Arctic Enemy Part 8

'Trust me,' he whispered, cradling and stroking her. 'I want this to be so good for you, better than it ever was with Tony. You're going to forget him, Sarah.'

It was like a fist in her stomach. She felt choked with the nausea that rose in her. The heat that had flushed her skin seconds before was replaced by a chill that left her clammy and s.h.i.+vering. Wounded, yet outraged, she tried to scramble out of his embrace.

'Better than what with Tony!' she demanded in a strangled voice. 'You think I sleep with him, don't you!'

Startled by the intensity of her reaction, Guy pulled back from her. 'Don't try to tell me,' he scoffed, 'that you're going to plead innocence:- not after the display of expertise I've just witnessed! I've seen the two of you together. I heard you accept his invitation to stay with him in England. In fact, you made very sure we all heard you, didn't you?'

'No!' she pleaded. 'It's not that way at all-you don't understand!'

'Oh, come on, Sarah!' he taunted. 'Everyone knows what an aphrodisiac wealth and power is. Why should you be any more immune to it than other women?'

The brutal cutting off of pleasure was a physical pain. And so was the understanding that her first true response to sensuality, given so lovingly and unashamedly, had been perceived as the soulless performance of a seasoned professional. What she had offered him so ingenuously was being tossed back at her with an experienced man's scorn and disrespect.

At least the darkness hid her tears from him. 'I loathe you,' she said. 'I think I've hated you and your insufferable ego since I first saw you!'

'Maybe you do,' he jeered. 'But that didn't stop me from exciting you.'

'You don't excite me!' she shot back, knowing even as she spoke how ridiculous her protest must have sounded. Fluttering in his arms like a bird snared in a net, she pushed him away and huddled miserably as far from him as the narrow confines of the sleeping bag would allow.

The Arctic sun rose clear and bright, igniting a billion sparks in the unsullied snow that blanketed the land. Crawling on hands and knees from the mouth of the tunnel, Sarah blinked in pain at the brilliance of the morning.

She stood still for a very long time, staring at the glory of the untouched snow, and marvelled that they had survived the night. At least, physic-ally, they had come through. But in no other way had she and Guy survived, she knew with a bitter, aching heart. Whatever relations.h.i.+p they had once struggled to maintain was now shattered, completely and for ever. The radiance of the dawn held only mockery for her.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

'Terrified!' p.r.o.nounced Katie. 'I'd be quaking in my boots. But having a man like Captain Court to look after you must have been a comfort.'

'Uh-huh...' murmured Sarah noncommittally.

'I'll bet he took right over,' Katie breezed on. 'And what about the hunters at the camp? You haven't told us anything-'

'Look!' cried Sarah, relief flooding her voice. 'Here's Mr Dunn. Perhaps he can tell us what's happening.'

Ever since the two young women had met in the lounge that afternoon, Katie had been trying to extract information from Sarah about the three-hour excursion that had turned into an overnight drama. Sarah had dodged and weaved as best she could, but she was fast running out of stories about the joys of spotting a snow goose or a seal sunning itself.

'This is a far cry from the water we came in through, Mr Dunn,' she said, raising binoculars to her eyes and sweeping the vast ice field.

'Yes, indeed,' agreed Angus, wiping greasy hands on well-used coveralls. 'That delay at Melville put us square into winter and no mistake about it! We're breaking ice up to five feet in places.'

Sarah listened with relief to the chatter about the heavy weather that had dogged them since they left the island. She wanted desperately to distract herself from memories of Guy's abortive and humiliating lovemaking. Yet just a single flash of remembrance of his touch on her skin held the power to enflame her. With an exercise of will that stretched taut the sinews of her neck, she dragged her attention back to her companions'.

'But the ice-that's no problem, is it?' she asked with forced interest.

'Oh, no,' the First Engineer replied, smiling. 'We're built for worse than this!'

Their first day out, the bands of ice on either side of the strait had thickened rapidly, narrowing the water lane until at last the Enterprise had struck solid resistance. Low, dense ice fog had begun to plague them. The cold was never less than cruel for any of the crew unlucky enough to draw outside duty under the coa.r.s.e woollen clouds.

And there was also the new, silent presence on the Enterprise that affected the crew's spirits far more than the weather: the millions of gallons of super-cold liquid gas that now lay beneath them. But at least those nerve-jangling, unpredictable alarm bells signalling another of Guy's drills were silent for this leg of the journey. Still, he remained a constant observer, forever moving, monitoring, observing every procedure. Tony, in contrast, was surprisingly relaxed now that the snag at the pumping station was behind them. He was looking forward with relish to a triumphant arrival in Nova Scotia, with welcoming ceremonies and television coverage.

Sarah wished she could share Tony's elation, but her thoughts kept returning to their volatile cargo and the battering it was receiving. Time after time, the Enterprise's bow drove up on to the ice pack. There was a pause, then the ice fractured and gave way under the tremendous weight of the steel-banded hull. Released, the s.h.i.+p fell seaward, having carved a little more of its tortuous path.

By late afternoon when Sarah reached Tony's suite for a pre-dinner drink, the constant heaving of the decks had begun to affect her stomach.

'I think,' she told him as he greeted her, 'that I'd better sit down... quickly!'

Tony smiled down on her sympathetically. 'We'll be clearing the ice any time now. Just hold on a little longer.'

'I'll try,' she replied, laying a hand gingerly on her stomach. 'But I don't know if I can handle that drink, Tony.'

'Nonsense. It'll relax you. You've been tense ever since you returned from that ill-advised excursion with my adventuresome cousin. Really, Sarah, every time I think about that I get so angry I could-'

'Tony, please. It was no one's fault... except, perhaps, mine. I was the one who made such a big fuss about seeing something of the island before we left. Anyway, no harm was done, and I did get some good atmosphere material for the story. I expect I'm just feeling the pressure of the deadline coming up.'

Tony looked at her solicitously and picked up the tiny porcelain hand that lay across her knee. He had touched her hand before, of course. But this time Sarah could feel a difference. His grasp was more insistent, almost possessive.

Perversely, Tony's touch brought an unwelcome picture of Guy to her mind's eye. She gave a slight shake of her swinging auburn hair as if to rid herself of his spectre. Impulsively, as if she could somehow punish Guy, she returned the pressure of Tony's hand.

'I've neglected you these last few days,' he said. 'But I'm going to make up for that when you join me in England. You haven't forgotten your promise?'

'No,' she said, with a sad, twisted smile. She looked up at him and realised that he was going to kiss her. Her reaction was curiously coldblooded, as if she was the dispa.s.sionate observer of an experiment. Would she respond to him as she had to Guy?

She watched his gently parted lips move slowly towards her, then closed her eyes and accepted him in a robot-like reply. Encouraged by her pa.s.siveness, he became more demanding until she was finally jolted out of her numbness and murmured a small protest.

'All right, my darling, I won't press you. Just let me hold you for a moment-please.' He eased his pressure on her but did not release her entirely. He laid his cheek on top of her head and stroked her hair soothingly.

How could she rebuff him? He was ardent, yet so gentle. He accepted her silence as consent and continued to hold her head against his shoulder, not suspecting what sadness and conflict lay at the core of her muteness.

What am I doing? she thought, confusion knitting her brow. Any normal woman would be flattered by the attentions of Tony Freeland. He was all the things that Katie had so enthusiastically enumerated, and offered to open the door for her to a delightful interlude in her life.

Yet she was so curiously unmoved. Why did she feel so frozen, so cut off from her emotions and her body? Guy had no trouble in making her respond to his blatant, aggressive advances. The memory of them made her cheeks flame. She twisted her face into Tony's suit jacket so that he wouldn't see the colour that spread down her neck and think it came for him.

Her bruised ego craved the balm of Tony's affection. Yet she felt such a fraud in his arms! It was selfish and deceitful, and she hated it.

Tony's gla.s.s slid the length of the coffee table and crashed into Sarah's, splas.h.i.+ng sherry over the hem of her skirt.

'Oh, Sarah, I'm sorry,' he began.

'It's all right,' she said quickly, guilty at the relief she felt in being free of his arms. 'I'll get a napkin.'

As she stood, the roll of the s.h.i.+p sent her staggering, and only Tony's lunge for her kept her on her feet. The two stood clinging to each other, struggling for footing as the Enterprise righted herself and began a rolling pitch to the opposite side.

'Tony, look out there!' Sarah cried, pointing to the windows.

They had broken free of the ice-bound straits into the waters of Baffin Bay. The open sea was horrifyingly vast and green and cold. The sky was an ugly, mottled purple. Huge ice floes swirled slowly in the Greenland current, hinting darkly at their hidden power to grind and destroy. Immense swells surged against the hull, shooting high before raining down on the deck.

'A little humbling, wouldn't you say?' asked Sarah, hugging herself as a s.h.i.+ver travelled the length of her spine.

'You're not frightened, are you?' Tony laid both hands on her shoulders and twisted her to face him. 'Look, if it will help banish your fears, why don't we visit the bridge? We can hear the latest weather report, and you'll be able to see for yourself that the officers don't give a blow like this a second thought.'

Sarah stopped short as they entered the unusually crowded bridge and met Guy's hostile glare head-on. Squaring her neat shoulders and tossing her head back slightly, she held firm to Tony's arm with a proprietorial air that he could not miss. She knew it was a transparent, almost childish ploy, but she delighted shamelessly in its obvious success, noting the way Guy's eyes flashed as he watched them cross the room.

Patrick looked hara.s.sed, with smudges of weariness underlining his eyes. He didn't seem particularly pleased to see his employer, Sarah thought, but managed a perfunctory smile.

'The winds are almost up to gale force, Mr Freeland,' he replied to Tony's question, 'with no signs of slackening.' Then, seeing the alarm on Sarah's face, he added quickly, 'But we'll weather it, of course. If it gets to you, Sarah, you can get something from the medical officer to settle your stomach.'

'Thank you, Patrick. I may do that.'

He smiled ruefully. 'Poor Katie's taken to her bed with nausea. Keep your flat shoes on, and try to remember to keep your knees loose and flexible to absorb the pitching of the deck.'

'I do try,' said Sarah, frowning, 'but I can't quite get the hang of the rolling sailor's gait that-'

An angry voice rose over the general hum of machinery. Sarah peeped over Patrick's shoulder and saw two red-faced junior officers confronting each other, tempers snapping.

'What's the problem, Benton?' Patrick demanded.

'That last course change you ordered to avoid that berg, sir. It wasn't executed properly,' he replied tensely.

'Well, Stuart?' asked Patrick of the other man.

'The helmsman looked stiff but defiant. 'I executed the change as ordered, sir. I was just about to show Benton the record.'

Patrick looked at the book, then turned questioningly to Benton. 'Everything looks in order...'

'But it's not, sir,' he protested. 'Our position doesn't jibe.'

'Do your calculations again,' Patrick instructed.

He did, and the same infuriating discrepancy appeared.

'Take a manual fix, Patrick.' It was Guy. He'd been following the tense exchange and now appeared from the shadows at the back of the bridge.

'Yes, of course,' said Patrick, his eyes expressing grat.i.tude for the calming, sensible suggestion.

A sighting was taken on the stars using the same techniques known to sailors for hundreds of years. The tried-and-true method revealed that although the wheel had been put ten degrees to port, the bow had actually moved that way only marginally. The crew was stunned into silence by the implications of that news.

'It's the steering,' said Patrick at last, his voice betraying disbelief. 'It's not responding properly.' Jolted into action, he dispatched a cadet to summon the master and sent out an urgent call for Angus Dunn as well.

Captain Price appeared within minutes, still b.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt. He a.s.sessed the situation rapidly. After ordering a radical course alteration to compensate for the unresponsiveness of the steering, he sent Angus and two technicians down to the steering control room to try to find the cause of the malfunction.

'The weather?' he asked Patrick, his manner still utterly calm.

'Winds are sixty miles per hour with no moderation, sir. Gale force expected by nightfall- possibly as high as a hundred.'

'And ice?'

'Radar shows several large bergs bearing down on us. One is pa.s.sing us now close to the starboard side.'

'Too close, Patrick.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Why in heaven's name are they creating this melodrama!' whispered Tony harshly. 'This s.h.i.+p was designed to withstand the worst ice conditions.'

'There's a h.e.l.l of a difference between an icefield and an iceberg,' said Guy impatiently.

'Don't lecture me!' Tony snapped furiously.

'Please!' hissed Sarah, her eyes darting frantically to the crew. There was always just enough truth or logic in everything Guy said to make it difficult to argue with him and win-as she had discovered to her own chagrin. But the nagging suspicion that there was substance to everything he said only seemed to stiffen her against him.

'We'll have to make a substantial cut in speed, Patrick.' The Master's voice was disturbingly grave. 'Order a change to-'

Tony's voice slashed across his. 'There'll be no slowing down, Captain!'

Captain Price swivelled slowly around in his raised chair and looked quizzically at him. Every man on the bridge was silent, shock plainly written across his face.

'Perhaps you don't understand our situation, Mr Freeland,' he replied steadily. 'We're in very heavy seas. Our L.N.G. load is beginning to give us a roll effect, and our steering is not as precise as it should be. No prudent Master would continue to move through seas like these at full speed. Now, Mr Freeland-my s.h.i.+p needs my full attention.'

But Tony was in no mood to be put off. 'We're three days behind schedule and you tell me you want to be "prudent"! Well, I don't pay you top salary to have you run this s.h.i.+p like some nervous cadet. You're supposed to have the brains and experience to handle a situation like this!'

Dear lord, Tony! thought Sarah. How can you speak to him like that? She could barely believe her ears.

Captain Price was unshakably polite. 'I repeat: only a fool would push a s.h.i.+p through waves like those. She's too big, Mr Freeland. She can't ride them like conventional tankers. If she gets hung up on the crest of a giant wave with her bow and her stern hanging over the troughs, the weight of the L.N.G. could snap her back. It would be the end of us.'

'And are the seas that bad yet?'

'No... not yet. But may I remind you that the Enterprise's untried in gale conditions?'. He turned away from Tony. 'Helmsman-half speed!'

'No!' shouted Tony, striding over to the bewildered crewman, who stood with his hand hovering above the controls. The proverbial pin could have been heard dropping.

The Master's voice rang out, clear and authoritative. 'This s.h.i.+p's charter names me her Master, under G.o.d. Under G.o.d, Mr Freeland! Next to the good Lord himself, I have the sole responsibility for this s.h.i.+p and every life on board her. And with that authority, I will order you off the bridge and into your quarters, under guard, if necessary, if you attempt again to interfere with my command. Is that quite clear, sir?'

A dark shadow pa.s.sed over Tony's eyes. His fists clenched and unclenched. 'All right, Price... for now. But you'll never command the Enterprise again. Nor any other s.h.i.+p. I'll see to it.' He spun on his heel and strode out of the bridge, leaving the door banging wildly on its hinges.

As a cadet scurried to close the door, Sarah exhaled painfully. She had been holding her breath during the exchange until her chest ached. It had been an ugly piece of business, and it had shaken her profoundly. She looked up and saw Guy's eyes boring into her.

'Don't say it,' she blurted out. 'Just don't- say-a thing!'

'Why do you think I'm going to say something?' he asked sardonically.

'Because I'm beginning to understand you. Because I know you always have some sarcastic, taunting comment at the tip of your tongue. Well, I won't let you put me in the position of defending Tony!'