Undine -

Chapter 18

'ARE you avoiding me?'

Sophie stood in Fern Deane's empty hallway, a large manila envelope holding Elizabeth's completed manuscript pressed to her breasts. She tilted her chin at Michael, not caring if he thought her forward. His reply was casual.

'Of course not.'

It had been a week since the incident in the lake, and she hadn't seen him once since his kiss and desertion of her in the kitchen. She'd felt the tenderness of that kiss, his desire and want; and now he stood before her behaving as though they'd only just met.

'I don't want any tension between us,' she said softly. 'There's really no need.'

Michael stared at her for a second, his eyes expressionless. Then he stepped around her and began walking away. 'I'm sorry, I have work to do.' His black clothing was funereal, serving to accentuate the feeling in Sophie that a part of her was dying.

'We can be friends, can't we?' she called impulsively.

Michael stopped to look at her. 'Were we ever anything else?'

She shook her head dumbly, longing to take his face in her hands and kiss away his defences

'What happened to your promise?' she asked suddenly.

Michael frowned. 'What promise?'

'The one about you taking me to Bird Island again.'

'I don't recall any promises.'

'I can't hold you to it then?'

'I'm busy for the next few weeks, and after that...' Michael shrugged dismissively and Sophie raised her chin and brazened it out, deciding it was time to force his hand. 'It's alright, Michael. I might take the boat out myself if you've no objection.'

'That's not a good idea.'

'Why? I'm getting pretty good at swimming - enough to keep my head above water should the boat go down.'

'That's not funny.'

'I'm not joking,' Sophie replied strolling away from him towards the open front door. 'I'm deadly serious.' She stepped into the sunlit doorway, knowing she was playing with fire. The thing was, she had to be sure. She was halfway down the steps when Michael reached her. He jerked her around so savagely she almost lost her grip on the manuscript.

'Take that boat out and it's the last thing you do here at Fern Deane.'

'You're hurting me-'

'Don't take the boat.'

'Why?' she insisted. 'Because you order it?'

'Because I ask it.'

In the harsh sunlight, Michael regarded her through narrowed eyes. For a moment Sophie considered laughing the whole thing off, admitting that she was joking and wouldn't have the courage to sail a tanker to Bird Island let alone a flimsy row boat. But her stubborn streak was goaded, and she'd rather die than submit to his will.

'But you won't,' he said at last. 'That lake is deeper than your courage.'

She glared at him, her anger fanned by the fact that he was unerringly right. 'Of course, it's your piddling boat and you've the right to deny me access, but you don't strike me as a dog in the manger type.'

Michael's eyes glittered. 'You don't know what I am.'

'I have eyes and ears,' she countered defiantly. 'And I'm not stupid.'