Devil and the Deep Sea Read Online Free PDF

touching her emotions. Yet, in
    the space of a few minutes, Roche Delacroix, of all people, had
    given her a swift, disturbing insight into what it might mean to be a
    woman—even though he'd treated her for most of the time like a
    child, she thought stormily, as she turned for another length.
    And then—paradoxically—had come that cynical —that
    abominable offer.
    'A year out of your life.' His words seemed to beat a tattoo in her
    brain. How dared he? she raged inwardly. Oh, how dared he? And
    it was no comfort to tell herself that he'd simply been amusing
    himself at her expense. After all, a man like that could have no real
    interest in an inexperienced nineteen-year-old. Margot, or even the
    absent Nina, would be far more his type.
    But soon Allegra would be gone, she tried to console herself, and
    she would never have to see Roche Delacroix or think about him
    again.
    She hauled herself out of the water, and began to blot the moisture
    from her arms and body, then paused suddenly, a strange prickle of
    awareness alerting her nerve-endings as if—as if someone was
    watching her.
    She stopped towelling her hair, and glanced over her shoulder,
    searching for a betraying movement in the shadows, listening for
    some sound. But there was nothing.
    She was being over-imaginative, she told herself, but she still felt
    disturbed, and she resolved to give nude swimming a miss for a
    while. If one of the waiters from the club, say, was taking a
    short-cut through the garden, there was no need to give him a field
    day.
    She pulled her clothes on to her still-damp body, and set off back
    towards the bungalow, her head high, looking neither to right or
    left.
    Probably there was no one there at all. But everything was off-key
    tonight because of Roche Delacroix, and she would be eternally
    grateful when he turned his back on Cristoforo for ever.
    Because, to her shame, she knew she would always be left
    wondering just what that—that year out of her life might have been
    like—with him.

CHAPTER THREE
    SAMMA was woken from a light, unsatisfactory sleep by a crash,
    and a muffled curse. She sat up, glancing at the illuminated dial of
    the clock beside her bed, whistling faintly when she saw the time.
    The poker game had gone on for longer than usual.
    She lay for a few moments, listening to the sounds of movement
    from the kitchen, then reached resignedly for her robe.
    Clyde was sitting at the table, staring into space, a bottle and glass
    in front of him. The eyes he turned on her were glazed and
    bloodshot.
    He muttered, 'Oh, there you are,' as if he'd been waiting for her to
    join him.
    She said, 'I'll make some black coffee.'
    'No, sit down. I've got to talk to you.'
    She said, 'If it's about what happened earlier—I'm sorry . . .'
    'Oh, that.' He made a vague, dismissive gesture. 'No, it's something
    else.'
    He was a terrible colour, she thought uneasily.
    He said, 'Tonight—I lost tonight, Samma.'
    The fact that she'd been expecting such news made it no easier to
    hear, she discovered.
    She said steadily, 'How much?'
    'A lot. More than a lot. Money I didn't have.' He paused, and added
    like a death knell, 'Everything.'
    Samma closed her eyes for a moment. 'The hotel?'
    'That, too. It was the last game, Samma. I had the chance to win
    back all that I'd lost and more. You never saw anything like it.
    There were only the two of us left in, and he kept raising me. I had
    a running flush, king high. Almost the best hand you can get.'
    She said in a small, wintry voice, 'Almost, but not quite it seems.'
    Clyde looked like a collapsed balloon. She was afraid he was going
    to burst into tears. 'He had—a running flush in spades, beginning
    with the ace.'
    There was a long silence, then Samma roused herself from the
    numbness which had descended on her.
    She said, 'You and Hugo Baxter have been playing poker together
    for a long time. Surely he'll be prepared to give you time—come to
    some arrangement over the property . .