Free Garden of the Moongate by Donna Vitek Page B

left," she chanted to herself as a reminder as she slowly wound her way past oleander hedges and flower-bordered pink houses that walled in the serpentine road.
    Luckily, there was little traffic in the tiny old village of St. George, so she managed to park her blue-and-white bike down near the harbor without mishap. A huge cruise ship was in port, a Dutch name emblazoned in red letters high up on its gleaming white bow. After seeing all the sights the harbor had to offer, she visited some of the shops on Duke of York Street. Children's pink coral jewelry was a good buy, she thought, so she bought bracelets for three of her young cousins, then found terrific bargains in a cashmere sweater for her mother and a bottle of French perfume for Lynn. When she tired of shopping, she decided to finish her gift buying some other day. She went back to the harbor where she'd parked her bike, checking the time on her gold wristwatch. It was only two-thirty. There was plenty of time to ride part of the way toward Hamilton, just to see the sights.
    Her decision to go on was a mistake. Traffic picked up considerably as she passed the airport, and since she still didn't feel quite steady on the motorbike, the cars and buses that whizzed past her put her nerves in a jangle. Every time she spotted a place where she might have turned around, she was past it. The road curved too often for her to see what lay ahead. Then, before she could think of any way to prevent it, she was boxed in. The road had been carved through solid limestone, and the sheer rock faces towered above her on each side. Now she was forced to go on, even when a bus roared up behind her, so close she was certain she would feel it hit her at any moment. Her pulse pounded in her ears, though she managed not to panic completely. After that what seemed like an eternity, she was beyond the tunnellike rock facings, on open road again. Unable to stand the bus behind her another minute, she braked with foolish abruptness and veered off the road, bumping to a halt on the rough shoulder. The impatient driver's toot on the horn nearly sent her into cardiac arrest as she realized she had almost made him hit her by stopping so fast.
    "Oh, God," she muttered weakly as she turned off the bike's motor. She removed the safety helmet she wore with hands that shook so violently that it slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Somehow, if she wanted to ever return to the hotel, she had to face driving back between those towering rock walls again, but she wasn't at all sure she could force herself to do it.
    Luckily, she was rescued. Before she could push the bike farther from the road onto the grass beyond the shoulder, a black BMW came to a dust-raising halt beside her. Ric got out, his expression thunderous.
    As he strode toward Allendre she groaned inwardly. Her nerves were shattered already. She didn't need a confrontation with him to add to her misery.
    "Are you all right?" he muttered roughly, and when she nodded, his hard hands gripped her upper arms. "For God's sake, what were you trying to do? Only an idiot turns off that fast without any warning. That bus came within inches of hitting you! You're lucky you didn't become a fatality statistic just now!"
    "I know that. And I don't need you growling at me about it," she said squeakily, humiliated when tears sprang to her eyes. She twisted free of his grip and turned away, only to feel his hands descend much more gently onto her shoulders.
    "I'm sorry, Allie," he murmured, drawing her back against the hard length of his body for an instant before releasing her to catch her hand in his. "Come with me. Sit in the car until you feel calmer."
    Too weak-kneed to resist, she complied. A moment later she rested her head back against the tan leather seat, closing her eyes as Ric slid in beneath the steering wheel beside her. "I don't suppose you've ever even been on a motorbike before