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'Little?' Fran exploded at him, trying to force the tangle of curls out of her eyes as the wind whipped them to a froth. 'I don't call this little. "Let's go around the rocks," you said. You didn't say you were taking me mountaineering!'
'Don't exaggerate, Fran,' he drawled, with a grin at her flushed face and heaving breasts.
'This kind of thing may turn you on, Ross Tarrant,' she said bitingly, unreasonably annoyed by that masculine gleam. 'But I don't find it at all exciting.'
'What kind of thing?' He leaned his shoulder against the rock, as if there was a square kilometre of solid ground beneath his feet instead of a narrow ledge above a three-metre drop to some treacherous seas.
'Danger,' Fran gritted at his handsome, dangerous face.
'It's not really dangerous, if you know what you're doing.'
'But I don't know what I'm doing!' she wailed with a shiver. Down on the beach it had been warm, the sun high in the sky, but up here the wind cut through her sweater and chilled her skin.
'I do, and that's all you have to worry about,' he said complacently. 'Now jump, sweetie, and I'll catch you.' He held his arms wide, bracing himself with one hip and knee against the rockface.
'What if I fall?'
'I won't let you fall.'
'What if you can't help it?' she persisted. 'You know your shoulder's still weak. What if your arm gives way?'
'It won't give way.' Some of his impatient humour died and she regretted reminding him of his weakness. It had been fear finding an outlet but, from his brooding expression, he thought she had done it deliberately. 'Are you going to jump? Because if you're not, you can damned well stay there.'
'You wouldn't leave me!' Fran exclaimed accusingly, looking behind her and remembering all the encouragement she had required to get this far.
'Wouldn't I?' he smiled grimly. 'A no-good layabout like me? If you fell, there'd be no one standing between me and the cabin, would there?'
'Oh, don't be ridiculous,' she snapped, fingers digging into rock as she looked nervously down. Neither of them had mentioned their dispute for days and he had to bring it up now!
'My, my, Princess, we have progressed. At one time you intimated that I had murdered your grandfather for his property. Have you changed your mind?'
'I... I was angry, I didn't mean it,' she said sulkily, adding, with immense reluctance, 'I'm sorry. Now can we go back?'
'A handsome apology,' he said softly and her flush deepened.
'I am sorry... I... you make me so angry sometimes I forget myself...'
'Or, sometimes remember... mmm?' he said with unnerving accuracy. His voice became coaxing instead of challenging. 'I would never have brought you round this way if I really thought you couldn't do it, Fran.'
She wavered, knowing she was being silly, but unable to make the move. How did he know what she could or couldn't manage, when she wasn't sure herself? 'I'm going back,' she decided firmly.
'You can't. The tide will have covered all those convenient stepping-stones we hopped across on our way around the point. You have to come this way, you haven't got any choice.'
'You didn't tell me this was a one-way trip!' Fran screeched at him. 'How do we get back? Swim?'
'A little further round there's a reserve that comes right down to sea-level. It's a gentle stroll up the hill and across the fields to home from there.' He was unmoved by her spluttering fury. 'I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't come if there wasn't a comfortable option for you. Now, are you going to jump or do I go on without you?'
'You wouldn't dare!' The unwise words were out before she could stop them. There was an infinitesimal silence, then he smiled, a predatory-shark smile.
Fran stared furiously at the place where he had been. She waited apprehensively for him to reappear around the corner after he had considered he had taught her a lesson. He did not return.
Apprehension turned to fear, then to anger. If she fell and broke her neck it would be entirely his fault! How dared he take risks with her life the way he did with his own?
Anger is a great motivator. When Fran jumped it was with a full head of boiling steam. Clutching frantically on to the rock face as her feet steadied on the ledge Fran felt a furious sense of triumph. When she looked back, she was chastened to discover that during her leap the chasm had shrunk... it wasn't that wide or high. Achievement had reduced what fear had magnified. Still, he had no right to make her do it!
She was even more annoyed when she edged around the corner and discovered that Ross wasn't smugly waiting there, just out of sight, ready to fly to her resuce if need be. He really had gone on! Breathing heavily, she struggled on around the rocky spur for what seemed like an age.
She came upon Ross eventually, sunning himself like a seal on a flat rock in a sandy inlet riddled with caves. He had stripped off his shirt and draped it over his face, his jean-clad legs stretched out so that the grubby sneakers hung over the edge of the rock, the soles lapped by the tide. At shore level the wind was no more than a gentle breeze, and Fran could feel the sweat trickling down the neck of her wool sweater.
