Born Out of Love Page 13

  Charlotte’s nervousness manifested itself in her stomach, and the nausea she had felt earlier came back worse than before. ‘Oh, please,’ she begged. ‘Leave me alone!’

  Logan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded, but she was in no state to answer him.

  With a little sob, she rushed to the side, and gave herself up to wretchedness. She heard Robert’s worried exclamations mingling with Manoel’s concerned reassurances; but it was Logan again who eventually interposed himself between her and the rail, pushing a linen napkin into her hand, and drawing her down on to the rough wooden seating.

  She wiped her face miserably, aware of all eyes upon her, Logan’s the nearest, and the most inscrutable. ‘If this is what happens when I ask what I considered to be a perfectly reasonable question, I shall have to be more careful what I say in future,’ he commented dryly.

  Charlotte’s lips twitched. ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked down at her pants, their pristine whiteness stained now with the salt water which had splashed over the side. ‘What a mess!’

  Logan got to his feet. ‘A physical or a mental observation?’ he queried softly, and then lifted his hand apologetically. ‘Don’t answer that.’

  Carlos was watching them from the wheel. He had apparently taken over in Logan’s absence, and his expression was sympathetic. Robert, who had been hovering close by, probably told to keep out of the way until his mother was feeling better, now approached her, his smile anxious.

  ‘Are you okay, Mum?’ he exclaimed, and then looked up at Logan. ‘Is she?’

  Logan inclined his head. ‘I think so. Now.’

  Robert looked relieved. ‘Miss Mendoza said we might have to turn back. But you’ll be okay, won’t you, Mum?’

  Logan’s mouth turned down. ‘I get the impression you’re more concerned on your own behalf than your mother’s,’ he remarked caustically.

  Robert went bright red, unaccustomed to being spoken to in that tone by Logan. ‘I’m not!’ he muttered defensively. ‘I just asked—–’

  ‘I know exactly what you asked,’ retorted Logan sharply. ‘Give a thought to your mother’s feelings, can’t you? It’s not pleasant being made to feel you’re in the way!’

  ‘I didn’t!’

  Robert looked appealingly towards Charlotte, and she took pity on him. ‘I really do feel much better, Robert,’ she assured him, although in truth she was still uneasy. Her eyes met Logan’s. ‘Thank you,’ she added, and an unreadable expression crossed his face before he strode back to the wheel.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY dropped anchor in Deadman’s Cove about twenty minutes later. Charlotte had done as Logan suggested and determinedly kept her eyes on the steady line of the horizon, and by the time they moored in the cove she was able to view her surroundings with more enthusiasm. The waters of the cove were too shallow to sail closer to the beach, she heard Logan explaining to Manoel, but it was possible to swim ashore without difficulty.

  It was a little before eleven, and Carlos opened up one of the lockers and extracted cans of lager from a cold box. Manoel decided that he would like coffee instead and Charlotte agreed that she would prefer something non-alcoholic.

  ‘Why is it called Deadman’s Cove?’ Robert was asking now, and Logan pointed to the steep, tropically foliaged cliff which backed the semi-circle of sand across the remaining expanse of water.

  ‘It’s said that pirates used to maroon men here,’ he remarked knowledgeably. ‘There’s no escape. The cliffs are unscalable, and as there is no fresh water supply …’ He grimaced mockingly, his previous impatience with the boy apparently dispersed. ‘Make sure you’re back on board before we sail!’

  Robert grinned, and Charlotte guessed he was relieved to be back on good terms with Logan again. ‘I will, don’t worry.’ He looked over the side. ‘Can we swim?’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ declared Elaine irritably, obviously not appreciating being ignored. ‘Logan, help me on with this harness. I can’t wait to get into the water.’

  Logan glanced round at her resignedly, wiping chilled lager from his mouth with the back of his hand. Put that cylinder down, Elaine,’ he said in much the same tone he had used to Robert earlier. ‘If you want to swim, go ahead, but you’re not to go diving alone.’

  Elaine dropped the cylinder with a thud on to the deck, and Logan’s mouth tightened. But he said nothing, merely continued to drink from the can of lager he had opened. Manoel had come to join Charlotte where she was standing near the stern, and he pulled a face at his daughter’s show of temper.

  ‘Elaine will learn that she cannot control Logan as she manages to control me,’ he observed softly. ‘But generally they get along very well, don’t you think?’

  Charlotte ignored the uncoiling core of jealousy inside her. She had to admit that was what it was, but she also knew she had to overcome it. Even so, Manoel’s words, like his daughter’s, were chosen for a purpose, and she wasn’t altogether sure she liked his way of coupling them together; both parents—but different generations, she thought frustratedly.

  Now she sipped the mug of coffee Carlos had given her, and said cautiously: ‘I really don’t know them—well enough to judge.’

  ‘No, perhaps not.’ Manoel was not perturbed. ‘But Elaine needs someone like Logan to keep her in order. A weaker man would have the devil’s own life with her.’

  ‘As you do?’ inquired Charlotte wryly, unable to resist the retort, and he chuckled good-humouredly.

  ‘Indeed. As I do,’ he agreed, without rancour.

  Logan appeared at her side. ‘You are wearing a bathing suit, Charlotte?’ he asked curtly, and she turned to him with unwilling eagerness.

  ‘I’ve—brought a bathing suit,’ she admitted reluctantly, ‘but I’m not wearing it.’

  Logan’s irritation was evident. ‘You’re going to get wet if you don’t,’ he observed. ‘I suggest you change.’

  ‘Here?’ Charlotte was horrified. ‘Now!’

  ‘As soon as Carlos and the others are in the water, yes.’ He turned to her companion. ‘Manoel, I have something I’d like you to see.’

  The two men moved away together and Charlotte looked round frustratedly. Elaine had apparently taken Logan at his word, and she and Robert were already in the water. The Brazilian girl had shed her cotton jacket and the bra of her bikini was as scanty as the briefs.

  Carlos was preparing to use a snorkel. He had already put on the face mask and was adjusting the breathing tube before lowering himself into the water. Rubber flippers flapped noisily as he stepped over the side, and he raised a hand in salute to Logan as he disappeared.

  Charlotte sighed. Three down and two to go, she thought irritably. How could she get changed here? It was far too exposed. She had expected to be able to change in Logan’s bungalow, not on the deck of the sailboat.

  Logan turned from the chart he had spread out on the engine housing and which he and Manoel had been studying to regard her impatiently.

  ‘You can go ahead,’ he remarked. ‘Get changed! I promise we won’t look.’

  Charlotte’s face burned. ‘I don’t think I want to go in the water,’ she said.

  Logan’s mouth compressed. ‘Don’t be foolish, Charlotte. That’s the whole point of the exercise.’

  ‘Your exercise, perhaps,’ she replied, speaking as pleasantly as she could, aware of Manoel watching their exchange. ‘I—really, I’m fine—–’

  ‘Charlotte!’ Logan’s voice had that harsh ring about it now, but Manoel intervened.

  ‘I think perhaps—Charlotte? May I?’ He smiled ingenuously; ‘I think perhaps Charlotte would prefer to be completely alone, Logan. That’s understandable, isn’t it? Come.’ He began to unfasten his trousers, and Charlotte’s momentary fears were stilled when they revealed navy blue swimming trunks beneath. ‘I shall enjoy a swim myself.’

  Logan’s smouldering stare moved from Charlotte to the other man. He seemed about to make some further comment,
but changed his mind at the last minute. With a brief word, which even someone who did not understand his language could apprehend as being far from complimentary, he folded the chart, thrust it away in a locker and accompanied Manoel to the rail. But when the older man performed a neat dive into the lucid green waters of the cove, he stepped back again and Charlotte was confronted by his tight-lipped disapproval.

  ‘Such a fuss!’ he snapped sharply. ‘You really do enjoy annoying me, don’t you?’

  Charlotte held up her head. ‘Just because I’m not prepared to do a striptease for your benefit—–’

  ‘A striptease!’ Logan was scathing. ‘I doubt if you’d know how.’ Then, as she recoiled from him, he added: ‘Do you want me to take your clothes off myself?’

  She gasped, but now was not the time for trepidation. ‘Oh, yes,’ she exclaimed. ‘You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? No doubt you’ve had plenty of experience!’

  ‘With you?’ His lips twisted. ‘Not as much as I’d like, believe me!’

  Charlotte’s brief spasm of aggression was rendered useless. However she tried to fight him, he had an innate ability to disarm her.

  ‘So?’ he went on. ‘Must we waste any more time?’

  Charlotte’s fingers moved obediently to the tied fastening beneath her breasts. The tapes pulled loose quite easily, but she held them in her hands, keeping the two sides of the blouse in position. For a moment Logan seemed mesmerised by her actions, and then with a muffled oath, he turned away, vaulting over the gunwale and into the water without a backward glance.

  Charlotte’s two-piece bathing suit could hardly be called a bikini, but she had lost weight since coming to San Cristobal, and the belted briefs hung low on her slender hips. The bra fitted better, its cleavage exposing the swelling contours of creamy white skin. She removed the chiffon scarf which confined her hair, and immediately the weight of honey-brown hair tumbled about her shoulders. She thought how wet it would become in the water, and guessed that was why Elaine wore such an easy-to-manage style.

  Robert’s hands came to grip the side of the boat, and the top of his head appeared. ‘Are you coming in the water—hey! You look super, Mum!’

  Far from reassuring her, Robert’s words made her doubtful. ‘I might just sunbathe—–’ she was beginning, when Carlos swung himself back on board.

  ‘You ready, Mrs Derby?’ he inquired easily, and with a sigh, she nodded.

  Carlos’s gleaming black body dripped water over the bleached boards of the ketch as he handed her a pair of flippers and told her to put them on her feet.

  ‘Have you ever swum with rubbers?’ he asked, and she shook her head. ‘You’d better get used to them first, then,’ he suggested, and she stood looking at him doubtfully, feeling ridiculously like a stranded penguin.

  ‘What do I do?’

  ‘Well, you get in the water,’ he told her dryly. ‘Do you need any assistance?’

  ‘Oh, no. No!’ She shook her head, and under Robert’s amused stare, she clambered over the side and practically tumbled head-first into the soft clear water.

  It was difficult surfacing. Her feet kept wanting to be where her head should be, and she realised what Carlos had meant about getting used to the flippers. She came up spluttering to find Logan beside her, and he grasped a painful handful of her hair to keep her afloat. Her eyes stung, but he seemed immune to her discomfort.

  ‘Kick your legs,’ he told her. ‘That’s right. Not too hard. Get a rhythm, and you’ll find it’s easy.’

  And it was—but Charlotte was more conscious of his nearness than anything else. She stared at him tormentedly and when he released her hair to turn her back to him, his hand firm on her midriff, she thought he had guessed what she was thinking.

  But when his name spilled from her lips, he merely tightened his hold on her, saying half impatiently: ‘Kick your legs and let your body relax. Now, can you hold your breath for a while, and I’ll show you how to keep just below the surface of the water?’

  Despite Elaine’s chiding ridicule and Robert’s well-meaning interference, Charlotte soon mastered the technique of allowing her legs to propel her forward. Instead of threshing about wildly with her arms and defeating her object, she learned to keep them by her sides, and glide smoothly through the water. This achieved, Logan taught her how to open her eyes underwater, and the sun-warmed world which opened up beneath her displaced all lingering traces of self-consciousness.

  She had been afraid she might feel sick, as she had in the boat, but there was so much to see she forgot to even think about it. The water wasn’t deep, no more than six to eight feet, but it teemed with life. Waving banks of turtle grass gave way to rocky formations, where every crack and cranny harboured sponges and sea urchins, snails and anemones, and small corals clinging for survival. She had imagined the colours would be muted, but she sunlight was so strong, the patterns of the vivid creatures they passed stood out in bright relief. There were tropical fish of every kind, as well as worms and starfish, and armoured shellfish that withdrew inside their defences with the touch of a finger.

  As soon as Logan was satisfied she was at home in the water, he swam back to the boat and collected her a face mask and snorkel, introducing her to the technique of breathing through a tube. The mouthpiece seemed huge to begin with, but Logan was patient and soon she could handle it without choking.

  ‘Are you going to spend the whole day playing about in the shallows?’ Elaine was demanding of Logan, when Charlotte emerged from an exhilarating spell in the cathedral quiet below the surface, and he shook his head.

  ‘Once Charlotte has mastered using the snorkel, we’ll go out into deeper water,’ he promised her indulgently, and Charlotte guessed he meant to use the oxygen tanks.

  ‘Don’t concern yourself about me,’ she said at once, pushing the mask up over her hair. ‘Robert and I can manage quite satisfactorily on our own.’

  Logan’s reaction was not entirely unexpected. ‘I shall decide if or when you can satisfactorily be left alone,’ he stated, raking back his wet hair. Unlike her, he had not worn a mask and breathing tube, relying instead on his experienced control of his breathing, surfacing only to fill his lungs before plunging underwater once more. ‘And as it is after twelve, I suggest we have lunch before venturing further afield.’

  It was too hot to put on any clothes, and Charlotte contented herself with the thought that so long as Elaine was around, no one would pay much attention to her. That she was wrong soon became obvious when Manoel insinuated himself beside her, although it crossed her mind that Elaine might be encouraging her father’s interest, pairing off Carlos with Robert, and herself with Logan.

  Lunch was a delicious meal of cold chicken and potato salad, ham rolls, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. There were lobster patties, and mushroom vol-au-vents, savoury sausages and stuffed eggs, as well as cherry meringues and chocolate icecream, that melted before it was consumed. There was plenty of fresh fruit for those who wanted it and two bottles of champagne, which Manoel confided he had provided. It was delightful relaxing after the morning’s activities, and in a facile way, Charlotte was enjoying herself. It was strange to think that until recently she had found nothing unusual in spending a whole day in idleness, when now, after only a little under three weeks, she already appreciated the privilege.

  Logan lounged on the deck with Carlos, while Elaine stretched her length beside them, lying on her stomach and unfastening the bikini bra so that the heat of the sun should not leave a mark across her already bronzed back. Charlotte was dismayed at her own reactions to this deliberate display of provocation, but she was unaware she was staring until Logan intercepted her gaze and shrewdly guessed the reason for it. The palm of his hand descended on Elaine’s smooth flesh, and Charlotte was hotly resentful when what he said drifted easily on the still air:

  ‘I think you had better make yourself decent, pequena. You are embarrassing my guest.’

  Immediately, Elaine sat up and looked defian
tly across at Charlotte, making no attempt to cover herself. ‘What is the matter, Mrs Derby?’ she demanded carelessly. ‘Haven’t you ever gone—how do you say it?—topless, no?’

  Robert’s reactions were to gather up some shells he had collected and carry them to the rear end of the boat, but before Charlotte could make any protest, Logan thrust a towel into Elaine’s unwilling hands.

  ‘That will do,’ he told her flatly, and she made an angry face at him before pushing the towel aside and snatching up the bra and putting it on again.

  ‘Such a fuss!’ she muttered sulkily. ‘No one else is complaining. Just because she’s a prude—–’

  ‘Caluda!’ Logan lapsed into Portuguese, and judging from Elaine’s expression, Charlotte did not think that what he was saying was particularly favourable to her. Manoel raised his eyebrows, but made no complaint, and with a pang she realised that he was prepared to countenance Logan’s censure because he approved of their relationship.

  After a while they all relaxed, physically at least, although Charlotte’s mind was far from inactive. She contemplated Logan through half closed lids, relieved to see that his eyes were closed. He was lying flat on his back and her eyes moved over his supine form, lingering on the taut skin covering his rib-cage, his flat stomach, and the powerful muscles of his thighs. His legs were long and darkened with hair, his feet narrow and well formed. She gained a certain amount of satisfaction from the knowledge that Robert had inherited his father’s lithe indolence, and in a few years would no doubt be equally attractive to the opposite sex. Even so, it was incredible to think that she and Logan had once shared such an intimacy, had once lain in one another’s arms without even the barrier of a bathing suit between them. And yet was it so incredible, when only days ago she had experienced a similarly wanton sensation on the beach?