boat to smithereens, the splintered fragments whirling on a great gust of wind before being swallowed up by the blackness of the sky.
Serena was fascinated. She found the untamed beauty of the storm exhilarating and the wildness of the scene stirred her senses. How could she know that for the rest of her life she would always look back on this day, thinking that if it hadn’t been for the storm things would have been so different.
Suddenly an involuntary gasp exploded from her lips when, stretching on tiptoe to scan the far side of the garden, she spotted something or someone moving behind the thick trunk of a date palm.
A figure stumbled out into the open. It was a man, his shirt flapping wildly like the wings of some huge prehistoric bird. As the full force of the wind hit him he dropped on to his belly and with his head curled into his chest, he crawled across the sodden ground towards the shelter of the house.
Serena shared his discomfort, afraid for him, as she watched his painfully slow progress. Every few yards he was forced to lie flat, covering his head with his hands as meagre protection from flying branches and other debris. As he drew nearer he seemed to shout for help, but his voice must have been lost in all the chaos.
She snapped out of her state of mental paralysis and jolted herself into action, running across the large drawing room, down two wide steps and into an internal courtyard that led to the hall.
She could hear the stranger’s muffled shouts as she flung open the heavy wooden door. He was slumped against the stone wall of the covered walkway which crossed the front of the house. Staring at him, speechless, she noticed how his broad chest heaved as he turned to face her.
He was panting.
Unable to take her eyes off the man it suddenly struck Serena that she must look totally stupid, standing there gaping. But just as she was about to say something, a particularly ferocious gust of wind lifted him and hurled him forward. She raised her hands to ward him off but the heavy weight of his body fell clumsily, crashing into her right shoulder. She cried out as her ankle twisted and she slid to the floor.
A second later the man was kneeling beside her, his strong hands cool on her bare shoulders. She could smell his wet clothes and a musky aroma coming from his skin, or was it his hair, she wasn’t sure which.
‘Are you OK?’ His voice was very deep.
A sharp pain shot through her ankle. It hurt like hell but Serena forced herself to suppress her tears.
‘It’s not much, I don’t think.’ Her voice was tremulous.
‘Let me look at it,’ he said, gently lifting her right foot.
Supporting her ankle with one hand, he tenderly ran his fingers over her skin, delicately searching for any signs of serious damage. Closing her eyes, Serena sat very still whilst he completed the examination.
‘No bones broken, thank God,’ he announced, his dark head glistening in the dim light. As he spoke he blinked rapidly, several times, to clear his vision of the tiny drops of rain which fell from his eyelashes.
Serena was shocked by the intense green of his eyes. And when a gleaming smile lit up his dark face, she suddenly felt that she’d known him for a very long time. Holding those eyes for what seemed like an age, she marvelled at the unpredictability of love at first sight.
‘Serena darling, what on earth is going on?’
Lord Frazer-West was striding towards them, dressed in a long cotton shirt and jeans; closely followed by Joseph, the butler, in starched white shirt and bow tie.
Reluctantly Serena dragged her eyes away from the stranger.
‘I’m not absolutely sure myself,’ she responded, glancing briefly in her husband’s direction before reverting her full attention to the other man.
It annoyed her that neither Nicholas nor the butler made any move to help the soaked stranger as he struggled to close the solid mahogany door behind him.
Instead they looked on in silence, each gazing at him expectantly.
‘I apologize for bursting in on you like this, but my car broke down.’
Serena thought he looked extremely uncomfortable as he glanced from face to face.
‘I could have been killed out there,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘Well, you almost killed me,’ Serena commented with a hint of amusement in her voice, glancing down at her ankle which was beginning to swell.
‘What happened, darling?’ asked Nicholas, stepping in front of the man to approach his wife. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said casually, not wanting any fuss. ‘It’s nothing much. I tripped and twisted my ankle, that’s all.’
Nicholas immediately spun round, confronting the stranger, his dark eyes clouded.
The man was smiling apologetically. ‘It was my fault entirely. Well, the real fault lies with the wind actually. I was literally lifted off my feet and thrown at the good lady. In my opinion the damage is only a slight sprain. Some ice on it, with a strapping, should do the trick.’
For some inexplicable reason Lord Nicholas Frazer-West found the man’s perfect diction disconcerting. ‘What on earth were you doing out in the storm, man! There was plenty of warning.’
His impatience showed in the tight line of his mouth, whilst he looked the intruder up and down with obvious distaste. Noticing several muddy footprints on the marble floor, he consoled himself with the thought that at least the culprit wasn’t standing on the Chinese washed rug in the drawing room.
‘I had my reasons, believe me,’ came the answer. ‘But I’ve experienced storms like this before. They are capable of uprooting trees, and I thought I should take shelter. You were the closest house.’
‘You’re soaked to the skin,’ said Nicholas matter of factly.
Serena raised her eyes, mildly irritated by the fact that her husband could always be relied upon to state the obvious, whatever the situation.
‘Of course he’s wet Nicholas! So would you be if you’d just been outside,’ she retorted. And without waiting for a reply she spoke briskly to the butler. ‘Take the gentleman into the guest room Joseph, find him some dry clothes, and later set an extra place for supper.’
The butler didn’t move. He inclined his head and waited, glancing in Lord Frazer-West’s direction.
Nicholas was too intent on observing his wife to notice. He was frowning as he recognized the all too familiar thrust of her chin. Her sapphire blue eyes were challenging him, and he swiftly decided it would be futile to argue.
‘Do as the mistress says, Joseph.’ Lord Frazer-West spoke with the voice of one who’d been accustomed to servants all his life. Joseph nodded, still not saying a word.
‘Cat got your tongue, Joseph?’ Serena teased.
‘Serena,’ snapped Nicholas.
The butler lowered his eyes and then mumbled, ‘No mistress, ain’t bin no cats around here today.’
She grinned in spite of herself, then turned her gaze to the stranger. She guessed he must be feeling increasingly ill at ease, caught up in domestic tensions that had nothing to do with him. And his next words proved her right.
‘Listen folks. I can shelter in the kitchen, out of your way, until the storm eases up. I really had no intention of disturbing anyone’s evening; I just didn’t feel like being injured out there.’
Serena came to his rescue. ‘You’re not disturbing anyone’s evening; is he Nicholas?’
Nicholas didn’t reply, but his belligerent body language said it all.
Serena continued unperturbed. ‘We were going to have an early supper; play cards and wait for the storm to pass. You might help to break the monotony. We would