squatters? The place was so far off the beaten track... Vandals, then?
She began to feel just a trifle uneasy. Living out here alone had been one of the hardest things to get used to, after so many months of being stifled in busy bustling cities, surrounded by people she didn’t know who professed to be bosom friends, suffocated by servants, intimidated by Philip...It had taken her a good long while to get used to the emptiness, the often wild, windswept loneliness of the place, especially in winter. There had been no automatic adjustment. It had taken months before she had lain peacefully in her bed at nights, without listening out for any small sign and imagining the worst...
She opened the cabin door and picked up her air-rifle from its usual place. She wouldn’t get any sleep tonight, not until she knew what was going on up there. She’d just have a quick look. The old place was a bit of an eyesore, but she had become attached to it over the months and she wouldn’t want anyone doing anything really destructive to it.
Bethany stumbled and dropped her rifle on to the ground. She crouched down on all fours, her breath catching in her throat after the steep climb, and listened. Silence, just the waves crashing on the shore far below, the occasional screech of an owl. Bethany fumbled frantically on the ground for her rifle and thanked heaven, as she gripped it tightly in her hands, that the moonlight was strong enough to see by. She craned her neck up at the light which was coming from one of the rounded turrets and gulped a breath. She knew her way around inside well enough. She would be cautious, just find out what was going on...
The stairs in this part of the building wound around at a tight angle, and with every step Bethany took she became more and more nervous.
Clutching her rifle, Bethany moved onwards and upwards. There was a door ahead. It wasn’t properly shut. Light, not as bright as she had first supposed, was streaming out on to the landing, helping to guide her way. She heard a noise, a muffled sound that sent prickles of alarm shivering up and down her spine. This was where he...they...whoever had chosen to hole up—the most habitable part of the prison. I must stop calling it that! Bethany thought desperately, inching forward so that she could peer around the partly opened door, it sounds so dreadful...
Her imagination had forced her into expecting any number of desperate sights: several Mafia-types torturing their prisoner, perhaps; a solitary tramp with a bottle of methylated spirits in one hand and a knife in the other, leaning menacingly over some poor defenceless woman; a million other equally horrendous scenes had been conjured up by Bethany’s vivid imagination—but not this, certainly never this.
She stared, paralysed by a shock that didn’t have its roots in horror or fear, but in a burning, indignant mortification.
It didn’t take more than a swift glance to assess what was going on, what was about to go on: rugs and cushions were strewn about the floor, a picnic hamper nestled in the corner of the room along with a couple of kerosene lamps and several bottles of liquid refreshment.
She had known from the very first moment that this would be Chad’s favourite occupation. She had sensed that uncompromising sexual quality the very first time she had set eyes on him. Why now did she feel so let down, so disheartened, such a fool? She should have been prepared. She should have followed her instincts and stayed in her cabin...
Bethany’s gaze fixed hypnotically on the two bodies. Chad was whispering something in the woman’s ear as they lay entwined together on the rugs and she was gazing up into his face and laughing happily as his strong, masculine hands travelled sensually over the sheer, clinging fabric of her dress...
Bethany, feeling like a voyeuse, turned sharply and began tiptoeing back down the staircase, desperate to get right away before she was discovered. Oh, what an idiot she would look now if he knew she was here! Gangs of men and abductors, indeed! She had been reading too many thrillers, that was her trouble!
Haste and embarrassment made her clumsy. Somehow she managed to bang the butt of the rifle on the wall. It wasn’t much of a noise, just a scrape really. Bethany cursed silently and listened; clearly the seduction had reached a quiet stage. The image of the two of them stretched out on the cushions, kissing with passion and hunger, flashed unwanted into her mind. She frowned. Damn! Why on earth had she been so stupid?
‘Who’s there?’
Bethany held her breath, swivelling wide green eyes to the top of the landing. Chad appeared, his muscular frame illuminated magnificently by the light from the room, dressed in faded jeans and a denim shirt that had been dragged impatiently from the waistband of his trousers and was doing an inadequate job of hiding the broad tanned chest.
Bethany closed her eyes and pressed herself flat against the wall. There was every chance that he wouldn’t see her at all; the bottom half of the winding staircase was in darkness, and unless Chad bothered to investigate further she would be all right; she would be able to escape unseen. After all, Bethany reasoned, praying desperately, he did have other, far more interesting things to attend to. The state of his clothes, clearly showed the proceedings had moved on a stage. Surely the model-type was enough to keep him occupied?
It seemed not. Chad disappeared into the room, reappeared with one of the lamps and began descending the worn stairs with a tread that was firm and intimidating in the extreme.
‘Well, well! What do we have here?’
Bethany flicked open her eyes and stared speechless as the firm mouth twisted into a mocking smile. ‘Bethany Jones, trespasser, no less!’ Chad held the lamp high above Bethany’s head and surveyed her with cool detachment. ‘Just passing?’ he drawled smoothly. ‘Or did you come to borrow a cup of sugar?’
‘Chad! Who is it, darling?’
He turned his head and shouted back up the stairs. ‘Just someone I met earlier this evening, Theo, dropped by for a visit—nothing for you to worry about. Oh, no!’ Chad swiftly grabbed hold of Bethany’s arm to prevent her from scuttling back down the staircase. ‘You don’t escape that easily, my girl! I’d like to know what you’re doing here—or do you consider that too presumptuous a question?’
Bethany’s gaze shifted towards the landing. His dishevelled partner had appeared, her wild black hair all messed up and the buttons of her dress partly undone, allowing more than a glimpse of a frothy black lace bra.
Chad followed Bethany’s gaze. ‘Make yourself decent, Theo,’ he drawled lazily. ‘I’m bringing our visitor up.’
‘You’re doing no such thing!’ Bethany hissed, glaring at the rugged features and trying desperately to drag her arm free from its hold. ‘You can’t make me enter your...your harem!’
Chad’s mouth twitched for a moment and then his eyes lighted on Bethany’s expression and his jaw tightened ominously. ‘Just watch me!’ he growled.
‘Let go of my arm!’ Bethany cried tightly. ‘You can’t do this! I’m going back home.’
‘After coming all this way?’ Chad enquired with mocking concern. ‘In the dark too, and on such a blustery night as this? Oh, no, I couldn’t allow that! Come on! Up the stairs and into my harem, as you inaccurately call it. As you’ve no doubt seen, it’s a little more hospitable up there. You can take your coat off. I can even offer you a glass of wine.’ His mouth curved provocatively. ‘We could really turn it into a party—I’m perfectly willing if you are!’
‘I don’t want any of your kind of hospitality and I most certainly do not want a glass of wine!’ Bethany snapped. She felt hot and flustered
