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The two men exchanged polite greetings and Minella turned to introduce her brother’s wife, who was hovering in the background, head averted.

‘And Sam, this is my sister-in-law, Annette. Isn’t it marvellous she could come, too?’

Annette came out of the shadow, tall and poised and with an aloof, almost disapproving look. Oh, no, Minella thought, surely she wasn’t going to play the heavy older sister bit. It wouldn’t be like her at all.

‘We’re greatly indebted to you, Mr Stafford,’ she said, offering her hand.

Sam took it slowly, and Minella’s exuberance dimmed when she saw his reaction to Annette’s beauty. He stared at her with open, incredulous admiration, his eyes gleaming, and held her hand much longer than necessary. The wretched man was blatantly flirting with her before a word was spoken!

‘It
is
marvellous you could come, Mrs Farmer, and I’m glad you find Minella in such good spirits.’ He turned to Greg. ‘I did my best to keep her quiet and rested as the doctor suggested, but it’s hard to keep track of her sometimes. Is she wilful when she’s at home?’

‘She’s always had a mind of her own,’ laughed Greg. ‘And she certainly looks fine now. We’re more than grateful.’

‘You must let us pay the doctor’s bill,’ said Annette.

‘There’s no bill to pay,’ said Sam. ‘Henrique is a friend of mine, and he was part of the rescue team. He’s become quite fond of our little waif. Can’t think why.’

Sam draped a casual arm round her shoulder as they talked about her, the words light and amusing, but Minella found nothing funny in the repartee. He was talking of one girl and thinking of another. She shrugged his hand away, angry and embarrassed.

Sam just couldn’t takes his eyes off Annette.

It
had been a difficult evening. An underlying tension was so strong that Minella couldn’t believe she was the only one who felt it, yet on the surface it had been a happy enough occasion.

‘I hope you’ll stay on for a few days,’ Sam said at dinner. There’s plenty of room in my house, and there’s something I’d like to take you to at Ponta Delgada. I know you’d enjoy it.’

Greg protested,
‘
We’ve put you out enough already.'

'Nonsense! I don’t see many English people and it’s a wonderful change. Makes me realise how much I miss my own country.’

‘Why don’t you go back to it?’ Annette asked.

Her lovely face was half hidden behind the sultry curtain of golden hair that swung to her shoulders. By day she wore it coiled at the back of her head, but this evening she looked more alluring than Minella had ever seen her. Sam was aware of it too. He went out of his way to see that everything was to her liking when dinner was served, making quite sure she liked the dryness of the wine. It was almost as if they were alone, but if Annette felt uncomfortable about the extra attention she didn’t show it. She handled the situation with cool dignity. That was the impression she gave, but as Minella watched closely she became convinced that Annette was playing some kind of game. She was certainly not impervious to Sam’s interest, though only Greg seemed not to notice.

‘I don’t know that I’d want to give up the lifestyle I have here,’ Sam admitted.

‘You’ve certainly got a beautiful home,’ said Greg, looking around.
‘He’s got a powerboat and a cottage by a lake as well,’ Minella added.

Annette raised her eyebrows eloquently. ‘Has he indeed?’

Lamplight glowed on the antique silver cutlery and porcelain dinner service, and a young girl with black plaited hair and white dress and apron waited on Sam Stafford’s guests. He knew how to entertain graciously, as if he had always been used to luxury and took it for granted, but he frowned at the mention of his possessions.

‘I wasn’t referring to material things,’ he said. ‘No doubt I could keep up the same standard in England if I wanted to, but I could never be at peace with myself the way I am here. I’ve discovered how to relax and let the world pass me by, and how to accept the inevitability of everything. I doubt if I could cope with the rat race any more.’

‘You mean you’d still live here even if you had no money?’ said Annette.

His eyes met hers across the table. ‘There’s no question of it.’

‘But you’re an artist,’ protested Greg. ‘Wouldn’t it be more exciting to hold exhibitions in England and meet all the right people in the art world?’

Minella sighed, irritated by her brother’s inability to understand, and surprised at herself for understanding so well when only yesterday she had even questioned his honesty.

‘The art world wouldn’t want to know me,’ said Sam. ‘In literary terms I’m a hack, and it’s only tourists who buy my stuff for souvenirs. As for excitement, I can do without it.’

‘Has your philosophy changed, then?’ asked Annette.

‘In what way?’

‘I have the feeling you might once have lived an exciting life.’

Sam leaned on the table, long fingers stroking the close beard which softened his jawline. ‘Mrs Farmer, or may I call you Anne....’

‘My name is Annette,’ she corrected.

‘Annette, then, perhaps we can discuss what my life is or was at some future date when it won’t make boring dinner conversation. But let me just say I would only go back to England if something affected me deeply enough to make life here unbearable. The chances are remote, and a short while ago I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my days here, but things happen unexpectedly. It may be that I shall have to return if that’s the only way to gain what I desire more than anything else.’

‘You’ll be welcome to stay with us for as long as you like,’ said Greg. ‘We can never repay you fully, but we can offer you hospitality any time you need it.’

‘Thank you. I don’t want any repayment, but what I
do
want may not please any of you, so let’s not pursue the subject further.’

He had distributed uneasiness among them which remained long after the subject was dropped. He refilled their glasses and diverted them with tales of his experiments in winemaking, which had never been successful, but though they laughed it was not with the original lightness. And the way he continued to look at Annette made Minella so angry she wished she had the courage to douse him with the contents of her glass. Apart from the insult to Greg it was a disgraceful way to behave. And the devil looked as if he enjoyed every moment of the discomfort he caused!

Was it only that afternoon she had lain with her head on his shoulder, full of warm new emotions that expanded her heart and sent dreams of glorious fulfilment cascading through her mind? Minella watched Sam concentrating all his charms on her sister-in-law and was disgusted, not only with him, but with herself for having been so naive. She had fallen into the trap just like all the other women, in spite of her initial good sense. The wisest thing she had done was escape with Vasco after the brutal kissing session he had forced on her. The thought of it now brought a pain to her chest and she couldn’t eat another thing.

‘I trust you’ll try some
aguardente
,’ Sam was saying. ‘It’s a local brandy with which our Minella is already acquainted, but I don’t think you’ll find it too strong after a good meal.’

She looked up quickly and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement as they met hers. She froze. Surely he wouldn’t ridicule her in front of everyone? The familiarity in his smile set her heart racing with fear that he might be cruel enough to disclose her escapade with Vasco, and Greg wouldn’t approve of that at all. But he turned without mentioning it, and proposed a toast instead.

‘To us!’ he said, reverting to his preoccupation with Annette. But before Greg could become suspicious he widened the address. ‘And to Minella, my little Sparrow, who unwittingly brought us all together.’

‘To Minella!’ they laughed, and raised their glasses.

‘May we never regret it,’ she said, with more seriousness than her tone implied, for she was filled with foreboding. When Sam tipped his goblet against Annette’s and held her gaze for more than a decent length of time the significance didn’t escape her.

Minella went up to her room ahead of the others, leaving them to joke with the lightness of good companions before parting for the night. She couldn’t stand it any longer. It was so obvious that all Sam had in mind was how pleasant it would be to change places with Greg and share Annette’s bed. And after the
aguardente
even Annette showed signs of wishing for the same thing. Minella felt sick.

Sam was a womaniser. She ought to have known that from the first. Any woman would do for him, but a new arrival on the scene, especially one as beautiful as Annette, was exciting game and it didn’t matter who got hurt in the chase. She had believed him when he said Consuelo only worked in the studio, and that Benita was only his housekeeper. How many more Azorean women did he keep for his amusement? Thank goodness she had found out the truth before it was too late, because she had come dangerously near to blurting out words of affection when they were together on the boat and he would soon have turned them to his advantage. How safe would she have been tonight if Greg and Annette hadn’t arrived after all?

A strong wind had sprung up since nightfall and the fig-tree outside her bedroom window cast eerie shadows on the moonlit wall. She stood in the middle of the floor and watched the leaves splay their stubby fingers and produce caricatures that matched her chaotic thoughts, fascinated, yet repelled by that fascination. The shadows were ugly and destroyed the beauty which created them.

It wasn’t Annette’s fault. With the uncanny sensitivity of one closely involved in a situation, Minella had understood exactly how Annette felt, being suddenly introduced to such a dynamic creature. If Sam Stafford chose to exert his powerful male personality it would take a strong woman to remain unaffected. Annette had tried. The frigid reception she had given his first overtures were commendable, but who could hold out against the flattery of so much personal attention? The fact that Annette had softened visibly towards the end of the evening was what worried Minella, and all her fury was directed at Sam because it was her beloved brother who was eventually going to get hurt, and he certainly didn’t deserve it.

She put her hand to her throat and touched the gold chain Sam had given her. Grasping it tightly, she was tempted to drag it from her neck and stretch every link beyond repair, but though her knuckles turned white she resisted the temptation and presently undid the catch. For a second the memory of his touch weakened her, but she thrust it aside, determined never to react that way again.

With the pendant bunched into her palm she left her room and went across the corridor to where she had heard Sam slam a door after bidding his guests goodnight. Temper made her careless of propriety and she almost burst into his room without knocking. She stopped just in time and gave the thick wood panels an imperious staccato rap. He came immediately, as if he had been waiting, yet no way could he have mistaken the knock for that of a would-be lover. He had already removed his shirt and the belt of his pants was in his hand.

‘I don’t want any gifts from you, Sam,’ Minella declared icily. ‘You can take this back and save it for a more accommodating recipient!’

She pushed the pendant at him, and when surprise made him delay in taking it, it fell to the floor and lay glittering between them.

‘You’d better come in,’ he said, stooping to retrieve it.

‘No. I’ve nothing else to say. Goodnight.’

Before she was aware of his intention his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, dragging her over the threshold before she could put up a fight.

‘Now you can tell me what this nonsense is all about,’ he said, as the door closed firmly behind her.

She was alone with Sam in his bedroom. Her legs were quaking, but she took a deep breath and faced him with all the confidence she could muster. Let him know right away how low he had sunk in her estimation!

‘You behaved abominably this evening, and I’ll thank you to leave my brother’s wife alone,’ she said, firing the first shot like David attacking Goliath. ‘If only you could see what a fool you look ogling every woman within reach! You’re always telling me not to be juvenile, but what on earth do you think
you
look like, acting as if you’re a star-struck teenager? At your age! You...

‘Hey wait a minute!’ Sam stopped her in mid-flow, astounded by the outburst. ‘Just what have I done to merit all this?’

‘You don’t need me to tell you. From the moment you saw Annette you made a dead set at her, but let me warn you, Sam Stafford, she’s much too good for you, and she’s got more sense than to fall for your ridiculous philandering!’

‘I’m sure she’s a very sensible girl,’ he agreed.

‘Then respect her, and my brother, and don’t go chancing your luck!’

Her temper was at its height and she didn’t trust herself to say any more, so she swung round, intending to make a haughty exit, but it didn’t work that way. Sam wasn’t a man to take abuse quietly and she hadn’t allowed him to speak for himself. The belt in his hand flicked round like a whip, encircling her waist with stinging accuracy, and she was drawn back towards him, helpless.

‘Don’t think you can issue orders in my house, Miss High-and-Mighty, especially not to me,’ he said, his voice dangerously low. ‘If you’ve finished having your say it’s time you listened to me. I don’t need any reprimands for showing your sister-in-law the kind of courtesy she would expect from me. She’s a very beautiful woman and should be treated as one. Your nasty insinuations spring only from your nasty little mind, and I’m sure she would be as amazed as I am that you object to my treatment of her. Had you behaved more like a lady yourself I might have shown you the same courtesy.’

Minella wriggled against the restricting leather. ‘Thank goodness I’ve been spared it!’

He now held each end of the belt in his hands, imprisoning her within inches of his chest, and she could smell the expensive spray he had used when changing for dinner. His shoulders gleamed and the muscles of his arms rippled as he tightened his hold of the belt and forced her even closer until their bodies touched in spite of her resistance. His powerful thighs burned against hers through the thin material separating them, and she felt as if she was suffocating.