Two things happened simultaneously. Davina took a step forward with every intention of hitting him, and the pilot, who'd been looking almost comically confused, said hastily, 'I say, Mr Warwick, sir-'

'Get lost, Pete,' S. Warwick said briefly. And, to Davina's amazement, with a sheepish look, that was just what the pilot did.

'I don't believe this,' she said through her teeth. 'Who the hell are you? Anyone would think you own the island and have set yourself up as some kind of self-styled pasha able to make free with your insults and order people around as if they were dogs!'

S. Warwick raised an eyebrow. 'I do own a fair slice of the airline, so you'll have to forgive Pete for deserting you in your hour of need,' he drawled and added, 'Why aren't you wearing a wedding-ring, Mrs Hastings? Or did the agency mislead me about that as well?'

'They did not,' Davina replied cuttingly. 'I am a Mrs and whether I choose to wear a wedding-ring or not has nothing to do with you! I am also extremely competent at housekeeping and if someone needs mothering, I'm quite prepared to mother them-' She stopped abruptly and her eyes narrowed. 'But why mothering'! Don't tell me you're divorced or you're a single parent?'

'I am neither, but then again I never told anyone that I was-could we be at cross purposes here?'

Davina frowned. 'Does that mean to say,' she said slowly, 'that you have no living wife, or no wife living with you?'

He regarded her with enough scorn to wither most people but Davina didn't even flinch as he said, 'Let me try to set this straight in your mind, Mrs Hastings. I am not married and therefore, as night follows day, I don't have a wife-do you think you're able to understand it now?'

'No mistress, de facto or whatever you like to call it?' Davina merely enquired, refusing to be deterred.