He bit back a furious retort.
«Would you mind letting go of me now, please?» she asked grimly.
He released her, slouching back in his own chair. «The money would make an incredible difference,» he said, refusing to give up. «We could buy some more tractors, clean out the rest of the groves, restore the coffee bushes, hire some labourers to prune the trees. Then there's the house to fix up properly.»
«That's the short cut, Eason, the easy option. You want to be a manager, the grand plantation owner living in his mansion while others bring in the crop. That's not the way to do it, not here. Life is about cycles; you can't fight what nature has ordained. And now we've come round to the time when Charmaine is passed on to Althaea just as it was passed to me all those years ago. I haven't done very well with it, but Althaea and her husband will. They'll rebuild Charmaine slowly. Every day there will be some new accomplishment for them to rejoice about. Their whole life is going to be rich with genuine satisfaction, not this cheaply bought gratitude you offer.»
«Then I'll give the bloody money away. She can have me just the way I was when we met, a destitute drifter.»
Tiarella's mask of indifference cracked for the very first time. She gave him a tired smile, compassion lurking in flecked emerald irises. «I never expected you to fall in love with her. I really didn't.»
«I . . .» He clenched his fists. Admitting that to her would be a defeat in this war, he knew.
«The money won't make any difference to Althaea's answer or mine,» she said weakly. «Believe me, I'm being kind to you. Just go, Eason. If you truly love her. Go now. You'll be hurt by her if you don't.»
«Is that a threat?»
«No. Listen to me, I had a lover before I met Vanstone. He was a good man, he adored me passionately, and I did him. But then Vanstone arrived, and I dropped him. Just like that. I never thought about how he felt. Girls that age can be unknowingly cruel. I don't want that to happen to you.»
«Althaea's not like you. She has a heart.»
Tiarella laughed. «And you believe I don't? I suppose I can't blame you for thinking that. I am a bitch these days, I admit. But I used to, Eason, I used to have a heart just like hers.»
«I don't get it. I really don't. You brought me here, you and that monstrosity snake helped me snuff the bounty hunters. You screwed with me. You stand by and let me screw your daughter. Now you tell me you don't want me here. Why ?»
«Your time is over.»
«Don't give me that card shit again. You realize she's probably pregnant by now. I didn't exactly hold back.»
«Don't get excited, she's not pregnant. I made quite sure she was using a contraceptive.»
He stared at her, shocked. «You . . .»
«Bitch? I'm her mother, Eason.»
«Jesus Christ.»
«You're welcome to stay here as long as you like, although I expect you won't want to. But you must understand, neither Althaea nor Charmaine is ever going to belong to you.»
«We'll see.» He was so furious he didn't trust himself to say anything else to her.
Althaea was in the kitchen, preparing their lunch. She looked up when he came in and gave him a happy smile. He kissed her, and took her hand. «Come along.»
She skipped after him as he went out into the hall. Tiarella was standing in the study's doorway, watching. Althaea automatically stiffened, glancing sheepishly at her mother.
«Althaea and I are going upstairs,» Eason said levelly. «That cot in my chalet is too small for the kind of sex I prefer. So from now on we'll be using the bed in her room. OK?»
Althaea drew a loud, astonished breath.
Tiarella shrugged indifferently. «Whatever.»
Eason grinned victoriously, and tugged a confounded Althaea up the stairs.
«Oh God, she'll kill me,» Althaea wailed as soon as the door shut behind them. «She'll kill both of us.»
«No, she won't.» He imprisoned her head between his palms, putting his face centimetres from hers. «She must learn to accept that you're a grown woman now, and that you and I are in love. We have a perfect right to be together in your bed. I did this for you. Everything I do is for you now.»
«You love me?» She sounded even more frightened than before.
«Yes. Now you and I are going to take the rest of the afternoon and evening off, and spend it in here. If your mother doesn't like that, then she should seriously start to think about leaving the island.»
Eason had never been in Althaea's bedroom before. When he woke up the next morning he looked round blearily. Wan white walls were hung with holographic posters, one of which gave the bed a panoramic view over rugged snowcapped mountains and a magical Bavarian castle. He turned over. Althaea was missing. Her ageing Animate Animal bear was on the floor along with the white silk negligée. Last night she hadn't quite dropped her reserve completely, but he was definitely making progress. And the seeds of rebellion against her witch mother had been firmly planted. Another pleasurable day at Charmaine.
He pulled on his jeans and went down to the kitchen. Althaea wasn't there either, which was unusual. She normally made breakfast for everyone.
He started opening cupboards, then he heard her screaming for help. Tiarella was already charging down the stairs as he rushed out of the back door. It sounded as though she was down at the jetty. He pounded along the path, wishing to Christ that the fluxpump wasn't back at his chalet. If that damn snake had run amok . . .
When Eason burst out of the trees, the scene he found was nothing like what he expected. Althaea was lying on the grass right on top of the coral wall, stretching out desperately. There was a wooden dinghy in the water, being tossed about by the current. It smacked into the coral wall with a nasty crunch. Althaea tried to grab the arm of the single occupant, but the dinghy twisted and surged backwards.
Eason ran forwards and threw himself down beside her. The dinghy had been holed on the vicious coral teeth surrounding the wall, and was sinking fast. Another swell rose, pitching it forward again. His synaptic web came on-line, calculating the approach vector and projecting the impact point. He shifted round fractionally, stretching out—
A wrist slapped into his waiting palm. He grabbed tight and pulled. The dinghy was dragged back, sharp spears of coral punching through the hull as it sank below the foam. Tiarella landed on the grass beside him with a hefty thump, reaching out to grasp the shoulder of the lad Eason was holding. Together, the three of them hauled him up over the top of the wall.
Eason blinked in surprise. It was Mullen.
«You idiot!» Tiarella yelled. «You could have been killed.» She flung her arms round the dazed lad. «Dear God, you could have been killed.»
«I'm sorry,» Mullen stammered. He was shaking badly. There was blood oozing from his palms.
Tiarella let go, as self-conscious as Althaea had ever been, then sniffed and wiped away what Eason swore were tears. «Yes. Well, OK. It's a tricky approach, you'll have to learn about the currents round the island.»
«Yes, miss,» Mullen said meekly.
Eason took one of the lad's hands and turned it over. The skin on the palm had been rubbed raw. «What happened?»
«It was the rowing. I'm not used to it.»
«Rowing? You mean you rowed here from Oliviera?»
«Yes.»
Eason's immediate response died in his throat. He glanced at Althaea who was looking at Mullen with an expression of surprise and wonder.
«Why?» she asked timidly. «Why did you come?»