk down Bayton Street. He reckoned that must have been the reason because he’d forgotten her address. Now he found himself in a place of expensive shops and hotels that looked even more expensive. The tourist trade must be good. No doubt she did well out of the hotels.

There was her shop, on the corner, and through the open door he could just see her with a female customer. There was a child there too, and Harriet was talking to the little boy, giving him all her attention, as though nobody else mattered. He was clutching a large model boat, and Darius saw him turn to the woman and say, ‘Please, Mum. Please.’

He could just make out her reply, ‘No, darling, it’s too expensive.’

For a moment the child looked rebellious, but then he sniffed and handed the boat to Harriet. She took it thoughtfully, then suddenly said, ‘I could always make a discount.’

The mother gasped, and gasped again when she saw the piece of paper on which Harriet had written the price. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Quite sure. It ought to go to someone who’ll really appreciate it.’

Darius moved quickly back into a doorway as the woman paid up and hurried away with the child. The last thing he wanted was for Harriet to realise that he’d witnessed this scene. Instinct told him that she wouldn’t be pleased at knowing he’d seen her kindly side any more than he would be at knowing she’d seen his. Not that he admitted to having a kindly side.

He waited until she put up the shutters before hurrying back to the car.

The following night he was out walking again, much later this time. Darkness had fallen as he headed for the harbour. At last he came to a public house and went inside, only to find the place too crowded for his mood.

‘It’s nice outside,’ the barman suggested. ‘Plenty of space there.’

He led Darius to the garden, where a few tables were laid out. From one of them came laughter.

‘We’re near the lifeboat station,’ the barman explained, ‘so the crew members tend to come in here to relax after a call out. That’s them, just there.’

He pointed to where two women and four men were sitting around a table, laughing and talking. They were well lit, but then the lights faded into darkness, tempting Darius to slip in among the trees, hoping to remain unseen. From here he could catch a distant glimpse of the sea, that mysteriously always had the power to make him feel better.

A cheer rose from the table, making him back away, but not before he’d seen who was sitting there, surrounded by laughing admirers.

It was her. The Bad Fairy. Or was she now the Good Fairy? He wished she’d let him make up his mind.

The man beside her put a friendly hand on her shoulder, roaring, ‘Harry, you’re a fraud.’

‘Of course I’m a fraud, Walter,’ she teased back. ‘That’s the only fun thing to be.’

Harriet, he remembered. Harry.

Was there no escape from the pesky woman? Why here and now, spoiling his quiet contemplation? And why was she wearing a polo shirt that proclaimed her a member of the lifeboat crew?

Phantom was at her feet, and Darius had a chance to study him. Before, he’d sensed only a very large dog of no particular breed. Now he could see that Phantom’s ancestry included a German Shepherd, a St Bernard, and possibly a bloodhound. He was a handsome animal with a benign air that at any other time Darius would have appreciated. Now he only remembered the heavy creature pinning him to the ground and making a fool of him.

The crowd around the table were still chattering cheerfully.

‘So what are we going to do about this guy who thinks he owns the place?’ Walter asked.

‘Actually, he really does own the place,’ Harriet sighed. ‘And there’s nothing we can do. We’re stuck with him, I’m sorry to say.’

A groan went up, and someone added, ‘Apparently, he’s spending money like there’s no tomorrow, yet according to the newspapers he’s a poor man now. Go figure.’

‘Hah!’ Harriet said cynically. ‘What we call poor and what Darius Falcon calls poor would be a million miles apart.’

Now Darius was even more glad of the trees hiding him, so that they couldn’t see his reaction to the contemptuous way she spoke his name.

‘It’s a big act,’ she went on. ‘He has to splash it around to prove he can afford to, but actually he’s a fraud.’

‘Gee, you really took against him!’ said the other woman sitting at the same table. ‘Just because he got mad at Phantom for ruining his suit. I adore Phantom, but let’s face it, he’s got form for that kind of thing.’

Amid the general laughter, Harriet made a face.

‘It wasn’t just that,’ she said. ‘It’s also the way I first saw him, with his head thrown back, drinking in the sun.’

‘Perhaps he just likes nature,’ Walter suggested.

‘That’s what I thought. I even liked him for it, but then I didn’t know who he was. Now I see. He was standing there like a king come into his birthright. He owns the land and he owns us, that’s how he sees it.’

‘He told you that?’

‘He didn’t need to. It was all there in his attitude.’ She assumed a declamatory pose. ‘I’m the boss here and you’d better watch out.’

‘Now that I’d like to see,’ said Walter. ‘The last man who tried to boss you about was me, and you made me regret it.’

More cheers and laughter. Someone cracked a joke about Darius, someone else cracked another, while their victim stood in the shadows, fuming. This was another new experience and one Darius could have done without. Awe, respect, even fear, these he was used to. But derision? That was an insult.

Walter leaned towards her confidentially. ‘Hey, Harry, make a note never to rescue him. If you find him in the water, do the world a favour and look the other way.’

Roars of laughter. She raised her glass, chuckling, ‘I’ll remember.’

That was it. Time for her to be taught a lesson.

Emerging from the trees, he approached the table and stood, watching her sardonically, until the others noticed him and became curious. At last Harriet’s attention was caught and she turned. He heard her draw a sharp breath, and registered her look of dismay with grim satisfaction.

‘You’d better remind yourself of my face,’ he said, ‘so that you’ll know who to abandon.’

She couldn’t speak. Only her expression betrayed her horror and embarrassment.

He should then have turned on his heel and departed without giving her a chance to reply. But Phantom had to spoil it. Recognising his new friend, he rose from where he was nestled beneath Harriet’s seat and reared up, barking with delight.

‘Phantom, no!’ she cried.

‘Leave him,’ Darius told her, rubbing Phantom’s head. ‘You daft mutt! Is this how you get your fun? Luckily, I’m in casuals tonight. Now, get down, there’s a good fellow.’

After Harriet’s dire warnings, his relaxed tone took everyone by surprise and he noticed that puzzled frowns were directed at her. Fine. If she wanted battle, she could have it. He nodded to them all and departed.

When he reached the road he heard footsteps hurrying behind him and turned, half fearing another canine embrace. But it was her.

‘That thing about leaving you in the sea—it was just a silly joke. Of course we’d never leave anyone to drown.’

‘Not anyone,’ he echoed. ‘Meaning not even a monster like me.’

‘Look—’

‘Don’t give it another thought. The chance of my ever needing to rely on you is non-existent—as you’ll discover.’

‘Oh, really!’ she said, cross again. ‘Let’s hope you’re right. You never know what life has in store next, do you? Let’s make sure.’

Grabbing him, she yanked him under a street lamp and studied his face, frowning.

‘You look different from last time,’ she said. ‘It must be the darkness. OK, I’ve got you fixed. Hey, what are you doing?’

‘The same to you as you did to me,’ he said, holding her with one hand while the other lifted her chin to give him the best view of her face.

Harriet resisted the temptation to fight him off, suspecting that he would enjoy that too much. Plus she guessed he wouldn’t be easy to fight. There was an unyielding strength in his grasp that could reduce her to nothing. So she stayed completely still, outwardly calm but inwardly smouldering.

If only he would stop smiling like that, as though something about her both amused and pleased him. There was a gleam in his eyes that almost made her want to respond. Almost. If she was that foolish. She drew a long breath, trying not to tremble.

At last he nodded, saying in a thoughtful voice, ‘Hmm. Yes, I think I’ll remember you—if I try really hard.’

‘Cheek!’ she exploded.

He released her. ‘All right, you can go now.’

Darius walked away without looking back. He didn’t need to. He knew she was looking daggers at him.

At home in Giant’s Beacon, he sat in darkness at the window of his room with a drink, trying to understand what had so disturbed him that night. It wasn’t the hostility, something he was used to. Nor was it really the laughter, which had annoyed him, but only briefly. It was something about Harriet—something…

He exhaled a long breath as the answer came to him. She’d spoken of seeing him on the beach, ‘standing there like a king come into his birthright.’

That hadn’t been her first reaction. She’d even said she’d liked him, but only briefly, until she’d discovered who he was. Then she’d seen only arrogance and harshness, a conqueror taking possession.

But wasn’t that partly his own choice? For years he’d assumed various masks—cool, unperturbed, cunning, superior or charming when the occasion warranted it. Some had been passed on to him by a father whose skill in manipulation was second to none. Others he’d created for himself.

Only one person had seen a different side of him—loving, passionate. For twelve years he’d enjoyed what he’d thought of as a happy marriage, until his wife had left him for another man. Since then he’d tried to keep the vulnerable face well hidden, but evidently he should try harder.

He snatched up the phone and dialled his ex-wife’s number in London.

‘Mary?’

‘Do you have to ring me at this hour? I was just going to bed.’

‘I suppose he’s with you?’

‘That’s no longer any concern of yours, since we’re divorced.’

‘Are Mark and Frankie there?’

‘Yes, but they’re asleep and I’m not waking them. Why don’t you call during the day, if you can make time? I never liked having to wait until you’d finished everything else, and they don’t like it either.’

‘Tell them I’ll call tomorrow.’

‘Not during the day. It’s a family outing.’

‘When you say “family” I take it you mean—’

‘Ken, too. You shouldn’t be surprised. We’ll be married soon, and he’ll be their father.’

‘The hell he will! I’ll call tomorrow evening. Tell them to expect me.’ He slammed down the phone.

Darius had a fight on his hands there, he knew it. Mary had been a good wife and mother, but she’d never really understood the heavy demands of his work. And now, if he wasn’t careful, she would cut his children off from him.

How his enemies would rejoice at his troubles. Enemies. In the good times they had been called opponents, rivals, competitors. But the bad times had changed all that, bringing out much bile and bitterness that had previously been hidden for tactical reasons.

As so often, Harriet was hovering on the edge of his mind, an enemy who was at least open about her hostility. Tonight he’d had the satisfaction of confronting her head-on, a rare pleasure in his world. He could see her now, cheeky and challenging, but not beautiful, except for her eyes, and with skin that was as soft as rose petals; something that he’d discovered when he’d held her face prisoner between his fingers.

This was how he’d always fought the battles, gaining information denied to others. But now it was different. Instead of triumph, he felt only confusion.

After watching the darkness for a long time he went to bed.

CHAPTER THREE

HARRIET prided herself on her common sense. She needed to. There had been times in her recent past when it had been all that saved her from despair. Even now, the dark depths sometimes beckoned and she clung fiercely to her ‘boring side’ as she called it, because nothing else helped. And even that didn’t make the sadness go away. It simply made it possible to cling on until her courage returned.

She knew that people had always envied her. Married at eighteen to an astonishingly handsome young man, living in apparently perfect harmony until his death eight years later. As far as the world knew, the only thing that blighted their happiness was the need for him to be away so often. His work in the tourist industry had necessitated many absences from home, but when he returned their reunions were legendary.

‘A perfect couple,’ people said. But they didn’t know.

Brad had been a philanderer who had spent his trips away sleeping around, and expected her not to mind. It only happened while he was out of sight, so what was she complaining about? It was the unkindness of his attitude that hurt her as much as his infidelity.

She’d clung on, deluding herself with the hope that in time he would change, presenting a bright face to the world so that her island neighbours never suspected. Finally Brad had left her, dying in a car crash in America before the divorce could come through, and the last of her hope was destroyed.

To the outside world the myth of her perfect marriage persisted. Nobody knew the truth, and nobody ever would, she was determined on that.

All she had left was Phantom, who had been Brad’s dog and who’d comforted her night after night when he was away. Phantom alone knew the truth; that behind the cheerful, sturdy exterior was a woman who had lost faith in men and life. His warmth brought joy to what would otherwise have been a desert.

It was the thought of her beloved dog that made her set out one morning in the direction of Giant’s Beacon. There was still a chance to improve relations with Darius Falcon, and for Phantom’s sake she must take it.

‘I suppose I’m getting paranoid about this,’ she told herself. ‘I don’t think he’d really do anything against Phantom, but he’s the most powerful man on the island and I can’t take chances.’

She recalled that at their last meeting he’d actually spoken to him in a kindly tone, calling him ‘You daft mutt’ and ‘a good fellow’, thus proving he wasn’t really a monster. He probably had a nicer side if she could only find it. She would apologise, engage him in a friendly chat and all would be well.

The road to Giant’s Beacon led around the side of the house, and over the garden hedge she could see that the French windows were open. From inside came the sound of a man’s voice.

‘All right. Call me again when you know. Goodbye.’

Excellent, she would slip inside quickly while he was free. But as she approached the open door she heard him again, ‘There you are. I know you’ve been avoiding my calls—did you really think I’d let you go that easily?—I know what you’ve been doing and I’m telling you it’s got to stop.’

Harriet stood deadly still, stunned by his cold, bullying tone. She must leave at once. Slowly, she flattened herself back against the wall and began to edge away.

‘It’s too late for that,’ Darius continued. ‘I’ve set things in motion and it’s too late to change it, even if I wanted to. The deal’s done, and you can tell your friend with the suspicious credentials that if he crosses me again he’ll be sorry—what? Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. There’ll be no mercy.’

No mercy, she thought, moving slowly along the wall. That just about said it all. And she’d kidded herself that he had a nicer side.

No mercy.

Quietly, she vanished.

‘There’ll be no mercy.’

Darius repeated the line once more. He knew that these days he said it too often, too obsessively. So many foes had shown him no mercy that now it was the mantra he clung to in self-defence.

At last he slammed down the phone and threw himself back in his chair, hoping he’d said enough to have the desired impact. Possibly. Or then again, maybe not. Once he wouldn’t have doubted it, but since his fortunes had begun to collapse he had a permanent fear that the person on the other end immediately turned to a companion and jeered, ‘He fell for it.’

As he himself had often done in what now felt like another life.

That was one of the hardest things to cope with—the suspicion of being laughed at behind his back; the knowledge that people who’d once scuttled to please him now shrugged.

The other thing, even harder, was the end of his family life, the distance that seemed to stretch between himself and his children. It was easy to say that he’d given too much of himself to business and not enough to being a father, but at the time he’d felt he was working for them.

Mary, his wife, had been scathing at the idea.

‘That’s just your excuse for putting them second. You say making money is all for them, but they don’t want a great fortune, they want you there, taking an interest.’

He’d sacrificed so much for financial success, and now that too was fading. Lying awake at night, he often tried to look ahead to decide which path to take, but in truth there was no choice. Only one path stretched forward, leading either to greater failure or success at too great a cost. They seemed much the same.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the mood, and turned on the radio to hear the local news. One item made him suddenly alert.

‘Much concern is being expressed at the suggestion of problems with the Herringdean Wind Farm. Work has only recently started, yet—’

‘Kate,’ he said, coming downstairs, ‘what do you know about a wind farm?’

‘Not much,’ she said, speaking as she would have done about an alien planet. ‘It’s been on and off for ages and we thought it was all forgotten but they finally started work. It’ll be some way out in the channel where we don’t have to look at the horrid great thing.’

‘Show me,’ he said, pulling out a map of the island.

The site was located about eight miles out at sea, within England’s territorial waters. As these were owned by the Crown, he would gain nothing. He could even lose, since the island might be less appealing to potential buyers.

‘They’ve actually started putting up the turbines?’ he said.

‘A few, I believe, but it’ll be some time before it’s finished.’

He groaned. If he’d bought this place in the normal way, there would have been inspections, he would have discovered the disadvantages and negotiated a lower price. Instead, it had been dumped on him, and he was beginning to realise that he’d walked into a trap.

Fool! Fool!

At all costs that must remain his secret. Kate was too naïve for him to worry about, and nobody else would be allowed near.

‘Shall I start supper?’ Kate asked.

‘No, thank you. There’s something I’ve got to see.’

Darius had just enough time to get out there before the light faded. When he’d inspected the turbines he could decide if they were a problem.

For this he would need the motorboat that was also now his property, and that was lodged in a boating shed at the end of a small creek that ran in from the shore. He found it without trouble, opened the door of the shed and started up the engine.

He was expecting problems. The engine might not work, or would at least be complicated to operate. But it sprang to life at once, everything was easy to operate, and since the fuel gauge registered ‘full’ he reckoned that luck was on his side, just for once.

Briefly he glanced around for a life jacket but, not seeing one, shrugged and forgot about it. A breeze was getting up as he emerged from the creek and set out across the channel. Glancing back, he could see the beach where he’d had his first ill-fated meeting with Harriet. Then he turned determinedly away and headed for the horizon.

At last he saw it—a dozen turbines rearing out of the water, seventy metres high, and, nearby, the cargo ships bearing the loads that would become more turbines. He got as close as he could, trying to think only of the benefit to the island of this source of electricity. But the new self, who’d come to life on the beach, whispered that they spoiled the beauty of the sea.

Functional and efficient, that was what mattered. Concentrate on that.

Now the light was fading fast and the wind was mounting, making the water rough, and it was time to go. He turned the boat, realising that he’d been unwise to come out here. He wasn’t an experienced sailor, but the need to know had been compelling. Now he had just enough time to get to shore before matters became unpleasant.

Almost at once he discovered his mistake. The waves mounted fast, tossing his little boat from side to side. Rain began to fall more heavily every moment, lashing the angry water, lashing himself, soaking through his clothes, which weren’t waterproof. The sooner he drove on the better.

But without warning the engine died. Nothing he could do would start it again. Frantically, he peered at the fuel gauge and saw, with horror, that it still showed ‘Full’.

But that was impossible after the distance he’d already travelled. The reading was wrong, and must have been wrong from the start. He’d set out without enough fuel, and now he was trapped out here in the storm.

He groaned. It went against the grain to admit that he needed help, but there was no alternative. He would have to call Kate and ask her to notify the rescue service. Then it would be all over the island. He could almost hear the laughter. Especially hers. But it couldn’t be helped.

Taking out his cellphone, he began to dial, trying to steady himself with his feet as he needed both hands for the phone. That was when the biggest wave came, rearing up at the side of the boat, forcing him to cling on with both hands. With despair, he saw the phone go flying into the water. He made a dive for it but another swell hoisted the boat high, twisting it so that he went overboard into the sea.

Floundering madly, he tried to reach the boat, but the waves had already carried it away. Farther and farther away it went, beyond his strength to pursue, until it was out of sight.

Now his own body seemed to be turning against him. The shock of being plunged into cold water had caused his heart to race dangerously, making him gasp and inhale water. His limbs froze, and he could barely move them. He wondered whether he would die of cold before he drowned.

Time passed, tormenting him, then vanishing into eternity until time itself no longer existed. Perhaps it had never existed. There was only darkness on earth and the moon and stars high above.

His wretchedness was increased by the thought of his children, waiting in vain for his call tonight. They would think he’d forgotten them, and only the news of his death would tell them otherwise. Then it would no longer matter.

Darius wanted to cry aloud to them, saying he loved them and they must believe that, for he would never be able to tell them again. But the distance stretched into infinity, and then another infinity that he feared because so much was left undone in his life—so many wrongs not righted, so many chances not taken, so many words not spoken…and now…never…never…

Why was he even bothering to tread water? Why not just let go and accept the inevitable?

But giving in had never been his way. He must fight to the end, no matter how much harder it was.

In his dizzy state he seemed to lose consciousness. Or was he going mad? That might make it easier. But doing things the easy way wasn’t his style either.

Yet the madness was already creeping over him, giving him the illusion of lights in the distance. It was impossible but he saw them, streaming out over the water, turning this way and that as though searching. Then the beam fell on him, blinding him, and a cry split the darkness.

‘There he is!’

The universe seemed to whirl. Vaguely, he sensed the boat approaching, ploughing through the waves. Another few seconds—

But it seemed that a malign fate was intent on destroying him even now. A wave, bigger than the others, reared up, sweeping him with it, up—then down back into the abyss—up—down—then away from the boat to a place where he would never be found. A yell of fear and rage broke from him at being defeated at the last moment.

Then he felt a hand clasp his, the fingers tightening with fierce determination, drawing him closer. The waves fought back but the hand refused to yield to them. Suddenly he realised that two men were in the water with him, and were loading him onto a stretcher. Gradually the stretcher began to rise, taking him clear of the sea, lifting him to safety.

From somewhere a man’s voice said, ‘OK, I’ve got him. You can let go, Harry.’

And a woman replied, “No way. This one’s mine.’

Harry! That voice—

Shocked, he opened his eyes and saw Harriet’s face.

‘You,’ he whispered hoarsely.

Harriet was there, leaning close to ask, ‘Was there anyone else with you—anyone we still need to look for?’

‘No,’ he gasped. ‘I was alone.’

‘Good. Then we can go back. There’ll be an ambulance to take you to hospital.’

‘No, I must go home—my children—I’ve got to call them. Wait—’ he grasped her ‘—my cellphone went into the water. Let me use yours.’

‘I don’t have it here.’

‘Then I must call them from home.’

‘But the hospital will have—’

‘Not the hospital,’ he said stubbornly.

‘Gee, you’re an infuriating man!’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes, well, you should have left me in the water, shouldn’t you?’ he choked. ‘You had the right idea the first time.’

A coughing fit overtook him. Between them, Harriet and Walter got him under cover, and she stayed with him for the rest of the journey. He slumped in the seat, his eyes closed, on the verge of collapse. Watching him, Harriet was glad she hadn’t needed to answer his last remark. She wouldn’t have known how.

At the lifeboat station she helped him ashore, and there was another argument.

‘No hospital,’ he insisted. ‘I’m going home.’

‘Then I’ll take you,’ she said. ‘Walter—’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll do the report. You keep him safe.’

Darius was about to say that he would drive himself when he remembered that his car was a mile away. Besides, there was no arguing with this bossy woman.

Somehow, he stumbled into her car and sat with his eyes closed for the journey.

‘How did you manage to find me?’ he murmured. ‘I thought I was a goner.’

‘Kate raised the alarm. She said you left suddenly after you talked about the wind farm. Later, she went out and bumped into an old man she knows who works on the shore. He said he’d seen you leaving in your motorboat. When you didn’t return she tried to call you on your cellphone, but it was dead so she alerted the lifeboat station.’

Kate was waiting at the door when they arrived. Darius managed to stand up long enough to hug her.

‘Thank you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I owe you my life.’

‘As long as you’re safe,’ Kate insisted. ‘Just come in and get warm.’

In the hall, he made straight for the phone.

‘Get changed,’ Harriet said urgently. ‘You’re soaking.’

‘No, I’ve got to call them first. They’ll be waiting.’ He’d been dialling as he spoke and now he said, ‘Mary? Yes, I know it’s late. I’m sorry, I got held up.’

From where she was standing, Harriet could hear a woman’s sharp voice on the other end, faint but clear.

‘You always get held up. The children went to bed crying because you didn’t keep your word, and that’s it. Enough is enough.’

‘Mary, listen—’

‘I’m not going to let you hurt them by putting them last again—’

‘It’s not like that—don’t hang up—’

Harriet couldn’t stand it any more. She snatched the phone from his hand and spoke loudly. ‘Mrs Falcon, please listen to me.’

‘Oh, you’re the girlfriend, I suppose?’

‘No, I’m not Mr Falcon’s girlfriend. I’m a member of the lifeboat crew that’s just taken him from the sea, barely in time to save his life.’

‘Oh, please, do you expect me to believe that?’

Harriet exploded with rage. ‘Yes, I do expect you to believe it because it’s true. If we’d got there just a few minutes later it would have been too late. You’re lucky he’s here and not at the bottom of the ocean.’ She handed the phone to Darius, who was staring as though he’d just seen an apparition. ‘Tell her,’ she commanded.

Dazed, he took the receiver and spoke into it. ‘Mary? Are you still there?—yes, it’s true what she said.’

A sense of propriety made Harriet back away in the direction of the kitchen but an overwhelming curiosity made her leave the door open just enough to eavesdrop.

‘Please fetch them,’ she heard him say. ‘Oh, they’ve come downstairs? Let me talk to them. Frankie—is that you? I’m sorry about the delay—I fell in the water but they pulled me out—I’m fine now. Put Mark on, let me try and talk to both of you at once.’

His tone had changed, becoming warm and caressing in a way Harriet wouldn’t have believed possible. Now she backed into the kitchen and shut the door, gratefully accepting a cup of tea from Kate.

‘He’ll go down with pneumonia if he doesn’t get changed soon,’ Kate observed worriedly.

‘Then we’ll have to be very firm with him,’ Harriet said.

‘Like you were just now.’ Kate’s tone was admiring. ‘He didn’t know what had hit him.’

‘I suppose he’ll be cross with me, but it can’t be helped.’

‘As long as we keep him safe,’ Kate agreed.

Harriet look at her curiously. ‘You sound as though you really care. But he can’t be very easy to work for.’

‘I’ll take him rather than the last fellow any day. Rancing just vanished, leaving me here for weeks. He never got in touch, never paid me—’

‘Didn’t pay you?’ Harriet echoed, aghast. ‘The lousy so-and-so. How did you live?’

‘I had a little saved, but I had to spend it all. I couldn’t contact him. Nothing. Then Mr Falcon walked in and said the place was his. I was still living here because I’ve got nowhere else to go. I thought he’d throw me out and bring in an army of posh servants, but he said he wanted me to stay and he paid me for all the weeks after Rancing left.’

‘He—paid you? But—’

‘I know. He didn’t have to. He didn’t owe me and I couldn’t believe it when he handed me the cash.’

Harriet stared, feeling as though the world had suddenly turned upside down. This couldn’t be true. Darius was a villain. That had been a settled fact in her mind. Until tonight—

‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’ she asked.

‘Because he said not to. He’d be good and mad if he knew I’d told you now, so you’ll keep quiet, won’t you?’

‘Of course. I’m not even quite convinced.’

‘No, he said you wouldn’t be.’

‘He said what?’

‘Not at the time, but last night when I was making his supper, I mentioned it, asked if I could tell people, and he said that you especially must never know because you enjoyed seeing him as the devil and he didn’t want to spoil your fun.’

‘Oh, did he?’

There were no words for the unfamiliar sensation that shook her. Darius had looked into her mind and read it with a precision that was alarming. Or exciting. She wasn’t sure. One thing was certain. Everything she’d thought she knew about him was now in question. And the truth about his real nature was an even bigger question. The world had gone mad, taking her with it.

And what a journey that might be!

She recovered enough to say, ‘But if people knew he could be as generous as this they’d see him differently.’

‘Perhaps he doesn’t want them to,’ Kate said wisely.

That silenced Harriet. This was too much to take in all in one go. She needed space and solitude.

It was time to see how he was managing. Opening the door, they looked out into the hall and saw Darius sitting so still that they thought the call was ended, but then he said, ‘All right,’ in a hard voice.

After a pause he added, ‘You’d better go back to bed now—yes, all right. Goodbye.’

He set the phone down and leaned back against the wood, eyes closed, face exhausted. Something told Harriet the call hadn’t gone well.

‘Time for bed,’ Kate told him. ‘Shall we help you up the stairs?’

‘Thank you, but there’s no need,’ he growled.

He hauled himself slowly to his feet and began the weary trek, stair by stair, but waving the two women away if they seemed to get too close. They contented themselves with keeping a respectful distance, following him up and into his room, where he sat heavily on the bed.

‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I can manage.’

‘No, you can’t,’ Harriet firmly. ‘If we leave now you’ll just stretch out and go to sleep in your freezing wet clothes. Next stop, pneumonia.’

‘Now, look—’

‘No, you look. I didn’t give up my evening to come out to sea and fetch you to have you throw your life away through carelessness. You’re going to take off those wet clothes and put on dry ones.’

Darius looked warily from one to the other, and seemed to decide against argument. His eyes closed and Harriet thought for a moment he would lose consciousness. But when he opened them again an incredible change seemed to come over him.

Astonished, Harriet saw a faint grin that might almost have been good-natured, or at least resigned. Then he shrugged.

‘I’m in your hands, ladies.’

He unbuttoned his own shirt and shrugged it off, then unzipped his trousers and stood while they removed them. Kate fetched towels and a bathrobe that Harriet helped him put on. He tried to draw the edges together before removing his underpants, but his grip was weak and they fell open at the crucial moment.

Harriet quickly averted her eyes, but not before she’d seen his nakedness. Just a brief glimpse, but it told her what she didn’t want to know, that his personal magnificence measured up to his reputation in business.

Hastily, she began opening drawers, asking, ‘Where are your pyjamas?’

‘I don’t have any. Sleeping in the nude is more comfortable.’ He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Don’t you find that?’

‘I really wouldn’t know,’ she said primly. It was incredible to her that he’d chosen this moment to tease her. He was half dead, for pity’s sake! Did nothing crush him?

‘I’m making you a hot tea,’ she declared, ‘and when I come back I expect to find you in bed.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said meekly.

Now Harriet was sure she could see a gleam of humour far back in his eyes, but she couldn’t be sure.

‘I’ll leave you in Kate’s capable hands.’ Some defensive instinct made her add, ‘Don’t stand any nonsense from him, Kate.’

‘Don’t you worry,’ Kate said significantly.

‘Harriet!’ She turned at the door in response to Darius’s voice. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

‘Don’t mention it.’

She departed hurriedly. Downstairs, she made the tea but only took it halfway up the stairs before calling Kate and handing it to her. Suddenly it was important to escape him, above all to escape his knowing look that said he would tease her if he wanted to, and what was she going to do about it?

There was nothing to be done, except get back home—a place of safety, where she knew what was what.

When she got there safety greeted her in the form of Phantom. As they snuggled down under the covers she discussed the matter with him, as she discussed everything.

‘What a night! Him of all people. And it seems he’s not like… Well, I don’t know what he’s like any more. He was nice to Kate, I’ll admit that. Maybe we were wrong about him. No, not we. Just me. You always liked him, didn’t you?

‘If you could have seen him getting undressed tonight. It was an honest accident—at least, I think it was. But what I saw was impressive and maybe he meant me to see and maybe he didn’t.

‘He ticks the boxes—great thighs, narrow hips and the rest—well, never mind. But Brad also ticked the boxes, and he knew he ticked them. A man like that wasn’t going to confine himself to me, was he? And he didn’t. So if His Majesty Falcon is expecting me to be impressed he can just think again.

‘You agree with me, don’t you? Well, you do if you want that new stuff I bought for your breakfast tomorrow. Yes—yes—that’s a lovely lick. Can I have another? Thank you. Now, let’s go to sleep. And move over. Give me some room.’