Bewildered Haven

Bewildered Haven By

Helen Bianchin

Contents

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10

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Original hardcover edition published in 1976

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ISBN 0-373-02010-4

Harlequin edition published October 1976

Copyright ©1976 by Helen Bianchin.

For

ESSIE SUMMERS

CHAPTER 1

The sides had darkened ominously over the past ten minutes as Jenny had negotiated peak-hour traffic through the inner city to the council car-park not far from Auckland's harbour passenger terminal. Locking her car, she made her way down to street level with the fervent hope she might make it to the

entrance lobby of her office building before the skies emptied their imminent deluge. Jenny stood at the corner and tapped her foot impatiently, for the computer-controlled traffic lights at the intersection were inanimately ignorant of the elements, and she cast a rueful glance upwards as huge drops of rain rapidly increased in volume. 'Just my luck,' Jenny muttered silently, viewing the wet black bitumen stretching out in front of her. 'Summer shower,' a voice beside her murmured expressively as the lights changed. Bending her head in preparation for a brisk sprint across the street, Jenny smiled a little for herself as she dodged other pedestrians scampering helter-skelter in the opposite direction, and in the lobby of the multi-storied office building she paused to pat her face discreetly dry with a tissue extracted from the depths of her shoulder-bag and stood regarding the hemline of her long skirt with a grimace of distaste, for it was damp and decidedly mud-spattered—and as for her hair! Long tendrils clung wetly about her neck and added to the dampness of her attractively embroidered muslin blouse. With a sigh she extracted another tissue and began to dry her arms. It really was too bad, and on a Monday too! She pondered idly if it could be an omen of some sort, and jabbed the elevator button for the third time with more than a little impatience. Where was the dratted thing? Surely with four elevators one should put in an appearance soon! Jenny suddenly became aware that someone was observing her actions, and she turned slightly to meet a pair of dark gleaming eyes surveying her quizzically. Huh! If ever a man resembled Lucifer, this one surely did! Tall, broad shoulders beneath an impeccably tailored jacket, his face raw-boned and deeply tanned, dark well-groomed hair—the man looked positively satanical, Jenny thought irritably. With cool deliberation she swept her gaze back to the elevator doors, utterly cross with herself that his image should bother her. An electronic swish heralded the arrival of an elevator and Jenny stepped quickly inside, aware that he followed closely behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him continue to appraise her steadfastly. Childishly she felt tempted to pull a face at him, and was extremely thankful when the elevator slid to a halt at the sixth floor. Head held high, she stalked out and walked briskly to the office suite where neat gold lettering .on sparkling glass proclaimed that the legal firm of Roderick Shaw Cantreli & Ogilvie could be found within. 'Hi there,' Suzy, the receptionist, greeted her, eyes alight with excitement. 'Guess who's—' she began, and then pulled a face as the muted insistent burr of the switchboard demanded her attention. Jenny smiled and passed through the elegantly furnished reception area and moved down the carpeted passage-way to the small annexe which served as the female staff-room, quickly drying her damp hair and effecting repairs to her make-up before going to her desk. It wasn't until the mid-morning coffee break that she had the opportunity to catch Suzy's breathtakingly imparted news. The reaction of the other three girls' faces caused her to query curiously.

'What's so great about this—what's his name? Benedict?' Lise, private secretary to Mr. Roderick, the firm's senior partner, raised her eyebrows at Jenny and looked faintly shocked. ' "What's-his-name Benedict", Jenny dear, is the Benedict of Benedict, Benedict & Partners, presiding on the top floor and lording it over us all, as it were,' She paused to smooth a hand carelessly over her silver-gilt hair elegantly drawn back from her face into a chignon, and her eyes became pensive as she continued, 'Not only does he head a highly successful legal firm whose clientele number largely among the cream of Auckland's elite society, but he happens to be remarkably wealthy, and a bachelor. At the age of thirty-five he's managed to elude the matrimonial net, and believe me—"love 'em and leave 'em" should be printed on to a button and pinned to the lapel of each and every one of his expensive suits!' she finished bitterly, sinking her teeth savagely into the inner softness of her lower lip. Jenny's eyebrows rose a fraction as she lifted her coffee from the table and selected a biscuit from the plate. 'He's sort of scary,' Suzy giggled infectiously, twisting a lock of her gleaming brown hair round her fingers. 'I'd hate to be alone with him—I'd never manage to keep up the "sophisticated young lady of the world" image I can project with most everyone else,' she finished breathlessly. 'He returned to his office this morning, according to the grapevine,' Judy broke in with interest, sweeping her gaze over the other girls' faces. 'I wonder what havoc he wreaked during his trip abroad? Woman-wise, naturally! Honestly, it seems most women from sixteen to sixty switch on and become provocatively female whenever he's around! I wonder whether he'll take up where he left off with that Scandinavian girl—Ilse, I think her name is,' Judy pondered cheerfully, and her expressive grey eyes brightened with interest. 'They were quite an item before he left for that overseas trip— attended several balls and appeared together at a few society parties around town. Half her luck,' she concluded enviously. Suzy wrinkled her nose expressively and sipped her coffee pensively. 'I believe he has a fabulous home out at Half Moon Bay—large and sprawling, and designed to resemble a Spanish hacienda. He even has a housekeeper living in. Mind you, he does a fair amount of entertaining.' Jenny cast them all a puzzled glance. 'You make him sound like some sought-after film star! With all that going for him, why hasn't he married?' 'Too wary, Jenny,' Judy enlightened her a trifle wryly, 'and too cynical. He only has to beckon and any number of girls come running. With that sort of variety, who needs marriage?' 'He sounds thoroughly objectionable. Let's hope I never have the misfortune to meet him,' Jenny declared with emphasis. 'You'll know all about it if you do,' Lose hinted darkly.

It happened much sooner than Jenny anticipated, as during the afternoon Grant Ogilvie asked if she could work late to finish a draft affidavit he particularly wanted to present to a client early next morning. The firm allowed an hour for dinner on such occasions, and at six o'clock Grant shrugged his shoulders into his suit jacket and stood patiently waiting out in the reception area while Jenny effected a few repairs to her makeup and tidied her hair. The restaurant was tucked away in a narrow street barely a few minutes' walk from their office building. It was dimly lit and well filled with patrons, and as an anxious waiter searched for an empty table a deep voice nearby addressed Grant by name and invited them to share. Grant turned, his manner immediately becoming slightly deferential. 'Very kind of you, Mr. Benedict. You're sure you don't mind the intrusion?' Jenny winced momentarily at the almost reverent tone in Grant's voice, then turned to face the exalted Mr. Benedict of whom she had heard so much. Her eyes widened as they met the decidedly devilish gleam in the dark eyes of the man seated at a table barely a few feet away. So he was Mr. Benedict! She forced herself to meet his mocking gaze with a steadiness she was far from feeling. 'Not at all,' he murmured urbanely, deliberately holding her gaze until thoroughly cross with herself Jenny had to glance away. 'I don't believe I've met your secretary, Grant,' Mr. Benedict observed when they were seated. His tone was light and mockingly amused, and Jenny felt an immediate sympathy for the younger man's embarrassment. 'Do forgive me. No, of course not—how could you?' Grant offered apologetically. 'Jenny, meet Mr; Benedict of Benedict, Benedict & Partners. Jenny Meredith.' Grant watched for Jenny's reaction, having not the slightest doubt she had heard considerable grapevine gossip concerning the one and only Mr. Benedict. His reputation in the courtroom earned him respect and admiration from fellow barristers—that he should undoubtedly have a way with women was the envy of all and the despair of some. 'Welcome to the legal fraternity, Jenny Meredith,' Mr. Benedict drawled softly, allowing his eyes to rove slowly over the contours of her face to linger at her lips before sliding upwards to meet her look of slight incredulity. Really, the man was a positive menace, Jenny thought crossly. Deliberately she refrained from speaking, offering only a slight inclination of her head in acknowledgment. 'I suggest you try the filet mignon,' Mr. Benedict intimated smoothly. 'It's the speciality here.' 'Jenny?' Grant enquired briefly, his tone clearly indicating that as the great man had spoken in favour of filet mignon there was in his mind no question of ordering otherwise.

'I'd prefer roast lamb, with mint sauce and vegetables,' Jenny said firmly, softening the blow somewhat by smiling kindly at Grant. 'Not the filet mignon?' he queried doubtfully. 'No.' Jenny could have sworn she caught a twinkle of laughter glimmering in Mr. Benedict's eyes as Grant placed their order, .and a few minutes later she was openly startled when he leaned forward and placed a stray forefinger to the wide beaten-silver ring on the third finger of her left hand. 'Your husband—he doesn't mind you working late?' As though scorched by his touch, Jenny snatched her hand away and glared at him indignantly. Just who did he think he was, that he could question her about her private life? 'I am not married, Mr. Benedict,' she said coolly, her tone plainly stating that in any case it was none of his business. He continued to examine her face with an unwavering scrutiny. 'And have no wish to be?' he queried softly, a slight smile lifting the corners of his sensuously moulded mouth. Jenny met his gaze defensively, anger replacing indignation as a tinge of colour spread over her cheeks. 'I have yet to be convinced any man is worth, it,' she found herself declaring with a trace of bitterness, and was not unaware of Grant Ogilvie's watching interest. 'Tell me how you measure a man's worth, Jenny Meredith?' the hateful Mr. Benedict continued with a seemingly indolent persistence, and he leant well back in his chair with every indication of pursuing his objective. Jenny thought wildly that if the waiter didn't appear soon with their meal she would surely scream! With a look that would have quailed a lesser adversary, she assured him in a voice that was deceptively calm, 'I find it hard to believe my opinion could possibly be of interest to you, Mr. Benedict, and I would thank you to refrain from amusing yourself at my expense,' she finished repressively. Mr. Benedict regarded her thoughtfully, his eyes frankly appreciating the nicely rounded curves beneath her pale cream muslin blouse. Her hair was a vibrant golden-brown with the merest hint of auburn glowing in its depths and lay loose almost to her shoulder-blades. Hazel eyes with golden flecks and a wonderfully generous mouth, and on the left cheek a tantalising dimple presented itself whenever she smiled. A nice clear skin too, and delicate bone structure. 'You jump to conclusions, Jenny Meredith,' he drawled enigmatically. 'Your opinions would fascinate me.' Jenny met his gaze steadily, intensely aware of his analytical appraisal, and was unable to still the feeling of antagonism this arrogant man seemed to cause. Why should she explain to this—this dynamic stranger the reason she chose to cover the tell-tale patch of white where until four weeks ago an engagement ring had nestled for more than a year? The hurt welled up inside her to think that Max had baulked at the last minute— that only three days before the wedding he had chosen to post a crucially short letter at the airport less than an hour before he boarded a plane bound for Sydney. She

still shuddered at the awkward embarrassing telephone calls both she and her widowed mother had had to make, the returned wedding gifts, the sympathetic pitying looks cast in her direction. The need to get away, right away from the host of lifetime friends, acquaintances— people who knew—was essential, and with contrived cheerfulness Jenny had done just that by packing her entire trousseau into the new set of matching leather suitcases and transferring nearly all of her savings. Auckland, New Zealand's largest city in the North Island, and more than a hundred miles further north from her hometown of Tauranga, seemed an ideal place in which to make a new beginning, and with partly formed plans to travel overseas in a year or less, Jenny had begun to feel the first stirrings of relief. Her mother had wrung her hands with anxiety when Jenny had flatly refused to stay with a distant relative on Auckland's suburban North Shore, choosing rather to rent a flat of her own. Anyone would think her years numbered sixteen instead of twenty-four, Jenny grimaced wryly. Thoroughly independent, she had booked into a motel on arriving in Auckland, and within two days had found a wonderful flat in the fashionable eastern suburb of Bucklands Beach. There had been no shortage of secretarial positions available, and at first she had been in favour of a complete change from legal typing, but the secretarial agency persuaded her to continue with the legal profession by pointing out the extremely attractive salary that one of their client firms was offering. Upon, hearing that the office suite was situated in an ultramodern high-rise building not far from the harbour Jenny had hesitated no further. Aware that Mr. Benedict was regarding her intently, Jenny assumed an air of extreme indifference and allowed her voice to become ice-cold. 'Indeed?' She raised an eyebrow and saw his eyes narrow fractionally. 'I very much doubt the fascination would last, Mr. Benedict. In any case,' she continued with false sweetness, 'don't you find this conversation rather pointless?' His eyes seemed to darken—almost in anger, Jenny realised uncomfortably, and began to wish she had chosen to ignore his provoking comments. She was aware of Grant's evident relief as the Waiter approached their table and set down two steaming plates of attractively served food. 'Saved—for the moment, Miss Meredith,' Mr. Benedict asserted blandly, signing the bill presented to him by the waiter. 'If you will excuse me?' He rose to his feet, inclined his head towards Grant and performed a slight mocking bow in Jenny's direction, .then moved swiftly towards the doorway. 'I would say,' Grant began, his expression one of genuine amusement, 'that you haven't heard the last of that little episode.' Jenny tightened her lips, and picking up her table napkin unfolded it across her lap. 'Well, really! Just who does he think he is, anyway?' she demanded crossly. 'Oh, for heaven's sake, let's change the subject! I'm sure that if I hear the name Benedict again today, I'll scream!' Grant cast her a speculative look as he began to cut into his steak. 'As bad as that?'

Jenny nodded vehemently, transferring her attention to the meal in front of her, aware that her animosity of the hateful Mr. Benedict was becoming way out of proportion. Shortly after nine that evening she let herself into the fiat and had just closed the door when the insistent zing of the telephone summoned her through to the hallway, and wondering who could be ringing at this hour she hurriedly answered it, her heart sinking as the voice of her cousin, Dianne, suggested Jenny make up a party of eight for dinner in town the following evening. Botheration! Jenny exclaimed silently. Well-meaning relatives were all very well, but she hated the idea of blind-dating. It was very probable they would dislike each other on sight, find they had nothing in common and make inane conversation in an attempt to hide a mutual boredom. Jenny pleaded tiredness, explaining that she had worked late at the office, but Dianne was adamant, insinuating that Jenny could hardly refuse for the third time of asking. Jenny found herself giving in, albeit gracefully.

The following evening Jenny crossed over to the carpark building at the close of a very tiresome afternoon spent monotonously copy-typing lengthy articles and memoranda of association involving innumerable clauses liberally smattered with the numerous herewiths, notwithstanding hereofs employed in legal documentation. Her head ached persistently, and she would have given anything not to be going out tonight. The car responded as she switched on the ignition, and cautiously she began to back it out from its resting place between an opulently gleaming XJ6 Jaguar and a rather battered Vauxhall. Thoughts of what she would wear to dinner occupied her mind—whether the long skirt with matching silk blouse in black dressed up with a waist-length looped chain necklace in gold would be too dressy, or perhaps the soft flowing lines of the jade crepe frock would be more suitable. There was a sudden jolt and the accompanying crunch of metal against metal, and Jenny felt her stomach lurch sickeningly as she switched off the engine. Shaken and alarmed, she emerged from behind the wheel of her car and turned, her heart plummeting at the sight of none other than Mr. Benedict himself standing inspecting the damage! to the front of his mustard-coloured, 280SE Mercedes-Benz. That car hadn't been anywhere in sight when Jenny had begun to reverse, and she lost no time in telling him so. 'As you hesitated half-way out from your parking space, I naturally assumed you had observed a vehicle in your rear-vision mirror and intended allowing it to pass,' he commented wryly, his eyes inscrutable behind dark glasses. 'If you must reverse by looking first over one shoulder and then the other, there's obviously a brief space of time when you lack continued visibility.' Jenny looked up at him wearily, aware that he seemed to be positively towering over her. 'Oh—fiddle-faddle!' she snapped crossly. 'You must have swooped down that ramp far in. excess of the regulation five miles per hour to have appeared so quickly behind me!'

'My dear young lady,' he began mildly, and Jenny sensed an underlying dryness in his tone, 'you're quite clearly in the—' 'I am not your dear anything!' she interrupted angrily, and positively glared up at him, 'And are not likely to be anybody's dear anything, if you insist upon being so prickly,' he informed her with asperity. His words stopped her effectively, and unaccountably hurt by his sarcasm Jenny was suddenly bereft of words. Her head thumped abominably and she felt the prick of tears beneath her eyelids. 'There doesn't appear to be much damage done to either car,' she managed shakily, ascertaining that her left rear lights were broken and the metal surrounding the light panel was dented. It seemed doubtful that his car had suffered much more than a slight dent and a scratched side panel. Jenny fumbled with the clasp of her shoulder-bag and searched for a piece of paper and a pen. 'I believe the correct procedure is to exchange particulars.' She found what she was searching for and hurriedly wrote down her name, address and car registration number before handing it to him, noticing for the first time the queue of cars banking up behind the Mercedes-Benz. Silently Mr. Benedict took the paper she held out and pocketed it, then reached into his jacket and withdrew a slim leather-bound notebook and pen. He stroked several lines in quick succession, then tore out the page and solemnly handed it to her. 'Au revoir, Jenny Meredith,' he saluted mockingly, watching intently as she thrust the paper into her bag and turned to slide in behind the wheel of her car. Jenny was conscious of his car following closely behind hers all the way down to ground level, and when she swung out into the lane of traffic she couldn't resist a quick glance in her rear-vision mirror. His slight smile and raised hand were all she needed to set her pulse racing and her blood boiling with indignation. It had been his fault, she was sure of it, but with a few well-chosen words he'd reduced her to feeling like an incompetent foolish teenager. The traffic was unusually heavy that evening and it took longer than usual to reach her flat. Inside she cast down her bag, slipped off her shoes and flipped idly through the letters she had retrieved from the mailbox-ran electricity adjustment account, a household brochure, and a bulky letter from her mother. Half an hour later, having showered and washed her hair, Jenny settled down to read its contents, a cup of black coffee beside her and her head partially submerged beneath a portable hair-dryer. It appeared her sister Jane, the younger by almost five years, was being difficult again, for she had booked her flight to Australia and intended travelling with two other girls equally irresponsible, and Jenny must come home at the weekend to help dissuade her. Jenny smiled a little, reflecting that at nineteen Jane had all her priorities nicely set out and was quietly but determinedly going her own way. She began painting her nails and sighed reflectively that a weekend at home might not be a bad idea. It would be nice to be fussed over, and for Jane's sake she must try to persuade her mother that Jane was more than capable of looking after herself whether it be in Melbourne or Mount Isa, and that she doubted very much Jane would be bitten to death by a snake or kicked insensible by a kangaroo!

Dianne and her husband George called for Jenny promptly at seven-thirty, introducing the man they had commandeered to partner Jenny for the evening. Jim Bickerton was of medium height with fair sandy-coloured hair curling well down on to the back of his collar. Blue eyes sparkled with a hint of humour in their depths as he frankly admired the attractive girl before him. Both he and Jenny exchanged a light wink when Dianne listed his degree in medicine—a doctor, so less! They were to meet the remaining two couples who were to make up the group at the restaurant, and Jenny supposed she should be grateful to Dianne and George for caring sufficiently ,to include her in the evening's entertainment. It was so difficult to persuade Dianne that it was too soon yet—that unreasonable or not, she really did want to be on her own for a while longer before she considered meeting other men socially. At the restaurant Jenny chose the filet mignon, mentally assuring herself that Mr. Benedict's voiced preference for the dish had nothing to do with it. Somehow she could imagine his sardonic smile if by chance he could have witnessed her choice. There must be something wrong with her, she chided herself irrationally— the last man she wanted to think about was the hateful Mr. Benedict! Instinct caused her to look across the dimly lit room into a corner recess, to seek and find a pair of dark gleaming eyes regarding her. intently. Mr. Benedict himself, no less, immaculately suited in black, his shirt linen starkly white, and at his side an attractive blonde girl whose facial beauty was quite startling. Sexy, too, Jenny elaborated when she saw them dancing a short while later. The girl's gown was skilfully cut and expertly sewn, in all probability an exclusive model, and it revealed a figure so gorgeous even the severest critic could have not faulted it. Could this be the Scandinavian girl Ilse that Judy had mentioned yesterday? Jenny couldn't help noticing that her partner moved with an ease that bespoke physical fitness, and there was something—everything that was dangerous about him. She remembered the slip of paper with his name powerfully scrawled across it—Z. Benedict. Z? There wasn't one ordinary name that she could think of beginning with the last letter of the alphabet. Jim Bickerton proved to be an openly friendly companion, easy to converse with, and Jenny felt slightly guilty that she must be rather dull company. To compensate she found herself agreeing to attend a party with him the following evening—then contrarily wished she hadn't, for he was too nice a young man to encourage idly.

Wednesday morning proved surprising in more ways than one. Grant Ogilvie was out of town for the day and had neglected to leave Jenny the dictaphone. Bryce Shaw was in court and not expected back until late afternoon, and the other girls had no extra typing they could hand over for Jenny to occupy her time. Suzy was the only one who seemingly needed assistance, and Jenny looked at the large cane basket overflowing with files ready to be put away with a hint of exasperation. How the mighty are fallen—from secretary to filing clerk in the space of a few short minutes! Jenny toiled diligently, stepping up and down the portable steps many; times, moving them around the inner room shelved from floor to ceiling. She didn't hear the door open until its hinges squeaked a little, and thinking it could only be Suzy summoning her to morning tea she merely climbed a step higher and pushed a file into place on the top shelf.

'I'll only be a moment. Pour it out, Suzy, there's a dear,' Jenny smiled, then she asked the question that had been bothering her vaguely since the previous evening. 'By the way—that insufferable man Benedict. What does the "Z" in his name stand for?' There was a brief moment of silence, then she froze as the dry unmistakable tones of the man himself came from behind her. 'Zachary, Jenny Meredith. Zachary Lucien Benedict.' Jenny swallowed nervously, wishing fervently that the floor would open up and allow her to disappear. 'Oh,' she muttered indistinctly. 'Did you want to see me?' she asked hesitantly a few minutes later when he had not offered any explanation for his unannounced appearance within the confines of the firm's filing room. 'I'd prefer to conduct this conversation face to face, if it wouldn't be too much to ask—attractive as your rear view undoubtedly presents itself,' Mr. Benedict finished mockingly. 'Oh, you're the most—' Jenny burst out angrily, turning too swiftly from her precarious position on the upper step and was unable to prevent herself from overbalancing. He caught her easily and she struggled desperately to free herself from the hard steadying strength of his arms, her eyes bright with suppressed fury as she stood facing him. 'Do go on, Jenny-wren,' he drawled softly, a dangerous glint apparent in those dark eyes several inches above her own. 'Don't call me that!' Jenny hissed angrily, infuriated that he had so lightly used the pet name her family endearingly used upon occasion. With concentrated effort she sought to control her heightened colour and quickened breathing, hastily smoothing down her skirt and straightening her short-sleeved skinny-rib knit jumper. With a semblance of docility she clasped her shaking hands together behind her back and enquired politely, 'You wanted to see me, Mr. Benedict?' A flicker of impatience crossed his broad-boned features momentarily. 'You surmise correctly, Miss Meredith,' he intoned dryly. 'You neglected yesterday to write down the name of your insurance company.' Jenny blinked rapidly at the formality, and felt sure he was deliberately putting her in her place—he was successful too, she grimaced inwardly. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' she managed quietly, meeting his eyes. 'It's the State Insurance. Do you need the policy number?' Mr. Benedict regarded her with studied ease for seemingly timeless seconds and Jenny could not have dragged her eyes away from his if her life had depended upon it. His eyes held a thoughtful expression and when he spoke there was the hint of a smile in his voice. 'Thank you, but no. I shan't detain you any longer,' he said equably, reaching for the door handle.

Jenny watched his broad back disappear through the doorway and wondered idly why he had chosen to enquire personally instead of using the telephone. The memory of his arms around her for those few brief seconds shook her equilibrium more than she wanted to admit. Undoubtedly he possessed a potent magnetism—dangerous, she mused silently. Definitely dangerous. To get involved with any man was the last thing she wanted— much less Zachary Lucien Benedict. She must be out of her mind! Zachary Benedict! The ultimate outcome of an allegiance with such a man was as clear to her as a whirring cinematographic film. He would wine and dine a girl, charm her with flattery, seduce her with practised ease—and then move on to fresh fields. Well, she wouldn't fall into that trap! It helped considerably to reassure herself that it was highly unlikely she would set eyes on Zachary Benedict very often—except perhaps in the elevator or the entrance lobby downstairs. He moved in a vastly different social circle from that of her own, and the chances of meeting him outside office hours were very remote. CHAPTER 2

Jenny spent her lunch-hour shopping, and returned to the office well pleased. Nestled between layers of tissue-paper inside the capacious cardboard box was an absolute dream of a dress—full length of cream indian muslin, it had crochet-lace insertions in a square design over the bodice and several inches above the hemline the pattern was repeated around the entire width of the skirt. The neckline was cut deeply square and revealed slightly more of her bosom than Jenny would have wished,- and the sleeves were wrist-length, gathered in at the elbows with several crochet-lace insertions spaced equally down the sleeves. With her honey-gold skin and vibrant golden-brown hair that held the merest gleam of auburn it was a perfect choice, and Jenny looked forward to wearing it this evening. There was time to shower and set her hair, and to apply her make-up with special care. Jim wasn't calling for her until eight-thirty, and for some reason Jenny felt slightly nervous and ill at ease. It would be the first time she had gone out alone with another man since Max had jilted her—and strangely that seemed so long ago. But it wasn't long at all—in fact it was five weeks to the very day, and it didn't hurt as much as it should have done. Jenny supposed philosophically that that should prove something! Jim rang the bell at her door a few minutes before she expected him, and he expelled a low expressive whistle of appreciation at her appearance. 'You look beautiful!' he exclaimed simply. 'There won't be one red-blooded male present at the party who won't want to elbow me out of the way in an attempt to claim you.'

Jenny chuckled lightheartedly as she collected her evening bag and closed the door of the flat behind them. 'Thank you for those kind words, dear sir! But I'll have you know I'm the loyal type—for better or worse you're stuck with me for the evening.' Jim's smile was expressively delightful. 'The pleasure is all mine—believe me!' They were travelling towards Howick, a suburb only a few miles south-east from Jenny's flat at Bucklands Beach. Jim had told her the previous evening that a friend of his—a fellow doctor—was soon to be married and had recently bought a home, and was intent upon giving a housewarming party before the wedding. Some home, Jenny admired approvingly as they stepped inside the downstairs entrance and made their way through to a huge lounge. It was built on the lines of a mansion, and was lavishly furnished—what Jenny could see, for it was difficult as the lights were dimmed and plunged the lounge into semi-darkness. The noise from the stereo' speakers was pleasantly loud and there seemed to be people everywhere. Somehow Jim managed to locate their hosts and performed the necessary introductions. It was all of fifteen minutes before Jenny felt relatively at ease, helped no doubt by one and a half glasses of alcoholic beverage to the ingredients of which she was loath to put a name. Defying description, it Certainly packed a punch whatever it was, she mused thoughtfully. Her eyes were becoming accustomed to shapes in the dimly lit room, and there was something disturbingly familiar about the tall figure several yards away— the broad-set shoulders, the back of his head. At that instant he turned slightly and his profile was clearly discernible. Oh, heavens above! Jenny felt the breath catch in her throat and the tension inside her began to mount overwhelmingly. Darnation! She valiantly tried to mask her inner turmoil with animated inconsequential chatter, aware that Jim was taken aback at the sudden change in her manner. 'What's going on, Jenny? You look as if you've seen a ghost,' he remarked carelessly, noticing the brightness of her eyes and the nervous fluttering of her hands. Jenny managed a light laugh and eyed him covertly. 'What makes you think that? If anything, this indescribable concoction seems to be going straight to my head,? she remarked gaily. This would never do, Jenny chastised herself sternly. What if Zachary Benedict is here ? It was most unlikely that he had come alone, and in any case she had made up her mind that she wanted nothing more to do with him. He was by far too dynamically masculine for any girl's peace of mind—especially mine, a small voice inside her prompted. Bother the man! 'In that case, you'd better slow down and munch some potato crisps or pretzels,' Jim suggested dryly, reaching down to a nearby coffee table for a bowl of each and offering them to her. Jenny pulled a slight face at him and obediently plucked a few crisps from the half-empty wooden bowl. 'Your medical degree is showing, Doctor,' she teased lightly as she bit into an over-large crisp.

'Would you prefer it if it didn't?' he quipped non-chalantly. Jenny shook her head, her expression sobering. 'Not really. You're a nice young man, Jim Bickerton,' she added kindly, and smiled at him, her lips curving generously. 'And you regard me as you would your own brother,' Jim remarked wryly, but there was the hint of a twinkle in the depths of his blue eyes. 'If I had a brother, he couldn't be nicer than you,' Jenny complimented seriously as she sipped her drink and delved an idle hand into the bowl of crisps. At that moment their host attracted Jim's attention and invited him upstairs to inspect one of the rooms he had had set up as a laboratory. 'You don't mind, Jenny?' Jim queried solicitously. 'I won't be away for very long—ten minutes at the most.' Jenny smiled good-naturedly, her eyes alight with humour. 'I wouldn't have the heart to say yes,' she grinned at the two men, watching as they turned and made their way from the room. Despite her cheerful assurance Jenny felt very much alone and vulnerable in that large room filled to capacity with mingling guests. She was acutely aware of Zachary Benedict's compelling presence only yards away—which was silly, for he probably hadn't noticed her at all! In any case, she had given him little encouragement with which to seek her company—her memory vividly recalled their conversation earlier in the day. Vexedly she sipped the last of the remaining liquid in her glass. She should never have come tonight—an evening spent watching television would have been infinitely more relaxing! Idly she allowed her gaze to rove slowly about the room, and her eyes widened fractionally as they came to rest on Zachary Benedict. Her quickened pulse and the warm rush of colour to her cheeks was galling as she observed him disengage himself from the group with whom he had been conversing and begin weaving his way towards her. It-was too late to turn and run—besides, where would she run to? She was scarcely a child, and surely she could handle the situation with maturity. 'Enjoying yourself, Jenny Meredith?' Zachary Benedict's voice was a cynical drawl, and Jenny flashed him a slightly guarded smile. 'Am I to take it that you're not?' she parried lightly, her heart pounding imperceptibly as she became aware of the in tenseness of his gaze. 'Now why should you imagine that?' Zachary Benedict countered lazily, his eyes gleaming darkly down at her. With careless ease he withdrew his cigarette case, and flicking it open proffered it to her. Jenny hesitated momentarily, then selected one and placed it between her lips, leaning forward slightly to catch the bright flare of his lighter, and watched in idle fascination as he snapped out the flame with a decisive click.

'You haven't answered my question,' he voiced imperturbably, his eyes following her hand as it moved nervously back and forwards. Bother the man! Jenny thought crossly. She didn't smoke hardly at all—in fact it was purely a social affectation on her part and she was very much aware of her amateurish efforts. Zachary Benedict moved a negligent hand towards her and Jenny started visibly as he calmly plucked the offending smoking tube from her nervous fingers. With cool deliberation he crushed it out in a nearby ashtray and turned back to regard her enigmatically. 'Little girls should be tucked up in bed safely at home and not allowed out after dark,' he slanted down at her sardonically, his voice deceptively mild. Jenny shot him a look of open hostility, her eyes bright with suppressed anger. 'Ah, yes,' she flashed, albeit solicitously. 'Safeguarded from the big bad wolves who eat little girls for breakfast!' Her nerve-ends began to bristle like the prickles of an indignant hedgehog as she defiantly met his devilishly mocking gaze. Really, the man was a definite menace! 'Or supper,' Zachary Benedict murmured baitingly, and his dark eyes raked her features with an almost indolent deliberation. Jenny controlled an unconscious shiver of apprehension and lowered her eyes to the impeccably knotted silk tie at the neck of his pale lilac shirt, noticing that it seemed to exactly match the deep mulberry shade of his faultlessly tailored suit. Scarcely a coincidence, she pondered uncharitably—undoubtedly a man of Zachary Benedict's calibre had most of his clothes custom-made. 'This conversation seems rather ridiculous, don't you think, Mr. Benedict?' she suggested matter-of-factly in an attempt to retain a vestige of politeness. 'Agreed, Jenny Meredith,' he intoned smoothly, and his mouth curled into a warm slightly quizzical smile. 'I suggest you leave the "Mr. Benedict" for the confines of our mutual offices. We have been formally introduced. I seem to recall.' Jenny fingered the fine muslin of her dress and looked beyond his shoulder at the sea of people. 'I very much doubt our acquaintance warrants me using your Christian name,' she said quietly. 'We're hardly likely to meet socially very often.' There was a flicker of anger in the depths of those dark eyes as they regarded her sombrely, and he seemed to be taking rather a long time in choosing his words. 'Then you must permit me to extend our acquaintance by having dinner with me tomorrow evening.' Jenny's eyes widened with disbelief and she felt a tinge of colour flood her cheeks. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think—' 'Why not?' he interrupted in a voice that was calmly serious.

Jenny hesitated briefly, for her thoughts were a chaotic mixture of emotions. 'I don't play sophisticated games,' she managed at last, and willed herself to meet the formidable warning in his gaze. 'I invited you to have dinner with me,' Zachary Benedict averred dangerously,' his eyes glittering like polished onyx, 'not share my bed. Contrary to your nods-guided conclusions, I don't necessarily expect one to follow the other.' Jenny felt the tide of embarrassment flood her face, and it. was only by sheer willpower that she desisted from turning away from this aggravatingly arrogant man. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Benedict, but I can't accept. However, Fin sure you have a host of telephone numbers belonging to an equally innumerable host of gorgeous women— any one of whom will be ecstatically delighted to receive your invitation,' she finished sweetly, suppressing a wave of anger at the way his lips twitched at the corners in the semblance of a cynical smile. 'Can't—or won't?' he voiced calmly. 'Tell me, Jenny Meredith, do you fight so passionately with that pleasant young man who escorted you here tonight? I doubt he could handle all the latent emotion that threatens to boil over inside you.' Jenny turned on him in fury, and could have railed her fists against that broad expanse of chest had she not caught sight of Jim weaving has way towards them. 'How dare you I' she breathed furiously, her eyes alight with anger. 'Oh, I dare, Jenny Meredith,' he smiled sardonically. 'I'll telephone you at the office tomorrow.' 'You'll be wasting your time,' Jenny said deliberately. 'Let me be the judge of that,' he concurred tolerantly. It took supreme effort to breathe calmly and appear normal, but somehow she managed it by the time Jim reached her side. She expected Zachary Benedict to slip away, but to her chagrin he stayed at her side for a further ten minutes or so, and gave every appearance of being a charming friend—so much so that Jim was to query when Zachary Benedict took his leave if there wasn't more than friendship between the two of them, Jenny's emphatic denial merely aroused Jim's curiosity still further and he appeared to remain unconvinced, which only served to add to Jenny's annoyance. 'I'm completely immune to the man,' she declared vehemently. 'Zachary Benedict is too egotistical for words, and if I never see him again I couldn't be better pleased!' Jim's eyes gleamed speculatively as he handed her another drink. 'Methinks the lady doth protest too much,' he observed softly. 'Jim Bickerton! I warn you, if you so much as mention that—that man's name again I'll ring for a taxi to take me home,' Jenny declared wrathfully.

'All right, all right,' Jim laughed, and held his hands high in defence. 'I promise!' Jenny calmed down considerably and felt contrite. 'I'm sorry—really I am,' she said regretfully; and lifted a hand to smooth back a stray lock of hair that had fallen forward on to her cheek. 'It's just that that man seems to rub me the wrong way.' 'Well, let's circulate for a while. There's a couple of people I'd' particularly like you to meet, and if you feel like dancing we can attempt to find some space at the far end of the room.' Jenny smiled impishly up into his nice serious features and put down her glass. 'I thought you'd never ask!' Jim shook his head in mock despair as he led her across to where several couples were dancing. 'Me and my big mouth! Kindly remember, young lady, that I must report to the hospital by seven tomorrow morning— you may be a bundle of energy after sitting at an office desk all day, but I'm an overworked young doctor.' 'Then I shall pull a Cinderella act and ensure you have me home by midnight—how's that?' she twinkled wickedly as she began to sway in rhythm to the music. 'Ah, that's nice,' he grinned down at her. 'You care!' Jenny laughed—a light bubbly sound that was infectious and lent a sparkle to her eyes. 'It's your patients that I'm concerned for, Jim Bickerton. I thought doctors were meant to be dedicated young men.' 'Oh, we are, we are,' he chuckled goodnaturedly. 'But not to the exclusion of all life's little pleasures.' 'If you mean what I think you mean—' Jenny began spiritedly, only to be interrupted. 'That hint' of auburn in your hair isn't there for nothing,' Jim remarked wryly, and reached out to tweak her cheek playfully. 'Relax, Jenny. I never Advance unless victory is a foregone conclusion.' 'And with me it wouldn't be?' she queried calmly, watching as he shook his head solemnly. 'No way, dear girl. Permissiveness isn't your style. Tell me what you think of Auckland,' he requested conversationally, drawing her into his arms as the music changed to nostalgic melancholy. 'I admire your adroit handling of our conversation,' Jenny commented tolerantly. 'I'll do my best to wax lyrical over Auckland's attributes. The pressures are much greater of course, than in Tauranga. Most everyone is hurrying to work, or home, and the peak-hour traffic is bedlam in the city. But I love the beaches, and the neat suburban streets. Some of the homes are magnificent—from the elegant older style like this one to the very modern dwellings. The city itself looks so beautiful as you drive over the harbour bridge from the North Shore. I haven't had much chance yet to explore at the weekends, but I like what I've seen so far.'

'My father owns a sizeable launch which the family use at the weekends—weather permitting. Perhaps you'd like to join us this Sunday,' Jim suggested. 'I'll ring you sometime tomorrow when I've checked what time we're supposed to be leaving.' Jenny shook her head regretfully, genuinely sorry at having to refuse. 'Oh, Jim, much as I'd like to, I can't make it this Sunday. I'm committed to going home for the weekend, but any other time I'd be delighted to Come. Really,' she assured him enthusiastically. 'Right,' he grinned happily down at her. Altogether it was an enjoyable party, even if Jenny did catch an occasional sardonic smile slanted in her direction from the superior Zachary Benedict. He didn't lack feminine company—whenever she caught sight of him there seemed to be a different girl at his side, which made it almost impossible to discover which girl might be his actual date for the evening. When Jenny left with Jim shortly after midnight the party looked like lasting for several hours, and Jenny wondered idly how ail these people kept pace with such a hectic social life and yet put in a full working day as well.

Jenny took a sip of coffee and then replaced the cup back on to the saucer with care as she glanced around the confines of the small room the female staff utilised for their twice-daily coffee-breaks. 'It doesn't look as if Ilse is still numero uno with Zachary Benedict,' Judy elaborated cheerfully as she took a biscuit from the plate and bit into it daintily. 'I saw her last night in the company of a tall blond Nordic type— they were at the same restaurant as Bill and I.' Jenny picked up her cup and held it carefully between both hands as she reflected pensively over what the girls' reaction would be if she were to tell them that the great Zachary Benedict had been present at the same party she had attended with Jim last evening—what was more, that he had deliberately sought her out. The muted burr of the telephone interrupted her reverie and Suzy hurriedly flew out to the reception desk to attend to the switchboard. She was back in a minute with a bright smile on her pertly expressive face. 'It's for you, Jenny—a gorgeously attractive male voice.' Jenny looked across at Suzy in startled surprise and replaced her coffee cup down on to the table. 'I've put it through to your extension,' Suzy grinned amiably as Jenny stood to her feet and moved towards the door. Jim, Jenny perceived thoughtfully—it had to be Jim ringing to arrange a date for an evening next week.

'Hello,' Jenny spoke quietly into the receiver, 'Jenny Meredith speaking'—then she almost dropped the wretched thing with shock as the dry unmistakable tones of Zachary Benedict came over the line. 'Good morning, Jenny Meredith. Zachary Benedict.' His voice was gorgeously attractive, and much to Jenny's chagrin the sound of it sent goosebumps scudding treacherously up and down her. spine. 'Good morning,' Jenny replied non-committally. 'Hmm,' he drawled thoughtfully. 'Am I to assume from your lack of enthusiasm that an invitation to dinner will be met with a dampening refusal?' 'Why me, Mr. Benedict ?'Jenny queried disparagingly. 'Why not, Jenny Meredith? Come now, don't tell me you're afraid to have dinner with me,' Zachary Benedict drawled cynically. 'Not at all. It would be a waste of time—for you,' Jenny elaborated very firmly, and pursed her lips as he answered sardonically. 'I'll call for you around seven this evening.' 'No—I don't—' she began hurriedly, but there was a click as he replaced the receiver, and Jenny tossed her hair back in a single angry movement. Really! He had the arrogance and assurance of Old Nick himself! Well, she would go out with him—if only to prove that she was unsusceptible, whereupon after a sufficiently dull evening in her company Zachary Benedict would hopefully leave her alone. 'Well?' Suzy came back to the outer office, a study of inquisitiveness. 'Did he make a date with you?' Jenny's features creased into a friendly smile. 'Yes, Suzy—for dinner tonight.' 'Oh, that's great!' Suzy's eyes brightened with pleasure. 'What are you going to wear?' Jenny laughed and shook her head in despair. 'Give me time—I've only just put down the phone!' 'All right,' Suzy grinned companionably. 'Just remember to give me a recount at morning tea tomorrow.' Jenny pulled a face at her and moved across to her desk. 'You're as bad as my sister Jane,' she declared with amusement. 'Well, at least you can't say I don't take an interest,' Suzy retaliated with a laugh, then sighed expressively as the switchboard demanded her attention.

Jenny spent the remainder of the day torn between choosing a slinky gown of black Arnel jersey, or a rather brilliantly coloured scarlet ankle-length skirt and a white body-shirt with scarlet stitched pin-tucking and matching scarlet buttons. Either choice would look well, although the black gown was infinitely more eyecatching. In the end, she decided on the scarlet skirt and white body-shirt. It was flatteringly elegant and demure, and if she was to be successful in convincing Zachary Benedict that he was pursuing a lost cause, then she must not wear anything that was remotely revealing. Yes, Jenny decided silently as she stood viewing her appearance in the mirror, that would do very well. Her hair was falling loose about her shoulders in a gloriously shining, gently waving flow, and with a deep breath she picked up her evening bag, idly sparing a quick glance at her watch as she moved out into the lounge. It was precisely one minute before seven, and the sound of a car pulling in to her driveway set her pulse racing. Nervously she caught at a lock of hair and fingered it into a curl as she waited for the sound of footsteps and a knock at her door. 'Good evening,' Jenny greeted formally. 'Charming, Jenny Meredith,' Zachary drawled slowly, and his eyes gleamed with approval as they swept her from head to toe in a swift all-encompassing glance. 'Very charming.' 'Shall we go?' Jenny suggested coolly. Zachary stood aside and followed her to the car with scarcely more than a slight questioning lift of an expressive eyebrow. 'I shan't eat you for supper, Jenny Meredith,' he slanted wryly as the car purred towards the city. 'Jenny turned and regarded him sombrely. 'I don't intend that you shall, Zachary Benedict.' A ghost of a quizzical smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 'I think you've made your point.' Jenny refrained from commenting, - and they were seated in the restaurant at a quiet secluded corner table -before Zachary spoke again. 'Perhaps you would care to peruse the menu,' he suggested blandly, 'and then inform me of your choice.' Jenny met his eyes across the table. 'Thank you,' she said calmly. The wine steward produced the wine list and Jenny was consciously aware of a brief consultation and a mutual satisfaction of Zachary's selected preference for a particularly excellent local vintage still white wine. 'If I were to suggest the chicken fricassee, you will no doubt plump for crayfish—or some other dish far removed from anything remotely resembling chicken,' Zachary commented sardonically.

'On the contrary,' Jenny replied sweetly. 'Who am I to query the opinion of such an undoubted connoisseur?' Zachary's eyebrows quirked in amusement. 'Well, well,' he drawled deeply. 'Could it be that a truce is in the offing?' 'Chicken fricassee,' Jenny pondered thoughtfully, choosing to ignore his barbed query, 'and, let me see— yes,' she decided mischievously. 'Peach flambé for dessert.' Zachary picked up his wine glass and raised it solemnly to his lips. 'I believe we have an' illuminating conversation to continue—one that was . regrettably terminated over dinner some few evenings ago.' His eyes met her silent frowning query. 'You were about to enlighten me as to how you, Jenny Meredith, measure a man's worth.' Jenny looked startled, and her eyes met his with slight incredulity. 'You don't expect me to answer that, surely?' Zachary's lips curved into a wry smile. 'Oh, but I do, Jenny. I'm sure I'll find your answer particularly significant.' 'I think not—in fact, I'm sure you wouldn't.' 'Oh, come—I'm disappointed,' he murmured softly. Jenny drew breath with a degree of impatience, 'Very well,' she began firmly, her eyes sparking with anger. 'Such qualities as honesty, patience and understanding.' 'That sounds very commendable, Jenny Meredith. But what of the all-consuming fire of passion—or does such an emotion not enter into your ideal of a perfect partnership in the redoubtable state of matrimony?' Zachary probed persistently. Jenny felt her cheeks tinge with warm colour as she picked up her glass and determinedly sipped the contents. 'I find your deliberately baiting remarks singularly lacking—and since I am not one of your countless admirers, I refuse to sit here and be subjected to your dissecting brand of cynicism!' She placed her glass down on to the table and moved to stand to her feet. She was past caring whether or not her actions would cause attention, and all she wanted to do was to get as far away from the uncaring censoriously ruthless man sitting only a few feet across the table from her. 'I apologise for my brutish. behaviour—sit down!' Zachary admonished wearily, then added persuasively— 'Please, Jenny.' Jenny looked at him and remained undecided. The waiter appeared at that precise moment bearing two mouth-watering platters of chicken fricassee, and Zachary met her glance unwaveringly., 'I promise not to utter another word until we've both eaten,' he said with apparent seriousness.

Jenny eyed him warily, then capitulated silently, turning her attention to the food steaming aromatically on her plate. Strangely, their mutual silence for the remainder of the meal wasn't an uncomfortable one, and once or twice Jenny spared him a surreptitious glance from beneath her long-fringed lashes to find, disconcertingly, that he was regarding her enigmatically. 'Will you dance with me, Jenny?' Zachary's voice drawled from across the table as Jenny sipped wine from her glass moments after the attentive waiter had removed her empty dessert plate. Jenny viewed him a trifle cautiously over the rim of her wine-glass, then inclined her head in acquiescence. It would be just her luck for the music to change to a lilting dreamily soft melody that brought the hitherto swaying couples close together to drift slowly about the floor. She wanted to draw back, to deny any close contact with him, but it was too late and his arms drew her effortlessly close in against him. She told herself severely that she should be hating every moment of this—the almost sensually slow movement as they drifted amongst the crowded couples. But contrarily she felt oddly at peace with herself, and with Zachary Benedict. There was a lightness to being held in his arms like this— almost as if they had known each other in another world and their mutual souls were forcing recognition. The unreality of it was so real that when a careless jolt suddenly thrust her hard against him she didn't struggle as his arms moved to alter their hold to keep her firmly there, and timeless seconds later her arms moved almost of their own volition to clasp themselves about the back of his waist It seemed an age before the music changed to a definite up-beat and they moved apart to wander back to their table. 'Will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening?' Jenny looked across the table as Zachary voiced the question, and she replaced her glass carefully before meeting his gaze. 'I'm sorry, but I can't,' she said slowly. 'I'm going home for the weekend straight after work tomorrow afternoon. Thank you,', she added quietly seconds later. The wine and the dimly lit atmosphere of the restaurant must be affecting her brain, she concluded musingly, for she felt strangely regretful that circumstances prevented her from accepting Zachary Benedict's invitation,, 'Then of necessity it must wait until next week.' 'Perhaps,' Jenny murmured, not at all sure it would be wise to see him again. Already she was feeling bemused, and there was a certain danger to fostering any emotion between them—of that she was positive. As the Mercedes-Benz turned into the driveway and crunched to a halt outside her flat there was an oddly tense air within the car, and Jenny found herself sitting stiffly upright with not one coherent thought capable of coining to mind. She watched in mesmerised fascination as Zachary switched off the engine and slid out from the car to move around and open the door beside her.

Without a word she slipped out and stood on the pavement, clutching her evening bag as if it alone could provide a lifeline to returning sanity. 'Au revoir, Jenny Meredith,' Zachary said softly, and bent his head to touch his lips fleetingly at her temple. 'Goodnight,' Jenny blurted tremulously, then turned and ran up the path to the front door, inserted her key into the lock and quickly closed the door behind her. Only when she heard the car reverse down the drive way did her breathing begin to return to normal, and sleep was an elusive captive until the early dawn hours. CHAPTER 3

Immediately after work Jenny drove south from the city en route to Tauranga, and she felt relaxed and relatively carefree as she left the end of the southern motorway. Open country—how peaceful and tranquil it appeared after the rush and bustle of the pity. The paddocks were lush green pasture covering the gently undulating land, and Jenny cast an affectionate gaze at the slumberous cattle moving lethargically closer to the homesteads. The clean fresh air smelt good and she breathed in deeply to fill her lungs with it. All being well she would have only little more than half an hour in which to drive while it was dark. Daylight-saving time was still weeks away and it was seldom light much after seven-thirty in the evenings. Jenny hated to admit it, but driving at night through open country scared her silly. Dark looming shapes seemed to leap out and almost engulf the car, and she had an inordinate fear that some mechanical fault might bring the car to a standstill and thus leave her vulnerable. The Hauraki Plains stretched out before her—acre upon acre of flat pasture with areas of swamp, where deep ditches ran alongside the road to drain the excess water from the surrounding land, and the tall white-plumed toi-toi grass grew in clumped profusion. The dark hills beyond Paeroa grew closer and it was almost seven o'clock when Jenny eased the car round the numerous winding bends of the Karangahake Gorges—high dark mountains on either side of the gently running river with the old rusted corrugated iron edifice at its edge to remind all who passed by of the gold rush days of long ago. It seemed eerie in the softly fading light, and Jenny could almost sense the bygone activity of the eager men panning for the precious metal—the exultant cries, the boisterous raillery in the local hotel after dark. Many a fortune had been made—and lost, in these parts. Dusk was rapidly encroaching as Jenny passed through the farming township of Katikati, and she unconsciously increased her speed. As the lights of Tauranga and Mount Maunganui flickered in the distance she breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. It wouldn't be too long before she was safely home.

Home had a welcoming ring to it, and somehow a town where one had spent childhood years was always fondly remembered as home no matter where one travelled, Jenny reflected affectionately. Those carefree days when all that seemed important were what games to play, and with whom. Learning was associated with school, and although it was regarded as a necessary labour one shook off the shackles quickly enough come the close of a school day. She had had a particularly gentle upbringing—nothing untoward had occurred during her young life to sow the seeds of antagonism. Life's changing patterns she had welcomed with enthusiasm and a sweet openly friendly smile. Tennis, basketball, squash had figured largely in her spare time, and she had been a popular inclusion on various club trips. Thinking back, Jenny wondered if her father's sudden death had had something to do with her need to cling to Max Enfield—a nice young man who up until then had been just a boy among boys in the crowd she mixed with. Their discovery of a mutual need for each other's company hadn't come swiftly—it had grown slowly out of habit, like always meeting after work on Tuesdays for coffee in a downstairs coffee-bar, going to the cinema each Saturday evening or attending a dance, and wandering around the shops on a Friday evening, late shopping night. Soon Max was regularly invited for dinner on Sundays, and before long it was assumed by all that Jenny and Max would become engaged. Jenny thought ruefully that their engagement had been arrived at by contrived auto-suggestion! The things we do that are motivated by a wish to please relatives and friends, she sighed aloud. Perhaps one needed to make a mistake in life to be awakened to the harshness of reality—to achieve the essential will to be one's own master or mistress, she concluded wryly. If she was wholly honest, she had to admit her pride was hurt that Max hadn't had the courage to tell her to her face that he felt their approaching marriage was a mistake. She felt surprisingly heart-whole—not heartbroken at all. The porch light shone out over the front lawn in welcome as Jenny turned her car into the driveway, and she thankfully switched off the engine and touched the horn twice. Almost at once the door opened and a short plump middle-aged matron flew down the steps and clasped Jenny against her amply proportioned bosom with an enthusiasm that almost knocked her off her feet. 'Jenny, my dear,' Mrs. Meredith breathed affectionately. 'How wonderful to see you.' She leant forward and kissed her daughter resoundingly on the cheek, and then stood back as Jenny removed her suitcase and a few packages from the back seat of the car. 'Oh, Mother—really!' Jenny remonstrated amiably. 'It's only been four weeks since I left. Here, take this, there's a pet—it's for you, and no peeking until we're inside!' She put an arm round her mother's shoulders as they walked up the steps together, and once inside the kitchen breathed a gratifying sigh at the aroma of steak and kidney stew. 'There's some lemon meringue pie to follow, with whipped cream, and I've some of those nice cheese biscuits. Now, eat up well, dear, for I'm sure you don't eat enough nourishing food flatting on your own.'

Jenny laughed—a soft contented chuckle which lightened her face into something quite beautiful. 'I'm sure you intend to send me back to Auckland at least four pounds heavier,' she smiled fondly across the table at her mother. 'You could well do with it, my dear,' Mrs. Meredith replied with a gentle shake of her head. 'Is Jane due home soon?' Jenny queried casually as she tucked in with relish to the generous helping of lemon meringue pie. 'Yes—at least, I think so,' her mother answered cautiously. 'Bob Sanderson called for her about seven, but they said they'd be back in time to watch the film on television.' Her face puckered a little as she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. 'Oh, Jenny, she's too young to go to Australia. She's so determined, and nothing I say makes any difference. Who knows what will happen to her so far from Home ? In the cities— all those Greeks and Italians. So many different nationalities, and I've heard it's quite dangerous to walk about at night.' Jenny smiled slightly. 'Mother, you're thinking of Sydney, and in particular King's Gross. In any case, I'm sure a lot of the immigrants are very nice people.' Mrs. Meredith shook her head despairingly. 'All those snakes—some deadly poisonous, and crocodiles in the far north. And what about the aborigines? In the Outback they're still very primitive, I believe.' Jenny slid aside her empty plate and placed a hand appealingly over her mother's. 'Jane has more than her share of common sense. She's mature and realistic, and knows what she wants from life. You can't blame her for that, or stop her from going to Australia if she's made up her mind that's what she wants to do. She's not flighty or promiscuous, and one day she'll make some man a grand wife.' She smiled gently into her mother's worried face. 'If she were a man, she'd be patted on the back and sent off in grand style to see the wonders of the world—but it's just as acceptable nowadays for girls to work their way around other countries. I'm not taking sides, with you or with Jane, but she's almost twenty years of age, and has been working for four years.' Mrs. Meredith's bottom lip trembled, and she hastily searched for a handkerchief in the depths of her apron pocket. 'I suppose you think I'm being selfish in trying to keep her here for another year?' she queried tearfully. Jenny patted her hand and touched the soft cheek fondly. 'No. The very last thing in this world you could ever be is selfish. I think it's just a bit difficult to bring yourself to admit that Jane is a young woman who's old enough to begin her life away from home. All chicks have to leave the nest some time,' she finished gently. Mrs. Meredith nodded, then blew her nose loudly and rose to her feet, briskly declaring a need for some nice hot coffee.

The sound of a car pulling into the drive and the slamming of doors heralded the arrival of Jane and her on-again, off-again boy friend, Bob. Jane had confided several months previously that Bob wanted to date steadily, but that she preferred a more platonic relationship. 'Jenny, you're looking terrific L' Jane hugged her ecstatically, her eyes dancing merrily. 'Has some crazily astute man discovered your hidden virtues and swept you off your feet?' 'Not likely,' Jenny replied with a grin, raising a hand in greeting to Bob in the background. 'I have no desire to be swept off my feet by any man, astute or otherwise, thank you very much!' 'Ahah,' Jane declared cheekily. 'If I didn't know you better, I'd be almost convinced you mean that What do you think, Bob?' Bob grinned sheepishly and responded charmingly. 'If I were five or six years older, I'd sweep her off her feet myself,' Jenny laughed out loud as Jane and her mother chuckled spontaneously. 'Such gallantry will get you a cup of coffee and at least two slices of Mother's chocolate cake,' Jenny twinkled kindly at him. 'Sit down, all of you. I'll make the supper,' she declared happily, and moved into the kitchen to heat the kettle without further ado. When she returned to the lounge with the loaded tea-wagon the film was just beginning, and she silently handed them each a cup of steaming coffee and motioned they should help themselves to the chocolate cake. Bob stood to his feet shortly after the film finished, declaring he must be on his way as he and Jane planned a day at the racecourse the following day. 'Jenny, you'll come too, won't you?' Jane asked, her face alight with pleasure. Jenny paused for a brief second, then shook her head slowly. 'No, thanks all the same. I probably won't be down again for several weeks, and in any case I've never been very interested in following race meetings.' Jane pursed her lips and glanced imperatively across to Bob. 'We're not going to allow you to sit at home the entire weekend, are we, Bob ? You must come out with us tomorrow evening, in that case. Bob's brother Ken and his fiancée are joining us, and Eloise and Jeremy are coming as well. Bob said earlier this evening that his father is expecting a guest down from Auckland for the weekend who's supposedly a swinging bachelor, It shouldn't be too difficult for Bob to persuade him to partner you. We're booked in for dinner at the Mount and then we're going on to a super beach-house party at Omanu,' she finished contentedly, her sparkling brown eyes almost daring Jenny not to fall in with her arrangements. 'Hey, steady on!' Jenny waved a hand in the air in admonition. 'I can't butt in on your plans,-and .in any case I don't exactly fancy another blind date.'

Jane took up the challenge with a gay laugh. 'Oh, Jenny, not Dianne and George again ?' Jenny wrinkled her nose expressively and owned that their mutual cousin and her husband had been up to their matchmaking tricks again for the third time in three weeks. Bob eyed the two sisters with affection. 'If you don't come, Jenny, your sweet sister will never let me hear the end of it!' Mrs. Meredith gave a satisfied sigh, replacing the slightly anxious frown with a relaxed smile. 'I'm so glad you'll go, Jenny dear,' she said with relief. 'Elvira Hamilton has reserved our usual tickets for the cinema tomorrow evening—Jane was so .emphatic you would be going with them.' Jenny cast Jane a dark look which was reciprocated by a brilliantly determined smile. 'That's all settled, then,' Jane declared happily, taking Bob's arm and leading him towards the hallway. As they left the room Jenny grimaced wryly, mentally viewing the following evening with mixed feelings. It would be the first occasion she was to mix socially in Tauranga without Max, and there were bound to be a few people at the party who knew of her recently broken engagement. In any case, there was a chance Bob's father's swinging bachelor guest might have other plans and decline to be included—or she could sunbathe on the beach all day and legitimately bow out owing to an overdose of the sun. It was rather a painful way to elude a party, but distinctly feasible! When Jane returned to the kitchen a short while later Jenny was drying the last of the supper dishes. 'Mother already in bed?' Jane queried as she locked the door behind her. 'Yes,' Jenny answered as she hung the tea-towel to air over the dishrack and then turned to her sister and questioned curiously. 'Who is this man staying with Bob's parents?' Jane shrugged complacently. 'I haven't a clue as to his name. I believe he's a distant relative of Bob's mother—a second cousin, or something like that, Bob will ask him first thing in the morning and then let me know when he calls for me.' She cast Jenny a speculative look as she leaned forward to examine the ring on Jenny's left hand. 'That's pretty—but why? A few hours in the sun will soon banish the paler skin beneath the ring. Quite frankly, I'm amazed you haven't tried to do so already.' Jenny pulled her hand away angrily. 'Mum will be playing bowls tomorrow unless I'm much mistaken, and you'll be away all day. I had planned on going to the beach.' Jane looked contrite as she squeezed Jenny's hand affectionately. 'Don't be so prickly, Jenny-wren. I for one think you've had a lucky escape. Max wasn't the right man for you.' She stifled a yawn, then stretched her arms high in the air. 'Ho-hum, I'm for bed. Coming?'

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays fingering the earth with its warmth, and the house became alive with the muted sounds of a transistor radio intermingled with the happy chatter of voices and the chinking of crockery. By the time Bob arrived to collect Jane, Mrs. Meredith had already departed for the bowling green and Jenny was filling a Thermos with coffee to take to the beach along with some sandwiches. On learning Bob had persuaded the family's guest to accompany Jenny that evening Jane threw her arms around his neck ecstatically. 'Lovely, lovely man!' she grinned, unabashed by his embarrassment that Jenny was standing close by. Loath to drive too far, Jenny settled for the stretch of sand near the Sixth Avenue camping grounds, and found a comparatively quiet secluded area in which to sunbathe. It was a lovely day, the sun warm on her exposed limbs, and a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the large spreading pohutakawa tree. The distant cries of children at play drifted towards her, to be joined by the muted tones of a nearby transistor radio. She closed her eyes and pursued the absorbing thought of what she would wear that evening. There was that rather daring gold silk-knit jersey dress still hanging in her wardrobe. Bare-backed, with a halter-neck that gave the illusion of revealing more than it concealed, it had definitely been one of her 'mad' purchases. Max had never seen it, but if he had he would probably have refused to let her wear it. Perfectly all right on another girl, but not 'his' girl. Well, she was no longer 'his' girl, and she would wear what she darned well pleased! The gold silk-knit jersey dress it would be!

Although Jenny knew she did the dress justice, she was inclined to ignore Jane's drawn-out whistle of approval as they put the finishing touches Jo their make-up a few minutes before seven that evening. The dress was fantastic, and there was nothing wrong with her figure either, but somehow the combination belied her true personality, and she was on the verge of changing the dress for something else when a car pulled into the driveway and slid to a halt. She cast an anxious glance towards her sister and Jane gave her a bright smile, then tugged her towards the front door, murmuring something indistinctly about 'drinks'. Bob greeted both girls warmly and moved aside to introduce his companion. Jenny saw him clearly, and took a step backwards as none other than Zachary Benedict moved into the hallway. Jenny's eyes seemed to fuse with his for an infinitesimal second, and she fought desperately to gather her startled wits together. 'We have met,' Zachary gleamed down in amusement, 'haven't we, Jenny ?' 'Yes—in Auckland,' Jenny managed, albeit calmly, conscious of both Jane and Bob eyeing her a trifle curiously. 'We share the same office building,' Zachary drawled informatively as he followed Bob into the Merediths' lounge.

'That is a great coincidence,' Jane smiled with delight as she shot Jenny a speculative glance. 'How terrific that you both know each other. We've had to do a lot of persuading to talk Jenny into coming tonight—she has an aversion to blind-dating,' she twinkled across at Zachary, utterly captivated by the warmth of his answering smile. 'Would you like something to drink before we go?' Jenny asked politely, swivelling her glance from Bob to Zachary. 'Mother always keeps something on hand— sherry for her women friends; gin, vermouth and whisky for the men.' 'Bob always has vermouth, so I'll fix his usual potion,' Jane smiled companionably. 'Jenny can attend to your needs,' she grinned across at Zachary. 'If you dare, Zachary Benedict, to comment cynically on that remark!' Jenny mentally reproved him as she glared down at the tray of glasses, her shoulders tensing as she waited with bated breath for him to make a mocking remark to Jane's careless phrasing. 'A light whisky—heavy on the ice and water,' Zachary requested mildly, but there was an underlying hint of humour in his voice that assured her he knew the direction of her thoughts. Jenny tried to ignore the dark speculative gleam he slanted down at her as she handed him the glass a few seconds later. She felt as nervous as a kitten—tongue-tied and as shy as a gauche young schoolgirl at her first party. This would never do! The very last thing she wanted to convey was that this man's considerable charm was having the desired effect upon her. 'I presume Bob has told you that we are all going on to a party after dinner,' Jane stated conversationally to Zachary. 'Eloise—you'll meet her along with fiancé Jeremy at the restaurant—her sister has this fabulous beach-house at Omanu, and tonight she's giving a welcome-home party for her boy-friend. He's been in South Africa building bridges for the past year,' she enlightened attentively. Jenny sipped her sherry slowly and with care, for she was consciously aware of every single action her body made and it seemed vitally essential to concentrate on what she was doing. Oh, whatever was the matter with her? she chided herself crossly. They left the house a short while later, covering the miles swiftly in Zachary's Mercedes-Benz, and by the time they were seated in the restaurant at the large table with the rest of their party Jenny was beginning to feel slightly more at ease. The conversation between the four couples was lighthearted and communicative, and throughout the meal Zachary was solicitously attentive, raising an eyebrow in silent query when she shook her head repeatedly over the state of her wine-glass. Somehow she felt a desperate need to call on all her faculties for the remainder of the evening, and a head slightly muzzy from too much wine would hardly be conducive to clear and rational thinking! Shortly before ten o'clock they vacated the restaurant and made their way along to Omanu where the party was already in full swing, if judging the number of cars parked on the lawn and down the driveway was any indication. It was a huge sprawling affair with people seemingly everywhere—the lounge was crowded, as was the dining-room, the hallway and the large terrace overlooking the ocean.

Music echoed around the house from several strategically placed speakers—the neighbours were all here, so the noise didn't matter, Eloise's sister Mary-Ellen had laughingly remarked on their arrival. For a while they mingled together, drinking and trying to converse in competition with the music, but gradually the other three couples drifted off and Jenny and Zachary were left to mingle with the other guests or dance. Zachary seemed idly fascinated by the contents of Jenny's glass, for he watched her slowly sip until the last drop was gone—then without a word he placed both of their glasses on to a nearby table and drew her into his arms; In the crowded lounge with the lights switched down to reveal a muted smoky glow in which it was just possible to see who was who, dancing to slow sensuous music and held closely against his hard-muscled frame, Jenny mused idly that she must easily be the most envied girl in the entire room. 'You find something amusing?' Zachary asked quietly, and she felt his warm breath stir a few strands of hair at her temple. She lifted her head and gazed straight into his eyes, and managed a light seemingly irrepressible laugh. 'I doubt if you would think it so,' she replied with an attempt at coquetry. His eyes swept intimately over her face, leisurely examining its contours before coming to rest at her mouth. 'I much prefer the real Jenny-wren,' he declared wryly, and shook his head slowly. 'How can you possibly profess to even begin to know the real me?' Jenny challenged indignantly, her eyes snapping dangerously as she rose to his baited comment. 'You're acting out a charade at the moment, my dear Jenny,' Zachary intoned softly, and his fingers tightened on her arms as she endeavoured to step away from him. 'I am not your dear Jenny!' she hissed at him angrily, unaccountably enraged. 'So you've said before, I believe,' he drawled deeply, his hands moving to her waist as he drew her close against him. Jenny struggled futilely, trying unsuccessfully to push against his chest to effect leverage on the hard strength of his grasp. 'Let me go!' she muttered through clenched teeth, and contemplated resorting to childish tricks like stamping on his toes, pulling his hair if she could reach it—or perhaps both! 'I shouldn't, if I were you,' he cautioned softly, tantalisingly caressing her brow with his lips. Jenny shook her head from side to side with quick angry movements, and beat a fist against his chest. 'I hate you, Zachary Benedict!' she burst out in a furious undertone. Zachary's eyes hardened and she almost gasped out loud as his arms tightened with a painful intensity, 'You have nothing to hate me for—yet,' he threatened ruthlessly.

Jenny wrestled impatiently, her face a veritable mask of ill-concealed fury. 'If you don't let me go immediately,' she threatened, 'I—I'll—' 'It's clearly time some man took you severely in hand, Jenny Meredith,' he drawled sombrely, holding her effortlessly and thwarted her attempts to escape with ease. 'Well, it won't be you!' Jenny bit out childishly as she felt her face become flushed with fruitless exertion. 'No?' he teased thoughtfully with a questioning lift of one eyebrow. 'It might present a challenge to tame that look of outrage into one of soft and willing submission.' Jenny threw him a look of intense dislike, her eyes bright with unshed tears. 'I don't know what you're trying to achieve,' she began angrily, and her eyes unconsciously slid away from his dark compelling gaze. 'Perhaps not,' he affirmed curtly, and eased his grip slightly, then sighed deeply as a smile tugged attractively at the corners of his mouth. 'Pax, Jenny Meredith—if only for this evening?' he suggested, his tone lightly bantering. Jenny shot him a questioning glance from beneath her lashes. 'I have no wish to repeat this—this disaster of an evening!' she declared ruefully, her head held high to meet his gaze. For several long seconds he simply looked down into her upturned face, his eyes narrowing and darkening with concealed anger. In the semi-darkness of the dimly lit room the dreamy lilt of a haunting melody drifted softly above the muted chatter. Some couples were drifting close together, moving slightly swaying in time with the music. Others, heads close, appeared lost in a world of their own. Jenny was suddenly totally unaware of the people around her. Her eyes were held, locked to those dark, almost black eyes several inches above her own. With slow deliberation he caught her body close in against his, moving a hand to hold fast her head at the nape as he lowered his head down to hers. She opened her mouth to remonstrate with him, but her words were lost. His lips were hard and ruthlessly merciless, intent on extracting their punishment, and forced tears to her eyes. When he lifted his head she was so wrung out with spent emotion she almost fell when he released her from his grasp. Her eyes were large dark pools mirroring hurt and humiliation and for seemingly endless seconds she could not tear her eyes away from his. The need to get away—out from the noisy, dimly lit, smoke-filled room—was paramount. Jenny turned and fled, seeking the stairway from the terrace down on to the sand, uncaring of the damage the sand might have on her elegant evening sandals as she ran down towards the sea. After several steps she paused as she almost tripped, and unsteadily removed her sandals, then walked the rest of the way to the water's edge carrying her sandals in her hand. There was a moon, its shadow reflected on the softly swelling tide, and it was heaven to feel the coolness of the night against her skin after the heat

inside the house, And Zachary Benedict's punishing anger! Jenny blushed with shame. What on earth had driven her to provoke him to such an extent? She lifted shaking fingers to her bruised lips as she stared sightlessly out towards the horizon. What was this thing within her that longed to lash out and hurt—to say things she had no intention of uttering? Tears trickled down her cheeks. What was she doing at this party ? She must have been mad to have consented to come tonight —especially with Zachary Benedict! There was something about the man that got under her skin, and it seemed almost as if some unseen force were thrusting them together. Oh, if only she could escape and go home! 'Do you intend staying out here for the remainder of the evening?' Zachary Benedict's voice queried quietly from behind her. Startled, Jenny turned slightly, then remembering the tears still wet on her cheeks she turned back to gaze along the shore. Silently she moved away and walked slowly with head downbent, catching at her gown to lift it slightly as the cool sea ran gently into foam softly around her bare feet, aware that he was walking beside her a few feet away. 'Why did you follow me?' Jenny asked after a long silence, when only the distant sound of party merriment and the soft rhythmically swelling surf could be heard. 'Partly because if I hadn't, some not-so-sober male might have done so—in that gown who could blame him for thinking his amorous attentions might be welcome?' Zachary offered, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. With a sigh Jenny stepped away from the water on to softer sand and turned to gaze out across the sea. It seemed so peaceful standing out here—the tranquil simplicity of the scene seemed to lend an inner peace of mind, washing away the cares of a day-to-day world like the tide that had swirled and eddied at her feet. Jenny sensed rather than heard Zachary move to stand close behind her and the clean male smell of him mingled with the spicy tang of aftershave and a faint lingering aroma of cigar smoke. His hands were firm and his touch surprisingly gentle as he turned her round to face him. She looked up at him wordlessly, trying to summon her wits together in an attempt to utter a few banal words. He stepped closer, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he lifted her face. 'You're an exceedingly prickly young woman, Jenny Meredith. I wonder why?' he queried gently as he bent his head down to hers. Gently his lips caressed hers, sensing the trembling softness, and she felt his arms gathering her close to him. Against her will she began to respond, her lips moving treacherously against his. She felt rather than heard his quick intake of breath, then his lips were moving with a sensuous expertise which rendered her breathless. It made any past embrace a mockery—a mere nothing to what this man could demonstrate. From afar she felt herself slipping into a sweet dark oblivion where inertia claimed her limbs and rendered her incapable of thinking clearly. It was like

coming home after a long and stormy voyage, his arms the haven. Time had no meaning, and she was totally unaware of anything other than the rapture of the moment until warning bells began to clamour inside her head as she remembered who she was kissing with such passion. She began to struggle in an attempt to pull free of his embrace, hot waves of embarrassment and shame colouring her cheeks. Zachary released her gently and in the moonlight seemed to tower over her. Jenny could think of nothing coherent to say as her bosom heaved with the raggedness of her breathing. 'Don't fight it, Jenny-wren.' Zachary's voice, warm and deep, sounded strangely far away to her ears, and she didn't possess the will to resist the pressure of his fingers as he lifted her chin. 'It will be a sheer waste of time,' he allowed with a slight smile, and his expression softened at her air of bewilderment. 'I—I'm—' Jenny began in hesitant confusion, but her words were stilled as Zachary placed a finder gently against her lips. 'No explanations are necessary, Jenny,' he said quietly. CHAPTER 4

The following day Jenny could recall vividly the remaining few hours spent inside the beach-house after she and Zachary returned. She was aware of a few curious glances cast in their direction, and Jane's slightly raised eyebrows quickly followed by a secret smile. Jenny had become bemused, as occasionally when she dared to meet Zachary's eyes the message in their depths appeared so profound that she became afraid of attempting to define it. Despite her half-hearted protests, she found herself agreeing to postpone driving back to Auckland the following afternoon as planned so that she could go with Jane and Bob on Bob's father's fishing launch. A barbecue on the beach on their return was intended to round off the day, and Jenny dismissed as pure fantasy the notion that she was accepting only because Zachary would be there. She awoke shortly before breakfast after a restless few hours spent tossing and turning in her bed, so that consequently she developed a throbbing head within minutes of rising. The more she thought about Zachary Benedict, the more she was convinced the sensible thing to do was to use any excuse not to see him again. To succumb to his fatal charm would be akin to dicing with dynamite! Her emotions had taken a severe tumble only five weeks previously, and here she was about to begin something which could only end in disaster. She needed her head examined, she thought crossly, pushing clothes into a suitcase with little regard for neatness. What had he said last night? 'It might

present a challenge to tame that look of outrage into one of soft and willing submission.' Really! The conceit of the man was positively galling. Well, she would show him she would never submit, and what was more, he could darned well seek a challenge elsewhere! 'What are you doing, for heaven's sake?' Jane's voice enquired incredulously from the doorway. Jenny gathered fresh underwear and her brunch-coat, her face set in angry lines as she turned towards her sister. 'I can't think why I agreed to go today, really I can't. I don't particularly like fishing, and the thought of a whole day in that—that man Benedict's company is just —much too much!' she declared vehemently. 'I came down here to see Mother, and I've hardly seen her at all. I've been dragged into no end of social jaunts by you— none willingly, I might add, when all I wanted was a quiet weekend! Why can't you all leave me alone!' 'Hey, what's this all about? Simmer down, Jenny.' Jane cast a worried look in Jenny's direction and moved to sit at the end of the bed. Jenny gave a long-drawn-out sigh,- giving her sister an apologetic glance as she sank down on to the bed's edge. 'It's just me, Jane,' she began broodingly. 'It seems that everywhere I go there's some well-meaning relative or friend bent on rushing me into evening up the numbers for dinner or some party—subtle matchmaking that doesn't fool anyone, least of all me!' Jane remained silent, her expression pensive as she recalled Jenny's hurried absence from the beach-house lounge the previous evening, and she could not forget her sister's face when she returned with none other than the most fascinating man there, nor that she had looked thoroughly kissed and appeared totally bemused by the experience. Well, perhaps it was best to let things take their own course, after all. 'Why don't you suggest to Mother that you'll take her to Aunt Madge's for the day? You know she doesn't often get the chance, and you can easily drive on to Auckland whenever you feel like it after lunch. Claude-lands is so peaceful, especially out there on the farm,' Jane enthused, pleased with herself for thinking up such a satisfactory solution. 'You know how much you love animals, and at this time of year there'll be lots of littlies about.' Jenny managed a slight smile and felt contrite. How to explain that she, Jenny Meredith, who up until one week ago had sworn never to become involved with men ever again, had come up against a man whose magnetic charm, his very dynamic masculinity had knocked her equilibrium awry and sent it whirling out of sight. She had to forgo today's launch trip for the sake of her sanity, if nothing else.

'Please, Jane,' she nodded her acceptance, standing to her feet in one supple movement. 'You put it to Mother while I shower. I want to leave as soon as possible whether she wants to come or not.' 'Right,' Jane averred briskly. 'I'll organise things—I think there's a bus leaving Hamilton around six on Sunday evenings. I'll find out for sure, anyway.' Well, Jenny contemplated wryly, that should take care of that. A glance at her watch showed they had barely an hour before Bob and Zachary were due to arrive, and she simply had to be away before then.. Mrs. Meredith looked slightly baffled as she was hurried through her breakfast and practically bundled into Jenny's car in the space of a very short time. Sagely she sought not to question the whys and wherefores of her daughters' actions, not doubting for a minute that there must be good reason behind it all. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief as she headed the car towards the Kaimai Ranges, thankful that they had managed to get away before Bob and Zachary could arrive. As they left the township behind and reached relatively open country, Jenny began to feel more relaxed and took the opportunity of admiring the neatly fenced paddocks and the gently sloping green-grassed hills. The heat of the day had not yet begun to make itself felt, and the air was fresh and clean. How lovely it would be just to climb the grassy banks and sit high on a hill remote from the pressures and cares of an everyday world to view the tranquil stock grazing below and attempt to bring ease to her troubled mind. She sensed rather than saw her mother's slightly nervous fingers grip the strap of her handbag, and heeding the gesture eased her foot off the accelerator so that the car was no longer hurtling along as if any number of demons were iii pursuit. She was grateful for her mother's silence, her instinctive perception that now was not the time to voice curiosity over their hurried departure. Aunt Madge gave them an enthusiastic welcome, fussing over them both outrageously, and after a decent interval Jenny felt bound to escape outdoors, leaving the two sisters to gossip unashamedly. Restlessly she wandered towards the white-painted wooden paling that separated the few acres on which the homestead stood from the considerable acreage of farming land stretching almost as far as the eye could see. Uncle Dan had spent many years moulding the farm into a showplace of which he was justly proud, putting money into only the best equipment and livestock. Jenny had fond memories of happy vacations here during her schooldays—wonderful carefree days when there seemed not an emotional cloud on the horizon. In the distance several chains of poplar trees reached tall towards the azure sky, visually striking before the sun's bright rays. Jenny stood there for quite a time, savouring the sweet country air. It was so peaceful— possible almost to forget the hard strength of the arms that had held her not twelve hours before. She shivered and bit into the Soft fullness of her lip as the memory of his sensual expertise

returned—moreover, the treacherous longing his touch evoked both frightened and bewildered her. With sudden irritation she moved away, stepping briskly back towards the house and the necessary oblivion from such thoughts as she determinedly assisted Aunt Madge in the kitchen. The meal was a typical country Sunday midday dinner. Roast lamb with mint sauce, roasted golden-brown potatoes kumera and pumpkin, silverbeet and cauliflower, lavishly served with a rich-brown smooth thick gravy. Apple crumble with farm-fresh whipped cream followed, and Aunt Madge smiled in satisfaction as they sat back from the table fully replete. Uncle Dan cast his wife a loving look as he complimented her cooking, his bright blue eyes alive and sparkling in. a weatherbeaten laughter-wrinkled face. He was a big man, tall, and to Jenny he had always been someone special and she loved him unashamedly. He smiled at her now, a slow curiously gentle smile, his eyes warm with affection. 'How goes it in Auckland, Jenny?' 'I like it,' answered honestly, her wide mouth curving upwards to show sparkling white teeth. 'We're due there at the end of the week. Might stay overnight—let Aunt Madge loose in all those shops,' he paused to shoot Aunt Madge a devilish grin. 'We'll take you to dinner, so make sure you write down your telephone number before you leave.' 'You're on!' Jenny laughed companionably, leaning forward to place both elbows on the table. 'Why don't you stay at the flat? It's big enough—really. Oh, please say that you will?' she encouraged them both, but they demurred kindly, explaining they preferred to stay in one of the inner city hotels. It saved Uncle Dan using the car, for he disliked city traffic with the usual country-man's wariness and found parking facilities impossible. Jenny took her leave shortly after three o'clock, driving swiftly towards Auckland, and as she reached the outer townships prior to the southern motorway the traffic began to build up considerably. Surprisingly it was almost six o'clock before she turned into the driveway leading to her flat, and after a quick cup of coffee and a sandwich she cleaned and tidied with a will, pleased with the result before falling into bed pleasantly exhausted.

Monday was entirely uneventful despite Jenny's premonition that she was bound to catch sight of Zachary Benedict at some stage during the day, and it was with relief that she placed her key into the front door of the flat that evening without having caught so much as a glimpse of him. Paradoxically she was disappointed, although any thought of a confrontation between them tended to set her pulse racing and her stomach to cud rather alarmingly. Jenny was half-way through eating scrambled eggs on toast when the telephone rang, and her surprise was very real as Jane's voice greeted her cheerfully. 'Jane? Good heavens, is something wrong?' she queried anxiously.

'Not a thing, Jenny,' her sister answered blithely. 'I just thought I'd let you know that Bob is coming to Auckland tomorrow on business and will be at a loose end during the evening. I suggested he contact you, and perhaps the two of you could go out somewhere.' There was silence for a few seconds as Jane waited for Jenny to answer. 'Jenny ? You don't mind, do you?' 'No, of course not. In fact, I'd be delighted,' Jenny managed kindly. 'He can ring me at the office sometime during the day. Just a minute, and I'll check the number,' Jenny instructed, reaching for the telephone book in the drawer beside the phone. Flipping through the pages, she found the number and repeated it to Jane. 'Okay, I've got that down. He's catching the early morning flight, Jenny, so he could ring you from the Airport. Oh, and by the way, I didn't get a chance to tell you over the weekend, but I've got my airline ticket for Australia? We fly out to Sydney in just over three weeks, but I'll be in Auckland for a few days before that as I have some shopping to do. I'll stay with you, of course, and Bob is going to bring Mother up the day before we leave. I don't suppose you could manage to put Sue and Emma up for the .night as well? They were planning on staying at a motel, but it would be so much easier if we were all together. Would it be too much, do you think?' Jenny grinned to herself—trust Jane to have everything organised! 'That's fine, just let me know when,' she answered happily, then voiced the question that had been at the back of her mind for the past few minutes. 'Did you all have an enjoyable day yesterday?' Jane chuckled, her voice bubbling with laughter as she answered. 'I thought you'd never ask! Yes, we did as a matter of fact. Zachary Benedict enquired where you were and subjected me to an unwavering stare as I answered him. I felt as if I was under oath on the witness stand! Actually, I rather think he fancies you. He very cleverly managed to charm me into talking about the family, and I'm afraid I did mention a bit about you and Max.' Jane's voice faltered, and Jenny drew breath sharply, feeling unaccountably annoyed. 'Jane! You didn't!' she exclaimed angrily. 'Oh, Jenny, he could just as easily have found out by questioning Bob or any one of Bob's family,' Jane answered defensively. 'Anyway, I can't see why you're so het up about it!' Jenny sighed heavily. 'All right, Jane. It's done now.' 'Look, I must go, Jenny. I'm off to the cinema with Sue and Emma. Mother sends her love. Enjoy yourself tomorrow night with Bob. 'Bye,' Jane finished quickly, hanging up before Jenny had a chance to say anything further. Bob rang shortly before lunch and left a message with Suzy to the effect that he had been given tickets for the cinema that evening and would call for Jenny at the flat at seven o'clock. Jenny smiled gratefully, for it was turning out to be 'one of those mornings' that threatened to carry on right through

the day. She had spent over an hour taking dictation, and as Lise was away Jenny had two dictaphone tapes to get through as well as two. lengthy Supreme Court documents. In spite of working through her lunch-hour with barely ten minutes' break for a sandwich and coffee, Jenny didn't finish at the office until just after six that evening. Consequently when Bob arrived she was still dressing, and of necessity he had to wait almost ten minutes before she emerged into the lounge somewhat flustered and hungry. Her dismay was evident when she found he had come by taxi and had kept it waiting without telling her! Heavens, it will cost him a fortune, she thought crossly, feeling uncharitable because she hadn't had time to eat so much as a slice of bread to assuage her appetite. The jade green skirt of polyester crepe flowed in generous folds to her sandalled feet, and as the evenings were still cool in mid-November she had chosen to wear a white short-sleeved skinny-rib knit jumper with three jade green buttons at the centre, of the scooped neckline and at .the sleeves, draping about her shoulders a lacy white shawl for added warmth. There had been little time to do much with her hair other than brush it vigorously and twist it into a french knot at her nape, and her make-up was barely minimal with just a touch of eyeshadow and eye-liner, a quick upward swirl of the mascara brush to her eyelashes and a light smear of lipstick to her lips. Jenny had an aversion to heavy make-up, but preferred more than a rushed five minutes to apply what cosmetics she did use! The taxi let them off in front of the cinema entrance in Queen Street, and they were seated with few minutes to spare before the curtain rose. Ten minutes went by before Jenny become aware that the seat next to her on the aisle was still empty. It was unusual, for the film was a particularly good one and at a casual glance the cinema appeared seated to capacity. At that precise moment she caught sight of a tall dark-suited figure moving unobtrusively towards them, and seconds later fold a lengthy frame into the seat at her side. 'My apologies for being late,' a deep voice murmured close to her ear and, startled, Jenny turned to meet Zachary Benedict's complacent gaze. Jenny felt her colour deepening and was glad of the darkened cinema. 'I wasn't aware that you were coming,' she managed calmly, sensibly trying to ignore the curling sensation deep inside her at his nearness. 'Judging by your voice,' he stated in a dry undertone, 'perhaps it's just as well.' With commendable restraint Jenny refrained from offering any comment, and sat stiffly with her eyes fixed to the screen. Try as she might she could not concentrate, and much of the dialogue escaped her. Every nerve-end tingled and she found great difficulty in controlling her breathing. With every passing minute she became more certain the entire evening had been a conspiracy against her, and inwardly she began to seethe at the arrogance of the man. As the lights flickered on at the interval she readily stood to her feet at the suggestion that she might prefer to join both men as they smoked in the foyer.

The steady stream of slowly moving patrons gradually filled the foyer, and soon the smoke-filled air hung heavily in the confined space. Jenny began to feel decidedly lightheaded and tiny beads of sweat began to prick her upper lip. Rather desperately she took a deep breath and willed herself not to faint just as a jostling figure caught her off balance and thrust her sideways. The last thing she remembered was Zachary's startled exclamation and the saving grip of his hands on her upper arms barely a second before she fell. Her eyes lifted and met his ,dark incredibly anxious gaze before sliding away as she struggled to free herself from his hold. 'Stay still for a few minutes. You look ready to black out,' Zachary bade her curtly, forcibly restraining her as his eyes raked her features mercilessly. 'Dinner—you obviously missed out on that meal. Why?' Jenny shook her head, feeling slightly dazed. 'There wasn't time,' she murmured indistinctly, conscious of a feeling of unreality. 'Lunch?' he queried relentlessly, his face an implacable mask. 'Lise was away. There was so much to do that I worked through until after six. I had coffee and a sandwich, and I did have breakfast.' Zachary made an unintelligible comment, then commented dryly, 'It's little girls like you who need protection from themselves.' Jenny smiled, faintly bemused. 'I thought that was meant to be—"little girls like you ought to be at home tucked safely in bed".' 'That, too, Jenny Meredith,' he drawled, and his dark eyes gleamed with devilish laughter. A blush coloured her cheeks, tinging them a delicate rose-pink as she struggled to free herself. 'Stay there,' he instructed firmly. 'In a few minutes the foyer will empty and I'll take you to a nearby restaurant, and,' he raised a hand in admonishment, his expression compelling, 'if you so much as demur, I will carry you there, is that understood?' He would too, Jenny thought wryly, with an arrogance that would quail all who might look askance of his action. In all ways he was a law unto himself! 'Bob?' Zachary quirked an enquiring eyebrow towards the younger man, and Jenny cast Bob a pleading glance as she silently begged him to accompany them. 'Well, perhaps I should,' Bob began hesitantly, shooting Jenny an apologetic look, 'I feel all kinds of a heel for not asking whether you'd had dinner or not. I just assumed—' 'Obviously,' Zachary interrupted dryly. 'For future reference, never assume anything with regard to women —they're a contrary species at best,' he concluded enigmatically.

The cool night air outside the cinema was blessedly refreshing, and Jenny enjoyed the short walk to the restaurant. The firm clasping arm about her waist was solely a protective gesture on Zachary's part—at least that was what Jenny sternly sought to convince herself. To lend it any other reason was something she didn't want to even think about! In an incredibly short time a meal was placed before Jenny, and it was accompanied by a bottle of wine—-a light rose. Lovely! Much to her relief, Zachary chose to exclude her from the conversation and she was able to devote all her attention to the food on her plate. There was a cabaret and a very small dance-floor, but the ,two men seemed disinclined to dance, and Jenny felt the pangs of disappointment stir idly inside her. Contrarily she blamed the wine she had consumed for the strange longing to be held close in Zachary's arms. A little of what she was feeling must have been apparent, for as she removed her gaze from the guest singer her eyes met the subject of her thoughts, and for a startled moment their eyes locked and held. There was a warmth in his, a momentary flaring of something she daren't define, for it seemed so incredible she thought she must have imagined it. She felt inordinately vulnerable, as if he must surely have read her thoughts, and miserably she fancied his amusement that yet another female had succumbed to his, magnetic charm. Her plight was further enhanced a few moments later when a young attractive woman approached their table and greeted Zachary with all the effusiveness of a very close friend. That there was a certain amount of affection reciprocated caused Jenny pangs of jealousy such as she had never before experienced. She sat there, quiet and rather withdrawn, wishing with all her heart that she had never met Zachary Lucien Benedict, and hating the, weakness of allowing herself to think that he could possibly possess any affection for her. How absurd! She simply would not be an addition to his number of female conquests. They left shortly before midnight, and much to Jenny's consternation Zachary chose to drop Bob off at his motel before delivering her home. She had her door-key ready and a few polite words on the tip of her tongue as soon as the car crunched to a halt in her driveway, but she had no chance to utter them. 'What now?' Zachary questioned inexorably, his fingers snapping off the ignition with every pretence of suppressed anger. Jenny stared straight ahead, resolutely determined not to look at him and tried to ignore the tension knotting in her stomach. 'I haven't the slightest idea of what you mean,' she said stiffly. 'No? You surprise me,' he drawled wryly, shifting position so that he leaned towards her. 'You seem to derive a certain amount of sadistic pleasure in deliberately baiting me, Mr. Benedict,' Jenny snapped crossly. 'I can only suppose it's due to my not being one of the worshipping female herd who hang on to your every word.'

There was a tense silence during which she unconsciously held her breath, and she bit her lip seconds later in startled surprise when she. realized that the key she held had absentmindedly been rubbing against her finger and had scratched the surface skin. 'You make it sound as if I'm some kind of feudal Sheik with a large harem,' he mocked, and there was a dangerous glint in the depths of his dark eyes. 'From all accounts that would be comparable,' she answered coldly. Zachary appeared to smile rather grimly, and Jenny caught a quick flash of white teeth as he spoke; 'Ah, I wondered if the secretarial grapevine hadn't been overly industrious of late,' he commented cynically. 'And having recently escaped from one apparently disastrous affair you're extremely wary of emerging out from that protective shell in which you've hidden your- . self.' Jenny clenched her fists angrily and longed to lash out at him physically. 'That's a cruel thing to say,' she managed at last in a tight, cold little voice. 'An unwanted truth is invariably cruel,' he assented mildly. At that moment Jenny hated him. 'I'm totally immune to your so-called charm, Mr. Benedict, and I have no intention of becoming yet another scalp in your transitory collection.' 'My, my,' Zachary drawled sardonically. 'You're a perverse little baggage, Jenny Meredith. Did—what was his name—Max? Did Max never tell you that you loss like an angel ? Or perhaps he was too young and foolish to recognize a warm and wonderfully feminine female when he saw one?' Jenny opened her mouth in startled surprise. Did he really think of her like that—or was it one of his devious ways to reader her malleable? 'Whatever happened between Max and me is none of your business,' she managed after a long silence, and her voice sounded stilted and slightly remote even to her own ears. 'Oh, Jenny,' he mocked gently, 'I'm not a callow youth to be so easily fooled.' 'No one could doubt that,' she was stung into retorting. 'I wish you'd just leave me alone. I find your attentions distasteful, and I—I can assure you they—they're—' she stumbled to a halt, her words incoherent through a blur of tears as she fumbled for the door catch. Once out of the car she ran the short distance to the front door and searched frantically for her key. Oh, what had she done with it ? The stupid elusive thing! The tears were trickling down her cheeks and she brushed at them angrily with the back of her hand. 'Is this what you're looking for?' she heard Zachary's voice strangely quiet beside her, and a key was put in the lock as he opened the door and propelled her inside.

The light-switch clicked on and Jenny made to dash into the bathroom. Hard hands caught at her shoulders halting her flight, and he firmly turned her round to face him. Determinedly she stared straight ahead at the neat knot of his black tie and desperately willed the flow of tears to cease. What a fool she was making of herself! She felt her bottom lip tremble, and anxiously she caught at it with her teeth. There must be something wrong with her, for all she wanted to do was to cry and cry until she couldn't cry any more! She raised one hand a little, then, defeated that there was nothing she could offer by way of explanation, let her hand fall to her side. Zachary uttered a brief imprecation as he drew her into his arms and pressed her face against his chest. His fingers threaded themselves through her hair as he held her, and once she thought she felt his lips touch her forehead, but it was so fleeting she thought she must-have imagined it. How long she remained like that she was unable to judge, but eventually the emotional outburst slowed and finally ceased. It was almost heaven to rest there against him, and she was loath to move away from the sanctuary his encircling arms offered. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured indistinctly, at last attempting to free herself. He didn't comment, and with thumb and forefinger he lifted her chin until she was forced to meet his eyes. Dark eyes that held gentleness and a hint of some other emotion as his head bent down to hers. . Jenny's heart lurched as his lips caressed her cheek, her eyes, touched on the tip of her nose before trailing across to tease the lobe of her ear. When at last he claimed her mouth she was lost as she had known she would be, her lips parting beneath the insistent pressure. His kiss seemed to last for ever, and when he lifted his head she could have cried out and wanted only to reach up to draw his face down again to hers. Gently he traced a finger along her jawline and outlined the pattern of her mouth. 'No more pretence?' Jenny slowly shook her head. 'Are you still convinced I aim to add your scalp to my so-called collection?' Zachary questioned quietly with more than a hint of sternness. Jenny looked at him curiously, trying to fathom his expression, but it was unreadable. 'I don't really know,' she answered honestly. 'I'm giving a party at my home on Friday evening,' he told her thoughtfully, his eyes examining her face intently. 'Will you come?' 'I'm sorry, but I can't,' she shook her head regretfully, unsure of her emotions. 'Is that a polite way of saying you are too afraid to come?' he queried wryly, and placed his hands possessively at her waist.

Jenny felt her stomach somersault crazily as he drew her close and slid his hands up. to fasten on her shoulders. She felt his warm breath fan her cheeks as he bent down and began to caress her neck with his lips, trailing up over her cheek to her eyelids which he kissed lingeringly. 'I've accepted an invitation to dinner,' she managed on a slightly strangled note, as her breathing began behaving in a most chaotic fashion. 'Cancel it,' Zachary commanded softly, fastening his mouth on hers demandingly as if he was hungry for her kisses. When at last he lifted his head her lips felt bruised and trembled slightly, and it was some seconds before she realized she was still gripping his shoulders. A blush stole over her cheeks and she hurriedly withdrew her hands down to her sides. 'Well ?' There was a slight smile tugging the corners of his mouth, and as she glanced quickly up at him there was a curiously tender expression on his face. 'I can't—I'm sorry. My aunt and uncle are visiting Auckland and intend staying overnight. They've asked me to have dinner with them and they'd be very disappointed if I turned them down.' 'Are they staying here at the flat?' Jenny shook her head. 'Will you ring me as soon as you get home?' he asked insistently. 'I'll come and collect you.' She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes wide with incredulity. 'At eleven or twelve o'clock at night?' Zachary smiled a little, his eyes agleam with amusement. 'Why not ? Most parties don't get under way until then.' 'I'm not sure. It's—' she began doubtfully. 'If you don't ring me by midnight, I'll arrive and drag you from your bed by your long silken tresses,' he threatened quietly, adding, 'You'd better bring something in the way of swimming apparel, as I have a pool.' Jenny flashed him an anxious look from beneath her long darkly-fringed lashes. 'You wouldn't dare!' she expostulated. 'No?' he answered mockingly. 'And take that look of anxiety from your face. I don't organize parties that include nude bathing.' Jenny almost choked, then was mortified as she felt a telling blush colour her throat and cheeks, and desperately she cast her eyes away from his all too discerning scrutiny. 'Is that also included in my so-called repertoire of rakish misdeeds? Come,' he drawled dangerously, 'pray enlighten me.'

'I—I didn't say that,' she stammered, unashamedly embarrassed. He looked down at her wryly. 'My dear Jenny, you didn't need to—your expression said it for you.' Shakily she turned away from him. She felt overwhelmingly tired and completely topsy-turvy emotionally. 'I think you'd better go,' she said with as much dignity as she could muster. 'If I don't,' Zachary's voice threatened softly from behind, 'I'll probably do something regrettable.' Jenny felt herself begin to tremble uncontrollably, and despite her attempts to blink them back the tears rolled slowly down to her chin. There was an odd, almost tense silence in the room, and when he spoke his voice was incredibly bleak. 'If you're crying—so help me, I'll spank you,' he uttered with barely leashed wrath. That was as much as she could bearably take, and with a choked sob she ran to her room and slammed the door behind her, leaning against it as she breathed in great gulps of air as if she had just run a mile. 'Jenny ?' She heard him call in a voice that was almost savage in its intensity, and she was sure that any minute he would force open the door. 'Go away. Please—just go away,' Jenny beseeched. . There was a few minutes' silence when her own breathing sounded so loud to her ears she felt sure he must hear it also. A slight sound alerted her, and she sensed rather than heard him cross the carpeted floor, then the front door clicked shut and a few seconds later his car sprang to life to purr down the driveway. Jenny stood leaning against the door for a long time, too emotionally drained to spare the effort necessary to switch off the lights and get ready for bed. CHAPTER 5

Wednesday dragged interminably, when every buzz at the telephone switchboard sent Jenny jumping nervously, and she didn't need the other girls' curious glances to tell her that she looked a nervous wreck.

At the end of the afternoon she not only looked terrible, she felt terrible, and Grant Ogilvie commented kindly when she had to ask him to repeat the sentence he had just dictated: 'Jenny, you look absolutely dreadful. This can wait, and if you don't feel well tomorrow you're to take the day off.' Jenny shook her head at him gravely. 'It's just a headache—nothing an early night and a few codeine tablets won't cure. Thanks, anyway,' she added gratefully. As she covered her typewriter a few minutes later, she accepted Suzy's solicitous words with murmured thanks, and caught an oddly speculative look from Lise. When the elevator descended and the doors slid open she thought for one agonizing second that the tall darkly-suited figure standing in the rear left corner was Zachary Benedict, but it was not, and she could barely hide her relief. The inner city traffic was as usual totally chaotic, with innumerable stops and starts as the huge volume of home-ward-bound workers attempted to vacate the city streets. Once inside the flat Jenny heaved a heartfelt sigh and sank down into a nearby chair to leaf through her mail. Food—even the thought of it sickened her, and she promised herself a nice hot cup of malted milk and a few plain biscuits in bed after she'd read her mail and had a shower. The ring of the telephone startled her, and she looked at it blindly, unwilling to answer it until common sense prevailed. The relief when she heard her cousin Dianne's voice at the other end of the receiver was almost enough to make her lightheaded, and she launched into a long account of her weekend at home, excluding all details regarding Zachary Benedict. The warm needle-spray of the shower eased a little of the tiredness from her body, and Jenny took her time as she shampooed her hair, feeling slightly guilty over such wanton waste of hot water. The door-bell pealed just as she wound a towel turban-wise around her head, and hastily she flung her arms into a towelling robe and flew to the door. . 'Who is it?' she called, feeling slightly apprehensive. 'Zachary Benedict.' Oh no! It couldn't be him—surely it couldn't. 'Jenny?' he summoned compellingly, and she heard him twist the door-handle. 'I—it's locked, I was taking a shower,' she offered shakily. 'You—you'll have to wait until I get dressed.' 'I'll wait,' he answered curtly, and she went quickly into her bedroom and thrust on some fresh underwear, slacks and a short-sleeved knit top. With fingers that shook she re-wound the towel round her head and crossed the lounge to the front door.

He looked formidably tall standing there in the doorway, the navy body-shirt accentuating his darkness and lending a slightly piratical air to his features. He had casually left the shirt unbuttoned from about six inches above the waist, and the cuffs of the long sleeves had been turned back to rest half-way up his muscular forearms. The silver-grey suede trousers provided a startling contrast and her eyes widened a little as he moved inside and stood looking down at her enigmatically. 'Have you eaten?' Zachary began without preamble, his expression hardening as she fiddled unnecessarily with the towel round her head. 'What—what do you want?' Jenny parried nervously, aware that she wore not a skerrick of make-up to mask her paleness. 'Want?' His laugh was short and rather harsh. 'My dear Jenny, if I were to answer that you'd consider me outrageous and flee like a chastened maiden in fear of her virtue,' he concluded sardonically. Jenny turned away from him crossly as a vivid blush stole over her cheeks and she felt unaccountably angry that he had the power to disturb her emotions so easily. The sudden movement caused the heavy turban to fell apart, and she made a slight exasperated sound as she attempted to re-wind it. 'Leave it,' Zachary instructed tersely, stretching out to pluck the towel from her hair with little regard for the long silken strands beneath it, and stepping close he proceeded to rub her hair dry with an ungentle briskness. Standing so close to him the faint tang of his aftershave teased her nostrils and she glimpsed dark springy hair between the deep vee of his shirt and suppressed an inordinate longing to reach out and touch it with her fingers. He was like no man she had ever met before, and his very presence aroused feelings she hadn't known she possessed. It was like awakening from a deep dreamless sleep, and she felt frightened—not of him, but of her own weakness. It was bewildering to find the moral principles she had hitherto found no difficulty in keeping could now so easily be cast aside, and she knew she must fight desperately to resist him. She choked back a slightly hysterical laugh—it was either sink or swim! 'There,' he threw the towel carelessly down on to a chair, then lifted her face and looked down with the suspicion of a smile lurking in the depths of his eyes. 'At this precise moment you resemble the wicked witch in one of those children's television programmes.' Jenny pulled away from him jerkily and ran an exasperated hand through her hair. 'It'll take ages to brush all these tangles out,' she accused crossly. 'Your prickles are showing, Jenny-wren,' Zachary commented dryly. 'I thought we'd dispelled any need for pretence last night.'

Jenny swung round to face him, her eyes flashing indignantly. 'For what purpose, Zachary Benedict? The challenge of proving how irresistible you are?-Does it irk you that you haven't yet managed to seduce me? Is that why you continue to seek me out?' His eyes hardened until they resembled jet flints, and his face was a cold furious mask. Jenny sensed he was using every ounce of restraint to prevent himself from physically shaking her, and she slumped inwardly in the knowledge that she deserved punishment. If he walked away now and chose never to see her again she could hardly blame him. 'It's a great pity we haven't reached the degree of intimacy that would permit suitable chastisement,' he threatened ruthlessly, 'Believe me, you'd weep for mercy!' Looking at him now, Jenny didn't doubt it. There was implacability on his taut features, a ruthless strength of purpose, and suddenly she knew it was pointless to continue fighting him. What had he said—was it only four evenings ago at the beach-house? 'Don't fight it, it will be a sheer waste of time.' Something of her thoughts must have been apparent as she unconsciously pleaded with him, her eyes mirroring her bewilderment and desolation. She desperately wanted to say the words to seek his understanding of why she fought him so stubbornly—to cry out, 'Please, please don't hurt me.' 'I can't think why you bother with me,' she managed at last in a shaky whisper. 'I seem to fling, insults at you every time we meet.' His expression softened slightly, although there was still a degree of anger lurking in the depths of his eyes. 'I agree that words are not the most favourable manner of communication between us,' he vouchsafed dryly as his dark gleaming eyes rested on the soft fullness of her mouth then travelled slowly upwards to meet her startled gaze. Jenny coloured painfully, and her heart thumped rapidly beneath her ribs. 'I'd better do something about my hair,' she excused, a mass of jangled nerves as she fled into her bedroom without a backward glance. She tackled the tangles with a vigour that had little regard for her scalp, and told herself over and over again that if he was still there when she returned to the lounge then somehow everything would be all right. Her stomach lurched crazily as she forced herself to dress her hair into a time-consuming style and apply the briefest touch of powder to her almost white cheeks, a clear pink colour to her lips. It was something of an anti-climax to enter the lounge, and for one heart-stopping second Jenny thought that he had left. Then her eyes met his across the room and she faltered and stood still in the middle of the room. Lazily he stood to his feet, his movements slow from choice, and Jenny was unable to ascertain anything at all from his enigmatic expression. . 'I requested my housekeeper to have a meal ready at seven, and it's almost that now,' Zachary told her quietly as he took his car keys from his pocket and jingled them in his hand.

Jenny hid her confusion as best she could and tried not to appear disappointed that he was intending to leave. 'If you haven't already eaten, perhaps you would care to join me?' She cast him a startled glance and saw at once that he was giving her the opportunity to refuse, but something in the way he had voiced the invitation instinctively led her to believe that he was issuing a subtle ultimatum. The thought that she might be treading dangerous ground was disregarded. 'Thank you, I'd like that,' Jenny accepted meekly. Neither spoke during the drive of little more than a mile and when Zachary turned the car into a long curving driveway Jenny felt strangely calm. The grounds were beautifully kept, with various shrubs and an absolutely splendid Norfolk pine standing tall, its spreading branches tapering skywards with meticulous precision. As the car crunched to a halt on the red chip-metalled driveway in front of the elegantly designed home Jenny couldn't help expressing a gasp of pleasure at the huge sprawling cream-coloured roughcast stone hacienda with its curved archways and tiled pathways. The roof-tiles were of a dull red and lent the dwelling an aura of warmth. 'You have a beautiful home,' Jenny complimented simply as she slid from the car to stand beside Zachary, who inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. In silence she followed him to the magnificently panelled wooden door at the main entrance, and in the hallway cast an appreciative glance at the deep richly cream-coloured shag-pile carpet covering the floor. There were a few small landscape prints on the wall, and from the lounge Jenny could see a tiled courtyard beyond the floor-to-ceiling sliding doors. Luxuriously upholstered chairs and double-seater lounge-settees were comfortably spaced about the large room, and a colour television con-sole vied with expensive stereo equipment for instant entertainment at the flick of an electronic switch. A tiny, comfortably proportioned middle-aged woman stepped into the room and Zachary smiled across at her. 'Come and meet Jenny,' he bade her kindly. 'Mrs. Lowry—Jenny Meredith.' Mrs. Lowry nodded graciously towards Jenny. 'I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Meredith.' 'Please—call me Jenny,' Jenny begged warmly, and was gratified by Mrs. Lowry's friendly response. 'Thank you, jenny. Everything is ready, and I've set the coffee percolator on the element in the kitchen. You have only to switch it on when you're ready.' With a polite smile she turned and left them, and Jenny felt Zachary's hand at her elbow as he led her through to the dining-room. The table was meticulously set with sparkling white linen, highly polished silverware, white quality crockery relieved of its plainness by a single edging of silver, and uncut crystal goblets. A bottle of

Cabernet Sauvignon nestled in a silver ice-bucket, and when the serving dishes were uncovered an appetising aroma assailed Jenny's nostrils and served to remind her how hungry she was. Duckling in orange sauce was followed by a delicious fruit flan liberally covered with whipped cream, and after the first few awkward moments at the start of the meal when Jenny thought they might not converse at all, Zachary took pity on her rather futile attempts at conversation. 'Relax, Jenny,' he said tolerantly. 'You'll develop indigestion concentrating on so many things at once. We'll talk over coffee.' . She coloured slightly and met the almost impersonal glance he directed towards her, and thought perhaps it would be wise to do as she was told. To argue with him, or rouse his anger in any way would surely bring retribution, and she didn't possess the strength at the moment to pit her will against his. The telephone rang as they sat back from the table, and Jenny nodded silently as he intimated he would answer the call from the privacy of his study. For the sake of something to do she cleared the table, carrying the dishes through to the kitchen, and at the sight of the dishwashing machine secluded in its niche beneath the sink, she rinsed and placed everything, in the machine and set it going. That done, she wandered through to the lounge and knelt down on the carpet in front of the stereo. An album of Glen Campbell's golden hits followed by one of Olivia Newton-John she carefully placed on the turntable and sank into a nearby chair as the first nostalgic strains whispered from the speakers. Guiltily she remembered the coffee percolator and sped to the kitchen to switch on the element. The cups were set to one side, along with the bowl of sugar, and Jenny was on the point of pouring the coffee when Zachary's voice from behind startled her. 'My apologies for taking so long,' he imparted briefly, and she sensed a slight smile in his voice as he continued. 'Mrs. Lowry will be distressed to think a guest has taken care of the dishes. I shall be chastised severely in the morning,' he added with wry humour. 'Now be a good girl and carry that coffee through to the lounge, for I'm in need of it. A case I'm working on has suddenly taken a downward turn, and I need some companionable silence in which to give the matter some thought.' Jenny nodded, masking the pleasure she derived from the scene of domesticity they presented. 'Wouldn't it be better if you took me home?' she suggested politely. 'Then you could work undisturbed.' 'Alternatively you could stay and listen to the stereo or watch television and ply me with coffee, then take time to soothe away the cares of a hectic day,' Zachary suggested thoughtfully. 'I think perhaps I'd better go home,' she managed shakily as his hands curved over her shoulders and turned her round to face him. 'You're rather a scared little rabbit, aren't you, Jenny-wren?' he queried softly. 'I'm willing to wager that that ex-fiancé of yours never made love to you.' Jenny didn't answer him, she felt she couldn't have even if ;her life depended upon it. Instead she stared straight ahead at the material of his shirt, trying desperately to concentrate on

something—anything, so that she wouldn't disgrace herself completely and cry. One tear spilled over and ran down her cheek to drop on to the highly polished vinyl, and soon another followed, and yet another. 'Look up at me,' Zachary threatened softly, his hands still at her shoulders, but his grip had tightened until she was sure he must snap her bones. 'So help me, I'll—' he shook her twice, and she lifted her head to gaze at him mutely and was unable to stop her lower lip trembling. 'Jenny Meredith,' he began softly, angrily, 'I've had enough of this verbal sparring. Heaven help me! Up until ten days ago I was a hardened cynic incapable of believing it possible there was a woman alive who could tear at my emotions to the extent that you do. I want you here in my home,' his voice softened and he shook her gently. 'Not as a passing physical distraction, but as my wife.' Jenny whitened and her head swam alarmingly. She was dreaming—she had to be! 'You can't mean that,' she whispered at last, her eyes huge dark pools of disbelief. 'No?' he questioned inexorably. 'I've known many women in my time. They were under no illusion there might be anything lasting in the relationship. Beautiful women with no scruples,' he elaborated hardily. 'Some have even fancied themselves as the future Mrs. Zachary Benedict. The thought of any one of them waiting dutifully for me to come home to, mothering my children, sharing my table—is totally incongruous.' He paused with a slight grimace, then smiled gently down at her white face. 'You, my Jenny-wren, could conquer my savagery, laugh instead of demur if I mussed your hair, and care not a whit if I kissed the lipstick from your lips. The man in your life would be your world, and with his children your reason for living.' He continued quietly— seriously, 'I'm asking you to marry me.' Jenny looked up at him in a daze and saw through a hazy mist his serious expression. She felt stunned, for it seemed incomprehensible that he should want her as his wife. An amusing companion to dally a little while, yes— but his wife? It seemed too incredible. 'I—it's too soon. Too sudden—I can't really believe you can possibly mean what you're saying,' she stammered shakily. 'I've never before asked any woman to marry me,' Zachary said quietly. 'As to whether I mean what I'm saying… Tomorrow I'll apply for a marriage licence and make the first available appointment at the register office—unless you'd prefer a church wedding?' he slanted down at her. 'I'm prepared to suffer the formal regalia involved if you want a traditionally white bridal gown and a tiered wedding cake.' Involuntarily Jenny reached out and fingered one of the buttons at the opening of his shirt and her fingers shook a little as they came into contact with the dark vibrant hair between the soft material. Her eyes slowly rose to the strong suntanned throat, took in the purposeful jawline, the sensuously moulded mouth, before meeting the brooding passion evident in his dark eyes. Suddenly she shivered, and with a slight sound that was a mixture of sheer surprise and fright she was lost in a black swirling

vortex, the last thing she could remember being Zachary's muffled exclamation and his arms supporting her falling body. She came back to reality with the taste of brandy on her lips, and saw the worried expression on Zachary's face barely inches from her own. She grimaced against the strong taste of the spirits and attempted to push the glass away, but it was held to her mouth relentlessly until every drop was gone. A spreading glow warmed her from within, tinging her cheeks a delicate rose. 'I thought fainting spells resulting from: emotive circumstances belonged to a bygone era,' Zachary commented with wry humour. 'But you do it twice in the space of two days.' Jenny was supremely conscious of him leaning so closely over her as she lay against the cushions on the dralon velvet-upholstered lounge-settee. A tiny secret smile of bemusement tugged at the corners of her soft mouth as she looked up at him. 'Are you real ?' she mused faintly with a questioning inflection in her voice, sure that she must be dreaming. 'Oh yes, Jenny-wren,' he drawled softly. 'Don't tempt me to prove it,' he went on to warn her gently. 'You might get more than you bargained for, and in your present state it would be taking an unfair advantage.' She smiled at him tremulously, blaming the brandy for loosening her tongue and some of her inhibitions. 'A pity to waste such an ideal setting—the soft lights and the sweet music,' she whispered wistfully. Zachary's eyes flared alert and sensually alive, and he chuckled quietly deep at the back of his throat. 'My, my! Who could resist such an invitation?' He lowered Jus head down to hers, his mouth teasingly trailing across her cheek to the corner of her lips. 'If such a small quantity of brandy will bring this result, I must remember to carry some with me all the time!' Jenny closed her eyes, the dreamy sweetness of his kiss lifting her high on to the wave of an incoming tide. Slowly she reached for him, winding her arms up round his neck, and her fingers wove deep into the thick hair curling low at the back of his neck. It was heaven, the undoubted expertise of his touch arousing her to a new awareness where she wanted only for him to go on and never stop. She made a distressed sound as he gently disentangled himself and sat leaning over her with a hand on either side of her shoulders. She looked up at him dreamily, her lips trembling and rosy from his kisses. 'Zachary?' she queried softly, her voice slurring slightly as she lifted a hand to touch his cheek. His eyes held hers as his lips twisted into a quizzical smile. 'You're something of a minx, Jenny Meredith.' He stood to his feet, pulling her upright to stand within the circle of his arms. 'I think I'd better take you home, after all,' he intimated wryly. 'You're scarcely responsible for your actions.'

Jenny's lips curved into a witching smile and her eyes twinkled with something akin to mischief. 'Are you usually so gallant with your women?' Zachary's eyes sparkled down at her dangerously. 'You, Jenny-wren, have precisely twenty seconds in which to be out of that front door and into the car, or by heaven you'll become my woman!' Jenny's eyes widened at the intensity of his tone, and her lips parted involuntarily as she glimpsed the lambent passion in the depths of those dark eyes. That he meant every word she didn't doubt for a second, and deeming it prudent not to stand and argue, she turned and fled! She didn't realize that she had silently been counting the seconds until she was safely seated inside the car, and then she felt far from calm. Jumbled thoughts raced and tumbled inside her brain until she was certain her head would explode. Her eyes riveted on Zachary's tall frame as he walked towards her. and slid in behind the wheel. His expression appeared controlled and unruffled and she marvelled that he could present so calm an exterior. Jenny gazed with apparent fascination at nothing in particular directly in front of the windscreen as the car swept down the driveway to the road and covered the distance to her flat in a matter of minutes. The silence inside the ear seemed to last an age and for the sake of something to say—any thing-was better than this seemingly interminable quiet, Jenny found herself murmuring a few words in a tiny polite voice. 'Thank you for dinner.' 'Come here,' Zachary ordered softly, and Jenny cast him an anxious look. Silently he reached out a hand and gently caressed the aide of her throat. 'Dear Jenny—trust in me, that's all I ask.' The touch of his fingers was warm against her skin, evoking a treacherous longing deep within her, and it was all she could do not to fling herself into his arms. 'I'd better go,' she managed to conceal the ache in her voice with great effort. 'You have work to do.' Without looking at him she slipped from the car and shut the door firmly behind her, then walked quickly up the path to the front door of her fiat. The key slid smoothly into the lock and as she switched on the light she turned to see the Mercedes-Benz reverse down the driveway. Unsettled, Jenny wandered from room to room, then switched on the television and disinterestedly viewed the programme for a few minutes before turning it off again. She still felt slightly muzzy-headed from the effects of the brandy and knew she should prepare for bed, but there were too many conflicting thoughts swirling around inside her brain to imagine sleep might come easily. The settee looked comfortably inviting, and placing a cushion strategically on its arm Jenny curled down meditatively, determined to assess the chaos Zachary Benedict had succeeded in causing to her emotions. She wasn't aware of dozing, and awoke much later feeling slightly chilled and vaguely stiff-necked, A glance at her watch showed she had been asleep for almost three hours, and with a

series of yawns interspersed with several attempts to instil some warmth into her stiffened limbs she crept into bed.

A telephone call at the office shortly before midday from Aunt Madge confirmed that she and Uncle Dan had driven up to Auckland a day earlier than originally planned—Aunt Madge had chuckled humorously that this way she could wheedle Uncle Dan into allowing her two shopping sprees instead of one. It meant they must change their dinner date with Jenny, but they hoped she didn't have anything too important planned this evening that couldn't be postponed. Delighted, Jenny affirmed that she would meet them in the foyer of their hotel as soon as she finished work that afternoon, and as Aunt Madge voiced an interest in seeing her flat it was arranged that Jenny would drive them there so that she could change into something suitable for dining out. When Jenny returned to the office after a hectic lunch-hour spent fruitlessly shopping for a new pair of shoes, and five minutes late into the bargain, it was to find a hastily scrawled message requesting she ring Mrs. Lowry at the above number. Jenny hurriedly dialled, motioning with her hand to Grant Ogilvie to place the dictaphone on her desk and nodded silently as he indicated he needed her to take dictation when she had finished her call. 'Mrs. Lowry? It's Jenny Meredith. I received a message to contact you,' Jenny explained quietly into the receiver. 'Yes, Jenny,' Mrs. Lowry responded warmly. 'Mr. Benedict asked if I would telephone and confirm a dinner engagement for seven o'clock this evening.' Jenny felt disappointed and her eyes clouded a little. 'I'm afraid I can't—not this evening, Mrs. Lowry,' she conveyed regretfully. 'My aunt and uncle have arrived in Auckland a day earlier than expected and I've already made arrangements to meet them for dinner.' 'Oh dear,' Mrs. Lowry voiced worriedly. 'Mr. Benedict did mention that he expects to be in court all day, and I know he dislikes to be contacted there. However,' she continued resourcefully, 'I'll endeavour to leave a message with his secretary in the hope that he'll check with the office before leaving the city, otherwise I'll leave a written message here—it's my day off and I'm going out soon.' 'I am sorry, Mrs. Lowry,' Jenny offered apologetically. 'Never mind, Jenny, I know Mr. Benedict will understand. Goodbye for now.' Jenny thanked her and replaced the receiver just as Grant Ogilvie emerged into the outer office, and hastily she collected her shorthand pad and pencil. It was almost six o'clock before she had Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan safely ensconced in her car and away from the confusion of the inner city. Uncle Dan praised her driving and praised his saints that he wasn't a city commuter—in that order—then shifted his bulky frame and voiced mock indignation at the size of Jenny's car.

Aunt Madge chided him gently for behaving like an oversized grizzly bear, whereby he grumbled wryly that the sooner they returned to the tranquillity of their own country surroundings the better, Jenny heard Aunt Madge chuckle, and that good lady's placating words indicating that she would make it up to him drew a Cheshire-catlike grin from: Uncle Dan, and Jenny caught the devilish sparkle in his eyes as he countered with satisfaction that he had been counting on just that! Inside the flat Jenny bade Uncle Dan to pour a glass of sherry for each of them while she changed, and in her bedroom selected a long skirt of chocolate-brown crushed velvet and a smart body-shirt in cream silk. She elected to leave her hair loose with the ends curling slightly and applied fresh make-up. Transferring her keys, money and other essentials to a more suitable shoulder-bag, she emerged into the lounge to receive her aunt and uncle's mutual admiration of her appearance. 'Thank you kindly! Such remarks are very good for my morale,' she acknowledged laughingly as she accepted the glass of amber-coloured sherry Uncle Dan held out to her. 'I love your flat, Jenny,' Aunt Madge enthused. 'The kitchen is so compact, yet there's everything necessary without being cramped for space. And in a block of two you can always bang on the wall in case of emergencies.' Jenny smiled engagingly. 'Hardly, Aunt. There's a solid double-block wall separating each flat. It would take a pretty hefty thump to raise even a sound on the other side.' A hint of mischief prompted her to add, 'Security-wise, I have good locks on both doors, safety-chains as well, and there's always the telephone!' Aunt Madge looked faintly relieved and had the grace to smile sheepishly as Jenny burst into laughter. 'Honestly, you're almost as bad as Mother. So much for my liberated aunt!' she teased affectionately, while Uncle Dan managed a deep-throated 'hurrumph' that defied description. 'I think perhaps we should leave, don't you think?' Jenny sparkled towards her aunt. 'Oh, decidedly!' that good lady grinned amicably in return. 'D'you mean to say I have to put up with the two of you for the entire evening?' Uncle Dan questioned teasingly, his eyebrows raised in an expression of mock-horror. 'It would be more appropriate to ask if we have to put up with you, you incorrigible rascal!' his wife answered sweetly. 'Taken to answering me back, have you, woman?' 'Can you remember a time when I haven't?' Aunt Madge collapsed into a peal of barely stifled laughter as Uncle Dan shook a threatening fist in her direction.

The sound of the door-bell startled their merriment, and Jenny looked as surprised as did Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan. Quickly she crossed to the door, to reveal Zachary's large frame filling the doorway. She didn't have time to say anything before she was swept firmly into his arms and very thoroughly kissed. 'Zachary!' she gasped breathlessly when he finally released her—embarrassed and flustered that such demonstrative possessiveness had had the full scrutiny of her aunt and uncle. A blush coloured her cheeks as she performed the necessary introductions, deepening as she met the gleam in Uncle Dan's eye. Zachary, bother him, was not a whit put out, and he shook Uncle Dan's extended hand and met and matched that gleam with a decidedly devilish gleam of his own! Scarcely before Jenny had time to voice any explanation Uncle Dan very smoothly invited Zachary to join them for dinner, and Aunt Madge quickly added her approval. For a country farmer Uncle Dan displayed a sophisticated adroitness in telephoning the restaurant— 'Some gorgeously nonsensical name about a moustache, Dan and I passed it today,' Aunt Madge twinkled at Zachary, utterly captivated, Jenny could tell. 'Good as done,' Uncle Dan smiled with satisfaction. 'Need another man along to help control these two. A touch of the Irish from their maternal ancestors—comes to the fore now and again. .Terrible temper when roused,' he elaborated, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled humorously as he spoke to Zachary. 'Noticed it, have you?' 'Yes,' Zachary replied, blandly ignoring both Aunt Madge's, and Jenny's startled gasps, 'Nothing I can't handle,' he continued urbanely. 'Glad of that. Yes, thought you could,' Uncle Dan grinned unashamedly. 'It showed.' This was too much for Aunt Madge. 'Daniel Farrell,' she began determinedly. 'You are the most—' 'Perhaps we'd better feed them—it might serve to quieten things down a bit,' Uncle Dan slanted across to Zachary, who immediately tossed back the verbal byplay. 'And some wine? I've noticed that has effect.' Uncle Dan moved towards the door. 'Hope your car is larger than Jenny's. You did come by car?' 'Yes,' Zachary averred with a slight smile. 'I'm sure you'll find it quite comfortable.' 'Ah yes,' Uncle Dan murmured with appreciation as he glimpsed the Mercedes-Benz standing in the driveway. 'Now, that is a car;!' 'Glad you like it,' Zachary replied amiably. 'Don't object if I ride in front? You'll have Jenny to yourself on the way home.'

'Not at all,' Zachary held the rear door open for Jenny and Aunt Madge, and Jenny caught the wicked twinkle in his eyes as she followed her aunt into the car. Dinner was delightful, both food and conversation-wise. The two men appeared kindred spirits and had obviously taken a liking to each other. It wasn't until later in the evening when Zachary asked Jenny to dance that she had a chance to explain about Mrs. Lowry's telephone call, Aunt Madge's call a day earlier than expected, and a frantically busy afternoon. She had spoken to his immaculately knotted tie less than an inch from her nose. Rather tentatively she lifted her head and met his dark eyes regarding her lazily with a glint of humour in their depths. 'Did you work very late last night?' she queried politely as her eyes held his with difficulty. Suddenly she felt shy and not at all sure of this large-framed man in the cloak of sophistication he wore with such ease. An eyebrow quirked as a slight smile curved his lips. 'Polite conversation—or concern for my well-being?' Jenny swallowed a trifle nervously and studied his tie. 'I thought you might be feeling tired if you had, that's all,' she managed quietly. 'Mrs. Lowry mentioned that you were to be in court all day.' The minute spots on his tie were stitched in fine silk, she noticed idly, and were effective. 'I'm well used to it,' Zachary remarked lightly as he drew her closer within the circle of his arms. 'Yes, of course,' she murmured indistinctly as his lips brushed her left earlobe and then travelled upwards to rest against her temple for a few timeless seconds. 'I do believe you're shy, Jenny-wren,' he mocked gently. Jenny attempted to move away from him without success and when she spoke her voice was muffled and sounded slightly hurt. 'You're teasing me.' 'Am I? Have you spared a thought to the extent you tease, I wonder?' he mused wryly. 'I do not!' she bit out indignantly, and then coloured painfully as she met his amused glance and the intended meaning of his words sank in. 'It would serve you right not to have your own way all the time,' she choked crossly. 'I shall have my revenge for that particular remark— later,' he threatened calmly. 'Zachary Benedict, I—' 'Yes?' he interrupted imperturbably, and his eyes were agleam with hidden laughter, 'Later, my Jenny-wren—later. Some coffee now, I think, and then we must drop your aunt and uncle off at their hotel.' He dropped an arm about her waist as he led her back to their table where they were joined almost immediately by Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan. happily voicing their enjoyment, of the evening, their pleasure at meeting Zachary, and evincing their intention to come north to Auckland mote often.

Over coffee Uncle Dan leaned forward companionably and captured Jenny's attention. 'Your Aunt Madge has one of those time-consuming appointments at a fancy beauty salon tomorrow. Feel like taking pity on a country farming gentleman and having lunch with me, Jenny?' 'I'd like that, Uncle Dan,' Jenny agreed with a smile. 'Right. Nowhere too complicated for me to find.' Jenny thought for a few seconds, then suggested the restaurant next door and promised to meet him in the lounge shortly after one the following day. She and Aunt Madge walked out of the restaurant ahead of the two men and as they were half-way down the stairs Aunt Madge turned to her and smiled warmly. 'I like your Zachary, Jenny,' she began tentatively. 'Do you know him well?' Jenny smiled ruefully as they reached the pavement. 'I've known him about ten days, Aunty dear,' she grinned, and wrinkled her nose portly, 'And he's not my Zachary!' Aunt Madge looked vaguely disappointed. 'Oh dear, I was so hoping—' she began, and Jenny interrupted her gently. 'I've only recently arrived in Auckland fresh from one broken romance, remember? I'd scarcely want to dive headlong into another!' Her aunt accorded her a surprisingly alert glance, then said slowly, 'I intended waiting six months before marrying your Uncle Dan—but he, the dear impetuous man, would have none of that.' Uncle Dan—impetuous? 'Just how long did you wait, Aunt Madge?' Jenny asked curiously. 'It was a whirlwind courtship,' Aunt Madge reminisced dreamily. Jenny began to laugh and the light bubbly sound was infectious. 'How long?' she queried relentlessly. 'Thirteen days,' Aunt Madge revealed, and began to chuckle softly. 'Believe me, they were the longest, stormiest days I've ever spent!' Jenny sobered quickly and was strangely silent for a few seconds. 'I know what you mean,' she said slowly. 'I rather think you do,' her aunt agreed gently. Uncle Dan's chuckle reached their ears and Jenny and Aunt Madge turned to see the two men walking towards them. Jenny's hand was grasped firmly as Zachary reached her side and immediately her breathing began to play tricks on her. Almost unaware of doing so, her fingers curled round his compulsively, and the answering pressure sent her pulse racing disturbingly.

It seemed a very short time before they reached the car and then delivered Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan outside their hotel entrance. Jenny's rather wistful farewell brought an answering smile from Aunt Madge. As the Mercedes-Benz moved away from the inner city and headed south-east towards Bucklands Beach Jenny searched rather desperately for something to say, but nothing seemed to form coherently and she sat in tongue-tied silence for the following fifteen minutes. 'Come, my Jenny-wren,' Zachary bade quietly as the car drew to a halt in the driveway outside her flat, 'We have things to discuss.' He took the key from her hand and inserted it into the lock and opened the front door of the flat, following her into the lounge. 'Your aunt and uncle are a charming couple,' he observed conversationally as he watched her nervously fiddling with the strap of her shoulder-bag. 'I'm very fond of them both,' Jenny affirmed, feeling a mass of jangled nerves. 'Aunt Madge and Mother are sisters—twin sisters,' she elaborated shakily. Zachary's eyes narrowed fractionally as she began to finger her hair and his voice was carefully bland as he spoke. 'They're driving back to Claudelands tomorrow afternoon. It won't be necessary for you to arrive late for the party tomorrow evening, after all.' Jenny gathered her startled thoughts together. 'Oh, no, I suppose not,' she said in a quiet subdued little voice. . 'Look at me,' Zachary ordered softly as he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her round to face him. He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze, and Jenny blinked up at him, feeling way out of her depth at the smouldering passion evident in the dark eyes above her own. She licked her lower lip in a, purely nervous gesture as he shook her gently. 'You are by far the most exasperating female—' he began formidably, breaking off as she ran her tongue along her lower lip for the second time. 'Heaven forbid! Must you do that!' he ground out angrily. Jenny gazed at him in bewilderment. 'I don't understand what you mean,' she began, and her voice was little more than a whisper. 'Jenny, Jenny, what am I to do with you ?' he groaned as she unconsciously licked her lip for the third time, and with an expressive sigh he pulled her into his arms. 'Out of my sight for less than twenty-four hours and already: you're a mass of nerves—full of doubts and almost as unsure of yourself as you are of me. Why?' Jenny stood silent within the circle of his arms and was unable to utter anything coherent that might make sense.

'Is the prospect of marrying me so daunting?' Zachary demanded quietly, and Jenny lifted her head slowly to meet his dark compelling gaze. 'I wouldn't be honest if I said no,' she began tremulously, and her eyes begged him to understand. 'You're like no man I've ever known. It frightens me to think that only weeks ago I believed myself to be in love with Max, that I would have married him and been content—'she broke off and her features were achingly transparent. 'It's all happened so quickly. Can't you see I need time?' 'Time, Jenny-wren ?' he queried wryly. 'Only an innocent could plea so heartlessly.' Jenny felt the tears well and spill from her eyes to trickle slowly down each cheek. 'Please—I can't think straight any more,' she entreated brokenly as his mouth descended gently and began to kiss away the tears. With a muffled sob she turned to meet his lips with her own, and it was a long time before he put her gently from him. 'I'm not wholly convinced that it wouldn't be better to sweep you off to the register office at three-thirty on Monday as I've arranged,' he admonished mildly, and lightly touched her lips with a stray forefinger. 'You shall have your time, Jenny. But don't imagine,' he added wryly, 'that I'll allow you time unlimited. Any further hint of a postponement I will disregard in toto and you will be carried unceremoniously before the Registrar. Understood?' A tiny devil tempted her to reply impishly. 'Yes, sir,' she answered solemnly, then yelped with surprise as hard hands gripped her waist and lifted her up against him. His mouth descended on hers, the hard pressure of his lips relentlessly demanding her response, and it seemed an age before he lifted his head to regard her rosy lips and bemused sparkling eyes as she gazed up at him. 'Yes, sir, indeed!' Zachary slanted down at her and his lips twitched humorously. 'I think you're going to be an exceedingly tyrannical husband,' Jenny allowed somewhat shakily as a slow smile parted her mouth. 'And you,' he bent over to kiss her hard before releasing her, 'are a witching minx! You scarcely deserve this.' He withdrew a small jeweller's box from the inside pocket of his jacket and placed it in her hand. 'Open it,' he commanded softly, and his eyes creased tolerantly as he witnessed her confusion. 'Zachary?' Jenny queried breathlessly. 'It was my mother's,' he affirmed quietly as she timidly pressed the catch. She gasped out loud at the beauty of the large ruby surrounded by several diamonds, each large enough to grace a solitaire mounting. It looked far too valuable to contemplate wearing. 'The setting can be changed if you like,' he said gently. Jenny looked up at him and her heart thumbed crazily. 'It's simply beautiful just as it is,' she said shakily. 'I'd be afraid to wear it.'

Silently he took it from its satin-lined box and slipped it on to the third finger of her left hand. The wide gold band fitted firmly. 'I—thank you,' Jenny whispered.. 'You'd better take it off again. I'll wear it only on special occasions.' Zachary laughed and his dark eyes gleamed as he lifted a hand to caress her cheek. 'You'll wear it all the time, Jenny-wren. If it will ease your mind it is insured. Now,' he added gently, 'off to bed with you. I'll collect you tomorrow evening about seven, and Mrs. Lowry will have dinner ready for us. Enjoy your lunch with your Uncle Dan tomorrow,' he concluded, and bent down to ruffle her hair and placed a light kiss on her lips, then he turned and left the room, closing the front door of the flat behind him. CHAPTER 6

Uncle Dan was already wailing when Jenny reached the restaurant lounge, and without preamble he took her arm and led her to a table. 'Now, my girl,' he began lightly when the wine steward had taken his order and waited expectantly for Jenny to glance up from the menu. 'I thought we'd have a talk, you and I.' Jenny felt she knew what was coming and forestalled him. 'I guessed as much,' she wrinkled her nose at him impishly, and laughingly covered her glass as he gestured to the wine steward. 'I'll have a shandy, thank you. I'm a working girl, remember?' she chastised with mock severity! Uncle Dan shook his head slowly and his expression became unusually serious as he picked up his knife and fork, and it was not until he had sampled the appetising deep-fried scallops nestling in their bed of assorted salad greens that he chose to speak. 'Known him long, Jenny?' His voice was gently probing and his eyes were alert and far too observant to be easily fooled. Jenny toyed with the cutlery at the side of her plate and her eyes rested momentarily on the naked third finger of her left hand. Zachary's ring reposed in its satin-lined box and was safely locked away. She had gone to sleep with the ring on, sure of her courage to wear it to work today and declare to all who would remark on its splendour that none other than Zachary Benedict himself had asked her to marry him. The thought of facing the incredulous looks she would undoubtedly receive from Suzy, Judy and Lise—especially Lise—was daunting, and at the rate the secretarial grapevine spread its news Jenny's engagement to the much sought-after Zachary Benedict would become common knowledge all over the building by lunch-time. So Jenny had taken it off. 'Tonight,' she had told herself bracingly, 'I'll put it on again, and perhaps by the end of the weekend I'll have become more used to the idea.'

'Almost two weeks,' Jenny answered quietly. 'I'd put a ring on your Aunt Madge's finger at the beginning of the first week and swept her into church to be wed by the end of the second,' Uncle Dan offered enigmatically. 'Meaning?' Jenny lifted her head and met his gaze squarely. 'Don't make obstacles where there are none, my dear. A love that must be ruled by the head instead of the heart loses much in its foundation.' Jenny twisted her lips into a wry smile. 'No doubt there's some truth in that. Uncle Dan. But there's also an equally appropriate saying—"marry in haste, repent at leisure".' 'You come of old-Country tried-and-true stock, Jenny-wren. With proper handling, a stayer right to the end of the course.' 'You make me sound like a racehorse!' she grinned ruefully. 'A thoroughbred filly,' Uncle Dan smiled kindly. 'One any man in his right mind would want to own.' 'You're very good for my morale, Uncle Dan, but I'm a big girl now, remember?' Jenny teased lightly, loath to unburden the complex fears and uncertainties that crowded her thoughts. Zachary had promised to give her time—although how much time he hadn't specified. Somehow she couldn't imagine him allowing things to drift indefinitely—he was far too decisive to tolerate indecision for very long. She had known Max for over six years, and look what good that had done her! Yes, a tiny voice inside her whispered, but you were more in love with love than in love with Max. And to compare Zachary with Max was ludicrous. 'Point taken, Jenny,' Uncle Dan smiled kindly. 'For what it's worth—I like him.' Jenny immediately felt contrite, for Uncle Dan was a dear man and obviously had her welfare very much at heart. 'He's asked me to marry him,' she enlightened quietly. Uncle Dan scarcely paused in the rhythmic chewing of that particular mouthful of food and to his credit he forked yet another mouthful into his mouth before swallowing it, then he looked across at her solemnly. 'Have you accepted?' Jenny nodded slowly and felt compelled to add with a fake brightness, 'I suppose you could call it-r-"off with the old and on with the new",' she almost choked over the last few words and immediately thought, what an inane remark to make. 'The wedding will be soon,' Uncle Dan stated calmly. 'I can't imagine he'll allow you time to mull it over and perchance change your mind.'

'Yes,' Jenny agreed quietly, and her eyes held his anxiously as the familiar knot of panic rose within her. There was an answering gentleness in his expression and his smile was kindly sympathetic. 'You remind me very much of your Aunt Madge, Jenny. She wasn't at all sure she should marry me either, and to do so on so short an acquaintance was just asking for the gossipmongers to make two and two add up to at least five. Mistake, that,' he warned quietly. 'Don't take any notice of gossip. Usually sour grapes, anyhow. I'm glad,' he continued kindly. 'Much more suitable than that other fellow. Now, you've talked too much,' he twinkled across at her and his eyebrows lifted at .her expression of outrage. 'The food's getting cold and you'll have to bolt the rest of it down if you're to get back to the office on time. Probably suffer from indigestion for the rest of the afternoon,' he concluded with mock-severity. 'Well, I never!' Jenny spluttered in laughing indignation. 'Your Aunt Madge will be pleased,' Uncle Dan asserted with satisfaction. 'Taken with him,' he chuckled deeply. 'I could tell.' Jenny wrinkled her nose at him and refused to utter another word until she had done full justice to the steak and salad on her plate and the coffee in her cup was almost empty. Then her comments were of necessity very short as a hurried glance at her watch determined that she had a bare few minutes in which to return to the office. She dressed with care for the evening ahead at Zachary's home, unsure whether her long floral skirt, and halter-necked top with its deep vee and cross-over ties winding round her midriff were too formal. At least a two-piece outfit allowed for easier undressing if there was to be swimming in the pool. Zachary hadn't mentioned whether it was to be a large party and Jenny began to feel nervous. The sound of a car moving into the driveway sent her hurriedly across to the dressing-table, to retrieve her engagement ring. Oh, drat! The drawer was stuck, and she pulled at it impatiently as the contents slid and rattled noisily. At last the drawer jerked open and shakily she withdrew the small box from its hiding place and seconds later slipped the ring on to her finger. Zachary eyed her silently as she opened the door, taking in the warm colour on her cheeks, the brightness of her eyes, and the nervous, almost flustered greeting she gave him. 'You have the look of a guilty pupil having narrowly escaped detection by the teacher,' he remarked lightly as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. 'Feel like confessing?' 'What makes you think I might have something to feel guilty of ?' Jenny parried defensively, and successfully hid her confusion as he leant down and kissed her hard on the lips, then tilted her chin to examine her expression at leisure. 'Grant Ogilvie happened to share a drink with me over lunch, and made no mention of his secretary having become newly engaged,' he said softly, and his eyes gleamed darkly as they witnessed the swift rush of colour to her cheeks.

'I told Uncle Dan,' Jenny began slowly as she regarded him with large serious eyes, noticing the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, the thick well-shaped eyebrows and the wide forehead. His features bore almost a Slav prominence with the wide cheekbones and the sculptured jaw. 'You won't be able to hide behind the cloak of anonymity much longer, my Jenny-wren,' he chided gently as he touched the tip of her nose with a stray forefinger. 'It might be as well if we drive down to Tauranga tomorrow and acquaint your mother and Jane with our news before the possibility of them hearing it second-hand arises. We'll stay overnight, and take both your mother and Jane out to dinner.' Jenny lowered her gaze as she glimpsed the lambent passion lurking in the depths of his eyes. Almost unaware of doing so, she sighed—not for any specific reason she could pinpoint other than a desire for the following few weeks to be over and done with, that somehow there might be some analgesic that would allow her to sleep blissfully and permit her to waken as Mrs. Zachary Benedict. 'Second thoughts—so soon?' Zachary queried Wryly. 'Another sigh such as that and I'll resort to caveman tactics!' Jenny looked up at him a trifle anxiously, and her heart lurched crazily as he drew her in close against the hard strength of him. The feel of his hands as they moved with a caressing expertise brought shivers of latent ecstasy she had difficulty in concealing. 'Zachary,' she-murmured -hesitantly, and trembled as his lips trailed across her eyelids to the lobes of her ears before claiming her mouth in a kiss that was ungentle in its demanding passion. Uncle Dan was right, she thought shakily timeless minutes later. Zachary Benedict would not wait long. 'You were saying, Jenny?' he quizzed tolerantly, and quirked one eyebrow at her in amusement. 'You—you have an unfair advantage over me,' Jenny managed breathlessly, and felt a warm rush of colour flood her cheeks as he slowly traced her lips. 'Wrong, Jenny-wren,' he mocked gently. 'It's you who possess that by unnecessarily delaying our marriage.' Jenny felt her lower lip tremble and her eyes began to swim with unshed tears as she struggled out of his grasp and turned away. This just would not do, she chastised herself angrily. All these doubts and fears interwoven with an overwhelming passion such as she had never known before. It seemed impossible that such feeling could be termed love. Love was supposed to be a gentle emotion, surely—not this surging, all-encompassing yearning that was alternatively heaven and hell. She shivered slightly as his hands reached out and drew her back against him, and she felt his lips brush against her hair. 'I love you, Jenny,' Zachary began quietly. 'We belong together—we both know the truth of that. There'll be times when I won't be able to protect you from possible hurtful gossip—I haven't led a celibate existence and I can't deny that there've been numerous affairs colouring my past. I'm aware that you need reassurance—I can't blame you for that,' he paused fractionally, then continued seriously,' 'I can only promise you my fidelity, Jenny—my love you already have.'

Jenny felt her throat ache with suppressed emotion, and for the life of her she couldn't have uttered one word just then. Slowly she turned and reached up to pull his head down to hers, and her lips were singularly sweet as they met his. 'My dear Jenny-wren,' he murmured gently as he reluctantly raised his head some several minutes later. 'Mrs. Lowry has dinner waiting for us, and in another hour the first of our guests will begin arriving.' Jenny slowly disentangled herself and moved away to collect her evening bag, and when she turned to face him he caught hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. 'I fly down to Wellington on Tuesday to attend a legal conference—unavoidable, unfortunately,' he said in a voice tinged with regret. Jenny felt an ache begin beneath her ribs, and her voice was slightly shaky as she spoke, 'How long will you be away?' Zachary's eyes met hers and it seemed an age before he spoke. 'A week—possibly eight days,' he enlightened slowly. Jenny swallowed convulsively, A whole week without seeing him didn't bear thinking about. She wanted to cry out loud that she would marry him on Monday as he had initially arranged, and not wait the remaining four weeks until Christmas as she had hoped to persuade him to agree to—thus allowing time to plan, and work out a fortnight's notice at the office. Jenny thought rather hysterically that there was nothing to plan. She had a wardrobe filled with new clothes, filmy nightwear and lingerie by the .dozen, and a generous bank balance. Zachary owned an exceedingly luxurious home, and had his own legal practice—-there was nothing to wait for. Uncle Dan was right—she was concerned over all the wrong things, and lacked the courage to concede to Zachary's command. The gossipmongers would utter barbed comments, of that there was no doubt, but what did it matter? 'You're worrying unnecessarily, Jenny-wren,' Zachary caressed her cheek with gently teasing fingers. 'After tonight our engagement and forthcoming marriage in the near future will become common knowledge. You can place a call through to Tauranga before we have dinner and we'll talk to your mother.' He bent down and kissed her fleetingly. 'Perhaps you'd like to suggest we take both your mother and Jane to your aunt and uncle's farm on Sunday—there's no reason why we can't drive back to Auckland early Monday morning.' Jenny smiled a trifle hesitantly, the thought of the evening ahead and meeting his friends was slightly daunting. Not to mention her mother's astonishment and probably cautioning—Jenny didn't imagine Jane would really be surprised at all! Perhaps she should permit herself to be swept along submissively with most of Zachary's arrangements, for Jenny knew without a doubt that he would win in the end. With an adroitness Jenny could only admire Zachary had little difficulty in reassuring Mrs. Meredith, and held beside him with his arm firmly about her waist Jenny remained until Zachary handed

the receiver over to her. Mrs. Meredith did most of the talking— perhaps questioning would be more apt, Jenny smiled a trifle wryly, but it appeared her mother seemed convinced and had readily agreed with Zachary's suggestion for them all to dine out tomorrow evening by way of a family celebration. She sanctioned also the proposal to visit Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan at Claudelands on Sunday, and it seemed Zachary had accepted her invitation to stay with the Merediths rather than arrange motel accommodation or stay with the Sandersons. 'I would dearly like to see you in action in the court-room, Zachary Benedict,' Jenny wrinkled her nose at him expressively. 'You have a way of smoothing out all the crinkles—in a wig and gown you'd -be positively diabolical!' 'I trust that's a compliment,' Zachary slanted down at her laconically. 'Otherwise I might be tempted to dampen your impish wit with a sudden plunge into the pool later this evening.' 'You dare, and I'll' Jenny sparkled indignantly up at him as he began to laugh. 'What will you do, Jenny-wren—tell me ?' 'Make sure you get awfully wet in the process!' Jenny retaliated spiritedly. 'Hmm,' he chuckled deeply, and placed a finger' beneath her chin. 'Is that a threat or a promise?' 'Both!' Jenny vouchsafed succinctly. Zachary's eyes flared sensually alive and he bent his head down to hers to kiss her lips with a passion that rendered her starry-eyed and breathless. 'Dinner—a timely interruption,' Zachary smiled devilishly down at her as he firmly put her from him. Mrs. Lowry's culinary accomplishments were obvious, for the meal was superb, and after her second glass of wine Jenny felt ready to face anything. With utter fascination she observed Mrs. Lowry direct two young men down to the garden at the rear of the house where lamps illuminated the pool and surrounding paved area. A barbecue was set up by one of the men while the other organised and stocked a portable bar of no mean proportions. At the far end of the kidney-shaped pool were sizeable changing rooms, and Jenny stood watching as Zachary hooked up an elaborate stereo tape-recorder with connecting speakers. 'About thirty,' Zachary answered in reply to Jenny's query as to how many people were expected. 'The first few have just arrived,' he looked up as six couples wandered down towards them from the house. Introductions completed, Jenny couldn't help but notice the looks of genuine disbelief on all but two faces as she, was presented as the future Mrs. Zachary Benedict. Drinks were distributed and the scene was re-enacted as each group of guests arrived. Jenny felt every single one of her features were

closely scrutinised by almost all of the women and she needed little imagination to reason that she was the most circumspectly whispered-about person present! She could read from their expressions just which direction those idle gossiping tongues were travelling, and she hated the calculatingly speculative glances and the over-bright smiles. She was under no illusion that most of these women would love to scratch her eyes out! By the time most of the guests dispersed to the changing rooms Jenny was feeling decidedly defensive. Jenny smiled brightly at the ten young women in various stages of undress as she changed into her gaily patterned bikini in shades of lilac blue and pink. Thanks to her careful sunbathing last Saturday she was lightly and evenly tanned, but she almost blushed at the scantily covered voluptuous curves of one young girl who openly admitted that she hoped her carelessly tied bikini top came adrift in the pool. Jenny barely refrained from querying why the girl didn't go topless, and have done with it! Bathing cap in place, she emerged with the other girls and walked to the edge of the pool. It looked inviting, the sparkling clear water was tinged a delicate green, and she stood hesitantly unsure as the others alternatively dived, slid or jumped into the pool. An arm slid around her waist and another lifted her high up against a muscular chest, and Jenny turned a startled face to meet Zachary's faintly mocking expression a few inches from her own. 'Don't you dare throw me in, Zachary Benedict!' she whispered furiously as he moved purposefully to the very edge, realising that it would be futile to struggle against his superior strength. 'Now why should I do that?' Zachary teased smilingly a bare second before he stepped into the pool with her held closely against him. Jenny flung her arms up around his neck and as they hit the water together she felt his lips fasten on hers and his hands slid about her waist. It was an utterly pagan action that rocked her senses completely, and when they surfaced together Zachary's eyes held a lambent sensuality in their darkly gleaming depths. 'A pity we have an audience,' he murmured quietly, and kissed her, hard on the lips before allowing her to escape to the pool's edge where he leisurely followed a few seconds behind her. For a few minutes they watched the voluptuous redhead frolic with two male friends. Her carefree abandon sent waves of embarrassment over Jenny as minutes later the girl's bikini top came unfastened and was accompanied by cries of false modesty that succeeded in attracting the attention she had contrived to obtain. 'I think I'll get changed,' Jenny muttered briefly, and spared a quick look at Zachary. His face was completely impersonal as he took in the scene and his eyes for one brief second were coldly derisive. With an easy lithe movement he, levered his powerful frame up on to the pool's edge, and standing to his feet leant down and grasped Jenny's hand and pulled her up to stand beside him. Jenny shivered in the cool night air and murmured indistinctly that she intended to change back into her clothes.

When she emerged some ten minutes later the barbecue held sizzling steaks on its grill and the aromatic smell rose tantalizingly coupled with brewing coffee, and Jenny made her way towards Zachary's tall figure. He had changed back into his clothes and she watched his face crease into a warm smile as he caught sight of her. Jenny's heart lurched crazily and she had to stop herself from physically flinging herself into his arms. Never—never would she tire of just looking at him. The laughter lines that creased the skin at the side of his cheekbones, the way the corners of his widely-spaced eyes wrinkled at the temples when he smiled, and the sensuous lips that could alternatively delight or punish with a frightening expertise. That he should want to marry- her—her, not any one of the innumerable women he had known Jenny found completely overwhelming and more than a little bewildering. 'Come back to earth, my Jenny-wren,' Zachary leant down and spoke close to her ear as he handed her a mug of hot black coffee. 'You look as if you're way out there among the stars,' he teased gently. 'I was,' Jenny smiled bewitchingly up at him as she sipped the steaming brew. 'My thoughts are strictly my own—so eat your heart out, Zachary Benedict!' Zachary chuckled quietly and regarded her lazily, his eyes flaring slightly as they roved slowly over her face. 'Wrong—I can read you like an open book.' Jenny wrinkled her nose at him and when she spoke her eyes danced with barely suppressed merriment. 'If that's so, kindly explain why you haven't handed me one of those delicious-looking steakburgers.' 'It will keep, Jenny-wren,' he cautioned implacably, and his eyes twinkled in amusement as she lowered her eyes away from his intimate gaze. 'You have one week— as from next Friday.' Jenny's eyes flew open and her lips parted in surprise as she lifted her head. Zachary handed her a steakburger and smiled down at her wickedly. 'In slightly less than two weeks you'll become Mrs. Zachary Benedict—and this time I'm permitting no histrionics. I have the licence and have made an appointment for four o'clock at the register office. I'm due back from Wellington Wednesday week, and a day and a half at the office should enable me to tidy up any loose ends. Unfortunately I can't extend that particular weekend by much more than a day or two, but during the Christmas vacation we'll get away for a couple of weeks. How does Queensland's Gold Coast sound? Or perhaps you'd prefer Acapulco or Hawaii?' 'You're not serious!' Jenny exclaimed haltingly. 'About our marriage—unequivocally,' he voiced adamantly. Jenny bit into the steakburger as her panic-stricken eyes searched his desperately. 'Where—where are we going—after the ceremony?' she stammered slightly seconds after swallowing convulsively.

Zachary's mouth curved into a wide mocking smile and his teeth gleamed whitely as he answered. Somewhere quiet and for away from here—where you'll only have me for company,' he drawled significantly, and leant down to catch a stray tendril of Jenny's hair back behind her ear. 'When you've finished that,' he indicated her steakburger, 'we'll attempt to find some space and dance, hmm?' Jenny shot him a startled look as he caught the hand that held her steakburger and lifted it to his mouth to take a satisfyingly large bite. She was about to take the last mouthful when there was a murmur of voices beside her and a muffled exclamation as an arm jolted accidentally against her. For an agonising second Jenny didn't feel the scalding hot coffee cascade over her forearm, then she had to clench her teeth against the pain as the skin burned with an excruciating intenseness. She felt rather than heard Zachary's quick indrawn breath, and knew she was white-faced as she turned to reassure the concerned girl apologising profusely at her side. 'It was an accident,' Jenny managed with remarkable calm. 'Really, it's all right,' she assured Zachary blindly as he led her towards the house and through the kitchen to a magnificently tiled bathroom. In a matter of seconds he had filled the basin with cold water and plunged her arm into it right up to the elbow. Then he turned and took a gauze bandage and a sterile dressing from a glass-backed cupboard and added a roll of plaster and some scissors. 'Leave your arm there for a whiles—fifteen minutes, at least,' he bade sombrely as he turned to face her, and his eyes raked over the paleness of her face. 'I'll be back in a few minutes.' Jenny nodded mutely and looked at the large welt several inches above her wrist. It hurt abominably, and by the time Zachary returned she was close to tears. 'Drink this,' he held the tumbler to her lips and Jenny choked as the fiery liquid hit the back of her throat. When she regained her breath he replaced the tumbler to her lips and held it there until the last drop was taken. 'Brandy—again?' Jenny quipped musingly as the potent liquid spread a warm relaxing glow through her body. 'With you, I'm not sure which is more difficult to handle,' Zachary slanted down at her. 'The effects of the brandy, or an attack of nerves—both tend to have equally predictable consequences.' 'You're hardly a settling influence, Zachary Benedict. In fact, I find you totally devastating!' Jenny Smiled up at him captivatingly. 'Is that so?' he drawled quizzically. 'This conversation tends to prove illuminating. Do continue,' he ordered calmly as he crossed his arms and leant against the wall. 'No, I shan't,' Jenny refused somewhat emphatically. 'You're far too arrogant as it is after years of being assured by countless females just how charismatic your masculine magnetism is, so you can do without my endorsement!'

Zachary's subdued shout of laughter echoed round the room and his eyes were frankly teasing as they rested upon her features. 'You won't admit it, Jenny, but your fate is very firmly sealed. I have you exactly where I want you, and you know it!' 'Not completely, you haven't,' she felt compelled to add, and her eyes sparkled witchingly. 'I'll remind you of that remark in two weeks' time,' he threatened lazily as he let the water out from the basin and carefully dried her arm Jenny watched in idle fascination as his strong hands applied the sterile dressing and placed a square of gauze over it, fixing it firmly with a few holding strips of plaster before winding a gauze bandage around her arm to protect the dressing. A further few strips of plaster held the bandage in place, and Jenny dried her hands as Zachary replaced the articles back into the cupboard. Jenny thanked him nicely, and choked on the last word ,as he lowered his head and kissed her very thoroughly. The remainder of the evening was rather hazy—no doubt due to the effects of the brandy she had consumed. Jenny seemed to recollect dancing close within the protective circle of Zachary's arms for much of the time, and she found it hard to believe that it was three o'clock in the morning when the last of the guests took their leave. Jenny subsided wearily on to the settee in the lounge while she waited for Zachary to dismantle the stereo speakers and tape-recorder in the garden. It was so comfortable and so easy simply to lay her head down against the cushioned arm. The burn above her wrist still stung a little, but it no longer bothered her much, Hmm, it was comfortable, and perhaps she could doze for a few minutes until Zachary was ready to take her home to the fiat, she mused dreamily. CHAPTER 7

Jenny awoke to the sound of repeated tapping at her door, and dazedly she tried to orientate herself with her strange surroundings. This wasn't her bedroom, nor was it her bed! A quick glance revealed that she was still partially dressed, and in a flash it dawned on her that she was here in Zachary's home and that there was someone wishing entry into the room. 'Who—who is it?' Jenny queried hesitantly, and heard to her relief the sound of Mrs. Lowry's voice from the other side of the door. 'Come in,' Jenny called, and searched hurriedly for something to put on over her scantily clad body.

Mrs. Lowry set the coffee down beside the bed and smiled a little at Jenny's discomfiture. 'Good morning, Jenny. I'm sorry to have to waken you, but Mr. Benedict wants to leave immediately after lunch, and as it's now eleven-thirty I thought you'd like to rise in time for a shower. I've freshened up your skirt and top with the iron, and I've brought you a towelling robe. You'll find everything else you need in the bathroom.' Jenny swallowed convulsively, 'Thank you, Mrs, Lowry.' 'That's quite all right, dear. When Mr. Benedict found you were sleeping so soundly, he didn't have the heart to waken you,' Mrs. Lowry explained kindly. 'Is—is Mr. Benedict—Zachary, I mean—is he still in bed?' Jenny queried tentatively, and started visibly as Zachary's tall frame appeared in the doorway. 'Good morning, lazybones,' he drawled imperturbably, and entered the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 'I was beginning to think you intended to sleep the day away.' Jenny slid abruptly down in the bed and drew the covers protectively up to her chin, and her eyes searched his a trifle anxiously as Mrs. Lowry left the room. He looked totally invincible, and clothed in black suede trousers and a black body-shirt casually unbuttoned at the neck he appeared vaguely piratical. 'You should have woken me and taken me home,' Jenny voiced hesitantly, and nervously plucked at the hem of the sheet. 'I tried, Jenny-wren—believe me,' he looked down at the picture she made lying there with her golden-brown hair splayed out against the pillow. 'You simply muttered in your sleep and burrowed your head more deeply into the cushion,' he reflected wryly, then shrugged his shoulders negligently. 'How's the arm this morning?' he queried, subtly changing the subject as Mrs. Lowry appeared in the doorway with Jenny's skirt and halter-necked top over her arm. 'It feels all right, thank you,' Jenny answered politely, and blushed at the quizzical mocking gleam he directed down at her. Was there nothing that could upset his apparent calm? Didn't he care that she might be embarrassed at having spent the night unchaperoned in his home, or what obvious conclusion Mrs. Lowry must have formed? 'Propriety, Jenny-wren?' Zachary drawled enigmatically, and there was a hint of wryness in his tone as his lips curved into a slight smile. 'Had I intended to seduce you it would have been in my own sizeable bed, and you wouldn't have wakened harbouring any doubts about where you were—or with whom,' he finished quietly, and Jenny cast him an anxious glance—if she were not mistaken there was definitely an underlying threat in those quietly spoken words! 'I—I think you're the most—most impossible man I've ever met,' Jenny choked indignantly, and coloured painfully as he traced her lips with a gentle forefinger.

'Undoubtedly,' he affirmed complacently, rising to his feet and moving towards the doorway. 'I'll check that' dressing on your arm when you're ready.' Jenny watched him cautiously, sure of the turmoil within her. at his provoking presence. Almost as if he could read her thoughts he turned, and there was a devilish glint in the depths of his dark quizzical eyes. Then he was gone and the door had closed with a soft click behind him. Jenny lay surveying the door contemplatively for a few seconds before throwing back the covers on the bed and swinging her legs to the floor, loving the feel of the luxurious shag-pile carpet beneath her feet. It seemed strange to be sitting opposite Zachary at the breakfast table eating a delicious bacon and mushroom omelette followed by toast and coffee. 'The first of many,' Zachary slanted across at her as Jenny sipped her coffee, and she was tempted to reply impishly. 'You're very sure of that, Zachary Benedict, What if I prefer toast and coffee in bed?' 'I daresay that could be arranged on occasion,' he intimated with a blandness that was belied by the sudden flaring of his eyes as he caught and .held her gaze. Jenny almost choked on a mouthful of coffee, and when she regained her composure Zachary was regarding her laconically, his face creased into laughter and his eyes agleam with sheer devilry. 'If you've finished your coffee,' he laughed softly as he watched the delicate colour tinge her cheeks, 'we'll get on our way. You will want to collect some clothing from your flat before we leave for Tauranga.' Jenny pulled a face at him and successfully masked the havoc he seemed to cause within her. Perhaps it was just as well he would be away for a week—at this rate she would end up as a completely nervous wreck! At the flat she packed with haste, folding clothes into a suitcase, shoes, lingerie—selecting at random something suitable to wear to dinner that evening. The dress of indian muslin with the crochet-lace insertions seemed ideal as the long sleeves would cover the dressing on her arm. She was acutely aware of Zachary's presence as he strolled about the flat idly checking that the windows and the back door were securely fastened. With a decisive snap Jenny closed the clasps of her suitcase and gathered up her make-up bag. There, that seemed to be everything. 'Ready?' Zachary enquired from the doorway, and Jenny nodded as she handed him the larger of the two suitcases. With controlled ease Zachary sent the Mercedes-Benz purring south-west towards the southern motorway, and the miles flew quickly by as they sped through the lush green countryside. Shortly before they passed through Paeroa it began to rain lightly, increasing in volume until it was raining steadily and

it did not let up at all until they were almost to Katikati, and then the sky began to clear in patches of blue. The outskirts of Tauranga were endearingly familiar and when the Mercedes-Benz turned into the Meredith's driveway Jenny felt strangely shy. Almost on cue both her mother and Jane flew down the steps to the car and there was a tearful greeting for her from her mother and an ecstatic hug from Jane. Jenny stood by the car and formally introduced Zachary to her mother, feeling bemused and rather at a loss as both Mrs. Meredith and Jane exclaimed over the magnificence of her engagement ring. She could tell Zachary had made an impact with her mother. It was quite incredible that somehow in the space of a few minutes they had seemed to communicate almost by mental telepathy—that her mother's slight questioning seeking glimpse into Zachary's eyes had been answered by a steadfast gleam of reassurance from his. That there had been and would be no need for words between them over her welfare. Once inside the house the suitcases were hastily placed into their respective rooms—Zachary was to have Jane's room, and Jane would occupy the spare bed in Jenny's room. Then Mrs. Meredith took out her best cut-crystal glasses in which to drink the champagne Zachary produced from the car. 'Health and everlasting happiness to you both,' Mrs. Meredith smiled at them as Jenny stood firmly clasped to Zachary's side, her fingers intertwined in his, and she felt warm and wonderfully secure. 'A boy for you,' Jane smiled gently towards Jenny, 'and a girl for you, Zachary,' she smiled charmingly up at him, and her eyes took on an impish gleam as she espied Jenny's slight blush. Jenny felt Zachary's fingers strengthen their clasp on hers and her pulse quickened and raced at the thought of him fathering her children. She felt her breath catch as he leant down and kissed her fleetingly, and there was a latent sensuality in the touch of his lips upon hers. 'What more could a man wish for than two golden-haired angels with their mother's smile and that tantalising dimple?' he asked, lightly touching the slight dent on her left cheek. 'Or two dark-haired terrors with their father's determination,' Jenny flashed up at him. 'I bet you were a perfectly horrid little boy!' 'I managed to survive,' he drawled tolerantly, and the corners of his mouth twitched with barely concealed humour. 'That reminds me,' Mrs. Meredith chuckled good-naturedly as she sipped the sparkling liquid. 'Go and get the photograph album, Jane,' she bade laughingly, and shook her. head at Jenny's silently mouthed emphatic 'no!'

'Good as done,' Jane replied flippantly, and was back within minutes carrying the, thick red leather-bound album which much to Jenny's chagrin was spread out on the coffee table and the contents exclaimed over and details related to Zachary with friendly family fervour. Oh, that he should smile with amusement at a snap of her at six months old lying blithely unconcerned on a shawl as naked as a jaybird! 'I see you possess dimples elsewhere,' he directed towards her in a low laughter-choked undertone. 'Your turn will come, Zachary Benedict—just you wait!' Jenny threatened him caustically, for her embarrassment was very real. It was silly, really, to feel so foolishly gauche over her mother's pride and joy—a lifetime collection of family photographs. By the time her first school photographs were unfolded within the pages Jenny was smiling, and to her surprise when the snaps that included Max were revealed she could look at his familiar face and feel nothing. No hurt pride, not even the slightest flicker of regret—nothing. If perchance he could walk through the door she could greet him as a friend and be glad that he had taken the initiative to break their engagement. 'I'm taking a day off at the end of this week, Jenny,' Jane told her sister as they were changing in their bedroom a short while later. 'If it's okay with you, I'll stay over a couple of nights and fly back early Monday morning. I want to do some shopping in the city on Friday.' Jenny grinned companionably at her sister's reflection in the mirror as they both began to apply make-up. 'Great. Quite frankly I'll be glad of your company. Zachary leaves early Tuesday morning for Wellington, and the time will drag as he won't be back until the following week.' 'At least I'll be able to see you married before I leave for Australia,' Jane sparkled as she brushed mascara on to her lushes. 'Mother says it's to be at a register office. Have you decided what you're wearing?' Jenny's eyes flicked wide in surprise. Truth to tell she hadn't given that a thought! 'Exactly what I imagined,' Jane laughed spontaneously at her sister's reflection. 'We'll go shopping together this Friday evening—perhaps you could work through your lunch-hour and get off an hour early?' she suggested as she turned her attention to her hair. 'Possibly,' Jenny allowed thoughtfully, and stepped into her dress, Turning to allow Jane to slide home the long zip-fastener at the back. 'Did Zachary mention to you that he'd suggested Bob and Elvira Hamilton join us tonight? Kind of him to think of it,' Jane commented as she hooked the tiny hook into the eye above the zip. 'Thanks, Jane,' Jenny murmured as she wound her hair into an elaborately contrived knot, and when entirely satisfied with the result eased a few strands free from behind her ears and used Jane's electric curler so that an elegant curl wound tantalisingly down below each earlobe.

'There,' Jane breathed in satisfaction of their appearance a few minutes later. 'I think we'll both pass muster very nicely.' Jenny eyed her sister and smiled kindly across at her. 'You look lovely, Jane. That shade of green does wonders for your skin and highlights the rich auburn of your hair.' Jane leaned forward and gave Jenny an affectionate hug. 'You're a sister in a million, Jenny. You deserve all the happiness in the world.' Jenny grinned and replied laughingly. 'Hey, what is this—a mutual admiration society?' Jane's voice gurgled with laughter as she caught up her evening bag and crossed to the bedroom door, 'Come on,' she beckoned lightheartedly. 'We'd both better rescue Elvira from Zachary's fatal charm. She's susceptible to handsome sophisticated men, and no doubt by now she's feeling terribly tongue-tied and shy,' 'Jane!' Jenny expostulated mildly, and would have spoken further had Jane not interrupted merrily. 'It's true! She's such a romanticist, it's unbelievable. If Zachary doesn't watch out, he'll find himself described as a dashing swashbuckling hero in her next historical novel!' 'In that case,' Jenny smiled gently across at her sister, 'I'm sure he would feel flattered.' The evening was a huge success, and Jenny felt instinctively that any doubts her mother might have entertained prior to meeting Zachary were now completely dispelled. Mrs. Meredith appeared relaxed and at ease, and seemed to be regarding Zachary as the son she would have chosen had she been fortunate enough to have had a son of her own. Incredible as it was, in all the years Jenny had known Max, not once could she remember her mother regarding Max in the light she was now regarding Zachary. And it wasn't because of his wealth or rather exalted profession—of that Jenny was positive, for Mrs. Meredith was no snob. Jane once remarked that should the Prime Minister and his wife perchance call in at the Meredith residence, her mother would smile nicely and enquire kindly if they would like a cup of tea—-just as she would do for anyone else, with no fuss or bother! 'Dare a friend intrude on those innermost thoughts?' The sound of Bob's teasing voice brought Jenny back to the present and she cast him an apologetic glance as they circled the dance-floor. 'No innermost thoughts to intrude upon, Bob,' Jenny assured him smilingly. 'I was thinking how well Mother seems to have taken my engagement to Zachary,' she went on to explain as her eyes followed Zachary's splendidly tailored figure as he guided her mother amongst the dancing couples. 'He's a great guy, and I mean that,' Bob assured her earnestly. 'It couldn't have happened to two nicer people—you and Zachary,' he hastened with enthusiasm. 'Mostly everyone miscasts him as an elusive rake, and I suppose it's suited him to assume such a role— heaven knows, he's in constant demand socially.'

'Nice to know you approve,' Jenny teased wryly a few minutes later as they weaved their way back to the table, and her eyes sparkled up at Zachary with a wickedness that caused him to quirk an enquiring eyebrow. 'And what, may I ask, was all that about?' he chided mockingly as they drifted together in the centre of the dance-floor some ten minutes later. Jenny lifted her head, and an imp of mischief dared her on. 'I do believe Bob felt honour-bound to discount all your previous rakish misdemeanours as a form of social precedence,' she began, the dimple deepening as she grimaced unrepentantly. 'Naturally, as a married man, you'll be a reformed character and become a model husband!' 'You, my dear Jenny,' Zachary drawled dangerously as his hold tightened with gripping intensity, 'are intolerably close to the spanking you deserve for those few ill-chosen remarks.' Jenny's stomach somersaulted and dived in a disastrous downward arc. Remorse over the inane comments she had made caused her to lower her head in shame. Of all the silly inconsequential things to say! What on earth had possessed her tongue to utter those words—worse, what could she say now in an attempt to retract them? 'I'm sorry,' she managed in a subdued whisper, and her voice was muffled with unshed tears as she fixed the silken knot of his tie with a blurred unwavering stare. 'And so you should be,' Zachary slanted wryly at her downcast head. 'I could hardly blame you if—if—' Jenny faltered, momentarily lost for words, and feeling agonisingly bereft at having angered him. 'For what could I hardly be blamed?' he questioned inexorably, but there was a hint of wry humour evident in his voice as he rested his lips on the top of her head. 'Spanking me,' Jenny's voice was so quiet he had to bend down closer to catch her words. 'And you believe that I would,' he commented sardonically. Jenny lifted her head and met his gaze, and there was mute appeal mirrored in her eyes. 'I think you could be very cruel if you wanted to be,' she managed unsteadily after timeless seconds, and her voice sounded wobbly with emotion even to her own ears. Zachary shook his head from side to side. 'Jenny, Jenny,' he chided gently. 'You confound me. Half child, half woman—you employ contrary tactics, the consequences of which you're at a loss to fully understand,' he concluded wryly. Jenny blinked slowly, feeling immeasurably hurt that he should consider her immature, and she was only slightly appeased when his mouth descended on hers in a loss that held a tenderness tinged with exasperation. How could she ever expect to compete with his level of sophistication ? Her lips trembled beneath his and almost as if he could read her thoughts he lifted her head, his dark eyes

trapping the momentary indecision in her anxiety-clouded hazel ones. Miraculously his expression softened and he brushed his lips against hers in a fleetingly sensual caress. 'I think we'd better continue this later,' he mused somewhat thoughtfully. 'We have an audience.' Jenny was hardly aware of time after that, for the remainder of the evening retained a dream-like quality where she was conscious only of Zachary's presence. Perhaps it was the wine, she mused lightheartedly, or the lilting pulsing music. Whatever it was, it was something close to heaven to dance so closely within Zachary's arms—to feel loved, and wanted, and needed, and to be almost totally unaware of her surroundings. It was late when they left the restaurant, and as they drove Elvira Hamilton home Zachary and Mrs. Meredith graciously accepted Elvira's offer to partake coffee with her. It seemed incredible that they were at Elvira's home, for almost two hours, talking and laughing at Elvira's amusingly recounted anecdotes of her recent trip to Greece. Unbelievably it was almost three-thirty when they arrived home after dropping Bob off at his parents' home. Mrs. Meredith yawned prodigiously and offered several apologies in the vein that she was unused to late nights. Jane cast both Zachary and Jenny an outrageously wicked grin and disappeared from the lounge close on the heels of her mother. 'I'd better go, top,' Jenny spoke indistinctly as Zachary drew her towards him, his hands moving caressingly down her back as his lips sought and found the nervously beating pulse beneath her throat. It seemed an age before he released her and gave her a gentle push towards the hallway. 'I think that would be very advisable,' he teased her idly, and his voice softened as a tell-tale blush stole over her cheeks. 'Sweet dreams,' he bade indulgently as he bent down to push her tumbled hair back behind her ears. Jenny's strangled 'good night' was torn from her lips as she turned and fled, and safely in her room felt unaccountably relieved that Jane's steady breathing indicated, that she was fast asleep. A sisterly exchange of confidences in the form of an amicable inquisition was something she just couldn't face right now! CHAPTER 8

The few hours spent with Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan the following day Were a delight for all concerned, and after a huge lunch Uncle Dan commandeered Zachary for a tour of inspection of the farm.

'You'll have to do without him for a while,' he twinkled across at Jenny as she stacked plates from the table. 'Marvellous sense of timing these men possess, wouldn't you say, Aunt Madge?' Jenny shook her head despairingly as she hid an infectious grin. 'Oh, undoubtedly,' Aunt Madge agreed soundly. 'Wouldn't have a clue what women's liberation is all about. Doomed,' she continued complaisantly, Ho fetch and carry for them, that's to be our lifetime task.' , -Away with you, women!' Uncle Dan expostulated in mock anger. 'One of the species at a time I can abide with; two, I tolerate; three, I regard with caution; but four of you altogether is a gaggle of gossiping femininity I can definitely do without!' He swept an arm to encompass the four most affectionately regarded women in his life and cast them each a benevolent smile. 'This poor misguided man at my side doesn't know what he's letting himself in for, marrying into such. a family. I reckon I'm protecting Jenny's interest by spiriting him far, far away from you all for the next hour.' 'Out! Out from my kitchen, Daniel Farrell.' Aunt Madge shook with suppressed laughter and her eyes were bright sparkling pools of merriment. 'You see?' Uncle Dan besought Zachary. 'Women! Never could make up their minds! Hopeless it is, to try to understand the creatures!' Zachary's barely concealed mirth got the better of him and he began to chuckle as he accompanied Uncle Dan from the kitchen, and the women could hear the two men's joint laughter as they left the house. Not wishing to be the pivot of attention, Jenny skilfully drew the conversation from herself and Zachary to Jane and her proposed Australian trip, and Aunt Madge voiced her support for the venture. Having spent two years in Australia on a working holiday in her single days, Aunt Madge proved to be a valuable ally, and by the time the men returned over an hour later Mrs. .Meredith was convinced Jane couldn't put a foot wrong. Zachary had no hesitation in insisting that Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan be present at the register office for the wedding, and he was cordially adamant that they make use of his home for that weekend, along' with Mrs. Meredith and Jane. Jenny had the distinct impression that her loving family were as. determined for her to marry Zachary Benedict as Zachary himself She perceived that in the face of such unity she didn't stand a chance of not becoming Mrs. Zachary Lucien Benedict! Zachary drove them back to Tauranga after they had eaten a light evening meal, and as there was need to rise early the next morning to ensure they reach Auckland before nine o'clock it took little encouragement for them all to retire within half an hour of arriving home. Jenny found the long drive back to Auckland in the early hours of the morning strangely refreshing, considering her hectic weekend and surprising lack of sleep. It was almost magical to witness

the earth come alive as they sped through the slumbering countryside. The first flush of spring was already past, but the whole of nature's beauty was there for the eye to see. The cheeping of young chicks and the protective clucking of a mother hen could be heard as they passed a farmhouse close to the road, and in a nearby paddock young calves shied and ran, unsure of their direction on long spindly legs. Miles further on lambs gambolled and skipped with gay abandon, energetically climbing the gentle green-grassed slopes. The recent rains of winter were responsible for the lush pasture, and as the road swept deep into the country away from the townships, it was possible to reason why the Dutch navigator Abel Tasman on discovering this land named it Nieuw Zeeland after the Netherland province of Zeeland. 'New' Zealand—for even today there lingered a newness in virgin bush where rare native birds nest and few men have ventured. Away from the steel and concrete jungle of the cities there rested an almost lazy, peaceable air—a kind of 'tomorrow will come, but it can't be hurried' feeling that reflected itself in the unruffled speech of the true countryman. Tranquillity was becoming increasingly difficult to find, but in a country which depended largely upon its farming exports to survive, it was still possible to find relatively secluded beaches in the height of summer. True, the get-away-from-it-all place? were becoming further away from the cities than they used to be, but a single hour's drive from the centre of any of New Zealand's cities could bring seclusion. The pride and intelligence of the Maori placed him equal to his white brother, the Pakeha, and it is something of national pride that the average New Zealander can explain the meanings of Maori place-names. Soft-sounding and lyrical, they roll smoothly off the tongue and personify the very nature of the Maori people themselves. Of all nature's ocean jewels, New Zealand was indeed an emerald isle. Jenny almost viewed with regret the outlying townships as they neared Auckland, The southern motorway was heavy with city-bound traffic, the noise of a teeming metropolis becoming more apparent as they passed through the heavy industrial areas of Penrose and Otahuhu. The inner city seemed to be a crawling mass of slow-moving vehicles en route to car-park buildings and private parking facilities. It needed a knowledge of various traffic lanes, a definite destination in mind, and a wealth of patience to negotiate the inner city with any success. As Zachary parked the car Jenny glanced at her watch, and was surprised that it was only a quarter to nine. In a way she felt guilty that she had offered little by way of conversation during the drive from Tauranga, but their silence had been a companionable silence shared with ease. As they walked put on to the pavement outside the parking building Zachary Caught fast her hand in his. 'I've a busy day ahead of me, Jenny. It would be impossible to try to meet you for lunch, and I doubt I'll have the opportunity to telephone at all. At the end of the Hay come up to my office and we'll have dinner somewhere in town before going home.' The traffic lights changed, and the pedestrian 'cross now' signal' became illuminated, and the jostling crowd of people didn't allow much chance for conversation. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, and as Jenny stood beside Zachary in the downstairs entrance foyer of their office building she felt extraordinarily sensitive to the curious glances cast in their direction. She could almost imagine What

they were thinking—'there stands Zachary Benedict, but who is the girl at his side?' Nor could she hide the almost forlorn look in her eyes as she stepped out from the elevator and turned back to smile a hurried 'goodbye' to Zachary. For some strange reason she felt unprotected and very vulnerable. 'Ridiculous,' she mentally chided herself. 'You're being absolutely ridiculous.' There were butterflies fluttering about inside her stomach and she felt like a scared schoolgirl on a dreaded visit to the dentist as she stepped through the door into the outer office. Her sudden engagement, the need to give Grant Ogilvie notice of her intention to leave work the following Thursday, and what loomed perhaps as the worst ordeal of all was explaining her forthcoming marriage to the other girls in the office— especially revealing just who she was to marry. Unconsciously Jenny braced herself as she walked into the office Suite and forced a ready smile to her lips. Suzy was busy on the telephone transferring a call and Judy was at her desk uncovering her typewriter. Of Lise there was no sign as yet, and Jenny felt slightly relieved. Grant Ogilvie arrived late, and Jenny lost no time in acquainting him with a few pertinent details regarding her need to leave the firm's employment the following week. He seemed genuinely delighted and congratulated her warmly, offering her time off should she need it. The firm had connections with an excellent employment agency which specialised in. supplying temporary secretarial staff at short notice, he elaborated, and Jenny felt slightly overwhelmed. It didn't take long for Judy to sight the magnificence of Jenny's engagement ring, and there were surprised murmurs of congratulation from Judy and Lise, and Suzy's ecstatically voiced felicitations brought a laughing smile to Jenny's lips. There was one bad moment when, after being sorely pressed to reveal her fiancé's identity, Jenny felt honour-bound to disclose that the man in her life was none other than Zachary Benedict. Lise's lips tightened into a thin, almost cruel line and her blue-grey eyes held a chilling glint before Jenny deliberately looked away and voiced the need to carry on typing from the dictaphone. Judy's suggestion that the girls should have lunch together by way of a celebration was enthusiastically received by Suzy, but as Jenny expected Lise coolly declined. There were sparks of barely concealed animosity in the depths of Lise's eyes, and Jenny tried desperately to ignore it, assuring herself for the most part that it was her own imagination. However, towards the end of the day Jenny had had enough of the occasional cool stares and calculatingly insinuative remarks Lise directed towards her, and Jenny was becoming increasingly angry. Determined not to reveal exactly when she was due to leave the firm, she successfully managed to allude to a possible date in the vague future,, but she had reckoned without Lise's dogged persistence and by the time the girls stopped for their afternoon-tea break Jenny was heartily tired of trying to keep the wedding date a secret. At a few minutes after five she placed the cover over her typewriter with a feeling of extreme relief, glad to be able to escape to the women's staff powder room down the hallway outside the office suite. Thank heavens the day was over! She would freshen her make-up and re-do her hair, then take the elevator to Zachary's office. It was bliss to unpin her hair and brush it with long careful strokes, and

gradually she began to feel the tension ease. Another minute in the explosive atmosphere Lise had created would have had Jenny boiling into angry speech! 'Oh, I thought I'd still find you here.' The voice was coolly indifferent, and Jenny felt a surge of extreme irritability as she turned to see lose move towards her and place her bag on the shelf above the washbasins and peer intently at her reflection in the wide mirror running the width of the room. 'I really can't imagine how you managed to snare the head of the Benedict empire,' Lise observed unflatteringly as she examined the polish on her nails. Jenny tried to contain her temper, rationalising that the other girl was a victim of her own jealousy. 'Lise, I—' she began matter-of-factly, but she was rudely interrupted as Lise turned and viciously attacked her verbally. 'Oh, don't bother explaining any of that romantic twaddle to me!' Her eyes flashed dangerously as she jabbed the air close to Jenny's face. 'He'll soon tire of your charms, just as he's tired of the countless women before you. So he's prepared to put a ring on your finger —so what!' She almost spat with derision. 'Divorce is a fact of life these days. Personally, I'll give you six months —if you should be so lucky.' 'And will you stand in line to pick up the pieces?' Jenny asked with deceptive calm, inwardly just barely controlling a primitive urge to slap the girl. 'I should warn you that you'll have a mighty long wait—for ever, in fact,' she concluded with sincere conviction. 'I can see why he chose you,' Lise's voice thickened with fury. 'You come on very strong as the ideal mothering type—babies, and slippers warming before the fire. That will pall before long, and then you'll sit at home night after night wondering who his latest mistress is!' 'Will you leave—or shall I?' Jenny asked coldly. 'This room suddenly seems overcrowded.' Lise grabbed up her bag, carelessly sweeping Jenny's shoulder-bag from the shelf on to the floor so that the contents spilt out and rolled in all directions. Without a word of apology the other girl crossed the room, kicking away any articles that happened to lie nearby, and flounced out of the door. Jenny pressed shaking fingers to each temple in an attempt to shut out the scene. Such hatred! Unenviable vindictive vengeance rearing its ugly head in a deliberately cruel attempt to upset another's happiness. It took several long minutes before Jenny gathered her shattered wits together and bent down to collect the scattered contents back into her bag. Luckily nothing was broken, although the plastic top of her lipstick had cracked and no longer fitted firmly, but that was only minor compared to what could have happened, she thought shakily. Several attempts were necessary to freshen her make-up, for her fingers fairly shook with nervous reaction, and it was almost fifteen minutes to six before she pressed the button to summon one of the elevators to transport her to Zachary's office suite on the uppermost floor of the building.

The front glass-panelled door of the suite was closed, but a touch on the electronic bell brought an elegantly dad woman within a few short seconds to allow Jenny entry. 'Miss Meredith?' Jenny nodded and moved inside, smiling as the woman introduced herself. 'I'm Sarah Armitage, Mr. Benedict's accountant. Mr. Benedict is expecting you, although he has a client with him at the moment. Would you care for a drink? Coffee, or perhaps a glass of sherry?' Sherry? Jenny felt the tension within her ease a little as she followed Sarah Armitage down the carpeted hallway to a magnificently furnished lounge with several comfortably upholstered deep-seated chairs, and what appeared to be an exceedingly well-stocked liquor cabinet along one wall. 'A light sherry will be fine, thank you,' Jenny voiced appreciably, briefly admiring the view over the Waitemata Harbour. The cats on the harbour bridge seemed small from this distance and there were two large passenger liners berthed at Princes Wharf. A fishing launch was returning from an all-day excursion, and no sooner had it pulled alongside the landing-steps than a passenger ferry moved swiftly away from its loading berth en route for Devonport on the North Shore. 'It is a very attractive scene, don't you think?' Sarah Armitage remarked as she handed Jenny a crystal goblet of clear amber-coloured sherry. 'Please make yourself comfortable. If you'll excuse me, I'll let Mr. Benedict know you've arrived. He shouldn't keep you waiting very long,' she smiled kindly, and left the room with a gracious efficiency, a lingering faintly exotic fragrance drifting witchingly across the room and Jenny wrinkled her nostrils in appreciation. Exclusive and expensive, she perceived. There were a few magazines in a neat pile on the long low mahogany table and Jenny selected one and sank into a luxuriously sprung armchair by the plate-glass window, idly flipping through the numerous glossy pages devoted in the main to attractively displayed advertisements. She sipped the sherry gratefully, feeling its light potency begin to relax her still jangling nervous system. Dear heaven, she exclaimed silently-— if she had to encounter any more Lise-type reactions she was going to need the patience of a saint! Zachary's enforced absence during the next week didn't bear thinking about. Jenny was unsure whether to view it as a blessing in disguise, or a burden to be impatiently borne. For one madly impulsive moment she considered going to Wellington with him, even if it meant literally walking out on her job. Then reason ruled, and she sighed fatalistically. It wasn't part of her personality to walk away from anything with an unclear conscience. Jane was due in Auckland on Friday for the weekend, and perhaps a telephone call to Dianne and George would bring an invitation to visit one evening through this week—that would leave only a few evenings unoccupied. 'Pleasant thoughts, I hope?' Zachary's voice drawled from the doorway, and his eyes were darkly contemplative as they rested on her expressive features. 'Tough day?' he queried lightly as he moved into the room and poured himself a drink from the cabinet, then turned to regard her thoughtfully.

Jenny smiled and managed a light negligent shrug. 'So-so,' she averred cautiously, and her eyes widened fractionally as he strolled towards her and settled himself casually down on to the arm of her chair. Her heart lurched crazily as he leant forward and brushed his lips in a fleeting caress to the sensitive exposed nape beneath the thick chignon of her hair. 'How "so-so"?' he enquired ruminatively, and Jenny cast him a startled glance as he caught her chin and tilted it upwards. 'When you stepped out from the elevator this morning you reminded me of a lamb about to be fed to the lions,' he observed wryly. 'Even now, there's a slightly haunted look lurking beneath the surface. Lise?' he questioned inexorably, and Jenny grimaced momentarily. 'Right first time,' she choked a little on the lightly forced laugh as it escaped from the back of her throat, and was powerless to stop her bottom lip from trembling. Zachary stifled a sharp imprecation and his eyes never left hers for a second. 'That bad?' he observed cynically, and for a brief second his eyes flared vibrantly alive in anger. Jenny swallowed compulsively and tried to make light of it. 'You just don't present a very plausible husband-and-loving-father image. That possibly might be achieved by the time you're a balding grey-headed paunchy old man straddling grandchildren on your knee,' she declared with some spirit, and saw the smile on his lips reach up into his eyes to set them twinkling darkly. 'And while I'm a balding grey-headed paunchy— paunchy?' he demanded on a chuckling note of incredulity—'old man, what, pray, will you be?' 'A nicely rounded white-haired wrinkled harassed old lady chasing after our grandchildren,' Jenny sparkled in amusement. 'I think the lamb has emitted a lion-like roar,' Zachary laughed softly as he bent his head to claim her lips with an expertise that left her starry-eyed and more than a little breathless. 'Finish your drink,' he instructed musingly some minutes later. 'We'll go somewhere quiet for dinner, and then you shall meet my doting grandmama.' Jenny looked up at him in surprise, her eyes widening in astonishment, and he traced a line along her cheekbone with an idle forefinger. 'You find it strange that I have a grandmother?' her teased gently, and his eyes held hidden laughter as they beheld her confusion; 'You've never mentioned any relatives at all. Somehow I imagined—' Jenny paused awkwardly and tried to hide her embarrassment. 'What, Jenny-wren? That I was placed here from the nether regions as the devil's advocate ?' Zachary chuckled deeply and caught her hands as she attempted to extricate herself from his grasp.

'You do it deliberately, don't you?' Jenny accused a trifle irrationally as she stood still within the circle of his arms. 'You rise to the bait so beautifully—I find the temptation sometimes difficult to resist,' he murmured appeasingly, and she felt his lips rest on her hair and then trail tantalisingly down to the lobe of her ear before he released her. 'Come, child. I have strict instructions to present myself at Grandmama's door at precisely nine o'clock, with you at my side and a bottle of her favourite imported French champagne beneath my arm.' Jenny grinned engagingly and reached up to straighten his tie. 'She sounds quite—' Zachary tweaked back a stray lock of hair that had escaped from its now slightly dishevelled chignon and interrupted her sardonically. 'She's a thoroughly incorrigible and at times outrageously outspoken old lady, but a darling nevertheless,' he concluded with a measure of affection. 'A like resemblance to her grandson, in other words,' Jenny shook her head in mock, despair. 'And I thought there was only one of you to contend with,' she twinkled up at him unrepentantly, and uttered an indignant 'ouch!' as he nipped the lobe of her ear none too gently between sparkling white sharp teeth. 'I've news for you, Jenny Meredith,' he drawled quizzically. 'I have a sister in America who is impatient to become an aunt, and yet another sister living in Switzerland having only recently married a Swiss industrialist—I attended the wedding just two months ago,' he elaborated patiently. It was precisely three minutes before nine when Zachary turned the Mercedes-Benz into a long curving driveway high on the brow of the hill overlooking St. Heliers Bay. An imposing colonial residence of considerable size stood revealed in the powerful beam of the car's headlights, and as the car crunched to a halt outside the front entrance the door was flung open by a middle-aged woman whom Zachary introduced immediately as Hattie Carmichael—distant relative, nurse and general factotum. -She's quite beside herself Zachary,' Hattie hastened rather worriedly. The old dear began clock-watching as long as an hour ago, and she's worked herself into quite a state.' Zachary unhurriedly led Jenny inside to the magnificent entrance hall, and from there directly through to a large luxuriously furnished lounge. Jenny was aware of Hattie following them anxiously and also that Zachary murmured reassuringly over his shoulder, but nothing prepared her for the shock of meeting Zachary's grandmother. Shock was the only word Jenny could coherently use to describe her reaction to the tiny exquisitely dressed old lady seated regally upon an amply cushioned wing-backed velvet-upholstered chair. The white hair was beautifully coiffured and her eyes were a bright vivid blue and as sharp-sighted as they had ever been. There was still a gracious beauty in the lined face, and the hands she extended in greeting were liberally adorned with sparkling diamond rings.

'At last you're, here!' she exclaimed with a degree of impatience. 'Come over here, child, where I can see you properly,' she commanded Jenny irritably. 'Grandmama, meet Jenny Meredith,' Zachary drawled lazily, and deliberately stood back as Jenny moved forward to greet the old lady.; 'My paternal grandmother,' his voice vouchsafed affably 'I'm very pleased to meet you,' Jenny said quietly, and placed her hands into the outstretched hands of the old lady, almost wincing as her fingers were gripped and shaken. 'Am I so formidable that you must whisper?' the old lady demanded. 'My name is Nina Benedict, and as you are soon to become one of the family you may call me Grandmama.' She looked across at Zachary with those piercingly vivid blue eyes and beckoned him imperiously to her side. 'I hope you remembered the champagne. I refuse to salute your happiness and my future greatgrandchildren with anything other than Dom Perignon.' Zachary smiled gently down at her and caught Jenny's hand in his. 'I doubt that I would have dared to arrive without it, Grandmama,' he declared lightly, his eyes lighting with humour. 'Bah!' Nina Benedict snorted regally. 'Don't be sassy with me. Hattie, fetch the glasses. I have only one' grandson, and after twelve years spent impatiently waiting for him to present me with his choice of a wife, he springs the occasion upon me a matter of days before the wedding !' She lifted her hands in a gesture of despair. 'I hope you don't entertain any of these modern notions, girl.' Jenny was subjected to an extremely sharp-eyed glance. 'I've set my mind on holding my first greatgrandchild in my arms come this time next year.' Incorrigible wasn't the word, Jenny thought a trifle wildly. This tiny little bundle sitting supported in her cushioned chair was nothing less than a matriarch! 'Twins have a habit of appearing every second generation within my family, so I'm told,' Jenny mentioned to the top of Nina Benedict's snowy-white head, then lowered her eyes fractionally to gaze directly into the vivid blue ones barely a few feet away. 'Perhaps I'll be able to oblige you with two great-grandchildren at the same time,' she finished sweetly. The pair of vivid blue eyes sparkled with suppressed devilry. 'Yes, that would be delightful. I don't suppose you could arrange it so that there's one of each?' 'As the mere father, will I have any say in the matter?' Zachary drawled laconically as he took the glasses from Hattie and placed them on the marble table, then proceeded to uncork the champagne. Jenny shot him a demure glance from beneath her lashes and met the dark promise gleaming wickedly in the depths of his eyes, and felt momentarily lost for words as the breath caught in her throat and her carelessly amusing reply died on her lips. The mere thought of him as a lover sent her pulse racing and inglorious colour flooded her cheeks. Oh, why did he possess the power to render her speechless, and to feel about as poised as a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl!

'You see, Grandmama? Between us, we've managed to embarrass the poor girl,' Zachary murmured on a mockingly contrite note as he handed a glass of sparkling liquid to each of them. Hattie smiled kindly and a little sympathetically at Jenny and lifted her own glass as she waited for Nina Benedict's toast. 'It is not many young women who can be so easily embarrassed these days,' Nina Benedict voiced tardily, sweeping her gaze from Zachary to Jenny, and her lips lifted into a slight smile. 'You will do very well, Jenny Meredith. It seems that if I'm to believe a half of what I hear, it's more than time this grandson of mine settled down!' She lifted her glass high, and her voice rang surprisingly clear. 'May you both be blessed with love everlasting; health and happiness be with you always.' The glasses clinked gently together and Zachary echoed a totally serious 'Amen', before bending down to drop a singularly sweet kiss on Jenny's softly parted lips. She felt her eyes widen into large poignantly expressive pools as they met her dark eloquent gaze only inches away. There was warm passion in the lambent depths of his dark eyes, a seriousness visible that had no need of words. 'I have decided,' Nina Benedict's voice intruded resourcefully, 'that I shall arrange a wedding reception here after the ceremony. Just family, of course, and perhaps a few very close friends. Hattie and I will consult together tomorrow and begin making all the arrangements. You, Jenny, will leave your telephone number with Hattie. No,' she held up her hand as Zachary made a murmur of protest, 'I'm determined not to be thwarted. An old woman must be allowed to enjoy what pleasures are left, in what surely must be the last few years of her life!' There was a hint of defiance apparent as she drew herself proudly erect and tilted her chin, almost daring them to deny her. Zachary breathed a slightly exasperated sigh and gently chided the determined old lady. 'Grandmama, such an arrangement would prove too much for you, and I know the doctor would be in agreement with me.' He leant a conciliatory hand forward and gently rubbed her lined cheek affectionately. 'If it pleases you, Jenny and I will bring the four members of her immediate family here for a few drinks after the service. Hattie can organise some hors d'oeuvres, but that's all,' he admonished sternly. 'No elaborate buffet, no other guests—is that clearly understood?' Dark brown eyes challenged a pair of startlingly vivid blue, and Jenny found herself unconsciously holding her breath as she waited to see which pair would waver first. 'Oh, very well,' Nina Benedict gave in, albeit gracefully. '-You're every bit as overbearingly bossy as your father and grandfather before you, I only hope,' she cast Jenny a speculative glance, 'that that hint of auburn in those glorious tresses denotes an independence of spirit.' Zachary chuckled deeply and squeezed Jenny's hand reassuringly. 'Indeed it does, Grandmama. It took quite considerable persuasion to convince Jenny that my intentions were serious—and honourable,' he added sardonically, and slanted a quizzical glance down towards Jenny, 'She wasn't at all sure I wasn't Lucifer himself, and didn't hesitate to voice her disapproval of me!' Nina Benedict laughed delightedly and paused to sip champagne from her glass. 'No doubt that presented a somewhat startling change! I declare, Zachary, that you might well have met your match,'

she added with great satisfaction, twinkling a delightfully vivacious smile towards Jenny. 'And now, my children, you must indulge a decrepit old woman and reveal to me some of your plans. I presume you intend leaving the practice in capable hands for a few days?' She turned to Zachary and added one query after another in slightly breathless tones until he held up his hand. 'Enough, enough! You'll be told all in good time,' he chided gently, and Jenny detected a slightly anxious note as he leant down and took his grandmother's hand. 'You mustn't overtire yourself—think of those greatgrandchildren! And now we must leave,' he said firmly, bending forward to brush her hair with his lips in an affectionate gesture. Jenny impulsively followed his action and was rewarded with a decidedly watery smile from the old lady. Hattie accompanied them to the door and wished them a cheerful 'Goodnight' before turning back to attend to the preparations necessary in getting her valued charge into bed. The large car sped swiftly in the direction of Bucklands Beach and Jenny sat in contemplative silence during the relatively short journey. There seemed so many questions she wanted to ask of Zachary, yet in a way she felt hesitant to voice them. And now that she had had time to give the matter some thought, it seemed somewhat unsettling that Zachary had expected Lise might cause mischief. Jenny felt a lump rise in her throat and swallowed convulsively. There was no doubt Lise had been more than a casual acquaintance, and Jenny felt bound to concede it was probable Lise had shared more than an occasional dinner. Much more! Oh, damn, damn, damn! Why did she want to cry? Here it was their last evening together until he returned in little more than a week's time, and she had to spoil it by childishly resorting to tears. The car drew to a halt outside her flat and she heard Zachary request coffee, and her answer was monosyllabic as she escaped from the car. Inside the flat, Jenny moved quickly into the kitchen and busied herself setting the electric kettle to boil and fetched cups and saucers from a cupboard, all the time willing herself to obtain some semblance of control over her chaotic emotions. Her heart leapt and raced erratically as Zachary's hand reached out to switch off the kettle before moving to close over the bones at her shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him. 'I thought as much,' Zachary slanted gently as he lifted her chin. 'Come, my Jenny-wren—out with it,' he commanded in a dangerously soft voice, and his eyes darkened with barely concealed anger. 'If it's Lise that's bothering you, I'll ring Grant Ogilvie and terminate your employment as of now. What's more, I'll put you on an early morning plane to Tauranga and you can stay safely at home with your mother and Jane until I collect you next week!' Jenny blinked up at him in confusion. 'You can't do that!' she exclaimed. 'What on earth would they think?' 'The devil with what anyone thinks!' he returned brusquely. 'I'll not have you harassed into becoming an emotional wreck by Lise—or anyone else for that matter. I've half a mind to whisk you off down to Wellington with me—at least there I can keep an eye on you,' he concluded wryly.

'You make me sound like a runaway child,' Jenny grimaced huffily, whereupon she was shaken none too gently. 'Child is the operative Word,' Zachary voiced cynically. 'Right at this moment I don't know whether to make love to you or to haul you across my knee and render a thorough spanking! Perhaps it might be an idea to follow one with the other,' he added musingly, his eyes openly challenging her. 'You wouldn't dare!' Jenny choked, and felt, thoroughly alarmed at the leashed passion beneath the surface of his control. 'You'd better believe it, Jenny-wren,' he warned softly. 'Listen to me carefully, for I don't aim to make a habit of issuing such explanations. Lise was nothing more than a passing attraction, and despite what she might like to hint to the contrary, we shared a few drinks and two, possibly three dinners together—that's all. Now— do I deposit you in the bosom of your family for the next week, or will you accompany me to Wellington?' Jenny searched those dark eyes above hers and slowly shook her head. 'No, Zachary, I'll stay here. Jane is due in Auckland on Friday for the weekend, and I thought I might visit my cousin on the North Shore one evening this week. If I don't stay,' she added a trifle sadly, 'anything else will seem like running away.' Zachary's lips met hers, gently at first, then with an intensity that drowned out all rational thought. When at last he lifted his head she could only gaze up at him speechlessly, powerless to utter anything coherent. 'If I don't go now,' he murmured wryly, trailing a teasing forefinger across her trembling lower lip, 'nothing will stop me from spending the night in your bed, after which you would find yourself unceremoniously deposited on to the plane tomorrow en route to Wellington with me!' He kissed her hard on the mouth, then straightened and turned away. 'I'll put a toll call through on Wednesday evening. Take care, Jenny,' he commanded gently from the doorway, and was gone before she could utter a single word of goodbye. CHAPTER 9

Surprisingly Lise was away from work the following day —migraine, Suzy confided to Jenny over their morning cup of coffee. Judy snorted derisively and voiced her doubts that Lise's absence was due to anything other than sour grapes over Jenny's engagement to Zachary. It was something of a relief not to have to do verbal battle with Lise, although Jenny had given the matter considerable thought and decided to avoid contact with the girl at all costs.

A telephone call through the day from her cousin Dianne brought an invitation to dinner that evening and Jenny accepted gladly, although she knew the news of her engagement would bring astonishment and conjecture. Even Dianne and George had heard of Zachary Benedict, and Jenny spent most of the evening listening to Dianne extolling the social excellence of the people Zachary mixed with and how incredibly lucky Jenny was to have met such a man. Jenny sat through it all with apparent calm and pleaded a headache shortly after ten o'clock so that she could make good her escape. It was partly true in any case—Dianne's incessant chatter had given her a headache! Lise returned to the office on Wednesday, and much to Jenny's relief she chose to ignore Jenny completely. It didn't exactly make for happy working conditions, but Jenny philosophically reasoned that she far preferred Lise's silence to the girl's spitefully barbed comments. Zachary's call came through shortly before seven that evening, and the sound of his voice sent Jenny's spirits soaring high into the clouds. 'Jenny?' The deep timbre of the voice so close to her ear brought the colour rushing to her cheeks. 'Yes. Is that you, Zachary?' 'Don't you recognise my voice, Jenny-wren?' he drawled calmly, and Jenny could detect a humorous slant in his tone. 'We—we haven't spoken together very often oil the telephone,' she stammered in a rush, and his low answering chuckle did crazy things to her senses. 'Neither we have, Jenny. However, don't let it bother you, for there's years of practice ahead of you.' Jenny gulped and clutched the receiver a little tighter. 'How was the flight down?' she queried, feeling suddenly shy. 'Calm and immemorable,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Any further repercussions with Lise?' 'No. She—she didn't come in yesterday, and today she deigned not to speak to anyone very much—me, least of all,' Jenny replied with a spark of humour. 'She'd be well advised to keep it that way,' Zachary declared implacably, before continuing gently, 'Missing me, Jenny-wren ?' 'Yes,' she replied simply. 'Perhaps it's just as well there's several hundred miles separating us,' he commented significantly, and there was a certain wryness in his voice. 'This conversation is singularly lacking in that I can hear you, but can't touch you.'

Jenny smiled into the receiver and couldn't resist teasing. him a little. 'A little abstinence… Zachary Benedict,' she grinned at her own reflection in the hall mirror. 'That is soon to be remedied, Jenny Meredith,' he implied with an emphasis that sent the colour flooding her cheeks. 'I think I'd better let you go,' Jenny concluded on a slightly strangled note. 'Even at a distance, you're more than I can handle.' 'Jenny-wren, I do believe you're blushing. Are you?' He chuckled deeply and Jenny replied rather tartly, 'I don't intend to tell you.' 'Relax, my angel,' he murmured possessively. 'Has Hattie contacted you yet?' 'No, but I went over to Dianne and George's place last night straight from work—Hattie could have tried to ring while I was out.' 'She'll probably suggest you might like to visit while I'm away. Grandmama has a trinket-box filled with mementoes she looks forward to reminiscing over with various members of the family, and as you're the latest addition she'll no doubt extend an, invitation. There's also an album of family portraits,' he drawled cynically, 'that will enable you to follow the record of my boyhood pursuits.' Jenny laughed delightedly. 'In that case, I'll accept Hattie's invitation with relish, Zachary Benedict,' she replied impishly. 'I rather expected a reply of that nature,' Zachary responded dryly. 'I'll be in touch over the next few days. Pleasant dreams, Jenny-wren.' As she replaced the receiver Jenny sighed expressively, the aching yearning that his voice aroused was only slightly appeased by the fact that two of the eight days had already passed. At this rate, how was she to get through the remaining six ? Events took a surprising turn during the next day in that the expected invitation from Hattie was forthcoming for that same evening, and late afternoon a toll call from Tauranga heralded a rather anxious conversation with Mrs. Meredith. It appeared that Max's father had suffered a heart attack the previous day and had regrettably passed away during the early hours of this morning. The funeral was arranged for Saturday afternoon, and Jenny's first reaction was to refuse when her mother indicated that she felt it necessary both Jenny and Jane should attend. Somehow it didn't seem quite fitting as she was soon to be married to someone else. Surely at a time like this Max's mother would not wish to be reminded of such things, but Mrs, Meredith assured Jenny that the invitation had been extended to Mrs. Meredith and family. Jane would come to Auckland early Friday morning as planned and would stay overnight with Jenny, thus enabling both girls to drive home Saturday morning. Jenny felt trapped, but conceded that as Max's mother had expressly invited the Meredith family then she supposed she should attend.

'Problems?' Grant Ogilvie's voice intruded into Jenny's rather pensive thoughts as she stared vacantly at the sheet of paper she had just rolled into her typewriter. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' Jenny turned apologetically. 'Do you want me to take dictation?' 'No, I've put it on tape. I'll be out of town tomorrow, so I'll be staying back an hour or so tonight. Any chance you might be able to fit in a couple of hours' overtime, Jenny?' Grant queried hopefully. 'Ordinarily, I wouldn't ask, but I know Zachary Benedict is in Wellington. If you could manage it, I'd be very grateful.' Jenny smiled kindly at him as the glimmering of an idea began to form and she didn't hesitate to put it into words. 'Well, I do have an invitation for seven-thirty this evening, but I don't mind as long as I can get away at seven. Would you mind if I had tomorrow afternoon off in lieu of overtime pay? My sister is due from Tauranga for a day's shopping, and I'd rather like to join her for a few hours if I could.' Grant Ogilvie shot her a cheerful grin and nodded his head in agreement. 'Permission granted—it would be churlish of me to refuse.' Jenny returned his grin and bowed her head in acknowledgment. 'Thank you. I'll work straight through, astray invitation tonight includes dinner.' Grant Ogilvie sighed expressively and shrugged his shoulders. 'You realise that I'll probably never find another secretary who's as amenable with her working hours as you are? Just as I'm congratulating myself on having found the perfect secretary, the most eligible bachelor within the legal profession snaffles you up to conspire the state of matrimony with him!' 'If you continue in that vein, I'll begin Jo think Zachary's motives are more inclined to lie with my proficiency in typing legal documents than performing wifely duties,' Jenny slanted quizzically, then wrinkled her nose in an attempt at hurt pride and returned her attention to more mundane things. She caught Grant's slight chuckle before he turned back towards his office.

Nina Benedict and Hattie Carmichael, welcomed Jenny with a friendliness that was most gratifying, and after an elegantly served meal followed by strong sweet coffee! with a dollop of cream, Jenny seated herself comfortably beside Zachary's exceedingly frail looking grandmama and carefully examined the album of family portraits. Zachary as a babe in arms became a toddler clad only in nappies, and at the age of three locked positively angelic. The angelic pose began to disintegrate somewhere about age seven, and by the time he reached grammar school there emerged a clean-cut determined young man whose school photographs depicted a natural ability towards several sports, and even as a teenager there was a decidedly devilish gleam in those dark not-so-innocent eyes. Nina Benedict's trinket-box was something else, and Jenny's sensitive spirit captured with ease the nobility of Nina's native Poland; the glamorous balls, the gay parties that had been an integral part

of Nina's girlhood prior to the dark days of World War One. There was an emerald pendant presented as a gift from a European Grand Duke; a bracelet set with rubies which had been a coming-of-age gift from a Prussian baron. There were rings, each featuring splendid stones and each having a particular significance. The hurried flight by her family from Poland at the onset of the First World War took them to England and there Nina met and married Lucien Benedict. Their only son Thaddeus had been born on New Zealand soil a few short months after Nina and Lucien emigrated, and it was Thaddeus who began his career as a promising young barrister and solicitor and founded the legal firm that today Zachary presided over as the head partner. A cruel hand of fate had taken Zachary's parents some ten years ago in a plane crash over central Europe in which there had been no survivors. Jenny looked into the vivid blue eyes not far from her own and asked of Nina Benedict gently. 'Have you never wished to go back—to Poland, I mean, just to visit?' Nina Benedict's eyes lit with a mixture of joy and sadness. 'I did go back, almost twenty years ago, with Lucien. I had told him so much, you see, that he wanted to see for himself. Ah, my dear—it was not the same. I think I had expected to walk back into another era, to find the same familiar faces behind the same doors— but it was not so. Many of the homes—they were not even there. My friends, all of my relatives—all gone. Names, just names that no one knew or remembered.' She sighed. 'After that, my dear Lucien took me to France, then Italy, Spain, Greece. We were away for more than a year, then we came home—but I could not forget even then. Somehow, seeing for myself that it was no longer the same made the memory of what had been so very sad. Now, even if I could, I would have no wish to travel. I am content with my life—so very grateful that I can say that with conviction. I had a wonderful husband, pride in my soil, my grandchildren—my memories, they are so very precious. The love we shared—so very special. Not that we talked about it—we had no need to. It was there in the look, the touch, the words we didn't say. Some search all their lives for such a love and never find it—but you, my dear,' Nina reached out and took one of Jenny's hands. 'You have found it with Zachary, and he with you—I know. Treat it gently, and with the respect it deserves—for there is no greater gift on this earth? Jenny felt the tears spring to her eyes and she lifted the small skin-wrinkled hand that held hers up to her lips. 'Bless you, my child,' Nina said gently, and looked across the room as Hattie came forward. 'I know, I know. It is time for you to see me to my bed. Zachary will bring you to see me before the wedding—I shall tell him so, myself. Goodnight, my dear, I have enjoyed your company immensely.' Jenny stood to her feet and leant forward to lay an impulsive kiss against Nina's cheek, and was rewarded with a singularly sweet smile. Hattie walked to the front door with Jenny and bade her an affectionate 'goodnight', and waved from the door as Jenny set her car moving down the driveway. It didn't seem to take very long to reach her flat, and as Jenny stepped on to the steps leading to the front door there stood a large cellophane-covered spray of flowers with a card tucked inside. With slightly shaking fingers she unlocked the door and took them into the kitchen. A dozen beautiful long-stemmed red roses nestled beneath the

clear cellophane and she removed the card with care, her eyes filling with tears as she read the scrawl—'Yours, Zachary.' Jane was suitably impressed when she followed Jenny into, the flat the next evening after an exhaustive shopping spree which heaped the lounge-settee high with variously assorted wrapped purchases. 'Zachary?' Jane breathed enviously, and when Jenny nodded she let out a whistle of appreciation. 'Nice. Very, very nice.' With a sigh she sank into an armchair and eased her shoes off and wriggled her toes in ecstasy. 'Thank heavens I managed to accomplish all I set out to buy,' she confided with pleasant exhaustion across the room to Jenny, who likewise had collapsed into the remaining armchair and was gently easing her feet free from her shoes. 'And we finally found something we could both agree upon as being suitable for you to wear next Friday. And me,' she concluded ungrammatically. 'Jenny, do you imagine we could retrieve that bottle of wine from amongst the pile over there without too much trouble? A glass of Moselle would go down very nicely,' she murmured appreciably. Jenny stood slowly to her feet and eased her aching limbs. 'I'll fetch the glasses and a corkscrew while you attempt to find the wine.' In a few minutes she returned and stood idly watching Jane sort through the rapidly scattering parcels. 'Jane,' she began contemplatively, and her hazel eyes clouded slightly. 'Is it possible, do you suppose, that Max's mother doesn't know that I've become engaged to someone else?' Jane discovered the elusive bottle and waved it delightedly in the air. 'Oh, I should think so. Mrs. Enfield is one of Mother's friends, and a member of the same bowling club—I should say that if Mother hasn't given her the news, someone else has by now.' The bottle was extracted from its wrapping paper and Jane brought it over for Jenny to uncork. 'Why ? If anyone needs to feel guilty, it certainly shouldn't be you, Jenny, Max jilted you, not the other way around. In any case, you're attending the funeral as a mark of respect for his father. Personally, I wouldn't give the matter another thought,' she concluded emphatically.

Jenny was to ponder wryly over Jane's words as she mingled among the guests in her ex-fiancé's home after the funeral service the following afternoon. She should not have been surprised that Max had flown home to be with his mother on such a sad occasion, and she cursed herself for being placed in such an awkward position. True, both Mrs. Meredith and Jane had seen to it that Jenny was not left standing alone after Max had greeted her like a long-lost love, but it was only a matter of time before he discovered she was engaged. It was plain that his mother hadn't acquainted him of the fact, although hardly surprising in view of her recent bereavement. If only Jenny could escape from this house and the crowd of people it would be a simple matter, for she had no wish to give Max any explanations now. 'Don't look round, Jenny,' Jane mouthed quietly, and her eyes veiled barely suppressed anger as she faced her sister. 'Max is very determinedly making his way towards you. Want me to stay?'

Jenny hid a wry grimace and gave a slight shrug, 'Would you hazard a guess from his expression that he's been told I've not been sitting at home pining my heart out?' 'Hard to say,' Jane only just managed to reply as Jenny felt a hand on her arm, and she turned to find herself face to face with Max. 'I've been trying to speak to you during the past half-hour, but with little success.' Max spoke quietly, attempting to lead Jenny to one side, but she very firmly withdrew her arm from his grasp. 'We have to talk, Jenny,' he said desperately. Jenny shook her head and was able to look him directly in the eye. 'No, Max,', she said seriously, and marvelled at how calm she felt. 'There's nothing to talk about.' It was true, she concluded. There was nothing there at all, not even a faint stirring of regret for what might have been. Only tremendous relief, an overwhelming gratitude that fate had somehow lent a hand in preventing their marriage. He seemed a stranger she had known momentarily a very long time ago, and she could even feel a kindness towards him. Ironical, she perceived with a vivid flash of humour. 'Jenny,' Max pleaded almost in anguish, 'there has to be. I was a fool, and I'm sorry—deeply sorry.' There was deep sincerity evident in his expression. 'Look, I realise we can't talk here, but I'll be able to get away for an hour or so tonight and we can talk then. I must see you,' he ended on a note of desperation. 'Max,' Jenny shook her head again and removed her hand from within his grasp, 'it's over—finished,' she said gently, not really enjoying the hurt she was causing. 'I'm engaged to someone else, Max. We're to be married at the end of next week,' There, it was said. His expression of incredulity gave Jenny no satisfaction of her totally unintentional revenge, but Max wasn't to know that and his barely suppressed anger was very real. 'My God! You didn't waste any time, did you?' he exclaimed with little caution, and his eyes mirrored his inner wretchedness. He lifted a hand and ran it through his fair curly hair, and then repeated the gesture. 'I'm not giving you up, Jenny—not easily. I'll come to your house tonight, and we'll talk,' he repeated angrily, and his fingers bit into her arm in an attempt to emphasise his determination. 'Don't do that, Max,' Jenny warned him, and felt her own temper begin to rouse at his obstinate refusal to let things rest. 'For one thing it would be a wasted visit, and for another you should stay at home with your mother this evening. Besides,' she added firmly, 'I'll be out.' She hadn't planned it, but now she would commandeer Jane and her mother into visiting Elvira Hamilton for the evening. 'Tomorrow, then. I'll call alter lunch and we'll go to the beach,' Max persisted stubbornly, and Jenny shook her head emphatically as she anxiously searched the room for signs of her mother and Jane. Whether they were ready or not, she was leaving! At that precise moment Jane caught her arm and Mrs. Meredith arrived beside Max.

'Ready, dear?' Mrs. Meredith enquired calmly, and although she appeared quite serene her eyes were bright with anger as she surveyed Max with an unwavering stare. She seemed on the verge of saying something, then checked herself and forced a light smile as she wished Max goodbye. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Jenny.' Max's urgently spoken words were regarded with equanimity, and Mrs. Meredith matched them with thinly veiled regret. 'I'm afraid that won't be possible, Max. The girls and I have an extremely busy day ahead of us tomorrow arranging last-minute details for Jenny's wedding next week and Jane's departure for Australia in ten days' time. I'm so pleased for your mother's sake that you've come home. She needs her children at such a time.' So saying, she placed each hand on Jane's and Jenny's arm and led the way outside to the car. 'Well, really!' Mrs. Meredith exclaimed indignantly as she set the car firmly in the direction of home. 'I endeavoured to contain myself out of respect for his late father, but should Max dare to come to the house I'll certainly tell him a thing or two!' 'I'll make sure I'm around to add a few comments of my own,' Jane expostulated angrily from the back seat. 'Who does he think he is, anyway?' she queried recalcitrantly. 'He thoughtlessly jilted Jenny at the last minute, and then imagines he can wipe all that out by saying he's sorry and pick up where he left off. The cheek of it!' 'I distinctly remember telling Ethel about Jenny's engagement at our bowling tournament last Monday, but in view of Bert's sudden death it's hardly surprising that it might have slipped her mind. It was obvious Max hadn't been told. Oh dear, now I feel dreadful that I insisted you come down for the funeral, Jenny,' Mrs., Meredith sounded so remorseful that Jenny leant forward and patted her mother's shoulder reassuringly. 'Don't feel so badly. You weren't to know, and in a way I'm quite pleased. Once I'd got over the shock of Max breaking our engagement I felt immeasurably relieved, and now that I've seen him again it has endorsed that feeling a thousandfold,' she added with great sincerity—adding, 'And that would apply whether I'd met Zachary or not.' 'It's a great shame Zachary is away,' Jane voiced with conviction. 'If he'd been here he would have riveted Max with an icy stare that spoke volumes, and poor Max wouldn't have dared cast an eye in your direction, much less have attempted to speak to you.' Jenny began to laugh, and soon Jane and Mrs. Meredith joined in. Jane's apt description had caught their imagination, and in reality their laughter was a release of tension the past hour or so had brought. Over a cup of tea a short while- later they planned what was left of the weekend, ensuring that they were to be absent from the house for much of the time. Elvira Hamilton appeared delighted to receive their company after dinner that evening when Mrs. Meredith telephoned her and asked if they

might all come over for an hour or so. As was usual when in Elvira's company, an hour or so became several hours, and they returned home well after midnight pleasantly tired and any thoughts of Max well to the back of their minds. They rose late the following morning, and it was almost ten o'clock before they left the house with a picnic lunch en route to Mount Maunganui for the day. It didn't take much persuasion for Jenny to decide to travel back to Auckland early on Monday morning, despite the suspicion she held that Zachary might conceivably ring her at the flat tonight. He had known Jane was due in Auckland for the weekend, and when there was no answer should he decide to ring he would undoubtedly assume they were out visiting or perhaps taking in a Sunday movie in the city. The day stretched lazily ahead, and Jenny decided to make the most of it sunbathing. Mount Maunganui, Or 'the Mount' as it was affectionately known amongst the local residents, was a mountain reserve of no mean proportion at the far end of a gently curving isthmus branching out from the mainland to partly enclose the large central North Island port with its long concrete-stressed wharves. Directly across the harbour from the mountain itself lay the long pine-tree plantation island of Matakana, protecting the Tauranga Harbour from the tip of Katikati Entrance right down to Mount Maunganui. The other side of the isthmus was exposed to the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean and was well known to holidaymakers for its excellent surfing conditions. By mutual agreement they chose a fairly isolated spot on the oceanside down towards Omanu, and Mrs. Meredith sat in her folding deckchair beneath the shade of a sun-umbrella contentedly reading a paperback 'whodunit' while Jenny and Jane lay stretched out, on their respective beach towels well creamed with sunscreen cream soaking in the sun's warm rays. It was a glorious day, the sky a deep blue which reflected itself en to the ocean below, and there was just a whisper's breath of a breeze to tease the spray from the gently pounding breakers at the water's edge. The spasmodic cries of the wheeling gulls as they dipped and curved into the shallows below held a strange poignancy. Jenny closed her eyes and successfully shut out the world around her, summoning Zachary's image to mind with an ease that had devastating results. The dark gleaming eyes in his beloved face seemed to glow and she could almost sense those sensuously moulded lips curve into a twisted smile, and hear the deep voice hint with humour—'Well, Jenny-wren?' The touch of his hands on her felt so real as to be almost tangible, and such thoughts brought about a restlessness within her that was hard to bear. What was he doing to' occupy his weekend—sailing the harbour with friends; playing golf, or perhaps he too was sunbathing on a distant beach? 'Hurry home, Zachary Benedict,' Jenny bade silently. 'I need you.' 'Do you think it would be possible,' Jane's voice intruded into Jenny's thoughts with curiosity, 'for Mother and me to stay on at your flat for a few days after you leave with Zachary on Friday?' Jenny sat up and hugged her knees as she gave Jane her undivided attention. 'Mother and I will catch the early morning plane on Friday and we'd planned on spending the night in your flat afterwards, but I've been thinking that as I leave for Australia only a few days later with

Sue and Emma— perhaps we could stay on until Tuesday? It seems rather silly to come back to Tauranga on the Saturday only to come up again either Monday or early Tuesday morning. What do you think, Jenny?' Jane queried vexedly. 'I can't see that there would be any problem—the rent is paid up until the end of that week, and I'll tell the agency the flat will be vacant from the day after you leave for Australia,' Jenny suggested as she rewound her hair into a tidy knot at her nape. The sun was beginning to lose -some of its warmth and she reached for her towelling robe, then slid her sunglasses up to rest in, her hair as she turned towards her mother. 'Do you want to stay here much longer, Mother? I'd like to wash my hair beneath the shower before tea, and an early night definitely appeals. Jane?' Jenny stood to her feet and began gathering their things together as Jane nodded and followed suit. It had been a wonderful carefree family day,and Jenny felt rather sad that it was probably the last of its kind. Their evening meal of scrambled eggs on toast was followed with coffee in the lounge watching television, and the sound of a car halting in the driveway shortly after seven brought a murmur of surprise from Mrs. Meredith. Jane shrugged her shoulders and implied that Bob was away with his parents for the weekend, and both Sue and Emma Were unlikely to call without first telephoning to. make sure they were home. Jenny felt her heart sink as she recognised Max's voice mingling with that of her mother's in the hallway, and she mentally braced herself when they came into the room. Mrs. Meredith looked slightly flustered, and Jenny could tell that Max had all but forced his way in. 'There are some things I must make clear to you, Jenny,' Max began a trifle pompously, and Jenny looked at him in sheer wonderment. 'I thought I made it quite plain yesterday that—' Jenny began warily, but he held up a hand as he interrupted her. 'It still doesn't alter what I have to say, Jenny. Look, can we go somewhere where we'll be alone?' he implored anxiously, but Jenny shook her head as Max quirked an eyebrow, in the direction of her mother and Jane. 'No, we can't. Whatever you want to say will have to be said here, Max. I'm to be married in another five days, and nothing you can say will alter that,' she said convincingly as she met his eyes squarely. 'I think I'll go and check thoroughly clothes for work tomorrow,' Jane said quickly, and beat a hasty retreat in the direction of her bedroom, and Mrs. Meredith indicated a need to write a letter to her sister Madge. 'Jenny,' Max pleaded softly .when only the two of them were left in the lounge, 'I love you—no, please,' be begged desperately as Jenny would have voiced a sceptical denial, 'I opted out, and I realise that could hardly have endeared me to you, but I soon discovered my mistake. I'd already

booked a flight back when I got the news about Dad.' He moved closer and put out a hand to touch her arm, and when she made no demur he attempted to draw her into his arms. Jenny extricated herself smartly and stood eyeing him pensively. 'Max, you should never have come here. I don't particularly want to hurt your feelings, but you have to understand that I don't love you. We were friends, Max—teenage friends with a mutual liking for each other's company that somehow developed into an affection between us,' she pleaded with him to understand. 'It wasn't love, Max. We might have thought that it was for a while. You'll meet the right girl some day,' she prophesied gently. 'There's a whole world out there.' Max looked across at the girl whom he could have sworn he knew as well as he knew himself, and slowly shook his head in disbelief. 'You really mean it, don't you? You're not just saying that because I ran out on you.' He sank into an armchair and buried his head in his hands. 'Jenny, Jenny,' he groaned in despair, 'I love you, damn, it. I won't let you go,' he finished brokenly, and Jenny turned away in an endeavour to shut out the heartrending figure he presented. The silence in the room seemed to last forever as Jenny schooled herself to say the words she felt must be said if she was to penetrate his emotions. It wasn't particularly easy for her to be cruel, but she was somewhat encouraged by Max's own careless disregard for her feelings by choosing such a thoughtlessly inconsiderate way to end their engagement. 'I don't love you, Max,' she began carefully, swinging back to face him. He watched her pathetically, dejection evident as he silently waited for her to continue. 'If you're honest with yourself, and with me, you have to admit that you had doubts about our intended marriage —otherwise you could never have taken off at the last minute without so much as a word of explanation. You didn't even possess the courage to face me—you posted a short little note which you knew hadn't a hope of reaching me until you were well out of the country.' Jenny paused to push a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, and her eyes were expressively anxious as she willed him to understand. 'After Mother and I cancelled all the wedding arrangements,' she saw that he had the grace to shift uneasily in the chair and could no longer meet her eyes. 'I packed most of my clothes and took a fiat in Auckland,' she went on calmly. 'The last thing I was looking for was a romantic attachment with any man, and I fought against it with everything I had. You see, I wasn't very willing to trust anyone,' Jenny smiled in reflection, and marvelled that she could smile now as the past few weeks appeared before her eyes in rapid flashback. 'I'm sorry, Max,' she said with genuine regret, and as the silence dragged into minutes when he failed to make any attempt to speak to her, Jenny raised a tentative hand in a silent pleading gesture. Max's eyes sparked immediately alive as he caught sight of the magnificence of Zachary's ring on her finger, and his expression became slightly derisive. 'That's a mighty expensive piece of jewellery you're wearing. Well-heeled, is he?'

Jenny flushed with anger. 'It wouldn't make any difference to me whether he had plenty of money or not,' she flung at him furiously, and tried to hold on to her temper. If it were possible she would prefer they didn't part at the end of a bitter raging row. 'Oh, don't give me that,' Max laughed grimly, and standing to his feet he all but leapt across the spade separating them to pin Jenny's arms helplessly to her sides. His mouth became hard and relentlessly cruel as his lips evoked no answering response. By remaining perfectly still and not even attempting to fight him her lack of emotion was more than he seemed capable of accepting, and after what seemed an intolerable length of time he flung her away from him with a gesture of self-disgust. 'All right, you've made your point. I won't add my felicitations for a happy future—they wouldn't be sincerely meant,' he concluded angrily as he moved towards the door, where with one hard backward stare he turned and banged out of the house. 'It had to happen,' Jenny gestured wearily as Mrs. Meredith and Jane appeared in the lounge a few minutes later, their faces creasing anxiously as they saw Jenny's whitened face. 'I knew yesterday that his pride was hurt —that he'd make a further attempt to see me.' Defeated, she brushed a shaking hand over her hair and sank into a nearby chair, her eyes huge darkened pools mirroring a certain sadness. 'I should have driven back to Auckland this afternoon,' she looked across at her mother and the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 'How about a glass of sherry? I think We could all do with something alcoholic V Jenny managed a rueful grin in Jane's direction. 'Don't look so angry, sister dear. I'm still in one piece—he only tried to kiss me, and when' that proved a disaster he appeared to get the message and left!' 'Thank heavens you're well rid of him,' Jane breathed with sisterly fury as she retrieved a bottle of sherry from the cabinet and, uncorking it, poured a generous measure into each off the three glasses Mrs. Meredith held out. After one glass of sherry Jenny began to relax, and by the time she'd almost finished consuming a second it was considerably later in the evening and the combination of a day at the beach and the effects of the sherry were making her feel decidedly sleepy. 'I'm off to bed—oh dear,' Jenny yawned prodigiously and sat up in the chair. 'Don't get up in the morning, I'll get myself away. I'll meet you at the airport on Friday morning,' she stood slowly to her feet and stretched her arms up above her head. 'Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan are due to arrive at the flat around midday—I meant to tell you, Mother, that I'd had a letter from Aunt Madge confirming that she and Uncle Dan will come up for the wedding,' Jenny smiled across at both her mother and Jane. 'Goodnight,' she said tiredly as she blew them each a kiss and left the room. One way and another it had proved to be a weekend of surprises, and Jenny couldn't help feeling glad that tomorrow would take her back to Auckland and another day closer to Zachary's return. CHAPTER 10

Monday seemed interminable after making such an early start, and Jenny longed for the end of the afternoon to come. Grant Ogilvie had had a full dictaphone ready and waiting on her desk when she arrived at nine, and half-way through the morning had added a sheaf of variously assorted court documents to her in-tray. Judy seemed to be nursing a shocking cold and gave in gracefully at lunch-time and caught a taxi home. There was such a mound of typing to get through that Jenny had little time to brood over the events of the weekend, or to give more than a fleeting thought to the fact that Zachary might telephone during the evening. Fleeting though the thought was, it served to get her through the remainder of the day and shortly before six o'clock Jenny slid the cover over her typewriter and flexed her aching shoulders. Only three more working days until she would cover her typewriter for the last time. Pleasant daydreams drifted around inside her head as she rode the elevator -down to street level and made her way across to the parking building. Zachary had alluded musingly to a faraway secluded destination, but had not named the place he intended transporting her to after the ceremony. There were so many things she needed to know —things they hadn't discussed at all. Jenny pondered over whether Zachary would require Mrs. Lowry to remain on as housekeeper after they, were married, and. children—did he share Nina Benedict's wish that they present her with a great-grandchild if possible within the next year? The traffic at this hour was reasonable and Jenny let herself into her flat twenty minutes after leaving the parking building. Lunch had been a hurried sandwich and a cup of coffee, and now she felt absolutely ravenous! A quick sortie into the cupboards and the refrigerator revealed a choice between eggs, tinned spaghetti, tinned baked beans or tinned sweetcorn—none of which really held much appeal. There was a take-away shop only a short drive away, and the decision made, Jenny picked up her shoulder-bag and collected the car-keys from the kitchen table. A nice big juicy hamburger with some chips to go with it—that was what she would have. It seemed quite a few people had the same idea, for the shop was filled with waiting patrons, but some fifteen minutes later Jenny was back at the flat with two small piping hot packages held securely in one hand. The telephone rang just as she was tearing open the paper bag containing the hamburger, and she flew across the room to answer it—her heart thudding wildly that it might be Zachary. Her assumption was correct and her heart took wings at the sound of his voice, and her greeting was gay and ecstatic. 'That's some welcome, Jenny-wren,' Zachary mused with a warm chuckle. 'What sort of weekend did you have?'

Caution subdued Jenny's voice a little as She pondered en just how much she should reveal. 'Jane came up on Friday to do some shopping,' she began a little hesitantly. 'And Grant Ogilvie let me have the afternoon off as I'd worked late the night before. We bought lots of things,' she went on inconsequentially, before rushing on quickly. 'Jane and I went down to Tauranga on Saturday morning—the husband of one of Mother's friends died suddenly and the funeral was Saturday afternoon. She—she thought both of us should be there, in the circumstances.' Oh, bother her foolish tongue—now he was bound to ask! 'What circumstances, Jenny?' There seemed nothing else for it but to answer as best she could. 'It—it was Max's father.' There, it was out and now he knew. 'What is the rest of it, Jenny?' he queried gently, then went on to comment wryly, 'Your voice sounds hesitant and rather lamb-like.' 'It was something of a mix-up,' she sighed philosophically, pausing to extract a chip and nibbled part of it. 'Let me guess,' Zachary began sombrely. 'Max flew home for the funeral and discovered his ex-fiancée is soon to marry someone else,' he concluded dryly. 'Yes,' Jenny acknowledged quickly. 'Any unfortunate repercussions I should know about?' he queried thoughtfully. Jenny smiled and suppressed an urge to laugh. Zachary Benedict—jealous? It seemed too incredible! 'You can safely assume that the lamb became sufficiently enraged as to emit several long and loud lion-like roars!' 'Indeed, Jenny-wren?' He sounded amused. 'I should have been there—you're incredibly beautiful when roused,' he chuckled deeply. 'When will you be back?' she queried tentatively, and her voice was expressively pathetic. 'Possibly earlier than I expected,' he told her gently, and she could have cried at the sensual timbre of his voice. 'Zachary,' Jenny burst out quickly as she suddenly remembered, 'the roses were really beautiful. Thank you,' she said quietly, and her voice felt funny and creaky with emotion. 'My pleasure, Jenny-wren. I shall see to it that you thank me properly when I return,' he drawled significantly, and Jenny managed a slightly strangled reply that drew an answering deep-throated chuckle from Zachary. 'My hamburger is getting cold, Zachary Benedict,' she said with mock severity. 'It's one of those impossibly mammoth ones with egg and mushrooms and bacon as well as the usual meat and lettuce

and tomato,' she enlightened him with a flourish, and couldn't suppress a laugh at the sound of the wince in his voice. 'Spare me, Jenny. At this distance, what hope have I of competing with something which obviously has your undivided attention?' he drawled sardonically. 'Goodnight, my Jenny-wren.' The remainder of the evening was spent catching up on a few chores, and shortly after nine Jenny stepped beneath the warm needle-spray of the shower happily content and pleasantly tired. A nice cup of coffee and possibly an hour of television viewing, then she would slip into bed. Zachary was due back on Wednesday, but at what time and on which flight she had no idea. If he flew in through the day she would be at work and wouldn't see him until the evening, in any case. His 'possibly earlier than expected' might even mean tomorrow, and Jenny's stomach began a series of somersaults at the thought of seeing him again. The choice of television programmes was minimal— not that it really mattered, for Jenny was only partly concentrating. She felt warm and relaxed and very dreamy sitting curled up in the deep armchair as she sipped her coffee. A few minutes after ten she stood to her feet and stretched her arms. The news on television didn't look as if it could hold her attention for long, and her comfortable bed beckoned enticingly. She had taken a few steps across the lounge to switch off the television set when there was a sudden loud knocking at her door. Momentarily transfixed, she cast a startled glance in the direction of the front door as the knocking was repeated, much louder this time. Caution moved her slowly towards the door. It couldn't be Zachary, for he would have identified himself straight away, and unless he'd rung from the airport in Wellington just prior to stepping on to an Auckland-bound plane, there wasn't a remote chance he could be here now. 'Who is it?' Jenny called out, fearful that it might be someone with ill-intent on the other side of the door. 'It's Max, Jenny. Let me in,' he called in loud, slightly slurred tones, and banged on the door again for good measure. Max! What on earth was he doing in Auckland? What was more, how could he possibly have discovered the address of her flat ? 'It's late, Max,' Jenny pleaded angrily. 'I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm not letting you in,' she added adamantly. 'You've got to let me in,' he began to bellow. 'I've come all this way just to apologise to you. I got here at half-past five and waited for an hour, then I caught a taxi to the first suburb that had a hotel. I've been there ever since trying to get the courage to come back.' He banged on the door again for what seemed for ever to Jenny. 'I've paid off the taxi, so you'll have to let me in!'

Oh, bother Max, Jenny cursed furiously. There was no doubt he was more than a little inebriated—drunk, she corrected wryly. At the amount of noise he was making the entire street would soon be out on their doorsteps to investigate! 'If I ring for a taxi, will you promise to stop making such a commotion?' Jenny begged anxiously. 'You can at least let me come inside and wait,' he demanded truculently. 'Only if you promise not to make any more noise,' she voiced hesitantly, not sure she should let him in at all. 'All right, all right,' Max muttered in a low undertone. Jenny opened the door and he stumbled inside looking very much the worse for wear and smelling strongly of beer. 'I came to say I'm sorry,' he muttered, his eyes bright as they stared rather fixedly at her. 'Sorry for the way I behaved last night.' He blinked several times and then swayed his way across to the lounge-settee and sank down into it in one careless movement. Jenny eyed him crossly and decided it would be a waste of time to chastise or attempt to reason with him. The sooner she telephoned for a taxi, the better. The taxi-cab company confirmed that they would have a cab at her address in approximately ten minutes, and Jenny related this information to Max, dubiously watching as he lay his head back and closed his eyes. 'I'll make some coffee—strong black coffee,' Jenny said hurriedly. Heavens, if he went to sleep she'd never be able to shift him! Keep him talking—she'd have to keep him talking so that he didn't go to sleep! 'Where are you staying, Max?' she queried, willing the kettle to boil as she set out a cup and saucer and took the bowl of sugar down from the cupboard. 'I hope you've booked into a motel, otherwise you could find it difficult to get any sort of accommodation at this hour.' There was no answer, and Jenny turned swiftly and saw to her utter consternation that Max had stretched out comfortably full length on the lounge-settee—what's more, his eyes were closed. 'Max!' she called desperately. 'Max, for heaven's sake, wake up. You can't go to sleep here!' She flew over to him and began to shake him none too gently. 'Max!' His only reply was his spasmodic snoring which seemed to increase in volume with every second, to be accompanied by his deep rhythmic breathing. 'Max!' she shouted close to his ear and shook him again for good measure, but there was no doubt that he was utterly and completely out to it. 'Damn!' Jenny cursed explicitly, a worried frown creasing her forehead as she surveyed his sleeping form vexedly. The kettle began to boil and she moved into the kitchen to turn off the element.

The coffee made, Jenny took it into the lounge and set it down on a nearby coffee table, then turned and made a further attempt to rouse Max. She shook him as hard as she could and called to him as loud as she dared, but it was all to no avail. There was only one thing left to do, and Jenny crossed hack to the kitchen to fill a bowl with cold water—if that didn't do the trick, then nothing would! At that precise moment there was the sound of a car drawing into her driveway, and a second later a discreet blare of a car-horn heralded the arrival of the taxi-cab, Jenny all but dropped the bowl of water as she flew to the door and winged down the steps to the waiting cab-driver. 'He won't wake up,' she wailed despairingly through the cab-window to the rather startled driver. Vexedly she pushed back a falling lock of hair, aware that she was clad only in a nightgown and brunch-coat. 'Look, I'm sorry,' she began to explain hurriedly. 'My ex-fiancé came banging at my door ten minutes ago. He made so much noise that I had to let him in, and I thought if I made him coffee and rang for a taxi—' Jenny paused anxiously. 'He must have had a lot to drink—and now he's passed out. I can't wake him for the life of me!' she finished desperately, willing the driver to help her. 'Please—do you think you could help me wake him ?' she begged, but the driver shook his head doubtfully. 'Do you know where he's staying?' 'No, I didn't get a chance to ask him before he—' Jenny began. 'I'm sorry, lady,' the driver said emphatically. 'It's the police you need. They'll shift him for you,' he assured her kindly. 'Otherwise, leave him where he is to sleep it off,' he suggested with a slight shrug. Jenny looked at him helplessly. 'Can't you ?' 'Look, lady,' he began firmly, 'I'm only a cab-driver. It's not part of my job to shift sleeping drunks, and even if I did, where would I take him? If you want the police, I'll put the call through on my radio—I'll...even wait until they arrive,' he offered wearily. Jenny sighed deeply, feeling loath to involve Max with the police. It wasn't as if he was a stranger—she'd known him for years. 'I guess I'll let him sleep it off,' she said hesitantly, and the cab-driver nodded at her decision. 'Okay, lady. No charge,' he said briskly, and without further ado put the cab in gear and quickly reversed down the driveway. Jenny went back inside the flat and shut the door behind her, then turned to view the heavily sleeping Max with frustrated anger. He really was the limit! A glance at her watch revealed that it was almost eleven o'clock, and vexedly she poured the coffee down the sink and set about getting a spare blanket to cover Max's sleeping form. In her bedroom she decided to drag the spare divan across to form a barricade against the closed door—not that she thought Max would try anything, but it was a

precaution that would allow her to sleep easier in her bed, she assured herself. In any case, he looked fit to sleep the sleep of the dead right through until morning. Even so, it seemed an age before Jenny finally drifted into an uneasy sleep from which the continued loud ringing of the alarm roused her next morning. Seven-thirty! Time to get up, and—Jenny caught sight of the divan across the door and sat bolt upright in bed. Max! She listened carefully for any sounds coming from the direction of the lounge, but it seemed quiet. Perhaps he was still asleep, she thought hopefully as she slid out of bed and slipped her arms into the sleeves of her brunch-coat. He was exactly as she'd left him last night, Jenny perceived wryly as she stood in the doorway of her bedroom viewing the recumbent Max. Well, she'd have a shower first and get ready for work—then she'd waken him, and after plying him with black coffee, send him on his way. The shower eased some of the tension, and freshly clean and liberally dabbed with a deliciously musky talc Jenny felt ready to face the world. She'd taken her clothes and make-up into the bathroom with her, and now she took care as she dressed. Her heart quickened considerably at the thought that Zachary could arrive back in Auckland some time today. Probably late afternoon or early evening—if she could manage a few spare minutes this morning she would ring the airport and enquire times of expected flights from Wellington. Make-up completed except for lipstick which she would apply after she'd had some toast and coffee, Jenny emerged from the bathroom to find a hopelessly bewildered Max wandering dazedly about in the kitchen. 'Hi,' he muttered sheepishly, his voice thick and faintly slurred. 'Sorry about all this,' he lifted a lethargic arm and waved it slowly in the direction of the lounge. 'I should think you jolly well should be,' Jenny said expressively, and her eyes flashed indignantly as she set about boiling the kettle and getting some sliced bread from the cupboard with which to make toast. 'I must have gone out like a light last night,' he frowned perplexedly as he tried to remember what had happened. 'You did,' Jenny assured him succinctly. 'Thanks for letting me stay,' he voiced in appreciation, and lifted his hands in a calming gesture as Jenny vented some of her exasperation. 'I had no choice, other than to call the police. The taxi driver wouldn't have anything to do with you—evicting sleeping drunks just wasn't part of his job,' she said angrily. 'Really, Max! How did you get hold of my address, in any case?' Max groaned and placed a hand to his head. 'Jenny, have a heart,' he pleaded painfully. 'My head feels as if it's going to explode!

Jenny placed a steaming mug of strong black coffee on the table and motioned him to sit down before turning back to butter the toast. 'Look,' he began wearily,, 'I behaved like a low-down heel over the weekend. You were right—there is a whole world out there, and I like Australia. I'm going back there in another we or so when Mum perks up a bit.' He paused to sip some of the coffee and sat back with a heartrending sigh. 'It was a hell of a shock to find you were already engaged to someone else—that on top of Dad's sudden death really shook me, and I suppose you could say I suffered from reaction and hurt pride.' He offered the semblance of a rueful grin across the table and picked up a piece of toast. 'I do love you, Jenny. I want you to know that. I guess it was a case of the right girl but the wrong time, because suddenly everything crowded in on me those last few weeks before we were due to be married and there seemed so many things I wanted to do before I settled down. I wanted to apologise to you—to explain,' he concluded simply. Jenny glanced at her watch and saw she had only a few more minutes before she had to leave. 'Apology accepted, Max,' she said sincerely. 'If you hurry up, I can drop you off on my way into the city,' she suggested, casting a critical eye over his clothes. 'You don't look too bad, although you do need a shave.' 'My things are at a motel a few- miles along the Pakuranga highway. By the way,' he began hesitantly, looking decidedly wary, 'this chap you're going to marry —what does he look like?' Jenny cast him a startled glance, her eyes frankly curious. 'Tall, dark-haired, fairly rugged-looking,' she spoke slowly. 'Why?' 'I don't suppose he drives a Mercedes-Benz, does he— a kind of subdued mustard shade?' Max queried cautiously. 'Yes.' Jenny felt her stomach somersault alarmingly, and the tension began to mount as she tried to control her rapid breathing. 'Max,' she bit out suspiciously, 'what are you trying to say?' 'Some man knocked on the door while you were in the bathroom. The knocking woke me up,' he hurried on to explain, 'and when you didn't appear I stumbled over and answered the door.' Jenny swallowed convulsively and her hazel eyes widened in consternation. 'It must have been Zachary— did he say anything? Oh, Max, what on earth would he think—finding you here?' she whispered desperately, and her face whitened with shock. Max shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. 'What could he possibly think, Jenny ?' He had the grace to look repentant. 'He gave me a critical glance, looked past me into the lounge, and then left. He said—"I'll contact Jenny later in the day"—that was all, I swear it,' he endeavoured to assure her. 'He couldn't have been here for more than two or three minutes.'

Jenny looked at him blankly, and began to feel physically ill. Any rational thoughts were lost as she gazed across at Max. All she wanted to do was to get to the office as soon as possible so that she could ring Zachary and explain. 'I'll have to leave in three minutes, Max,' she said anxiously, unable to excuse him for placing her in such an invidious position. 'I'll drop you off at your motel.' Max made a conciliatory gesture, then shrugged and crossed to the bathroom, jenny stood at the front door patiently waiting, and as soon as he appeared she urged him to hurry. 'I'm sorry, Jenny. I hope you'll be happy—I mean that,' Max squeezed her hand gently as she pulled in beside the motel, then slid out from the car. 'Thank you, Max,' Jenny murmured distractedly as he waved an arm in farewell and she put the car into gear and drove into the stream of city-bound traffic. She was scarcely aware of the heavy flow of traffic as she accomplished the remainder of the drive. Almost unaware of doing so, her eyes searched for Zachary's Mercedes-Benz as she drove into the parking building and her vision clouded somewhat when she failed to discern it anywhere. There was no sigh of him in the downstairs entrance-lobby of their office building, and she rode the, elevator in a quandary, anxiously, torn between the decision to go directly to Zachary's suite on the uppermost floor, or telephone from her office. At the last moment she panicked and emerged from the elevator at the sixth floor, determined to ring him at the very first opportunity. At nine-thirty Jenny very determinedly looked up the number of Benedict, Benedict and Partners and dialled it with shaking fingers. A light feminine voice wished her a cheerful 'good morning'. 'Could I speak to Mr. Benedict, please?' Jenny asked quietly, desperately willing Zachary to be in his office. 'I'm sorry,' the voice trilled engagingly, 'Mr. Benedict left five minutes ago and expects to be in court most of the day. Would you care to leave a message?' Jenny's heart sank despairingly, and the faint hope she held that the man who had called at her flat earlier might not be Zachary disappeared. After all, she thought rather hysterically, who else could it be but Zachary ? 'No, thank you. I'll ring back later this afternoon,' Jenny replied, and slowly replaced the receiver. Later that morning Grant Ogilvie cast her a piercing glance as she dazedly requested him to repeat the sentence he had just dictated. Jenny pulled herself up with a jolt—that was the second time

in the space of ten minutes that she had had to ask him to repeat his words. She really must concentrate! Somehow Jenny managed to get through the morning, although each time the telephone rang at the switchboard she couldn't control the erratic thud of her heart-beats in the hope that Zachary had had the opportunity to get a message to her. In the hope that he might ring through the lunch-hour break she elected to stay in the office—even barristers at court had to break for lunch. By mid-afternoon her powers of concentration had deserted her completely, and she made so many errors that most of her work had to be retyped. Lise cast her a spiteful glance from time to time, and Judy seemed on the point of querying at least twice what was causing Jenny to assume such a worried expression. Jenny resignedly slid the cover over her typewriter at a few minutes past five. She felt sick with apprehension, and how she managed to negotiate the inner city traffic was a miracle. She thought rather wildly that her favourite saint must indeed be watching over her, for twice she had moved the car into the wrong traffic lane and had narrowly missed the car in front of her by nothing short of a hair's breadth! It was only by sheer will-power that she drove straight to her flat and did not give in to the inordinate longing to detour slightly and pass Zachary's home, and as she turned the ear down her street and drove towards the flat she found herself peering forward in an attempt to ascertain whether Zachary's Mercedes-Benz might be resting in the driveway—but she was doomed to be disappointed. The mere thought of food in any form was unthinkable, and Jenny simply dropped her shoulder-bag on to the floor in the lounge and sank dejectedly into an armchair. The thoughts that had idly chased around inside her head all day took precedence over everything else and became magnified way out of reasonable proportion. The tears welled up in her eyes and slowly spilled over as she considered the possibility that Zachary had come to all the wrong conclusions on finding that Max had spent the night at her flat. That Zachary might want to end their engagement was more than she could bear, and Jenny began to weep brokenly with desolation as she tried to imagine a life without him. Deep raking sobs shook her slender shoulders as she gave in to her misery and sobbed uncontrollably. It seemed an age before the tears began to abate, and after a long few minutes spent mopping up her tear-streaked face she sat upright and gazed sightlessly about the room in an attempt to fill her mind with more mundane things. It was to no avail, for within seconds her eyes filled as Zachary's image came to mind again to torment her and fresh tears ran slowly down her cheeks to rest at each corner of her mouth. The sudden triple knock at the front door startled her to such an extent that she felt her body jerk spasmodically, and she sat mesmerised and unable to move. Seconds later the knock was repeated, only louder this time, and Jenny stood slowly to her feet and moved cautiously towards the door. 'Open the door, Jenny,' Zachary's voice sounded in command, and Jenny clutched her arms in an attempt to control the sudden wild surge of emotion that his voice evoked.

With trembling fingers she unlatched the door and let it swing open, unable to do anything other than simply stand there gazing at him. Zachary's eyes narrowed and his brow creased formidably as he took in the pale tear-stained face and the dark pain-filled eyes that seemed large as they stared at him so expressively. Without a word he came inside and closed the door behind him, then he bent his head a little and lifted her chin between thumb and forefinger and examined her face intently for what seemed minutes but could only have been seconds. 'Tell me, Jenny,' he ordered softly, but there was a dangerous quality evident in the quietness of his tone. Jenny blinked up at him and was unsure of her ability to utter anything coherent. 'I—I thought you weren't coming back—after this—this morning,' she stammered, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. 'Max arrived at the fiat—late last night. He'd been drinking and he wouldn't stop knocking on the door,' she licked her bottom lip nervously and saw his eyes flare alive with something she couldn't define. 'I let—let him in and rang for a taxi, but he fell asleep on the settee. I couldn't wake him at all, and—and the taxi-driver wouldn't take him. He said I should get the police, or else let Max sleep it off,' she finished pathetically, and she couldn't drag her eyes away from his even, if her life depended upon it. 'When Max told me that you had stopped by the flat this morning, I—' She hesitated as her voice became so wobbly with choked emotion that she was unable to continue. Zachary moved each of his thumbs across her cheeks to erase the tears and his lips curved into a strangely gentle smile. 'My darling Jenny-wren,' he chided tenderly. 'It took only a brief glance to see that the recalcitrant Max had spent the night on the settee, and that he was suffering from a massive hangover.' He paused to shake her gently and bent to place a fleeting kiss on each damp eyelid before continuing. 'I've been in court all day—the only break being a short retirement for lunch, and the remainder of the recess was spent in consultation. At the close of the day's session I checked with my office and then came straight on to you,' he concluded by way of explanation, then catching her rather watery smile he stifled a brief imprecation and closed his mouth down on to her trembling lips in a kiss that was shattering in its intensity. Jenny drew a shaky breath timeless minutes later when he at last lifted his head, and the smile she gave him reflected her inner radiance. Her eyes searched every line of his beloved face, examining the mobile sensual mouth, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she glimpsed the deep throbbing passion evident in the depths of those dark liquid eyes.

'Ready, my Jenny-wren?' Jenny turned from her light amusing conversation with Aunt Madge and cast Zachary a glance that held such a wealth of love that those in: the room who caught a glimpse of it felt an unaccustomed clutch at their heartstrings.

'Yes,' Jenny said simply, and her fingers curved round his as he caught her hand and drew her close in to his side. It was time to leave for their short honeymoon to an undisclosed destination north of Whangarei. Jenny smiled a little as she skimmed over the events of the past few days. They held a dreamy, almost unrealistic quality—the only vividly real entity being Zachary himself. Today had been truly memorable in that it had been her wedding day—although how she had managed to get through it was something Jenny viewed with a mixture of slight hysteria and wonderment! It had begun with her meeting Mrs. Meredith and Jane at the airport shortly after nine this morning, and had quickly been followed by Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan's arrival at the flat. A leisurely family lunch together and then things began happening in quick succession as time registered as the all-important factor; There had been Uncle Dan's non-avuncular brand of raillery to contend with—four females under one roof all striving to change into wedding finery and attending to a seemingly endless number of feminine beautifying ministrations was more than poor Uncle Dan could bear! Then there was a last-minute dash by Jane and Aunt Madge to the local florist, when Jenny's bridal bouquet had failed to arrive in time, and it seemed a minor miracle that they managed to get to the register office at all! After the solemn marriage ceremony there had been confetti scattered laughingly as Jenny stood with Zachary outside on the pavement for a few informal photographs. They had then driven to Nina Benedict's elegant home in St. Heliers Bay, where despite Zachary's firm injunction that Nina arrange only for the preparation of hors-d'oeuvres and champagne, there had been an elegant buffet spread but in appetising splendour. Nina had managed to cajole them into staying with her for a little over an hour and a half before waving them off with a suspicion of tears glimmering in the depths of those bright vividly blue eyes. At Zachary's home they had both exchanged their wedding finery for casual clothes before rejoining Mrs. Meredith, Jane, Aunt Madge and Uncle Dan for coffee in the lounge. 'You'll write just as soon as you get back?' Mrs. Meredith asked quickly as Jenny moved to hug her mother goodbye. 'I'll do better than that,' Jenny smiled kindly, her eyes warm with affection. 'I'll telephone on Wednesday evening and you shall tell me all about Jane's departure on Tuesday.' 'Take care, and God bless,' Aunt Madge wished Jenny gently, and Uncle Dan bestowed Jenny with a fleeting kiss and gave Zachary a hearty handshake. Now there was only Jane, and the two sisters clung together, both aware that it could be a long time before they would see each other again. It was a strange feeling—sadness tinged with happiness, and Jenny felt tears of emotion prick beneath her eyelids as the Mercedes-Benz swept down the drive and headed towards the city en route for the harbour bridge and the main motorway north.

Swiftly the powerful car covered the miles, and Jenny, leaned well back against the luxuriously sprung seat feeling relaxed and wonderfully at peace with the world. She must have dozed for a while as the day's excitement and the effects of the champagne took their toll, and she roused slowly, aware that the motion of the car had ceased. 'Pleasant dreams?' Zachary's voice drawled teasingly as he leant across to catch back a stray wisp of hair that had escaped from the elegant hairstyle Jane had effected for her several hours before. 'Hmmm,' Jenny murmured sleepily, blinking at him in the soft glow of the interior car light. 'We've arrived, Jenny-wren,' he indicated the wide sweeping bay, its surface shimmering softly beneath the silvery moonlight. 'My retreat from civilisation, looking out over Doubtless Bay to the great expanse of the Pacific Ocean.' Jenny smiled musingly as she glanced around the secluded countryside before bringing her gaze back to the ocean. 'I can see what you meant when you said "somewhere quiet and far away".' ' "A jug of wine, a loaf of bread—and thou",' Zachary quoted gently as he bent forwards to place a brief kiss on her sweetly parted lips. Jenny grinned impishly into his dark gleaming eyes, loving the hint of possessiveness in his voice. 'I hope you have a fishing line somewhere in there,' she pointed to the darkened outline of the house several feet away to the right of the car. 'Fresh schnapper would go very nicely with that jug of wine and loaf of bread—I'll even let you cook it,' she twinkled with barely suppressed mirth and slid quickly from the car as he determinedly reached for her. 'Will you indeed?' he mocked in amusement as he slipped out from behind the wheel and moved towards the rear of the car where he took both their suitcases from the boot and carried them to the door of the house. It was a house, Jenny perceived a few seconds later as she followed Zachary inside. Unpretentious and comfortably furnished, it was much more than a utilitarian beach-bach, and it was obvious from the spotless condition inside and the well-stocked refrigerator and cupboards that he had notified some obliging soul in advance that the house was to be occupied for a few days. 'Well, Jenny-wren?' Zachary's deep voice drawled gently from a few feet behind her, and Jenny turned round to face him, her expression serious and achingly sincere as she raised her eyes to meet his. 'I love you,' she said tremulously, assailed with a treacherous longing that swept aside any vestige of pride in the need to be held closely within the haven of his arms. Zachary's dark eyes flared sensually alive as his lips curved into a gently tender smile. Silently he opened his arms wide, and Jenny flew to him on winged feet, feeling those strong arms close possessively about her slender frame with an ardency that dispelled any doubts of his need for her.

'No regrets, my Jenny?' he queried softly as his lips trailed from her mouth across to the lobe of her ear, which he nibbled teasingly. 'None,' she assured him with emphasis, turning her head to meet his lips teasing with sensual expertise, and she felt her heart soar at the sound of his soft exultant laugh as he swung her high into his arms and strode purposefully towards the large front bedroom overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gently he lowered her to stand in front of him and his fingers began releasing the buttons fastening her jacket. 'I couldn't bear a life without you in it, Jenny-wren. May fate be generous to us both and keep you by my side— now and always,' he voiced with deep sincerity, and Jenny reached up to wind her arms around his neck, raising her lips to meet his as she whispered in silent prayer. 'Now, and always—my darling Zachary.'