Beside him Sara's lips were clamped together tightly. "Why don't you get something to eat, Lucy? Better still, I'll take you down to the barbecue myself and see what our chef Rob has rustled up. Although I think I have an idea."

Lucy could feel her face heating up. "Please, it's fine. I wouldn't want to drag you away from your guests."

"No, really. Rob will be terribly disappointed if you don't try it now. Josh went into Porthstow specially to fetch the main ingredient for you."

"Not specially, Sara. I happened to be going into town and I was passing the quay," he said firmly.

"Now, Josh, don't tell fibs. You know you needn't have gone into the village today."

His eyes glinting dangerously, Josh had his mouth open when a man in little yellow wellies and a smock pushed his way over.

"Josh, there's a bit of a fracas going on in the dinghy pen. Can you come and sort it out?"

Fiona's eyes lit up. "Oh! A fight. How exciting. Can I come and watch?"

"No," said Josh brusquely. "You girls stay out of it. I'll be back in a minute."

Handing his drink to Sara, he stalked off toward the bar. Sara let out a sigh of admiration that made Lucy want to barf. "It's so useful having Josh around to sort out these incidents."

"A bit like a bouncer?" said Lucy.

"Or a pit bull?" put in Fiona.

"You really are very amusing," Sara said, smiling. "Now, Lucy, come with me and let's get some food for you and Fiona."

She pulled Lucy by the arm toward the steps to the beach. "Oh, I don't know what to do with Josh sometimes. He'd put himself out for anyone on the slightest whim," she said as they walked down the steps from the terrace onto the sand.

"I didn't ask him to put himself out for me, Sara," said Lucy firmly.

"Of course not, but he's so nice, even a hint is enough to have him at your beck and call. You see," she added as Lucy almost stumbled on a large clump of seaweed, "he's such an open, straightforward kind of guy, people get the wrong idea, particularly women, but they know nothing."

"I can't imagine anyone taking advantage of Josh if he didn't want them to," declared Lucy, her hackles rising.

"Really? Oh, you'd be surprised how many try. The thing is Josh Standring has left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. Misguided women who thought he cared about them in a"-she bracketed her fingers to make her point-"'special' way when really he was just being Josh."

"But you're not in any danger of a broken heart?" Lucy couldn't resist saying as they reached the queue for the barbecue.

Sara gave her a look of total incredulity. "Why would I be in danger? Oh, Lucy, you don't get it, do you? Josh and I... well, I think you can see that we're just so right for each other."

Lucy was feeling slightly nauseous and put it down to the smell of burning burgers.

Sara bypassed the people in the queue and called to the chef, a red-faced man of about forty who was piling burgers and sausages onto plates. "Ah, Rob! What a star you are! Have you got those grilled scallops ready for Lucy yet?"

Rob wiped a hand over a sweaty forehead and scowled. He produced a plastic plate from under the barbecue and thrust it at Lucy. "So you're the one who wanted the scallops, are you? Well, they're a bugger to get right and I'm sorry, but I've overcooked them just a tad."

Dying with embarrassment, Lucy took the plate which contained three blackened scallops on a sad-looking piece of lettuce. "Thanks, Rob. I really appreciate the trouble you've gone to."

He nodded, then stabbed viciously at a ring of charred sausage. Everyone else in the queue was craning their necks to get a look at her. Faces were distinctly pissed off and she didn't blame them, yet Sara appeared to be overcome by delight. "See how we try and make you feel at home, Lucy?"

Chapter 19.

Much later, as the punch bowl was down to the dregs again and Rob the chef had cremated his last burger, Lucy found herself in the clubhouse, her head spinning. It was almost dark; meshes sprinkled with fairy lights were twinkling from every nook and cranny of the building. The Latin beat had changed to a bizarre version of Scottish reeling. Lucy had been twirled by Gideon, a South African property magnate, and an ocean-going catamaran crew. The room was whizzing round long after she'd actually stopped moving.

Fiona was still being whirled by a rugged young guy wearing a red-spotted bandana, a designer kilt, and no shirt. The music stopped, Mr. Hot-in-a-Kilt disappeared toward the bar, and Fiona lurched over to Lucy, grinning fit to burst.

"You look like you're having fun," said Lucy, holding on to a chair for support.

"I've been pole dancing and it's wonderful!"

"He's cute," whispered Lucy. "And very young."

"Twenty-one yesterday. I've offered to help him celebrate in style," she said, lowering her voice. "Piotrek knows a quiet place in the dunes."

"He's gorgeous, Fi, but have you checked his IQ?"

"Hmm, that's the trouble. He's a medical student but never mind. I'm in Cornwall so I can make an exception."

"Cze's'c skarbie," growled Piotrek, handing over another glass of Three Sheets with a wicked grin. Fiona was visibly melting.

"'Scuse me. I need the loo," said Lucy, not wanting to be a third wheel. She hadn't even made it to the door before Gideon lurched over.

"I've been watching you all night," he declared.

"Really? Are you seeing two of me yet?"

He roared with laughter, blasting her with the smell of cigars and whiskey. "By God, I love a feisty female!"

"You'll have to excuse me, Gideon. I have to go to the little girls' room."

"Not right now, surely?" He leaned closer and she almost passed out with the fumes. "You know, Lucy, I don't say this to all the girls, but as soon as I met you I felt as if I'd known you for years. Spooky, eh?"

Her heart beat a little faster. "Very."

"It must be that de-jay, dee-ja vue whatsit."

"Dej-vu?"

"That's it." Hic. "Definitely seen you somewhere before."

Lucy edged toward the staircase down to the ground floor, keeping her voice light. "You met me on the beach after you'd been sailing that day. Remember?"

"Oh, no! No, it's more, much more than that. I feel a connection with you. Ever since I saw you, it's been bugging me like a thorn up my arse."

"I guess I just have one of those faces."

"That launched a thousand ships! Haw!" He squinted hard at her and then looked down. "And the view looks bloody good from here."

His pint glass wobbled, sending Guinness sloshing down her cleavage. He reached out a hand to wipe her clean and she smacked him away.

"Gideon," said Lucy sweetly, trying to close her nostrils, "I can assure you we've never met before last week and I'm afraid that if you don't take your nose out of my tits, I'm going to have to slap you very hard."

Pulling back an inch, he tried to focus on her face, his eyes crossing. Then to her horror he winked and gave a little growl, almost Hengist-like but not half so appealing.

"Slap me very hard? Why, Lucy, I didn't know you were that kind of girl but ding-dong, your place or mine?"

"Gideon, will you just bugger off!"

"Even better. Haw."

"You know, I'm going to get some fresh air," she said, lifting her chin. "There's a nasty smell in here."

She headed down the steps, her wedges clumping on the wooden treads. She half ran, half stumbled down the slipway and onto the sand, then stopped, gulping in breaths of air, her heart pounding like surf. She wasn't sure which had spooked her more, Gideon's lecherousness or the fact that, even though he was completely out of his tree, he'd thought he recognized her. Had recognized her, in fact. Bugger...

On the beach, a half-naked couple was snogging in a catamaran and the smell of weed drifted into her nose from the dinghy pen. Lucy made for the white frill of surf breaking ahead of her. Just where the powdery sand turned damp, at the outer limit of the lights of the clubhouse, she sat down. Unlacing her wedges, she stretched out her legs, reveling in the feel of cool, damp sand between her toes.

"Hey."

"Oh. You," she said as Josh sat down beside her.

"Pleased to meet you too."

"Sorry, I just needed some fresh air. There was a bad smell inside."

"I know. I saw you with Gideon."

"You saw?" So he'd watched and done nothing.

"Yeah, but you seemed to be handling it fine. I guessed you wouldn't have thanked me if I'd stepped in."

"I can fight my own battles," she said perversely.

"I'm sure you can."

Josh spread his legs wide. His Levis were so soft and worn that the knees had split, exposing slivers of golden skin.

"Where's Sara?" asked Lucy, mentally trying to pour cold water on herself.

"I'm not sure where she is but, at a guess, I'd say schmoozing some financier bloke from Truro. He wants to invest some money in the club."

"And you don't approve?"

"I want what's best for the club but it's Sara's call. I only have a part share in the place and if Sara wants to deal with it, it's fine by me."

She nodded vigorously. "I agree. All that finance and negotiating must be terribly boring."

He allowed himself a smile. "Sorry, but I don't buy that. You're taking the piss out of me, aren't you?"

"No."

"Lucy, don't bullshit me. I know when I'm being taken for a ride."

Her pulse quickened. She really didn't want to lie to Josh. In fact, she had a horrible compulsion to tell him the whole truth right now, get the whole charade over with. And she wanted him to know her name-her real name, her real reason for being here, but she felt way too stupid to tell him. Either that or she was enjoying the attention too much to spoil it.

"I might know a thing or two about business but, right now, funnily enough, none of it seems relevant." Not bad, she thought proudly, not bad at all.

"Why not?"

"Who cares about profit and loss, bears and bonds, and um... bulls when they've got all this." Bulls? Bonds? Surely he'd know she was talking twaddle, thought Lucy, but Josh seemed to be busy squiggling in the sand between his legs. "At the end of the day you don't really need that much."

"Nope. Not much at all. I've got a place to live, the sailing, friends, the cottages. That's enough for me. I've got all I need, more than I need, in fact."

"And Sara?"

"Yes, and Sara." Then he turned his eyes on her and smiled. "And Tally of course."

Lucy laughed. "Now you're taking the piss out of me."

"No."

"My incisive business brain tells me you are, in fact, winding me up."

"If your incisive business brain tells you, then it must be right. When are you planning on going back to London?"

"Oh, I'm not sure..." She stopped. "Actually, that's not quite true. I'm supposed to be back in the office next Monday. They gave me a month. My time is up on Friday."

"Right."

Lucy swallowed, waiting for more. Then cursed herself. What was it to Josh if she stayed or went?

"Are you ready to go back to your job in London? Are you... er, sure you're well enough?"

She squirmed with guilt. What had at first seemed a harmless lie was now developing into a very big one. Almost without realizing it, she had woven a tangled web of deceit that was going to be very difficult to unravel.

"Yes. I'm well enough," she said.

"But not ready?" replied Josh, twisting the beer bottle from the sand and bringing it to his lips.

Lucy thought about her answer, but not for more than a second or two, and when it came, it was as honest as anything she'd ever said. "I don't know. But who can say they're ever ready for anything? I can only do my best and if it's the wrong choice, then I'll have to live with it. I have to go back to my old life sometime. I can't stay here forever."

He lowered the bottle and rested it casually against his inner thigh. The wear on his jeans was visible here too, and between his legs, around the seam that stretched taut over the patently obvious bulge.