would almost certainly regret it.'
Mandy felt her heart beating faster. His threat had scared her. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she decided that maybe he was being kind and trying to keep her from being hurt by discovering the secret of her family. She shook her head to clear it. 'I need time to think,' she said slowly.
It was difficult. Her brain seemed addled. For the life of her, she could think of no other logical reason why Pascal should warn her. Unless it was somehow to his advantage.
Advantage... That popped a memory into her head: the wording of the cryptic advertisement. 'Please contact the office below where you will learn something to your advantage.' She pursed her lips. His father had placed that advert and he'd virtually promised her something good. Her eyes shone. Something good! Not bad. Not frightening or disgusting!
Either he or Pascal was lying. But which of them?
'Decided?' he asked silkily.
'No.' She moistened her mouth with another long sip of juice, closed her heavy eyes and let the sun warm her lids. She was getting tired. The journey had sapped her strength and she wanted to lie down and rest, but she couldn't let Pascal see that she felt weak to her very, bones.
Her eyes seemed reluctant to open. Slowly her lashes lifted, fluttering with the effort. The sun and sea were so dazzling to her eyes that they were blurred. As though through a fog, a thought surfaced in her mind.
'You were looking through his papers.' She frowned, finding it difficult to formulate words, and wondered if she was suffering from jet lag. One of the people whom she delivered mail to had said that it only happened on west-east journeys, but he could have been wrong. 'What did you dis-discover about me?' she asked carefully.
'Enough,' he answered curtly, draining his glass. He shot her an assessing look. 'Enough to damn you.'
She stiffened, her eyes rounding in distress. She couldn't form the question in her mind. And maybe she would be wise never to ask, never to know. 'You—you're frightening me,' she managed at last.
The fierce blue eyes burned with a cold, piercing fire. 'So I should hope. The whole thing alarms me,' he said softly.
'No!' she moaned. All her instincts were telling her to run from the truth, to leave the island and let her past remain a secret known only to Pascal, his father, and... her relative. The person who had paid to have her brought out to St Lucia.
'You can't stay. Your life would be a living hell,' persisted Pascal remorselessly.
She gave a shuddering sob, seeing ahead of her her slow coming to terms with being quite alone in the world, never to find her family.
She gulped, emotion and weariness making it hard for her to get her words out coherently. 'Tell your father I w-wish him well and I'm...sorry to let him down. I hope he feels better soon,' she added, trying to hold her fuzzy mind together. 'Poor, poor man.'
Something dark and anguished flickered in Pascal's eyes and then his lids dropped to conceal whatever secrets lay there. 'Poor man, hell! Last time I saw him he was screaming abuse at the stretcher-bearers,' he said quietly. His mouth twisted at the memory and when he saw her sympathetic expression he lowered his lids again to conceal anything that might betray his true thoughts. 'I gather from your sweet, parting sorrow that you've decided to call it a day.'
'I think so,' she said slowly.
He swung her limp body around to face him and Mandy's dulled brain registered the shaking in his hands that betrayed an extreme tension. 'Stop thinking. Just make sure you go. I don't want to see you hurt,' he said softly. 'And if you stay you will be, I swear. Do the sensible thing. Get a suntan, eat, drink and be merry for the next two weeks, then leave St Lucia and don't ever come back.'
She tried to focus on what was going on all around them and to see herself enjoying a holiday at Anse La Verdure. Carefully, elaborately, she built up the picture.
People were having fun.