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He spoke little English, but Pallas translated for him,
while also acting as chaperone.
Kate spent the afternoon on the stone patio, with
Sam and Pallas, lying on well-sprung canvas loungers
enjoying the sunshine.
The storm seemed to have blown quite away, leaving
the island calm and peaceful. Out of the wind the air
was warm and still. The sun seemed almost hot on her
bare back and legs.
She wore her new bikini, two delicate scraps of black
cotton which emphasised her slender waist. Sam rubbed
sun lotion into her skin, offering to perform the same
task for Pallas.
“My complexion is intended for this climate,” she
claimed triumphantly. “The sun is kind to me. I never
use those things.”
Kate was very tired this afternoon. Her experiences
of yesterday had left her weary, and she drifted into
sleep as she lay on the lounger. She did not hear Sam
and Pallas get up and go off to play tennis, and they,
considering her, decided it would be kinder to leave her.
She slept on for several hours, her skin beginning to
redden as the sun poured down upon it, then woke with
a stifled cry of pain as a hand touched her red shoulder.
Marc was crouching beside her, his face set grimly.
“Now look at you!” he said furiously. “You have given
yourself sunburn! I can’t take my eyes off you for five
&
nbsp; seconds without you getting into some scrape or other!”
She turned and sat upright, wincing at the agony of
