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But somehow he managed it, kissing her hair, but lightly, as one would have comforted a distressed child. He stood, holding her as she leaned against him. Warmth flowed between them. It was as if she was admitting finally that she needed help; she needed him.

But with that thought came an answering one. He needed her.

Lily.

He couldn’t pull her tighter into him. He mustn’t. What was happening here was too precious to be destroyed by stupid impulses, no matter how strong those impulses might be.

‘Let’s go,’ he said gently, and somehow he put her away from him and smiled gently down into her strained-to-exhaustion face. ‘Let’s go and find our son.’

‘Of course,’ she said dully. ‘If we can.’

‘We will,’ he said. ‘We’ll do this together. We’re together until we find him.’

‘Ben…’

He pulled her against him once more, but gently, as one would have comforted a friend. She was his friend. She was the mother of his child. He hugged her and then he linked his hand in hers and led her forward.

‘You’re not alone, Lily,’ he told her. ‘I’ll be here for you for however long it takes.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THE days wore on, and the nights. Each night Ben lay in the dark and listened to the soft breathing of the woman in his arms. Imperceptibly his world changed.

Lily needed him, in a way he’d never been needed in his life.

This crisis didn’t stop medical imperatives occurring elsewhere, and Lily had refused to stop working as the island’s doctor. Ben and his team tried to take as much of the load from her as they could but the islanders made no secret of the fact that they trusted only Dr Lily.

‘Just refuse to go,’ Ben told her.

‘I’ll go crazy with nothing to do,’ she’d say. ‘Besides, there’s a girl in labour on an outer island.’ Or… ‘There’s an old man in severe pain. This is my normal workload, Ben. The islanders trust me but no one else. You’re an outsider.’

He was an outsider, but he wasn’t an outsider to Lily. He was father to an island child. A child he’d never met. The situation was surreal.

How Lily could work…

She could work only because she had him. He knew that by now, and so did everyone on the island. At the end of a long day she’d drag herself back to her bungalow behind the hospital and he’d make sure he was there waiting for her. She’d fall into his arms, exhausted with the fears and the frustrations and the pain of a day filled with medical need. He’d hug her close but carefully, rigidly-he’d take it no further. He mustn’t. She’d run and she mustn’t run. So he’d hold her and he’d tell her what, if anything, had changed in the hostage situation. Sometimes she’d cry and if she did he’d let her cry her fill. Then he’d cradle her to sleep as he’d cradled her tonight.

Seven years ago he’d lain with Lily as a man lay with the woman he loves. Their loving then had been exciting and fun and happy.

This time there was no love-making-or love-making in the sexual sense. She had no energy left for sex, and his desire for her had changed. He wanted her to sleep. He wanted her to drift into an unconsciousness where she didn’t have to be terrified for her son.

This was a different sort of love-making, he thought. The girl he’d loved was gone. What was left was the mother of his son.

He loved her?

No, he told himself. In truth he didn’t really understand it himself. He only knew that if the choice was an exciting return to the love-making of old or achieving a measure of peace for the woman he held in his arms, the choice was a no-brainer.

He hardly slept himself. That was no problem-he’d learned to exist on catnaps. He could survive. But the nights stretched on and he held on. He held his woman and his world…changed.

‘I shouldn’t be letting you do this,’ Lily whispered to him in the dark. ‘It’s not fair.’

‘I need this, too,’ he told her. ‘It’s our son, Lily. Let’s do this together.’

The end, when it came, was swift and deadly.

It was three in the morning. Lily was sleeping fitfully, nestled against him, her breasts moulded to his chest with only the flimsy fabric of her sleepwear between them. He’d been cradling her in his arms, murmuring softly to her at need, reassuring her when she’d wake at every unexpected noise.

And then he heard it. A low murmur at first, then building until it was a cacophony of sound heading towards them.

Helicopters. Big ones. He was out of bed, hauling on his pants and groping for his boots as Lily jerked into terrified wakefulness.

‘What is it?’

‘Choppers,’ he said, his fingers clumsy in his haste. ‘Not ours. Hell. We knew they had to have outside help. Lily, stay here.’

‘In your dreams. Benjy-’

‘I’ll take care of him,’ he said, and set his hands on her shoulders and propelled her back on the pillows. ‘I swear I’ll take care of him. Lily, please. Stay here.’

‘I can’t.’

‘If you won’t stay, I can’t go,’ he said. The helicopters were almost overhead and he knew what they’d be aiming for. But did they come with death to the islanders in mind? Surely not. ‘Lily, promise me. Stay here until I bring Benjy to you.’

‘I-’

‘You must.’ He had to go. There was no time to wait for promises. He kissed her, hard and fast and strong, taking strength from her as well as giving it. He grabbed the torch he’d left at the door, and he was gone.

Ben ran toward the compound. There were four helicopters-no, five-hovering overhead.

The moon was a mere sliver, its rays hardly reaching through the clouds. It had been steamy all day, and tonight it had rained. Maybe that’s why they’d come tonight, he thought as he ran, keeping to the cover of the trees.

Why were they there?

And then the clouds parted for a moment and he topped a slight rise and saw.

The compound backed onto the beach. Despite the dim light, Ben could suddenly see the whole picture. While four choppers hovered, one helicopter was behind, protected, and it was landing on the beach.

Ben stood stock still. His job was to stay in the background and wait for casualties, assessing medical need, so he had to stay back now. Troops were running past, keeping to the shadows.

But the hostages…

A message rang out loudly. The sound system had been set up initially as a tsunami warning-a long, low siren-but technicians had tweaked it a couple of days ago, making it capable of transmitting voices, so in an emergency all could be warned of anything at all.

Now the warning was urgent. ‘Take cover,’ a voice boomed and Ben recognised their bass-voiced drill sergeant. ‘Don’t take aggressive action. I repeat, take cover.’

‘Thank you,’ Ben breathed, as he forced himself to wait some more. His team was good.

He realised now that the choppers were simply providing cover for an escape bid, giving the fifth chopper time to land and assist those leaving the compound.

He’d pulled further back into the shadows of the palms. The choppers had floodlights and they were searching the shadows.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he came as near to yelping as a grown man could.

‘Ben.’

Lily! He grasped and held her. ‘How the hell…? I told you to stay back.’ She was dressed in windcheater and jeans-she must have moved as fast as he had.

‘I can’t.’

He tugged her back into the shadows, hauling her tight against him. ‘How did you know where I was?’

‘I followed you,’ she whispered. But she wasn’t concentrating on him. She was staring skyward, appalled. ‘What’s happening?’

‘There’s a chopper landing on the beach. The others are covering it. Whoever’s in the compound will be going out the back way.’ He grimaced and hauled her tighter.