The Marriage Proposition. Sara Craven

up like a bad penny. Reminding her starkly of all the past humiliations and hurt she’d suffered at his hands. His very presence a threat to her new-won peace of mind.

      If she allowed him to be.

      I’m going home tomorrow, she thought. And Nick’s going back to the yacht, and his friends, and his blonde. And, if I play my cards right, the next time we are obliged to meet we should be divorced, and I’ll be free of him for ever.

      A reassuring thought to go to sleep on.

      She was just finishing breakfast the next morning when Jack appeared on the hotel terrace, looking serious.

      ‘Brad’s just rung,’ he said. ‘Apparently that storm is building up, and Hilaire would like to be on his way before they close the airport at Sainte Marie.’

      ‘No problem. I’m all ready.’ Paige hastily downed the last of her coffee and rose.

      ‘But I’m not,’ Angela wailed. ‘I thought we were going to have a nice leisurely morning together.’

      ‘You still could, but only if Paige is prepared to stay on until the storm blows itself out.’ Jack gave her a questioning look. ‘You know none of us want you to go.’

      ‘Then now’s the ideal time—before I outstay my welcome.’ Paige gave Angela a swift hug. ‘Life’s certainly not dull here. I’ve never had to outrun a storm before.’

      Although it wasn’t just the weather she was trying to outfox, she thought as she went upstairs to check her room one last time. She wasn’t surprised that warnings were being stepped up. It had been dull since dawn, the sun an orange disc behind a veil of steely cloud. The sea was a grey mirror and in the garden below it was still, the palms hanging their heads, motionless.

      Brad was waiting when she came downstairs, and there was a flurry of hugs and goodbyes.

      ‘Come back soon,’ Angela called as they drove off.

      ‘I’ll second that.’ Brad shot her a smiling glance.

      She said lightly, ‘You couldn’t keep me away.’

      The car windows were open as they drove to the airstrip, but there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze to ease the leaden atmosphere. There was an odd threatening stillness in the air, as if the natural order had been suspended and was waiting for what might come.

      Formalities at the strip were brief. Brad stood with her while her bags were being stowed on the small, smart plane waiting on the tarmac.

      As he bent to kiss her, she was passive in his embrace.

      He released her reluctantly. He said urgently, ‘You still have time to change your mind. You could stay.’

      She sighed inwardly. ‘Brad, I told you—I have to work for my living.’

      ‘And I’ve told you—I’ll give you a job any time you like.’ His voice roughened. ‘I’ll give you anything you want. Hell, Paige, I don’t want to lose you.’

      But there was never any question of that, because I never belonged to you in the first place, she thought. And it would never have worked anyway.

      She paused, wondering how she could be so certain. Why she knew this kind, successful, attractive man was not for her, when most other women of her acquaintance would have thanked God for him.

      He kissed her again, but in farewell and release, and she gave him a final smile and walked up the steps into the aircraft.

      There were four seats, all unoccupied.

      ‘Am I the only passenger?’ she asked Hilaire, who was already at the controls, making last minute adjustments.

      ‘One more, just.’ He sent her a cheerful smile over his shoulder. ‘As soon as he’s on board we go.’

      Paige hesitated, trying to deal with her uneasiness. The strange sense of foreboding that assailed her. ‘I suppose it is still safe to fly?’

      ‘You trust old Hilaire, lady.’ His tone was reassuring. ‘I’ll look after you. Get you to Sainte Marie soon as the gentleman comes.’ He paused. ‘And here he is now.’

      At last, Paige thought with relief. The quicker they were off, the better she’d be pleased.

      As the newcomer entered the cabin she looked up, her mouth curving in a polite, welcoming smile. Then she stopped, her body suddenly rigid, the breath escaping her lungs in a gasp of pure shock.

      Nick Destry said softly, ‘Well, what a small world it is.’ He slotted himself into the seat in front of her and fastened his seatbelt, then turned to look back at her. His edged smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Good morning, darling. Running away again?’

      She said between her teeth, ‘I am now.’

      She fumbled with her own belt, trying desperately to release it. She had to leave—to get off the plane. Because a tropical storm was a welcome alternative to being cooped up with Nick, even for a short flight.

      She thought, I can’t—I won’t endure it …

      But as the belt finally gave way she heard the engine start, and the plane began to move, preparing for take-off.

      And she knew it was too late.