'I hate gambling,' Lissa burst out. 'Chris, can't you close the casino? Go back to running a hotel and nothing else?'
Chris looked away, his mouth tight. 'No, The casino makes far too much money.'
'But, Chris____________________' she began, and he looked at her smilingly, his hand encompassing her waist and his fingers lightly resting on her midriff.
'Don't get excited, there's a good girl. The casino attracts most of our guests. If we closed down, someone else would open up and we would lose money hand over fist.'
She sighed. 'Well, promise not to play with Luc Ferrier again.'
'What do I get for being a good boy?' he asked coaxingly, smiling at her.
Lissa lifted her face and Chris's arms closed round her, pulling her towards him. His mouth closed hotly over her own and Lissa felt a curious little shiver of alarm. She often had it when Chris kissed her with that aroused heat. Something inside her backed away nervously from the passion he displayed when he held her.
'Liss, baby,' he groaned as he felt her faint withdrawal. 'You make my head spin. Kiss me properly, honey.'
There was a quick knock on the door. Chris's secretary, Rebecca, came into the room and Chris lifted his head to give her a sharp, angry look.
'Wait until I tell you to come in,' he rapped out.
Rebecca's face showed no reaction. She was a girl with a low, cool voice and an elegant, contained manner. She had worked for Chris for some years, running the office efficiently. When Chris teased Rebecca he got short shrift. She would look at him levelly and not smile, her face blank. Chris relied on her heavily, but Lissa sometimes got the impression that Rebecca was the one who ran the hotel, not Chris.
Sliding off Chris's lap, she walked to the door, giving Rebecca a quick smile. 'Sorry to break into the day's work.'
'There's a lot to do,' replied Rebecca. She always managed to make Lissa feel an intruder into the offices.
She wasn't actually unfriendly, but she wasn't forthcoming either. She was neutral, a passive observer who yet gave the impression of doing more than merely observe.
'See you later, Chris,' said Lissa as she left, 'I can't wait,' darling,' he said with a warm huskiness in his voice.
Lissa went off to rehearse with Pierre and the band for an hour or two and then went into town with a shopping list to fill. Joseph's wife Marie was the head housekeeper at the hotel. She and Joseph had a cabin in the grounds and a two-year-old baby called Lucien who spent his days with his grandmother down in Ville-Royale and only came up to join his parents at bedtime each day. Marie ran the housekeeping on a cheerful but efficient basis. Each of the girls had one floor in charge and Marie kept a stern eye on their activities.
Lissa came back in a taxi with her purchases and Marie smilingly thanked her. Lissa had done some shopping of her own. She unpacked her purchases in her own room and put them away tidily. She had had lunch at the tiny seafood restaurant on the quayside. It had been crowded with tourists who loved the lazy atmosphere of the old harbour.
The heat was now oppressive. She folded back the stiff honeycomb weave cover and lay down on the bed for an hour. She felt sleepy and weary, but as soon as her eyes closed she knew she wouldn't sleep. She was too busy worrying about Chris and Luc Ferrier. Would Chris keep his word? Normally he kept his promises to her, but where gambling was concerned Chris was unreliable.
It was her basic reason for not marrying him yet. She did not feel she could quite trust him. A man who has an addiction can't be trusted. He is an unstable element, dangerous, volatile, and has to be handled with care. Lissa knew that. She had watched Chris for years and she knew he was flawed right down the middle. The charm and warmth and kindness she loved could not hide from her the weak streak in him.
That evening she and Chris strolled down through the gardens in the twilight which within a few moments would become night. The sun went down with a rush as though swallowed by the sea, dragged by a hook into the jaws of a giant fish, the natives said. Each morning the fish spat it out and it shot into the sky in burning splendour to burn there for hour after hour unchanging until abruptly it was pulled back into the fish again.
The air was as warm as if the sun still hung above them. The sky was darkening to a soft purple. The sound of the surf came through the palms and the night was scented by honeysuckle whose perfumed sweetness filled the nostrils and almost made one suffocate. It grew in great profusion, the long stamens like yellow tongues, and orchids massed below it, natives to the island and growing wild in the shadowy creeper-draped forest, their thick gaudy flesh distasteful to Lissa.
On the edge of the palm-fringed beach Chris paused, his arm round her back, and looked across the dark ocean. 'Peaceful, isn't it?'
'Yes,' she said, leaning her head on his shoulder and wishing she felt peaceful but knowing she didn't.
Chris turned her to face him, his hands on her shoulders. She looked up and his face looked different in the smoky light. An alien excitement made his eyes glitter and his mouth taut.
'Liss,' he muttered, bending his head.
His mouth closed over hers and his arms held her tightly. She felt his hands begin to move up and down her back. He kissed her in a way he had never kissed her before, harder, more determined. His hands were gripping and clutching her and Lissa was torn between yielding and struggling.
A sound disturbed Chris's absorbed concentration on her. He slowly lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder into the shadows behind them. Lissa looked that way too, but saw nothing. The darkness hid whatever moved in it.
'Marry me now, Liss,’ Chris muttered, turning back to her in a fierce movement. 'For your own sake, baby, because my patience is wearing thin, and if we don't get married soon I'm going to do something we'll both regret. I'm not superhuman and I can't take much more of this.'
She leaned her head on his chest, her arms going round him. 'Yes,' she whispered unsteadily, although her head was choked with doubts. Chris wasn't a safe bet for anyone, but she loved him, and what was she to do? Unstable, addicted though he might be, he was still Chris and she had loved him all her life. She was going to have to take him as she found him. Chris had always been loving and kind to her. She was well aware that many men who were in love with a girl wouldn't be prepared to wait month after month as Chris had done. It hadn't been through any lack of passion that he had waited. At times she found it very impressive that he should be ready to wait when she could feel the impatient desire mounting inside him.
Now his hands held her tightly, he breathed into her hair, his heart racing violently. 'Liss darling, I want you so badly it's tearing me apart.'
She heard again a faint rustling behind them. Wakeful birds? she thought. Or one of the hotel cats on the prowl?
Chris was running his hands clown her back and he was trembling. 'My God, you turn me on hard, Liss!'
She felt a fierce colour run into her face at the voice, the look in his eyes. Chris frightened her when he looked at her like that. She half backed, biting her lip.
He stared at her, his mouth a tight line. 'Okay, I'm not going to press you tonight,' he said thickly? 'But for the love of God, grow up. I've used kid gloves with you for months. You say you love me, but you keep putting things off. I'm not asking for the moon, am I? I want to marry you, not just take you to bed.' His face softened from the harsh lines, 'Liss, I love you, darling. Trust me. Let's get married soon.'