Spellbound

Category Duets: 008 SPELLBOUND & IN BED WITH THE ENEMY Janet Woods

© copyright February 2000 by Janet Woods cover art by Eliza Black New Concepts Publishing 4729 Humphreys Road Lake Park, GA 31636

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SPELLBOUND

CHAPTER ONE You blithering idiot! Ellie accused herself, staring with disbelief at the man standing in the porch. If you had to experiment with aunt Vera's book of spells, why didn't you make sure the letter with the love potion fell into the right hands? If she'd sent the letter to Andrew Morgan's home address instead of the business, his disagreeable elder brother, Patrick, wouldn't be glowering at her now. What Ellie wanted she usually got. This dark-haired, sardonic looking creature, whose temper was as legendary in the district as the exploits of Australia's infamous Ned Kelly had once been - wasn't it! Dubiety on her face, Ellie peered into the dimly lit porch. Either she was suffering from double vision or the man had two heads. He didn't look the type to thank her for drawing attention to the anomaly. 'I expected you earlier.' 'It took me two hours to drive up here, lady,' one of the heads informed her. 'My truck and caravan are stuck in the mud at the creek. It's pouring with rain and I'm bloody uncomfortable. You've seen my identification. Are you going to let me in or not?'

The second head sneezed. With relief, Ellie saw it was a child sheltered under Patrick Morgan's coat. As much as she would love to let Patrick drown in the rain, she couldn't let a child do the same. After all, she was responsible for their condition. The same book of spells that had brought them to her door had produced the drought-breaking downpour. Standing aside she allowed them into the hallway of the house. 'I thought Andrew was handling the renovations?' 'Did you?' Ellie was sprayed with water as he shook the rain from his hair. A pair of deep blue eyes appraised her make-up, becoming derisive as they slowly traversed her body. His glance said it all. Ellie blushed slightly when he grinned. 'Have you made plans to go out?' 'Why do you ask?' Someone had told her first impressions counted. If the expression on Patrick Morgan's face was anything to go by, he'd thought he'd come up with her number. 'You're dressed to kill,' he observed. A porcupine would have been proud of the spikes she suddenly sprouted. 'And you're well on your way to becoming my first victim. I find your tone objectionable. If you're here to start on the renovations - ' 'I'll have to retrieve my van and equipment from the creek first. I'll borrow Vera's land rover to tow it out.' His tone became mildly sarcastic when her eyebrows rose. 'If that's all right with you, Miss Bryce.' 'I suppose.' Her glance strayed to the dark head of the child as she indicated the keys on the hall table. A second pair of dark blue eyes gazed back at her. No contempt in these eyes, just curiosity. The smile mirroring hers was totally captivating. 'This is my son, Todd.' The child disappeared under his raincoat and reappeared at his feet. 'You won't object if I leave him whilst I rescue my van?' Object? She'd very much like to object! Not at the child being left with her, but at the assumption. In fact, she would have objected if he hadn't revolved on his heels and disappeared through the door without giving her the chance to object. 'You miserable high-handed, arrogant, son of a ... ?' Remembering the boy, she clamped her lips tightly together and glanced down at him. She smiled when he giggled. 'I'd like to turn your father into a frog and leave him in the creek.' Todd's expression became rapt. His eyes grew as round as saucers and slow, cheeky grin joined his mouth to his dimples. 'Patch would be as mad as a cut snake if you did.' She frowned. What sort of father encouraged his son to use that sort of language? Come to that, what

sort of man allowed his son to call him by a nick- name? Good grief! Todd couldn't be more than four years old, she thought indignantly. What's more, he was soaking wet! What sort of father ... ? Shut up, Ellie! she said to herself. You sound like a parrot. It was your fault it rained, your fault Morgan and Son turned up on the doorstep looking like drowned rats. This boy needs attention. You're suitably qualified with children, so give him some. Her hand encountered a sticky mess when she took his hand in hers. She grimaced as they were instantly glued together. 'Don't tell me ... it's bubble gum, right?' He nodded. 'I was saving it for later.' 'I see.' She sighed as she led him into the kitchen. Her job in a child-minding center had made her an expert on bubble gum. 'We might be able to rescue it if we use ice.' 'You're nice.' His face brightened. 'Not like Patch said.' 'What exactly did Patch say about me?' Ellie asked. She ignored the scintilla of guilt she felt at grilling the child, and rubbed ice on the gooey mess binding them together. In her book, it came under the heading. "Know thine enemy." Todd's forehead wrinkled in concentration, then he burst out in triumph. 'He said your stuck up and hairless.' 'Really?' She grinned as she tossed the mane of honey-colored hair back from her face. 'I'll admit to being stuck up at the moment, but Patch must need glasses if he thinks I'm hairless.' 'You look like a lion.' Todd's eyes were blissful as he gazed at her. 'I love lions.' 'You've got more than a touch of the blarney, young man.' Peeling the hardened gum from their hands she deposited it on a saucer, bared her teeth and growled. She sounded more like a trodden-on cat than a lion, but he dissolved into giggles anyway. 'Here you are. There's a change of clothes in the bag for Todd' She jumped as a bag landed at her feet. The man had returned faster than expected. 'I want to talk to you, Patch Morgan,' she said. Confused when he grinned, she gritted her teeth and corrected herself. 'Mister Morgan? I meant.' Their eyes clashed. Her own were a furious green, yet as soon as they touched against the dark ice in his, her brain seemed to scramble. 'Yes, Eloise?' he breathed, his voice dangerously seductive. The use of her name totally threw her. No-one but her father had ever called her Eloise, and he'd been dead for the past twelve months. 'What ... what's stuck up and hairless supposed to mean?' He gave a deep, spine-tingling chuckle. 'Substitute heiress. I think you'll get the drift.' Anger flamed in her as she tore her eyes away from his face. Heiress she might be, but most of her

father's wealth had evaporated when the debtors had moved in. The only money they hadn't been able to touch was her trust. It had been set up by her mother. The house had been sold, the antiques auctioned off. Her mother's jewelry had gone under the hammer too, except ... ? Ellie caressed the half-carat diamond ring her father had given her for her twenty-first birthday. It was surrounded with tiny emeralds. 'Your mother's engagement ring,' he'd said. 'She made me promise to give it to you on this day.' His expression had been sad. 'She'd have been proud of you had she lived, Eloise. As proud as I am.' She blinked the mist from her eyes. 'I'm not as well off as you seem to think.' She wondered why she was bothering to redeem herself to this obnoxious man. 'I happen to work for a living.' 'Some living.' His voice was almost a sneer as his glance lit on the ring. 'What is it you do? Mine diamonds?' 'I work in a child minding center.' Make something of that, she thought. His harsh laugh told her exactly what he'd made of it. 'I suppose you cater for the children of the rich and famous.' 'Wrong.' She gave him her sweetest smile. 'It's a center for disadvantaged kids. Most are from single parent homes. Their parents need low cost child care so they can work to support themselves.' 'I should have known,' he flung at her. 'A poor little rich girl patronizing the peasants. Have you ever considered that not all one parent families are disadvantaged?' Ellie couldn't remember afterwards how she kept her temper at that moment. Perhaps it was because Todd was there, seemingly oblivious, or perhaps used to his father's bad manners. Perhaps it was because she'd encountered his attitude before. Because of her background, people labeled her a rich bitch, and didn't bother to look past it. It wasn't her fault her father had been wealthy before outside influences had ruined him. Ellie had never taken a cent from him once she'd started work, preferring to make her own way in life. She'd wanted to be a teacher, but the hours of study required had not suited her temperament. Instead, she'd opted for a child-management course and a hands-on approach. She thoroughly enjoyed her job, and hated people who didn't have the intelligence to see below the surface. Swallowing her ire, she turned and gave him a thoughtful glance. There had to be more to this man than he was showing her. 'May I inquire if this display of rudeness is a permanent feature of your personality?' He looked set to explode as he gazed at her. His eyes were hard and dark, his generous mouth clamped tight. A pulse beat furiously in his tautly etched jaw. If he didn't look so angry he'd be handsome, she thought in surprise. Not as handsome as his brother, Andrew. But Patrick had a brooding sort of look. It caught her unawares and sent a tiny flutter of alarm through her body. 'I apologize.' Had he said what she'd thought he'd said? 'Pardon?'

A frown gathered between his brows, his voice rose a notch or two. 'I hadn't realized you were deaf.' 'I'm not deaf.' She simmered gently for a few seconds before deciding not to rise to the bait. 'You didn't answer my question.' 'About my disposition?' Amusement flared briefly in his eyes. 'I'm usually direct with people. If I'm wrong, I admit it. It's going to be a problem if my approach raises your hackles, because you effect me in exactly the same way.' She bit back an angry retort when Todd pulled at her skirt. 'I'm hungry,' he announced. 'You're permanently hungry.' Patrick managed a wry grin. 'I hope you don't mind. I'll have to impose on your hospitality for a while. I got the truck out, but the caravan is under water. If you wouldn't mind looking after Todd a bit longer I'll walk back to the creek and bring the truck up to the house. The water is likely to come up further if this keeps up.' The rain was coming down in torrents. Appeased by his change of attitude, Ellie suddenly felt sorry for him. 'I'll drive you to the creek if you like. It will be quicker.' 'There's no need. I couldn't get any wetter if I tried.' He dropped a kiss on his son's head. 'Don't brush the lion lady's fur up the wrong way, Todd. She looks as though she's dying to get her claws into someone.' Instinctively, the claws in question hooked into red-tipped daggers. How right he was, she seethed, wishing she had the ability to change into a lion at will. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him stride away. It would give her great pleasure to sink her teeth into his tautly muscled backside. A million volt bite that would make him jump out of his arrogant skin. The man was a woman's worst nightmare! A tiny flutter of hope beat in her breast when the front door shut with a decisive click. That's what it was - a bad dream! In a moment she'd wake, find him replaced by the charming, golden-haired Andrew. Fat chance! The hand clutching her skirt was not Andrew's, and the question being put to her not a proposal of great significance to anyone but Todd. 'Can I have a hamburger for supper please, Miss?' *** 'Yeah Gods, that kid can eat!' Ellie aimed her statement at the huge tabby cat decorating the rug in front of the wood-burning stove. 'If he keeps it up he'll soon be as gigantic as you.' One yellow eye opened slightly. Encouraged, she tickled the cat with her foot. She was rewarded with a baleful glare and a warning meow. 'You're anti-social, Scruff. Just like him.' She gazed at the clock in disgust. Todd had been bedded down in the spare single bed an hour ago. Patrick should have been back by now. Where was he? Unease flooded her as a gust of wind shook the house. The rain was developing into a storm. What if ... ? The phone intruded into her thoughts and she snatched up the receiver. 'Ellie Bryce speaking.' A beeping

sound signaled a long distance call. 'Aunt Vera?' Ellie strained to hear her aunt's voice as the line crackled. 'There's something wrong ... creek ... go now ... Patch ... ' The hairs rose on the back of Ellie's neck as the line went dead. 'Aunt Vera?' she shouted, hoping some miracle would carry her voice to the satellite floating above and remind it of its function. It didn't. Grumbling to herself she banged the receiver back on its rest and gazed uneasily at Scruff. 'What do you think she meant?' Aunt Vera was a clairvoyant. At the moment she was in America, attending a convention of similarly blessed people. Ellie had always considered her aunt to be slightly dotty, had been skeptical of her powers. Yet ... ? There was no way she could have known about Patrick being at the house. Grabbing the keys to the Rover, Ellie stopped only to check that Todd was soundly asleep before heading outside. I'm probably making an absolute idiot of herself, she mused, imagining Patrick's sardonic smile as she charged in like a white knight on a charger to rescue him from whatever danger Aunt Vera imagined him to be in. On the other hand ....? She smiled to herself. He would be under an obligation to her if she got him out of trouble and might keep his temper under control. 'Damn!' she muttered when the lights picked up the shape of his truck. 'Now I'm for it.' The bonnet was up and Patrick leaned over the engine. He looked almost relaxed through the rain-lashed windscreen. Too relaxed! As she skidded to a halt she spotted the tree branch on the ground next to him. Alarm bells rang in her head. He'd been pole-axed by a widow-maker. Patrick regained full consciousness just as Ellie was trying to persuade his bottom half to follow his head and shoulders into the Rover. She wasn't all that surprised. An ear to his mouth and chest had told her he was very much alive. He was suffering from a bump on the head, a rapidly darkening eye and a few scratches. She guessed his dented ego would give him the most trouble. So much for Aunt Vera's urgency! 'What happened?' He winced as he came upright, glaring at her as if the accident was all her fault. 'You're covered in mud.' 'Very observant.' She suspected her favorite dress would never be the same again. 'That's what comes of heaving an uncooperative male over my shoulder and attempting to drag him into the car.' 'You went to all that trouble for me?' Sarcasm in his eyes, he lurched to his feet and towered over her. 'You must be desperate for a man, green-eyes.' 'And you must be desperate for a kick in the rear,' she shot back. 'Hasn't anyone told you how to say thanks?' 'Sure,' he drawled. Before she realized the significance of his smile she was drawn into his arms and smothered with a savage mouth that punished her for her threat, then softly whispered against her lips. 'Thank's, angel.'

Thunder grumbled in the distance as she mentally garroted him. His battered face, lit by flickers of lightning, seemed almost devilish. She shivered. How could anyone have married this man, let alone give him a lovely child like Todd? She took a deep breath, put some distance between them and reminded him of his status. 'I feel sorry for your wife.' 'I haven't got a wife.' 'But Todd ... ? Her voice suddenly faltered. Perhaps his wife had died. 'He's my son.' 'Where's his mother?' she blurted out. 'Gone to hell for all I care.' Patrick's hands gripped her shoulders, his eyes bored into hers as he said very deliberately. 'She was one of your sort.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' The ball of his thumb slid roughly across her mouth, smearing the lipstick. Ellie wanted to gasp at the indignity of it. 'I thought she was something special until the veneer peeled off.' The rumble of thunder seemed louder. A nagging little voice in her subconscious told her it was too consistent. Patrick must have thought so too. His eyes suddenly widened in awareness. Grabbing her by the waist he dragged into the Rover after him and gunned the motor into life. 'Let's get out of here!' It seemed impossible the wall of water would miss them as the wheels spun in the mud. Patrick poured out a string of curses and she was jolted back in her seat as the Rover leaped forward. Clinging to the seat she turned in time to see Patrick's truck skew sideways. Then water churned over it. For a few seconds the headlights shone palely through the water, then they were extinguished. A ghost gum followed after in a crackle of flailing branches. Water and gravel splattered angrily at the Rover as it shot up the bank, as if cheated of its prey, the flood was hurling insults after them. Patrick's face was made of stone as he pulled the Rover to a halt. The hands gripping the top of the wheel were white-knuckled, but his voice so conversational it seemed unreal under the circumstances. 'That was close.' She wanted to giggle. Who'd have thought a couple of simple spells could produce such startling results. She'd found the spell book sandwiched between two paperbacks. It had been a fun book, nothing serious. It had offered spells from the removal of warts to ensuring the sex of an unborn child. Knowing the district had been suffering from drought, Ellie had used the chant for making rain. She'd have looked pretty silly if Patrick had appeared whilst she was throwing salt in the air and chanting at the

top of her voice. The giggle became a reality. He turned to glower at her. At least the love potion hadn't worked, she mused. If Patrick had fallen instantly in love with her, he had a funny way of showing it. He looked as if he wanted to kill her. The skin around his eye was a puffy purple patch, his dark hair curled at the edges like burned toast where it was drying. There was mud streaking his tanned face. It lodged in the crevices, emphasizing them, making him appear older. His cold glittering eyes were contemptuous. They froze her embryonic laugh in her throat. 'I see nothing funny about the situation. I've just lost my truck and all my equipment.' 'Wasn't it insured?' 'Of course it was insured.' 'Then stop complaining.' A shiver came from nowhere and she wrapped her arms tightly around her body. 'Be thankful you still have your life.' 'There's that I suppose.' Staring through the thrashing blades of the wipers he said. 'What made you come to the creek?' 'Aunt Vera phoned and said you were in trouble.' She was shivering in earnest now. 'Hadn't we better get back. I'm worried about leaving Todd by himself.' 'Vera rang from America?' Patrick gave her an assessing glance before engaging the gear lever. 'That's what I said.' Ellie didn't care whether he believed her or not, didn't know whether she believed it herself as they sped towards the welcoming lights of the house. 'That figures,' he said thoughtfully. 'I was thinking of Vera just before the branch brained me.' 'What were you thinking?' 'Nothing that would interest you.' His voice was curt as they drew up in front of the house. Leaning over he thrust the door open. 'Off you go, Eloise. Make yourself useful while I put the Rover away. Black coffee with two sugars.' 'Perhaps you'd like me to run you a bath as well,' she snarled, stung by what amounted to little more than an order. 'Thanks.' His eyes locked into hers when she clambered down from the Rover. 'You look as though you need one yourself. Would you care to join me?' 'I'd rather bathe in acid.' Slamming the door on his laugh she jumped backwards as he suddenly gunned the motor. Too late. Mud arced upwards and splattered her face and hair. Her metamorphosis from beauty to beast in the hands of this man had been expertly completed. 'Mongrel!' she yelled.

Something suspiciously like a howl reached her ears as the car sped towards the garage. She swore quietly to herself as she stomped into the house. Much to Ellie's relief Todd was still sound asleep. Tucking his arm under the blanket she leaned forward and kissed his tousled head. 'Sleep well ... ' she whispered, '... because you just might find I've turned your father to stone when you wake up.'

CHAPTER TWO 'What the devil was that in the bath?' The roar of Patrick's voice brought Ellie spinning round from the table. The cutlery she'd been about to set on the table slid from her suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor. Her mouth fell open in awe. What has she done to him? Matching the half-masted track-suit pants, the shocking pink raised lump emblazoned on his arms and chest accused her of her own stupidity. 'Hives,' she whispered. 'You must have been allergic to it.' 'Allergic to what?' Two steps brought him across the kitchen, his eyes impaled her. 'What did you put in my bath water?' 'A herbal bubble bath,' she said desperately. It wasn't really a lie. The potion had been a mixture of herbs and washing up liquid. 'I made it myself.' 'Out of what, exactly?' Twisting his arm up behind him Patrick tried to scratch a spot between his shoulder blades. 'Nettle's?' 'Lavender, rosemary and fennel.' Purity of heart, fidelity and valor, the book had said. Perhaps she should have omitted the fennel. She swallowed as her glance consumed his muscles. He didn't look as if his strength needed boosting. Her eyes widened when another lump appeared on the muscle he'd been assessing. This wasn't the effect she'd aimed for when she'd put the love potion in his bath. He must be in an agony of itching. Guiltily she avoided his eyes. 'There's some calamine lotion in the cupboard, and I've got some antihistamine tablets in my bag.' 'Then get them.' Patrick leaned against the cool surface of the fridge and sighed with frustration. 'This has been a hell of a day. You must carry the same jinx as -' His eyes delivered a volley of lethal shots at her hovering form. 'What are you waiting for, Eloise. I'm going to catch fire if you don't get your act together.' 'Sorry.'

So much for the love potion, Ellie mused as she fetched the medications. It seemed to have had the opposite effect on Patrick Morgan. He was obviously incapable of loving a woman. But no ... he must have managed it once. Todd was proof of that. He practically snatched the calamine and wad of cotton wool from her hands, dabbed at the lumps on his chest and arms then handed it back to her. 'Put some on my back.' The hives seemed to have joined forces on his back. Gazing at the welts she indicated the table. 'It will be easier if you lie down. I'll use my hands. Patrick flinched as she poured a generous measure into the middle of his back, then signed when her fingers smoothed it over his flesh. He had a nice body, Ellie reflected as she smoothed the lotion in long sweeping strokes over his firm skin. He tapered down from the shoulders in one lean wedge. His muscle tone rippled under her finger tips, and the cool lotion against the heat of his body raised goose-bumps wherever she touched. The aroma of the witches brew he'd bathed in still clung to his skin. It rose in waves with the heat from his body. Lavender, rosemary ... and something else ... something so sensual that Ellie leaned closer and took a deep breath in order to isolate it. Musk. She closed her eyes and let her hands glide over his body. It was a primitive male scent that touched a chord in her and indicated ... arousal? Help! She willed her hands away from where they'd been journeying. The last thing she needed was for Patrick to think she was after him. Tearing her eyes away from his perfectly proportioned rear she muttered primly. 'I think that will do, Mister Morgan.' 'A pity,' he murmured softly. 'I was enjoying it.' There was nothing wrong with this man's libido, Ellie noticed when he rose from the table. Averting her eyes she busied herself at the sink. 'The tablets are on the dresser. They'll probably make you sleepy so I'll make up a bed on the couch after we've eaten.' 'Thanks.' Strolling to the stove he lifted the lid from a saucepan an inhaled a cloud of steam. 'This is just about ready.' Ellie's stomach gave an unladylike growl as she hurriedly threw the cloth back on the table and gathered together the spilled cutlery. 'It smells delicious, Mister Morgan. I could eat a horse.' 'So I hear.' He flicked her a grin. 'Cut out the Mister Morgan. My name's Patrick.' The casual tone of his voice changed to disgust. 'Why didn't you stir this hash? It's all stuck to the bottom.' 'I was drying my hair.' Joining him at the stove she peered into the saucepan with dismay. 'Is it ruined?' 'It looks beautiful, lion lady.' His growling voice sent shivers rioting down her spine. A compliment? Ellie waited for him to qualify it with an insult. He didn't disappoint her. 'It must cost a fortune to keep it looking that way.' 'On the contrary.' She moved out of the way when he bent to open the oven. 'I just get it trimmed every few weeks.' Her mouth watered as she spotted the crispy fried potatoes. 'Those look great.'

'I'm not just a pretty face.' He wasn't devoid of a sense of humor, however ironic. A grin tugged at his mouth when she laughed. 'Stop getting in my way, woman. Go and finish off the table.' This sort of bossy banter she could cope with. And when he set a loaded plate on the table in front of her she almost liked him. She'd never mastered cooking. This feast was a welcome change from the frozen dinners she usually bought for herself. 'Tell me about yourself.' Patrick gave her a swift glance as he took the seat opposite her and picked up his fork. 'Now?' Ellie eyed her steaming plate. 'I haven't had a meal like this for ages. All I want to do is eat.' 'I just thought you might like some polite conversation with your meal.' 'You can actually be polite?' Why had she said that? He'd offered her an olive branch. Now his face had closed up like a clam with a belly ache. 'Please yourself.' He turned on the radio and studiously ignored her for the rest of the meal. There was no relief in his silence. The atmosphere was charged with tension. Ellie didn't bother to try and relieve it as she tidied up the kitchen and hung his clothes on coat hangers to dry overnight. Why should she? He'd barged into the house like an avenging angel and treated her like dirt. Despite her quick temper, Ellie's personality was sunny. People were usually attracted to her, which was why Patrick's churlish attitude puzzled her. Had he been a child she'd have brought her charm to bear and won him round. But this was a man she was dealing with, an intelligent one. He presented a different kind of challenge. She wasn't about to give him an inch. She doubted he would give her an inch either. Relaxed in Aunt Vera's chair, his long legs extended towards the fire, Patrick was comfortably unaware of the ridiculous figure he presented in the pink pants and matching calamine lotion. He looked incredibly fit. His skin resembled fine burnished leather stretched over supple muscle and sinew. Graceful was not an adjective usually applied to men, but Ellie couldn't think of one that fitted his physical form better. Realizing her libido was showing signs of disturbance Ellie tore her eyes away from him. It was no good lusting after a man whose disposition was totally opposite to her own. She'd gone that route before. She wanted a man she could manage, like his brother. Andrew Morgan was sweet-tempered, kind, and he respected her. Ellie frowned slightly. Andrew just needed a little bit of encouragement, that was all. 'Are those for my bed?' Without realizing it, Ellie had taken sheets from the airing cupboard, and was idly smoothing them with her hand while she thought. Patrick yawned. 'Make it snappy. I'm tired.'

He was tired! Did he think she wasn't? She ached all over from dragging him to the Rover. Because of him her favorite dress was ruined, her nails ragged and chipped, her shoulders tight with tension. She hated the sight of his sprawling figure, his sardonic smile, his hives. Had she the strength, Ellie knew she would cheerfully feed him through the meat mincer piece by piece. 'I'm not your slave.' The sheets flew from her hands and landed on his chest. She derived a certain amount of satisfaction from the astonishment on his face. 'You're big and ugly enough to fix your own bed.' 'You've got a hell of a temper on you, Eloise.' He rose to his feet in one fluid motion and loomed threateningly over her. 'Someone needs to put you over their knee and paddle it out of you.' He looked as though he'd elected himself for the job if the sense of purpose in his eyes was any indication. Ellie headed for her bedroom at a fast trot, then jammed a chair under the door handle as a precaution. 'Just try and get in here and I'll brain you,' she muttered under her breath. She looked around for a weapon to do it with. Her glance fell on Todd. He was sat up in bed watching her through sleep-fuddled eyes. 'Are you my mum, Ellie?' Todd went back to sleep as soon as Ellie tucked him back under the covers. Tears came to her eyes. 'Don't I wish, angel,' she whispered in his ear. 'It's a pity you come as a package, otherwise I'd certainly apply for the job. *** Ellie rose early, woken by Todd's urgent need to visit the bathroom. An urge to consume at least a gallon of hot tea overrode the desire for an extra hour's sleep. The kitchen was warm, the kettle left on the banked up stove steaming. Patrick's clothes were gone so he'd been up before her. Ellie thrust the tousled hair from her eyes and made the tea. She gazed at Todd. Chin balanced on his elbows he gazed back at her. 'May I have pancakes for breakfast, please?' 'In a minute. If I don't have two cups of tea to start the day I turn into a grouch.' She smiled when Todd giggled. 'Want a cup?' 'I'm not allowed tea.' His head cocked to one side. 'Dad said milk makes you strong.' Ellie poured some milk into a glass and slid it across to him. 'Are you strong?' Todd's tongue came out and licked the residue from his lips. 'One day I'm going to be just like Patch.' Ellie gazed thoughtfully at the boy whilst she finished her tea. She hoped not. One Patrick Morgan was bad enough. She poured herself another cup and started making a pancake batter.

She was doing fine until Patrick walked into the kitchen. Having decided that one thick pancake would take less time than lots of thin ones, she'd tipped half the batter into the heated pan. She was now watching it, hoping the middle would cook before the edges burned. 'Good morning, Eloise.' Patrick sounded almost human, and she whipped around in surprise. That was her undoing. The sleeve of the lose robe she wore caught around the handle of the pan and sent its contents crashing to the floor. Splattered with hot fat and warm batter she leaped backwards, tripped over the cat, who'd appeared from nowhere then fell into Patrick's arms. Patrick grinned down at her, and Todd clapped his hands like she'd just performed some amazing circus act. 'Could you do that again, Patrick said, his voice loaded with irony. 'I nearly missed it.' 'Very funny.' If the amusement in his eyes wasn't bad enough, the position of the hands that had caught her was worse. She'd fallen backwards, and each of his hands firmly cupped one of her breasts. Patrick was looking down at her, his face upside-down. 'Let me go this minute,' she hissed. 'This minute?' Awareness came into his eyes when he looked at his hands. Ellie could have sworn his thumbs gently caressed her nipples. 'Are you sure?' he mocked, as they swelled into a response. 'Now!' Ellie expected him to haul her upright first. Instead, Patrick abruptly withdrew his arms. Her rear end hit the floor with a resounding thump. She would have screamed abuse at him if Todd hadn't been there. Instead, she scrambled to her feet, gave him an indignant glare, and stepped forward, straight into the middle of the pancake. As the batter oozed up between her toes she whispered a succinct oath. Patrick's laugh started off as a quiet chuckle, then became a torrent as Todd joined in. Ellie pulled her robe close around her and left them too it. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she limped on one foot and heel towards the bathroom. After washing the batter from her foot she stared at herself in the mirror. On impulse, she threw back her head and screamed out her frustration in one long yell. She felt better when she reached her bedroom. She shrugged into a pair of jeans and a fleecy white sweater, then pulled her hair into a lose knot on her crown before returning to the kitchen. 'One thing you've guys have got to learn about me,' she said, her eyes sweeping from one grinning face to the other. 'I never admit to defeat.' Patrick's grin became a smile. The ground seemed to lurch under Ellie's feet. She's never have thought his smile would be quite so delicious? It made her tingle from head to toe. Then she remembered his temper, and mentally stamped censored across his smile. She gave him an accusing look, turned back towards the bench and began to prepare the pancake batter all over again. ***

'I'm going into Benella to do some shopping.' Ellie also intended to lunch at the restaurant Andrew frequented, but she wasn't about to tell Patrick that. 'I can drop you off at your home if you like.' 'My home's in the creek.' The slim white sheath she'd changed into got a slow once-over. Although it covered her from neck to knee, Ellie suddenly felt naked. He smiled as she shrugged into a red leather jacket that matched her shoes, drawled. 'Actually, Eloise, you're not going anywhere.' 'Try and stop me.' The hostility in her voice didn't escape his notice. He frowned when she picked up the keys to the Land Rover. 'I won't have to, the creek's still up.' He plucked the keys from her hand. 'Besides ... I need the Rover. I might be able to get a line on the van when the water drops a bit. It's wedged against a tree.' 'In that case I'll take the long way round.' She took another set of keys from her bag and jiggled them triumphantly under his nose. 'I have my own car in the garage.' 'That English job.' His lips cracked into a grin. 'I bet that was expensive.' 'What off it?' Ellie's father had bought her the car before he died. The gift had been unexpected, because he usually respected her wish for independence. He'd excused his generosity by telling her the ancient mini she drove was unsafe and he worried about her. She'd accepted the car on that basis. Patrick shrugged. 'It will get dirty.' 'Haven't you ever heard of a car-wash,' she scoffed. She walked away from him when she detected the beginnings of a sneer on his face. 'I'll drop in on Andrew and see if he can provide you with another set of clothes, shall I?' 'Suit yourself.' The least he could have done was thank her, she fumed storming from the house. How one set of parents could have produced such a contrast in sons was beyond her. Andrew and Patrick Morgan were completely different in looks and personality. It was as if their genes had divided into two definite branches. Andrew was everything that was good, a golden haired angel with a kind gentle nature. Patrick? She snorted. Patrick was a dark-haired demon with a temper to match. She'd never despised anyone so much in her life. At least the rain had dwindled to a fine drizzle. Ellie congratulated herself as she backed the car from the garage. She hadn't really expected the rain spell to work. Now the drought was broken and the local farmers would be assured of good feed for their livestock in the coming summer. Deep in thought, Ellie headed down the hill towards the valley. Absently she followed the tracks of another vehicle, avoiding the potholes as best she could. The road was really a track, narrow in part, and rarely used since the council had graded a road through to her aunt's place. Not that they did it for her benefit. The house had once been part of a dairy farm. It had been bought by her aunt when the area had been parceled into hobby farms. The farms hadn't sold. The land was now owned by a consortium that intended to build a golf course and resort infrastructure. Her father had been involved in that. His share

was presently being argued over by the two banks who'd backed him in the project. It would be a shame to spoil this part of Victoria, she though, gazing at the rolling wooded hills as she rounded a bend and headed into the valley. It was part of her childhood. Each summer holiday had been spent here when she'd been growing up. She smiled as she remembered her childish excitement each time her father drove the one hundred and twenty miles from Melbourne to let her stay with her aunt and thrive in the country air. Her reveries were brought to a sudden end when the car skewed to a sudden halt. The breath left her body as she was thrown forward against her seat-belt. A slimy substance coated the windscreen, its suddenness making her flinch. Mud! She'd driven into a mud hole. She applied her eye to a small clear patch. She'd done more than that. Stretched in front of her was a debris filled lake. She'd forgotten the creek curved through the valley. The whole area was flooded. The tire tracks she'd followed? Her face screwed into a scowl. Patrick had already been down here. He'd known about this. Slamming the car into reverse she attempted to back out, but only succeeded in coating the rear window to match the front, and sinking deeper into the mire. The damned thing wasn't going to move. 'That misbegotten son of a ... ' She mentally apologized to Patrick's mother. It was at least two miles back to the house. She'd have to walk back and ask for his help. Her second shock came when she tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge. When she stuck her head out of the window she saw it was up over the door. The only way out was through the window. Hitching her skirt up to her thighs she extended one leg through the window. She managed to get a grip on the steering wheel with one hand then grabbed the back of the seat with the other. The other leg slid through, a bit of wiggling saw her buttocks balanced, then she shoved. She made a perfect landing. Both feet touched the mud at the same time, then her feet sank and she fell forward. 'Son of a bitch!' The leg made a sucking sound as her shoe was left behind, as did her next step. Concentrating on the vast expanse of mud she spat out various expletives - all aimed at Patrick Morgan - as she sludged her way to the bank. She stopped dead as a couple of wheels hove into her vision. Patrick lounged against the Rover, his arms crossed, a smile of pure delight on his face. 'You ... you ... ?' she spluttered. Her eyes narrowed when he chuckled. 'You did it on purpose, didn't you?' 'Did what? I told you the creek was still up. It's not my fault you chose not to listen.' Picking up a rope coiled on the bonnet he handed her the noosed end. 'Go and loop it over your tow bar. I'll haul you out.' 'Me?' She couldn't wade through that mud again. 'Why don't you do it?' 'It's your car and you're already dirty,' he pointed out. 'If you want to leave it there that's up to you.' He shrugged. 'If it rains again - '

'I get the message,' she hissed through gritted teeth. 'You've obviously got no intention of behaving like a gentleman.' 'Got it in one.' Ellie wished one of the black and white magpies that nested in the area would swoop down and pluck the amusement from his face. No - a giant prehistoric Pterandon would be better! It could flap away with Patrick clutched in its claws. It wouldn't know the difference between him and a cave man anyway. 'Well?' His eyes narrowed as he observed her malicious smile. 'Do you want your car towed out or not?' Now her imagination had disposed of him Ellie felt better. Mud was supposed to be good for the skin, she thought as she plunged back into the morass. A few minutes of groping under the slime located the tow bare. Triumphantly she attached the line. 'You can pull it out now.' Patrick didn't budge an inch. The impatience in her eyes made her wonder what she'd done wrong now. 'What are you waiting for?' she yelled. 'If the line breaks it will take your feather-brained skull with it, darling.' His voice became a roar. 'Get your provocative little rump out of there.' Arms wind-milling to keep her balance Ellie made it to the bank. How dare he shout at her like that? Who the hell did he think he was ordering her around? She was going to give him a piece of her mind - a large piece! Trust him to get into the Rover before she could act on it. Just you wait until you've finished, Patrick Morgan, she seethed, folding her arms as the motor roared into life. She moved to one side to watch the proceedings. It didn't take long. As the Rover backed away, her car slid from the mire like a hot knife through butter. 'No trouble at all.' Patrick jumped down from the Rover and unhooked the rope. 'Let's hope she starts.' 'If it doesn't it will be your fault.' She unhooked the tow rope and threw it angrily at his feet. 'Don't you ever shout at me like that again. I wish I'd never set eyes on you. You're the most arrogant male I've ever come across. You march into my aunt's home, treat me like dirt, then go out of your way to make as much trouble as possible. I wish I'd left you to drown at the creek last night.' Sucking in a deep breath she tried to think of something else to say, and failed. She just glared at him, her green eyes smoldering with all the venom she could muster. He smiled. 'Hasn't anyone taught you to say thanks?' Where had she heard those words before? She wished she hadn't mentioned the creek when she remembered. He wouldn't dare! He would dare. She didn't struggle as he jerked her against him. What was the use? She couldn't have broken his grip even if she'd wanted too. One of his hands had captured both of hers behind her back, the other was splayed against the back of her neck. Forced by this maneuver on to her toes, she had no balance and fell against the lean hard length of his body whilst his lips took their toll of hers.

Some punishments were sweet agony and this one fell right into that category. Half of her welcomed his kiss, the other half knew it should be fought. As soon as he relaxes his grip I'll definitely protest ... ? His tongue somehow found an opening, invited her to respond. He must have forced her! There must be something wrong with her own tongue to make it behave in such a fashion. Lack of oxygen? Chemically charged mud? Her body was prickling as though electricity was running through it. Perhaps they'd been hit by lightning. Desire hit her so quickly Ellie thought she must have died and gone to heaven. It started in her toes and spread upwards in a warm flood before centering in one sensual ache. Her stomach hollowed, her breasts nudged against the wiry warmth of his chest - and she melted. God! His kiss was dynamite, his body packaged to fulfill her most secret fantasies. He was lean, mean, and designed to possess. He stirred against her, evoking a corresponding response. He made her feel shockingly female in her urges. She reveled in the thought that he was as aroused as she. A murmur of pleasure whispered from her lips. Patrick's body stiffened. Suddenly his hands pushed her away. He gazed at her with an angry expression in his eyes. His voice had a harsh ragged sound to it. 'You're quite a tease.' Cold water couldn't have been a more effective catharsis. Dismayed by her own vulnerability she went into the attack. 'Don't you ever take responsibility for your own actions? I don't recall inviting you to kiss me, nor do I welcome your cave-man approach.' Burning with indignation she ignore the warning in his eyes. 'A gorilla with halitosis would have given me more pleasure. What's more ... ?' She caught sight of Todd gazing at her and lowered her voice to a whisper. 'What's more - I never tease.' 'Is that so?" His mouth slid into its ironic grin as his eyes insolently raked her body. 'I've got something to look forward to then.' 'You're much too sure of yourself, Patrick Morgan,' she spat out, watching him turn to climb into the Land Rover. 'Where are you going?' 'Back to the house, bossy boots.' Ellie had the satisfaction of seeing him almost as muddy as she was now. 'What if my car doesn't start?' 'Then you'll have to hoof it, lady.' 'No wonder your wife left you,' she taunted when he started the engine. 'Jack the Ripper pales into insignificance when you're around.' Abruptly the engine died. Leaping from the Rover he strode to where she stood and gripped her by the shoulders. 'Don't push me too far, Eloise. I don't want you to mention her again. Got it?' Ellie's mouth dried up as Patrick's cold eyes bored into hers. He'd spelled it out loud and clear. At the same time he'd aroused a spark of curiosity in her.

'Why?' She asked it so softly that Patrick looked as though he couldn't believe he'd heard it. There was an uncertainty in his expression that told her he wasn't used to being questioned. She took advantage of his apparent confusion. 'You seem to have some sort of prejudice towards me because of her.' 'Don't push it.' 'I won't pay the price for something she did.' Ellie saw her opportunity slipping away as his jaw tightened. 'I'll fight you every inch of the way.' 'You've got guts, I'll give you that.' His hands slid from her shoulders and he shrugged. 'Todd's mother and I were never married. She abandoned us both when the going got tough and married one of her own kind.' His voice was still curt, but the rigidity had left his body. He made and abrupt turn towards the Rover. 'See if your car starts. I'll wait.' It did after a few false starts. Whilst she followed Patrick back up the track Ellie realized that Patrick wasn't as tough as he made out. Not only was he capable of being hurt, he buried that hurt deep inside him. She reminded him of his lost love, that's why he lashed out at her. He would have to learn he wasn't the only one who'd been hurt. She didn't go around feeling sorry for herself or taking her failed love affair out on everyone else. When David Lessingham had gone she'd considered herself lucky they hadn't been married. Patrick should do the same. Any woman who abandoned her child didn't deserve a second thought in Ellie's book ... or any man come to that. It was odd that Todd didn't seem to be damaged by the loss of his mother. He didn't show any signs of the aggressive or withdrawn behavior that a majority of the kids she looked after did. Todd was polite, with just enough cheekiness to endear himself to her. He must have a very close relationship with his father to have escaped the trauma of his loss. Glancing at the two heads in the larger vehicle, she lifted her hand in a wave when Todd turned and gaze at her. Attention distracted, she failed to see the deep pothole. She instinctively ducked as the steering wheel jerked from her hand and a tree loomed menacingly in front of her. What had he called her ... a jinx? The screech of tortured metal and breaking glass made her wince before the airbag expanded suffocatingly into her face. "You must carry the same jinx as ... ?" Who had he been referring to - Todd's mother? Himself? As far as Ellie was concerned Patrick was the jinx. As the bag deflated around her she wondered if the book of spells had a formula to remove it. It was worth a try. Tension was making her head ache. As she heard the Rover squeal to a stop she knew Patrick was going to be furious with her. She couldn't stand being shouted at again. 'Ellie?' His voice sounded incensed, the thud of his footfall very near and very menacing. Patrick was a man who didn't suffer fools gladly, and she'd been an absolute idiot. Under the circumstances, Ellie took the only sensible course she could think of. She decided to faint.

CHAPTER THREE 'Is Ellie going to wake up?' If she didn't it would be all Patrick's fault. After a cursory check of her pulse and a more personal exploration of her limbs that was necessary, he'd simply pulled her from her car, thrown her over his shoulder and dumped her on the back seat of the Rover. It had been an effort not to sink her talons into the twin mounds of his buttocks as her dangling fingers brushed against them. A greater effort was to stay limp when the Rover seemed to bounce through every pothole in the track. Now she was lying on the couch Patrick used as a bed, wondering if it was safe to wake up. Never having experienced a faint Ellie wasn't sure how long it should last. 'Don't worry Todd, she's a tough as they come.' How could he sound so casual? She might have a broken back for all he knew. 'Thanks for the sympathy, Patrick. I love you too. 'A pity about her face.' Patrick's fingers plucked something from her hair. It made a pinging sound as he dropped in on to a metallic surface. 'Let's hope she knows of a good plastic surgeon.' Plastic surgery! That was glass he'd taken from her hair. Both hands shot to her face at the same time. Patrick chuckled as she gazed with horror through her fingers at him. 'What's wrong with it?' 'Nothing. It's the most perfect face I've ever seen.' Ellie was unprepared for the warmth of Patrick's laughter. He didn't seem in the least annoyed at the moment. Maybe - just maybe - she'd over-reacted to him initially. Interest came into her eyes and her mouth twitched into a grin. 'How did you know I was faking it?' 'By the reaction of your body when I examined you for broken limbs.' 'Some of the places you examined didn't have limbs,' she muttered, coloring at the intimacy of his smile. His second chuckle bathed her in warmth. 'I had to be thorough. Would you mind telling me why you felt you had to go to such lengths?' 'I was scared you'd have a piece of me.' 'You were scared. Todd nearly had hysterics when you hit that tree. You're a walking disaster area, Eloise.' Ellie took Todd's hand and kissed it in comfort. Patrick needed no such reassurance. Already his eyes were mirroring impatience. His hand rasped over his day old beard as if it annoyed him as much as she did. Added to his already battered face, the whiskers gave him a disreputable air. 'I'm ... sorry.' Much as she begrudged the fact, she did owe him an apology.

'Am I such a tartar, Ellie?' Of course he was. He'd thrown down the gauntlet in his hostile manner of asking. She itched to remind him of the fact, but prudently avoided provoking another battle. 'Your appearance is a little bit intimidating at the moment.' Todd edged on to the couch and leaned against her arm. Instinct brought Ellie's arm around him, her lips to the top of his head in a kiss. He snuggled against her with a grin on his face. Patrick's brown furrowed as his hand rasped over his chin again. 'I'm hardly in any position to do anything about it.' 'I have some disposable razors,' she suggested. 'If they're any good.' 'They're better than nothing, I suppose.' A grin nudged at his mouth as he rose to his feet. 'Do you have any aftershave in your kit?' 'I'm afraid not.' She ignored the mockery in his eyes. 'There's cologne in the bathroom cupboard if you want to try that.' 'As long as it's not one of your concoctions ... ?' She colored again when his glance washed over her in suspicion. 'I was one big itch last night.' Trust him to remind her of that. Ellie watched him move, loose-hipped towards the door. He'd recovered hadn't he? Was it her fault the book didn't cover the possibility of side effects? The book! Panic gripped her when she realized she'd left it on the coffee table in this very room. Her eyes darted to the table and she froze for a second. Then she saw its cover sticking out from under a cushion and sighed with relief. If Patrick found out his hives were the result of some magical mayhem he'd make her life a misery. *** Misery came in different forms it seemed. No sooner was lunch over than Patrick rose to his feet. 'Let's go.' 'Go where?' Full to the brim with baked beans and toast, Ellie was contemplating how she could remove the mud from her two most expensive outfits without ruining them. 'First we'll get your car, then we'll go after my van.' 'Can't it wait?' 'No.' His eyes darkened. 'All I own is in that van.' 'You can't own much.' She hadn't meant to sound so perverse. 'I used to own much more, before ... ?' He seemed to make an effort to control the anger that came into his eyes.

'Before what?' Intently she gazed back at him. Was this something to do with Todd's mother? 'Before someone decided to relieve me of what I've worked for all my life.' His bitterness turned into a personal attack. 'Someone like you wouldn't understand that.' 'Try me.' 'Look at you.' His eyes did just that. Ellie wanted to curl up and die at the derision in them. 'Everything about you screams class. Look at that ring you wear. Did you ever consider suckers like me have to work their butts off to provide it all.' Patrick was being unfair. The fact that she'd grown up in comparative luxury had nothing to do with anything. Sure she had good clothes. She'd learned that a couple of good outfits when mixed and matched, were more economical and stylish than several cheaper ones. Most of her clothes were bought from a recycling boutique run by her house-mate. Anne specialized in designer garments, knew her taste, and brought home any likely size ten garment that came into the shop. These Ellie altered in some way. It wasn't often she indulged in something new. Her smoky purple Liz Davenport had been an exception. Ellie had practically starved for a fortnight to pay for it. 'Since when have you provided my clothes?' Blazing with anger at the implied slight she shot to her feet. 'Anyone would think you're the only one who works around here. If someone relieved you of your money whose fault is that?' 'Mine I guess.' Patrick's hand thumped on the table in frustration, making the crockery rattle. He looked totally frustrated as he gazed, tight-lipped across the table. 'I started to get big ideas and came a cropper. That's what comes of associating with the moneyed pack.' 'So you're a capitalist at heart.' She smiled at the surprise in his eyes. 'Tell me about it.' She didn't really want to know, and didn't expect an answer. It was her turn to be surprised. 'I took a contract to redecorate a couple of high-rise buildings in Melbourne and hired a team. The company that owned it went bust just as we finished. I never got paid.' 'Oh.' She thought about it for a moment. 'Did you apply to the auditor assigned to the company for payment?' 'Of course.' Exasperated by the ensuing silence she drummed her fingers on the table. 'What happened?' 'They intimated I was a small fish in a big pond, and would be advised in due course.' He sounded angry rather than self-pitying which was a point in his favor. An element of sympathy crept into her voice. 'These things take time. Did you lose much?' 'Not by your standards.' Why did he have to make everything so personal? Her only investment was her trust fund. Although it was sizable she intended to keep it safely invested. She might just need it one day.

'I had to sell my home to pay my crew off. My capital just covered the bank loan. I was left with the caravan to live in, and the truck.' 'You and Todd live in the caravan?' 'Isn't that what I just said?' They were staring at each other across the table when he suddenly smiled. Two fascinating dimples appeared in his cheeks. His face was rather interesting up close if one disregarded the battle scars he'd collected of late. The little dent on his otherwise straight nose was an old scar. She touched it gently with her finger. 'How did you get that?' 'A magpie.' 'A magpie?' She couldn't keep the laughter from her eyes as she remembered her flight of fancy regarding his disposal earlier on. 'I was after its egg.' Patrick laughed and Ellie found herself laughing with him. 'That damned magpie never forgot. It swooped me for years afterwards.' 'Did it ever get you again?' His glance dropped to her mouth. 'Once. Right in the middle of my lip.' His finger found her bottom lip and caressed it. 'I was fifteen then, in love with the most popular girl in my class. She dropped me when I couldn't kiss her.' 'Poor you,' she murmured, her mouth becoming dry. 'She had lips like yours.' His voice had a husky sound. 'Sort of crumpled on the bottom and curvy on the top.' Ellie shivered as his fingers ran along her bottom lip. 'I always wanted to kiss the crumpled bit.' If he was going to kiss her crumpled bit he'd better hurry up. Todd was tugging at the leg of her jeans and she knew exactly what he was after. 'May I have a biscuit please, Ellie?' The glimmer of passion in Patrick's eyes faded to regret, then an awareness of what had been about to happen. Casually he straightened. 'Bring the biscuit tin along. It will keep him busy whilst we get your expensive toy back on the road.' *** Ellie's car wasn't as badly damaged as she'd first feared. The damaged wing and broken windscreen were repairable. She drove it into the garage when they got back to the house, then transferred herself to the waiting Rover. The rain had been replaced by a stiff breeze that whipped the branches of the eucalyptus into a frenzy. It brought a peculiar smell of rotting vegetation to her nostrils. Patrick stared up at the ragged streamers of clouds when they reached the creek. 'If the rain holds off

the creek should be passable in a couple of days. It's already dropped a bit.' 'How are you going to get the caravan out?' Still upright, its windows lapped by water, the van had been carried across the creek and wedged against a tree. 'I'm going to swim across and attached this chain, then use a block and tackle tied to a tree and winch it across.' He was mad! 'You'll sink if you try and swim with that chain.' The look her gave her was scathing. 'I'm using a rope. When I'm across I'll pull the chain over. Keep your eye on Todd. He hasn't learned to swim yet.' Patrick stripped down to a pair of snug fitting black underpants. He shivered slightly. 'Here goes. Let's hope I don't encounter any snags.' Ellie held her breath as he waded into the fast flowing creek. She needn't have worried. After one breath-taking moment when the van drifted sideways and Ellie thought it might turn over, the whole operation ran like clockwork. It emerged from the creek like a sinking ship in reverse, with water pouring out from under the door and windows. 'Wow!' Overwhelmed by the whole event Todd turned to her with an excited smile on his face. 'That was great. Now I can have my leggo and bike to play with.' 'I'm afraid your bike was on the truck, mate.' Ellie's eyes followed Patrick's when he glanced downstream. 'Perhaps we'll be able to find it when the creek's dropped.' 'I think ... ?' There was a disturbance in the middle of the creek about fifty yards from where they stood. Ellie's eyes strained to compete with the light and shadow. There were actually four disturbances. She pointed them out. 'I think that might be the truck.' Together they set off down the bank. The disturbances turned out to be water diverting around the barely exposed tires. 'It's upside-down.' Patrick shrugged as he hoisted Todd to his shoulders and tuned back towards the car. 'Let's go. There's nothing we can do about it now.' Noting the despondency in his voice, Ellie realized the value of the assets to Patrick. By his own admission he'd lost everything. First his house and savings, now his caravan and truck. But he couldn't be more than thirty, she thought, watching his long limbs stride through the undergrowth. He'd built up his business once. He could do it again. Not like her father. She'd been a late and unexpected child for him. The complications surrounding her birth had caused her mother to die shortly afterwards. Her father had outlived her mother by twenty-four years. Although he'd never admitted it, Ellie knew he'd gradually lost his grip on the company in that time. He'd left the investment side to up-and-coming young men like David Lessingham. She was glad her father hadn't lived to witness David's betrayal.

For herself there had been a certain freedom in the winding up of her father's company. Fortified by her own independence she'd absorbed the dangerous roller-coaster of blow after blow. She'd been relieved that the responsibility of the company had not been placed on her shoulders. It took a certain type of person to run a business, and it was something she wasn't equipped to handle. Patrick had the guts to do it. 'You're not going to lay down and die are you?' She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud until she was the recipient of a ferocious scowl. 'What do you think?' Ellie smiled to herself as she climbed into the Rover and observed the stubborn set to Patrick's profile. No ... he wasn't the type to take a licking. She sensed him watching her watch him, and flicked her eyes to the driving mirror. The smile he suddenly gave her was devastating. A thunderous rush of adrenaline set her heart pounding and salted her tongue. Patrick was a dangerous man, and she thrived on danger. 'You have a sneaky habit of prodding me where it hurts.' She made her eyes all round and innocent, her voice sugary sweet. 'It's what's called a reciprocal arrangement.' 'I see.' He choked back a laugh as he started the engine. 'A love affair with you should prove to be interesting.' Did he think she was stupid to fall for such an opener? Love affairs were dangerous unless conducted in a completely clinical manner. Never involve the heart. David Lessingham had informed her of that when the crunch had come. Although Ellie had been crushed at the time, once she'd thought it through, she'd felt relief at his fastidious precautions. David would have married her only to get the company. She'd had a lucky escape. Ellie still wanted the security of marriage, but her sights were set on Patrick's brother now. Even the hint of an affair with Patrick would render that impossible. Andrew had struck her as being slightly old-fashioned, a bit like her father had been. 'You'll never get the chance to find out.' Ignoring his chuckle, she turned and stared out of the window for the rest of the way home. *** 'Is there anything I can do to help?' Littered with everything portable from the van, the garden resembled a jumble sale. 'If you want to make yourself useful you can put my clothes through the wash.' Patrick attached the hose to the tap, attached himself to the other end and disappeared into the interior of the van. 'Yes, master,' she breathed. His head reappeared in the doorway. 'Turn the tap on. I forgot.'

'Yes, master.' This time she made sure Patrick heard. 'Sarcasm is a very unfeminine trait, Eloise.' A sliver of a smile stretched his lips when she touched her forelock before bending to do his bidding. The significance of it hit her in the seat of the pants when she flicked on the tap. 'Sorry.' He aimed the nozzle of the hose away from her and chuckled when she turned and glared at him. 'I was distracted by the view.' Ellie managed to stop herself going into the attack. Hadn't she admired his rear view a couple of times? Did it matter if he expressed his appreciation of hers out loud, whereas ... she admired his in secret? That was a difference between men and women. Women fantasized, men acted on their fantasies. She suspected if women told their fantasies to their partners, they'd experience a more exciting and fulfilling relationship. The fantasy of using Patrick as a slave to her passion was an interesting notion. Laughing inside, she gathered up his soggy clothes and headed for the laundry. From what she'd seen he was certainly equipped for the job. 'That's terrific, Todd.' Ellie put her fantasy on hold and stopped to admire the leggo house Todd was working on. 'You're pretty good at that.' Todd didn't even bother to feign modesty. 'I'm going to be a builder when I grow up. Just like Patch.' 'I thought your dad painted houses.' 'That's 'cause the business went bust.' Todd frowned as he carefully set a window into place. 'One day me and Patch are going to build our own house.' Gazing up at her he smiled. 'You can come and live in it if you like.' 'Thank you, Todd.' Ellie dropped a light kiss on the child's head before continuing through to the laundry. She could imagine the welcome she'd get from Patrick if she turned up on the doorstep with her suitcases. The afternoon flew by in a frenzy of washing. The garments dried swiftly in the blustery wind. Ellie had just whittled it down to a pile of jeans when Patrick returned to the house. 'Is there any tea brewing?' 'Finished already?' Surprised, she gazed at the clock. 'I didn't realize it was so late.' 'It's almost dusk.' He watched her fill the kettle. 'I'll start on dinner in a minute.' 'I'll do it if you like,' she said reluctantly. She should have started earlier. 'I think there's some sausages in the freezer and there's baked beans left over from lunch.' 'Frozen sausages aren't much good.' Patrick threw her a frown. 'And I ate enough beans to last me a lifetime.' He opened the larder door and stared into the interior. 'We can have salmon patties, peas, tomatoes and chips.'

'That sounds simple.' Joining him at the larder door Ellie gazed inside. 'Where are the salmon patties?' Patrick's eyes slid sideways towards her, his fingers drummed a tattoo on the door. 'You make them.' 'Oh.' she thought for a moment, then gazed at him helplessly. 'I'm not very good at pastry.' Ellie didn't know whether the snort Patrick gave was amusement or derision. His eyes gave nothing away. 'They don't have pastry.' 'I've got some frozen dinners,' she suggested. 'I've seen them.' Realization came into his eyes, and with it, condemnation. 'Just what I need,' he drawled. 'A woman who can't cook anything apart from baked beans.' 'If I'd known you were going to be a house guest I'd have enrolled in a cordon bleu course.' He'd discovered her Achilles heel, and she just knew he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make mileage out of it. Her sarcasm brought a tight smile to his lips. 'Cordon bleu? 'That's not much use to a hungry man.' His voice became pitying. 'It doesn't take much imagination to realize how limiting your life-style has been if you never learned to cook for yourself.' 'That's because your imagination itself is limited,' she snapped. Her blood had reached boiling point. 'Your reference to the life I apparently live is based on ignorance, as is your presumption that I'm useless.' 'Anything else?' The quietly dangerous voice warned her he was at his limit. Ellie wondered how much it would take to push him over the edge. 'Yes.' Stubbornly she stood her ground. 'You've got a giant-sized chip on your shoulder, Patrick Morgan. You'd be better off without it.' Had Patrick sprung on her body and mauled her with his teeth Ellie wouldn't have been surprised. He was tensed like a coiled spring, his jaw rigid, his eyes molten metal. The heat from his skin was a volatile wave that rose from taut muscles and filled the confined space they shared. Todd's piping voice was a faint echo on the periphery of his anger, like a kitten clamoring to come in from the cold. Ellie couldn't tear her eyes away from Patrick. She daren't. He was poised to strike like a snake. Deep in his eyes she saw her image, like a trapped mouse. The image trembled as he took a deep steadying breath. He closed his eyes as if in torment, releasing her, 'Ellie?' A small hand tugged at her sleeve with some urgency. 'There's water coming in under the door.' Patrick's eyes snapped open, his face assumed its usual sardonic expression. Insight told Ellie he wore it as a defense. 'You seem to be flooding the house.' Patrick?' She gently touched his arm, wished she could do something to help him come to terms with his anger. He shrugged away from her touch. 'I'll cook dinner. Go and do something about the flood before we all

drown.' Damn the man! Wasn't there any softness in him at all? Turning her back on him she scurried into the laundry and surveyed the mess. This was all she needed - a blocked sink. She switched off the machine and placed a towel across the doorway to prevent any more water seeping through. Opening the cupboard where her aunt kept the tools she selected what she needed. Ten minutes later she'd cleared a wad of paper from the U bend, and was just about to tighten the stopper when Patrick's face appeared in her line of vision. 'You should have asked me to do that.' Why should she - because he was a man? Did he think because she was female she was helpless? Starting to simmer again she picked up the hammer and whacked at the lever she'd placed across the stopper. Immediately her temper improved. 'It's done, thank you.' 'You've forgotten to replace the washer.' A small dictionary of swear words flashed through her mind. Snatching the washer from his outstretched hand she clamped her teeth together in frustration and banged the lever in the other direction. 'Damn!' she muttered. 'I've cross threaded the thing.' Why was she all fingers and thumbs when Patrick was around? Patrick slid under the sink beside her. The sink was set in an extra large cupboard, but Patrick's presence turned them into instant sardines. 'What are you doing?' The frosty glance she gave him was negated when her nose collided with the tip of his and he laughed. 'What was so funny about that?' She made a conscious effort not to laugh herself. 'Stop stirring me. Get out of my cupboard this instant.' 'You're crazy, Eloise.' His open smile sent her heart leaping into her throat. Nice straight teeth with hardly a filling in sight. What are you, Ellie? she asked herself. A dentist? Concentrate of the fact that he's actually smiling. She suddenly remembered a song about crocodiles she sang to the kids at the child-minding center. Perhaps Patrick intended to bite her. She returned his smile anyway. She couldn't help it. 'I was sane until I met you.' A drip of water landed on her face and he removed it with his finger. 'It's not often I drive a woman insane.' He wouldn't have to try very hard. Although he didn't seem aware of it, Patrick's sex appeal was becoming very obvious to her. It wasn't what he did exactly, just the way he was. A dynamic force seemed to surround him. It was mental, not the physical energy she'd noticed before. Closing her eyes she felt it penetrate her, and drew on its strength. Aunt Vera would have described it as his aura. She preferred to call it vibes. 'What star sign are you?' she asked out of curiosity.

'Scorpio.' The most sensual sign of the zodiac. Ellie wondered what he'd be like as a lover. Hadn't she read that a Scorpio male's ego wouldn't allow him to leave his partner unsatisfied? Passion and dominance was characteristic of his sign. So was deviousness. When she flicked her eyes open she found Patrick observing her. Of course he was. Patrick was facing her, where else would he look? She was reading more into the relationship than there was. What relationship? Dryness attacked her lips and her tongue automatically moistened them. Her hormones were running amok if she imagined Patrick found her attractive. They shared a mutual dislike of each other. Tearing her eyes away from his she reached for the stopper. 'Stubborn brute,' she muttered when it wouldn't budge. 'Let me.' His hand circled hers, applied a small amount of pressure. The stopper twisted free. A tiny trickle of water splattered her face. Keeping the stopper enclosed in their cupped hands he slipped the washer over the end and helped her screw it back in. The joint operation was smoothly performed as if it were one person, one hand. 'Thanks.' Surprised he hadn't put on some display of male superiority she forgot to remove her hand. Carrying it to his lips he kissed the palm. An erotic little quiver stroked up the inside of her arm and lodged in the bend of her elbow. 'My pleasure.' She wouldn't have picked Patrick for being a flirt. 'If you find fixing the plumbing a pleasure, it's you who's crazy.' She'd like to coat his sensual mouth with honey and lick it all off. Hell! Where had that thought come from? 'Being in your cupboard with you is the pleasure.' His dark silky lashes lowered a fraction. 'I'd still like to kiss that crumpled bit.' Ditto! Their minds seemed to be running along the same lines at the moment. It was better than fighting. 'Go ahead whilst you have me at a disadvantage.' Ellie knew she'd have to watch herself if her tongue kept releasing her inner thoughts. Earlier in the day they'd bordered on pornography. His hand had already cupped her chin in the limited space. The gentle pressure of his fingers molded her lips into a perfect kissable shape. The sigh of resignation she gave when his mouth captured his prize turned into a sigh of complete and utter ecstasy. The tip of his tongue painted her lips with nectar, then tenderly suggested the possibility of further exploration. She allowed him access before the insidious little voice in her head advised her against it. She didn't like half measures. Either one did or one didn't. Half a kiss was worse than useless, would leave her wondering. Better to experience it all at once, then it was done with. Acting on her own advice she stopped thinking and started experiencing. Sensation followed sensation. Starting from her mouth a glow crept down to the column of her neck than outwards to each breast. Stopping only to pulse each center into fullness it gathered momentum and fanned down her body in one fiery flash.

Sensuality was something Ellie acknowledged in herself, but the riot he provoked in her was unprecedented. Had their bodies not been effectively separated by the cold metal U bend she'd have succumbed to the temptation to slide her pelvis against its natural mate. Suction against her lower lip told her he'd reached the object of his desire. He turned it into a sweet red cherry as he took it in his mouth. As kisses go this one was sublime. Tingles spread down her limbs and her toes curled upwards. Patrick topped it off with a restrained bite that made her groan with its promise of passion. A touch of coolness on her sensitized mouth reminded her the kiss was over. Regretfully she opened her eyes. 'That was really something.' The low sexy murmur of his voice was music to her ears. Perhaps the spell had worked after all. If she was going to make him suffer she might as well start right now. 'If one kiss has given you ideas you can forget it right now. I don't indulge in casual affairs.' The words thrown mockingly in his face couldn't have been a more effective dampener. Patrick slid out from under the sink and stood up. 'A man with any sense should keep you at arm's length, Eloise.' The effect she'd had on him was driven home by the signs the visible portion of his body presented. He only had himself to blame, she thought guiltily. His jean-clad legs and hips turned suddenly, his perfect backside headed for the door. 'I'm going to get a shower,' he muttered. Sliding out from under the sink, Ellie made face as the door slammed behind him. 'Obviously you haven't got any sense, Patrick Morgan.'

CHAPTER FOUR There seemed to be no spell in the book to reverse the effects of the love potion, nor one for removing a jinx. Ellie decided to put Patrick's problem in the hands of fate. She'd once won some money of the Melbourne Cup using her tried and trusty method. She closed her eyes and flicked through the pages, stabbing her finger into a spot halfway through. "Improving The Disposition." That would do. 'One teaspoon of oil of ginger, one of peppermint, one of lavender seeds,' she muttered. 'Add to boiling water, stir with a whisker of a cat. Stand overnight.' It sounded simple. There was powdered ginger and peppermint essence in the larder, lavender seeds in a pomander in the dresser. A cat's whisker ... ? Absently Ellie scratched Scruff's chin. 'You won't mind donating a whisker in the quest for peace, will you Scruff?'

Scruff commandeered the chair she vacated and curled up in a huge fluffy ball as she fetched the ingredients and dropped them into a mug. Her nose wrinkled when she added the boiling water. It smelled vile. How on earth would she persuade Patrick to drink it?' Deciding to figure it out in the morning she headed for the comatose Scruff. Her finger and thumb closed around one of his whiskers and she gave a gentle tug. 'Anyone would think I was trying to murder you!' Nursing the scratch on her hands Ellie glared at the shelf above the range. Scruff glared back at her. Ears flattened, tail lashing back and forth, his yellow eyes were malevolent. Ellie picked up the pieces of the jug he'd knocked to the floor and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. 'You were a sweet fluffy kitten once,' she muttered, bestowing a frown on her adversary. 'If it hadn't been for me you'd still be in the cat's home. There's gratitude for you.' 'What the devil's going on in here?' Trust Patrick to turn up at the wrong moment. His nose twitched. 'And what's that disgusting smell?' 'A .... a sleeping draught,' she lied. 'I couldn't sleep.' At least that much was true. And the reason she couldn't sleep was standing right in front of her, in a skimpy toweling shave coat, his hair all tousled up from contact with the pillow. If Patrick hadn't kissed her, she wouldn't have spent the last three hours tossing and turning whilst her body tormented her with the fact that she was a woman without a mate. 'I'm sorry you were woken up.' Another lie, but she couldn't very well tell him he'd deserved it. Opening her hands she exposed the shards of pottery and diverted the blame away from herself before depositing them in the bin. 'Scruff knocked this off the shelf. That's what woke you.' 'I wasn't asleep.' Ellie's eyes narrowed slightly as he subsided on to a chair. If Patrick couldn't sleep here was the perfect opportunity. If she could get him to swallow the draught her troubles would be over. Did it really matter if it hadn't been stirred with the whisker of a cat, or left overnight? Summoning up a friendly smile she indicated the cooling potion. 'You can have some of that if you like.' Suspicion came into his eyes. 'It smells like boiled mothballs. You made it for yourself - you drink it. She should have known he'd be difficult. Feigning a yawn she sauntered casually towards the door. 'I don't think I need it. Actually, Patrick, I feel quite sleepy.' The corner of her eye picked up the spell book lying open on the table. Momentarily she froze, then, heart banging like a drum, reached out to pick it up. 'Not so fast, Eloise.' Lightning fast, Patrick's hand descended on hers and effectively immobilized it. 'Let's see what we have here.' 'No!' Realizing the futility of struggling against his superior strength, she relaxed. 'It's personal.'

'You're not kidding!' The mockery in his eyes brought flaming colour to her face. 'Who's disposition are you trying to improve.' 'Yours.' Hating the chuckle he gave, and unable to hide her embarrassment, Ellie sighed. 'You're the most bad-tempered man I've ever met.' 'And you want to turn me into a pussy cat.' Automatically her glance flicked to Scruff. He was gazing at her through satisfied eyes and purring loudly, as if pleased with her predicament. Scruff and Patrick were two of a kind, but that could change. Ellie was grinning as she brought her eyes back to Patrick. 'Actually, I have a mouse in mind at the moment.' 'How long have you been a witch?' What a ridiculous question. Ellie's eyes widened in astonishment. 'Tell me, green eyes ...' A grin plastered his face. 'Do you need a license to pilot a broomstick or can anyone do it?' Just at the moment Ellie would have given anything to qualify for a pointed hat and a diploma in sorcery. She'd wouldn't even mind the mandatory wart on the end of her nose. 'Sometimes I hate you, Patrick Morgan.' His hand had relaxed, but it tightened instantly when she tried to move away. 'Keep still,' he growled, flicking the book's pages over. 'I want to find out what else you've been up too.' 'Please don't.' The conciliatory note in her voice made her squirm. 'It was just ... just fun.' 'If you think those hives I got were fun you can think again.' She held her breath when he reached the page with the love potion, then let it out when he moved past it. She was safe! No, she wasn't - he'd turned back to it. Ellie wished the ground would open and swallow her up when he smiled. 'Ah-hah!' Anyone would think he'd discovered penicillin by the triumph in his voice. 'I didn't realize you were mad about me.' 'Wrong, Patrick.' Palpitations attacked her when he turned wicked eyes her way and her voice began to wobble alarmingly. 'Actually, I think I detest you.' 'Come now, Eloise.' He was literally purring as he pulled her on to his lap. 'I turn you on, admit it.' Torture by a thousand cuts wouldn't made her admit to that! The predatory smile on his face and the fact they were isolated by flood water suddenly alarmed her. Even the telephone was disabled. What if Patrick ... ? Ellie closed her mind over the word that entered her head, and swallowed. She became aware that she wore nothing but a short satin slip under her robe. He was wearing even less. His robe had parted, and the soft curves of her buttocks yielded to the harder columns of his thighs. Every individual hair seemed sensitized by the filmy material of her attire, as if reminding her of his gender. Against the side of her leg another reminder of his gender. Soft and warm, one wrong move on her part would turned the sleeping giant into a marauding warrior.

'Let me go, Patrick,' she pleaded, trying to ignore the steamy sensation of his breath penetrating the fabric of her nightie. How could she ignore it? It was bathing her nipples in hot and cold. A warm sauna when he breathed out, a cool shower when he breathed in. She wished he'd stop breathing. It was deliciously tantalizing, but bad for her libido. 'No way, angel.' The sauna swept upwards, his lips coming to rest against the hollow of her throat. 'If you give a man a love-potion you must be prepared to sample the consequences.' A paroxysm of shivers attacked her spine as his tongue feathered the hollow. 'You smell delicious.' His voice had dropped to a husky murmur. 'Is it some sort of aphrodisiac you've whipped up for my benefit?' She became aware that an aphrodisiac was not needed as his hand caressed a silken journey from her thigh and came to rest on her hip bone. His fingers fanned in all directions, each bent on their own distraction. Both her stomach and waist hollowed obligingly under the attack. God! She gasped as one of his fingers just brushed her in the most sensitive spot. She couldn't remember moving within his reach. 'Stop,' Her hand came down on his and missed. He was moving it towards her breast. It kept moving as hers came down over it. 'I like a women who participates.' She wasn't participating but she couldn't tell him that. His mouth had cut off her power of speech. His tongue became a poisoned dart, drugging her into lethargy, his finger- tips, wandering minstrels that made her body sing. She didn't want it to sing to his tune, she wanted him to sing to hers. Desperately she tried to peel the hand from her breast. Like an octopus its tentacles clung. Taking the only option open to her Ellie bit into his lip. His oath was aptly suited to his intent. Although the bite had a beneficial effect, she knew from the pressure on her thigh that the benefit had mostly been his. 'You play rough.' Clasping her under the buttocks he stood up and kicked the chair from under them. His eyes were dark with passion and he gave an evil grin as he backed her towards the wall. 'What are you waiting for my green-eyed little witch. Don't be shy.' Ellie closed her eyes to block out his lascivious expression. Held close against the temptation of his body, her mind refused to obey what seemed a natural progression to a perfect position under the circumstances. She didn't want to be coupled in lust like a whore. She wanted tenderness. Tears squeezed from under her lids. 'Don't do this, Patrick, please.' His fingers tangled in her hair, pulled her head back. Her eyes opened in protest at the discomfort, and encountered a hostile expression. 'Say again?' 'Please don't.' Damn, her teeth were chattering. 'I ... don't have any ... protection.' His eyes hooded over, the tip of his tongue slid slowly over his bruised lip. 'Why not?'

Why not? It was obvious why not. Did he think her the type who carried protection in her bag in case of a chance encounter with every randy male she met? Her eyes met his and her lip curled. He was a typical example of male carelessness. He'd had his fun without commitment, without thought. The result was Todd. If he was so overbearingly arrogant to believe every woman took the pill as a matter of course, he could think again. 'Why don't you?' 'It wasn't me who initiated this.' He smiled gently as his eyes scanned her tear-stained face. Patrick was in complete control of himself. 'Any man would jump at what you're offering.' She formed a strong suspicion he'd just attempted to teach her a lesson. 'I'm not offering anything.' Her nightie had ridden up, and Patrick's hands were warm against the cushions they supported. They were brands burning into her flesh. Ellie wanted to grin when the irreverent thought of wearing two permanent hand-prints came into her mind. That would take some explaining. Her dangling feet scratched at his shins. 'Put me down, Patrick. I got your message loud and clear. Besides ... you're not doing yourself any favors.' 'Nor you.' Lowering her to the floor he pushed her to arms length, then grinned before opening the door to the hall. 'How about conjuring up a pot of tea. I think you and I need to talk.' He'd gone to cool his ardor with a shower. Ellie could hear the water running as she filled the kettle and set out the tea things. Scruff descended from the shelf and wove ingratiating little circles round her ankles when she opened the refrigerator for the milk. 'Traitor,' she accused, topping up his saucer. 'If it hadn't been for you this wouldn't have happened.' Her glance lit on the disposition elixir then went down to the cat. 'Just a teaspoon in the interest of science wouldn't hurt you,' she murmured. 'You owe me.' Patrick was back within minutes. The damp circles of hair visible at the vee of his robe clung damply to his skin. Ellie gave him a nervous glance as he took a chair at the opposite end of the table. 'You don't have to worry.' His smile was whipped cream and made her more nervous. 'Vera's a friend of mine. I'm not about to force myself on her niece.' He picked up his cup and sniffed at it suspiciously. 'This isn't doctored with anything, is it?' 'Strychnine.' A mental image painted a skull and crossbones on the sugar basin. Ellie watched him add two scoops to his cup. Any minute now he'd turn black and curl around the edges. Her eyes narrowed as he took a couple of tentative sips. She jumped when he clutched his stomach and gave a realistic groan. 'Shut up, Patrick.' Determined not to laugh, Ellie picked up her cup and swallowed a mouthful of tea. 'If you're going to rub it in, I'm going to bed. I feel stupid enough as it is.' 'So you should. Vera will have a fit when she finds out what you've been up too.' Patrick's smile was smugly satisfied when he leaned back in his chair.

'You're going to tell her I dosed you up with love potion?' Amused, Ellie burst out laughing. Her seventy year old aunt was disconcertingly off-beat. She'd thoroughly approve of the action. 'Go ahead. If she thought I wanted you she'd make a stronger one and drip-feed it to you.' 'If you detest me so much why did you do it in the first place?' 'It wasn't intended for you, Patrick.' She could have bitten her tongue off when comprehension dawned in his eyes. 'Let me see ... ?' Her heart sank when his wicked expression returned. 'You were all dressed up when I arrived. You were expecting my brother, I believe.' Her heightened colour endorsed his speculation. Slanting his head to one side he appeared to think. 'Yes ... Andrew has a gift for attracting women. The trouble is, green-eyes, you're not his type, and he's definitely not yours.' 'Really?" The frosty look she bestowed on him changed to alarm when he elaborated. 'You're more my type.' He made her sound like a blood donation. At the stroke of midnight his fangs would descend and pierce her jugular vein. Goodbye Ellie Bryce. She gave a delicate shiver. 'You weren't born in Transylvania by any chance?' 'Glamorgan, in Wales.' There were no fangs evident in his smile, just a row of perfectly even teeth. This man displayed everything desirable in a male, except ...? Ellie wanted to gnash her teeth in frustration. He was a law unto himself. He'd expect a woman to subjugate herself. 'What makes you think I'm your type?' She hoped he didn't think she was fishing for a compliment when she was merely curious as to his reasoning. 'I like your independent quality.' That blew her theory out of the window. 'You'd treat your partner as an equal instead of a meal ticket.' There must be a catch. Ellie warily recalled her relationship with David Lessingham. That had started as an equal partnership. They'd kept their living arrangements separate, their relationship private. Weekends were spent at his flat, or at a country hotel. 'It's better that way,' David had said. 'Your father's my boss. He wouldn't like you involved in speculation.' David had been her first serious male friend. His blonde good looks, his sophistication, had completely bowled her over. In her naiveté she'd been led to expect more than a one-sided love affair. She remembered the callous remark he'd made the last time they'd met. She'd been in tears after he told her he was going abroad the next day. 'Put it down to experience, Ellie. It's time for me to move on, marriage doesn't figure in my plans now the company's gone bust.' Equal partners? Where did equality begin and end? In bed? A tight smile stretched across her lips. 'Explain your idea of equality to me, Patrick.'

'Give and take.' Patrick shrugged, seemingly uncertain. 'You would demand back as much as you put into a relationship.' 'Is that wrong?' 'Did I say it was?' Finishing his tea he stood up. 'I'm trying to point out that Andrew wouldn't be able to give you that. He takes the line of least resistance. You'd walk all over him and hate him for it.' 'But you wouldn't let me.' His strength of mind seemed to match her own and she felt a sneaking admiration for it. 'No, I most certainly wouldn't.' He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. 'But before you start getting ideas. I'm not in the market for a women, and if I were you'd be well out of my league.' His smile was almost a grimace as it landed on the book. 'Next time you weave a spell, aim for a man who can give you the lifestyle you're accustomed too. This one can't afford expensive trinkets.' His description of her blew her mind. Who asked? What did money have to do with love anyway? Patrick suffered from inverted snobbery. Some devil in her made her rub it in. 'I could afford a trinket like you, Patrick.' Eyes loaded with mischief she ignored his frown. 'I could set you up in a pied-a-terre in Melbourne. In return you could escort me to social functions, and ... ?' Her eyes were dancing now. Take this you dishy blue-eyed monster! '... perform duties as required.' 'That's enough, Ellie!' How harsh his voice sounded. 'You're coming across as cheap.' 'Make up your mind.' Her eyes collided with his as she stood and faced him across the table. 'A minute ago I was classified as an expensive trinket. If you can't take the heat don't dish it out, Patrick.' 'I keep forgetting you believe in reciprocal arrangements.' Amusement flared in his eyes, as though he'd seen the humor in the situation. Even so, they remained challenging. She discovered why two seconds later. 'You're on. I accept your offer.' 'What?' Very funny, Patrick she silently fumed. I suppose you expect me to renege on it. Be damned if I will. It's you who can eat crow. 'What about Todd?' 'Where I go, Todd goes.' Knees feeling weak Ellie subsided back in a chair and stared dumbly at him. 'Of course .. if you don't want him?' Don't raise and eyebrow at me, you unprincipled rogue! His shoulders were shaking with laughter now, his chuckles coming one after the other. He could laugh on the other side of his face for all she cared. 'I'd love to have Todd.' Ellie raised a smile of her own when Patrick's laughter stopped. 'He can come to the child-minding center with me whilst you do the housework. He'll enjoy having other kids to play with.' Speculation narrowed Patrick's eyes, his voice was softly menacing. 'I guess he would at that. Right. You're on, Eloise. I have a couple of jobs lined up after this one, then I'll be all yours.' He was heading for the door when he turned and smiled. 'I'll let you know when I'm free.'

'Sure he would.' She grinned at the specious statement. Patrick had maneuvered himself into a corner, then deftly climbed through a crack. He'd be ninety-nine and confined to a wheelchair before he showed up. *** Ellie woke to rain pounding on the metal roof. Todd's bed was empty, and instinct told her she'd slept in. Her run-in with Patrick the night before had resulted in a rush of adrenaline. After he'd gone to bed she'd remembered the washing machine was still full of jeans, her dresses still soaking in the sink. The washing machine had been choked with paper, money, and bits of tissue from the pocket's she'd forgotten to empty. It had taken an hour to pick off each individual piece before hanging the pants on a rack in the kitchen to dry. Her Liz Davenport had turned out to be beyond hope, but she was still optimistic of saving the white dress. She'd spread the money and paper on the bench to dry, tidied up the kitchen, and gone to bed about three. Feeling decidedly lethargic, she was about to turn over and grab another forty winks when a knock at the door drove the foolish notion from her head. 'I thought it was time you were awake.' The man had an in-built radar system. It was a pity his thought hadn't coincided with her intention. He also had two steaming mugs on a tray. Ellie regarded him in a more kindly light. 'Todd said you're a grouch without two cups of tea to start the day.' He grinned as she struggled upright and silently held out her hand. 'You look as though you had a night on the tiles.' Ellie could only manage a grunt, but it implied her state was due to the fact of being chained to the washing machine on his behalf for half the night. Taking the mug he offered she swigged half its contents before she realized it had an odd taste. 'This taste's a bit funny. The milk's not off is it?' 'I shouldn't think so.' Patrick grinned as she took another tentative sip, his eyes intent on her. Her reviving taste buds selected the flavor of peppermint. Peppermint? 'You Dingo!' Her eyes shot green daggers at him. 'You've spiked it.' 'That's odd?' Patrick's hand closed around the cup before she could throw it at him. 'The potion seems to have had the opposite effect on you. You're still a grouch.' Setting the other mug on the bedside table he headed for the door. 'Try that one and let's call it quits. You're bewitching enough without the spells.' The second cup was pure unadulterated pleasure and her disposition improved in leaps and bounds as the caffeine made inroads into her bloodstream. Bewitching, Patrick had said. Leaping from the bed she slid into a pair of black velvet pants, topping them with a white lacy blouse and a matching black velvet waistcoat. She brushed her hair until the sparks flew, scurried it to the nape of her neck with a velvet ribbon, then added a touch of perfume to her pulses and headed into the kitchen. 'Sit.' Patrick placed a plate of bacon, eggs and tomatoes on the table. 'That's Ellie's,' he said as Todd moved his chair closer to her. 'She doesn't need your help.'

'Can I have some bacon as well, Patch?' 'You had corn-flakes. There isn't any bacon left.' Made the recipient of a hopeful smile, she exchanged an amused glance with Patrick. 'He can have some of this.' She cut a piece of toast in half and made Todd a sandwich. 'If you need any personal shopping give me a list after breakfast,' Patrick said. 'But not too long ... and nothing bulky.' 'You're going into town?' 'Of course not.' Gazing bleakly at the rain Patrick muttered. 'The creek's still impassable and likely to remain so. The forecast is for rain and more rain. I'm going to call a friend of mine. He'll deliver what we need.' 'How?' 'By helicopter.' Patrick turned and grinned at her. 'How did you think? He hasn't got the power to zap it over here in a shower of star-dust. However, if you'd like to have a go .?' Ellie met his sarcasm with a frosty look. 'I meant. How are you going to call him? The telephone's still out of action.' 'I'll use the CB.' She stared at him blankly. 'The citizen band radio in Vera's den.' 'I didn't know she had one.' 'She's had it for the past six months.' He hesitated slightly. 'It used to be mine. I had no room in the van for it so I gave it to her. It enables her to contact those who need her services and can't afford to pay.' 'You mean she consults over the radio?' Ellie couldn't imagine her aunt doing that. 'It wouldn't be very private with everyone listening in.' 'They use call signs.' He glanced at his watch. 'Don't be too long with your list. I want to start preparing the house for painting.' Patrick's attitude towards her seemed to have softened, and Ellie saw no reason why she shouldn't meet him half way. 'Can I help.' Ellie demolished the last of her breakfast before Todd did.' 'If you don't mind washing walls, sure.' His eyes swept critically over her outfit. 'You seem to be dressed more for a decorative effect than for work. Do you have anything old?' His inference that she was a useless, vain woman, annoyed her. 'One of my Paris originals will do. I think

I have a pair of sequined overalls somewhere.' Her sarcasm brought a frown to his face. He said nothing more, but his lips tightened ominously before he strode from the room. Ellie experienced a certain amount of embarrassment when she slid her list next to Patrick's elbow. It was one thing writing out a list, but to have her more intimate needs broadcast by a man to a stranger, was intimidating. A trickle of relief ran through her when she heard he was communicating with a woman. The woman's voice was accompanied by static as she reeled off the various items he wanted. Ellie blushed slightly as she slid her list next to his. 'Did you want to talk to Ace again?' 'No need.' Patrick picked up her list, glanced at it, then up at her. A faint grin hovered around his mouth. 'Morgana is here now, Bluebird. I'll give her a crash course, then she can tell you what she needs herself.' 'Morgana!' She gave him a dirty look as she slid into the chair he relinquished. He ignored it. 'Press that when you want to talk. When you've finished, say Morgana over and out. Got it?' 'Yes.' She placed a hand on his arm. 'What's your call sign?' 'Merlin.' 'Hah!' She rolled her eyes in disbelief. Patrick stayed long enough to see she was doing it right, then headed for the room. Pressed against her knee Todd watched every move, then scrambled on to her lap and grinned in expectation. 'Can I talk to bluebird please, Ellie.' She ruffled the dark thatch of his hair. 'I'll ask her.' After repeating her list back the woman asked. 'Did I hear my Godson in the background? Put him on for a couple of minutes.' 'Hello, Auntie Bluebird,' Todd shouted. 'Guess what? The truck got stuck in the creek ... and my bike's gone ... and guess what? Ellie crashed her car, then she fell in the mud and said lots of rude words ... then Patch kissed her, and - ' 'My, you do have an exciting time,' Bluebird cut in smoothly. 'Put Morgana back on now, chicken. I want to speak to her.' 'She's not Morgana, she's Ellie.' Ellie wondered what sort of jail sentence she'd get for plucking out a child's tongue. 'Could you add a large bag of gob-stoppers to the list,' she said darkly, faintly relieved that Patrick hadn't been listening. 'Will do. I'm sorry about that.' Bluebird sounded faintly amused. 'The gob-stoppers are on me. If there

anything else?' 'No, that's about all thank you, Bluebird.' Ellie could feel her face burning with embarrassment. 'Morgana, over and out.' Her glance fell on Todd. Pleased with himself, his face was glowing with excitement. The little wretch had no idea what he'd done, but Ellie couldn't be annoyed with him when he said. 'That was fun, Ellie.' 'Yes.' She grabbed him up and gave him a hug. 'We'll have a game of hide and seek after I've changed. Then I'm going to help your dad wash the walls.' 'And me,' Todd promptly said. 'Patch said I'm good at washing walls.' 'Why don't you call your father, dad, Todd?' Todd thought for a moment, then gave a passable imitation of Patrick's shrug. His face had a closed look to it and his voice dropped to a whisper. 'I had a mean dad once, so I call my real dad Patch.' 'I see.' Ellie didn't see at all, but she knew she'd been party to the child's confidence and wasn't going to press the point. Todd's words and his manner of telling her suggested some sort of trauma in his past. She wasn't about to remind him of it. Giving him a cuddle she lowered him to the floor. 'I'll race you to the kitchen. 'Ready - steady - g ... ' Todd was off and running before she could finish. Charging after his giggling form she caught up with him when he reached the kitchen door and they barged through it together. 'Ellie and I are going to have a game of hide and seek,' Todd shouted breathlessly at his father. 'Wanna play?' Patrick was doubled over the table, his shoulders heaving with laughter. 'I'd love to play but I've got to ... got to ... start work.' Ellie knew exactly what he was laughing at when his eyes met hers. 'Couldn't you murder the little pest,' he choked out. 'The radio picked up the whole thing.' 'You mean in was broadcast over the airwaves?' Horror came into her eyes. 'No,' he reassured her. 'Just this one.' 'What are you laughing at.' Todd climbed on Patrick's lap and peered up into his face. 'I talked to Auntie Bluebird and she'd going to send me some gob-stoppers.' Patrick's eyes were streaming with laughter when they met hers. 'Gob-stoppers,' he whispered. It was too much for Ellie. Laughter bubbled through her like champagne. Her stomach ached with it. Knowing she'd be unable to stop if she stayed with Patrick and Todd in the kitchen she raced through to the laundry, leaned against the sink and waited for it to subside.

Directly in her line of vision, a piece of dried paper from Patrick's pocket lay on the bench. The faded letterhead seemed vaguely familiar, and her fingers automatically reached out for it. It was from the auditor of her father's company. Suddenly sober, she scanned the printed words. Patrick had been ruined by her father's company! It had been her father's building's he'd been contracted to paint. Those buildings had been sold at a fraction of their worth to pay her father's debts. No wonder Patrick was bitter towards her. Up until now she hadn't given it much thought. Now the reason for his attitude was obvious. Patrick had lost everything he owned because of her father, and so had Todd. Crumpling the letter into a ball she stuffed it in her pocket. Pride was all he had left, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Forcing a smile to her lips she took a steadying breath and headed towards the sound of their laughter. Her smile softened. He did have something more than pride, something very precious. He and Todd shared the special kind of love she'd experienced with her own father. Suddenly Ellie felt very much alone, and very lonely.

CHAPTER FIVE Ellie's muscles were beginning to ache. Straightening up, she scowled at the wall she was in the middle of washing. Was it her imagination, or had it doubled in size since she'd started? 'Tired, already.' Patrick grinned down at her from his perch on a ladder. He'd nearly finished the top half of his third wall. Compared to her half a bottom, he'd set a cracking pace. 'I inherited the skirting board with all the dust,' she protested, glancing at the bucket of filthy water. 'You should have dusted if off before you started.' Giving the wall a final swipe with his sponge he slid down the ladder and joined her. 'If you'd done it properly in the first place you wouldn't have to keep changing the water.' 'Now you tell me.' 'I would have thought it was common sense.' Patrick threw a yellow duster at her, picked up her bucket and headed for the door. 'I'll get some clean water whilst you're doing that. If I can finish this room today, we can sleep in it when your bedroom and the sitting room are being painted.' He stopped and turned, grinned as he noticed her raised eyebrow. 'Respectively of course. The bed's a bit on the small side for three.' Ellie's glance fell on Todd. His interest in washing walls had evaporated marginally faster than hers had. She'd unearthed some crayons and paper. Now he was sprawled in the middle of her aunt's bed, his tongue actively imitating the lines of the crayon, and absorbed in his drawing. 'That's a nice house, Todd.' Taking his age into account she ignored the crooked walls and concentrated on the subject matter. There was a red car parked in the drive, a man and a child coming up the path,

and a women with yellow hair looking out of the window. A river ran past the house. Clearly visible in the water was the head of a person swimming. 'Who's that swimming?' 'He's drowning.' Picking up a blue crayon Todd slashed thick strokes over the swimmer, then pointed at the house. 'That's the house Patch and me are going to build. That's your car, and that's you.' He picked up the yellow and added a spider web of a sun in the corner. There was a wary vulnerability in the eyes turned her way. 'You can have it if you want.' 'Thank you, Todd.' Ellie experienced a strong urge to take Todd in her arms and protect him from harm as she gazed at the picture. The drowning man made her feel uneasy. Was it some trauma he'd experienced in the past. A lump rose in her throat and her voice choked with tears. 'It's the best present I've ever been given. Can you write your name on it?' 'I don't know how to write my name.' 'I'll show you, then you can practice it underneath.' Taking up a crayon she wrote his name on a piece of paper, sounding out the letters as she did so. Tongue protruding in concentration Todd followed suit. It didn't take him long to get the concept of it and he was spelling out the letters across the bottom of the drawing when Patrick returned. 'Look, Patch. I can write my name. Ellie showed me.' Patrick placed the bucket on the floor. 'So she did.' He sounded genuinely amazed as he turned to her. 'How did you get him to do that in such a short time? I've been trying to teach him for ages. Well done, Todd.' 'I expect you made the same mistake as most adults do. Small letters with a pencil?' At Patrick's nod she smiled. 'That sort of coordination doesn't come without practice. Thick crayons and large letters are controlled more easily to start with.' Picking up the drawing she experienced pride at Todd's successful effort. 'Doesn't he go to pre-school?' 'I never thought about it to be quite honest.' 'You should. Todd's bright.' Ellie glanced at the drawing and resolved to buy a frame for it. 'He would learn a lot and it would teach him to socialize with other children before he starts school.' She picked up the duster and took a half-hearted swipe at the skirting board. 'Besides ... isn't it a little risky to take a child to work with you?' 'It would be if I did.' Patrick's voice had turned chilly. 'As it happens, his grandmother looks after him when I'm working. At the moment she's not well.' 'I'm sorry.' 'I'll pass on your felicitations to her.' 'Must you be so prickly, Patrick.' Ellie sighed at the sarcasm in his voice. 'I was apologizing for jumping to the wrong conclusion - as well you know.' 'I know,' he growled. 'Your apology made me feel guilty so I reacted. It's me who should apologize.'

This was a refreshing turn-around. 'Are you sorry?' Patrick grinned suddenly but his voice had a grating edge to it. 'Didn't I say so? I doubt if your feelings are hurt, but if they are just say the word and I'll beg your forgiveness on bended knee.' 'Wait until I get my camera.' Ellie laughed as she scrambled to her feet. 'One ought to record great moments for posterity.' 'If having a man grovel at your feet is a great moment - forget it.' Patrick headed for the door. 'The last time I did that for a women was three years ago.' 'Wait!' Dashing after him, Ellie managed to grab his arm and detain him. 'Why did you have to grovel to a woman?' In the dim hallway Ellie couldn't see his expression, but she didn't need to. The rigidity of his forearm was designed to warn her off. She'd learned from her father that timidity would get a person nowhere. 'To get what you want from life takes persistence,' he'd said. 'Don't be afraid to step on a few toes, Eloise. Everyone has a weakness. If you find it you can work on it.' 'Why should that be of interest to you?' 'It might help me to understand Todd better.' She knew her shaft had hit the right spot when the breath expelled from his body in one frustrated rush. 'Why should you want to understand Todd?' 'Because of the man he mentioned.' 'What man?' His eyes became suddenly alert and his voice wary. 'Todd mentioned he had a mean father once, and this picture he drew ... ?' 'What about it?' 'There's a figure in the river. When I asked Todd about it he said the man was drowning. I wondered ... ?' 'Hell!' Taking her by the shoulders Patrick propelled her towards the kitchen. 'What else did you say to him about it?' 'I'm not a fool, Patrick.' Her glance followed his as he gazed out of the window. 'I've worked with disturbed kids for some time now.' 'You think Todd's disturbed?' The blue eyes were intense when he turned back to face her. 'I think he's experienced some sort of trauma.' Ellie picked her words carefully. 'Generally he's a happy little boy.' She reinforced her words with something more positive. 'From the way he idolizes you I should imagine you've worked hard to establish a positive relationship with him. You use reinforcement techniques that are standard text book practice. Where did you learn them?'

'From the same place you learned yours I should imagine.' He smiled when she gave a frustrated sigh. 'Are you always so curious, Eloise?' Patrick was more astute than she'd expected. The eyes that engaged hers displayed a hint of mockery that somehow diminished her. She'd only known Patrick and Todd for two days, what right did she have to pry into their lives? 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I wasn't being nosy. I just don't want to upset Todd by saying the wrong thing. That's all.' 'I wouldn't like that either.' A frown slid into the space reserved for it and hovered there. 'Todd's had a lot of counseling over the past two years.' Patrick seemed to be musing out loud. 'He responds to you, so perhaps it would be of benefit to tell you.' Taking the drawing from her hand he gazed down at it. A smile chased away his frown. 'I'll let his counselor take a look at this and act on her advice.' Swallowing her disappointment, Ellie managed a smile. She didn't blame Patrick for being cautious. If Todd were her child she'd act in exactly the same way. 'In the meantime ...' The frown settled back in place. 'I'd be grateful if you didn't ... encourage him to like you too much. A chill crept over her. 'What exactly are you saying - that I've deliberately set out to make Todd like me?' The whole idea was preposterous. 'Why would I want to manipulate him in that way?' 'That wasn't what I said.' He turned and gazed out of the window when the faint beat of a helicopter reached their ears. 'Todd may need to be reminded that you're not going to be a permanent fixture in his life.' It sounded as if he were reminding her of that fact. 'So you want me to keep him at arms length.' Ellie sent a stream of imaginary daggers into the broad back presented to her as her temper started to simmer. 'Aren't you being a little over-protective, Patrick. Todd won't learn to cope with his emotions if you keep him wrapped in cotton wool.' 'His mother abandoned him,' Patrick reminded her savagely. The face he turned her way was unforgiving. 'I don't want him to give his love to another woman and be cheated again. Is that clear?' It was perfectly clear to Ellie, but Patrick was so caught up in his own hurt that he'd obscured the picture in his own mind. 'What's clear is that you don't want to get involved with another woman. Admit it, Patrick. Todd's just an excuse.' Had she really said that? Yes, obviously she had. Apart from his frown becoming thunderous, little sparks of lightning flared in Patrick's eyes. A pulse leapt into life, and as his jaw tightened Ellie's heart began to beat like a drum. Louder and louder it became until her ears throbbed and her body seemed to vibrate with it. Deep in Patrick's eyes was a core of smoldering heat. Ellie wanted to close her eyes but she couldn't. Drawn into its center she was blinded by its intensity. Patrick was on a destruction course. Unless he controlled what was in him she'd become ashes in his eyes. The heat from his body seemed to reach out and surround her. Absorbed by the shifting

substance of it she experienced the turmoil of his pain and anguish, the power of his anger. Strangely enough she could recognize in him what she'd one been through herself, the moment when the realization of truth penetrated the psyche. Her words had been a catalyst. Although he might hate her at this moment, instinctively Ellie knew Patrick would eventually benefit. She felt part of him now, an odd empathy that was tautly stretched and not wholly comfortable. The tension between them relaxed so suddenly that Ellie felt like collapsing. 'Perhaps you're right.' Her heart sank at the coldness of his voice. 'An emotional involvement isn't on my agenda. My mother provides my son with a steady maternal influence, so his needs are met in that respect.' His glance went past her as the throbbing noise increased and a grin instantly lit his face. 'Get your raincoat, Todd. You can come and watched the helicopter land.' 'And, Ellie.' 'Patrick stung her with a look, his lips tightened in annoyance as he strode past her and took Todd's hand. 'Ellie hasn't finished washing the walls yet.' Ellie wasn't going to finish washing the walls until Ellie damned well felt like it! Nor was she going to be dismissed in such a fashion. She ignored Patrick's dirty look, shrugged into her coat and followed them out. *** For the rest of the morning Todd occupied himself with the play-dough Ellie had ordered from town for him. Patrick had moved on to the next room, leaving her to finish off the wall alone. She'd just finished when Todd came to remind her it was lunch time. Her offering of door-step sandwiches brought a raised eyebrow from Patrick. 'I hope you can rustle up something better for dinner. I won't have time to cook.' Opening the dresser drawer he threw a recipe book on the table. 'Try a simple casserole, there's some beef steak in the fridge. You should have time after you've washed down your bedroom walls.' Ellie hadn't counted on having to wash more than one wall and her expression reflected the fact. 'Of course ... if you're not up to it ... ?' 'Of course I'm up to it,' she snapped. Much to her satisfaction his smug expression disappeared. 'Don't overdo it, Ellie. You're not used to hard physical work.' She ignored his warning. All he wanted to do was prove his own superiority and rub her background in her face. She would clean the walls if it killed her, then afterwards, would cook a perfect meal. Cooking couldn't be too hard. If Patrick could do it then so could she. Her acidic tone caused him to sigh. 'Don't you worry about me, Patrick. I'm quite capable of looking after myself.' 'I'm lost in admiration.' The mocking smile he gave when she rose stiffly to her feet brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks. 'I always knew the dumb blonde stereotype was a myth.' She tried to think of an equally crushing rejoinder but failed miserably. Let him have the last word, she

thought, picking up the bucket and heading for her bedroom. He'd be forced to eat them later on. The bone-numbing tiredness her efforts brought was totally unexpected. Later, as she wearily chopped the meat into cubes, Ellie began to wish she hadn't been quite so pig-headed. Scruff was practicing his old pals act around her ankles. She dropped him a cube of raw meat and studied the recipe book again, double-checking the list against the ingredients she'd prepared and placed in the pot. Patrick had been right. It was a simple dish. All she had to do was put the meat in with the gravy and vegetables, stick it in the oven, then boil some potatoes to go with it. Distracted by Patrick's voice calling her she suddenly remembered the tea he'd requested earlier. She hurriedly filled the waiting teapot, added it to the tray she'd set and carried it through to her aunt's bedroom. The room had been transformed from a dingy cream to a delicate blue. 'That color's lovely.' 'It will be nicer still when the paint's dried.' Descending the ladder Patrick managed to whip up a smile. 'Did you really intend to paint the room red?' The smile lifted her spirits. She nodded as she advised herself. Flatter the beast. 'I thought it would match the poppies on the bedspread. I can see now that it would have been a mistake.' 'And green for the sitting room?' 'The carpet.' 'Claustrophobic.' An eyebrow raised and his voice became unbelieving. 'This I can't understand. Why dark blue for your bedroom?' 'The quilts are white. I thought the contrast would look good together.' 'It will turn it into a black hole. Dark colors make a room look smaller, light make them seem more spacious. Whenever you plan to redecorate, keep that in mind.' Patrick smiled again. 'The colors should flow from one room into the next. It creates harmony.' Which didn't say much for the colors he surrounded himself with, she thought. Anyone less harmonious she'd yet to meet. 'Why didn't Andrew tell me all of this when we planned it?' 'Andrew's an architect. He works from the office and acts as manager in my absence. I had to let the staff go when things got tough. Andrew hasn't got a clue about colors. He probably agreed with everything you suggested to be on the safe side.' A finger of guilt stabbed through Ellie. 'How many staff did you employ?' 'A permanent salesman come office manager, and two office staff. The rest were sub-contracted when needed.' He shrugged. 'If I can keep my head above water I should be able to build things up again. I'm waiting for the outcome of a tender. Andrew's offered to use his home as collateral should the need arise.' 'Andrew's not a partner then?' A lump formed in Ellie's throat at Patrick's negative reply. 'It must be nice to have a brother who supports you like that.'

'Andrew's a nice guy.' Picking up his cup Patrick gave her a steady look. 'But I guess you already know that.' Avoiding his eyes, she handed Todd some biscuits to go with his milk and turned towards the door 'I must go and get on with dinner.' 'How's it going?' 'I'm following a recipe to the letter, so it should be all right.' Ignoring his grin she slipped from the room. As soon as the casserole was in the oven and the potatoes peeled she intended to soak her aching body in the bath and make a new women of herself. *** Refreshed, Ellie smoothed body lotion into her skin before pulling on a comfortable gray track-suit. The delicious aroma of cooking heartened her as she headed for the kitchen. She put the potatoes an the boil, set the table, then opened a tin of cat food and filled Scruff's saucer. 'Kitty, kitty, kitty?' She spotted Scruff under a chair and clinked a spoon against the dish to coax him out. He opened one eye, then closed it and ignored her. 'Stay there you awkward mutt.' she muttered. 'You're too fat and lazy anyway.' Picking up the cook book she ran her eyes over the recipe again. Deep down lurked a little niggle of unease, as if she'd forgotten something. It was nerves, she told herself. Patrick was such a good cook, and she wanted everything to go right. If the smell emanating from the oven was anything to go by, she had. Every few minutes her glance went to the clock despite knowing she'd set the timer. Time seemed to drag by. Ten minutes before the casserole was due to be cooked Patrick stuck his head around the door. His nose twitched. 'Something smells nice. Will it be long?' Ellie glanced at the clock again. 'Nine and a half minutes.' Patrick's slow easy smile warmed her. 'There's a bottle on wine in the larder. I'll open it when I've tidied myself up.' He was really quite a guy when he put some effort into being nice,' Ellie thought, unable to stop herself returning it. She rose stiffly to her feet when he'd gone. Now the heat from her bath had worn off she was beginning to feel sore. She polished a couple a glasses then started counting off the seconds. Damn! She'd forgotten to warm the plates. Throwing them into the warming compartment she drained the potatoes, then jumped when the timer rang. 'Turn the oven off first,' she told herself, trying not to panic. 'Then mash the spuds.' Talking herself through it had a definite calming effect, and when Patrick and Todd arrived, the meal was on the table and ready to serve. Cooking was a cinch if one went about it in the right way, she realized.

There was nothing to it. Todd shattered her illusions with the first bite. 'May I have some meat please, Ellie?' Dismay in her eyes Ellie stared at the casserole. She wondered if she'd overcooked it. Did meat dissolve? Grabbing at the spoon she churned feverishly through the stew. 'It must have sank to the bottom,' she muttered. 'I was cutting it up just before ...?' She gave the cat a murderous look before gazing back at Patrick. '... just before I took your tea through. Scruff must have eaten it.' Ellie wanted to die. Anything to blot out the derisive expression in Patrick's eyes. 'Your cooking prowess seems to be on par with your witchcraft.' Leaning back in his chair Patrick managed to open the larder door and gaze inside. Ellie hoped the chair legs would snap off and send him crashing to the floor, but no such luck. Patrick reached inside, plucked a tin of corned beef from the shelf and came back to earth in one fluid motion. His eyes sought hers as he opened the tin, tipped the beef on to a plate and sliced it. 'Would you like some meat with your vegetables? If corned beef doesn't suit your palate I could probably find a couple of bats wings or a lizard's tongue.' Ellie's appetite suddenly fled. Wasn't it enough that she'd slaved over the walls - not to mention being chained to the damned stove? Was it her fault the cat was a reincarnation of Dickens thieving character, Fagin? Did she have to put up with Patrick's sarcasm when her body was one big ache and all she wanted to do was sleep for a month? No, she did not! 'It must be wonderful to be so perfect.' She'd meant to snap his head off but her voice came out in a crushed whisper. Tears? Disgusted with herself, Ellie tried not to groan as she eased herself from the chair, but didn't quite succeed. She felt as though she'd aged sixty years in five seconds. The frown that creased Patrick's brow when he looked at her was the last straw. Tears streaming down her face she shuffled towards the door. 'I can't do anything right for you,' she muttered. She hated displaying her martyrdom, but if Patrick felt one iota of guilt, it would be worth every suffering step. 'I'm going to bed.' Remembering Todd, she shuffled back and dropped a kiss on his head. 'I'm sorry there wasn't any meat, Todd. Tomorrow I'll be more careful.' 'Ellie?' Patrick rose to his feet. 'Are you all right?' 'No. You've made it perfectly clear that I'm all wrong.' Pain sprinted from her neck to her shoulders as she lifted her head to glare at him. She winced. There was something gratifying about the flicker of concern in Patrick's eyes. Instinct told her he wasn't quite as tough as he made out. Shamelessly she exploited her theory, murmuring weakly. 'Excuse me, Patrick. I ache all over.' 'You little fool.' Not quite what she'd hoped for, but the hint of tenderness in his voice was an improvement. 'Go and get in bed. I'll bring your dinner in on a tray.' 'Eat yours first.' She twisted the knife a little deeper. 'I know it's not very good, but it will taste worse

cold.' She'd overdone it. His eyes narrowed and a sardonic smile etched his lips. 'Sometimes, you're deadly, green-eyes.' 'Thanks.' Accepting his words as a compliment she moved slowly towards the door. 'Actually, I feel as deadly as a pig on a spit at the moment.' 'I'll do something about that later,' he whispered in her ear as she passed by him. 'Like what?' 'Like baste you in oil. It might soften you up.' His unexpected sense of the ridiculous touched a chord with her and she choked out a laugh. 'That's better.' He smiled as his finger gently traced the path of a tear down her face. 'I didn't expect tears from you. I suppose it's my fault.' She could have replied with an affirmative, but Ellie knew she'd be lying. Although Patrick constantly challenged her self-esteem she didn't have to try and prove herself to him. She'd been stupid to work herself to the point of exhaustion, stupid to blame the cat for ruining the dinner. 'I guess I'm suffering from an overdose of self-pity,' she admitted. 'I'm speechless.' Ellie could have done without the feigned amazement. 'That makes a change,' she muttered, then neatly shut the door in his face before he could answer. *** Ellie should have known Patrick meant to carry out exactly what he'd said he'd do. As a liberal amount of cold baby oil landed on the warmest part of her back, she buried her face in the pillow and cringed. 'Strip off and throw that over you,' he'd said, throwing her a towel. To give Patrick his due, he'd listened politely to her reasons for not doing so before dismissing them. 'If you don't let me ease those muscles you won't be able to walk for a week. I've got enough to do without looking after an invalid.' He'd turned his back and gazed at his watch. 'You have sixty seconds before I do it for you. If it's any consolation, I learned massage techniques when I coached the local junior football team.' She might just have well been the local junior football team by the impersonal way Patrick touched her body. His thumbs applied pressure to the knotted muscles until she yelped a protest.

'Relax,' he murmured. 'This bit will be over soon.' 'Relax? Hah! How could anyone relax when they were being tortured? Just about to utter a heart-wrenching groan, Ellie changed her mind. The probing had become a firm kneading motion that would have done justice to a lump of bread dough. At least it was bearable. Sensing the towel beginning to slip she lowered one of her arms and reached around for it. In defiance of his order she'd left her panties in place. There weren't much of a defense, but better than nothing. 'Don't wriggle.' He adjusted the towel before her hand could reach it and sighed. 'Stop fighting me, Eloise. There's nothing personal in this, believe me.' The exasperation in his voice made it clear he considered her a nuisance. As she twisted her head around in a effort to see his face she was attacked by a twinge of pain that shot into her shoulder. She gasped. 'Serves you right.' Patrick chuckled as she carefully moved it back to its former position. 'You hate not being in control, don't you?' 'Not really.' Her cool reply was muffled by a mouthful of feather pillow so she moved slightly. 'What I hate is you being in control of me.' 'Do you?' Ellie sensed he was grinning. 'I imagine you'd get used to it. You're surprisingly adaptable considering your up-bringing.' 'You know nothing about my up-bringing.' She sighed as his hands moved to the back of her neck. 'Vera told me you were brought up by your father.' Patrick's hands slid into the hollows of her shoulders. 'I should imagine he spoiled you.' Ellie's shoulders relaxed against his sensational hands. 'You couldn't be more wrong, Patrick.' She smiled as she thought of her father. 'He wanted me to grow up with as much independence as possible. He said ... he might not ...?' 'Might not what?' Patrick asked gently when her voice faltered. 'Might not always be there for me - and he wasn't.' 'I'm sorry. You must miss him.' Patrick could be so nice sometimes, Ellie thought dreamily. Despite his disastrous involvement with her father's company he sounded genuinely sympathetic. 'I'm glad he didn't live to see his company go into liquidation.' Ellie winced as Patrick's fingers dug into her flesh. 'He built it up from nothing.' 'He must have known it was in trouble.' 'The company outgrew his ability to manage it. My father was just a figure head for the two years preceding his death. David Lessingham was in control.' David must have known the company was going under, Ellie thought uneasily, then murmured. 'I can't understand why David didn't tell me the company was going broke.' 'Should he have?'

'I was ...?' Caution came into her voice. '... friendly with him.' 'The massage stopped. 'How friendly?' 'I thought ... ' She took a deep breath. 'I understood we would eventually marry.' 'Why didn't you?' 'My father died, the company folded, and David Lessingham ... went overseas.' 'He ditched you?' Patrick's thumb chased a line of shivers down her spine. 'He used you up, then he discarded you. Is that what you're saying?' 'If you want to put it that way.' His hand applied pressure to the middle of her back when she tried to sit up. 'I haven't finished yet, Eloise. Tell me about David Lessingham.' 'What else if there to tell?' 'Were you in love with him?' 'I thought I was at the time. I was straight out of school when I met him. It was the classic story. Young impressionable girl meets sophisticated glamorous older man. You know the rest.' 'Poor, Eloise. You must feel bitter about being used in that way.' 'Not any more.' Why should she? She'd learned a lot from the experience. 'I don't plan to live the rest of my life being negative about a failed love affair.' 'What plans do you have for the rest of your life?' Feeling totally relaxed now from the caressing hands Ellie smiled. 'I'm going to get married and raise a family,' 'You'll have to learn to cook,' he observed with a chuckle. 'A family needs to eat.' 'Stop being difficult, Patch Morgan.' She'd forgotten to tell him that her legs didn't ache. Her calf muscles seemed to melt away, then her thighs, then her buttocks. Sensational - hands gliding over warm dunes of oiled silk. She'd become weightless. 'Mmmm ... that's nice.' The long fingers spanning her waist, the thumbs inching up her spine ... were almost erotic. 'The man I marry will overlook my faults. He'll be perfect.' 'There's no such creature.' Definitely erotic. What would Patrick do if she encouraged a more personal massage. Smack the almost bare behind he'd stroked so deliciously a few seconds earlier? Her eyes flew open. The towel must have slipped off for him to have done that! Knocking his hands aside, she grabbed the edge of the quilt and rolled over, taking it with her. Wrapped

in the quilt like a fat sausage she accused. 'Why didn't you tell me the towel had slipped?' 'You looked better without it.' It was hard to convince herself she was angry when his damned male logic was a compliment. The laughter in his eyes drew a responding grin from her. 'Sweet dreams, Eloise,' he murmured. He leaned over and robbed her body of its breath in one long kiss. 'Have a good night's sleep.' Sleep? How could she sleep when every demolished inch of her craved fulfillment? He'd skillfully brought her to the boil then turned off the heat. Her body had fragmented into marshmallow pieces, each one flavored with different desires. She'd never sleep again, just drift in the heaven his wonderful hands had created for her and imagine ...? Imagine he was Andrew? There was only one problem. Try as she might, Ellie couldn't recall Andrew's face.

CHAPTER SIX For every action there was a reaction. Ellie scowled at the rain teeming down the window. If she hadn't messed with the spell-book it wouldn't have rained, and she wouldn't be spending her holiday pandering to a misogynist with a hair-trigger temper. The rapport that seemed to exist between them when they'd shared the intimacy of the massage had evaporated the next morning. It was as if he'd revealed some softer part of his nature, regretted the lapse, and had decided to establish some distance between them. Turning to the cooker she lifted the lid of the pan, stabbed moodily at the potatoes with a fork and muttered. 'I just hope you like shepherd's pie, Patch Morgan.' She carried the pan to the sink and upended its contents into a colander to drain. 'Come to that, I hope it turns out to be shepherd's pie. You'll probably inform me I should have used real shepherds instead of lamb mince.' Over the past few days Patrick hadn't let one meal go by without making some sort of disparaging comment. The previous day he'd told her if she didn't have a spell to take the lumps from the gravy she could always try straining it. The day before that the carrots had only been fit for donkeys. He'd eaten them anyway, she thought with a grin. This morning the toast had got stuck in the toaster and had caused a minor fire when her back was turned. 'Even a sorcerer can manage toast,' he'd muttered, his eyes blistering her. 'One flick of the fingers and hocus-pocus!' His fingers had snapped under her nose, making her jump and he'd grinned. 'Try that, Ellie. It just might work.' If wish-fulfillment actually worked, he'd now be wearing a slimy wart-covered frog skin instead of his ravishing muscles. Vigorously applying the masher to the potatoes she whipped them into a fluffy mountain, then grinned to herself as she spread them over the mince. Michelangelo couldn't have formed a better likeness of

Patrick on top. She'd try anything to extract a microcosm of humility from her adversary. Placing the dish in the oven she glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't around, then snapped her fingers at it. 'Hocus-pocus!' At first she thought that the bright flash that filled the kitchen was the oven blowing up. Then an ominous rumble of thunder tumbled overhead. It was coincidence, she thought, trying not to panic as she gazed uneasily at Scruff for reassurance. No help was forthcoming from him. Scruff's fur ridged along his back, he gave her a yellow baleful stare, then squeezed himself under the dresser for safety. 'Very funny.' A second flash of lightning set Ellie's heart on overdrive. The terrifying thunderclap that accompanied it brought a panicky gasp to her lips. Then the electricity flickered rapidly on and off before failing altogether and plunging her into darkness. She considered joining Scruff under the dresser. Why was she panicking? Thunderstorms didn't usually have this effect on her. Thoroughly rattled she groped her way towards the door, then yelped as the lightning illuminated a devilish figure in the doorway. Without giving a second thought she lashed out at it. There was a grunt as her fist connected with something hard, or was it a growl? Then she was pinioned in its arms. 'Take it easy, Ellie.' Patrick's voice was so reassuringly normal that she slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his jumper with relief. 'You scared me. I thought you were something spooky.' 'Did you now?' His hand crept under her hair and cradled her against him. A rumble of laughter purred in his chest. 'You haven't been cooking up spells again, have you?' 'Shut up, Patch Morgan.' He'd voiced her subconscious fear and she felt like the biggest of fools. 'Of course not,' she lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. 'I thought the oven had blown up, and ... ?' She giggled as her brain scrambled. 'Something spooky had escaped?' He laughed again, deliciously against her ear. 'That I can believe.' 'Stop putting a jinx on my cooking,' she warned. 'One of these days you are going to beg me for a second helping.' 'If we stay in this position I'm going to be begging for a first helping,' he growled. 'Any thoughts I have of continuing my celibate life evaporate when you're around.' 'You've been celibate since your relationship broke up?' Astonished, she lifted her face to the shadowy outline of his head. 'Completely.' 'Mind and body.' He pushed her to arms length and held her there. No wonder he was bad-tempered. 'How long?'

'Over three years.' He must have loved Todd's mother and awful lot. 'What happened, Patrick?' His pain crossed the gap between them in one big wave. 'The relationship started going wrong before Todd was born. Her parent's didn't think I was good enough for her. When my business went under and the money ran out she decided they were right.' For a moment his fingers dug cruelly into her shoulders. 'Sometimes you remind me of her.' A cold shudder went through her. 'I look like her?' 'No.' The ragged breath he dragged in was drowned by another roll of thunder. Ellie's reflexes twitched, but she managed to resist the urge to jump. 'It's just the way you are. She was fire on the outside and ice on the inside. She promised everything and gave nothing.' 'I'm not like that,' she protested. 'You're making an unfair comparison.' 'You've got it wrong, Ellie. You're the other way around. Ice outside - fire inside. If you set your mind on something you go after it with chilling persistence.' 'And you think I've set my mind on you?' She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was ludicrous. It was his brother she was after. Was it? She hadn't thought of Andrew for days. With Patrick around everyone else went out of her head. Had he picked that up? Was he scared of becoming involved with her? 'Whether you realize it or not you're sending out signals. I'm not willing to take a risk.' His arms dropped from her shoulders. 'I don't want to hurt you, Ellie.' 'It's yourself you don't want to hurt.' The knowledge of Patrick's unwitting admission was dangerously exhilarating. 'I didn't pick you for a coward.' 'And I didn't pick you for a fool.' Lightning chose that moment to illuminate them both. The strangely glittering eyes she encountered both repelled and attracted her. 'If it's punishment you want perhaps I can satisfy that need.' His hand snaked out, twisted through her hair and applied pressure until her face turned up to meet his. 'Spell it out, Eloise,' he whispered. 'If you want to be my lover start acting like one. If you don't ... say so, right now.' A thrill of excitement surged through her when she realized she was actually toying with a idea. She'd also been without a partner since David had gone. A sexual relationship with Patrick would border on the edge of unreality. Like the rain after a drought, they would both be relentless until they were satiated. What then? Patrick could offer her nothing more. That's what he'd been trying to get through to her. He wanted nothing more. He'd loved once, now his heart was as cold and gray as yesterday's ashes. She'd survived her brush with love. Perhaps she hadn't loved deeply enough for her heart to die with it. Perhaps she was incapable of loving someone so utterly and completely that she could surrender her all to make that person happy. Patrick had warned her that he'd hurt her. Physically they attracted each other. It was there with every

glance, a fine thread of tension that stretched between them. Every parry and thrust added to it, every touch. She knew what havoc his hands in her hair could cause. They would bring to life every pulse in her body, satisfy her cravings until they became a drug she needed. She in turn would satisfy his, find ways of making him want her until every physical aspect of love-making had been exhausted. What then? Patrick seemed in capable of any emotion but anger towards women. Yet he cared enough to warn her. Perhaps there was a spark of love still smoldering in him and yesterday's ashes could become tomorrow's fire. She frowned, uncertain. Either he was lying to himself or he was frightened of becoming emotionally involved. Whichever it was, an affair would only reinforce his belief in himself. There was no way she was going to exploit that. He'd end up hating her, and she him. 'No.' Her voice was as gentle and regretful as a sigh. 'I'm not a masochist, Patch. I have other plans for my life.' 'Marriage and motherhood.' A kiss fluttered across her eyelids before he let her go. 'I envy the man you choose, Eloise. Good hunting.' She felt like crying. It might be you, Patch Morgan. She'd groped her way back into the kitchen when the unlikely thought insinuated itself into her mind. It took root there as she searched through the dresser for candles. Good hunting? The nuance of those words indicated a challenge. Was Patrick that devious? She gazed at him sharply when the candle spluttered into life, and surprised an enigmatic smile on his lips. It was gone in an instant as his eyes caught hers. She sucked in her breath. Yes, he was that devious, but to what end. Did he need convincing he was worth something? 'What culinary delight do you have in store for us tonight?' A fleeting thought crossed her mind when he curled a grin at her. She could easily fall in love with this man if she tried. His temper was mostly bluff, she could handle that. If she could win his heart he would be completely faithful, like he'd been to a memory. There was nothing complicated about Patrick. A home, a loving partner, and a good mother for his children would make him whole. She could supply that. She returned his grin. 'Hocus-pocus pie?' she said. 'What's octopus pie like?' Todd advanced into the kitchen behind a beam of a torch. 'Has it got crunchy black bits on like last night?' 'And smoke curling out of the top like a volcano?' 'Neither of those things.' Her attempt to sound casual as she checked her dish fell flat. She choked out an incredulous laugh. 'Would somebody pass the matches please. I forgot to light the oven.' *** 'Another glass of wine?'

Basking in the glow of Patrick's approval, Ellie held out her glass. She still couldn't believe that dinner had turned out so well. Todd was sound asleep, the storm was over and the wine making her mellow. There was nothing like a roaring log fire, a glass of wine and the companionship of a dishy male on a cold winter evening. Did it matter if that male was determined to remain indifferent to her? When the subject matter became general rather than personal, Patrick turned out to be a good conversationalist with an off-beat sense of humor. They'd moved into the sitting room. The smell of the freshly applied ivory paint still lingered. The colour was exactly right for this room. The moss colored carpet stretched towards the French windows like lawn, made the leafy courtyard outside an extension of it. When the Marguerite daisies and lavender bloomed in the summer they would match the print of the chair covers. There was a peaceful harmony of design in the decoration that Ellie wouldn't have expected from a turbulant-natured man like Patrick. 'I like what you've done to this room.' She still couldn't understand why he'd undertaken the job at his own expense. What favor did he owe Aunt Vera? 'Thanks.' His wine glass flickered with dancing amber light as he turned towards her. 'Have you known Aunt Vera long?' 'Quite a while.' How long was quite a while? She would have liked him to be more specific, but didn't push it. Was there a connection with Todd's mother leaving? 'I'm surprised we haven't met before.' 'I'm not.' Patrick's jaw tightened. 'I've deliberately avoided you.' Choking on a mouthful of wine Ellie spluttered in astonishment. 'Why should you do that?' 'Because with your background, I knew we wouldn't hit it off.' Trust him to spoil the mood of the evening. Ellie shot to her feet and glared at him. 'That's not a reason, it's prejudice, and it stinks. It's not my fault you lost your money when my father's firm went under. I didn't have anything to do with his business.' 'Who told you I was involved with him?' The crack of his tongue stilled her angry voice. 'Not even Vera knew that?' He was on his feet in an instant, towering over her, his eyes demanding an answer. She wanted to move away from the angry energy that crackled between them, but didn't. It was obvious that Patrick used his anger to get his own way, and she wouldn't be intimidated by him. 'That's my business.' 'For someone who had no part in her father's business you seem to know a hell of a lot. What else did that yuppie lover of yours tell you?' How had David Lessingham suddenly got into the picture? She gave an unbelieving grimace. David wouldn't have given the smaller creditors a second thought, let alone discuss business with her. He'd said he didn't believe in mixing business and pleasure. He'd lied of course. She'd come under both headings. His smile took on a sadistic edge. 'I've underestimated you, Eloise. That sob story you fed me was all

lies, wasn't it?' 'If you say so.' 'What's the score? Did he salt some money away in a Swiss bank account for you both. Is he waiting for you to join him after the dust has settled?' 'How clever of you to figure it all out.' Her cold sarcasm surprised her when every instinct urged her to shout a protest of furious denial. He was accusing her of a crime. Not only that. He'd appointed himself judge and jury, then pronounced her guilty. How dared he!' 'That's exactly what happened, of course. I'm the master-mind behind the whole thing.' Shut up, Ellie, an inner voice cautioned. She ignored it. 'David's waiting for me in Switzerland. We're going to buy a huge mansion to live in and raise yuppie babies.' Shut up, Ellie, for God's sake. You're losing it. 'And what's more we're doing it with money we embezzled from my father and Patrick bloody-minded Morgan.' She shuddered. 'I suppose you think my father found out, that it caused the heart attack that killed him?' Her face was wet. Damn it, she hadn't meant to indulge in the weakness of tears! 'No wonder you deliberately avoided meeting me.' 'Stop it, Ellie.' Roughly pulled into Patrick's arms she discovered she was depleted of energy. 'You fight dirty.' 'Not as dirty as you.' How could she even consider falling in love with this man. she loathed everything about him, except ...? His wonderful muscular body, the scent of him in her nostrils, the deep deep blue of his eyes, his warm honeyed voice and his son. 'I found a letter in the washing machine from the auditor,' she murmured, feeling the need to explain. 'I wouldn't have read it if I hadn't recognized the heading.' A sigh shivered along her scalp. 'I guess I owe you an apology.' Did he have to sound so reluctant? 'And an explanation. Why didn't you want to meet me?' 'Ah, yes.' His lips explored her hair. 'I'd prefer not to give you one.' Aggravating creature! Her eyes narrowed. 'I could take a stab at it.' 'You jumped to the wrong conclusion last time,' he reminded her, trying to hide his grin. 'So what's new.' She slanted her head to one side. 'It's something to do with Aunt Vera, isn't it?' The slight start of surprise was all the encouragement she needed. 'I would guess she's been trying her hand at match-making.' 'Something like that.' The sardonic mask was back. The flickering firelight emphasized the planes of his face, high-lighting the taut cheekbones and bringing them into sharp relief. He looked as if carved out of stone. 'If you thought me repulsive enough to avoid, why did you come up here?' 'I didn't know you were here until I saw the house lit up. Both Andrew and Vera conveniently forgot to tell me.'

So that's why you were so mean?' A laugh tore from her throat. 'Vera only mentioned you to me twice, and that was with reference to your temper. "If you ever run into Patrick Morgan watch out for his temper,"' she said, raising a smile from Patrick when she imitated her aunt's voice to perfection. 'She was right.' 'She was right about you, too.' 'Why, what did she say about me?' 'I doubt if I'll ever be in the position to need to tell you.' He shifted away from her. 'It's getting late, Ellie. I want to make an early start of the kitchen tomorrow.' He was as transparent as glass at that moment. 'You don't have to panic, Patrick.' Laughter lilted her voice. 'Aunt Vera did my star chart recently. It predicted a Libran would play a major part in my future. Besides ... if I want to know what she told you about me, I only need ask her.' Patrick looked decidedly uncomfortable. 'There are other Librans beside my brother, Ellie.' He changed tactics beautifully. What he didn't know, and what she wasn't going to tell him, was that Andrew was out of the picture as far as she was concerned. The smile she gave him was whipped cream. 'You've got to agree that your brother is a good catch.' 'Is that how you see him?' The lid blew of his temper so suddenly that she took a step back to avoid the blast. 'A predator like you would eat him alive.' Predator? There was something magnificently feral about the word. Her eyes narrowed as she imagined herself springing at him. A growl gathered momentum but remained in her throat. It wouldn't do to incite Patrick to violence. 'I'll find a way to stop you, Ellie.' Quite suddenly his hand landed on her rump, propelled her towards the door. 'Get out of here before I lose my temper.' Her sense of the ridiculous was heightened by his superfluous threat. Laughter bubbled up in her, then overflowed. She threw herself in the nearest chair and buried her head in a cushion to muffle her chuckles. His hand tentatively touched her shoulder. 'Stop crying, Ellie. I hate it when you cry.' His fierce voice contrasted oddly with the gentleness of his touch. A lump formed in her throat. Under that tough facade beat an unexpectedly soft heart. Laughter fading, she gazed up at him with tenderness. 'I wasn't crying.' The eyes that studied her were shadowed, but Ellie experienced their contempt as she gazed at his outline. Time stood still. Yet quite clearly, she heard the carriage clock tick away the seconds. Senses heightened by an all-pervading tension, she experienced sounds separate from reality. The wind uttered a thousand sighs as it cajoled the lemon verbena to brush against the window. The crushed leaves would release a piquant perfume that quivered the nostrils. She could almost smell it.

Patrick's breath was a harsh ragged sound, like a wounded animal recovering from pain. Her own breath was softer, her heart a rapid staccato of sound. Everything was out of tune, the night music lacking harmony. Her hand crept to his. The resistance she'd expected to find wasn't there. Instead, he turned her hand upwards and flicked his tongue over the palm. The unexpected assault caused her fingers to curve inward, allowing his tongue to slide into the soft hollow at the join of her thumb. A sensual shock rioted up her arm into her breast. It made her gasp. His body blocked out the firelight as he leaned forward and roughly captured her mouth. It was the first time she'd been kissed in such a punishing manner. His mouth was hard and bruising. It crushed the half-hearted protest she'd been about to make. His tongue flicked a command at her lips. She tried to twist away but he anticipated it. His hand grasped her hair, kept her there until she weakened. The destructive tongue wreaked havoc with any intention of resistance. It filled her with its demands, acknowledged her own, made her aware that her sensuality equaled his. When he'd finished demolishing her mouth he slowly drew her to her feet. 'You have one chance to leave.' His huskily spoken ultimatum was no ultimatum at all whilst him thumbs brushed her nipples into inviting buds. She couldn't have left if she'd wanted to. His hunger bound her to him with invisible chains. His anger had become a controlled passion that both threatened and thrilled her. 'Well, Eloise?' Her answer came in the form of a kiss. Soft at first against his unresisting lips, then she succumbed to the temptation to take his bottom lip between her teeth. A soft oath left his mouth and his hands involuntarily jerked the silky fabric of her blouse apart. Ellie winced at the destruction of such a beautiful garment. Before the buttons had finished scattering his mouth was intent on one pulsating breast, his fingers seeking the fastening of the white lacy cups that imprisoned them, and the vandalism faded from her mind. 'Don't touch me,' he whispered, grasping her fingers as they moved towards the dark head. He pushed them down to her side. 'It's arousing enough just to strip the expensive wrapping from you.' Urged by the hands that slid to her shoulders, the blouse whispered to the floor. It was followed by her bra. Ellie quivered as her breasts were cupped, tilted towards his teasing kisses. Closing her eyes she savored the exquisite torture his tongue provided. Her breasts seemed alien to her, each one a world of pleasure separate from the other, each one heavy against he confines of its skin. They competed for the moist warmth his lips offered. Instinct arched her against him. 'Keep still,' he growled. The ramifications of the command excited her. She'd never considered passivity a part of love-making. Could she control her need to touch, to experience pleasure by taking instead of giving? Already her knees were trembling, her hands curved with the tension of her desire. She told herself she could if that's

what he wanted. Deep inside her was a wish to please him, to release the pent-up anger that was destroying him. If that meant standing still, she'd stand until she took root in the carpet. The frustrated sigh that left her lips must have brought his face up to search hers, for the dewy warmth of her breasts were touched by coolness. 'Open your eyes.' Patrick's voice had a ragged quality that tore her up inside. She found herself staring at him, and knew her eyes mirrored the knowledge of her desirability to him. Her sense of power was absolute. Through his need to possess she would become the possessor. The softness of her flesh would yield to his strength and she'd take that strength from him. Her lips curved in a secretive smile as she reached out and traced the planes of his face with the softest of touches. She wished the fire wasn't behind him so she could see the desire in his eyes. She delighted in the thought that he could see her. Her body was slim, and although not overly endowed by nature, curvy enough to make a statement that was all female. He nearly turned his face to the caress of her hand, but resisted it, instead, taking her hands into his. 'I told you not to touch.' He sighed as he covered her hands with kisses. 'You're everything a man could desire - everything. But I want you to go before it's too late.' He sounded reluctant, as if aware what was occurring between them had become more that he'd intended. 'It's already too late.' She held her breath, knowing if he thought of the past, the moment would be ruined. His lips brushed against the ring she was wearing and he took a sharp intake of breath. Stillness came over him. Deliberately he drew it from her finger and threw it into the corner of the room. The protest she gave was cut off by the savagery of his kiss. Senses spinning she was drawn into the dark turmoil of his anger. Vaguely she felt his fingers at her waist, a slither of material against her thighs, then coolness. He took a step back, and she felt the his glance rake her body. Then a finger hooked in the elastic edging of her briefs. 'You didn't buy these in a chain store.' It was obvious Patrick didn't frequent the lingerie department of chain stores. What was just as obvious was that he was going to tear them from her body. She tensed when the material stretched, knowing they were stronger than they looked. He'd been testing it, and reached the same conclusion. He slid to his knees and kissed the spot immediately above the elastic. The kiss edged lower as he slid the panties over her hips. He paused before he reached the object of his desire, allowed her to step from the silken garment binding her ankles. He relaxed back on his haunches and his eyes moved sleepily over her nakedness before he threw her a sardonic grin. 'You're perfection.' 'Patrick -' 'Don't say another word.' His voice was curt as he uncoiled to his feet, his fingers busy with the buttons

of his shirt. He undressed quickly, his pants following his shirt to the floor, his black briefs kicked aside. 'Nudity is a great leveler, Eloise.' The class barrier no longer applies.' She shivered as his hand reached out and stroked her body. 'Your flesh is the same as mine, only softer, more giving. It was designed for a man to take his pleasure of.' Taking one of her hands he guided it to him. 'This is what is does to me, Eloise. This is what you do to me. No one has affected me this way since her.' She would have closed her hand around him in a caress but he prevented her by moving away. 'Let's get comfortable,' he muttered, pulling the settee into the sleeping position. He turned and gazed at her, his face burnished by firelight. 'Come here, Eloise.' Ellie's limbs suddenly refused to move and she stared into his anger-flecked eyes for what seemed an aeon. Something inside her reached out for something in him, but all she found was emptiness. His eyelids hooded, his hand reached out and she was jerked on to the bed. A tiny squeal of fear left her lips. He smiled as he straddled her. 'Don't be scared green-eyes. I won't damage that pretty little body of yours.' 'I'm not ... ready for this ... not like this,' she pleaded, feeling the hardness of his against her stomach. 'I'm not a fool.' His mouth gently feathered hers with kisses. 'I'm going to drive you out of your mind first, and then ...?' He smiled slightly. 'When that happens you'll be ready for anything. If you want out, say so.' Patrick was as good as his word. It started as a journey of discovery. His hands and lips gently touched, explored, aroused in her a symphony of emotion. She'd never felt so languorous, so erotic, so rapturously awake to herself. He'd started with the palms of her hands, still lying above her head where he'd left them. Gradually he'd teased his way down her body, and when she'd tried to touch him had taken the soft skin of her inner thigh between his teeth and warned. 'Be still.' How could she be still when every inch of her was on fire? She wanted to express her love, not be his play-thing. She gritted her teeth and tried not to groan when he brushed his hand against her, claimed his right to invade her. Her buttocks tightened as she fought the urge to move against his hand. Then her thighs were parted, warm breath touched the soft center and she experienced intimate caressing little flicks. It was just enough to make her insides contract and release a rush of pent-up tension in one little gasp of pleasure. Her disappointment when he moved was intense, but as she groaned in frustration he rolled her over on her front and knelt between her legs. His hands lazily massaged her back and buttocks until she was so relaxed she seemed to melt into the mattress. Then his hands moved under her and instinctively she rose to accommodate him. Excitement began to build up in her as she began to invite his caress. First her breasts, her stomach, then ... ? All of her seemed to explode when his arms cradled her hips and his fingers splayed between her thighs. His mouth caressed the sensitive hollow where her neck joined her shoulder. 'Tell me you don't want me, Eloise,' he whispered in her ear. 'Give me an excuse to let you escape.'

'Mmmm ... ' She was tempted to move against him as her excitement built. Not want him? She was nearly driven out of her mind with desire. The anticipation of his next move was so strong that the instant his fingers began their tentative exploration she gave a long gasping sigh. Passion shuddered through her. 'Now,' she begged. Still he teased. Lifting her cradled hips against him he rocked gently against the moist invitation of her. She strained against the firm hands, her breath panting with the effort of trying to reach him. Just as she thought she might die from wanting she managed to circle his hips with her legs and anchor him to her. She'd never made love like this before. Patrick was in total control, she helpless. Every erotic particle was condensed into one pulsating spot, every muscle begged the slow even stroke to quicken. Then she simply ceased to function. Each thrust became a deliberate punishment as he drove deeper and deeper, and his anger grew as his control weakened. She felt herself contract with wild longings as he quickened, her head tilted upwards and a quiet ecstatic groan left her lips. It acted as a catalyst. Perspiration slicked her body as an orgasmic flood of feeling swept through her, making her cry out. She tightened her legs round him, kept him inside as his control was swept away in pounding race that only he could win. She started to tremble as an oath left his lips and they collapsed together on to the bed. A series of shudders racked his body, then he rolled from her body, gathered her against him and buried his face in her hair. Her hand went to his hair, caressed it as the wild beating of their combined hearts slowed, as the harsh rioting breath calmed. It seemed strange to her now, that they'd made love without her once being given the chance to touch him, to hold him in her arms. 'Why, Patch?' she whispered. 'Why like that?' His body stiffened, then he rolled away from her, propped himself up on one elbow and gazed thoughtfully down at her. 'Are you telling me you didn't enjoy every moment?' 'He knew she wasn't and her face began to burn. 'I wanted to be part of it.' 'You were.' He smiled as his finger reached out and stroked one nipple into life. 'You're a sensational creature, Ellie. My brother will never know what he's missed out on.' The cry of rage she wanted to expel seized in her throat. He'd used her for one purpose only, and in such a way that she'd know she'd been used. 'You're loathsome, Patrick,' she managed to whisper as she scrambled to her feet and gathered her clothes together. She could feel his eyes on her as she made some semblance of dressing. She ignored him, her eyes searching the tension-filled perimeters of the room. Finally she was forced to ask. 'Where did you throw my ring?' 'I'll find it in the morning if it means that much to you.' He gave a mirthless chuckle. 'Next time you come to my bed don't insult me by wearing another man's ring.' 'There won't be a next time.' Crossing to the settee she gazed down at his relaxed naked figure. How could anyone so perfect to look at be so callous as to deliberately humiliate her in such a manner? Her

smile contained all the contempt she felt for him. 'I'll see you in hell before I make myself the object of your scorn for another woman again.' Tension tightened the angles of his face and his eyes widened. 'As for the ring, yes, it means a lot to me. It belonged to my mother. It was her engagement ring.' Struggling upright, shock came into his eyes. 'Ellie -' 'Don't say another word.' Turning her back on him she headed for the door, hoping he hadn't noticed the tears choking her voice. 'I deserved everything you dished out. I was a fool to imagine ... ' A sob nearly strangled her as she closed the door on her words. '... that you were capable of loving me in return.

CHAPTER SEVEN Unless she could manufacture an instant case of measles Ellie knew she'd have to eventually emerge from her room. 'Not a chance.' She gave her reflection an appraising glance. 'You haven't even got a freckle or two to boast about.' She'd discovered a dozen reasons for staying in her room rather than face Patrick. Her nails needed a manicure, her chest of drawers tidying. The beds were messy enough to warrant a meticulous making and re-making, and now looked uncomfortably neat. She'd arranged her hair several times, and had tried on different outfits before settling on ribbed woolen ski pants and a thigh-length sweater in the same flaming red as her nail polish. 'Your tongue's hanging out for a cup of tea,' she reminded herself now she'd run out of excuses. 'Besides which, you're wearing your battle colour. A Ram in red is a force to be reckoned with. That Scorpion male had better watch out.' Sucking in a deep breath she marched towards the kitchen, an image of Patrick as an insect with her crushing him underfoot occupying her mind. It was almost an anti-climax to discover the kitchen empty except for the cat. Damn - she'd psyched herself up for nothing, he wasn't even out of bed! He must had spent the night tossing and turning, as she had. A smile stretched her lips as she plotted the scene. Patrick was wracked with guilt over the way he'd treated her, couldn't face her. He'd fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness, tell her his passion had turned him into a raging beast. He adored her, would spend the rest of his life making it up to her if only she'd become his wife. She in her turn would laugh in his face, spurn him ... ? The notion of revenge was replaced by a more pressing need and she reached for the kettle. Her revenge could wait until after her cup of tea and after he'd admitted the error of his ways. Dream on Ellie,' she thought, her flight of fancy coming to an abrupt end. That could take several

decades. It wasn't until she'd seated herself at he table that she saw the diamond ring and the six tiny silk-covered buttons. Her face suffused with colour as her body taunted her with the fact she'd been his love-slave, not the other way round. A folded piece of paper addressed in thick black upright letters was propped against the sugar bowl. Eloise. The writing resembled saber-slashes. It was almost alive with power, ready to rise from the page and cut her into pieces. The avenging angel strikes again! She managed a wry grin. The devil himself would quake in his boots at the thought of meeting Patrick. Her hand shook as she cautiously flipped the note open, and she cursed her vivid imagination. What was she expecting, sparks - a curl of smoke? It was disappointingly domestic. All it contained was a terse message to say he'd gone to the creek, would start on the kitchen after lunch, and the electricity was now back to normal. She picked up the ring and examined the brilliant stone for signs of damage before sliding it back on her finger. There was none. It was still as flawless as the day it had been placed on her mother's finger. Her father's marriage proposal had been made over a candle-lit dinner. Her mother had been wearing a white chiffon dress and had flowers in her hair. Her mother had been twenty years old, her father thirty. When her father had described the scene he'd smiled. 'She knew I'd be lonely without her so she gave me a very special gift when she left.' The ring had been a token of her father's undying love. He'd never married again, and if there had been women in his life Ellie had never known about them. Tears pricked her eyes. Tearing the ring from her finger she hurried to her bedroom and placed it carefully in its faded green velvet box. She now felt unworthy of the sentiment attached to it. For a few seconds she gazed out of the window before the fact registered that the rain had stopped. Not only that, the sun was shining and the birds singing. No, it wasn't the birds, it was the telephone ringing. The telephone! Coming out of her reverie she headed for the kitchen at a run. Thing were looking up. 'Anne?' Her house-mate. Things were looking up. 'Is everything all right? Why aren't you in the shop? Are you sick?' 'I am at the shop.' Anne laughed. 'And yes, everything is fine. I've been trying to get through to see if you were okay. I heard about the storm on the radio. I was worried about you being on your own.' Even though Patrick was out Ellie lowered her voice. 'In actual fact I'm not alone. The house was being painted when the creek flooded and -' 'Don't tell me you got stranded with that blonde hunk you had your eye on? Of all the luck.' 'Not exactly ... I got stranded with his brother.' 'What's he like?' 'All right I suppose.' Her reluctance to discuss Patrick with her friend surprised Ellie. The calm gentle Anne was usually the first person she turned to for advice. 'He has his son with him. Todd's four, he's a darling.'

Anne laughed again. 'Well at least you've found a child to dote on. You really should have one of your own, Ellie. If you ask me it's a pity that boyfriend of yours didn't let his heart rule his head now and again.' 'I'm glad he didn't.' Ellie shuddered. 'When I have children I want them to grow up with two parents.' 'You didn't do too badly brought up by one,' Anne pointed out. 'I had the security of knowing my parents loved each other.' She sighed. 'Even so there were times when I desperately wished I had a mother to talk to. Still do as a matter of fact.' The hair prickled on the back of her neck as she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to see Patrick at the door. Her heart gave a giant leap as his eyes caught hers. Such was his impact that the breath left her body in one big rush, leaving her weak and dizzy. She took in a gulp of air to replace her depleted supply. 'I've got to go now, Anne.' 'You sound odd, Ellie. Is something wrong?' How could his eyes be so shuttered? What thoughts were hidden in their midnight depths? Patrick's eyes could be as soft as velvet or as hard and bright as sapphire. Now they were so guarded that all his thoughts and feelings were locked inside. 'Ellie?' 'Yes, everything's fine,' she heard herself say, her eyes still locked with Patrick's. She wished she could get inside his head. Did he feel anything about what had happened between them? Regret? Guilt perhaps? Did he think her cheap? Was he plotting his next move? A chill ran through her. Whatever she'd said about there not being a next time was meaningless when her juices boiled in her body at the very sight of him. The air was so charged between them she ached with the tension. 'Thanks for ringing, Anne. I'll call you in a day or so.' Her voice was an actor, delivering perfectly banal lines in a perfectly normal voice. Never let the opposition think they've got the upper hand. Her father's advice. 'Good morning, Patch.' Smile, she ordered her lips. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly in return, his eyes remained guarded. 'I didn't think you'd be inclined to speak to me this morning.' 'Didn't you?' Her shrug was as offhand as she could make it, her eyes as guarded as his. She'd been dreading this moment. Now it was here she wasn't going to let him off easy. 'Why did you think that?' 'Don't try and back me into a corner, Ellie. You know damned well why.' She could almost admire his deviousness. Patrick was trying to convince himself there was no emotion

involved in what had happened. Did he really believe it had been nothing more than sexual gratification between two consenting adults - that it could be dismissed and forgotten about? Think again, Patch Morgan. Being brought up by a man taught me a lot about the male ego. Try this for size. 'I'm adult enough to admit your inventive style of love-making was entirely satisfying.' She gave a mocking grin as his eyes flew open. 'What's the matter, Patch? Have I shocked you by telling you what an accomplished lover you are?' 'It was unexpected.' A pulse leapt to life in his throat has his glance carefully swept her face. 'You're not exactly conventional, are you?' 'Define conventional for me.' 'You know exactly what I mean.' His voice was becoming exasperated. 'You don't fit the conventional female image. You can't cook, are outspoken, offbeat, argumentative. Since when did women repair the plumbing or admit they enjoyed ... enjoyed ... ?' 'Kinky sex?' She laughed. 'All women have fantasies. Be honest, Patrick. Would you rather I lied about it?' 'I could probably handle it better,' he said dryly. The grin appeared on his face. 'If you want honesty, I'll admit to the concept being a turn-on.' 'Don't get too turned on,' she said hastily. If he took her words literally she could be in serious trouble. 'I meant what I said last night.' 'That it won't happen again?' His eyes narrowed a fraction as two steps closed the gap between them. The bruise around his eye had faded, she noticed, trying to ignore the mental images the aroma of his after-shave evoked. The deep clear blue of his eyes were emphasized by the incredibly long dark lashes. The amusement in them was almost unbearable. 'Unfortunately, my sexy little witch, you seem to have unleashed the beast in me.' 'Control it.' Trembling from the close proximity, her voice was a barely audible whisper. His admission was a compliment of sorts. This was a man who'd been celibate for some time, who'd had no intention of getting involved with a woman. Ellie shivered as he gently blew a strand of hair away from her face. Nature itself seemed to have aided and abetted his downfall. His lips sliding against her cheeks were like whispers of silk. Why had she allowed herself to fall in love with him, to make herself available? Now he wanted to possess her, to use her body to quiet the beast she'd unleashed. She seemed to have no will-power. Her lips were already parting eagerly to capture his mouth, his teasing tongue, her breasts already tilting against his rough muscular chest like ripened berries. An ache of longing grabbed like a thief at the spot he'd plundered, leaving her moist. 'Tell me your fantasies, Eloise,' he murmured against her lips. 'Tonight I'll try and satisfy them all.' He was playing with her, sure of himself - of her. Hadn't she been through all this before, with David? Only Patrick was being more honest with his intentions. He wanted her body, nothing more. And if she didn't put a stop to it he'd get it - right here in the kitchen!

Placing her mouth against his ear she murmured the one word that would stop his advances. She was pushed to arms length. The amusement in his eyes was followed in quick succession by wariness, disbelief, then utter shock. The fact that she'd predicted his reaction in advance brought no comfort. The grin she gave mocked both him and herself, and aided in his recovery if the ironic smile he gave was anything to go by. 'I had a little therapeutic sex in mind, not marriage.' The warm imprints of his hands began to cool as arms dropped to his side. 'Besides ... didn't your aunt predict a Libran?' So why had she fallen for a Scorpio? And why had Aunt Vera wanted them to meet? Ellie tried not to smile as the answer came into her mind. She'd been getting ready to go to work when the postman had delivered the star chart, she hadn't taken the time to read it properly. The smile became a reality when she gazed at Patrick. He was bound to figure in it somewhere, she felt it in her bones. 'I wouldn't have thought you the type of man to take my aunt's profession seriously.' A shout from the garden drew his eyes to the window. 'I didn't until three years ago.' His lips curved in a smile. 'I was given reason to change my mind.' 'Something to do with Todd?' she guessed. The hesitation in his face made her want to scream trust me! The expression was replaced by a frown. 'I really see no point of discussing it with you.' 'Sometimes it helps to talk,' Her hand touched his arm as he turned to leave. 'I'm not exactly a stranger.' 'On the contrary, Eloise.' The sarcasm was pulled on like a defensive second skin. 'I would describe our relationship as intimate, but not the kind of intimacy to encourage confidence.' Abruptly he withdrew his arm from her touch. 'Let's leave it that way.' I should be feeling crushed and humiliated,' Ellie thought, gazing at the door he'd closed so firmly behind him. So why do I just feel sad? Was it because he'd been hurt so badly by a woman he could no longer love or trust another one? Jealous anger attacked with such ferocity that she wanted to scream with the pain it brought her. That woman had been given everything worth having, and had destroyed it. There was nothing left in Patrick to salvage. Patrick couldn't even bear being touched when they'd made love. They hadn't actually made love in the true sense. It had been a release for his anger. A call girl would have serve the purpose just as well. Ellie took a deep breath and suffocated the flood of destructive self-recrimination that poured into her mind. She replaced it with a more positive thought. She was the first woman Patrick had been attracted to since his disastrous relationship. He'd been unable to resist his need for her, was unable to deny it. However hard he tried to convince himself to the contrary, something in Patrick was beginning to give. That was something she could work on. The sound of laughter brought her eyes to the window and she smiled. Patrick had attached a rope and car tire to a branch of the Jacaranda tree, and was watching Todd with a smile on his face as the boy

swung back and forth. A feeling of deja vu washed over her. She seemed to be staring into a mirage. Everything seemed so familiar, so dear to her. Any minute now Patrick would turn and ... ? Her senses swam as he unleashed a devastating smile in her direction. 'Come and join us.' Exactly what she'd known he'd say! Still under the same spell of unreality she made her way from the house. Patrick's eyes were intent on her face as she made her way towards him. He would hold out his hand to her…... She placed hers in its warmth, felt it lifted to his lips, experienced a kiss as light as a butterfly alighting on her knuckles. Some recognition passed between them as their eyes caught and held, an almost intimate knowledge that was nothing to do with today. Patrick's eyes registered surprise, then the spell Ellie was under shattered as doubt darkened them. The mirage hardened into the substance of a bright day. she couldn't even remember walking here from the kitchen. One thing was certain. Whatever she had felt, he had felt. The guarded expression he'd worn in the kitchen gradually reasserted itself as he stared at her. Then he shrugged and said a trifle reluctantly. 'I guess I should get started on the kitchen.' 'Why don't you take a day off,' she suggested on impulse. 'We've been stuck indoors for ages. 'We could catch some yabbies, then have a picnic lunch.' She smiled as Todd jumped off the swing and came running towards them. 'It's a lovely day. We could pan for gold up near the old mine - become instant millionaires.' Todd leaned against her leg and quivered with excitement. 'Please, Patch.' The entreaty in his voice brought a grin to Patrick's face. 'Okay, I know when I'm licked. Let's go and get ready.' *** Flat on her stomach Ellie gazed intently into the sun-dappled stream. 'There,' she said quietly as she spotted a movement amongst the reeds. 'Lower the bait in now, Todd.' The bait consisted of a length of string with a piece of bacon rind attached. It jiggled with the strain of Todd's excitement as he carefully lowered it through the clear shallow water to the sandy bed. 'Like this?' 'Shush,' she murmured as a pair of black claws emerged from the shadows of the roots. 'Remember Todd. When he takes the bait, slide your other hand in the water and lift him from behind.' The yabbie emerged cautiously, its long antenna testing the surroundings for danger. Then one claw scissored on to the bacon.

'Now,' she whispered. Todd's small hand slid carefully into the water and Ellie closed her eyes. Please let him catch one this time, she prayed. He's been trying so hard. When Todd whooped with joy she knew her prayer had been answered. The noise sent a flock of finches twittering with alarm into the air. Opening her eyes Ellie hastily moved her head as Todd waved the small cray within an inch of her nose. 'That's the best yabbie we've caught so far. Put it in the bucket with the others then see if you can catch another. We should have enough then.' Rolling into a sitting position she relaxed against the trunk of the red gum they were under. 'Call me if you need any help.' Todd had an ear to ear grin as he dropped the yabbie in the bucket and picked up the baited string. Ellie observed him from under her lashes whilst he fished, marveling at the strong resemblance he bore to his father. She'd broken her own rule by allowing herself to love Todd. The detachment she'd learned to apply to other people's children simply hadn't worked where Todd was concerned. Perhaps the chemistry between herself and Patrick had something to do with it. It would be double heartbreak in she couldn't salvage something from the relationship. She watched the string slide into the water. That's right, Todd, entice your prey out into the open - make him feel safe and confident - allow him to capture the bait then ...? Grab him when he's vulnerable! Her cry of victory was almost as loud as Todd's when - face flushed with pride - he turned towards her, his prize held aloft. Scrambling to her feet, she ignored the yabbie's threatening claw, picked Todd up in a hug and danced in a circle. 'That one's a beauty.' Before the exuberant dance had finished a low chuckle reached her ears. Todd leapt from her arms and held the hapless yabbie out to Patrick. 'I caught it all by myself.' 'I saw you.' The eyes that caught hers over Todd's head contained a mixture of amusement and pride. Ellie's breath caught in her throat. In one moment of unguarded intimacy Patrick had forgotten himself enough to let her share something precious with him. They day seemed to take on an extra sparkle as he followed it up with a smile. 'The billy's boiling if you want to cook your catch.' Ellie's smile slipped into her boots at the thought. She hadn't counted on having to actually cook them. After giving the bucket of yabbies the once-over, she said with a definite lack of enthusiasm. 'I don't think I want to cook them.' A kiss brushed against her cheek. 'I'll do it. You can unpack the picnic basket instead.' Lifting Todd to his shoulders he picked up the bucket, then entwined the fingers of his free hand with hers. 'Come on, green-eyes. We still have to strike gold before we can go home.' The stream near the old mine was broad and shallow, its bed strewn with rocks and pebbles. Although vegetation had softened the scar in the hillside, the dark entrance of the mine was still visible. Rusted bits

of iron in the surrounding bush was evidence of long undisturbed dreams of wealth. 'It's rumored that Ned Kelly's gang shot one of the miners and robbed him of his gold.' 'There are lots of rumors concerning the Kelly gang.' Patrick grinned as he dragged her to her feet. 'If I remember correctly, this mine never produced any significant amounts of gold. When the land's developed the consortium intends to turn the mine into a tourist attraction. His arm made a wide sweep of the stream. 'Imagine the scene. Hundreds of people up to their knees in water who've paid for the privilege of panning for gold.' His finger settled on the opposite bank. 'Ye Old Colonial Coffee Shop will be over there, next to it a souvenir ship selling Ned Kelly originals. They'll probably come up with a genuine reproduction of a Cobb and Co. coach to stand outside. Rumor will become reality and the mine will produce more money in the end than anyone ever dreamed of. Ned's ghost will gnash its teeth with envy.' 'Cynic,' she murmured. 'Think of the employment it will generate in the area.' 'I have thought.' He smiled as he handed her the frying pan.' 'Andrew's been invited to submit plans for the project. If they're approved I intend to lodge a tender. We work well together.' 'And if they're not approved?' Patrick shrugged. 'It will depend on another project I'm after. Money's tight at the moment.' Reminded that her father was responsible for Patrick's circumstances, a cloud of guilt settled on Ellie's shoulders. 'We better go and find some gold before the rush starts. What we find we split.' 'What's half of nothing?' he asked with a grin. 'Stop being a pessimist,' she flung over he shoulder as she marched towards the water. 'I feel lucky today.' 'Did you bring your book of spells,' he teased, catching up with her. 'It might come in handy.' 'Shut up, Patch Morgan! Go and look under a few rocks. I have it on good authority that's where gold settles.' 'I saw that film too,' he murmured. 'John Wayne, wasn't it?' 'Debbie Reynolds, actually.' She laughed as he walked away. If Debbie could win her man then so could she. But first she was going to find him some gold. Turning over a small rock she lifted the pebbly sand into her pan and swirled the water gently around. She eased the floating sediment over the lip of the pan and examined each pebble one by one before discarding them. The muddy black sediment she was left with didn't look too promising. Turning the pan towards the sun she ran her finger through it and excitement rippled through her. The mud was laced with a few sparkling gold flecks. It seemed an age before she finally managed to get rid of all the sediment, but there in the bottom of the pan remained half a dozen gold specks. She glanced at Patrick as she took an aspirin bottle from her pocket, suppressed the urge to shout. She'd wait until the bottle was full, surprise him.

Gold fever gripped her as she repeated the maneuver again, with the same result. Eureka! She moved on and tried again. 'Come out of there, Ellie. It's time to go.' She straightened up and gazed reluctantly at the bank, suddenly aware that she was cold and the shadows were lengthening. Her clothes were nearly soaked to the waist. She shivered. What had happened to the time? Patrick hefted Todd on to his shoulders. 'I'm not waiting any longer. Todd's tired.' 'Wait,' she yelled as he started to walk away. 'I'm coming.' Scrambling from the water she threw the dirty pan into the bag of utensils and scurried after him. Water squelched from her shoes as she ran to keep up with his long stride. 'Slow down a bit.' 'It's a long walk to the car. I don't intend to get stuck in the bush in the dark.' If anything his stride lengthened. 'If you'd come when I first called you we wouldn't have to walk so fast.' 'I didn't hear you call.' 'You didn't want to hear me.' Her sounded irritable. 'Sometimes I think you've got rocks in your head.' Safely behind him, Ellie poked out her tongue. 'It's a family trait. I apologize most humbly if it annoys you.' 'Stop being sarcastic.' He stopped so suddenly that she walked into the back of him. 'What did you do that for?' she panted as her remaining breath was squeezed from her body by the impact. 'Todd is falling asleep on my shoulders. I'll need both hands. Can you manage the other bag?' 'Sure.' She took it from him and hooked it over her shoulder as he transferred Todd to his arms. 'I'm sorry I made us late. I lost track of time.' He grunted an acceptance of her apology as he took off again. The two bags she was toting seemed to get heavier and heavier as she stumbled after him. To make matters worse her wet clothes seemed intent of rubbing the skin from her the inside of her knees, and the bag straps indented her shoulders with soreness. It was dusk when they emerged from the bush on to the road. Ellie's legs felt so weak she was ready to collapse. Wearily she dropped her load to the road. 'That bag weighed a ton. I'll be listing sideways for the next month.' Patrick grinned slightly as he opened the car door. 'Get in. I'll pass Todd in to you.' Ellie forgot her sore knees as Todd snuggled against her. Mouth against his hair she breathed in his small boy scent and imprinted it on her memory. Yabbies - mud - and sweat. She unfolded his fingers, examined the dirt-caked creases. A wave of love swept over her and she breathed kisses into his hair as

the Rover headed for home. Todd woke up long enough to bath and down a bowl of soup, then fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Patrick eyed her soggy pants. 'I'll start of dinner if you want to get a shower. You must be uncomfortable.' 'Thanks.' Remembering the reason for her damp state she grinned to herself as she made her way to the bathroom. The amount of gold dust she'd collected was embarrassingly small, and would be minuscule if she divided it. She presented it to Patrick after dinner, wrapped in cellophane and tied with a blue ribbon. 'It's not enough to make you a millionaire.' She watched with bated breath as he unwrapped her offering. 'But it's a start.' He stared at the bottle with its half-teaspoon of gold dust without saying a word. 'Don't you like it?' Of course he didn't. Why would Patrick want a memento of the day they'd spent together? He didn't have a sentimental bone in his body. She felt suddenly awkward. 'You spent all afternoon in the freezing water collecting this?' She tried to keep the hurt from her voice. 'I know it's not much -' 'It's the most wonderful present anyone's ever given me, you little fool.' His hand covered hers. 'I have something for you in the bag. Wait there.' 'What is it?' Her face dropped when he placed a large round stone on the table in front of her. 'No wonder the bag was so heavy. I didn't realize I was carrying a boulder!' 'Don't you like it?' he mocked. 'It's different,' she admitted, examining it. 'A nice shape. I'll be able to use it as a door stop.' Rising to his feet, Patrick grabbed up the boulder with one hand and pulled her to her feet with the other. 'Come with me.' She seemed to have no choice when he dragged her towards the laundry. What was he up too?' She found out two minutes later when he took a hammer and chisel from the cupboard. He placed the stone on the floor, applied the chisel to the middle of the stone and glanced up at her, his expression serious. 'If you have an incantation to stop this shattering into little pieces, say it now.' 'Hocus-pocus,' she offered lamely, wondering if Patrick had gone mad. One swift blow from the hammer split the stone in half and she exclaimed with delighted surprise at what was revealed. Clustered in its heart was a nest of quartz crystal in multi-hued purple. 'That's exquisite. How did you know it was a quartz egg?' 'By its weight.' Picking up the two halves he presented them to her with a little bow. 'For you, my lady.'

'Thank you.' She kissed him on the cheek, selected one half and left him with the rest. 'The spoils were to be shared, remember?' 'You gave me half your gold?' 'Of course,' she lied. 'And more than half my yabbies. You only caught two.' 'I deserved more.' His grin was more relaxed than she'd ever seen it. The day out had done him good. 'Who was too squeamish to cook them?' 'I felt sorry for them.' 'That didn't stop you eating them.' 'It seemed pointless not to once they were dead.' His banter brought happy laughter to her lips. 'They were delicious, weren't they?' 'You're delicious.' The eyes that roved over her face were warm, his voice slightly husky. 'I'm just beginning to realize that I was wrong in my opinion of you.' Ellie's heart did a series of somersaults when his lips grazed gently against hers. 'You wanted to know about Todd. Perhaps we could talk after I've had my shower.' Taking her hand he led her back to the kitchen. 'Make some coffee whilst I'm gone.' Fifteen minutes later Ellie was drowning in the blue ocean of Patrick's regard when the telephone rang and shattered her dream. Patrick flipped it from its rest. 'Yes?' His lips tightened suddenly, the eyes resting on her face darkened. 'Yes, she's here.' 'Who is it?' she mouthed, bewildered by the change in him. Anger chased across his face. 'Who the hell am I? The hired help. Who the hell are you to ask?' A gritty smile crossed his face. 'Her fiancee?' Voice laced with arsenic he handed her the telephone. 'David Lessingham wishes to speak to you.' 'David?' Startled she took the receiver from him. Damn, damn, damn! He couldn't have picked a worse time to contact her. What did he want after all this time? Aware of Patrick's accusing gaze upon her she hardly took in what David was saying. Something about being back in Melbourne for a holiday. He wanted to see her. 'What for?' David's smooth voice finally said something that registered in her brain. She started to laugh. 'You've missed me, want to take me to America to live?' Her laughter faded as his words sunk in. 'Marry you?' The door slammed so hard behind her that her spine jerked, her stomach contracted, and her suddenly nerveless hand lost its hold on the receiver. It dangled an inch from the floor revolving round and round on its cord. Each time the mouthpiece turned her way she could hear David's voice. It sounded like a

duck quacking in the distance. Once she'd been so besotted with David she'd have given anything to have heard him say those words. Now they were meaningless. David had never loved her. What had motivated him to contact her now? Grabbing up the receiver she cut off his flow of words. 'Why, David?' 'I've always been honest with you, Ellie.' When it was expedient. 'I'm on my way up. I associate with some important people in America. Having the right partner will be an asset. Besides ...' His voice became almost businesslike. 'You'll need someone to manage your affairs.' 'They're not that complicated. I can manage them myself.' 'You were always a fool with money.' Thanks. David. You weren't too good yourself if my father's business was anything to go by, she thought resentfully. 'Two million dollars isn't peanuts, Ellie. It needs managing.' 'Two million dollars? What the hell are you talking about, David?' 'The investments your father made for you ten years ago. It's made front page news. The liquidator can't touch it.' The information made contact with a childhood memory lurking in her brain, that under the circumstances she didn't feel like dusting it off. The avarice in David's voice made her feel sick. 'Crawl back into your hole, David,' she snarled. 'I never want to see or hear from you again.' She slammed the receiver down on its rest and stared at it in disgust. 'How could you do this to me, Dad?' she whispered. 'Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise.' The wise old voice in her head sounded like her aunt. 'Think of the good you can do with it. Your father would have wanted his debts paid.' 'Thank's for the advice, Aunt Vera.' Ellie sniffed back her threatening tears. 'But will Patrick understand about David?' Obviously not. They were back to square one when he entered the kitchen, his face as chilly as an Arctic winter. 'Congratulations,' he said icily. 'You've finally hooked yourself a husband.'

CHAPTER EIGHT 'You pig-headed, stubborn brute!' Ellie watched him swing an ax over his head with effortless ease, then split a huge chunk of wood in half. 'If it wasn't for Todd I'd let you walk into town.'

Since David's call two days previously, Patrick had hardly been able to hide his disgust for her. And because he'd insulted her by jumping to the wrong conclusion she'd decided he didn't deserve an explanation. To make matters worse, before she'd plucked up the courage to tell him about the money he'd learned about it from a news broadcast. 'I suppose you conveniently forgot to tell me about that piece of small change,' he'd said harshly. She hadn't forgotten. She'd assumed it had been part of her father's business dealings when she'd first learned about the investment in her name. At fourteen, she'd been too young to understand what her father had told her, and he hadn't mentioned it again. She'd slept on the problem before deciding on a course of action. The stunned protest from her father's lawyer when she'd phoned him the next morning had angered her. 'David Lessingham has already told me he'll be acting as your advisor. I doubt if he'll agree to that.' 'Let me make one thing clear,' she said sharply. 'In no shape or form is David Lessingham my advisor. Those are my instructions and I want them carried out to the letter. If you're unable to do that I'll hire a lawyer who can.' Five minutes later she'd rung him with an apology, and an explanation of her motives. The man had been a lifelong friend of her father and Ellie had known him all her life. She'd found him sympathetic and understanding. When she signed the papers that afternoon the burden of wealth would be lifted from her shoulders. Lunch was an awkward affair. The omelets she made were as rubbery and flat as she felt. Patrick pushed his aside. Todd was subdued. Instinct told her he was fretting over the parting. She'd eased him into the idea the previous day, but that hadn't stopped him from clinging to her side, which earned her several accusing glances from Patrick. 'I've split some logs for you.' Patrick ignored her murmured thanks and gazed at Todd. 'Hurry up and eat, mate. It's nearly time to go.' 'I've got a tummy ache,' he said miserably. 'Nanna will fix it.' 'I want Ellie to.' Tears filled her eyes when his bottom lip began to tremble. 'Cut it out,' Patrick said with a sigh. 'You're making it harder for him.' His heart was made of stone. Pushing her lunch to one side she headed for the door before he had the satisfaction of seeing her burst into tears. 'Call me when you're ready to leave,' she choked out. 'I'll be in my bedroom.' *** The creek was down to its usual trickle. Patrick's truck, its cabin flattened, was covered in debris. She

shuddered. If they'd been in it they'd never have survived. 'The truck and van will be moved tomorrow.' The glance he gave her was cursory, his voice was curt. 'I've arranged for your car to be towed into the garage. You can fill in the insurance papers when you're in town.' 'You've already told me that,' she snapped, her nerves stretched to breaking point by the atmosphere between them. 'Let me concentrate on driving this thing. I'm not used to the Rover.' He didn't say another word until they reached the outskirts of Benella. 'Make a left turn at the traffic crossroad, then second right. Second right!' Damn, she'd missed it! Pulling the Land Rover to the side of the road she ground the gears into reverse, backed it into a driveway and turned back the way they'd come. 'Someone should teach you to drive,' he muttered under his breath. 'And someone should teach you some manners,' she shot back. The tires squealed as she tore across the road and around the corner. 'Which house?' 'The stone house at the end of the road. Try to avoid my father's rose bushes when you go up the drive.' The sarcasm wasn't lost on her when she pulled into a driveway wide enough to accommodate a bus. Immediately, a woman emerged from the house, a welcoming smile on her face. 'You'll be coming in for tea, Miss Bryce.' Her eyes darted to Todd's glum face. 'Hasn't my boyo got a kiss for his nanna, then?' The soft welsh lilt to the woman's voice was unexpected, even though Patrick had told her he'd been born in Wales. 'I've got a tummy ache, Nanna.' Patrick's lips tightened when Todd edged across the seat towards her. He took his son firmly by the waist and lifted him from the car. 'Miss Bryce won't be staying.' The woman's sharp blue eyes told Ellie she'd missed nothing. 'Shame on you, Patrick,' she said softly. 'Was it you I addressed? Be off with you into the house. Your brother is waiting with some news.' She took Todd from his arms and watched him leave before turning her attention back to her grandson. 'It's a face like sour pickles you've got, just like your father. It must be a terrible tummy ache you must have. And to think I spent all morning cooking your favorite cheese scones. Perhaps Miss Bryce will come in and help me eat them.' 'I feel better now.' Todd's face brightened when she smiled and got down from the car. The woman gave her a frankly interested glance. 'Is it Miss Bryce I must be calling you then?' 'Ellie.' She held out her hand. 'I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs Morgan.' The woman ignored the hand and kissed her on the cheek. 'It's Bronwyn, my dear.' Her voice became fierce as they reached the door. 'In you come. If that dolt of a son doesn't mind himself it's a smack on the ear he'll get for his trouble. And that goes for the two of you,' she warned as the sound of male

laughter reached their ears. Ellie was spared having tea with Patrick. After greeting Andrew, and being introduced to Bronwyn's husband, she watched with a smile as the woman shooed the men through to the sitting room and took them a tray. She and Bronwyn sat in the roomy kitchen with Todd, and Ellie found herself liking the woman more and more. Bronwyn could have pried, but she didn't, restricting her conversation to generalities. When it was time for her to leave, Bronwyn made the parting gentle and easy. 'It's visiting Ellie we'll be next week if she'd have us, Todd.' 'I'd love to see you.' She knelt and gave Todd a fierce hug. 'That's a promise.' 'Run and tell your father Ellie is leaving, Todd.' 'Don't bother.' Hastily Ellie shot to her feet. 'He's busy.' 'Not too busy to say good-bye.' A grin was playing round Patrick's mouth when he escorted her to the car. 'I got that contract I was after.' 'Congratulations.' She started up the engine. 'Your mother's bringing Todd up to visit me next week. Do you mind?' 'Whose idea was that?' 'Not mine.' His hand covered hers. 'Is that wise? You'll be going back to Melbourne in a couple of weeks.' 'I don't know what's wise and what isn't any more.' She gazed at him helplessly. 'I haven't got the ability to cut off relationships without bleeding a little.' 'And I do?' Did he have to sound so accusatory? She echoed his tone. 'You just lie to yourself.' 'You should have listened to me, Eloise.' The mocking light was back in his eyes. 'I told you you'd get hurt.' 'I know.' She caught and held his eyes. 'My father taught me to take responsibility for my own actions, so I only have myself to blame.' 'Ouch,' he drawled. 'You have a kick like a mule, lady.' 'And you have a mule's disposition.' He laughed. 'When you marry your yuppie boyfriend I hope you'll find his disposition more to your liking.'

'That wouldn't be hard,' she snarled. 'The collective disposition of a pack of wild dogs would an improvement on yours.' Angrily she slammed the door shut and thrust the car into reverse. 'What makes you think I'm marrying him anyway?' 'Aren't you?' The detaining hand he put on the car made no difference to it rolling down the drive. 'Come back,' he shouted, starting after her. 'We haven't finished this conversation.' 'I have.' Who did he think he was giving her orders? The garden sprinklers were on, the end of the drive where it met the road puddled with muddy water. She grinned as he came towards her. Didn't she owe him one? Thrusting the vehicle into forward she stamped one foot on the accelerator, the other on the brake. The wheels spun crazily before they gripped to propel her towards the end of the road. She started to laugh when she glanced in the driving mirror. 'Take that, Patch Morgan! she shouted out gleefully as the corner cut his dripping figure from her vision. *** Benella was a pretty little city. Apart from its connection with the Kelly gang, its other claim to fame was the profusion of roses that bloomed from spring through to autumn. Today, the gardens surrounding the lake were thronged with people enjoying the winter sunshine, and the neatly pruned rose bushes were waiting for spring to encourage them into life. Ellie didn't have time to linger. After her business at the garage she hurried to keep her appointment at the bank, and was immediately shown into the manager's office. 'I'm sorry I'm late.' Filled to the brim with Bronwyn's cheese scones she declined his offer of tea. 'I had an accident in my car and the insurance papers took longer to fill out than I thought they would.' 'You didn't hurt yourself, I hope.' 'Thank you, no.' She smiled at him. 'The papers are ready for signing?' 'They came by internal mail this morning.' He hesitated. 'Are you quite certain you're doing the right thing? An amount of money this size shouldn't be taken lightly. Have you taken advice on this?' Considering the amount owed to the bank she would have thought them eager to relieve her of some of it. He was a nice man, she reflected, with a rare, old-fashioned courtesy. She wouldn't have given much for his chances had the bank's head office overheard the conversation. 'I discussed it with my lawyer.' 'In that case I'll take you through the papers before I call in someone to notarize our signatures. The papers were drawn up by the auditor assigned to your father's business, according to the instructions from your lawyer. If there's something you don't understand, please tell me and I'll explain it. If there's anything you don't agree with, the papers can be rewritten and signed at a later date.' An hour later she hurried to the post office to empty her aunt's mail box, then on to the supermarket to shop for groceries before heading back out of town. Her last stop was the office of Bluebird Helicopter

Services, which was situated on the outskirts of town. 'You must be Ellie.' The woman behind the desk gave her a warm smile as she rose to her feet. 'I'm Bluebird, otherwise known as Jenny Morrison.' The woman was about thirty, tall and beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled into a smooth chignon that framed her classic features and huge dark eyes. Ellie stole a glance at her ring finger. Todd's Godmother was married. 'I've dropped in to thank you for getting my shopping, and to pay my bill.' 'Patrick settled your bill.' Jenny indicated a chair. 'Fancy a coffee?' 'Thanks.' She gave her an inquiring glance. 'Patrick didn't say he was going to settle my bill. When did he do that?' 'About an hour ago.' Placing two cups of coffee on the table Jenny subsided into the opposite chair and gave her an appraising glance. 'You sound annoyed about it.' 'I am.' She didn't want to owe Patrick anything. 'He said you would be.' Jenny grinned. 'He said if you want to throw it back in his face you can do it at my husband's birthday bash on Saturday.' 'I have a better idea.' Ellie took some notes from her bag and placed them on the table. 'You can throw it in his face for me.' 'You're invited anyway. Any friend of Todd's is a friend on mine. By the way, were the gob-stoppers effective?' When she blushed Jenny grinned at her. 'Are you sure you won't come to the party?' 'Actually, I have a girl-friend coming for the weekend.' It was only a partial lie. She intended ringing Anne to invite her for the weekend as soon as she got home, and was certain Anne would accept. 'Bring her along. We could do with some extra women.' Jenny was so open and nice that she didn't have the heart to refuse. 'What's the address?' 'It's at the function center. Peter's turning forty so I'm giving him a big splash to make him feel better.' She pushed the money back across the table. 'Patrick has had a rough time of it lately, but he's still got his pride. He wouldn't have insulted you by giving you money for his bed and board, so why don't you forget this.' She nodded and shoved it back into her bag, ashamed of herself. Finishing her coffee Jenny gave her a conspiratorial smile as the telephone began to ring. 'I wouldn't be at all surprised if that's him checking up on you, again. Shall we keep him guessing?' She gathered up her bag and smiled. 'I think I like you, Jenny Morrison. I'll see you on Saturday.' 'Hello, Patrick,' Jenny cooed as she walked out of the door. 'Have I seen who ...?'

*** It seemed like no time had passed before she was pointing out Andrew to Anne at the party. 'Who's the dark hunk with him?' Anne asked. Her heart began to thump when Patrick smiled at something Andrew said. 'It's his brother, Patrick. He was the one I got stuck with when the creek flooded.' 'The married one with the son?' 'He's not married.' Her face was tense as she gazed nervously around her for their hostess. 'He was in a relationship that didn't work out.' 'So he's available.' Anne had an enigmatic smile on her face. 'Introduce me.' 'No!' Hastily she gazed at her friend. 'You won't like him. He's got a vile temper, and ... he doesn't like women.' 'He seems to like the one he's looking at now.' 'Who is it?' She fought the impulse to turn and see for herself. 'A petite blonde in a long black dress. He can't keep his eyes off her. Wait a minute - he's making his way over to her - what gorgeous eyes he has - he looks as though he wants to devour her.' 'I'll kill him,' she muttered under her breath. 'Andrew looks nice. Isn't that the one you've got the hots for?' 'Not any more. He's sweet, but he's not really my type.' 'Then you won't mind introducing him to me. You have exactly ten seconds before they arrive.' Anne laughed as panic registered in her eyes. 'Nine - eight - seven - six ...' Ten seconds wasn't enough to combat the overwhelming reality of his presence. The crowded room disappeared from her consciousness as soon as her eyes met his. 'Eloise,' he murmured, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. He grinned when he spotted the black and gold leopard earrings she wore, and stooped to blow gently in her ear. 'Very predatory.' 'Sometimes I could kill you,' she hissed when the shivers racing down her spine subsided. Andrew's soft chuckle reminded her they weren't alone. Coloring slightly, she tore her eyes away from Patrick, first registering the fact that his dark blue shirt exactly matched the color of his eyes. She tried to unravel the knots he'd tied in her stomach, but they simply retied themselves when his fingers curled casually around hers. 'Introduce your friend to Andrew. He's dying to meet her.' Not only was he reminding her of her manners, he was making it clear Andrew was strictly out of bounds

to her. The dark look she shot him was absorbed by his smile, mocking, and very aware of his power to turn her into a bumbling idiot. When introductions had been dispensed with she was drawn on to the dance floor and pulled into the circle of his arms. She resisted at first, her body stiff and awkward, her senses desperately swimming against the overpowering physicality of him. Spots of colour appeared in her cheeks when he murmured. 'Relax, Angel. Need I remind you we've been closer then this?' Was she supposed to thank him when she was trying not to remember? And why expend her energy on resistance when the surging whirlpool of feeling inside told its own story? Go with the flow, Ellie. Enjoy it. She weakened, allowing it to suck her down, deeper and deeper, until she drowned in the essence of his closeness. How she got through the evening she never knew. As far as she was concerned there was nobody else in the room but Patrick - yet she danced with others, laughed with others. Everywhere she turned he was there, smiling at her, his dark eyes drawing her to him. Tension built between them until the air was vibrating with it. Finally the evening drew to a close. Patrick was by her side, his hands draping her wrap around her shoulders. His kissed her in front of the departing guests, his mouth blazing a trail of fire against her lips. His fingers plucked the car keys from her bag. 'I'll drive.' Things seemed to have been taken out of her hands. She gave the thinning crowd a cursory glance. 'Where's Anne?' 'Gone with Andrew to Jenny and Pete's place. They have a chess tournament planned. Andrew will pick me up later.' Faintly surprised, she stared at him. 'Weren't we invited?' 'I declined.' 'Why?' She knew why. It had been obvious all evening. 'I only play games I can win.' The glance he gave her lacked its usual mockery as he escorted her to the car park and handed her into the passenger seat. 'I received a check from your father's auditor yesterday,' he said almost casually. Despite the jiggle of excitement she felt, Ellie tried to keep her voice just as casual when he started the engine. 'That's good.' 'They paid me in full.' 'Wonderful.' She smiled to herself. 'You sound surprised.' 'It was unexpected.' His smile held a warm intimacy. 'Life's crazy. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when I

lost my truck, now everything's happening at once.' He threw her a teasing glance. 'I'm beginning to think you really are a witch. My luck turned after you gave me that gold.' 'What makes you think I'm not?' 'Witches don't drive cars like this, and I doubt very much if they have a couple of million dollars at their disposal.' 'You shouldn't believe all you read in the papers.' She was astonished at her ability to act so well, and awarded herself an imaginary Oscar. 'You mean you haven't got all that money?' Put like that, she didn't have to lie a second time. 'Not even one twentieth of it.' Give or take a few dollars, she mentally added, crossing her fingers. The windscreen wipers purred into life as they drove into a bank of mist. 'That's good,' he murmured, his concentration diverted to the invisible road. 'Keep an eye out for the creek signpost. This stuff seems to be getting thicker.' 'The spotlight might help. The switch in under the dash on your right.' 'This car's got everything.' His hand stroked against he leather covered steering wheel. 'It's wonderful to drive.' 'It was the last gift my father gave me.' 'Some gift.' Patrick didn't bother hiding the envy in his voice. 'I expect you'd do the same for Todd if you were in the position to.' 'I guess I would.' The car slowed as the mist got thicker. She peered out of the window. 'There's the sign.' 'Thank God for that.' Slowing to almost a crawl Patrick edged them across the cement track through the creek. They drove into a seemingly solid wall of fog on the other side. 'I hope we don't miss the house.' 'I left all the lights on.' It was eerie. They seemed to be driving into a tunnel of reflected light. She opened the window and concentrated on the side of the road, intent on keeping the car away from the menacing shapes of tree trunks. She had the greatest of admiration for Patrick, who must have had nerves of steel to drive blind with only her instructions to guide him. 'We've just passed that big rock, so should be able to see the house lights soon,' she muttered when five more minutes had passed. Three minutes later Patrick drew to a halt. 'It can't be much further.' 'Turn off the lights.'

It took a while before their eyes adjusted, then she gave a triumphant cry. 'There! We should be opposite the gate. 'I'll get out and guide you through.' Seconds later they were inside. Ellie took the knot from her fog-dampened hair and shook it to her shoulders in an unconsciously teasing gesture. 'I guess you won't be going home tonight.' 'I had no intention of going home,' he growled, hungrily pulling her into his arms. 'You damned well know that.' Her need to give, ignored the exciting sensual memory of their last encounter. This time it would be on her terms. When she'd finished with him he would know what loving was all about. Her eyes flirted with his. 'My rules this time.' 'Why do I get the feeling your rules come under the heading of revenge.' A rueful smile lifted the corner of his mouth. 'Do your damndest, Eloise. I won't move a muscle.' 'I wouldn't bet on that,' she whispered, her tongue exploring the salty hollow of his throat. Something stirred gently against her and he chuckled. 'Neither would I.' *** The bed was full of the scent of their loving. Tangled in the bedclothes, she breathed deeply of their mingled fragrances and smiled. Patrick had coaxed her from slumber in the most delightful way, bringing her body to a relaxed state of awareness, then beyond into sublime ecstasy. She was fulfilled beyond measure, the subconscious behind her closed eyes alive with echoes of words whispered in the intensity of his passion. Her creamy complexion turned a delicate shade of pink as she recalled them. How excitingly inventive the man was ... every promise followed up by action. A kiss brushed against her cheek. 'Tea for the grouch.' Grouch? She'd never felt less grouchy and so alive in all her life. Opening her eyes a chink she gazed at him. He was dressed. His damp hair curled against his forehead, and the clean, soapy smell of him churned her feelings into an impossible happiness. She supposed she should get up and shower too, but her reluctance to leave her warm nest made her snuggle languorously into the bedclothes. 'Wake up, green-eyes.' Andrew and Anne will be here shortly.' She'd forgotten about Anne. Opening her eyes the rest of the way she scrambled upright against the pillows and smiled at him. 'I wasn't asleep, I was just ...' Her blush returned two-fold when his glance caressed her partially exposed breasts. '... recovering?' His grin was wicked as he handed her the tea. 'How does an uninhibited little witch like you know how to blush?' Her arm provocatively covered one breast as she bore the cup to her lips. He leaned forward and kissed the other.

'You're shameless, Eloise. I'm not quite sure how to handle you.' 'Liar,' she breathed. 'You're an expert at handling me.' 'That was due to your excellent tuition.' His silky tone sent shockingly erotic messages quivering from one nerve end to the other. Before her eyes could issue an invitation he headed for the door. 'I'll run you a bath. Breakfast will be in twenty minutes.' *** Patrick had decided to trust her completely. With that thought uppermost in her mind, Ellie concentrated on what he'd told her. After Todd was born his mother had become involved with a wealthy business man and had left Patrick. 'How did you find out?' she'd said. 'From a private investigator. I learned they'd married and gone abroad.' 'Taking Todd with them?' 'There was no record of him leaving the country, and no answer to my letter inquiring of his whereabouts. Eventually, I went to England and confronted them.' She'd placed her hand on his arm as his voice filled with bitterness. 'She laughed at me - said I'd never see the brat I'd foisted on her again.' 'Go on,' she urged when his voice faltered. 'I went to see her parents in Sydney. They denied there had ever been a child.' Ellie gasped. 'Denied their own grandchild? What sort of people are they?' 'Wealthy.' She ignored the barb. 'What about his birth certificate?' 'I discovered she hadn't registered his birth.' He gave a grim smile. 'That's when I asked Vera to help.' 'And she found him?' 'It was strange. She was able to pin-point a town on the map in Western Australia, then gave me a description of a house and the house number.' 'And you got him back,' Ellie said with a smile. 'It wasn't that easy.' Patrick said morosely. 'The authorities were reluctant to act without proof.' 'So how did you get him back?'

'I went to the house and confronted the couple looking after him.' He shuddered. 'The place was filthy. Todd recognized me and started to scream. The man back-handed him across the room. If his wife hadn't called the police I think I would have killed him.' 'Oh, God.' Tears filled her eyes. 'How could she have left him in a place like that? How did you prove he was your son?' 'The foster parents got regular checks from his grandparents in Sydney. Blood tests did the rest.' He gave an ironic shrug. 'Once the story was put before the court I was awarded custody.' 'Thanks for telling me.' Her heart began to behave strangely when he gave a tentative smile. 'There was a reason for it. Todd loves you, and I think -' They both jumped as the phone began to ring. Startled by the noise a mouse scuttled across the floor and disappeared into the cupboard. 'Bad timing,' Patrick said with a grin. 'Yes.' Remembering the answering machine was on she turned back to him, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. 'What were you going to say?' He was going to tell her he loved her - his eyes showed it all too clearly. 'I apologize for calling you on a Sunday, Miss Bryce.' Her father's lawyer. 'Your instructions regarding the disposal of your investments have been completed.' Her father's lawyer! 'All the smaller creditors ...' Panic in her eyes, she made a grab for the receiver. '... have been paid -' 'Thank you, Mister Wentworth.' Curse you, Mister Wentworth! Patrick was rigid with shock. His eyes raked over her ashen face, found what they were seeking, then became flint. 'If I can ever be of service to you again, please don't hesitate to call me.' 'Yes,' she whispered. 'Good-bye, Mister Wentworth.' 'You lied to me.' She discovered she was shivering. 'It wasn't exactly a lie.' 'Don't try and wriggle out of this.' His voice was tight with rage. 'You lied by omission.'

'You wouldn't have understood,' she said miserably. 'You didn't give me the chance to understand.' He rose to his feet and stared down at her. 'That was one expensive lay, Eloise. I hope I gave you your money's worth.' Face flaming, she shot from her chair and reminded him. 'I don't recall hiring you as a stud, but since you ask ...?' Her lip curled. 'You were definitely worth it.' His finger hooked his jacket from the back of the chair. 'It's been nice knowing you, Ellie.' 'You don't understand.' Desperately she tried to explain as she followed him from the house. 'My father was an honorable man.' 'No kidding?' 'If he'd known the company was in trouble he'd have used that money to pay his debts. I only did what he'd have expected of me.' 'Go back to the house,' he roared when they reached the gate. 'What about us?' she yelled. 'Doesn't it mean anything to you?' 'Us?" Her heart sank as he turned and faced her. Etched on his face was the shuttered expression she knew so well. 'If you think you're important to me, forget it.' 'Now who's being a liar?' If she'd been bigger and stronger she'd have shaken him until his teeth rattled in his head. 'You overrate your attraction, Eloise.' His eyes were slices of ice cutting into hers. 'The bottom line is this. I detest being patronized or forced to accept charity. Got it?' 'It wasn't charity.' Her heart was cracking open as he strode off. Suddenly furious she shouted after him. 'What makes you so arrogant? You're not the only person to get money back from the deal. If you swallowed your stinking male pride you'd realize you're overdosing on self-pity. If you think I love you enough to put up with that you're crazy. I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth.' 'I didn't ask you to,' he flung over his shoulder. 'Go and fly your broomstick, Eloise. Just keep it out of my backyard.' Her empty lie mocked her. Who are you kidding, Ellie? You'd take him with or without a wedding ring. Just as certain, was the knowledge that he loved her as much as she loved him, and had been about to admit it before that damned phone call. She wondered how far she'd get if she sued the lawyer over it. 'You love me, you stubborn brute,' she whispered as he disappeared from her sight. 'When you've thought things over you'll be back.' He was back within five minutes - in a taxi. Where did he find a taxi in the middle of no-where? It became clear when Aunt Vera's diminutive figure alighted from the back. Patrick marched past her with the cases and dumped them on the floor. 'I'm sorry I can't stay, Vera.'

His voice was so gruff she wanted to laugh. He'd been sprung by her aunt and didn't know quite how to handle it. 'You left your toothbrush in the bathroom, Patch,' she cooed, flicking a grin at his dirty look. 'I'll get it another time - the cab's waiting.' Aunt Vera laughed as Patrick almost bolted through the door. 'That was very naughty of you, dear.' Her eyes twinkled as they came to rest on her. 'What have you been doing to the poor man? His aura is shot to pieces, and yours is disturbingly mischievous.' She laughed as she hugged her aunt. 'You should know. Why didn't you warn me about him?' 'But I did, dear.' Aunt Vera beamed. 'It was in the letter I sent you with your star chart. It's such an event when things are revealed during meditation.' 'There wasn't any letter.' 'Wasn't there?' She thought for a second. 'I must have forgotten to write it. It's really quite simple, dear. You, Todd and Patrick were together in a past life. Todd passed over to the other side for lack of a wet-nurse, shortly after you. Your souls have been searching for each other ever since.' 'I see.' She didn't bother hiding her skepticism. 'How exactly did I ... pass over? No ... don't tell me ... Patrick strangled me in a fit of rage?' 'Not so,' Aunt Vera said indignantly, the dear boy wouldn't do such a nasty thing.' She gave a little laugh. 'You're not going to believe this, dear.' 'Try me,' she said with a sigh, knowing Aunt Vera would tell her anyway. 'You dabbled in magic potions, and ended up on the ducking stool in the village pond.' 'What exactly are you saying?' The horrible suspicion forming in Ellie's mind was confirmed by her aunt. 'You were a witch.' Aunt Vera patted her on the cheek. 'Exciting, isn't it?' 'Hah!' Staggering to a chair she sank into the cushions and stared at her aunt. Then she started to laugh, she couldn't help it.

CHAPTER NINE 'I'll see you in a week.' Anne gave a final wave as Andrew's car purred into life. 'Thank's for the tarot reading, Aunt Vera. I hope we meet again, some time.' 'I'm sure we shall.' Aunt Vera smiled happily as she turned. 'It's lovely of Andrew to drive her all the way back to Melbourne. She's such a lovely girl. She deserves the happiness coming her way.'

Her smile faded. Ellie absorbed her penetrating glance and tried to keep her eyes innocent. 'I think it's about time you and I had a little chat. There are disturbing influences in my home. Scruff's put-out about something, and we have mice! Aunt Vera nodded when she gave a shame-faced grin. 'What have you been up to, missy?' *** Four days later Ellie's ears still burned when she thought of the lecture her aunt had given her on the perils of witchcraft. The book, a gift from a well-meaning friend, had been burned, and Scruff's self-confidence restored to him by the simple procedure of hunger forcing him to resume his normal duties. She kept her eye on the window whilst she dotted smarties over the packet cake she'd made. Bronwyn was due to arrive with Todd any minute. Her aunt was working on the many requests for star charts she received in the mail. When a car turned in from the road her heart nearly stopped. Patrick! Her disappointment was agonizing when she heard the engine still running after the passengers had got out. Rushing to the door she caught the running boy up in her arms and hugged him tight. Ah .... how familiar he smelled, she thought, burying her face in his neck. Smothered in kisses, she tentatively glanced at Patrick. One icy glance froze any hopes she might have harbored. He'd hadn't forgiven her for lying to him, and looked as though he never would. Despite her despair, she had a wonderful day. Bronwyn seemed content to leave Todd in her charge whilst she chatted to Aunt Vera, but Ellie was sensitive to the fact she was being covertly observed. Her panicky anticipation of encountering Patrick again was alleviated when Andrew turned up to collect them. He drew her aside, his smile enigmatic. 'I'll be in Melbourne next week. Perhaps we could have dinner together.' He kissed her gently on the cheek and whispered in her ear. 'Bring Anne along.' Bronwyn's lips pursed slightly as her sharp eyes took in the exchange. 'Is it trouble you'll be bringing on my house, then?' Ellie heard her say as the car drove away. A lump formed in her throat when Todd smiled Patrick's smile at her through the back window. She blew him a kiss, and another for Patrick. It crossed her mind when the car disappeared from sight, that it might be the last time she saw Todd. *** 'Why are people so nasty?' Anne shuffled through a stack of letters in her hand. 'Last week you had five proposals, fourteen begging letters and three obscene phone calls. How do these people ferret out where you live?' 'From the telephone book, I suppose.' She scowled. 'I'll sort them out later. They're getting fewer every week. Eventually, they'll stop.'

Anne gazed at her. 'Why don't you come to Sydney with Andrew and myself this weekend? I worry about you being alone with all this going on.' 'Don't be a twit!' Making an effort Ellie smiled at her. 'I've got plenty to do. I've decided to give the house a spring clean.' Picking up her car keys, she grinned. 'Besides, a man who drives all that way to see you twice a week is obviously nuts about you. He won't want me playing gooseberry.' When a dreamy expression crossed Anne's face she felt a small stab of envy. 'Andrew's invited me to meet his parents. Do you think he feels the same way about me as I feel about him?' Ellie knew he did - why else would she be secretly meeting him for lunch? To help him choose an engagement ring for Anne, that's why. He planned a romantic proposal. Her face softened as she picked up her bag. 'I shouldn't be at all surprised if I had to look for a new house-mate shortly. Come on, Anne, let's go. I don't want to be late for work.' *** Ellie came wide awake with her heart thumping. She hadn't dreamed it! Someone was pounding on the door. Thoughts of an accident flying through her mind, she scrambled from her bed and threw on her dressing gown. Unease gripped her when a second thought blotted out the first. What if it was one of the nutters who'd written to her? Grabbing the quartz egg from her dressing table for protection, she crept down the narrow stairs of the small terrace house. Should she call the police? No - the doors and windows were locked and she'd taken the precaution of punching the police station's number into the telephone's memory. All she had to do was lift the receiver and press a button if she needed them. 'Who is it?' Her voice hardly registered on her fear-dried vocal chords. 'Who's there?' she said more aggressively. 'The big bad wolf.' Patrick's voice nearly blasted a hole through the door. 'Do I have to stand in this damned rain all night?' She'd hardly released the variety of recently installed locks, when Patrick strode through the door and into the lounge. 'Where is he?' She followed after him. 'Where's who?' 'Don't play the innocent with me.' He gave her a scathing look. 'Andrew's car is parked outside your home. Who else would I mean?' A glow of immense satisfaction appeared in the region of Ellie's diaphragm, though she managed to pull a concerned mask over her face. It was too early to look smug, nevertheless her voice was as smooth and golden as melted butter 'Is something wrong?' 'Not if you discount the fact that I'm about to murder my brother.' He gave her a suitably threatening

smile. 'You made me an offer once. I'm here to take you up on it. This weekend I've decided to be your trinket. Reciprocal arrangement's - remember? God knows, you paid enough for the privilege.' 'So I did.' His eyes became incensed when she grinned slightly. 'I imagine you conveniently forgot to mention it to my brother.' Gritted teeth, no less! 'I'm here to do that.' Magnificent! She didn't say a word when he headed for the stairs and took them two at a time, merely moved into the kitchen and plugged in the kettle. 'Did you check under all the beds?' she inquired sweetly when he came back down. 'And what about the wardrobe? He might be dangling from a hanger.' 'Witch.' His growl sent tingles rioting through her. 'You're alone. Why has Andrew left his car here?' 'He and Anne have flown to Sydney for the weekend.' 'Anne?' He looked startled. 'My mother was under the impression Andrew was visiting you.' 'Why would she think that?' Because Andrew had planted it in her mind deliberately, knowing she'd tell Patrick, knowing Patrick would eventually act on it. She grinned. Andrew might be quiet and gentle but he was just as devious as Patrick. Hadn't he kept his romance with Anne a secret from them all. The affection Ellie had always felt for Andrew doubled. 'What's so funny?' She slid a cup of coffee towards him. 'Did Bronwyn send you to rescue Andrew from my clutches, or was it your own idea?' 'Stop being sarcastic.' Water dripped into his coffee from his hair. 'I don't need reminding I've made a fool of myself.' His fingers curled around the cup for warmth. 'As soon as I've had this I'll get out of your hair.' Like hell he would! 'I don't think so, Patch.' Fraction by fraction her heart picked up speed. 'You owe me.' He eyes flicked to her face. 'I'll pretend you never said that.' 'And I'll pretend you never stormed in here breathing fire and brimstone.' The smile she gave him was bitter. 'We can go through life pretending we never met - never made love. If you pretend hard enough you might convince yourself you'll be happy without me.' 'I might.' Pain etched his features as he rose to his feet. 'I did it before.' 'Why would you want to do it a second time?' She sensed his weakness and closed in on it. 'It's yourself

you're punishing, isn't it? You blame yourself for what happened to Todd. You don't believe you deserve to be happy.' His eyes assumed a wary, haunted look as her words sank in. 'It's nothing to do with my money or background ... ' she said gently. '... nothing to do with revenge. You hate the way you are and haven't got the honesty to admit it. You're an emotional cripple, Patch Morgan.' Torn between guilt and love her voice became a raw whisper. 'I don't know why I love you.' She'd pushed as far as she dared. His breath was ragged, his jaw so tight with tension she was scared it would snap. Time to beat a hasty retreat. 'I'll get you some blankets,' she murmured, making a careful detour around him. 'You can sleep on the couch. It's too late to go home tonight.' She was trembling when she slipped back into bed. Would he still be here in the morning, or had she lost him? Her heart ached for him, and despair churned a heavy hand through her emotions. A sob gathered its force together in her chest. Burying her face in the pillow she cried herself back to sleep. *** The smell of grilling bacon brought her out of darkness. A mug on the bedside table swam like a miracle into her unwilling vision. The grotesque goblin on the side grinned at her, and stream writhed an invitation from its rim. It was her own special mug. Had Patrick guessed, or was he just being sarcastic? She took it to the bathroom with her and swigged its contents before showering, then shrugged into her red wool outfit and sauntered downstairs. Blue eyes carefully scanned her face. 'You have rings under your eyes. Didn't you sleep well?' She shrugged. 'I had a guilty conscience.' 'I can imagine.' He nodded towards the chair. 'Sit down and I'll serve you breakfast.' Why was he being nice? Her mind clicked into fantasy mode. Weed killer in the tea? She frowned. That would be a woman's weapon. He'd be more direct. He'd look her in the eyes whilst he throttled her. 'I know that look, Ellie. You're scheming.' 'I was wondering what method you'd use if you intended to murder me.' 'I'd pour cement over you and make you part of a floor.' He grinned as if relishing the thought. 'That way I'd be able to walk all over you.' Setting the breakfast on the table he took the opposite seat. 'There was a phone call for you a couple of hours ago. The man left a message.' Ellie felt sick. 'I don't think I want to hear it.' 'I don't imagine he'll ring again.' His finger traced a line down one of hers. 'Does it happen often?' Faced with his concern she experienced a delicious sense of vulnerability. 'Since that report about the money appeared in the paper I've been plagued with sick letters and phone calls. The latest batch is on

the sideboard if you want to read them.' He took her at her word whilst she ate her breakfast. A variety of emotions scarred the disgust on his face when he read the first one. 'I think I get the drift.' His hands fanned the letters out. 'The scent of money seems to bring out the worst in people.' 'Yes.' Recognizing her aunt's crabbed writing she extracted a letter from the pack. 'You can burn the rest.' 'I guess I deserve to be lumped with the rest of these perverts.' His self-disgust startled her and brought pain to her eyes. 'You made it quite clear that money was a turn-off for you.' 'I misjudged your motives.' A wry smile played across his mouth. 'My ego got in the way of my good sense.' 'It seems to do that a lot.' Heart soaring at the unexpected admission, she flipped him a grin. 'Perhaps it's a good time to tell you I still have a small legacy stashed away. My mother left it for me.' 'Small I can handle.' Grinning back at her, he rose to his feet. Alarm chased her grin away. 'You're not leaving, are you?' 'I'm going to get Todd's picture from the car. He insisted I give it to you.' 'How is he?' 'Missing you.' He smiled. 'I took your advice and enrolled him in preschool. He loves it.' Ellie ripped her aunt's letter open after he'd gone. She started to laugh. Enclosed with a note of apology was the last page of her star chart. Her spirits rose as her eyes scanned the page. Anxiously she glanced at the calendar. July the eighteenth. A proposal from a Scorpio may not be all it appears. A little magic will provide the answer. What was that supposed to mean? She hastily shoved the paper in the drawer when she heard him returning. 'You've framed it.' Slanting him a glance she asked the question uppermost in her mind. 'Did you show it to his counselor?' Patrick raised an eyebrow. 'She told me the drowning man represents his past.' There was a slight hesitation and a clearing of his throat as he set the picture on the table. 'The rest of the picture is how he sees his future. Todd loves you, he wants you to be his mother. I guess it's not a bad idea at that.' He took a deep breath. 'You said you wanted to marry and have a family, and my mother thinks you're just the person he needs. What do you think?' That he'd have to come up with a better reason to back up his proposal. Did he really think she'd marry him to provide Todd with a mother? Of all the cold-blooded - idiotic - mercenary ....! She clamped a lid on her dismay and muttered faintly. 'Words fail me, Patrick. I'll think about it.'

'No rush.' Was that relief on his face? Not so fast, Patch - you don't get off the hook that easily. 'I'll let you know tonight.' Her smile was whipped cream, her voice syrup. 'You'll stay for dinner? I've been taking cooking lessons - I need a victim to practice on.' He winced. 'I should explain that I can't offer you much until my business gets off the ground. We'd have to rent a house. You'll probably have to work in the office until I can afford staff.' He was beginning to sound desperate. 'Have you ever used a computer?' 'If the need arises I can do a course. If I need to learn how to lay bricks you can teach me, and if you want a plumber you could take me on as an apprentice. I'm fairly adaptable. In fact ...' She poked him in the chest. 'I could possible grow wings and fly without a broomstick if I put my mind to it. Now, shut up! I have to go to the market.' 'I'll hang around here,' he muttered, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else but here. And escape from my clutches? No way, Patch! 'I thought you might take me out to lunch and carry the shopping home.' She choked out a laugh. 'Call it a course in husbandry. You might need it if I accept your romantic proposal.' The sardonic expression reasserted itself. 'I get the message. You want more than my son, you're after my blood.' Taking her hand in his he placed a kiss in the palm. 'Will that do for a start?' 'I can think of a better place for it.' 'So can I,' he growled, his smile bringing colour to her cheeks. 'But if you want to go out shopping you'll have to wait to find out exactly where.' *** After the market Ellie headed for Little Bourke Street in Chinatown to shop for the authentic spices her recipe needed. She'd left Patrick in the foyer of the restaurant where they intended to lunch. Checking her watch. she handed her list of ingredients to the grinning little man behind the counter and looked round her in fascination. There were coolie hats, millet brooms, and various dried bits and pieces hanging from strings. The pungent odor of the place wasn't unpleasant, but it made her throat tickle. A brightly colored dragon kite with a long tail caught her eye and she added it to her purchases. Todd would love it. Just about to pay the bill, she spotted a string of tiny muslin bags hanging from a hook. 'What's in those?' The shopkeeper gave a cackle. 'Very good magic, lady. You want man - you put in drink - you get man.' Magic will provide the answer. She grinned. It was too much of a coincidence. 'I'll take one.'

'Todd will think it's his birthday,' Patrick said when she showed him the kite. 'He'll love it.' 'When is his birthday?' 'He'll be five in October.' The touch of devilment in Patrick's smile belied the innocence of his eyes. 'He's a Libran, didn't I tell you?' They ate a leisurely lunch. When it was over, she detoured to Williamstown. 'Nice bay ... ' he remarked, '... and a pretty place.' He smiled at her, his eyes questioning. 'I can't believe you brought me here to admire the Victorian architecture.' 'I wanted you to see the house I grew up in.' She drew the car to a halt in front of a modest house. 'My parents bought this when they were first married.' Patrick gave her a thoughtful look. 'I was under the impression you grew up in a mansion surrounded by servants.' 'That just shows how wrong you can be.' She turned to faced him. 'Despite making a lot of money from real estate my father never forgot his humble beginnings. He loved this house because he loved my mother. When she died, he hired a woman to do the housework and care for me during the week. At weekends, he looked after me himself.' Her eyes were drawn to the garden. 'The last two years of his life he hardly went into his office. He used to potter around the garden. When he died, he was pruning the rose bushes my mother had planted.' She tore her eyes away and started the car. 'I imagine he would have been thinking of her when he died.' 'Thanks for telling me.' Patrick's voice was soft. 'It must bring back painful memories.' 'No.' Her smile became tender and her voice dropped to a whisper. 'Being loved can never be painful.' *** 'Nice meal, Ellie. what did you say that dish was called?' 'Gwo Lo Yook.' 'Show off.' In the candlelight Patrick's face was relaxed. 'Can you say it in English?' 'Fried pork in sweet and sour sauce.' She gave him her most beguiling smile. 'Would you like some more wine?' 'What's your hurry? I haven't finished this one yet.' She held her breath as he picked it up and sniffed it. 'It smells a bit odd.' 'Mine's all right.' She offered encouragement by sipping her own. 'You haven't added anything?' he murmured, suspicion clouding his eyes. 'Only a Chinese love potion.' It was easy to look innocent when one didn't lie.

'I think I'd prefer coffee, Eloise,' he drawled. 'Coward.' She rose to her feet and crossed to the percolator. 'I can't let that go unchallenged.' He picked up his glass as she turned. 'Let's drink a toast to love potions.' The wine left a sharp after-taste in her mouth, but it was pleasantly relaxing. She was still relaxed after they'd cleared the dishes away. Inserting a romantic tape into the player she joined him on the couch and took the biggest gamble she'd ever taken. 'I've decided to turn down your proposal.' Incredulity chased the smile from his face. 'You don't mean it! After what's happened between us you can't mean it.' 'I'm surprised you consider our compatibility in bed a sound basis for marriage.' Amusement flared in his eyes. 'It was more then just sex, as you damned well know.' His finger stroked fullness into her bottom lip. 'You're playing games, Eloise. You've been playing them all day. If you don't intend to marry me, why the love-potion?' The candle spluttered as he gazed into her eyes. 'I don't need a love-potion to remind me what my feelings are for you. It happened exactly as Vera said.' 'How exactly was that?' Ellie felt herself glowing with a positively witch-like triumph. 'I don't recall you telling me.' 'Probably because I didn't.' His wary regard of her made her want to laugh. 'You're not making things easy for me.' 'Just tell me,' she encouraged, winding one of his dark curls around her finger. 'That you were who I'd been searching for all my life - that as soon as I saw you I would fall in love with you?' He grinned. 'Vera said it was Karma ... and no matter how much I fought against it, everything seemed to conspire to bring us together - even you.' His grin became rueful. 'I've never met anyone quite so determined before. You rubbed my face in the dirt then forced me to take a good, long look at my future. So, my green-eyed witch, I've decided I can't go through life without you. I intend to have you, and I won't take no for an answer.' Who said love potions didn't work? Snuggling her head into his shoulder Ellie breathed a sigh of utter happiness into his ear. 'The love potion I bought was worth every cent just to hear you say that.' 'I swapped the drinks.' He tipped her face up to his and gently kissed her waiting mouth. 'I don't need a potion to tell you I love you.' 'Is that why I'm feeling so ... so?' 'Loving?' he prompted hungrily, his arms pulling her closer. 'And sensuous ... and ... adventurous.'

'That's odd.' The smoky passion in his voice was mirrored in his eyes. 'I feel exactly the same way.' Not that odd, Ellie thought, surrendering to the devastation of his kiss. Weaving spells had turned out to be as chancy a business as love - so she'd added the potion to both their drinks. After all, what harm could a little touch of magic do?

THE END

IN BED WITH THE ENEMY

Janet Woods

CHAPTER ONE

Darcie turned her face towards the rapidly darkening sky as the taxi drove away. As the salty wind whipped her long dark air into strands, an echo of her father's words came into her mind. 'Where else but in Australia could you get a view like this? I've got plans for this place, Darcie. We'll extend it. We'll add some holiday accommodation with a tea room and souvenir shop.' Now the man who'd raised her from childhood had been dead this past six months, and his dreams would never come about. At one stage she'd considered remaining in England with her mother, but she'd seen so little of her mother since childhood that they were virtually strangers, and her love for Australia had driven her back once she'd got over the worst of her grief. Dashing the tears from her eyes she inhaled a deep ozone-charged breath of air, then picked up her case and turned towards the rusty wrought iron gate set in an archway of a tall green privet hedge - behind which the garden sloped down towards the beach and dunes, allowing an uninterrupted view of the infinite reaches of the Indian Ocean. Kicking the gate open she walked into the garden. Once there, her expression changed into complete and utter bewilderment. 'Good God! Somebody's stolen the house?' Before her, where the house and garden had once been, was a stretch of bare bulldozed earth.

'There must be something wrong with my eyes,' she muttered, blinking experimentally a couple of times. The house didn't materialize, which wasn't surprising, because not even a weed marred the awesome perfection of what seemed to have become a prime building site overlooking the ocean. 'This must be Colin's doing,' she whispered. 'How could he? He knows how much the place means to me. ' It was typical of her cousin to ride roughshod over her feelings. Colin was twelve years older than her, married with two children. He'd come into her life when he was about twelve, an orphan placed in the care of his uncle. They'd never seen eye to eye over anything. I'm going to kill him by slow torture, she promised herself as she turned back towards the gate. I'll hang him up by his tongue and pluck every hair from his body with a pair of tweezers. After that I'll drive hot darning needles under his toe-nails and - 'Ouch!' Dropping her case she clasped her injured foot, hopping around on the other until the pain lessened to a dull throb and her lop-sided stance put her in grave danger of falling over. Once recovered, she scraped away the sand from the metal notice with the point of her shoe. Leon Price. Property developer. The phone number was that of the Argyle Inn, the most exclusive hotel just on the outskirts of town - the one that had been up for sale just before she left. Leon Price must have bought it. Her eyes narrowed into flinty, dark blue slits. They'd met before. She'd been sixteen when he'd come to the house, all arrogance and good looks, flashing his check book under her father's nose. He'd wanted to buy the land but her father refused to sell. Her father had been out the second time he'd called. Leon Price had been charming, talking to her like a adult instead of a gawky teenager with braces on her teeth. It was then she'd experienced the first stirrings of hero worship. He'd had a splendid mustache, she remembered - and had looked a bit like Burt Reynolds, her favorite film star. Well she was no longer sixteen, she was twenty-four, and Burt Reynolds no longer held a special place in her heart. She scowled. 'I hope you're in residence, Leon Price, because I'm coming to see you right now. If you think you're developing my property, you can think again.' *** Relaxing after a bumpy flight from Sydney, Leon crossed one long leg over the other and stared at the fire flickering through his whisky glass. He liked this green south-west corner of Western Australia, liked the tall Jarrah forest surrounding it, being able to have a fire in April and listening to rain pelting against the window. It reminded him of England, a country he'd left behind fourteen years previously, but which he remembered with a fond sort of nostalgia at times like this. He hoped Helen would like it here as much as he did. A tiny frown forked between his eyes. The site he'd bought was one he'd been after for years. It was perfect for the house he had in mind, and the Argyle Inn would provide his income. It had cost him a fortune, and was a long way from the bright lights of the city - and whether Helen approved of him dissolving his partnership with her brother or not, he intended to do just that and completely change his life style. He wondered if she'd be able to find the hotel, and wished she'd flown down as he'd asked. But not

Helen. She'd bought herself a brand new sports car, and insisted the drive was just what she needed to try it out. His glance strayed to the bed and his smile came then, one of wicked anticipation. Helen's sensuous beauty and unpredictability kept him totally enthralled. This last month had seemed a long time without her, but in a short time she'd be herewith him. A small velvet covered box sat on the table. It contained an engagement ring, exquisitely designed and outrageously priced - because Helen had a discerning eye and cost meant quality to her. After they'd made love he intended to propose to her. At the age of thirty-four Leon knew he was better off than most. He was through with property development, though - a decision he'd reached quite suddenly after he'd bought the Argyle Inn and was offered the shack at Petrel Point. It was a perfect spot to settle in. He'd decided it was time for him to slow down, to get married and raise a family. Running the Argyle would be a breeze after the up's and down's of property development. The Inn was staffed by locals, none of whom wanted to lose their jobs - and the chef was beyond compare. Glancing at his watch, he uncoiled to his feet and stretched. Dinner was served in the dining room at seven. Seafood straight from the ocean, still tasting of the sea. His mouth began to water as he kicked his suitcase behind a chair. He'd unpack it later. 'When my guest arrives show her to my room, Shirley,' he told the receptionist on the way through. With approval, Leon noticed the restaurant was crowded. The place was renown for its seafood, and he made a mental note to give the chef a rise, as well as offer the young kitchen-hand the apprenticeship he was after, if the chef approved. He nodded and smiled at a young couple who'd arrived that morning and were honeymooning for the week. After giving his order to the waitress he settled back in his seat and gazed around him with well deserved satisfaction. Yes, he thought, being "mine host " of the Argyle Inn will suit me just fine. The place runs like clockwork. Nothing, and no-one will persuade me to enter the rat race again - not even Helen. Just then Shirley came hurrying to his side. 'I'm sorry to disturb you Mister Price. Harry's on the phone. His wife's gone into premature labor, and there's a couple to be picked up from the airport at nine. Shall I ask Pete to fetch them?' 'No, he's needed in the kitchen. ' He smiled at her as he rose to his feet. 'Tell Harry not to worry, I'll pick them up. Order some flowers to be delivered to the hospital for his wife in the morning.' He spared a quick glance at the honeymooners, who were gazing with barely disguised hunger into each other's eyes across the table. A grin flitted across his mouth. 'And deliver a complimentary bottle of champagne to the table of the honeymooners, would you?' *** If Darcie hadn't been jet-lagged, she wouldn't have minded the rain, nor the long walk back to the inn, despite the fact that her suitcase felt as though it was full of wet cement.

Her fury at her cousin's duplicity and Leon Price's greed, was unrelenting. If Leon Price imagined she'd meekly sign papers handing over the land to him, he could think twice - and she wanted reparation for the house. And where was the furniture, her personal belongings - and her dog? If Colin had done anything to harm Wee Georgie, she'd personally take her cousin along to the vet and have him. . . ? Her mouth stretched into a mirthless grin. Well, perhaps she wouldn't go quite that far. He did have his good points, it's just that she couldn't think of any at the moment. She could see how this had come about. Colin shared the same name as her father. Her cousin must have used that fact to his own advantage - and Leon Price must have been in on it. "Damn Leon Price. I'll rip his Burt Reynolds mustache off when I catch up with him. " Soaked through, frozen almost solid, and with only her seething fury for inner warmth, Darcie was relieved when the lights of the inn came into view. She didn't know how reception would regard her appearance, and didn't really care as she marched up to the desk and demanded to see Leon Price. 'Oh yes. Mister Price is expecting you. 'The woman's mouth dropped open a fraction. 'You poor thing, you're soaked through. Never mind, you'll have time to get a warm bath and change into dry clothes before he gets back.' 'Gets back from where? How long is he going to be?' 'At least two hours. He's gone to the airport . . . and him just back from Sydney. He didn't even have time for dinner.' I hope he starves to death on the way back. The woman took a key from a hook. 'Your room is just along the corridor. Make yourself at home. Shall I get you some dinner sent in? You must be starving after your long trip. Oh . . . and please leave your luggage there. I'll ask one of the staff to bring it along.' 'I can manage it myself, thanks. ' Darcie hesitated for a moment, slightly disarmed by the friendly welcome. Leon Price was obviously expecting her, and intended to give her the star treatment. She was too tired and cold to argue. Okay, so she'd accept his hospitality, but it wouldn't make one scrap of difference. Leon Price could use all the charm at his disposal - and from what she'd remembered of him he had plenty of that. Her anger returned, but there was something despairing about it and she wanted to cry. People like Leon Price, who had connections and wealth always managed to get what they set their greedy little eyes on but not this time. Oh no . . . he wasn't going to get her land, whatever he offered her. Both he and his damned development company could get lost! "No dinner thanks,' she told the receptionist. 'I'll just get showered and go to bed. ' Half an hour later she wrapped herself in a thick luxurious robe she found hanging behind the bathroom door and sat in front of the fire whilst her hair dried.

The warmth of the room was insidious, and soon her eyelids began to droop. The bed was king-sized, totally inviting, and suddenly irresistible. Why should I stay awake and wait for Leon Price to turn up? she asked herself. I want nothing from him. As far as she was concerned he could wait until she was ready to see him. Hanging a, do not disturb, sign on the door, she tossed the robe aside, crawled under the sheets, and within seconds was fast asleep. *** Leon wondered where Helen had left her car as he hurried along to his room. The receptionist had told him she was drenched when she'd arrived, so she must have broken down somewhere along the road. She'd be furious, of course. Helen was not a woman to rough it under any circumstances. He hesitated when he saw the sign hanging on the door, then plucked it from the handle and threw it aside. Surely this wasn't meant for him - and if it was -he grinned as he inserted his key in the lock. No doubt she'd expect him to ignore it. The room was lit only by the dim light of the dying fire. Through the alcove he could just see her outlined under the covers. She was on her side, her long dark hair covering her face. 'Helen,' he whispered as he moved towards her, but she didn't stir. Her breath was an even rise and fall as he bent to kiss the top of her head, and he admitted surprise that a woman who constantly burned the candle at both ends should be tired enough to fall asleep at such an early hour. The country air must have had a beneficial effect on her. Leon knew better than to try and wake her. She would have taken a sleeping pill. Experience had taught him, that when woken from a drug-induced sleep, Helen's disposition resembled that of a feral cat. So he went back to the hotel kitchen and ate the meal that had been kept warm for him, then chatted to the chef about an apprenticeship for Peter, who studiously scrubbed at pots and pans, all the while with one ear cocked towards them and an anxious look in his eyes. Leon tossed Peter a grin, and called out to the chef as he left. 'You'll be needing a new kitchen hand shortly, then. I'll put an advert in the local paper. ' Striding back to his suite he took a quick shower then slid into the bed beside Helen. She'd lost a bit of weight, he thought, as he snuggled against her warm naked body. She mumbled something ferociously uncomplimentary when he kissed her ear and he backed off. Okay, I can take a hint. But in the morning when that sleeping pill has worn off . . ? He turned over to his side, resisting the urge to toss and turn whilst he tried to conquer the rising desire in his body. After a while he rose and padded to the bathroom. This time the shower he took was savagely cold and brief -but it did the trick. On his way back to the bed he took the engagement ring from the box. It was exquisite, he thought, ignoring the reservations gnawing at his gut as he slipped it on her finger. Helen had expressed her admiration for the perfect heart-shaped diamond ring herself when she'd spied it in a jewelers window.

Helen had taste, albeit a fairly expensive one. Leon yawned as he turned his back on her. In fact, Helen had everything a man needed in a woman. She was beautiful, witty, sensual . . . if a little bit selfish. Ah well, nobody was perfect, even himself. He was a lucky guy . . . a very lucky guy, he was thinking as he began to drift off. Before him stretched a future every man dreamed of. He - Leon Price, who'd stepped ashore in this country just a few short years before with nothing but dreams in his pocket - would soon have the woman sleeping by his side as a wife. Not only that, by this time next year he'd be living in a house he'd designed and built himself, on that wonderful stretch of land overlooking the sea at Petrel Point. In time, he and Helen would produce the family he'd always wanted. They'd have a dog running around the yard and a thriving business to run - and they'd all live happily ever after - exactly as he'd planned . . .

CHAPTER TWO Happily ever after was not Leon's immediate concern when he woke just before dawn. Helen's long leg was draped over his thigh, her arm had wound through the curve of his waist and lay lightly against his stomach. He could feel her breath drifting through the perfumed silk of her hair, soft and warm against his shoulder. He caressed her silky, smooth thigh. It seemed leaner somehow, firmer - as if she'd been exercising. Immediately, his body began to assert its male prerogative. He turned in her embrace, and nuzzling his lips through the curtain of hair covering her face took her mouth in a kiss designed to bring her into lustful consciousness. Her response was delightfully immediate, her mouth responding with a sensuous softness that surprised him. Helen didn't usually enjoy making love in the morning, yet she snuggled compliantly against him. She must have missed him more than he'd imagined. Then she suddenly stiffened. Her hands came against his chest and she pushed him away with considerable force before scrambling to a sitting position with the sheet clutched protectively in front of her. Flicking the hair back from her face in one movement, she stared at him from shocked blue eyes and hissed with the false bravado of a cornered cat. 'Who the hell are you?' Now it was his turn to scramble upright and clutch at the sheet. God, did he need something to cover himself at that moment! There was a bit of a tussle for possession, with both of them locking eyes and glaring at each other. Eventually, might of muscle won and she was forced to snatch up a pillow to cover her obvious charms. Harshly, he said. 'What is more to the point - who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my bed?' 'Would you believe, Goldilocks?'

'This is no time for sarcasm. I'd be quite within my rights to call security. We don't allow women of your type in the inn, so get out of my bed and go and ply your trade elsewhere. ' Darcie's face began to burn, but she refused to let her terror show. 'Listen, you poor excuse for a rat. It was you who was mauling me. I happen to be a guest of Leon Price. ' Her hand reached out to the bedside table and snatched the receiver from its rest. 'If you don't get out by the time I count to ten, I'll ask reception to ring the police and have you arrested for attempted rape. ' 'Go ahead. ' His glanced wandered down her long shapely legs as she began to dial. There was something vaguely familiar about her. 'You forgot to count. ' 'Nine . . . ten . . . I counted silently. ' She kept a watchful blue eye on him as she spoke. 'This is Darcie Channing. I'm a friend of Leon Price's. Would you call the police station, please. There's an intruder in my room. ' She had guts, he'd give her that much. His smile was an ironic slice as he drawled. 'The reception desk isn't manned until eight, and I'm Leon Price. ' Impossibly, her eyes became even larger, and even though they were undecided she managed a disbelieving snort. 'Leon Price has a mustache. ' He grinned slightly, recalling the mustache he'd grown in his twenties in an effort to appear mature. So she went back that far. 'I can't recall ever setting eyes on you before, but the name's slightly familiar. Perhaps you'd like to see my credentials. ' 'I've seen enough of your credentials to last me a lifetime,' she snapped back, then incredibly, she blushed. There was something about her that made Leon grin. Perhaps it was the pillow clutched against her. She was a smooth fluid curve of shoulders, hips, thighs and calves around a small oblong of white - almost like a modernist sculpture. 'I take it we've met before, Darcie Channing. ' When she worried at her bottom lip and didn't answer, he prompted mockingly. 'Perhaps we had a one-night stand in the past, and you enjoyed it so much you've come back for seconds?' Darcie felt like dying of embarrassment as she met a pair of amused gray eyes, and she clutched the pillow tighter to her body. 'You've got to be joking. ' He raised one dark ,dark eyebrow. 'No, I'm not joking. You look just the type of woman I'd go for. ' 'Make one move towards me and I'll scream blue murder. ' 'Likewise. ' Darcie's mouth twitched up at the corner as she tried not to laugh at his answer. Being in bed with the enemy was no laughing matter.

There was something appealing about the woman despite her profession, Leon was thinking, so what was she up to? 'Am I to take it someone is about to burst through the door with a camera? If you've got blackmail on your mind, forget it. ' 'The very last thing on my mind is blackmail, Mister Price. At the moment I have a pressing need to get off this bed and get dressed. ' 'Go ahead. ' There was a grin on his face now, and her insides fluttered like a salad being tossed. It was obvious she'd have to reason with him. 'Mister Price. I came here to talk to you - and for no other reason. I'm not the type of woman you seem to think I am. ' He was impossible! Her glance went to the sheet. If she snatched it off him fast . . . ? 'Don't even think about it. " A warning glint of arctic gray came her way before his dark eyelashes closed again. 'Talk, lady - and make it fast. ' The fury Darcie had experienced the night before was impossible to rekindle when dressed only in a pillow. He had her at a disadvantage - and knew it! Taking a deep breath she flung the pillow at his face, leaped out of bed and dived for the robe she'd left on the chair. It was safely wrapped around her when she turned to face him. 'Now we can talk!' Someone rapped on the door. 'Don't you dare open it. ' The sudden start of alarm on his face nearly made her laugh. Was he kidding? It was the breakfast she'd ordered - and breakfast meant a waiter - and a waiter meant safety. She made the door in five seconds flat and opened it a crack, inviting. 'Come in. ' Leon Price groaned. Darcie caught a glimpse of a pair of vicious green eyes and a red-slashed mouth. The next minute she was sent sprawling backwards as the door was pushed in her face. 'It's not what it looks like, Helen,' Leon Price was saying desperately as Darcie scrambled up from the floor. 'No?' Helen was some riled-up lady, Darcie noticed as the woman whipped the crumpled sheet from Leon's body with the finesse of a matador waving a cape at the bull. 'Ahah!' Helen cried out. Ole! Darcie thought, her eyes widening a fraction. Leon's hands protectively covered himself. He had the desperate look of an animal about to be gelded,

and Helen was obviously the type of woman with the disposition to do it. Darcie suddenly felt sorry for him. 'You're making a big mistake if you think-' 'Shut up you cheap little tramp. I'll deal with you, after. ' Helen's eyes were armed lasers. One glance, and Darcie was vaporized. That's what you think, lady I'm not about to be mauled by a female with nails as long as yours - or get involved in something that isn't my business! Discretion getting the better of valor Darcie picked up her case and headed for the bathroom. For safety's sake she shot the bolt on the door and turned on the shower so she didn't have to be a witness to Leon Price's murder. Ten minutes later when the shouting had died down, she pulled a raspberry colored sweater over her head, then tearing the wrapping from a complimentary toothbrush scrubbed noisily at her teeth. She nodded in approval as Leon's voice rose above that of Helen's. 'This is the last time I ask you. ' 'You must be mad if you think I'm going to give up my friends and live in this dump of a place. I hadn't realized you were quite so drearily provincial. If you want a wife and children you can marry that cheap little trick you shacked up with last night. She'll probably jump at the chance. ' Darcie gave her reflection a toothpasty grimace, rinsed her mouth and spat the water down the plug-hole. 'I might just do that, Helen. ' And a canine chorus might sing The Messiah at the Sydney opera house! 'Go ahead. ' Helen's voice was one big sneer. 'You'd better warn her though. Every time I snap my fingers the great Leon Price will come running back to my bed. You see, Leon darling. The thing I find quite divine about you is your ability to -' Darcie hastily stuck her fingers in her ears, and only deemed it safe to remove them when the sound of a slamming door reverberated through the bathroom. She waited for a few minutes, giving him time to compose himself, then poked her head around the corner. 'Is it safe to come out?' Water dripped from his crisp, dark hair. She reached for a towel and threw it at him. 'Thanks,' he grunted, applying it to his head as he glared at her. There were roses all over the pillow and a vase still spouting water on to the middle of the bed. 'Helen doesn't muck about, does she?' She couldn't decide whether his lip movement was a snarl, a grimace or a grin. At least he's more or less dressed, she thought deciding to risk it anyway, as, case in hand, she strolled casually out of the bathroom and towards the door - but he looks as mad as a nest of hornets! She winced as he savagely zipped up his jeans.

'Where do you think you're going?' 'To chase up my cousin. I can ring for a taxi from the phone box down the road. ' 'You're not going anywhere until this is sorted out. You worm your way into my room - sleep in my beddestroy my life, then expect me to let you walk away as if nothing has happened. Get real, lady. ' 'Perhaps I should make an appointment to see you after your disposition improves. ' A battle went on his eyes, then he frowned ominously and his forefinger stabbed at a chair. 'Sit!' She sat. Just then breakfast arrived -born by a waitress Darcie vaguely remembered from her school days. 'It's Jean isn't it. Jean Edwards?' 'Darcie Channing? I'd heard you'd gone to England. ' She threw a nervous glance at Leon who was gazing out of the window. 'Did you want me to open the champagne you ordered, Mister Price - or will you do it?' 'Just leave it. ' 'Congratulations,' Jean whispered, staring down at Darcie's hand. 'I never realized it was you. What a lovely engagement ring? You are lucky. Wait until I tell the others I went to school with you. ' Darcie stared stupidly at the heart shaped diamond on her finger. Where the hell had that materialized from? 'I'm sorry about your father,' Jean said. 'It must have been a shock. ' Leon came between them, his voice even with no evidence of temper in it. 'I'll finish off, Jean. ' 'Congratulations, sir. ' 'Thank you. ' Leon ushered her firmly to the door. 'Has Harry's wife had the baby yet?' 'Oh yes, just after midnight. A little girl. They're calling her Rose. ' 'Tell him congratulations, and I'll expect a cigar when he comes in. ' He closed the door behind Jean, leaned against the panel and gazed reflectively at her. "Now I know why your name is familiar. I bought that old shack at Petrel Point from someone called Channing. You were that skinny kid who got her tongue caught in her braces when I visited the second time. ' The reminder brought a scowl to her face. 'You stole the land, you mean. That shack was my home mine and my father's. My cousin had no authority to sell it as soon as my father died. ' Leon's face tightened for a second. 'I assure you, the deal was completely above board. It was handled by my lawyer. ' 'Then either your lawyer is as crooked as my cousin, or the three of you are in cahoots. ' She shot to her

feet. 'Whichever it is, I intend to get to the bottom of it. Then I'm going to take you to court. I want my land back, my house back, all my belongings, and Wee Georgie.' 'Wee Georgie?' There was something totally attractive about the quizzical frown he gave. His looks hit her in the guts like a sledgehammer. She sucked in her stomach muscles to steel herself against them. No man should be as attractive as this one. 'Wee Georgie is my dog. ' 'Ah . . . ' A small lopsided smile curved one side of his mouth into a dimple. 'For a moment, I thought he might have been your son. ' She waved her hand at him. 'As you can see I'm not mar . . . ' The diamond in the ring caught the light. 'Would you mind telling me what this is, and how it got on my finger? I'm positive I didn't steal it. ' 'It's an engagement ring. I put it there when we were in bed together last night. ' 'Very funny. ' A thought suddenly struck her. 'Why did you give Jean the impression we were engaged? Oh, my God!' Her hand flew to her mouth. 'She's going to tell everyone. ' 'Look at it this way, Darcie,' he drawled. 'It will provide a credible reason for you being in my room. ' 'I happened to be here on a business matter. Is it my fault your receptionist mistook me for that . . . that -' 'Helen?' 'Yes, her. ' She gave him a searching glance. 'Look, I'm sorry she got the wrong idea. Perhaps if I went to see her and explained. ' 'She'd swallow you in one bite. ' 'That would make two of us?' He shrugged, his eyes searching her face. 'I suppose it was understandable under the circumstances. How much did you overhear?' 'As little as possible, but it was hard not to hear some of it. ' She traced a pattern on the table with her fingernail. 'If you ask me you'd be safer swimming with a tank full of piranhas than married to her. ' 'I didn't ask you, but I think you could be right,' he said, his words accompanied by a delicious little smile that made her want to giggle. 'Let's be civilized. First we'll eat breakfast and drink the champagne. After that, I'll phone my lawyer and you can phone your cousin. We'll arrange a meeting and sort things out. ' She stared at him long and hard. He didn't look like a crook, she had to admit - but then, she'd never met one as far as she knew. 'Yes?' he coaxed, unleashing the full charismatic force of his smile. 'I'm quite prepared to forget all about last night. '

Suddenly, forcefully, she was reminded of the way he'd kissed her awake. What had Helen said? "The thing I find divine about you is your ability to -" Darcie blushed. 'Have I said something wrong?' 'No . . of course not. 'Totally flustered she couldn't meet his eyes. 'Good. ' He set a plate in front of her. 'I hope you like cheese omelet, because that's what I ordered for us. Tell me all about yourself. Have you got a boyfriend, Darcie?' 'Not any more. ' She shrugged. 'It was a scenario similar to the one you've just been through - only it took place on the beach and there was no doubt about what the pair of them were up to. ' "Did you mind very much?' 'At the time I was heartbroken. It happened at my twenty-first birthday party - and everyone felt sorry for me because it involved my best friend. ' 'What happened to them?' 'They got married and left town. The last I heard they were perfectly happy and had a child, so it worked out for the best. ' 'You don't hold a grudge?' 'What's the point? I soon got over him. I just wished he'd been honest and told me they were in love. I don't like deceit. ' He filled up her champagne glass and smiled. 'Tell me about your father. ' So she talked about her childhood, her father's funny ways and all the happy memories in her life. Then she described her shock at finding the house demolished. He was a good listener, and seemed sympathetic. When breakfast was over she felt slightly light-headed - and she liked Leon Price a lot more than was good for her. He rang his lawyer to explained the situation, then left her to contact her cousin in private, explaining he had something to do in the meantime. 'Don't forget to ask him about Wee Georgie,' he said, just before he shut the door behind him. 'Your cousin might have put him in a boarding kennel. ' Colin's phone had been cut off, a recorded message said. It was too early to contact him at the bank, so she rang the kennels in the district and was rewarded on the third try. She couldn't wait to see Georgie. 'Would it be possible for you to deliver him right away? I'll pay the outstanding account when he arrives. How much is owed?' Her eyes widened a fraction, but she knew she had enough cash in her purse - just. Later, she'd go to the bank.

Wee Georgie arrived within ten minutes and was handed to her at the end of the drive, where she anxiously waited. After the excitement of reunion was over she took him back to the room. It really was nice of Leon to suggest she could collect him from the kennels. The breakfast tray had been cleared and the damp bedding changed, but the remains of the champagne was still in the ice bucket. She had a glass to celebrate, and gave the rest to Wee Georgie as a welcome back treat. There was something important she was supposed to do, but she couldn't remember what. She wasn't quite over her jet-lag, she supposed, and flopped down on the bed for a five minute rest. 'You know you shouldn't be on the bed,' she scolded sleepily as Wee Georgie snuggled up next to her. . . *** Thank God no-one had been about when Helen had made her scene and the part of the inn he occupied was empty of guests, Leon thought. The whole episode had left a nasty taste in his mouth, and it could have been embarrassing if they'd been overheard. He was still smarting at what Helen had said to him, but something good had come out of it. He realized that he'd had a lucky escape when she'd turned down his proposal. Helen was a totally selfish bitch, who today, had demonstrated what she was really like. She'd said straight out that she had no intention of spoiling her figure by having children - and if he dissolved the partnership with her brother she'd finish with him for good. But that's what he'd instructed his lawyer to do this morning. Helen's brother had never pulled his weight, and now he knew why. Helen controlled him. Leon wasn't about to let her control him too. He was quite willing to sell if Martin wanted to buy his share - otherwise he'd buy him out. The relief he felt surprised him, and he knew now that he'd never been in love with her, or she him. Now he had another problem. Darcie Channing. He'd never met anyone like her before, and wanted to laugh every time he thought of her. Either she was crazy, or he was. Her mind seemed to fly off at a tangent at every turn. But she was a very sexy lady, for all that - and it was something to do with her naturalness. What you saw was what you got with her. There was no dishonesty or deviousness. Her emotions were written in her body language and in her eyes, exactly how he remembered her as a teenager. Only she wasn't skinny now - she was perfect. He tried not to think of her body language as he strode back through the lobby toward his room. He'd heard enough to realize she was extremely vulnerable at the moment. Her father's death had knocked her for six, and hadn't really sunk in as far as he could see, She hadn't had time to grieve, and was loaded down with imagined problems. It was ridiculous to imagine he'd cheat her out of her home - yet he experienced unease as he thought of how she must have felt to come back from England and find everything gone - even her little dog, Wee Georgie. He hoped she'd managed to track the mutt down. Darcie Channing was crying out for someone, or something to love - and she needed someone to lean on. He and Wee Georgie would make a good team if they paired up - and something might develop from

it. 'What the hell!' It looked as though a tornado had hit the room. Tables and chairs were turned over, the Venetian blind hung drunkenly from the window. His briefcase had been flung against the wall, the papers scattered. Someone had broken in. 'Darcie,' he whispered, his heart going to his mouth as he took long loping strides towards the bed. She was lying on her stomach, her head to one side. Oh my God, she's unconscious! Gently he smoothed the hair away from her face. 'Say something. Are you all right?' Her eyes opened and she subjected him to a blank stare, then awareness came into them. He froze as he heard a noise behind him. Fool, I should have checked the bathroom! flashed though his mind. He turned too late. Something large, dark and hairy tackled him from behind and knocked him flat on top of her. Flinging an arm up to defend himself he found it caught in a crocodilian grip. ' 'Drop him, Georgie!' Darcie yelled deafeningly in his ear. His arm was exchanged for a pillow which was shaken rapidly from side to side. 'Drop it, Georgie! Come here at once. ' It seemed that obedience was one of Wee Georgie's virtues. Immediately, the dog dropped the pillow and took a flying leap at the bed. After a short struggle they managed to capture him between them. Looking pleased with himself, Wee Georgie stared from one to the other, his tongue hanging out. 'Would you mind telling me exactly what this animal is?' 'An Irish Wolfhound. Isn't he great?' 'Great would adequately describe his size. It isn't exactly the word I'd use for him in a complimentary sense. Look at this room. He's demolished it. ' Her smile faded as she sat up in bed. 'I'm so sorry. Georgie is usually quite good about the house. I don't think he's been given enough exercise in the kennels, and he was excited about seeing me after all this time. I'll let him out into the garden. ' 'You most certainly will not!' Edging himself from the bed Leon stood up. 'You will call the kennels and ask them to pick him up again. I can't have that Yeti running around the hotel. He'll terrify the guests. Besides, it's against health regulations. ' Both she and Wee Georgie gave him the same dirty look, but it was she who acted as spokesperson. 'He won't be running around the hotel. I intend to call for a taxi and go to my cousin's house. ' 'Dogs are banned from cabs. It's regulations. ' 'Damn you and your stuffy regulations!' She flung her arms around the creature's neck. 'We'll walk,

won't we Georgie?' 'The word 'walk' seemed to trigger off some canine response. The dog threw back his head and uttered an ear-splitting howl. Together they left the bed, and Georgie stood quietly whilst Darcie fixed a stout plaited lead to his collar. She turned, flashing him an apologetic smile. 'Look, I really am sorry about being such a nuisance. You won't mind if I leave my case, will you? I'll get my cousin to pick it up when we come to meet your lawyer. I'll give you a call later in the day. ' 'You can't walk into town. It's ten kilometers, and the forecast is for rain again. ' Scorn flickered in her eyes. 'Ten kilometers might be a long way to you city dwellers, but it's nothing to Georgie and me. Besides, the sun is shining and there's not a cloud in the sky. I'll see you later. Don't bother to see me out. ' She was gone before he could stop her. He gazed ruefully at the wreckage of his room, then hurried after her. 'Are you sure you're up to taking a long walk. ' 'Positive, Mister Price. ' 'Call me Leon. ' Her eyes caught his. 'I really don't think I should. ' 'Why not?' 'Because I'd rather not be on friendly terms with a man I might have to take to court. ' 'May I remind you we spent the night together in the same bed?' he mocked, stung by her irrational female logic. Her eyes lightened, and she suddenly threw back her head and gave a deep throated laugh that sent prickles rioting down his spine. 'I shall never forget it. Helen must have burned all the rubber from her tires by now. Still, no doubt you'll get together again, she seemed to think you had your uses. ' Snapping her fingers under his nose she pushed open the double glass doors and was gone - leaving him burning with embarrassment as he stared after her.

CHAPTER THREE Darcie wished she hadn't been so stubbornly stupid, when an hour later clouds blotted out the sun and pile done on top of the other in gray thunderous masses. It was one thing to assert her independence, but quite another to walk ten kilometers in a thunderstorm that already muttered ominous threats in the distance.

'Damn Leon Price,' she said to Georgie. 'Why couldn't he have been middle-aged, fat and bad-tempered? I could have coped better with that. ' All the same, she wished she'd accepted his offer of a lift. Ah well . . . she'd just have to thumb it. There was bound to be some traffic along the road sooner or later. Sooner proved to be later, and long enough for the thunderstorm to come rolling in. She stood under a tree as lightning flashed and thunder grumbled - aware of the danger but forced to ignore it because the only space which was treeless, was the road. Wee Georgie pressed trembling against her leg. 'It wasn't such a good idea to walk, huh?' She caressed his head in comfort. 'Tell you what- as soon as this is over we'll go back to the inn and I'll eat a little bit of humble pie ' Then the rain started, cold, slanting needles that dropped the temperature by several degrees. Although the tree canopy they were under was dense, before too long they were both miserably damp. Then the sound of a car engine came to her ears. Uttering a short prayer of thanks she made a dash for the side of the road and waved her arms just as a white Jaguar came around the bend. The car skidded to a halt, spraying her with watery mud. Thanks a bunch! The window slid expensively down as she started to brush the mud from her sweater. 'Are you going to stand there all day? Get in.' Of course, it had to be Leon Price! Georgie was in as soon as the door opened, leaping over the front passenger seat and stretching himself comfortably across the back. 'Thanks,' Darcie muttered, unable to look at Leon as she belted herself in. 'If you had told me you intended to go into town I wouldn't have bothered walking.' 'I didn't intend to go into town. I came out specifically to find you.' 'Why?' 'How the hell do I know? One of us is crazy - and I'm beginning to think it might be me.' She flicked him a glance. He looked thoroughly disgruntled, but his eyes held a hint of wry amusement. 'Neither of us are crazy. It's just . . . ' Her eyes met his and she choked out a laugh. 'It seems to me that we met in unusual circumstances. A bedroom farce doesn't really lend itself to reality, does it?' 'I guess not. ' His glance held hers in gentle contemplation. 'You realize, I'll never be able to look at you again without remembering you naked with a pillow clutched against you.' 'And I'll never be able to look at you without seeing Helen whipping off the sheet and shouting, Ole!' 'You have a vivid imagination. I believe she said, A hah!'

Avoiding his eyes, she grinned. 'Obviously you're a man who keeps a cool head under pressure. Let's get going, Mister Price. The temperature in this car is getting a bit warm.' His chuckle poured like hot cinnamon chocolate into her ear as he put the car in motion. 'It's been warm since we met, I'd say.' That, she couldn't deny - but what about Helen? It was Helen he'd mistaken her for, Helen he'd been going to make love to. And if she hadn't stopped him . . . ? She took a deep breath as her hormones said they'd enjoyed the early morning arousal - so the rest of it would have been superb? Be quiet you lot. I don't go to bed with strangers however deprived you think you are. Besides . . . he has Helen. She'd be mad to turn a man like him down, despite what she said. I bet she'll be back. 'I suppose you and Helen will make it up eventually, huh?' 'It's highly unlikely.' 'But how can you be in love one minute and not the next? You must have loved her to propose marriage. Aren't you upset?' He appeared to think about it for a moment, then he laughed. 'Actually, I'm experiencing a strange sense of freedom.' A tiny trickle of relief rolled down her spine. 'Are you telling me you're not really the marrying kind?' 'Quite the reverse. There is nothing I'd like better. A wife and a couple of kids to come home to after a hard day's work - a comfortable home up on the point. What could be better?' 'So what are you saying? That you picked Helen for a wife and mother without really loving her?' A frown gathered between his eyes. 'I guess I must have. I got carried away with my plans for the future.' 'Which are?' 'A wife and a family. I'd really like a couple of kids ' 'So, any woman would suit your purpose ' Frown still in place he slid her a sideways glance. 'Are you offering to fill the position?' 'Hah! Not in a thousand years. ' 'Why? Is there something wrong with me?' His words threw her for a second. This sort of banter wasn't meant to be taken seriously. She sneaked him an assessing glance. Leon was healthy, wealthy and good looking in a lean hungry sort of way. He had a sense of humor and his brain seemed to be in good working order as well as his other, more basic organs. She couldn't think of one thing wrong with him - in fact she liked him. 'You happen to

be a stranger. ' 'We don't seem like strangers. ' The corner of his mouth gave a tiny ironic twitch. 'I could tell you a lot about yourself, Darcie. You're size ten. You have a mole just above your navel and a small crescent shaped scar on your left buttock. You move like greased lightning when you jump out of bed in the morning and your body language is something else. ' He flicked her a grin. 'Do you want me to go on?' A tiny blush crept under her skin. 'Not unless you have a burning need to prove how acute your powers of observation are. ' 'How did you get the scar?' 'Mind your own damned business. ' "Look Darcie. If we're going to get married I need to know you're healthy. ' 'I'm perfectly healthy,' she said tartly, then catching his grin, relaxed. 'You have too much charm for your own good, Leon Price. Be careful I don't take you up on your offer. ' He said no more on the subject -but every time he glanced her way he treated her to a tiny intimate grin, making her remember the way his kiss had aroused her from sleep, and how his lean taut body had been outlined under the sheet. He was right, they didn't seem like strangers, but that was due to some simmering physical force between them. Both had been aroused by their early morning encounter. It was imprinted on their brains, so that every time they looked at each other they remembered that the promised sexual fulfillment had been frustrated. But bodily lust didn't make for a good permanent relationship in her book. It was too urgent and demanding - too consuming. A perfect partnership should embody the heart and mind - and lead to mutual respect. She forced herself to remember that Leon Price had stolen her land and pulled down her house. Indignance replaced her growing lust. And to think he'd had the cheek to offer it back to her via marriage! But it was a thought. If all else failed she might take him up on it, become the wife from hell -then after a couple of years, divorce him and settle for half of what he owned. It would serve him right! She insisted he drop her a mile outside of town. Although the rain had stopped, there was a drifting wet mist. Georgie was reluctant to leave the car, but she dragged him out and set off down the road at a brisk pace. She'd only gone a hundred or so paces when she became aware of Leon's car purring behind her. From then on in everything in her refused to behave as normal. Her stomach gently sucked itself in, her chest thrust against her sweater and she developed a come-hither wiggle in her hips. Oh, for God's sake, grow up Darcie! You're not sixteen any more. Angrily, she turned on him. 'Will you please go away. ' He stuck his head out of the window and gave her a charming smile. 'The storm might comeback. ' 'Why should you care? If you think you'll get round me about the property at Petrel Point you can think

again. As soon as I've been to the bank and confronted my cousin, I'm going to see a lawyer. ' 'I'd like to meet your cousin - perhaps we can sort this out without going to the expense of a lawyer. ' 'We can. ' She strolled to the car window and gave him a gritty smile. 'Give me back my land and replace the house in its original state. ' 'Impossible. I paid through the nose for that land. It's now mine, and mine it's going to stay. As for that shack - the timber was so full of termites a puff of wind would have blown it over. It's gone. ' 'Good-bye, Mister Price. I'll see you in court. ' 'Actually, I expect I'll see you long before then. ' 'In your dreams,' she muttered, and leaving the road, plunged into the damp undergrowth under the trees. She waited until she heard the car drive away then emerged, and started off at a trot towards town with Georgie loping beside her. Ten minutes later the storm returned - and she wished she hadn't been so hasty. They were both dripping wet when they arrived at the bank. Darcie cursed when she discovered it was too early for anyone to be there. She shoved her card in the teller machine and punched in her pin number. For some reason it refused to accept it, and on the third try it swallowed her card. 'Stupid machine,' she muttered, then headed for her cousin's house on the other side of town. She would tell Colin to get the thing fixed. Colin's family lived in an up-market house in a nice street, as befitting Colin's status. The house actually belonged to the bank, and was one of Colin's perks along with a car. Colin had two properties of his own, bought with reduced interest mortgages. Another of his perks. One was in Perth and the other in Sydney. Both were rented out and brought him a healthy income as well as tax benefits. Her cousin was one of those people who knew exactly how to make money work to benefit himself. Unlike her father. He'd been a sucker for a sob story, giving much of his salary away to charitable organizations, or anyone with a hard luck story. He must have been a sucker to have trusted Colin, she fumed, staring at the house. The worm had turned into a viper. There was no answer to her knock. Going round to the back she stared though the French doors, her eyes straining to penetrate through the opaque curtain. It was like staring through a waterfall. Vaguely, she made out a couple of tea chest, and as her eyes adjusted saw her name written on the side of one. Colin must have brought her things back here. That was big of him! The house had the air of emptiness places get when people are away, as if it was holding its breath. The grass needed trimming, and every window was shut tight - yet Colin's car was still in the garage. Colin's wife, Anne, had always hidden a back door key under her pet rock in the flower bed - and had told Darcie she could use it to gain entry if she wasn't at home. It was still there, covered with dirt and baby snails.

She let herself in and called out Colin's name as a precaution. Nothing. The house was empty of people. The phone was dead when she tried it. All that remained of Colin's family was a pile of packed boxes and furniture. Every single personal item had been packed, every cupboard was empty. It was obvious Colin was in the process of moving house. Absconding with the loot he'd made from the sale of her father's house - for Colin wouldn't have expected her to cut her trip to England short by six weeks. Wee Georgie made himself at home on the brown velvet lounge suite. 'If nothing else I can change into some dry clothes,' she told him. Turning to one of the boxes marked with her name she prized off the lid and rummaged through the contents, realizing after a while that it was just bits and pieces she'd left behind during her baby-sitting stints. At least she was in dry clothes when the police arrived - even if the jeans were an old ripped pair splattered in paint, and the jumper had been pulled out of shape in a fight with the spin dryer. How was I to know the house was rigged with a silent alarm that connected directly to the police station? And, she thought indignantly, as - struggling and protesting all the way - she and Georgie were bundled into the back of a van . . . at the very least, they could have listened to my explanation before they slapped the handcuffs on me. *** Leon finished setting his room to rights and arranged himself in a chair with a cup of coffee. Darcie Channing and her dog had disaster written all over them, he mused, and resolved to give the pair of them a wide berth from now on. She'd probably make a lousy wife anyway, and drop his babies in the bath. And he'd bet his life she couldn't boil an egg either. She looked helpless . . . she looked wonderfully helpless . . . sort of vulnerable. He smiled and shook his head. She was also crazy, and so was he for thinking about her so much. He'd never been impulsive, always planning his life, so what had come over him? Did I really suggest marriage to her? I must have rocks in my head. From now on I'll stay out of her way. His hand jerked as the phone rang, and coffee spilled down his shirt. 'Mister Price? This is Sergeant Holmes. We have a woman in the police station who says you're engaged and will vouch for her.' Helen. He grimaced. She must have been picked up for speeding or something. 'What exactly is the charge, sergeant?' 'No charges have been laid at present. But it involves unlawful entry - and possibly resisting arrest. ' 'Unlawful entry? Good God, that's serious!' 'So is resisting arrest. She gave some garbled account of having the right to be on the premises. She

won't give her name, and had no identification on her. She seems very distraught. Would you mind coming down to the station to help sort this out?' He supposed he owed Helen something. 'Certainly sergeant. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. ' Exactly fifteen minutes later he walked into the police station. The sergeant shook his hand and opened the counter top. 'Come through. She's cooling off in the cell. ' Helen in a cell? Leon grinned. This he'd have to see. But it wasn't Helen, it was Darcie Channing -her eyes as violet and wounded as crushed pansies as she stood up and gazed at him with mute appeal. He raised a quizzical eyebrow when she murmured in a small broken voice. 'Leon, I'm so glad you came. ' 'Darling,' he said, taking her touching admission as a cue. Her acting skill had come as a complete surprise, and he hoped his could match it. He took her in his arms and tenderly kissed her to get himself into character. There was a split-second of mutiny when he thought she might bite him, then she sighed and allowed him to take his fill. It was every bit as good as the first time he'd kissed her, her response magnificent. Afterwards, she laid her head against his shoulder and hissed venomously in his ear. 'After you get me out of this place I'm going to tear out your liver. ' 'I love you too, Angel ' Leon smiled wryly at Sergeant Holmes, who gave a discreet cough. 'I'll leave you together for a few minutes then, Mister Price. Perhaps you can persuade your lady-friend to cooperate. ' 'They handcuffed me. ' She pushed him away and held out her chaffed wrists, her eyes flaming. 'Sherlock Holmes wouldn't listen to one word I said. ' 'Keep your voice down. You're in enough trouble as it is. ' He gazed silently at her for a second or two. 'Unlawful entry and resisting arrest. Those are serious charges, Darcie. ' 'It wasn't unlawful. Colin's wife, Anne, told me I could go in the house any time. She leaves the key in a special place. ' 'I see. ' The frown forked between his eyes. 'What about resisting arrest?' 'I just turned to rush back into the house to get my bag and the constable with him grabbed my . . . my chest. ' Her scowl was notable for its ferocity. Actually, I remember Jeff Watson from high school. He was a couple of years older than me, and a slimy toad. He had acne and used to pinch the girl's behinds. ' 'Yes, yes, Darcie . . . ' He said, trying not to laugh, '. . . but what did you do to him?' Her eyes became pools of injured innocence. 'Nothing, honest. He hurt me, so I elbowed him in the midriff. It was an instinctive reaction. ' She turned her back on him, pulled up the front of ragged jumper she was wearing and examined herself. 'See, there's the bruise where he grabbed me. '

The jumper was dropped back into place just before he got to examine the injury. Leon's eyes narrowed. 'Are you saying that the constable touched you in a personal way?' 'Not intentionally, I suppose. . . but yes. ' She sent a baleful stare out through the door. 'Someone needs to train him in the techniques of how and where to grab. His wife must be covered in bruises - that's if he was lucky enough to find someone to put up with him. ' The way her mind worked was quite disconcerting at times. A conversation with her was like trying to catch hold of quicksilver. 'They're just men trying to do their job. ' He slanted his head to one side and considered the mutinous woman standing in front of him. 'Would it be possible for you to look contrite and apologize, after I've explained what happened?' 'A pol -!' Her eyes widened as his hand clamped over her mouth. 'Listen Darcie, you're in a lot of trouble. Tough as it seems, you can't take on the police force single-handed. The sergeant seems a reasonable enough bloke to me. Let me handle it. An apology is better than going to jail, isn't it?' She was close to tears, and his heart did a slow roll when she gave a miserable nod. He gave her a quick hug and went to talk to the sergeant. Her apology was given in a quavering voice. She looked absolutely crushed, but when he gently squeezed her hand in sympathy she dug her nails into his flesh. 'I'm releasing you into the custody of Mister Price,' the sergeant said firmly. 'I've ask the bank to contact Mister Channing to verify your story. I believe he's overseas at the moment on long service leave, and can't be contacted. They've told me he's been transferred to Sydney, and will be back in four weeks time to clear his belongings from the house. If your story checks out then, no charges will be laid. ' 'What about my shoulder bag? It's still at my cousin's house. ' 'I'll ask Constable Watson to pick it up and deliver it to the Inn. Sign here for your belongings, Miss Channing. You can pick your dog up from the yard. ' 'Thank you, Sergeant Holmes,' she said contritely, shoving the engagement ring with some force at Leon, who promptly slid it back on to her finger. 'I'm sorry I caused so much fuss. ' 'Mister Price told me you've suffered a recent bereavement, otherwise I wouldn't have been so lenient. ' 'Come along, Angel. Let's go home. ' Leon put his arm around her waist and drew her towards the door. "Thanks sergeant. Perhaps you'd like to bring your wife up for a meal sometime, compliments of the management. ' Then they were outside, and collecting Georgie. Just as they drove out of the police station Darcie began to snort with laughter, but there was an edge of hysteria to it. 'Watson and Holmes. Can you believe it?' 'Calm down, Darcie. ' 'And I had to call on you of all people - the man who stole my home. '

He pulled over to the side of the road. 'Now I'm in your custody. Good God! This is unbelievable. ' Tears slid down her cheek and she angrily dashed them away. 'Now I'm crying - and I never cry. I didn't cry when I sat on that broken bottle and had to go to hospital to have it stitched. I didn't even cry when my budgie died. You caused all this trouble. You and Colin. I hate you, Leon Price. ' Her brimming eyes gazed helplessly at him and her voice began to wobble in a way that made his chest ache. 'I didn't even cry when my father died, and now I can't stop. Isn't that awful. ' Reaching out for her he slid her across to his lap and against his chest, where she helplessly began to sob. His hand stroked gently through her hair whilst his shirt became damp from her tears, but he didn't care. No woman had ever affected him like this before, no woman had made him feel so needed. He couldn't bring her father back, but he'd buy her another budgie, and get plastic surgery for her scar if it bothered her that much . . . though perhaps not. He grinned. The crescent shaped scar looked quite fetching, situated where it was. Darcie would have been quite touched if she could have read Leon's thoughts, but she was too miserable to think past herself at that moment. She wished she'd never gone to England. Her mother had been pleased to see her, and she'd passed her secretarial course with flying colors, but she'd never fitted in with her two half-brothers. Deep down, Darcie knew she resented the fact, that when given an ultimatum by her lover, her mother had chosen to abandon her daughter. She somehow had the feeling that if she'd stayed in Australia, nothing would have changed. Her father wouldn't have died, and she'd still be looking after him in the ramshackle house they'd both loved. She'd always been the strong one, her father the helpless one. Now she was as helpless as a baby. No money, no home, no-one to turn to - except for the man who was responsible for her present predicament. A man she wanted to hate -but couldn't. 'I don't even know how my father died or where he's buried,' she sniffed against his shirt. 'All Colin said in his letter was that he'd died in an accident. ' She took the wad of tissues he offered her and vigorously blew her nose before throwing him an accusing look. 'All I've got left is Wee Georgie. And you said he can't stay at the hotel. ' 'I've been thinking about that. ' Darcie held her breath in hope. 'There's some self-catering family accommodation over on the other side of the lake. Chalets that are only used in the summer. ' 'You mean I can move into one of those. ' She flung her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his

cheek. 'Thank you. ' 'I mean we can move into one of those. ' She withdrew her arms. 'We?' His grin warmed her cheeks. 'As far as the hotel staff and the police are concerned we're a couple. It will look odd if you move in there alone. ' 'So your intention is to take advantage of a helpless woman. What sort of custodianship do you think you've been awarded?' 'I wouldn't class you as entirely helpless, Darcie. I'd also like to point out that the chalet I have in mind has three bedrooms. ' Interest came into her eyes, then her heart sank. 'I have to tell you that I haven't got any money to pay for it at present. I gave up my job just before I went to England, and the teller machine swallowed my bank card this morning. ' 'That's no problem. ' 'It might not be to you, but it is to me,' she retorted. 'I'm not used to being a kept woman. I did a secretarial course in England. How about giving me a job at the inn?' 'We're fully staffed in that department. What did you do before you went away?' 'I worked in the florist shop in town. ' 'I don't think we have an opening for a florist. ' 'That's good, because the sap in the flower stems gave me dermatitis. Splaying out her hands she held them out to him. 'It used to itch like crazy. But now, as you can see, it's completely gone. ' He took both of her hands in his and examined them. The ring looked as if it had been designed with her in mind. 'They're very pretty hands. The only position we have open is for a kitchen-hand, and you can't do that. The work's too hard for a woman and your hands would be ruined. ' 'I can wear rubber gloves, 'she pointed out. 'No. The staff will think it strange if I let my fiancee do such a menial job. Besides, heavy lifting is involved. ' She snatched her hands away. 'I can lift heavy things and we can break off the engagement. ' 'And we could always get married. That way you wouldn't need a job. ' He sounded perfectly serious. She stared long and hard at him, eventually spluttering out. 'You're. . . you're serious aren't you? Why me?' 'Because you fit comfortably in my lap, you're available, and it's the only way you'll get a stake in the land you've accused me of stealing. '

He smiled then, a slow charming smile that churned uncomfortably through her insides as she scrambled back to the passenger seat. 'I'm not available. ' 'No?' Calmly, he restarted the car. 'I have a proposition to put to you, Miss Channing . . '

CHAPTER FOUR Darcie turned his proposal down, despite the temptation. 'But why?' She could have sworn the astonishment in his eyes was genuine. Had he really expected her to tie herself up to a man she'd only just met? 'Because when I get married it's going to be for keeps. ' 'Who said it won't be for keeps?' 'You did. One year, you said. ' He sighed. 'I suggested the prenuptial contract stipulate that we must be married for one year. ' 'And then what?' 'If it doesn't work there will be a generous settlement. I've offered you back the Petrel Pointland with the addition of any building that's been erected on it. ' 'How can you offer me something that's already mine?' Leon could have shaken her. 'It's my land, Darcie. Can't you get that through your head?' She ignored that. 'And what about the baby? What sort of mother would choose to walk out on her baby?' Exasperated, he closed his eyes. 'You haven't got a baby. ' 'Then why did you say you wanted to bring him up. ' 'He'd be my son. But anyway, I only mentioned that in passing. We wouldn't have a baby. I said we'd put off having one for that first year. ' 'Accidents happen,' she said darkly, 'and if there happened to be an accident I'd want to raise the result myself. ' He moved to stare out over the lake. 'This is a totally ridiculous conversation. ' 'The whole idea is ridiculous. Let me have the job in the kitchen instead. '

Determination on his face, he turned to face her. 'Definitely not. ' 'Then there's nothing more to be said. What sort of marriage has a prenuptial agreement, anyway? It indicates a lack of commitment and trust. ' They glared at each other for several long minutes, then a smile inched across Leon's face. Darcie steeled herself against its devastating impact. 'What's so funny?' 'You are. No women in her right mind would want that job in the kitchen when she could live a life of ease. 'A life of ease?' She gave a derisive snort of laughter. 'That's typical male thinking. Being a wife and mother is hard work, and underpaid. I'd be better off working in the kitchen. ' She would, would she? Did she have something to learn! He felt like tearing his hair out. This woman couldn't even be logical when she argued. He gave in - partly because he wanted to teach her a lesson, but mostly to preserve his sanity. 'Okay, Darcie. One week in the kitchen. If it doesn't work out we get married. That's my best offer. ' He knew it wouldn't work out. He'd give her two days at the most. In the meantime he'd interview applicants for the job. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'And I get to keep the baby when we split up?' Leon had no qualms about humoring her. 'As long as I can see him on a regular basis. ' There wasn't going to be any baby, he'd make sure of that. 'Right, it's settled, then. ' She stuck out her hand and grinned. 'May the best man win.' 'As there's only one man present, he's bound to. ' Leon was about to press a kiss on her fingers when she snatched her hand away. 'No unfair tactics, okay?' 'Just having you around is unfair to me. ' His eyes roved over her shabby attire. 'Have you got anything decent to wear. The inn has a dress code for dinner.' 'I don't know where my clothes are. But anyway, I won't need anything nice. I'll be working in the kitchen. ' Leon fiddled with his pen and avoided her eyes. He knew exactly where her clothes were, but he wasn't about to start another war by telling her he'd dumped them in the charity shop bin. 'Not this week. You'll start on Monday.' He picked up her case and tipped the contents on the bed. Jeans and sweaters, tee shirts, a track suit, a few flimsy pieces of underwear and a pair of scuffed shoes fell in a crumpled heap. He stared guiltily at her. 'You need some clothes.' 'I can't afford anything right now. I told you, the teller machine swallowed my bank card.' She made a

face as she looked at the pathetic heap on the bed. 'I'll eat in the chalet then I won't need to dress up. ' 'No you won't. You'll eat in the dining room with me. Not only will it be expected. It will give you some idea of what you're in for with regards to the amount of dirty dishes you'll be expected to handle. ' His glance roved around the room. 'I'll send Harry over with a couple of boxes and give you the key to the chalet. I suggest you start packing our things whilst I 'mout. ' 'Where is the chalet?' He drew her over to the window. 'Across the lake, just behind that stand of trees. ' She glanced up at him, mostly to avoid the breath that shivered erotically against her ear. 'It's extremely temporary, believe me. ' The wicked smile he gave unnerved her, and before she knew it his hand had slid under her chin. 'Don't you dare,' she threatened as he tilted her chin up. But he did dare, and his kiss was tender and excitingly sensual all at the same time. Her response was nothing short of shocking. As if a flame had been lit under her, everything started to sizzle. Touch the blue fuse paper, then stand back and wait for the big bang! Anyone would think you hadn't been kissed before, a disapproving voice said in her head. Don't be so such a pain! This is a kiss and a half. I can hear violins playing, little pink Cupids with loaded quivers are flying in front of my eyes, and the bones in my knees have gone all wobbly. It was Leon who managed to pull away first. Darcie gulped in a reviving breath of air and managed a half-hearted protest as she staggered to a chair. 'That was an ambush. ' He looked as shaken as she was, but he recovered faster. His chuckle had a slight edge of uncertainty to it all the same. 'It was meant to be. ' She had the feeling his ambush had bounced back on him. Well it would wouldn't it? He's obviously over sexed. Look how he threw Helen over. Men like him can't be trusted. He'll probably be supporting half a dozen ex wives when he's old, and they'll all be fighting over his fortune. 'Right, I'll leave you to it. ' He edged towards the door, looking slightly stunned, as if she'd been putting the hard word on him, instead of the other way around. 'Send a brandy in with the boxes,' she said gloomily, 'I think I need one. ' 'It's too early in the day. You can have some coffee instead. ' His voice softened. 'Don't worry, Darcie. It might never happen. ' 'I'm counting on it. ' A grin curled her way. 'In view of what's just happened, so am I. '

'Nothing happened. ' Oh yeah! What about the pink Cupids flying all over the place? So, I'll buy a fly swat. She tore her gaze away from Leon's and threw her shoe at him. Deftly he caught it, and slipping it in his pocket, closed the door behind him. *** When Leon came back Darcie was ensconced in the chalet. She'd given him the room with the double bed, and had hung his suits neatly in the wardrobe. Throwing the packages on the bed in the adjoining bedroom, he strode back to the car and got another lot. Darcie was busy replacing missing buttons on his shirts and watched his progress from the corner of her eye. When he'd finished, he pushed Georgie off the couch and sprawled along its full length, grinning at her. 'I see you're practicing your domestic duties. ' She flicked him a warning glance, but said nothing. 'You're not still mad, are you?' 'If I was I wouldn't be doing this. ' Biting through the cotton she threw the shirt on top of the others and rose to her feet. 'I cannibalized a ripped shirt to repair the others. I hope you don't mind. ' Then without pausing for breath. 'What's in the packages?' 'Clothes and things. You've got no idea how exhausting it is to shop for a woman. ' 'Not to the extent you've shopped, I must admit. ' Her mouth pursed in annoyance. 'Are all those packages for me? I thought you were just going to buy a dress for me to wear to dinner. ' 'There were so many of them I didn't know which one to choose. One of the salesgirl's was about your size and coloring. She tried them on to show me what they looked like. It all got a bit confusing in the end so I bought everything. I knew they'd look better on you, anyway. You can always take them back if you don't like them. ' She tried not to laugh, but didn't succeed. Leon was a most unusual man - and his ironic sense of humor matched hers. His mouth twitched into an irrepressible grin that knocked her heart sideways. 'Go and try the black one on. That's the one chose myself. ' Ten seconds later her bed was covered in clothes - and what clothes! There was nothing cheap about them. Piles of filmy underwear, a soft blue robe. Several dresses, designer jeans, shirts, jumpers, and half a dozen boxes of shoes. There was even a box containing dress jewelry, and a bottle of expensive perfume she'd coveted in the duty free shop, but hadn't been able to afford. What was he, a mind reader? she thought stroking the stopper against her wrist.

The little black dress took on a new meaning when she tried it on. Made of clinging silk jersey its gently flared skirt ceased mid-thigh. The high neckline was almost decorous, the dress being designed to show off the legs. She donned a pair of high heeled shoes, swept her hair up into a gold flecked scarf made of some filmy material and sashayed through to the lounge. Leon's glance swept slowly up and down her. 'That looks dynamite on you. ' 'How did it look on the salesgirl?' He grinned. 'Like a tablecloth. Her legs were Queen Anne style. ' Against her better judgment, she giggled. 'So . . . you're a leg man, Leon Price. ' His gaze slid higher. 'I'm an everything man, Darcie, especially when it comes in neat packaging like yours. ' His eyes flicked disturbingly to hers. 'Would you like me to demonstrate. ' She took a step back, the laughter fading from her eyes. 'There's no need. I know exactly what kind of man you are. ' He gave a wry smile. 'And I know exactly what type of woman you are. ' 'Explain?' she said, dry mouthed. 'Sensual through and through. I bet we'd be compatible in bed, uninhibited. Think about it, Darcie. It's been a four year drought for you. Imagine how it would be between us. We're well matched. ' Her female bits gave her a nudge, telling her they'd welcome the connection. Shut up, who asked you! 'Is that your usual line?' she shot back, determined to stay on top of the situation. 'It's the truth. ' He suddenly laughed. 'I suppose it does make me sound like a womanizer considering we've just met. ' The trouble was she felt as though she'd known him all her life. 'Are you one?' 'I didn't have much time for love when I was building up the business. Making money was my main concern, then. ' 'I'm not talking about love. I'm talking about casual affairs. ' A grin played around his mouth as his eyes held hers to his. Time for evasive action. 'Are you interested enough to care?' 'Not really. ' 'Liar. You flirt with me all the time. ' Suddenly, unaccountably, she was annoyed. 'You're mistaken, Leon. You only think I flirt because that's what you want. You have a giant sized libido and an ego to match. I don't give a toss about your love life. '

'You called me Leon at last. ' He gave her a mocking little bow. 'Our relationship is progressing, I think. Get changed and we'll go and have lunch. The chef makes a wonderful Greek Salad. ' Loathe to take off her newly acquired finery, which made her feel as sensual as he seemed to think she was, she challenged. 'What's wrong with what I've got on?' 'Absolutely nothing, but there's a two piece outfit the color of forget-me-nots that I'd be interested to see you in. ' For a man who hadn't known what he was buying he'd done wonderfully well. The short ribbed skirt and matching top suited her to perfection. 'Sensational. ' The admiration in his eyes wasn't too hard to accept, but the barely disguised desire that came with it was slightly uncomfortable, albeit exciting. Leon made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world. Well, he would wouldn't he? He's probably practiced his techniques from the moment he climbed out of his playpen. I, for one, shall not allow myself to be fooled by them. She tried to brazen it out, but failed because her own desire seemed to bubble up as soon as their eyes met. This was one sexy guy. One wrong move and they'd be making lunch of each other. She wondered if there was such a thing as an anti-aphrodisiac as she dragged her hormones back up from gutter level. Ungraciously, she muttered. 'Shall we go?' Alarmed when he snatched up a pair of scissors from the table and advanced on her, she backed away. Leon gave a creamy smooth smile as he purred. 'Perhaps I should remove your price tag.' She managed to bite her tongue as he snipped the dangling label off, but only just. The breath she'd inhaled was expelled in jagged-edged hisses. They eyeballed each other for a second or two, then a tiny seed of shame appeared in the gray depths of his eyes. He shrugged. 'That was unfair. I apologize. ' It took a man of integrity to apologize with such sincerity. Or a con-man! Only she had nothing to be conned out of now. Nothing! Her very survival depended on Leon Price - a man she wanted to hate, but couldn't. So many things had happened over the past few hours. She was totally bewildered, and had no one to turn to but him. Deep inside her was an ache, like an injury that hadn't quite healed. She also felt lonely. Yet she wasn't alone - and she was glad she wasn't. 'Thank you for being kind to me, Leon' she said, and her words rekindled the ashes of his smile, melting away a tiny portion of her loneliness. Nevertheless, she was thinking as they made their way towards the main building of the inn, I'll refund every cent as soon as I have sufficient funds to do so. Constable Watson delivered her bag just as they'd reached the coffee stage.

'He said he'd appreciate a private word with you both,' Shirley whispered. They met him the foyer. He gazed awkwardly from one to the other for a moment. 'I'm sorry if I was rough, Miss Channing. It was unintentional. To be quite honest I didn't recognize you. I've been working up north since I graduated from the police academy, and have only just been posted back here. ' Full of Greek salad and fortified with a couple of glasses of Chardonnay, Darcie was inclined to be magnanimous. 'Apology accepted. ' "I mean. It wouldn't look good on my record if a complaint was made. I'm a married man. ' Interest piqued, Darcie stared at him. 'Who did you marry, Jeff. Anyone I know?' 'Her name's, Jenny. She's not from round here though. I met her in Perth. ' 'Have you got any children?' 'One. ' A smile transformed Jeff's homely face into one approaching beauty. 'His name's Sam. ' 'Why don't you join us for coffee then you can tell me about him? Have you got a photograph on you?' Jeff darted a look at Leon, who remained stonily impassive. 'I'd better not stay. I'm expected back at the station. I just wanted you to know -' 'Miss Channing won't be making any official complaints, despite her injuries, constable,' Leon intervened smoothly. 'But there's something you could do for her if you would?' 'If it's within my power,' Jeff said cautiously. 'Miss Channing's father accidentally died a few months ago when she was abroad. Because her cousin is away she's been unable to discover the nature of the accident or where he's buried. Naturally, she's distressed . . . ' 'I'll do what I can to find out. ' 'Thanks, Jeff. Now you remember who I am you can inform Sherlock Homes that I'm not a burglar. ' "I have, but he still insists on checking. He's not from around here, so you'll just have to ride it out. ' They exchanged a smile before he left, then Darcie placed her hand on Leon's arm. 'Thanks. I wouldn't have thought about asking him to check. ' 'Elementary, my dear Darcie. ' He covered her hand with his. 'Now, what say you and I finish our coffee, then get changed and take that lout of a dog for a walk along one of the bush trails whilst the sun is still shining? I don't want him demolishing the chalet. ' Within the hour they were winding their way through the forest. Its peculiar smell of damp leaf litter reminded Darcie of her childhood, and the cathedral air of quietness -despite the bird-song and rustling foliage -was a healing balm to her soul. Neither of them spoke for a while- but after half an hour when the path began to wind uphill, Leon drew

them to a halt. 'I don't know where this trail leads, do you?' Capturing a stray strand of hair she tried not to smile as she tucked it into her scarf. 'It joins the main trail that winds upwards to the bluff and lover's leap. There's a great view from there but it's a steep climb. ' 'How long does it take?' 'About two hours. ' He still seemed fresh but it was obvious he wasn't used to bush walking. His shoes were unsuitable for scaling rocks and a faint sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead. She gave him an out. 'I don't feel up to going that far today myself. I'm still a bit tired from the plane trip. ' Relief came into his eyes. 'Perhaps you'll take me there another day, when we're both fresher. ' 'Yes . . . I'd like to. ' She whistled for Georgie, who came bounding out of the undergrowth with a stick between his teeth. He dropped it at Leon's feet and wagged his tail. Leon picked up the stick and threw it in the direction they'd come from. 'He's a good-natured dog. ' 'My father gave him to me for my twenty-first birthday. ' Leon enjoyed the way her eyes softened. 'He was only a pup. Dad thought he was one of those small terriers but he just kept growing. I don't think he's a pure bred because his ears stand up. I haven't told him though, because he thinks he is, and I don't want to hurt his feelings. ' Leon had captured her hand whilst this was being said. Either she hadn't noticed, or was pretending not to. He didn't care which because her hand felt soft and warm, like a mouse curled into his palm. 'Did you have a dog when you were a boy?' He gave a little start of surprise. His childhood was something he rarely talked about. The youngest of a family of five boys, he'd been born late in life to parents who neither wanted nor cared for him. He'd been taken into care when he was three, and shunted from one foster home to the other. He couldn't remember his family, and none of them had bothered to find out what had happened to him. His final foster parent had been a widowed teacher, a feisty woman who'd taken his measure, recognized his potential and taken it upon herself to make sure the resentful twelve year old boy she'd taken under her wing grew up to be a responsible, well-educated citizen. He'd become Sarah Williams' mission in life, and she'd succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. Despite his resolve not to, he'd allowed someone to become important to him. He'd tested her in the same way he had his other foster parents, trying to push her over the edge. But she'd been clever, and too tough . . . and she'd won. For that he was grateful. "Being resentful is destructive, Leon," she'd always said to him. "Use the brains the good lord gave you to better yourself. Make a plan. Always move forward, and never look back until you find your place in life. " When he'd graduated from university with an engineering degree she'd been the proudest personalize.

He'd had it copied, written her name next to his and presented it to her. Framed, it was hanging over her fireplace. He'd put his plan to Sarah one day. It was simple. Escape to the sunshine, make more money than he could spend in one day, and provide himself with a happy family life. On his children he would lavish all the love he'd never received himself as a child. He'd told her he was going to Australia, and when he'd found his place he would invite her over for a holiday. Now he'd found his place, and his ideal of family life was just a finger's length away - like a carrot dangling under the nose of a donkey. He just hoped he'd be fast enough to catch it. He'd even found a dog. Perhaps it was time to write to Sarah. 'No. I never had a dog,' He ran his fingers through the rough iron gray hair on Georgie's head when he came back with the stick. 'You're a fine looking mutt, aren't you. I wouldn't mind one like you around. ' The catch in his voice made Darcie gaze sideways at him. There was something wistful about his face -an expression almost of yearning, that brought a lump to her throat. She gently squeezed his hand. 'Did you have a very rough childhood?' He didn't know what surprised him most, her intuitive reaction, or the fact that he told her, 'I was raised in foster homes. ' 'That must have been awful. ' She looked so horrified he stopped and turned to face her, smiling. 'They were all very nice, caring people, only I didn't appreciate the fact until I grew up. ' She kissed his cheek. 'They didn't do a bad job, at that. ' He liked that kiss, there was something affectionate about it. I could use this angle, play on her sympathy. No, it wouldn't be fair! Yet he had an urge to kiss her peachy-soft mouth -to drown himself in her loving. She'd asked him about casual affairs. There had been too many to remember. Faceless women, nameless, offering him temporary love. Helen had lasted longer than the others -Helen had held him because she'd offered him nothing, and he'd enjoyed the challenge of it. Now he knew she'd used him in the way he'd used his casual affairs - and he didn't like the cheapness of it. It would be easy to get Darcie into bed, to take advantage of her. She was already halfway there. But the difference between her and the other women was her vulnerability. She needed him, and in the short time he'd known her he sensed that somehow she understood him. Strange as it seemed to him, he knew this fact intuitively. Her attraction went beyond the mere carnal. Darcie Channing was tuned into his wavelength. He wanted her, but the awful thing was, he might have to set her free before he could have her - and he didn't know if he had it in him to do that. So he held her hand briefly against the imprint of her kiss and said gruffly. 'Would you prefer it if I moved back to my room, Darcie?' He didn't know whether to be relieved or sorry when she smiled and gently shook her head, because staying together would be much, much harder.

*** There had been a subtle shift in their relationship, Darcie mused as she slipped into bed that night. Something had happened to Leon in the forest, something that had caused him to take the pressure off her. He'd been relaxed for the rest of the day - and relaxed, Leon turned out to be at his most dangerous - his warmth and charm lulling her into a sense of euphoric oneness with him that made her completely drop her guard. It was obvious the staff at the inn adored him. They couldn't do enough for him. Leon brought out the best in people. He smoked the evil smelling cigar Harry gave him without coughing once - inquired after baby Rose and made the appropriate noises when an instant photograph of a wrinkled looking infant with a bald head was shoved into his hand. She smiled as she picked up the book she'd bought to read on the plane. It was the fourth book in a clogs and shawl saga by the Australian author Anna Jacobs. She'd enjoyed the first three immensely, and was looking forward to the publication of the fifth and final one. She'd just immersed herself in the story when a knock came at the door. 'Come in. ' Leon entered with a tray balanced on his hand. 'I thought you might like a cup of tea and some biscuits before you went to sleep. ' 'We had some half an hour ago.' He grinned as he set the tray on the side table, and sat on the side of the bed. 'Your light was on so I thought you'd like some more. ' She placed the book down on the bed. 'Hallam Square,' he read, his eyes slowly coming up to hers. 'Good book?' 'Excellent. ' She hoped he wasn't going to give her trouble - then contrarily, hoped he would. 'What did you really want, Leon?' 'I'm that transparent, huh?' She nodded. 'I'm going to Perth tomorrow to see my lawyer. I wondered if you'd like to join me. He could put your mind at rest about the land at Petrel Point and we could work on that prenuptial agreement. ' Her eyes narrowed slightly. 'You mean he could pull the wool over my eyes, don't you?' His face closed up as he rose from the bed. 'Why are you being so obdurate about this, Darcie? I'll be leaving early, about seven. Please yourself if you come or not. '

'All right,' she said hastily as the door was about to close behind him. 'I'll come with you. After all, you have been appointed my keeper. But don't expect me to sign any agreement. It will be a waste of paper. ' He gave her a brief wintry smile, and was gone.

CHAPTER FIVE Darcie rose before dawn to take Georgie for a run. When she returned the remains of two breakfasts were on the table, and Leon was nowhere to be seen. Between them, she and Georgie wolfed down the lukewarm bacon and scrambled egg and washed down two pieces of cold toast with tepid coffee. At 6. 45, just as she'd changed into a navy wrap around skirt with matching jacket and lacy camisole top, Leon came striding into the chalet, all smiles. 'Good, you're ready. ' As she attached Georgie's lead to his collar he gave a slight frown. 'I'd forgotten about the dog. ' He chuckled when Georgie hung his head. 'Well, I don't suppose you'll be any trouble. I'll drop you off at the house. It has a nice secure garden and you won't be alone there. ' 'Whose house?' 'My house in Perth. ' 'If you've got a house in Perth why do you need to build one at Petrel Point?' she said as she followed him to the car park. 'I like it here. I'm going to wind down my business interests, settle down and raise a family. ' He smiled as he unlocked the car and opened the door for her. 'Does that answer your question?' 'It raises more questions than it answers, actually. ' 'Like what?' He settled himself behind the wheel and started the engine. 'First you have to prove the Petrel Point land is yours, and then you have to win the bet. ' Guilt niggled at his mind - a guilt he was determined to squash. He knew the land was his, but he couldn't help feeling sorry that she was about to find out the hard way - as for marriage . . . ? He never placed money on a losing bet, besides, who would look after her if he didn't? Her cousin certainly didn't seem to want to. He gave her a determined look. 'I was under the impression we had an agreement. ' 'It wasn't an agreement, it was a bet. I'm not signing anything. ' 'Ah . . . who was it talked about trust? Who was it who said she liked honesty, and hated deceit?' 'I have no intention of deceiving you. You gave me a week in the kitchen if I recall. I intend to make you eat your words. '

'We'll see. ' 'Yes, you will, so you'd better start looking around for someone else to marry. Perhaps Helen will have you back. ' 'I don't want Helen. I want you. ' His smile sent alarm bells ringing in her mind. 'You have no idea how much I want you, Darcie. ' 'I think you've made that pretty clear, Leon,' she snapped, feeling warmth flood her cheeks. 'Unfortunately for you, I don't want you. ' He took a strand of her hair in his hand and twisted it around his fingers. 'You're not a very good liar, Darcie. You do want me, and I'll expect you to honor the agreement. ' The nape of her neck became a shivery playground of pleasure as he tucked the hair behind her ear with a tiny caressing motion. 'And if I don't honor it?' Then he'd offer her a decent job at the inn - create one if need be. One way or another he'd keep her at his side . . . and he'd court her with flowers, chocolates and theater tickets - romance her a bit. He might do that anyway. A slow thoughtful smile crept across his face as he gazed at her. 'You knew exactly what you were doing when you agreed to my proposition, didn't you?' 'Yes. I'm going to beat you at your own game. ' 'We'll see. ' The thought of what was ahead of her following week didn't bear thinking about - but he wasn't going to spare her. He'd instruct the kitchen staff she was to perform her duties without help. In the meantime he'd make sure she enjoyed their time together. 'Would you like to take in a show whilst we're in Perth?' Darcie had only been to the theater once, and that had been a pantomime. She'd been young, but the color and vivacity of it had left an indelible impression on her mind. Her eyes began to sparkle at the thought of going again. 'That would be wonderful. I went to see Puss in Boots once . . . ' and she proceeded to tell him all about whilst the car purred steadily through the leafy winding lane to join the main artery and the early morning traffic heading for Perth. Long before they reached his house, a sizable and stately colonial looking residence overlooking the Swan River, she'd run out of things to say. Darcie knew she'd rattled on about nothing . . . anything to take his mind off the personal aspect of their relationship. Now she exclaimed with delight. 'This is lovely. How can you bear to sell it?' 'I have no intention of selling it. I need a place in town. I have various business interests apart from the development company, and have to attend meetings and functions from time to time. ' She knew Leon was well off, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined . . . ' Her eyes were troubled as she gazed at him. 'I see. ' 'Don't let the trappings of wealth worry you. Money is neither here nor there when it comes to relationships. '

'It makes my block of land seem like nothing,' she said accusingly. 'Why do you want it so badly?' Her arms swept an expansive arc towards his house. 'You don't need it?' 'You have no idea of my needs. ' Leon felt unaccountably annoyed as he ushered her inside. She seemed to think everything had dropped into his lap. It hadn't. He'd worked for it, and worked hard. Lines of tension appeared between his brow and he pressed his fingers against his forehead as he wondered where his housekeeper was. 'Oh, yes I have. You said you need a wife and family. ' 'So, what's wrong with that?' 'Nothing, except . . . ' She didn't know quite how to say it. 'Except what? Spit it out, Darcie. ' 'You can't see beyond yourself. You see something, you want it, you go after it . . . and to hell with anyone else or what they feel. You seem to regard women as objects to fulfill your needs. ' The condemnation in her voice shocked him, but what shocked him more was the truth of her words. He didn't have time to answer because she hadn't finished with him. 'You have a way with you, Leon, you draw people to you then take hostages. ' She turned her back on him and stared out of the window across the river. 'There's something ruthless about you. ' 'You have to be ruthless in business or you don't get anywhere. ' 'But not in relationships. They should evolve naturally, and without pressure. ' He moved to stand beside her. 'Years ago I made a plan. I would find my place in the world. I've achieved nearly everything I set out to achieve. Now it's time to slow down. ' 'You've done your killing, now you want the scalps as trophies. ' She sighed, and turned to face him, her eyes troubled. 'Why me, Leon? Is it because I spoiled the plans you'd made for Helen? Is it revenge?' She resolved then that she would see Helen and explain the situation to her. Perhaps she could bring them back together again. He brushed a strand of hair back from a face that was pale and tense. Her mouth was trembling, her eyes dark with accusation. He could have told her that Helen meant nothing to him now- but that would only reinforce the opinion she'd already formed of him. He wanted her. He ached for her, and he couldn't risk letting her off the hook. Their relationship was too new -too vulnerable. Instead of answering he took her face between his hands and gently kissed her trembling mouth into a yielding softness. If he brought this situation back to basics he'd keep her wanting him. 'Right now, we could make love and forget everything,' he whispered against her mouth. 'Yes,' she sighed, and Leon couldn't decide if it was an answer or an invitation when she laid her face against his shoulder for a moment.

There was a baying bark from the back of the house. 'Georgie,' she breathed in alarm, then she was running after Leon, her feet sinking into a luxurious pale gray carpet. A beautiful Siamese cat, its hackles raised on high, was yowling with frenzied fury from the top of the refrigerator. Tail wagging from side to side, Georgie gazed up at it with an idiotically pleased expression on his face. Just then a woman came rushing through the kitchen door. The cat jumped down, took a swipe at Georgie's inquisitive nose in passing and went to weave around her ankles. Leon clicked his fingers and Georgie immediately went to his side. 'I hope Georgie didn't frighten you, Anna. ' The woman laughed. 'It would take more than a dog to frighten me, Mister Price. ' The woman gave Darcie a curious glance. 'Is this the young lady you told me about when you phoned?' 'This is Miss Channing. 'He took her hand, his smile an intimate caress on her face. 'Darcie, this is Anna. She and her husband look after the place when I'm away. ' They exchanged smiles. 'Nice to meet you, Miss Channing. Will you be in for dinner, Mister Price?' 'Yes. And we'll be staying the night, so make up the guest bedroom, please. But first, we'd like some coffee. ' Darcie opened her mouth to protest, then slowly shut it again when he grinned. What was the use? An hour later they were seated in a plush office in Perth, facing Leon's lawyer across an expanse of polished wood - and she was perusing the papers he set before her. She'd expected to see Colin's neat handwriting, but scrawled across the bottom of the page was her father's untidy signature. Bewildered, she gazed from the one man to the other. 'I don't understand. This is my father's signature!' 'Yes. He handled the deal personally. ' The lawyer tapped his pen on the desk and frowned. 'Against my advice, I might add. Doctor Channing should have used a settlement agent. However, it proved to be quite straightforward as there was no mortgage to pay out and he brought the deeds with him. They're in my safe. Would you like to see them?' 'I don't see the point. ' Her eyes narrowed slightly. 'When did he receive the money from the sale?' Papers were consulted. 'It was paid straight into his bank account the day after settlement, as he instructed. Is there some problem?' 'Did he give a reason for selling the property?' The lawyer frowned for a moment. 'I believe your father mentioned something about going to Sydney. Yes, that's it. He'd been offered a position at one of the universities. He seemed very pleased about it. '

He would have been. She'd always thought her father's talents had been wasted teaching at the local high school. Darcie felt totally deflated. Why hadn't he told her? Then she thought. Perhaps he died before he could. Tears pricked the back of her eyes. Gazing numbly at Leon she choked out. 'I owe you an apology. ' 'Under the circumstances, anyone would have jumped to the same conclusion. ' His voice was sympathetic as his hand covered hers. 'Would you like a copy of the offer and acceptance? As she nodded the lawyer rose from his seat and took the papers through to the outer office. 'The money must be in your account. ' Feeling numb, she took a deep breath. 'Then why didn't the machine accept my card?' 'I expect you used the wrong pin number. ' 'No . . . I'm sure I didn't. Not three times, anyway. ' Remembering her absent cousin -a man who bore the same name as her father, he could understand her unease. 'Let's not jump to any conclusions, Darcie. We'll check with the bank when we get back, okay?' She went to gaze out of the window when the lawyer came back and he and Leon began to talk business. The office was situated high in an office block and looked down over Perth. It looked what it was, a clean, prosperous city with the river winding bluely through its midst. It seemed odd to her that her mother hadn't been able to settle here, that she'd gone back to the ugly town in the North of England where she'd been born, leaving her child to be raised by her former husband. Of course, there had been another man involved in her life, but Darcie hadn't known that when she'd been small. Her mother had kept in touch with cards and presents for Christmas and birthdays, and later - when Darcie learned to read and write - with letters. There had been a couple of visits when she'd grown older - but if any close bond had existed between them it had been lost in the passing of time. Darcie had been completely happy with her father, who although he'd had girlfriends from time to time, had never shown any inclination to remarry. Now she was on her own. Except for Leon, her custodian. She'd been staring at his name for five minutes without really seeing it. Now it jumped out at her in bold blue letters. Leon Price Ltd. 'Your name's on the side of a building over there,' she said, pointing out the obvious as she turned to him in astonishment. His eyes lit up with amusement. 'Not for much longer if I can help it. ' Feeling foolish, she turned away, only to encounter his reflection in the glass - he was exchanging a smile with his lawyer. She poked her tongue out at the reflection and immediately felt slightly better.

'There's going to be difficulty about that, the lawyer was saying. Martin wants to retain the company name - and he wants you to stay as chairman on the board of directors. ' 'No to the first. The names can be incorporated without the company suffering damage. Price and Grainger for the first two years, then it reverts to Martin Grainger. As for the second request. 'I'll serve on the board for one year only. After that, he's on his own. ' 'He should go for that. ' 'Another thing, Leon. ' The lawyer's pencil tapped on the desk. 'Martin wants his sister on the board'. 'Helen?' Darcie's ears twitched at the sound of her name. 'He intends to make her a partner in the future. She already owns a fair number of shares, and wants to learn the ropes. ' Darcie watched Leon frown for a second, then he nodded. 'I guess I'll be able to handle it. Helen's got more savvy than her brother when it comes to business. I've got no objection.' Leon's ability to sort out the personal from the professional and make an instant decision awed her. 'Right, I'll set up a meeting with his lawyer to thrash out the financial details. Will next week suit?' 'Fine. Just give me a ring. ' The two men stood up and shook hands - then she and Leon were outside the office and were being conveyed to the ground floor in an elevator plush enough to be a lounge room. They emerged into the April sunlight and the bustle of the street. 'Will you mind working with Helen?' she said, voicing her concern straight away. 'What's more to the point. Will you mind me working with Helen?' 'Why is that the point?' 'Because you'll be my wife. ' Their eyes collided with a suddenness that made her struggle for breath. What had she got herself into? She didn't want to become Leon's wife so he could prove something to Helen. She wanted to marry him because . . . ? No, it was ridiculous. She'd only just met him. Love at first sight was a myth! Besides - once he got together with Helen again . . . ? 'Wrong,' she said faintly. 'I'll be your kitchen-hand. And the thought of you working with Helen doesn't effect me one way or the other. ' 'It doesn't effect me one way or the other, either. ' He threw her a wicked grin. 'The first meeting might proved to be a bit embarrassing though. '

She couldn't return his grin. The thought of Leon and Helen thrown together again had suddenly brought a nasty taste to her mouth. From what she'd seen of her, the woman would eat him alive and spit out the crumbs. Perhaps it would be best to leave Helen and Leon to fate. After all, they were both adults, and she wasn't really responsible for what had happened. And you don't want to hand him back to her on a plate. Keep your nose out of my affairs! Who are you trying to kid? This is the first affair you've been offered for years. Leon's a hunk with marriage on his mind. Grab him while he's going. Someone collided with her back and propelled her against him. Immediately his arms came around her. He laughed as he gazed down at her. 'You look as though you've swallowed a nest of wasps. ' 'I think I have,' she muttered, but what she really feared was the thought that she might gladly eat crow before this farce was finally over. They lunched at a small restaurant overlooking the river then wandered for a while through the city malls and gardens before returning to the house for dinner and to freshen up before going to the theater. The fact that he'd managed to obtain good seats for what had been advertised as a sell-out show was awe-inspiring. When she asked him how he'd managed to get tickets he laughed. 'The beauty of having money is that it buys you everything. ' She thoroughly enjoyed the energetic vitality of the Irish style dancing, and the magic of the tale brought a lump to her throat. But the night didn't end there. Leon took her to supper at an Italian Restaurant, then on to a nightclub where they danced until she was so tired that all she managed to do was cling to Leon's body with her head on his shoulder, and sway in time to the music - which was kind of dreamy and romantic. She fell asleep in the car on the way home, and only vaguely remembered getting undressed and crawling into a soft, luxurious bed. The next thing she knew the sun was streaming through the bedroom window. The clock on the dressing table told her it was 10. 30. Feeling as contented as a cat, she stretched her limbs and gave a big yawn before she rose and headed for the en-suite. This sort of life I could soon get used to, she thought as she showered and dressed. Leon was no where to be seen as she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Anna was busy setting the table. 'Just a slice of toast and some tea, please' Darcie said when the woman offered to cook her some bacon and eggs. 'I ate enough last night to last me a week. Where's Leon this morning?' 'Mister Price went to a meeting. He said to tell you he'd be back at lunch time. ' Georgie woofed from outside the back door and Anna laughed as she let him in. 'Now, you behave

yourself, you big spoiled baby. ' 'I hope he hasn't been a nuisance. ' 'He's a good dog, just a bit energetic. ' Darcie experienced a niggle of guilt. 'I'll take him for a walk after breakfast. Thanks so much for looking after him last night. He hates being left by himself. ' She walked along the edge of the river for a mile or so, arriving back at the same time as Leon. He looked strained. 'You look as if you had a bad morning. ' The smile he gave was a mere sliver. 'You could say that. My partner's demanded a bigger slice of the pie, and I've decided he's not going to get it. ' 'So it's nothing I can help with. ' His smile softened as he came towards her. 'You could kiss me better, I guess. ' 'We agreed there would be no unfair tactics,' she reminded him, half laughing. 'You did. I didn't. ' So she didn't protest when his hands cupped her face and pulled her gently towards him. In fact she welcomed his kiss, because she couldn't lie to herself and pretend she didn't enjoy it. 'Ah . . . ,' he sighed, his eyes laughing down at her afterwards. 'That's made everything better. You're the only person I know who doesn't want a piece of me. ' He was totally wrong, of course, because he'd just made her feel as if she wanted every piece of him. 'Is it that bad, Leon?' 'Worse. ' The frown forked between his eyes. 'If word gets out that the gloves have come off, the company will lose its contracts, and there won't be anything left to have a piece of within a few months. ' 'You'd be bankrupt?' 'Would that worry you?' Would it? Tall dark handsome and wealthy was the standard fantasy man. She couldn't stop a grin sneaking across her face. 'I think I'd enjoy it. I've never known another pauper.' The combination of his chuckle and frown was endearing. 'The trouble is, I've forgotten how to be one. ' 'I'm sure you'd soon learn the ropes. ' She reached up and smoothed the frown from his forehead with her finger, keeping the chuckle to warm her heart. 'I've formed the impression you adapt to any situation you find yourself in, and make the most of it. ' A range of different emotions chased across his face as he tried to figure it out, then a wry smile played

around his mouth. 'I'll take that as a compliment . . . shall I?' 'Of course . . . do I look the type of woman who would insult her custodian and future . . . employer?' 'Don't you mean, husband? 'His hands lightly closed over her shoulders. 'Actually, you look delicious enough to eat - and I'm kind of hungry. ' The situation between them was becoming more and more fraught with danger. He mixed her up both emotionally and physically. Men like Leon, with their power and money, were predators. They went after the woman they wanted - then discarded them just as easily. There were examples in every women's magazine - and she had no intention of becoming a temporary wife to any man- however attractive. She slipped away from his grasp and turned towards the door. 'I'll make you some lunch then?' 'You can cook?' Her eyes threw him a challenge. 'Name it. If the ingredients are in the kitchen I'll cook it. ' 'I'd really like some homemade apple pie and custard. ' 'For lunch? You've got to be kidding!' He smiled slightly. 'That's just for dessert. ' 'And for starters?' She should have known better than to ask. When his smile took on a devilish edge she purred. 'I would suggest a cold shower followed by a salad. ' 'I've been standing under a cold shower since we first met. ' 'Tough luck. ' She turned and headed for the kitchen. *** Leon spent a couple of hours on the telephone after lunch, and was deep in thought as they drove back to the inn. It was too late to go to the bank to sort out her account, so they went straight to the Inn, where Leon's time was immediately claimed. They met at dinner. It was Friday, and the restaurant was crowded. The staff was pushed to the limit. Dinner was interrupted by the chef who consulted him about a mix up in the numbers for a wedding reception to be held the next day. The place really hummed at the weekend, Darcie realized as Leon explained that on Saturdays there was usually a wedding reception or a conference - or both, in the two function rooms. 'You should design a wedding package,' she said thoughtfully. 'If you built a wedding pavilion by the lake in the garden for summer weddings, you could include a week's honeymoon at the inn. ' Her eyes became all dreamy. 'In winter the conservatory off the smaller function room could be used. It would be so romantic. '

Leon looked pensive for a second, then he laughed. 'I'm all for romance. I like it. ' She felt pleased with herself until he murmured. 'Cost it out and run it by me. ' 'Me!' 'Who else? It's your idea. ' She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. 'I'm working in the kitchen from Monday. ' 'The functions coordinator would be a nicer occupation, wouldn't it?' 'I guess,' A flicker of excitement ran through her. 'I don't know anything about costing things out. ' 'Then it's about time you learned. Just write down a plan of what you think is needed, find out the cost and let me have it by Monday evening. I'll go through it with you. ' Her eyes widened. 'That soon?' 'You're now a member of the staff, and I expect my staff to work. There's a small office off the large function room. I'll get it cleaned out. That can be your office. I'll expect things to be up and running within the month. ' He could see she liked the idea- and if she didn't work in the kitchen she'd have broken their agreement. But the time to tell her that when he asked her to arrange their own wedding. My own office! Darcie Channing, functions coordinator. Then she suddenly remembered. 'Sorry, Leon. It will have to wait until next week. I'm not going to play your game. ' He was all transparent innocence. 'What game?' 'You know exactly what I'm talking about. ' 'Ah . . . that game. Any time you want to play, Darcie . . . ?' He considered the faint blush that tinted her creamy skin delicious, her smile almost edible. Her laugh sent goose-bumps racing up his spine. 'And if I win, Leon. Then what?' 'Then what, indeed, Darcie Channing?' He took her hand in his and kissed the palm. 'I guess I'll have the sexiest kitchen hand in town . . . but that won't change over attraction for each other, will it? I'll just keep the pressure up until you give in. ' Something he hadn't bothered to do with Helen, so he couldn't have been in love. But what does he feel for me? She couldn't tell, his eyes were enigmatic. She suddenly wondered - given his background, had Leon ever learned how to give and take love. As her hand closed around his in an involuntary squeeze - she very much doubted it.

CHAPTER SIX 'I'm sorry, Miss Channing . . . that account has been closed. ' 'But that's ridiculous, 'she argued. 'There was a large amount of money paid into it six months ago - and it was a joint account. It couldn't have been closed without my signature.' 'Just a moment. I'll check. ' The moment became a five minute interlude of Handel's Water Music. Just as she was beginning to enjoy it, the same voice informed her. 'The account was in one name only, you just had an access card to it. That was canceled when the account was closed. I'm sorry, but we have no record of any transaction taking place. ' Frustrated, she slammed down the receiver and rested her head in her hands. She didn't want to believe Colin had helped himself to her father's cash. Yet what other conclusion could she come to? Okay, so they didn't hit it off all that well, but was she being fair? She'd never considered Colin to be dishonest - just a pain in the neck. No, that's not right, she thought. It wasn't the neck. He said I was the pain in his neck, and I told him he was a pain in my . . . 'Problems?" Leon said from the doorway. 'Big problems. ' Is Leon part of this? She stared hard at him. 'The check from the sale of my father's property - the one your lawyer assured me had been paid into his account - has disappeared into thin air. In fact, the account has been closed. ' Leon's smile faded. 'Bank accounts just doesn't disappear. There's probably a simple explanation. ' 'If there is, you'd better let me in on it, Leon. ' She didn't know who to trust any more. The whole thing had become a nightmare. 'Are you accusing me of fraud, Darcie?' His voice was curt, almost unfriendly. 'No . . . . yes . . . I don't know. How do I know who's trustworthy and who isn't? All I know is you've got the deeds to my father's property and I haven't got anything. ' His lips curled slightly. 'You verified the signature. I don't need to cheat you out of that money. I could buy you a thousand times over and not notice a dent in my pocketbook. ' She met his disdainful gaze with a recklessly furious one of her own. 'Do you really think you can buy me, Leon?' He didn't answer, just stared silently at her for the few moments it took her to realize. She'd taken everything he'd offered her over the past few days. Clothes, shelter, food. She'd even agreed to marry him if the kitchen job ,,,? His voice was honeyed when he spoke. 'Like you said . . . I take hostages. I'll expect you to keep your side of the bargain. '

'Go to hell. I'd rather starve to death!' 'I doubt it,' he drawled, as he turned and strode away, banging the chalet door behind him. That's what you think! Tearing off her fancy clothes she changed into an old pair of jeans and a sweater, then threw all her worldly goods into her suitcase. Blinded by tears, she slipped out the back way and headed into the forest with Georgie at her heels. A couple of hours later, she pushed open the rusty gate in the hedge that had once been her home at Petrel Point. She had nowhere else to go. There was a cement pad on the block where she and her father had once lived, pallets of bricks lined one side of the hedge. Leon Price's bricks for Leon Price's dream home. It was going to be a big house, she thought as she wandered into the middle of it. The place she'd grownup in would have taken up a small portion in the middle. She sat on the cold gray cement. This must have been poured when they were in Perth. It was hardly set, the concrete still damp. No wonder he'd wanted her out of the way. She carved her name in the pad with the house key she took from her bag, knowing it was an empty gesture rather than a claim for possession, for the key no longer had a lock to fit in. She didn't know how long she sat there wondering what she could do, or where she could go. Perhaps her mother would send her the fare to England if she asked. But her mother wasn't financially well off, and although Darcie had quite liked England, the thought of leaving Australia to live in a cold climate was unappealing. The sound of the postman's motor bike suddenly snapped her out of her reverie. It struck her as odd that he should be delivering mail to a house that no longer existed - to a man who no longer existed. When she heard him depart, she collected the letters from the box set in the hedge and took them down to the beach. A final demand for an unpaid electricity bill from a debt collection agency - two other official looking letters that probably demanded more of the same. A postcard from England she'd sent six months ago with a "wish you were here" message on it from herself. If only! She turned a faded blue airmail letter over in her hand, a letter to herself from her father - dated just before he died - that had been returned from England with 'address unknown" stamped on it He'd addressed it to Makepeace Street instead of Makapin Road. She managed a watery grin. He must have been reading Thackeray. Probably Pendennis - his favorite book. She held the letter against her cheek for a second or two, then under her nose, trying without success to find some lingering essence of her father on it. Fingers trembling, she inserted her nail under the flap and ripped it open. *** It was almost sunset when Leon found her, sitting on the beach staring out to sea. A cold wind blew off the water but she seemed oblivious to it, though her body was racked with shivers. Georgie came bounding up to him, tail eagerly wagging, to thrust his nose hungrily into his hand.

'Darcie. Are you all right?' She didn't look up, didn't indicate by even a flicker of an eyelid that she'd heard him. He dropped to his haunches in front of her and taking her cold hands in his, said softly. 'Darcie, answer me. ' There was a pale, set look to her face. The eyes that turned his way were infinitely sad as she whispered. 'I received a letter from my father today. He sounded so happy. ' Oh God! Gently he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. 'I've been looking for you all day. ' 'I had nowhere to go. I never imagined when I went to England that I'd come back to nothing. ' Her eyes seemed bewildered when they met his. 'Do you know what he said? I'm doing this for you. We'll lead a new life in Sydney. You won't be so isolated there. You'll meet people of your own age, perhaps fall in love and get married. ' Her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes as she leaned against his chest for comfort. 'He did it for me. Didn't he know places don't isolate you? It's not having someone to love that does that. I've never felt so lonely in my life as I do now. ' 'I know. ' Leon did know . . he knew only too well. Picking up her suitcase he urged her towards the car. 'Come on, let's go home. ' 'I have no home. ' 'Yes you have. It's . . . with me. ' Giving an odd, twisted smile, she gazed up at him then. 'Ah, yes . . . I made a bargain with you, didn't I? Heads you win, tails I lose. Which side of the coin did you chose, Leon?' 'Let's talk about this later. ' He allowed Georgie to bound into the car, then settled her into the passenger seat and secured her seat belt. 'Have you eaten today? You must be starving. ' 'Not starving, just empty. Stop playing nursemaid, Leon. Let's talk about it now. My father would be pleased that I got such a good catch. ' Being categorized as a commodity was uncomfortable. She knew where to prod even when she was down for the count. I could buy and sell you a thousand times over . . . He closed his eyes for a second, experiencing shame as he remembered what he'd said to her earlier. Though it went against the grain, he had to give her some breathing space. 'The bargain is off. I won't hold you to it. ' 'But I intend to hold you to it,' she said quietly. 'I intend to do my best in the kitchen . . . but if I fail, as you seem to think, then I'll become your wife. ' " . . . and rent your clothes and put on sackcloth with ashes?" 'Don't spout the bible at me. ' Her eyes were sparking with anger as they met his. 'I have nothing to lose,

do I? But I warn you. Leon. Don't think you're going to get a subservient little woman tied to the kitchen sink - and from no won . . . you can sew your own damned buttons on your shirts. ' This is one contrary woman! What does she imagine she'll be doing in the kitchen - and how did my shirt buttons get into the conversation? He found it hard to suppress a grin. A little goading worked wonders. She was snapping out of it fast, coming after him with her gloves off. That, he could handle. 'Perish the thought!' he murmured, vowing he'd make her fall in love with him if it was the last thing he did! *** Darcie hadn't known what was expected of her in the kitchen - but this huge pile of onions to peel and chop wasn't it. Eyes streaming with tears she wiped them for the hundredth time, blew her nose and picked up another. Her fingers were stained yellow from them, as if she was a chain smoker. 'Do them under water,' the chef grunted in passing. After the onions came hundreds of carrots - then a million tiny potatoes. 'Don't forget to remove the eyes. ' She savagely blinded them all with the point of her knife. 'Cut the broccoli into florets and put them in soak. When you've done that you can have a five minute break before you wash the dishes we've used. I'll need them again. ' Delicious smells began to drift from the stoves and her mouth began to water as she hastily swallowed the remains of a cup of coffee. She'd been up since six and was starving. One hour before lunch - and was she looking forward to it. 'If you'd put those dishes in to soak it would have made it easier. ' 'Hasn't anyone in this kitchen heard of non-stick cooking utensils?' She glowered as she scrubbed at the baked on contents of the stainless steel dish. What had the chef been cooking in this, cement? Two hours later she still hadn't had lunch and a big pile of plates were stacked next to a monstrous dishwasher. 'Leave the pans in soak, 'Peter said. 'We'll run out of plates if you don't get a move on.' Her back creaked as she straightened up. 'When do we get to eat?' 'When the lunch rush is over. I'll show you how to operate the dishwasher. ' At least that was easy. Stack the cutlery and plates in the racks, slide them in, pull down the shining stainless steel hood, then when they were done, slide them out the other end. She was enveloped in a cloud of warm steam with each wash.

Scrape, stack, wash, stack again. Dry the cutlery by hand while it was warm. Why couldn't people eat with their fingers? She pushed the damp hair out of her eyes and wondered what Georgie was getting up to all by himself. 'Mister Price would like a grilled fillet steak and a salad. ' Darcie's mouth began to water as the smell of sizzling steak filled the kitchen and a cloud of blue smoke headed for the extractor fan. Leon liked his steak singed on the outside and rare on the inside. Hot-blooded steak! Be quiet, I refused to think about him. She watched his lunch born away by Jean, who gave her a wondering glance. She imagined him eating it, and silently applauded the chef, who magically turned lumps of bloody meat, vegetables, powders and spices into delicious, and aromatic works of art. Two hours later she wearily washed the last pan. The chef had gone off on his well-earned break. Only Peter lingered. 'I'll give you a hand if you like. The stove tops have to be wiped over, and the floor cleaned. ' 'When do we get our lunch?' 'Haven't you eaten it yet? Chef usually puts us something in the oven and we eat it when we get the chance. ' Peter investigated one of the ovens and came out with a dried up steak stuck to the plate by a sauce that had turned to varnish. It was accompanied by some dehydrated looking vegetables. Darcie suddenly lost her appetite and slid the lot into the bin. 'Peter?' Leon strolled into the kitchen, all smiles. 'I need you in the office to go over the indenture papers. How's it going, Darcie?' 'Wonderful,' she said sourly. 'Peter was just going to give me a hand. ' 'Unfortunately, he can't. ' His smile seemed genuinely apologetic. 'The terms of his apprenticeship has strict regulations attached to it. ' 'It would have. ' She gave him a dirty look. 'You're good at regulations, Leon. I think you make them up as you go. ' 'I don't mind helping out in my spare time,' Peter offered, looking uneasily from one to the other as if he sensed a storm brewing. 'After all, it's nice of Miss Channing to help us out until you hire someone else. ' So that was how Leon had explained her presence in the kitchen. She awarded him full marks for ingenuity. 'I'll give Miss Channing a hand myself, Peter - as soon as we've gone through the papers.' She waited in vain for Leo to come back. By two-thirty she was finished. Giving one last swipe to the counter with a dish cloth she headed for the chalet and lowered herself into a chair. A couple of hours to

rest then it would all be on again. 'I thought you were going to give me a hand,' she muttered when he strolled in. 'I did. I took Georgie for a run. ' He took the chair opposite and gazed critically at her. 'You look a mess. ' Georgie licked her hand in sympathy, then flopped on the floor in front of her chair. Tiredly, she closed her eyes. 'I do feel a bit limp. ' He chuckled. 'Ready to give in?' 'Not on your life. ' She gazed through one eye at him. 'I'll get used to it. ' 'You still have the rest of the day to get through, Darcie. ' 'Don't remind me. 'Drawing her knees up, she turned to one side and snuggled against the arm of the chair. 'Wake me at five. ' 'Sorry, no can do. I've got some people to interview. ' He kissed the top of her head, then murmured against her ear. 'Your hair smells like boiled cabbage. ' 'It's broccoli. ' 'Whatever it is, it stinks. ' 'If you withdraw your snout, you won't be offended,' she pointed out. Delicious little shivers attacked her when his teeth closed gently on the lobe of her ear. 'You've already had lunch, Leon. ' 'Constable Watson rang. I told him to come at three-thirty, so you'd better stay awake. ' She struggled upright and stared at him. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner?' 'I didn't want to distract you from your work. I thought you might worry. ' 'How very solicitous of you. ' Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as for one unguarded moment, his eyes reflected the wound her sarcasm had inflicted on him. Then they became cool and impenetrable, shuttered almost. Had he gone through childhood like this, shielding himself behind his gray eyes - hiding his thoughts from those outside? Had he ever let anyone inside his head? She stood, her hand reaching to touch his face, her voice soft. 'What are you thinking, Leon. ' A pulse beat in his jaw, then he slowly smiled. 'Are you really interested?' His smile should have warned her. 'Of course I'm interested. '

'I thought you might be. 'Taking her face in his hands he kissed her long and hard. She resisted the urge to move closer and slide her arms around him. Her fingers curled into her palms with the effort to stay away, her toes dug into the floor and the space between them was filled with a quivering gravity, as if he was the moon to her tide. Her tide was obviously going to lose, so she gave in. How unfair that their bodies fitted perfectly, as though they belonged together in love. His lips and hers pleasured each other equally, offering the promise of mutual passion. Trying to dislike him was impossible under the circumstances, when she was filled to the brim with wanting him. Her stomach suddenly gave a long ferocious growl, reminding her of its missed lunch. The kiss stopped abruptly as Leon's eyes caught hers in amused surprise. Laughter bubbled up in her. 'I didn't have time for lunch. ' 'No kidding! Tell me something I don't know?' I love you. So why don't you forget the kitchen and just marry him? Because it's happened too quickly, and I don't want to make a mistake. All he feels for me is a healthy lust. As soon as he runs into Helen again he'll realize. I don't want to be second best in any man's life. If, after the week, he still wants me, I'll think about entering a relationship, but marriage is out until I'm sure it's right for both of us. That's the sensible course to take. Having decided to be sensible, she moved away from him. 'Hadn't you better be going?' 'Is that a dismissal?' 'You said you had an appointment. ' 'I have several. I'm interviewing people for the kitchen-hand position. ' 'I see. ' 'I wish you'd give it up now, Darcie. You look tired. ' She felt tired. 'No. I'm not going to let you win. ' 'Okay,' he said wearily, 'have it your own way. I'll tell Shirley to send Constable Watson along to the office off the function room when he arrives. You'll be able to talk in private there. ' She tidied herself up and hurried across. It was a small room, furnished in pinks and grays, with a desk and telephone, three padded chairs and a filing cabinet. There was a vanity containing a wash basin tucked under a window that looked out over the lake. Her name was printed on a cardboard notice and stuck to the door with tape. Darcie Channing - Functions coordinator. It sounded very grand - and was tempting after peeling onions and wallowing in smelly dishwater. Leon certainly knew whereto put on the pressure, subtle though it was. .

Shirley followed her in with a tray of tea and some sandwiches. 'Mister Price told me to bring you these. He made them himself. And Constable Watson has arrived. He's a bit early. Shall I tell him to wait until you've had your tea. ' 'No, show him straight in, he's probably busy - but fetch another cup first, please Shirley. He might like some tea. ' Casually, she added as Shirley walked away. 'How are the job interview's going?' 'Good. I think Dave McCauley will get the job. He's done it before and has two kids to support. He's been out of work for some time, so they really need the money. ' The niggle of guilt she felt didn't stop her wolfing down a couple of sandwiches whilst she waited. She blessed Leon for the trouble he'd taken on her behalf, even if they were a bit bulky with cheese - and gave her an instant case of the hiccups! 'Miss Channing. ' 'Jeff . . . hic! . . . take a . . . hic! . . . seat Excuse me . . . hic! I've got the . . . hic . . . ups . . . hic! . . . oh hell!' Jeff grinned. 'I'll get you some water. ' He filled a cup with water and held it out. 'Take a few sips then hold your breath to the count of thirty. ' Her face turned red with effort as she held her breath, and a couple of spasms later she was back to normal. 'Thanks. Would you like a cup of tea? And call me Darcie, would you? Miss Channing's a bit formal for someone I went to school with. ' 'Sergeant Holmes doesn't encourage informality with the general public, just in case we have to arrest them. ' 'Well, next time you arrest me you can be as formal as you like - but at the moment you're out of uniform. ' He reddened at the reminder. 'Actually, it's my day off. ' He sipped the tea she'd poured out and gazed at her over the cup. 'I've found out what happened to your father. ' She took a deep breath. 'What?' 'Would you like someone with you, Darcie. ' Jeff half stood up. 'Perhaps I should fetch Mister Price. ' 'No. I'm all right. Just tell me. ' 'He was almost on the outskirts of Sydney when he stopped to change a try. He was hit by another car. ' 'Why didn't the other driver see him?' 'It was dusk and your father didn't have his lights on. It was no-one's fault. You know how it is on those long trips. People get tired, and become careless. ' She nodded. 'Did he . . . did he. . . ?'

'It was instant. He didn't suffer. ' Jeff's hand closed over hers for a second. 'He was cremated in Sydney straight after the coroner's report. ' Taking an envelope from his pocket he slid it across the desk. 'All the details are in there. ' Awkwardly, he stood up. 'I'm so sorry, Darcie. Your father was a good man and a fine teacher. ' 'Yes. ' She managed a shaky smile. 'Thanks for taking the trouble. I appreciate it. ' 'If there's anything else I can do . . . ?' There was more depth and sensitivity to Jeff than she'd first thought. 'This sort of thing can't be easy for you. ' 'It comes with the job, I'm afraid. ' 'Jeff . . . ?' she murmured as he opened the door, then changed her mind about what she'd been about to say. She'd wait until Colin got back from his holiday and approach him directly before she involved the police. Like Leon had said, there was probably a simple explanation. 'What is it, Darcie?' 'You've been very kind. ' He gave her a brief smile and left, leaving her staring at the envelope on the desk. She didn't seethe point of opening it. She picked it up and was about to return to the chalet when the phone rang. 'I've just seen Constable Watson leave. Are you okay, Darcie?' 'Fine, Leon. ' Her mouth curved in a smile. 'It's made it a bit easier knowing what happened to him. ' 'Do you feel like talking about it?' 'Not really. ' She gazed at the envelope in her hand. 'I'll leave the report in the chalet when I go back to the kitchen. You can read it for yourself. ' 'How do you like your office?' 'It has an ego- stroking ambiance, especially the notice on the door. But your sandwiches gave me hiccups, which rather spoiled the effect I was about to make when Jeff walked in. ' He chuckle came, dark and warm. She imagined him at the other end, his eyes simmering with laughter, and blew him an inaudible kiss. 'I must go and get ready for work. I'll see you later. ' No arguments this time. 'Don't worry about Georgie. I'll see he's taken care of. ' It was ten o'clock when she finished work, by which time her arms, legs and back ached. There had been a second mountain of onions - a thousand more plates and the pans had got heavier as the evening progressed. Leon said nothing as she staggered past him into the shower, but when she came back wrapped in her

robe, there was a brandy waiting for her. Warmth flooded through her limbs as she sipped it, and she shook her head when he quipped. 'I guess it's no good asking you to go out dancing or anything. ' Bed felt like heaven - but before she knew it, the alarm was ringing and it was time to get up again. Day two was a repeat of the first, except her aches increased and her hands seemed to take on a permanent onion smell. Leon shook his ruefully from side to side as he handed her the brandy on the second day. On day three she dropped a dish, and the newly chopped onions slid all over the floor. The chef sighed as she stopped to pick them up, but said nothing. They ran out of clean plates at dinner, and she was there until midnight cleaning up, the chef stopping to give her a hand. 'This job is too hard for you, Miss Channing. I don't know what the boss is thinking of letting you do it and I'm going to tell him so. ' She was too tired to drink the brandy that night. The next morning the alarm clock failed. It was eleven when she woke. Panicking, she struggled out of bed and groaned as she tried to straighten up. Every muscle seemed to be on fire. Leon appeared in the doorway. 'You needn't hurry, Darcie. ' She stared at him through bleary eyes. 'The alarm didn't go off. ' 'You slept through it. ' She shoved the hair back from her face. 'Why didn't you wake me?' 'Because I started someone else in the job this morning. ' He held up his hand when she glared at him. 'Before you say anything you regret, Darcie. It was on the Chef's advice. He said you're doing your best, but can't cope - he bawled me out allowing you to do the job in the first place. He was right. I should have put my foot down. ' She sighed, and nodded, feeling too relieved to be angry. 'If I ask nicely, will you make me a mug of tea whilst I dress? I'm parched. ' His expression became one of incredulity. 'You don't mind about the job?' She managed a shrug of remarkable casualness under the circumstances. She didn't like poor losers. 'I hated the job. I only did it because you were being so male superior - and let me tell you something else. That job should have been given to someone who really needed it . . . someone who's been out of work and has children to support. ' 'Like Dave McCauley?' he said silkily. She made her eyes all round and innocent. 'Dave who?' she cooed, then retreated into the bathroom and gazed soberly at her reflection in the mirror. Piling her tousled hair high on her head she stared critically at

it and muttered. 'Off with the old, on with the new. I think I might get this cut off before the wedding. '

CHAPTER SEVEN The subject of their marriage didn't arise for a couple of days. She'd moved into her office the next day to find a computer desk had been set up to one side. The computer was an updated version of one she'd used on her secretarial course, so wouldn't be much trouble to master - besides, Shirley had offered to help her if she ran into trouble. There was also a stack of stationary - and a red rose in a bud vase. She spent the first two days on the telephone - and by the second evening had come up with a list of requirements needed for wedding packages, and their costs. Pleased with the results, she handed the sheets to Leon after dinner. He ran a practiced eye down the list. 'Not bad, Darcie. but you've forgotten the advertising and the profit margin. ' "I haven't forgotten. Advertising is expensive - so I wanted to discuss what would be the most effective and perhaps come up with a budget. As for the profit margin, I need advice on that. I didn't know what would be a reasonable charge. ' He frowned in concentration. 'Your wage costings seem a bit low. ' 'Not really. ' She beamed him a smile. 'I got in touch with the local trades college. The tutor of the hospitality course is always on the look out for places where the students can gain hands-on job experience at weekends . . . and perhaps a reference for their CV's. It gives the students credibility with employers when the course is finished. ' Leon sighed. 'You mean we'd have a bunch of spotty teenagers running around the function room at weekends practicing at being waiters?' 'They're not all teenagers,' she argued. 'Some are married women who are trying to get back into the work-force. Besides, what's wrong with teenagers? They're not all spotty. I didn't get any spots when I was a teenager. . . though I must admit some of my friends had a few. They used to try all sort of concoctions to get rid of them. One girl used a lemon juice and salt face pack, and broke out in all these blisters. ' Her voice trailed off when Leon began to laugh. 'What's so funny?' 'The way your mind wanders off-track all the time. I give in. Use your students if that's what you want. ' He set the papers aside. 'Now, let's talk about our wedding. Sunday week is a good day. There's nothing booked for that weekend. We'll go into town in the morning, see this marriage celebrant you've got on the list, apply for a special license and buy the wedding rings?' Consternation on her face, she stared dumbly at him. This was no longer a game. Leon's smile could only have been described as smugly, triumphant. 'Surely you hadn't forgotten our

bargain, Darcie. ' 'I was hoping you had, 'she said, becoming suddenly spineless. His eyes narrowed. 'Not a chance. I offered you the opportunity to back out. You refused. ' 'You wouldn't be generous enough to offer me another, would you?' 'Not this side of twelvemonths, I'm afraid. ' He brought an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table to her before he stood up. 'The prenuptial agreement - and the results of my blood test. ' 'Blood test? You went and got a blood test? What for?' 'Because you're as slippery as an eel. I wouldn't put it past you to demand a certificate just before the wedding. ' 'Hah! I'm not as devious as you. It wouldn't even have crossed my mind. ' She pulled out the certificate and gazed at it. An array of code numbers with negative typed beside them marched down the page. Right at the bottom was a positive. ' She stabbed at it. 'What does that positive mean?' He leaned over and whispered in here ear. 'It means I'll have no trouble becoming a father when the time arrives. ' She blushed, and decided to visit the doctor herself before the wedding. Leon was too damned eager to become a father. She wasn't going to trust his arrangements. She'd take some precautions of her own. I'm really only marrying him to get my land back, she told herself without much conviction, I don't want his babies. Leon poured them both a brandy and sat back in his chair. 'Let's go over the arrangements. Is there anyone you want to invite?' She shook her head. 'What about you?' 'Just the staff at the inn. We'd better arrange the ceremony between lunch and dinner. About three, say. ' 'A practical suggestion, Leon. ' The hint of sarcasm in her voice stung him, but he let it pass. 'You'll need some money to buy yourself an outfit. I'll fix you up with a credit card. ' 'Thank you. Aren't you worried that I might buy myself a ticket to Alaska with it?' He gave a faint smile. 'I don't intend to be that generous - at least, not until after we're married. ' 'I'll try to find something suitable for the occasion. ' 'As long as it's not a hair shirt. '

An angry glance was tossed at him. 'I'm not stupid. No one apart from ourselves will know this is a marriage of convenience. ' Flags of colour rose in her cheeks. 'And in case you're worried. I intend to be a wife in every sense of the word. ' He grinned as a flare of desire spark in her eyes. She was coming back to life. The last thing he was worried about was their sexual relationship. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. All marriage would do was legalize what was inevitable between them. *** At two minutes to three Leon watched Darcie walk towards him through the small line of staff. She was alone, and looked wonderful clad in a silky cream ankle-length dress with pearl buttons from top to toe. His eyes widened. She'd had her hair restyled into a short swathe of silky darkness that curved around her jawbone. If it was done as a protest, it didn't worked. The style suited her to perfection, framing her heart shaped face and emphasizing her high cheekbones. Her eyes looked blue and enormous -though slightly scared. Yet she gave everyone a wide smile as she passed through the line of staff, and managed a passable one for him as she slipped her hand in his, and nodded calmly to the marriage celebrant - the first smile in a week. Fifteen minutes later they were husband and wife, and her composure had fled after he'd thoroughly kissed her deliberately unresponsive lips into softness. He made a short speech after the cake was cut and glasses of champagne handed around. Toasts were made, and after a speech from the head waiter - there was a presentation of a clock bought with a whip-round. After an hour they found themselves alone. He held out his hand to her. 'Shall we go, Mrs Price?' She worried at her bottom lip for a second, then nodded. Her eyes widened as he led her out to the car, and a faint blushed colored her cheeks. 'Oh, I thought we were going to the chalet. ' 'Is that relief I see in your eyes?' 'Certainly not. ' 'Then it's the opposite?' He chuckled as he settled himself into the driving seat. 'I won't keep you waiting long. We'll be in Perth in three hours. ' 'What about Georgie?' 'He's asleep in the backseat. ' He watched her grin when she saw the white satin bow tied around the dog's neck. 'He looks stupid in that. ' 'He's bought you a wedding present. It's tied to the ribbon.' The small flat box contained an exquisite sapphire pendant and matching earrings. Avoiding his eyes, she

fondled the dog's ear. 'Thank you, Georgie. They're beautiful. ' 'Of course, he didn't buy them all by himself. ' Leo gave her a sideways glance and grinned when he caught her eye. 'He consulted me. ' Her laughter came a trifle reluctantly, but at least she laughed. It was followed with a quiet admission. 'I've been terrified for the past few days. ' 'What of?' 'Being married to you. ' 'You've managed admirably so far. ' This time her laughter was more spontaneous. 'An hour and ten minutes is hardly a long time. ' 'It's flown by. ' His hand briefly covered hers. 'Relax, Darcie. I'm not about to beat my chest and demand a husband's rights. Nothing will happen between us unless you want it to.' There was a certain relief in knowing that, but with it came the realization she'd have to unbend enough to meet him halfway after trying to pretend he didn't exist for the past week or so. It would be much easier if he insisted on his rights, she rationalized as the car sped them through the glorious countryside towards the city, then she could reluctantly pretend to succumb to his advances in the time-honored manner, instead of having to admit to the needs and urges that had plagued her since she'd met him. It's just my luck to fall for a man who believes in equality of the sexes! A thought struck her. 'Do marital rights actually exist any more? I mean . . . . these days a woman doesn't have to submit to a husband's advances. She can just say no. ' He raised and eyebrow and grinned. Her colour rose again. He knew she wouldn't say no. As she surreptitiously examined the man she'd just married the tiny flutter of anticipation that had been with her all day flared into a healthy attack of lust. She had to physically stop her hand from straying to his crisp dark hair and had an almost irrepressible urge to kiss the softly curving mouth that softened the sharp planes of his face and his astute gray eyes. There was something hawk-like about his eyes. Despite his charm, Leon had the confident look of a man who knew exactly what he was about - a man who could instinctively handle himself. He knows how I feel about him. He's playing with me, knowing the outcome will be inevitable. The atmosphere is so charged with sensuality in this car that we've become lovers just breathing it in. Her breath caught in her throat as the reflection of his eyes in the driving mirror tangled with hers. It was an instant collision of blue and gray - his amused, predatory, hers almost an open book for her thoughts. 'You're a beautiful bride, Mrs Price,' he breathed as colour crept beneath her skin. 'I love your hair like that. I'm almost tempted to drive this car into the forest and make love to you right now - and to hell with

whose rights are being violated. ' He didn't of course - he couldn't. They were in the center lane of traffic. But the idea of a romantic interlude in the forest heightened her senses and fired her imagination until she could think of nothing else but how it was going to be between them. She was relieved when they reached the house and were greeted by the housekeeper and her husband. There was more congratulations, and more champagne. After she'd served them dinner, Anna discreetly retired to the small flat she shared with her husband at the side of the house. Leon went through his phone messages, returning the calls of those he thought important. He returned from his study, his face lined with a frown, but apologetic. 'Much as I hate the thought of leaving you. I have to go out. Will you be all right by yourself for awhile?' 'Sure. I'll get changed and watch the television. ' He kissed her cheek, then changed his mind and slid his mouth around to her lips. Darcie knew she was making it too obvious when she fired the kiss with the passion he'd kindled in her on the way up. He grinned as he backed away with barely disguised reluctance. 'I'll be back as soon as I can. If you get bored you can always investigate the wardrobe in the guest room. The wife of a friend of mine owns a boutique. I asked her to send a few things round for you to try on. Anything you don't like, she'll take back. ' If he thinks he's going to buy me . . . ? She resisted the temptation to look, busying herself by dragging the lounge furniture into different positions to keep herself busy. Her face fell as she surveyed it. It had looked better the way it was in the first place. The clock told her it was ten o'clock. Too late now to move it back, the morning would do. She'd take a bath. But to take a bath she had to pass the guest bedroom, and the door was open - and she couldn't resist taking just one peek. It looked as he'd ordered the whole boutique to be delivered. Abandoning any lingering thoughts of resistance she gave a whoop of delight. She tried on everything - evening gowns, day outfits, pant suits, and casual wear - then decided she couldn't bear to part with a thing. The bed was piled high with boxes containing enough lingerie to last her a lifetime, nighties, belts, scarves bags and hosiery. A full range of expensive cosmetics took up most of the surface of the dressing table. It was obvious she couldn't sleep there - there wasn't room. Besides, she reasoned. What would Anna think?' She'd never seen so many garments in her life outside of a department store, she thought a little later as she wallowed in the spa. Leon obviously wasn't mean. After she'd wrapped herself in a soft luxurious bathrobe she selected a black satin scrap of a nightie from the pile on the bed. She figured if she was going to be wicked, she might as well do it in style as she

wandered through to the master bedroom. A bank of wardrobes took up one wall and reflected the huge bed. Leon seemed to favor restful colors. Ivory carpet and embossed wallpaper - a dusky gold bedspread and matching curtains, a picture of marigolds in a copper kettle hanging on the wall. Double French doors led on to a verandah. The garden sloped steeply downward, giving a view over the river. She pushed them open and stared at the scenery for a few minutes, enjoying the reflected prisms of light on the water. The night was clear, but cold. Just beyond the trees on the opposite riverbank a glow indicated the moon was coming up. If she laid in bed and left the curtains drawn back she could watch it. Shivering a little, she closed the doors, slipped between the cool ivory satin sheets and watched the moon as she waited, with undisguised anticipation, for her husband to return. *** Leon was in a foul mood when he returned to the house. The meeting with Martin and Helen had been difficult. . . mostly due to Helen's refusal to allow Martin to think or decided for himself. Martin was weak - Helen greedy to the point of stupidity. She'd progressed from petulance to a fully blown tantrum that had left him seething with anger. She'd been at her most dramatic, something that would once have piqued his interest and amused him, but now simply bored him to death. Once she'd realized that, she'd changed tack, turning on the charm. Her attempt to manipulate him was so blatant that he'd stayed on after Martin had gone, intending to make it clear to her that she was undermining the negotiations - which would harm her brother in the long run. He should have realized it was the wrong thing to do. As soon as the door had closed behind her brother she'd thrown herself at him and suggested they spend the night together. 'Sorry. ' He'd peeled her arms from around his neck. 'My wife's waiting for me. ' Her mouth had fallen open, then she'd sneered. 'You fool, Leon. You didn't marry that little tramp you shacked up with just to spite me, did you?' He hadn't bothered to answer, just stared at her with all the disdain he could muster. 'You did, didn't you?'' She'd begun to laugh. 'Just wait until I tell everyone that you married some little opportunist on the rebound. You'll be laughed out of town, and nobody that's anybody will accept her socially. ' Her words had compelled him to turn and walk away from her - because for the first time in his life, he'd felt like hitting a woman. He'd been so angry he'd pulled a ticket for speeding on the way home, and had been required to take a breathalyser test. 'Some wedding night,' he muttered as he let himself into the house and found it in darkness. 'Even my bride has gone to bed without me. ' I suppose she's taken advantage of my absence to hide in the guest bedroom. He choked out a laugh as he strode towards the lounge in the darkness. She's probably locked the door as well.

He wasn't going to try and find out. He wasn't into the mood for a knock back. One stiff drink and . . . 'What the hell!' He'd walked thigh high into something solid. The momentum of his upper body tipped him forward, his head and shoulders landed on something soft and his whole body was somersaulted over on to the floor. He lay there for a moment on his back, spread-eagled like a stranded starfish. Darcie had obviously moved the furniture, he realized as he staggered to his feet and groped his way past unfamiliarly placed obstacles towards the hall. 'Women,' he fumed quietly. 'Put a ring on their fingers and they take you over lock, stock and barrel. ' He took a quick shower, toweled himself dry, then padded naked through to the bedroom, using caution in case she'd set more traps for him. "I'll be damned,' he said softly. Darcie was in his bed, sound asleep, her face bathed in moonlight. A tender smile dispelled his bad mood as he gazed down at her. One hand rested against her cheek, the fingers curled against the palm. Sliding into bed he unfurled them and gently kissed her palm. 'Go and sleep in your basket, Georgie,' she muttered, then turned on her side away from him and curled into a ball. Though sorely tempted, he'd promised her he wouldn't push this. When love happened between them he wanted it to be perfect, not one sided. He had no intention of giving her grounds to walk out of the marriage - even if he had to wait forever. Not that he'd have to wait for long. He smiled. No healthy man and woman could sleep in the same bed and remain immune to each other. It just wasn't natural. So he left her to her dreams, and managed snatches of sleep between his. When he woke in the early hours she was in the same position she'd been on that first morning. One slim leg was curled over his hip, her arm had wound between his arm and waist and dangled provocatively against his stomach. She shifted against his body, the silky material covering her an erotic whisper against his skin. Now I do have a problem, Mrs Price. He suddenly grinned. Or you have! Keeping her thigh in place with a hand around her buttock, he turned carefully towards her. One moonbeam stroked light across their faces, joining them together. He almost groaned when she snuggled herself against him, instantly available to her needs, and more than willing to provide for his own. Unable to resist the urgency of the situation he whispered her name and gently kissed her. Her mouth parted, responding with a trembling eagerness, as it had the first time. Totally relaxed, she smelt and tasted wonderful as she wound her arms around his neck and sighed. He held his breath when her eyes fluttered open. She smiled as she whispered, sleepily.

'Who the hell are you?' 'Would you believe, the three bears?' 'The three bears, huh!' She stretched against him in a sensuous, satiny slither that nearly finished him there and then, and gave a gurgle of laughter before she said hungrily. 'Make love to me very slowly, Leon bear. I want to enjoy every delicious second. ' She's going to torture me by degrees -she's going to exact her revenge by keeping me waiting all night. I know her type. She's into self-gratification! 'But then again,' she whispered, blowing his theory out the window as her fingers traced a shivering path down his spine. 'Perhaps we should get to know each other over an entree, and proceed to the main course from there. ' What could a mere man do, but agree? *** Who ever said you could have too much of a good thing was lying! Leon's skin was like fine burnished leather stretched over taut muscles. She was straddling his stomach, her knees firm against his hips. Sometime during the past half-hour he'd turned on the bedside light and dimmed it to a faint glow. She could just make out his features in the eerie light, the intimacy of his eyes watching her, his faint smile when she teased herself against him. Slowly his palms slid up over her thighs, over her black satin covering to caress the hard pointed tips of her breasts. She arched against the instruments of her pleasure, almost purring like a cat. He came upright in one fluid movement and kissed her. 'Let's get this thing out of the way. It's teased me long enough. ' Obediently she held up her arms, but instead of pulling it completely off he trapped her inside it, rolled her on her back and kissed her through the filmy material. Excitement raced though her as his mouth slid lower, then his thumbs were circling her breasts and his mouth was tracing an erotic downward path of nerve endings. She managed to escape from the constricting nightie, but was too late to stop him reaching his final goal. This was something he'd hinted at earlier - something she'd indicated she was shy of, and had never experienced. Yet when her fingers closed on his hair it was to keep him there, not to pull him away. She was, she realized, slightly tense and inhibited about this. The exquisite pleasure he was giving her now was insidiously erotic, yet cruelly soft. She allowed her body to relax, lulled into an almost hypnotic sense of well being by the gentleness of it.

Her brain seemed to shut down, leaving only one specific portion of her body still living. How alive she was to this secretly intimate caress . . . she drifted off to a world of pleasure and warm moist caresses. No, not warm . . . sort of sensual . . . and mind blowing . . . and . ……. 'That's exquisite, Lee . . . that's absolutely . . . 'Oh, my God! . . . ' she groaned, giving a long ecstatic shudder. Totally annihilated, she could only lie there in helpless abandonment when he came up for breath. His eyes were dark and enigmatic as he pinned her hands to the pillow with his. She rose up to meet him, wrapped her legs around his hips and gazed into his eyes. They made love like that, long and hard, her eyes gazing into his until the very last few ecstatic moments, when he slid his hands under her buttocks and supported her against his thrusting energy until they both climbed into a soaring climatic explosion. A little later, when his breathing had slowed and she snuggled against his side, he whispered in her ear. 'That was some entree, Mrs Price. It calls for a celebration. I'll fetch some champagne whilst you imagine what the main course will be like. ' She began to imagine whilst he threw on his robe and headed for the kitchen. She heard a cork pop, then a few minutes later Leon handed her a glass of champagne, 'Here's to you, Darcie. You're everything I ever dreamed of. ' I wish you'd said you loved me instead, Leon Price. She gazed into his eyes as she sipped the bubbling liquid, enjoying its tart taste on her tongue and the cold trickling river that traced through her insides, and felt like laughing with sheer exhilaration When the champagne was gone, Leon leaned forward and circled her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Desire leapt like a tiger into her breast when he whispered. 'I've got something really exotic on my mind . ..'

CHAPTER EIGHT Far from being tired, Darcie was charged with energy when she woke. It was early, the mist still rose from the surface of the river in eerie pale blue swirls as she eased the curtains across the windows so the morning light wouldn't wake Leon. Her eyes followed his outline under the covers. Some man I've married - some lover! She caught herself grinning as she tip-toed from the room. My imagination never carried me half as far as he took me. After a quick shower she went through to the kitchen, stopping only to haul the lounge suit and side tables back to their original positions.

Georgie rose from his basket to greet her, stretching back and front legs before taking up position at the door - an old sneaker dangling from his jaws. Anna must have given him them to play with, as the other, its sole hanging off, was in his basket. 'I'll see you at breakfast, huh!' she called out as he bounded across the lawn, tossing the sneaker up in the air, and snatching it up again as soon as it reached the ground. Making a pot of tea she carried it through to the bedroom, and placed it on the small table in front of the French windows. 'Milk, no sugar,' Leon said without opening his eyes. 'I thought you were still asleep. ' His eyes opened just a chink. 'It could be a fantastic dream, I suppose. Tell me, Darcie . . . did I imagine us indulging in the most exquisite lovemaking I've ever experienced for most of the night?' Married women shouldn't blush, she told herself as she took his tea over to him. Yet she couldn't believe she was married, couldn't believe she'd spent most of the night making wild, glorious love with this tousled haired, sleepy-eyed stranger. What had she been thinking of? Who was she trying to kid? It hadn't been making love, it had been having sex - and a feast of sex, at that! He'd gratified some of her secret fantasies - and she had plenty more he could indulge her in. As she felt herself grow moist, the tips of her ears turned pink. She should have denied him, she shouldn't have unlocked the door to the sensual side of her nature after keeping it under control for so long. Had he thought her too easy? Don't go all prim on me, Darcie. All the things nature designed you to enjoy, like lust and passion, are normal and healthy. Besides, you're married. The ring he put on your finger makes it respectable. She bristled for a moment. Who asked you for a lecture? I didn't marry Leon to have respectable sex. Let me tell you . . . he wouldn't have had to try very hard to get me into bed, with or without the legalities. That's because he knows women and senses the heat in you. He wants children, and has more of less said that he regards you as a brood mare. Some stallion! As she gazed at Leon's taut reclining body a wave of carnal hunger shook her. She wanted to fall upon his body, sink her teeth into his flesh and eat him for breakfast - buttered on both sides like a toasted crumpet. She gave a tiny shamed grin as her fingers reached out all by themselves, to touch his hair, to caress the sensuous curve of his mouth. The fine tremor he gave transmitted from her finger tips through her body. His heat reached up and surrounded her - overpowered her. She'd read somewhere that men had the same component in their scent to attract the female, as roses had to attract bees. Pheromones it was called. Leon's pheromones had honed in on the receptors in her brain, making her nerves thrust lascivious little darts into her female bits.

Settle down ladies, you're being too obvious! It didn't get any better when he lightly caressed the inside of her wrist after she set the cup shakily on the bedside table, and catching her gaze - kept it locked to his. Everything in her became weak and there was no need for words - which was just as well because she was struck dumb by the thought that her sexual desire didn't need anything but one look from him - and those powerful pheromones. Tea forgotten, they gazed a teach other while he loosened her robe and slid his palms gently up over her hardening nipples. She stood quietly, letting him touch her until the ache of her wanting was a silent scream inside her and couldn't be contained. Gradually, she eased the sheet from his beautiful, aroused body, straddled herself across him and abandoned herself to the eroticism of his caresses. But she wanted more than his hands, and leaned forward to place her aching breasts against his receptive mouth. His palms cupped each of her buttocks, easing her over him. Slowly teasing, he lowered her again, allowing her to accept him gradually until they were joined. His fingers were busy at her breasts again, bringing her nipples to tingling erectness before teasing a trail gradually downward over each erotic point. He watched her reaction, his eyes deep and serious, but a grin touching his mouth with each successive shudder she gave. She felt helpless under that gaze, unsure and exposed. She closed her eyes for a second, giving an involuntary ecstatic little sigh as his fingers caressed their ultimate target. She didn't know how long she could stay like this, with his eyes watching her reaction, making aware of her feelings - of her helplessness in the face of nature. It was something she couldn't control, as if Leon was intent on stripping every last inhibition from her, and was exposing it for what it was- a sham. He succeeded wonderfully, revealing to her how sexual a being she was by demonstrating that thoughts didn't matter, only feelings. And she felt . . . possessed by him, by her own cravings. Though she tried to bite it back, she couldn't stop the wild ecstatic cry that left her lips, nor the way her body began to move against his - as if it was trying to devour him. Five incredible minutes later she was cuddled in his arms absolutely spent - and they were smiling into each other's eyes. He gently kissed both of her eyelids. 'That was a great way to wake up. ' 'To be honest, I don't quite know what happened,' she said weakly. 'We happened. ' Leon had a self-satisfied grin on his face. 'I knew we'd be compatible. ' A tiny niggle of annoyance jiggled at her. Sexually, Leon couldn't fail to please any woman . . . and

probably had. A man didn't get to be this good without his pheromones getting plenty of practice! She didn't like the thought very much and gave him a dirty look. 'How many women have you been to bed with?' Shock came into his eyes. 'Excuse me?' 'I said . . . how many -' 'I haven't counted. 'His smile was replaced by a bland look as he pushed her aside. Scrambling out of bed he shrugged into his robe and strode towards the en-suite. He stopped in the doorway, saying just before he shut it, and with definite emphasis. 'And I'm not about to satisfy your curiosity by doing so. ' 'Hah!' she said, despite knowing it was a stupid thing to have asked him. Face burning she turned on her side and decided that going back to sleep would be less embarrassing than having to apologize. But she couldn't sleep, because the sound of the shower running kept her awake. After that Leon came back into the bedroom and opened and shut cupboard doors. A faint perfume of soap reached her nostrils as he moved about. Then came the slithering noise of arms being thrust though sleeves, and a zip being zipped. 'Have you seen a pair of sneakers anywhere?' 'Be quiet, I'm trying to sleep,' she snapped. 'Three thousand, six hundred and eighty two and a half,' he said. 'I hope you don't expect me to name them all. ' 'What!' She struggled up in bed and glared into his laughing face. Suddenly his hands shot under the covers and gripped both her ankles. She gave a squeak of alarm, then she was flat on her back and sliding rapidly under the covers. She emerged from under the twisted bedclothes fighting mad, but he simply wrestled her arms above her head and held her there until she began to laugh, then he gently kissed her and let her go. Tangled amongst the covers she watched his bare feet carry him towards the door, and remembering the sneaker clutched in Georgie's mouth, grinned. Leon was bright, he'd soon figure it out. He was cooking breakfast when she made her way through to the kitchen. The intimate grin he tossed her made her blush. "I figured you'd require a hearty breakfast to keep your energy levels up. ' 'Where's Anna?' 'I've given her a few days off. ' She smiled as she thought, at least I'll be able to cook the meals. Leon flipped an egg over in the pan then grabbed at a couple of slices of toast springing from the toaster. 'We can eat out if you like. '

'I can cook. ' He slid her a dubious glance. 'Really? You didn't strike me as being all that good in the kitchen. By the way,' he said before she could answer, 'did you move any of the lounge furniture around yesterday? I tripped over something in the dark last night and nearly broke my neck. ' He sounded a bit peppery about it. 'Does it look as though it's in a different position?' she inquired cautiously. He slanted her a glance, 'Should it?' 'Perhaps you were in too much of a hurry to get to the bedroom and misjudged things,' she suggested, her eyes gleaming wickedly at him. Grinning, he laid two crisp strips of bacon next to the egg and tomatoes before setting the plate in front of her. 'I must admit I was in the mood to throw you over my knee. ' 'So, what stopped you?' He dropped a kiss on her head. 'I've decided to save the punishment until you really step out of line. If you intend to move the furniture again, let me know in advance -and if you wish to lie convincingly you should get rid of the evidence, like the drag marks on the carpet.' 'Thanks, I'll remember that. ' She gave a gurgle of laughter. 'I hope you didn't hurt yourself. I was just trying it in a different position. ' His faintly mocking grin made her blush. 'I understand, Darcie. You're a bird who wants to build its own nest. Change things if it makes you feel more comfortable. ' 'No. It's a very nice house. ' Besides, what's the use of me changing it when I won't be living in it long enough to matter? Of more relevance to me. . . 'What's the house like that you're building at Petrel Point?' 'I'll show you the plans when we get back. ' Leon picked up his knife and fork. 'Eat up before it gets cold, then we'll take Georgie for a walk. Where do you fancy going for dinner tonight?' She gave him an indignant glance. 'Right here.' 'Are you really sure you can cook? You didn't exactly make the grade as kitchen hand. ' 'And look where that got me. ' His smile was whipped cream sprinkled with spice. 'You haven't complained so far. ' 'Neither have you. ' She out-creamed his smile with a cheesecake one of her own. 'Are you scared my cooking will bump you off and leave me a wealthy widow? Live dangerously, Leon. Name your poison.' 'Italian.' 'Simple.' She allowed her eyes to wander in the direction of Georgie's basket, gave a small scream and widened her eyes. 'Oh dear, Georgie seems to have commandeered your sneakers. '

'As if you'd only just noticed,' he muttered, smearing egg yolk over his toast. 'I'll buy you a new pair with my credit card if you like. ' Everything in her melted when he sent a sizzling smile her way. 'That's very generous of you, Darcie. Size ten.' Leon spent most of the morning on the telephone - and by lunch time came back with a frown creased between his brow. 'I'll have to go to a meeting with my lawyer this afternoon. Do you mind?' 'No. I intend to go out and do a bit of food shopping anyway. ' She placed her finger against his frown and smoothed it away. 'Is it all going badly?' 'Nothing I can't handle. ' He kissed her, slowly and lingeringly. Lust leaped like a tiger into her body. So easily did her desire come to the surface that she found herself murmuring shamelessly. 'How soon must you go?' 'Not until after lunch. ' He kissed her again, robbing her of her senses, then with his breath shivering against her ear he slid his arm behind her legs and hoisted her into his arms, whispering. 'But I'm not quite ready for lunch yet, are you?' 'I guess not.' She feathered tiny licks against his mouth until he stopped to capture her tongue in a tingling kiss that seemed to go on for ever. For the first time in his life, Leon was late for a business meeting. He dropped Darcie off at the local shopping center on his way out - and watched her walk away with a contented smile on his face, until she was lost in the crowd. Darcie headed for the bank, where, as if by magic, a large amount of money seemed to materialize out of the teller machine at her command - as if she'd just won the jackpot on a poker machine. The amount Leon had credited to the account made her feel slightly guilty. He'd already provided her with enough clothes to last her a lifetime - what else did she need except for a few dollars in her purse for emergencies? The shops in the trendy suburb were filled with high priced specialty goods. No supermarkets here to spoil the atmosphere, no garish adverts, just a discreet row of shops and beauty salons with unobtrusive toffee colored paint-work and dark green gables with gold lettering, all situated in a brick-paved mall. The cafes had outdoor tables shaded by vine-covered pergolas and sailcloth umbrellas. Trees in tubs graced the shop doorways, and the center of the mall was shaded by trees. The shoppers looked well dressed and relaxed - the pace was unhurried. Darcie made her purchases quickly, placing them in the basket she'd brought with her. She was tempted to treat herself to a coffee, but knew she'd have felt out of the place amongst the well dressed women who chatted familiarly together in pairs or groups as they sipped at their coffee.

Besides . . . I smell of Leon's aftershave and making love, she excused, grinning as she strode back home. I don't want to make them all feel jealous. The phone started to ring as soon as Darcie let herself in. She kicked the door shut with her heel, dumped her basket on the kitchen table and rushed through to the study just as the answering machine cut in. 'Leon, darling. I got your message. I'm sorry I couldn't make it this afternoon. I'll be in after eight, a few friends are coming over so why don't you join us if you can get away from . . . ' Helen gave a light trilling laugh. '. . . you know who?' The message clicked off just as Darcie snatched up the receiver to tell her that you-know-who had a name. A tidal wave of jealousy rolled over her. 'Find yourself another man, you liposuctioned alligator,' she muttered before slamming it angrily down again. She missed the receiver rest and hit a row of buttons. The contraption lit up like New Year's Eve at midnight and began to hum like a constipated alarm clock. After five unfruitful minutes of button pushing she impatiently turned it off at the wall socket, waited a few seconds then tentatively turned it on again. Fax paper rolled out of the slot and the display flashed on and off. Losing patience she flicked off the switch, tore the meter of dangling fax paper off, took it through to the kitchen with her and stuffed it in the bin. That problem solved, she turned her attention to the next one. Georgie was half way through eating one of the crusty loaves she'd brought home. 'You thieving glutton' she scolded, making a dive for the basket he'd dragged on to the floor. She heaved a sigh of relief as she retrieved a paper wrapped package. 'At least you haven't touched the mincemeat, but if you'd waited you could have had garlic butter on the bread. ' By the time Leon came home it was almost seven, and dinner was ready. She'd used the kitchen instead of the dining room. The table was set with a red checked tablecloth. A candle sputtered in a straw encased bottle with wax artfully trailed down the neck. A bottle of red wine breathed fire on the dresser. 'Ariverderci,' she murmured with a smile. She looked seriously sexy in a thigh length purple shirt that matched her eye-shadow, and a pair of snug black velvet pants that Leon could hardly keep his eyes - or his hands -off. She was definitely strokeable. Her hair curved against her chin like a sheet of polished ebony. Leon ran both hands through it before he brought her face up to his to be kissed. 'You taste of garlic and tomato paste,' he said afterwards. 'So will you after you've eaten. ' He loved her garlic prawns -asked for a second helping of lasagna - then washed down the garlic bread with the remains of the wine. He was smiling as he leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. 'You were right. You can cook. ' Her smile was slightly smug, as befitting one whose skills had been questioned, and proved right. Her eyes were inscrutable. 'Coffee?' She rose when he nodded, and leaned over the sink behind him to fill the percolator, which allowed him

the opportunity to run his hand over the black velvet curve placed temptingly within his range. His long drawn out growl said it all. Batting her eyelashes at him, she moved away, saying casually. 'I'll bring the coffee through to the lounge. How was your meeting?' The last thing Leon wanted to talk about was the meeting. He'd eaten well, now all he wanted to do to romance his lady in front of the fire with some wine and seductive music, then take her to bed. 'So-so. ' He rose, stretching to his full height to allow the lasagna to settle into the nooks and crannies. 'I'll check my messages whilst you're making the coffee. ' She looked suddenly contrite. 'The telephone was ringing when I came in from the shop. I . . . I must have touched the wrong button or something because it went sort of berserk. ' Leon tried not to laugh. 'I see. ' 'It made an awful noise and all this paper came flying out of it so I turned the contraption off at the switch. Well, it wasn't exactly flying . . . more like flowing. I tore it off and put it in the kitchen tidy. There was nothing printed on it so I didn't think it would do any harm, besides -' Leon kissed her to shut her up, and this time he couldn't taste any garlic at all, only a softly curved willing mouth. She stared at him afterwards, half smiling, and he stared back. God, she had the most incredible eyes! She was enchanting. He watched her take a deep trembling breath. 'The coffee's beginning to percolate. ' Reluctantly, he let her go and headed for the study. It would be wise to digest his dinner before making love to her. Besides, his fax needed reprogramming. After he'd sorted it out he retrieved the stored messages, frowning when he heard Helen's voice -and the barbed insult aimed at Darcie. He knew Helen had deliberately missed the meeting. It was her way of flexing her muscles, of telling him if he wanted her signature he'd have to dance to her tune. It was with disbelief that he heard Darcie's retort. He played it again, then grinning to himself, cleared the tape before joining her in the lounge. If Leon had got Helen's message he didn't mention it. Bleakly, Darcie wondered it had been wiped off. 'Was everything all right?' Amusement came into his eyes. 'There was no harm done. ' 'Did you get your messages?' 'Uh-huh. ' 'I see. ' She gazed at him, half expecting him to say something, but he just sipped his coffee.

'Did you get the message from Helen?' He didn't even blink. 'Uh-huh. ' 'Well?' 'Well, what?' Her hands went to her hips. 'Stop saying uh-huh in that infuriating manner. You know damned well what I'm referring to, Leon Price. ' She looked as though she might stamp her foot, so he tossed her a grin designed to infuriate her more. 'You're interested in knowing whether I'm going to see Helen or not, aren't you?' She didn't rise to the bait as he'd expected. She was wearing flat black pumps with gold embroidery on the toes and a bell dangling on the toe. It tinkled as she casually crossed one foot over the other. Her arms dropped to her side, but her head gave an impatient little toss that set her hair swinging. 'I'm not really that interested, Leon. You're free to come and go as you please - and I intend to do exactly the same. I might be your wife, but it's only on sufferance. ' 'You haven't complained so far. ' He smiled as he rose to his feet, amused by the casually studied aggression, which was at odds with her blush. 'I need Helen to sign some papers. You can come with me if you like. ' Her eyes began to gleam. 'I'm not in the mood to have a pair of fangs sunk into my neck.' 'Alligators don't have fangs. ' She executed a delicious little gurgle that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 'Is the phone bugged?' 'Sometimes it's handy to have a record of two way conversations. I'll buy you a mobile tomorrow. ' Placing his hands on each side of the chair he leaned down and kissed her forehead then gazed into her eyes. 'Are you sure you don't want to come?' 'Some other time. Leon. ' 'You're going to have to socialize with her some time or another, you know. ' 'But not on her home ground. ' 'Okay. ' He straightened up. 'We've been invited to a charity function tomorrow evening and will probably run into her there. Will you be able to cope, or should I offer our apologies?' 'I . . . I. ' She worried at her bottom lip for a second. 'Let me think about it. ' 'Everyone will understand you not wanting to run into Helen,' he said steadily. 'But there are also one or two people who'd like to meet you. '

'Everyone will understand!' she squeaked. 'What is this? How did everyone get a stake in our marriage?' 'Word gets round. ' His shrug said just about everything. 'I guess you could say the meeting between you and Helen will be watched with avid interest by all and sundry. The thing is, have you got the guts to see it through. ' 'Guts!' Her eyes flared in anger. 'If you think I'm going to hide in a mouse-hole you can think again. I'm not frightened of meeting Helen . . . in fact, if I'm going to be the main entertainment for the evening I'll give everyone their money's worth. ' Her hands suddenly flew to her hair and she groaned. 'God, I wish I'd never had my hair cut off. ' 'I don't. It looks great. ' Giving her a grin he bent over to kiss her. 'You'll knock spots off every woman there. I'll try not to be too long. ' 'I'm sure you won't,' she whispered, and when a few moments later she heard his car drive away, she began to laugh. *** 'The odor of garlic on the breath isn't very pleasant,' Leon said an hour later, seating himself on the side of the spa. 'Helen was not amused. ' 'It serves her right for trying to get another woman's husband into the sack. ' Darcie gave him a glare that nearly shriveled his eyeballs. 'I expect you to be faithful while we're married. ' Laughter attacked his midriff, causing him to suck in an aching breath to stop it escaping. 'What makes you think she was trying to get me into the sack?' Darcie jumped as he popped the cork from a bottle of champagne and watched the liquid foam into two flute glasses. 'Someone was. You have lipstick on your cheek. ' Leon appeared unconcerned as he rubbed a finger over the mark. 'That was deposited by Jennifer. ' 'Who's Jennifer?' Darcie thought she'd managed to sound relatively indifferent, but when Leon turned a strangled laugh into a cough she knew her inquisition had better be brought to a halt. Leon's ego was large enough. She didn't want him to imagine she was jealous of another woman. 'She owns the shop I bought all your clothes from. She was the only one brave enough to peck me on the cheek. I think she must have lost her sense of smell.' His eyes flicked to hers, faintly accusing. 'Everyone else shifted to the other side of the room and opened the windows. ' Picturing the scene, Darcie giggled. 'Perhaps I should have reminded you about the garlic. ' 'And perhaps you wouldn't have used so much if you hadn't heard the message from Helen on the machine - hmmm?' She avoided his eyes. 'You've got an over-inflated sense of your own attraction - did you get your

papers signed?' 'Helen put it off until another day. She was entertaining, and wanted to demonstrate to everyone that she's got me on a string.' He grinned down at her. 'Thanks to your liberal use of garlic, she couldn't wait to get rid of me. ' Darcie couldn't stop the pleased little grin that jiggled at her lips, and stuck a leg up through the swirling waters of the spa to wriggle an inviting toe at him. 'I don't mind if you smell of garlic. Would you care to join me?' 'I have every intention of joining you. But first . . . he trickled icy cold champagne over her provocatively displayed breasts. The delicate shiver she gave was accompanied by a long drawn out gasp when he leaned over to capture the liquid with his tongue before it hit the warm swirling suds. Bunching the front of his shirt in her fist she gently dragged him into the spa.

CHAPTER NINE 'You look exquisite. ' She felt cold in the clinging black gown, like a dummy on display in a shop window. Everyone seemed to be looking at her as she hung off Leon's arm, a smile pasted in place. 'How very nice to meet you, Mrs Price. ' 'Congratulations, Leon. ' Eyes examining her, cautious in expression, a nuance of surprise - a momentary widening of the irises from both the men and women. 'Leon has the luck of the devil. What a doll. ' 'She doesn't look like Helen led me to bel -' 'Shsssh, she might overhear. ' Leon gently squeezed her hand as she stiffened, and they exchanged a conspiratorial smile. There was something comforting in the ritual observance of social niceties, about the carefully contrived smiles - about the slightly astonished exchange of looks and subtly arched eyebrows. Did they expect me to have ears like a donkey? 'Courage,' someone whispered huskily in her ear, making her jump. 'Jennifer.' Leon threw his arm around a thin, elegant looking woman of undeterminable age and kissed her

on the cheek. 'This is my wife, Darcie. Be nice to her, she's terrified. ' 'Under the circumstances she's bearing up very well I'd say. ' Jennifer's smile was surrounded by the same colour lipstick Leon had displayed on his cheek the night before. A pair of warm brown eyes gave her the once over. 'You're everything Leon described . . . but more. He didn't say you were quite so lovely. ' Darcie sighed with relief at the woman's friendliness. 'It's lovely to meet you, Jennifer. ' 'Likewise. The town has been buzzing with speculation for the past two days. ' She gave a short husky laugh. 'Thanks to you, tickets to the function sold out within hours of your acceptance. It's so nice to have a draw-card. ' Darcie laughed. 'I'm glad I could help out . . . I think?' 'It's all for a good cause. ' Leon's glance wandered over the crowd. 'Where's Jerry?' 'Running a bit late, as usual. ' Jenny turned and waved at someone on the other side of the room. 'I must go, darling. Delphine is in a flap about something. I expect the name cards have been switched around again. By the way, I've put you two on my table. ' She threw Darcie another smile. 'You look sensational in that gown. I knew you would. ' Darcie relaxed a little. 'It's so lovely, anyone would look good in it. ' Half an hour later she was even more relaxed as she chatted animatedly to Laura, Jennifer's outgoing daughter. Laura was seventeen, and looking forward to finishing her final year at school before starting her university course in the summer. 'I'm glad you married, Darcie,' Laura said, laughing across at Leon. 'She's heaps nicer than . . . than . . . ?' she flushed slightly . . . 'anyway, I approve. ' 'Are you saying you no longer have a crush on me?' Leon teased. 'I haven't had a crush on you since I was sixteen. ' Leon chuckled. 'What happened then?' 'I met a younger man. ' 'Ouch . . . I shouldn't have asked,' Leon said, when Darcie laughed. Laura's eyes went past Leon's shoulder and her jaw dropped. 'Cripes . . . ' she whispered. 'What an entrance. ' There was a sharp intake of breath from Leon and the whole room went quiet, as with heart beginning to race, Darcie turned to look at her rival. The neckline of Helen's scarlet dress dipped almost to the waist. The leg was slashed to the thigh,

revealing a glittering garter of sparkling stones that matched the ones at her throat. Her golden tan, her sleekly dressed hair and perfect make-up, made her look sensational. 'Beautiful bit of engineering,' Jerry muttered, 'but she wouldn't want to exhale. Who's that giant she's with?' 'Perth's latest millionaire, Gary Morgan,' Jennifer murmured. I believe he discovered Latimer's Reef or something a year or so ago, but he went to ground afterwards. I've heard he's a bit on the bumptious side - but he's certainly presentable. ' Gary Morgan? Of all people. Darcie stared at Helen's escort through unbelieving eyes. She'd thought he'd left Australia for good. Leon laughed. 'It wasn't the legendary reef. He suspected there was gold on a site near Coolgardie. He pegged it. Rumors got around, and someone tried jump the claim by turning up to register it at the same time. There was quite a fuss made about it. It went to court last month. He won, then became a multi-millionaire over night by selling out to a mining company. ' 'Half his luck. ' Jerry, who dealt in real estate, rubbed his hands together. 'By the way Helen's hanging off his arm he'll need the trappings to go with it soon. I'd better go and introduce myself.' 'No need, they're coming over,' Laura hissed, and patted Darcie's hand. 'Poor you. Helen's a Leo, and you know how self-centered and attention seeking Leo's can be. If she gets too nasty give me a nod. I'll drop the contents of the ice bucket down her dress. By the way, what star sign are you?' 'Aries.' Laura's eyes began to shine. 'At least she won't get all her own way, then, in fact, things could get quite hot around here with two fire signs. ' Helen's eyes were icy as the pair moved towards the table, and she didn't take them off Darcie. Darcie's heart was straining like an over-wound clock - though her mettle began to rise as Helen's lip curled in disdain. 'Dance, darling?' Leon said, suddenly inserting a hand under her elbow and practically lifting her to her feet. 'Not just yet. ' She felt incredibly calm with Leon's hand for support. At least she was now at the same level as Helen - and she had no intention of running away. Why should I? People don't own people, and I didn't steal Leon from her. He proposed to her and she refused. Besides, it will be nice to see Gary again. Helen stung her with one last glance, then turned to Leon, drawling. 'You brought her then, Leon. I didn't think she'd have the nerve to show her face. ' 'Grow up, Helen,' Darcie said before Leon could get a word in. 'I've got no intention of engaging in a public brawl - nor of listening to your insults. Either behave like an adult - or go and milk your rattlesnakes. '

There was a titter of laughter from those near enough to hear. Helen's mouth fell open and her face turned the same colour as her dress. Leon's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline as he said in slightly awed voice . 'Darcie . . . ?' 'Darcie . . . Darcie Channing?' Gary began to laugh when she beamed him an encouraging smile. 'You look absolutely wonderful, my dear. I never realized . . . I could have told Helen she'd be unwise to cross swords with you. ' 'What are you doing back in Australia?' she scolded. 'You said you didn't intend coming back.' Gary grinned. 'I've had my fill of flying around the world and living the high life. I've come to realized that there's no place like home. I'm thinking of investing in a business, right here in Perth. I thought Colin might advise me. ' Everyone gazed from one to the other, as if they were on center court at Wimbledon. Darcie felt like giggling as she lobbed the next ball. 'Colin's abroad, but he'll be back next week. ' 'How's your father these days? I've been meaning to look him up. Did he get that university chair he was talking about?' A cold lump settled between her shoulders blades. It seemed that everyone had known about the university chair but her. 'Dad died, Gary . . . a few months ago. ' 'Oh, my dear girl, I'm so sorry. ' Taking a step forward he elbowed Leon aside and enfolded her a hug. 'I've been out of the country for the past few months. Let's go find somewhere quiet where we can talk. Excuse us, everyone. ' 'But, Gary . . . ' Darcie gave a helpless shrug as Gary bore her away, and glanced appealingly at Leon over her shoulder. Left standing there like an idiot, an ominous frown forked between Leon's eyes as he watched his wife born off through the crowd. How the hell did she know Gary Morgan? 'Well,' Jennifer said, for once at a loss as she gazed at Leon. 'How very odd. ' 'It seems your bride has a hidden past,' Helen murmured, her malicious tone an obvious attempt to divert attention from the embarrassing social snub, and the desertion of her escort. 'Care to dance, darling. ' Leon didn't waste any sympathy on Helen. She'd deserved everything she got, and he certainly wasn't going to fuel the inevitable gossip by rescuing her. 'Not now. ' He flicked her clinging hand off his sleeve as if it were something unpleasant. 'Actually . . . not ever again, Helen. Excuse me, Jennifer. I believe Darcie indicated she wanted me to join them. ' Snatching up Darcie's evening bag and wrap he set off after the rapidly disappearing couple. He caught up with them just as they'd got into the hotel lift and nipped through the closing doors after them. Sliding a possessive arm round Darcie's waist Leon glared at the larger man. 'Where the hell do

you think you're going with my wife?' 'Wife?' Gary's brown eyes gave Leon the once-over then settled reflectively on Darcie. He gave a wide, sheepish grin as he selected a button on the panel. 'You didn't tell me you were married?' 'You didn't give me a chance. Perhaps you'd be better off asking Leon's advice about investing in a business than Colin. He's a businessman himself. ' Leon's anger subsided somewhat when Darcie leaned against him and brushed a kiss against his chin before saying lazily. 'Did you have to go all Neanderthal on me, Gary? I was trying to make a good impression on high society. ' 'You could have fooled me. I thought Helen was distinctly unimpressed. Took off with her man, did you?' Leon stayed stony faced as Gary's gaze flickered towards him, despite the bantering look in the man's eyes. 'You'd better introduce me before I get my head knocked off. ' Darcie eyes gleamed with amusement as she gazed up at him. 'Leon, this is Gary Morgan. He and my cousin went to university together, and profess to be friends - though they mostly agreed to disagree. ' 'We debate,' Gary corrected with a grin. Leon stuck out his hand with a wintry smile. 'Leon Price?' 'I congratulate you on your taste in women. Darcie is a gem, despite her predilection for tying herself in knots at every opportunity. She's certainly turned into a looker. 'Having made her blush, Gary turned his attention back to Leon. 'Land development, isn't it?' 'At the moment.' Leon winced as his hand was enfolded in a crushing grip. Gary Morgan's brown eyes were uncomfortably astute, at odds with the man's general self-deprecating geniality. He was older than Leon had first thought, about forty - but fit looking. Leon was left in no doubt that a razor-sharp mind resided inside the homely facade of his skull. The lift came to a halt at the top floor, and Gary led them across the corridor into a sumptuous suite with windows that looked out over the shimmering night panorama of the city. He settled them both with a drink then took the seat opposite. 'Tell me, Darcie. How did your father die?' Seated beside her, Leon almost experienced the spark drain out of her as she told Gary all she'd learned about her father's death in a hesitant voice. He couldn't bear the pain in here voice, and knew he'd never be able to handle it with the ease of this big bluff man who spoke with the familiarity of a long association. He rose and walked to the window, staring unseeingly into the night as the man gently reminded Darcie of the good times, bringing memories to the surface, sharing them, and turning threatened tears into laughter. The exchange built up her background, made her a real person to him.

Envy grew inside him for that which she'd experienced, and he had not. She'd had a childhood of being loved and wanted - memories to share with this man - and nothing could be better than that. When I have my own children they'll always know what love is. Darcie's face was reflected in the window pane. There were tears in her eyes. She needed someone to love, someone tore place her father . . . she needed a child to love . . . his child. A sudden raw longing nearly tore the breath from his throat as he recognized his own need. He wanted to beloved - wanted to build up memories with someone - so when he was old he'd have good memories to share, and someone to share them with. He thought about Sarah Williams ,and wondered about her. She'd never had children of her own . . . yet she'd been the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known. There had always been this gnawing hunger inside him, he recognized now, a space that wouldn't quite heal over - that needed filling. Had Sarah loved him - or has she just regarded him as another child to set straight? She'd kissed him once, he remembered, and he'd jerked away, embarrassed. But she'd sensed he'd enjoyed the attention because she'd laughed and ruffled his hair. He remembered being angry that she'd known him better than he'd known himself. He felt like that now, about Darcie, suspected she could see inside him into that vulnerable little empty space. I'll ring Sarah, he thought. I'll tell her I'm married and invite her out for a holiday, just as I promised all those years ago. She'll like Darcie. Deep in thought, he was surprised when Darcie came to join him at the window and slid her hand into hers. 'Shall we go back down to the function. I'd like to dance with you. ' Anger dug into him like a burning skewer. Why would a woman who'd allowed herself to be bought, want to dance with him? He should refuse. All he wanted to do was take her home and make love to her over and over again, not be paraded on the dance floor like some sort of trophy. ' He knew he was doing her an injustice even thinking this way. Darcie wasn't like the others. But then, perhaps he was doing the others an injustice as well. He'd never allowed himself to get past a physical level before - and now he'd let someone get under his skin, he realized just how vulnerable it made him to have to put another's needs before his own. 'Do you really want to?' he said, keeping the reluctance out of his voice for her sake. Making him a slave to her smile, she nodded. 'Just for a little while. This hasn't been an easy night for either of us. I feel savage enough to want to pour some fuel on the flames. ' 'If that's what you want. ' Forgetting Gary, Leon tipped up her chin and tenderly kissed her. She's doing it for both of us. She's taken a stand, and now she needs to consolidate her position. I can understand her motive.

So they danced for a while, lightly clinging to each other and gazing with barely disguised sexual awareness into the other's eyes. As if they were madly in love instead of madly in lust, Darcie thought faintly. The socializing between dances was almost painful, everyone eager to meet her now Helen's attack was crushed. To the victor the spoils. Suddenly she couldn't wait to get back to Petrel Point. Darcie felt the anger smoldering inside Leon, and her own rose to meet it. She hadn't enjoyed the evening. Had things gone against her she'd now be the social outcast instead of Helen - yet her conscience ached for what she'd been forced to do. At least Gary had provided a badly needed shoulder to cry on. It had been wonderful to talk about her father to someone who had known him well, and Gary had always been so easy to talk to. Neither of them bothered to avoid Helen, who drank a bit too much and laughed far too loudly and for far too long. Eventually, she developed a convenient headache and was escorted away by her brother. Darcie sighed as she watched them depart. 'Why the sigh, angel?' 'I feel sorry for her. ' 'Helen's tough. She'll get over it,' Leon said unsympathetically. 'Are you always so mean about your former lovers?' 'Stop scratching. ' There was an angry glint in the eyes he turned her way. 'Helen and I were a mistake. I got it all wrong and feel embarrassed about it, okay?' 'Aren't you worried you might have made another mistake with me?' 'No,' he said shortly, then a grin pulled his mouth into a rueful curve. 'Let's get out of here before one of us breaks something. ' The sexual tension between them seethed and sizzled in the car. Nerves stretched to breaking point, they'd hardly reached home and closed the door behind them before they were tearing at the other's clothes. The intensity of their love-making was charged with a frenetic need to take from the other. There was nothing gentle and loving about it, just a driving need to satisfy the eroticism of the moment. Leon slaked his anger on her body with an impetus inclined towards need rather than enjoyment. Darcie matched the momentum with an eager fury of her own, as if the very mind-numbing act could make her forget anything else but the desire to satisfy the erotic, driving lust they were both experiencing. It took a long time before the fire they'd started was totally and utterly extinguished, until they manage to drop into an exhausted sleep. When Darcie woke Leon's side of the bed was empty. For a few seconds she listened to the silence of the house, then crawled out of the tangled bedding. She smelt of Leon - of their lovemaking. He'd been

careless last night, and so had she. The shower was blissfully warm and soothing against her skin. She shampooed her hair, allowing the water to slick through the bubbles as she stretched up towards the cascade. After she'd dried herself she pulled on some jeans and a floppy blue sweater and made her way to the kitchen, picking up their discarded clothes on the way. There was a mobile phone on the table with a note. 'If you want to know where I am, ring this number. ' She waited until she had a mug of tea in her hand before she punched in the number, laughing when Leon immediately said, 'What took you so long?' 'I've just woken up. ' 'That figures. ' His chuckle was almost a growl. 'I'm on my way back with Georgie . . . just passing the jetty. It's your turn to cook breakfast. By the time I get back I'll expect to see scrambled eggs, sausages, tomatoes and toast on the table . . . no garlic. ' I'm mad about you, Leon Price. 'Is everything all right, Darcie?' Everything's perfect. You're perfect. I love you. 'Everything's fine, Leon. ' After breakfast, Leon started work on the computer whilst she tidied up the kitchen and bedroom. There were constant phone calls, intercepted by the answering machine first, then taken personally. Noon brought Gary Morgan to their doorstep. He gave her a hug. 'I've invited myself to lunch, and brought you a wedding present. ' The small package contained a gold nugget attached to a chain bracelet. 'It was the first one I found. I thought it might bring you luck. ' 'Thank you Gary. I'll treasure it, always. ' Fastening it around her wrist, he kissed her cheek. 'Where's your husband? I'd rather like to talk to him if I may. ' 'He's in his study, working. I was just about to take him some coffee, so follow me through. ' If Leon was surprised to see Gary he didn't let it show, but welcomed him with a smile and an outstretched hand. Darcie left them to it, going back to the kitchen to prepare a lunch of home made chicken soup, followed by a Caesar salad. Burning with curiosity over why Gary had wanted to see Leon, she only just prevented herself sneaking across the hall to eavesdrop through the keyhole.

Neither of the men said anything when they came across for lunch - but shortly afterwards Leon's lawyer turned up - followed by Martin, Helen's brother and the partner in Leon's business. Martin was a paler imitation of his sister, tall and handsome, but without her air of exotic drama. His smile, when she opened the door to his knock was almost as personal as the slow lazy scrutiny he subjected her to. He was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt and had a sweater tied around his waist. He had poise of a man to whom things came easily - including women. There was a faint smell of alcohol on his breath. 'I'm surprised Leon didn't introduce us last night. I'm Martin. ' 'Yes, I know. I'm Darcie. . . Darcie Price. ' I wonder if I'll ever get used to the name. Martin's lips formed into a practiced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. 'I'm aware of that. You must be something special to have prized Leon away from Helen's side, hmm?' A faint blush crept under her skin when his glance grazed across her breasts. There was no mistaking the innuendo, nor the message in the eyes that met hers when he suggested softly. 'Perhaps we should meet sometime and find out what that something is. ' Her glance went over his shoulder and she gritted out. 'There's no need. You can ask my husband. He's standing behind you. ' Martin gave a chuckle of laughter, a chuckle that stopped when Leon's hand descended on his shoulder. 'I suggest you apologize before we go into the meeting, Martin. ' 'Of course. Excuse my questionable sense of humor, Mrs Price. I had one two many whiskeys for lunch . . . a celebration of my freedom. ' His pleading eyes reminded her of a spoilt dog. 'Would you be kind enough to rustle me up a cup of coffee and a sandwich?' Leon smiled approvingly at her when she nodded. 'I'm sorry, Angel. Perhaps you could make us all some. Hopefully, we shouldn't be too much longer. ' 'Where's Helen?' Leon asked Martin as they headed to his study. 'I need to speak to her.' 'She took off for Melbourne this morning. We had a terrific row last night. She tried to borrow money behind my back in an effort to gain a controlling interest. I'm sick of her interference. Thank God she didn't sign those papers before she left. I agree to all your terms . . . you'll just have to give me a little time to raise the money. ' 'I'm afraid it's too late for that, Martin. Someone has leaked it to the newspapers, and some of the contracts are looking decidedly shaky. We've got to move fast if the company is to be salvaged . . . . ' He who hesitates . . . ? And Martin was a lost cause, his share bought for an unnamed sum - she found out later.

Darcie realized there was nothing indecisive about Leon. He made up his mind quickly, and acted on it with ruthless intent. lain Television crews arrived at the house and she learned that Gary Morgan had bought the controlling interest in the company, which would be renamed Morgan & Price Developments. Leon would retain his seat on the board. Both men were interviewed for the evening news, smiling at each other and shaking hands. It was a lesson to her in damage control, that when asked the reason for the company changing hands, Leon slipped his arm around her waist and drew her into range of the camera, announcing he wanted to spend more time with his family - and the whole thing had been her idea. A passing remark to Gary that Leon was thinking of selling has caused all this? She smiled bemusedly when there was a barrage of personal questions thrown at her. When did they meet and fall in love? Were they planning a family? How would Leon react if I said; we met in his bed when he thought I was his fiancee but I wasn't - and I fell in love but he didn't. Though, actually, I only married him to get back my land - which I thought he'd stolen, but he hadn't. And yes, he seems to be planning a family - but I'm not? The whole thing is crazy, and I know how he'd react. He'd kiss me in front of everyone and I'd melt - and no-one would believe he couldn't possibly be anything but madly, desperately in love with me. Including myself!

CHAPTER TEN It seemed that they were asked out everywhere, Darcie got to wear every item in her wardrobe, and knew if they lived permanently in Perth she would need more clothes. 'I've suddenly become asocial butterfly,' she murmured ruefully, as she selected a soft jersey dress in dark blue for her lunch date with Jennifer. Leon's hands spanned her waist from behind, and her breath left her body as he gently bit the lobe of her ear, almost compelling her to lean back against him and invite him to slid his hands up over the silky black slip she was wearing. 'There's a surprise for you on the kitchen table. It will look nice with that dress. Have you seen my briefcase anywhere?' She found it under the bed, and enticed a lingering kiss from him when she straightened the knot in his tie.

'Don't tempt me,' he groaned, taking a deep steadying breath. 'I'm late as it is. Give my love to Jennifer. ' Leon was so damned sexy, she thought, allowing him to escape. He made her melt with just one look. He was becoming an addiction her body constantly craved. She heard his car drive off within minutes, taking him to one of his interminable meetings with Gary -who was being inducted into the business with a crash course in management. No wonder he'd wanted to sell the company. He was hardly ever home, except in the mornings and late at night. I'm thinking like a possessive, neglected wife! Her grin was tinged by a modicum of shame. Neglected, she wasn't. Leon always managed to find the time for love, often before she was fully awake and at her most vulnerable and responsive. He showered her with gifts, jewelry, flowers and chocolates. I've been spoiled and pampered, made to feel cherished, she thought as she pulled the dress over her head, slipped into her shoes and headed for the kitchen, wondering what the surprise was this time. I must tell him to stop buying me things. I really don't need so many pieces of jewelry. My honeymoon has been absolutely wonderful as it is - even if we do have to spend an extra week to give him time to hand over the business. The only thing on the kitchen table was a set of keys. She stared at them for a few uncomprehending seconds. They were not the keys to Leon's car . . . ? It hit her with the speed on an express train. He hadn't! He wouldn't have . . . surely not a . . . ? Grabbing up the keys she rushed outside. The BMW standing in the driveway was a shining dark blue - its personalized number plate read. Darcie 1. Bleeping open the door she satin the driving seat with Wee Georgie beside her, and placing her hands on the steering wheel stared at the array of buttons and dials. Everything was shiny and bright and smelled of new leather. She couldn't wait to drive it. 'Oh God,' she whispered to Wee Georgie, absolutely stunned by Leon's generosity. 'This is some surprise. We don't deserve it. ' Leon laughed when she called to thank him. 'Now you won't have to walk or use a taxi all the time. ' 'There's just one thing. . . ?' She bit her lip as she imagined a pained expression crossing his face. 'I haven't got a driving license. ' 'Ah . . . I should have thought to ask. ' He gave a resigned sort of sigh. 'You haven't been banned from driving, or anything?' 'Oh no, nothing like that,' she assured him. 'I just haven't had much luck in passing my test. I could never afford a car anyway, so I didn't really need a license. ' 'How many times did you fail the test?' She'd been hoping he wasn't going to ask her that. 'Does it matter? I'll go to one of those driving schools this time. '

'How many, Darcie?' 'Three,' she whispered, turning the word into a husky cough. 'Excuse me, I seem to have something caught in my throat. ' There was a moment's silence, then a chuckle. 'Did you say nine?' 'Certainly not! I said three. . . or was it four?' A grin crept across her face. when he chuckled. 'Actually, it might have been twice now I come to think of it. ' 'So, what happened?' 'My cousin Colin taught me. He shouted so much that I lost confidence and was always a bag of nerves when I took the test. ' 'Would you like me to give you a couple of lessons at the weekend?' 'That would be wonderful. I'll get a permit today whilst I'm out. ' With Leon being so good humored and patient, she knew she'd soon gain enough confidence to pass the test. She blew him a kiss before hanging up. *** 'What's Darcie's cousin, Colin, like?' Leon said to Gary when they lingered over lunch later that day. 'He comes across as a bit of a cold fish, but in actual fact he's a good friend to have - has a dry sense of humor and is as straight as an arrow. ' 'Not the type of person to cheat Darcie out of her father's money, then. ' 'God, no!' Gary sounded surprised as he looked at him. 'Darcie surely doesn't believe. . . ?' A grin inched across his mouth. 'If she accused him of that she must be feeling as mad as hell with him. ' He gave a short bark of laughter. 'Actually, the pair of them are chalk and cheese, always have been. ' 'Tell me about him. ' Gary leaned back in his chair. 'What do you want to know?' 'Everything. ' 'Okay. Colin and Darcie's fathers' were twins. His parents were missionary's who disappeared in Cambodia. Colin was in boarding school in England at the time, and came out to Australia to join his uncle's family. Darcie was about six then. Colin said she was furious when he moved in. She didn't speak to him for weeks.' 'Why?' 'Jealousy. Having lost her mother she clung to her father, and Colin diverted some of the attention away from her. '

'Darcie was always a funny, contrary little thing . . . ' Gary said with a smile. 'Shy for most of the time, but when she was pushed into a corner she always came out with her claws at the ready. Colin used to tease the hell out of her just to make her mad. When she grew older and twigged on, she turned the tables on him. She had him tearing his hair out when he insisted the driving school was a waste of money and he'd teach her to drive himself. ' Leon grinned. 'What about the father. What was he like?' 'One of those vague intellectual types who prided himself on his rhetoric and thrived on worship from the less gifted. He was well liked and made grand generous gestures, but he seemed self-centered to me. Everything Colin and Darcie did for him he took for granted - but if he did something for them he always managed to make it sound like a grand sacrifice, so they were left feeling guilty. ' Leon remembered the letter Darcie had received from her father. "He did it for me," she'd said. Her father had even made her feel responsible for his death. 'Was Darcie neglected?' 'Not exactly, but she had to fight for his attention. He'd give his last dollar to charity without bothering to check if she needed a pair of shoes or a coat first. Colin practically assumed the role of father when she was growing up, and Darcie resented it. Yet when he went to university she ended up being little more than her father's housekeeper. She did everything for him . . . except manage the finances. Colin took those in hand as best he could, and managed to keep their heads above water. I'm surprised her father made a move to better his career. He was the type who relished being a big fish in a small pond. I'm even more surprised Darcie didn't know about it, though her father didn't place much value on the opinion of women. Darcie worshipped him unconditionally, which is all his ego would allow. I imagine that's one of the reasons his wife left him. ' 'The career move didn't do him much good. ' 'Darcie must be cut up about his death . . . not that she'd show it. She's always got her guard up. I've never seen that girl cry about anything. ' 'She cried,' Leon said softly, then turned towards the door when his former secretary came in. 'Yes, Frances?' He smiled when her glance went in uncertainty to Gary. 'Sorry, your call, Gary. I keep forgetting. ' 'Yes, Frances?' said Gary, chuckling as he mimicked Leon's voice. Frances smiled at him. 'Philip Gregory just called. He said he's running late. He'll be about two hours behind for the meeting this afternoon. ' 'He'll be playing golf with Martin, I should imagine,' Leon said softly. 'Are his supplies essential to us?' 'His product is no better or worse than that of other suppliers . . . who, I might add, are just as competitive. Martin contracted this one through the old boy network. ' 'Get Gregory on the phone please, Frances. Put the call through to me. '

'Gregory, where are you?' he barked a couple of minutes later, then. 'I'm not rescheduling all my appointments to accommodate a game of golf. Get your arse in here pronto if you want my business, or I'll use another supplier. ' Gary banged down the receiver, stood up and stretched. 'Right, let's pick up the architect and the building engineer, then go and inspect the site for the shopping center complex. ' 'And Gregory?' Leon said, his grin letting Gary know he liked his style. It seemed the company he'd worked so hard to build up was now in good hands. Gary grinned. 'He can damned well wait here until I'm ready to see him. If he doesn't, he's gone. ' *** Ricardo's seemed to be the place for ladies to lunch on Thursdays. The place was crowded with women and the air twittered with gossip, as if it were a perfumed aviary. Darcie and Jennifer had been unexpectedly joined by two other women over coffee. They'd kissed the air at either side of her cheek, and chatted about people Darcie didn't know before flitting off to another table to recount it all over again. Jennifer seemed to know everyone, and there were frequent coming's and going's. The food was good, the service bad with a long wait between courses because the waiters, all young men, chatted with the customers in too familiar a manner. Darcie learned that someone called Philly was getting a divorce, and that Amanda Swift was having an affair with Paul. Someone asked Jennifer if it were true Leon Price had got married on the rebound - and had she met his wife? 'I've heard she's a little nobody from the country, but rumor has it she's a friend of that millionaire, Gary Morgan. ' 'Rumor is right,' Darcie said coldly. Jennifer slipped her an apologetic smile and hastily introduced her. 'This is Darcie Price, Joanne. ' 'Whoops! I'm most sorry darling, you must bring Darcie over for lunch so I can get to know her. ' 'I don't think so, ' Darcie said sotto voce as the woman walked away. 'I'd forgotten Thursday was ladies day. I hope you can forgive me, Darcie. ' Darcie's smile said she would, but she was dying of boredom, and resolved never to come to Ricardo's for lunch again as she glanced at her watch. It had lasted nearly three hours. She rose to her feet and murmured, 'I'd better ring for a cab. I promised Leon a steak and kidney pie for

dinner and it takes time to prepare. ' Jennifer called for the bill. 'I'd drive you home myself but I've got to collect Laura from school and take her to a dental appointment. ' Outside the restaurant she took Darcie's hands in hers and smiled. 'Look, my dear, I hope you won't hold what happened with Joanne against me. She's not a bad sort. The day has been an absolute disaster and I can't apologize enough. ' 'It's not your fault. Joanne was right. I am a little nobody from the country. I don't fit into this scene, and if I didn't happen to be married to Leon, I don't suppose I'd even bother to try. ' Jennifer gave her a brief hug. 'No wonder Leon snapped you up so fast. You're like a breath of fresh air. ' For as long as the marriage lasts. Darcie thought about it as the taxi bore her home. She and Leon were virtual strangers. She knew nothing about his background, except what he'd let slip - that he'd been brought up in one foster home after another. It was obvious he was talented. He'd built up a successful business from scratch and had become wealthy in the process. Yet he was able to hand over the reins once he'd achieved what he'd set out to do, so he wasn't driven by greed. Now his goal was marriage and children. He wanted to build something he'd never had for himself - an ideal family. She'd fallen neatly into the spot Helen had vacated. He'd discovered her weakness and taken advantage of it. Their relationship was based on a sexual attraction that was hot and wild, and seemed to feed off itself. How could a relationship survive such a furnace of sensuality long term? Leon was generous to a fault, but the suspicion was there that he was drawing her inexorably into his web, getting her used to having the luxuries of life, so eventually she wouldn't be able to live without them. One year, he'd said. He'd given himself one year to buy her love. What then? Two children - with himself as the devoted father. He'd be a wonderful father, she had no doubt about that. But what would happen to her once her usefulness was over? Divorce, with a generous settlement for services rendered? She gazed at the expensive car he bought her as she paid off the taxi cab. Would that be part of the settlement, an exchange for the children she'd given him? She hadn't even read the prenuptial settlement before she'd thrown it - unsigned-into a drawer. She wished she hadn't married him as she let herself inside the house. She'd accepted his terms, and now he'd regard her as a gold-digger. He'd never believe she'd actually fallen in love with him. Anna had cleaned the house whilst she was out. It smelled of polish, and everything was set neatly in its place. This was a beautiful house, stylishly furnished and decorated -but it wasn't a home. There was no way she was going to emulate those women she'd seen at Ricardo's today and she was almost tempted to take seriously Leon's suggestion to redecorate the place. But what was the point? She wouldn't be in it long enough to enjoy it.

She shuffled through the letters on the hall table. A couple of bills - a gilded invitation to a wedding, and a postcard from England. It wasn't her mother's handwriting. Arriving on the 30th. Ring me ASAP for details. Much love, Sarah. Much Love? Darcie frowned as she slipped the postcard between the bills and headed towards the kitchen to change. Another woman from Leon's past? It would be interesting to see if he mentioned the postcard when he came in. He didn't. He took the mail through to his study, then checked his messages. It was his habit to return his calls straight away, and she heard the rumble of his voice on the phone. With a pang of jealousy, she wondered if he was talking to Sarah. He was all smiles when he came back into the kitchen. Nuzzling his nose into her hair, he whispered. 'Something smells good. ' She pulled away from his embrace, busying herself by taking knives and forks from the drawer in the dresser. 'Steak and kidney pie. ' He turned her round to face him, holding her at arm's length. 'Is something wrong?' The concern in his eyes made her feel guilty about what she was about to say. 'Yes, and I wish I'd spoken to you before you'd bought that car. I don't feel easy about all the gifts you're giving me, Leon. ' 'I see. ' The instant flare of hurt in his eyes was replaced by an amused cynicism as he drawled. 'This morning, you were delighted. ' 'I know. ' She had to look away from him. 'It's just that I've been thinking things through. I feel as if you're trying to buy me. ' 'Bought. Past tense. ' He gripped her chin forcing her face round to his. 'I consider that I got a bargain. You're wonderful in bed, look good, and can even cook. That was a bonus I didn't expect. ' Instinct told her that Leon was simply hiding his hurt behind sarcasm. 'Don't do this, Leon,' she murmured. 'I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. ' His eyes had a flat gray look to them, like a film of ice over water. 'What are you trying to do?' Trying to insure myself from anguish. Trying to fall out of love with you. I don't know what I'm trying to do. I'm all mixed up. 'You're spending a fortune on me, Leon. I'm not used to it. ' His expression softened a fraction. 'Can't you get used to it?' 'I don't want to. ' A smile flitted across his mouth. 'You're running scared. You're like a cornered rabbit, you don't know where to run. '

She glared at him. 'You don't scare me. ' 'I know. It's yourself you're scared of. You came back from overseas and were forced to rely on your own resources. In the process you learned things about yourself that make you uncomfortable. ' She stared at him, wide-eyed. 'Such as?' 'Such as, you're not somebody's child any more, you're a desirable woman. Being my wife makes you an equal partner in my book, and you don't quite know how to handle the responsibility. ' 'That's not true. ' 'I haven't finished. 'His lips brushed against hers as he whispered. 'You've discovered you're a highly sensual woman who is capable of using her body to satisfy her own needs - and to attain her own ends. You didn't have to marry me, Darcie. Your biological clock started ticking as soon as our eyes met and you realized that you needed a mate. ' 'I could have just gone to bed with you,' she whispered. 'And would have eventually. You preferred the security of marriage. You wanted me, and my money. You found me comfortable to be with. ' 'Wrong,' she said faintly, because he was feathering miniature kisses along her jaw-line and everything inside her was beginning to go haywire. 'I only married you because I felt sorry for you. I don't want your money, you can go and paper the hen-house with it as far as I'm concerned. As for finding you comfortable . . . ?' She was quivering against him like an over-strung bow and found herself growling. 'You're entirely uncomfortable at this moment.' His breath shivered crazily against her eardrum. 'How long before the steak and kidney pudding is cooked?' Her fingers groped towards the stove, found the knob and turned the flame down under the pan. She slid her arms up around his neck and met the desire in his eyes head on. 'Long enough . . . ' Later, she was annoyed with herself for allowing him to demonstrate her weakness by exploiting it. Only when she admitted to herself that her anger stemmed from the fact that Leon hadn't seem fit to mention the mysterious Sarah, did she find herself in a calmer mood. She was jealous when she really had no right to be. Leon had never promised to love her. Her driving lessons with Leon didn't go too well the following weekend. She was nervous, even though he didn't shout, and took her to a quiet track to become familiar with the car. Everything he said seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Finally, she leaned her head on the steering wheel and groaned out loud. 'You can drive, but you lack confidence in yourself,' he said quietly. 'You're so used to failing that you expect to. Drive us home. ' 'What!' she gasped, immediately beginning to tremble. 'You mean, drive on the road . . . with the traffic?' 'That's the usual place to drive. You know all the road rules, don't you?'

'I can't, Leon. ' 'Can't, or won't? You must have had plenty of driving lessons with your cousin if you sat the test all those times. You're either dim-witted, or a coward. Which is it, Darcie?' Colin had said those very same words, only he'd shouted them at her. Colour rose to her cheeks. Throwing him a flaming look she ground out. 'Make sure your seat belt is fastened.' He'd taken a calculated risk, and it was like waving a red rag at a bull, Leon knuckles gripped the edge of his seat as the car took off in a cloud of dust. 'Slow down,' he said in as reasonable a voice as he could muster, then tried to think of some prayers when she reached the road and skidded into a slot in the traffic. 'Jeeze,' he whispered, catching sight of her tense profile. 'If you want me to take over, just signal and pull on to the road verge. ' 'And prove you're right,' she muttered. 'Not on your damned life, Leon Price. You want me to drive, I'll drive. ' And drive she did, clinging on to the steering wheel with white knuckles, her eyes staring straight ahead. She cursed softly now and again when some other driver was foolhardy enough to get too close to her, but mostly they gave her a wide berth when they saw the learner's plates prominently displayed. 'The lights are about to turn red, slow down,' Leon said as calmly as he could. She speeded up and shot through them on amber, then nodded, and smiled to herself. 'I said . . . slow down. ' She shot him a quick, uncomprehending glance and slowed to a crawl. He sighed. 'Not now. At the last set of lights. ' 'Why? They weren't red. ' He sighed. 'Never mind. Speed up a bit, you're holding up the traffic. ' 'Make up your mind. ' She put her foot down and the car surged forward - then just as Leon thought she was about to ram the car in front she eased down. ' 'Too close,' she muttered to herself, 'Leave two cars lengths. ' He watched her check the driving mirror. She knew all the moves, but just didn't seem to be able to co-ordinate them. 'Indicate, and gradually slowdown,' he murmured, 'you'll be turning left at the next set of lights.' She took the corner a bit fast, the tires squealing on the tarmac. The car pulled across into the oncoming lane and just missed another car coming in the opposite direction. A horn blasted. 'Whoops!'

Leon clenched his teeth in an effort not to swear. Once they were on the quieter road leading home she began to relax a bit, and attacked the roundabout with a confident verve, circumnavigating it twice before she selected the correct road to take. Then the wrought iron gates of the house were looming in front of them. 'Slow down, Darcie,' he yelled, 'give them time to open. ' She stood on the brakes and the car skidded towards the slowly opening gates. They slid through with alight scrape signaling an injury to the right wing. The car skewed sideways and came to rest in a flower bed. She switched off the ignition and turned to stare at him, her eyes wary and anxious, her mouth mutinous, like someone waiting to be shouted at. Adrenaline salted his tongue. 'That wasn't too bad,' he lied, deciding he could afford to be generous now he was out of danger. Her eyes widened, then a tiny relieved grin pulled the mutiny into the corners of her mouth. 'I thought it was lousy. I was terrified. ' So was I. He forced a smile to his face. 'You seemed quite confident to me. I'm sorry I yelled.' The blue of her eyes deepened, filled with amusement. 'You have to be the biggest liar in the world, but thanks for being nice to me. I'll do better now I know you're not going to jump down my throat every time I do something wrong. ' Her voice was as amused as her eyes and Leon had the feeling she was laughing at him. Something Gary had said came into his mind. She had Colin tearing his hair out when he insisted a driving school was a waste of money. Had her driving been a deliberate attempt to scare him off? If it had, she'd succeeded. He leaned across the seat and lightly kissed her. 'Right, now you've given me a test run, what's your driving really like?' 'Better than it was today. The last time I took my test I only missed out by one point. ' A funny twisted smile flitted across her mouth. 'To be quite honest, I can't concentrate with you sitting beside me.' She gave a husky laugh that set the hairs on his wrists prickling. 'Would you mind if I went to a driving school?' Mind? I'd be relieved. He'd decided she felt inadequate and nervous with someone she knew teaching her. Colin's brow-beating had made her feel incompetent. He could understand that. 'If that's what you want. I'll leave it up to you to organize. If you get your license by the end of the week we'll fly to Singapore for the weekend and do some shopping. ' 'You're on. ' He smiled at her eager, expectant face and kissed her again. He'd already booked the flight and hotel as a surprise for her.

She surprised him. By the end of the week, and with only five lessons under her belt she came home bubbling with excitement and waving her license in the air. He swept her up in his arms and kissed her. 'Great, go and get packed. We take off in four hours. . . ' Her mouth opened slightly. 'It thought you were joking, Leon. I can't go to Singapore. ' 'Why not?' 'I need a shower and my hair needs washing, and . . . ' He kissed her again, longer and more passionately, and she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Whilst they were together under the shower he found time to wash her hair for her . . . and they still managed to make the airport on time.

CHAPTER ELEVEN If great sex was all there was to marriage, Darcie knew she could be happy for ever with Leon. But sex wasn't all there was to it, as they both found out when they arrived back at the Argyle Inn the following week to discover her cousin Colin waiting for them in the chalet, the letter she'd left in his letter box clutched in his hand. In his usual fashion, Colin started in with his lecture before even being introduced. 'How could you have done such a stupid thing as marry a man you'd only just met?' 'Well-' 'Don't interrupt, Darcie,' Colin thundered. 'The dust has hardly settled on your father's accident. What you've done is something so stupid that it's beyond reason. You even broke into my house. It would teach you a lesson if I had you charged. ' 'There was a reason,' Leon interrupted, watching Darcie's face grow pale and tense. 'Darcie arrived home to discover her bank account closed, and everything she owned gone. If she hadn't married me she'd have starved to death on the street. ' 'Nonsense!' Colin spluttered, going red in the face. 'She has a home . . . and she could have applied for social services if she had difficulties finding employment. It's not my fault she came home earlier than I expected. Why did you, Darcie?' 'I needed to know what happened to dad and where he's buried. I didn't have time to say goodbye to him. Can you understand that, Colin?' 'But I wrote and told you all about it as soon as I got things sorted out. When my transfer suddenly came through and I decided to take my holiday, I wrote again with my new address, and to let you know where Georgie was. I intended to ring you, but there was no phone number in the book, and when I tried

inquiries it was ex-directory. ' 'I didn't get your letters. ' Puzzlement came into his eyes. 'I can understand one going astray, but two? I'm sure it was the right address. I got it from your father's address book. Makepeace Street. ' 'Makapin Road. Dad got it wrong. You know how absent-minded he can be . . . was at times . . . ' She shrugged. Colin's eyes softened. 'Then they must have been returned to my new address. What a mess. I'm so sorry, Darcie. ' 'I guess it wasn't your fault. ' 'I thought it was better if he was cremated. I've had his ashes brought across. I thought we might have a memorial service and bury them at the local cemetery before I leave. ' Tears filled Darcie's eyes. This man's about as sensitive as a lump of wet clay. Leon stared hard at Colin Channing. He was a bit on the plump side, with thinning hair and spectacles framing pale blue eyes. Colin stared back at him, hardly bothering to disguise his contempt as he accused. 'I suppose you married Darcie for her inheritance. ' 'Oh, for God's sake, stop being a pain in the neck, Colin,' Darcie broke in wearily, her tears forgotten. 'This is Leon Price. He owns this Inn, and could buy us both a thousand times over and still have some change in his pocket. ' It's odd how money equals credibility, Leon was thinking as Colin's attitude began to change before his very eyes. Is my bank balance a measure of my worth as a man? 'Leon Price of development company fame?' Colin looked slightly bewildered, though definitely impressed. 'You're the man who bought the spare block of land next to Darcie's place from my uncle. I never realized?' A sense of impending disaster centered in Leon's diaphragm when he heard Darcie give an astonished gasp. Eyes narrowing, she transferred her gaze from her cousin back to him. 'Spare block of land?' Mystified, Leon shrugged and spread his hands. 'The one your father always stalked about building a tea room on - I remember him applying for a loan once but I had to turn him down. He had absolutely no business sense. She has a home, Colin had said. But Leon pulled my home down.

A growl gathered in Darcie's throat as she locked her gaze on to Leon's. 'Are you saying that dad didn't sell the house, only the adjoining block of land. Colin?' 'Of course. He never intended to leave here permanently. He was keeping the place for holidays, and his retirement. He came in to collect one deed, but the second is still in a safety deposit box in the bank. ' 'Was the block paid for? I discovered the bank account had been closed. ' 'Of course it was. He did better out of it than he expected. He transferred the balance to a branch in Sydney just before he died. He didn't make a will, so everything's been frozen by the public trustee until the process of prob -' 'There must be some mistake,' Leon broke in. 'I understood I'd bought all of the property. ' Darcie gave an angry, disbelieving snort. Looking mystified, Colin gazed from one to the other. 'Am I missing something?' 'No, I am. ' Darcie sounded calm and reasonable even to her own ears. 'Leon pulled down my home and had it carted away - and is now building his dream home on both blocks.' 'But it was there a couple of months ago. I checked it over before I went away. ' Leon drew in a deep breath. 'I had it demolished. ' I will not have hysterics. I will not shout and scream or stamp my feet. I will behave in a perfectly reasonable manner. I will not kill Leon until I've thought of a way to commit murder and getaway with it. Watched by Leon's wary eyes and Colin's mystified ones she dragged a jacket over her sweater and headed for the door. Neither of the two men had seen her look so flaming mad before. 'Where are you going?' Leon dared to called after her. Her eyes scalded him. 'To my block of land - the one that you stole. I'm going to tear down that fancy house you're building brick by brick and . . . and throw it all in the sea. I don't care if it takes me a month of Sundays. ' 'Stop her,' Colin said as the door slammed behind her. 'When she gets riled up she can be totally unreasonable. ' 'She's your cousin. ' 'And she's your wife. ' Leon shrugged, saying with calm practicality. 'There are no bricks to pull down, and even Darcie can't tear up a concrete slab single-handed. ' 'I wouldn't bet on it,' Colin said glumly.

Taking a mobile phone from his pocket Leon stabbed in a number. 'Bernie, I want a double check on that block of land I bought at Petrel Point. I've now been informed it was on two titles. Yes . . . as soon as possible please. ' He stared hard at Colin Channing as soon as he finished his conversation with his lawyer. 'There's something I intend to say to you. Darcie has had a lousy time of it since she's been back. If you threaten her with the law again I'll withdraw every cent I've got invested in your bank, and let head office know the reason why. Do you understand?' Colin paled, but whether it was from fear or anger, Leon couldn't tell. 'I had no intention of charging Darcie. We may not see eye to eye very often but we grew up together, and I'm very fond of her. ' 'Good, because she might feel she has to turn to you for help. ' 'You can take it as read that I'll do anything I can to help her. ' Leon's eyes confronted those of Colin's. 'Actually, I'd be happier if you'd find some excuse not to help her. But if she proves to be stubborn, I wouldn't want her to be without money . . . if you catch my drift. ' Colin caught Leon's drift without any trouble at all. Trying not to smile with the sudden relief he felt, he nodded. 'And Colin . . . ?' he said, as the man turned to leave. 'That old furniture and stuff that was left at the shack. I had it removed to the storage facilities in town when I demolished the shack. If Darcie asks which she will eventually, because although her mind works in mysterious ways she always remembers what's important to her - can you leave me out of it?' Colin grinned. 'I'll tell her where it is - but if she asks me how it got there . . . ?' He shrugged. 'I guess I can think of something. ' *** Leon didn't go after Darcie. He waited up until midnight, then went to bed and laid there staring into the darkness. He heard her come in an hour later, heard Georgie attack his late evening meal with a noisy slurping sound, then burp loudly as he settled himself into his basket for the night. Darcie crept into the room she'd occupied before their marriage. The door closed gently, then he heard nothing. She'll get over it, he told himself, feeling abandoned and slightly sorry for himself. The next morning she was gone before he woke. He panicked for a moment, then realized she hadn't taken anything, not even her toothbrush. He sighed with relief. All she was doing was showing her displeasure by sulking, giving him the deep freeze treatment. He'd take her a red rose. Women liked that sort of thing. Darcie wasn't even thinking about Leon at that point. She was in her office arranging her first wedding. She was going through the glossy brochures, working on several variations of weddings within the price range of the couple who were coming to see her later that day. Her intention was to have several plans with different wedding options, all printed out for them to consider. The adverts had brought in several inquiries and Shirley had made half a dozen appointments whilst she'd

been in Perth. It looked as though she'd be busy for some time to come. She glanced up when Leon came in, and steeling herself successfully against his smile, said frostily. 'Did you want something?' He tickled under her chin with a red rose and placed it on the desk in front of her. 'We need to talk, Darcie. ' When she pushed it aside it tumbled off the desk into a waste paper basket. She didn't even afford it a second glance. 'Not now if you don't mind. I'm busy. ' 'I didn't know about the land, Darcie. ' She didn't believe him. Leon was a businessman. He would have checked that the land was free of encumbrances before he'd started building. 'Oh, for God's sake. 'Impatience rode his voice. 'What does it matter? We're married aren't we. I'll simply put the house in joint names. ' 'I don't want to share it with you, Leon. You tricked me into marriage because you knew you'd stolen my land and that was the only way you'd get to keep it. ' 'I knew no such thing. Besides which, buying it would have been a cheaper option than marriage, in the long term. ' She glared at him. 'Are you saying I'm expensive?' 'Stop twisting things. Darcie. You're no more expensive than any other wife would be. ' Trust you to remind me that you bought me . . . that I'm just an incubator for the future Price dynasty! She closed her eyes, wishing he'd go away so she didn't have to see him, so she didn't have to smell him, so she didn't have to remember the way his hands touched her body or how he made her feel when his lips brushed against hers, so soft and moist and tempting …? 'Stop it, Leon,' she hissed, jerking away from him and scrubbing her knuckles across her lips. 'You think sexual attraction fixes everything. ' His eyes had darkened with remembered pleasure as he gazed at her trembling mouth, which was suffering from acute withdrawal symptoms from the aborted kiss. 'I missed you last night.' 'You can go on missing me.' 'U-huh!' His eyes filled with amusement. 'If you think you can ignore what's going on between us you're out of your mind. Like Adam and Eve, we've eaten of the fruit.' 'It just so happens that I found the fruit to be rotten. I also have more constraint than Eve.' You didn't have much constraint when you jumped on that bob-cat at the site and damaged Leon's

concrete slab yesterday. That was yesterday, It's better than him being the victim of murder isn't it - my first intention if you recall? Besides - I had second thoughts. It's not my fault I couldn't switch the damned thing off in time. His feelings will be hurt. You know how much store he sets on having a home and family. Guilt gnawed at her innards like a bunch of hungry rabbits attacking a cabbage patch. What right had he to make her feel guilty? He should have stayed in the city where he belonged, not moved to this country town to disrupt everyone's lives. His outrageously intimate grin annoyed her. She drew back when he flipped the swinging curve of her hair with his forefinger. 'One thing I'm sure of, Darcie - you would have made Adam blush. You're an extremely talented lady. ' 'Oh!' Feeling the color mount under her skin Darcie glared at him. 'Why don't you go and find someone else to annoy. I've got work to do. ' 'Georgie and me are going to pack our lunch and take the trail up to the bluff later on. I'm dying to see the view. ' 'Have fun. ' She gazed at the computer screen trying to appear the uncaring and efficient career woman. From now on she'd work for her supper, and there would be no sexual favors. When he didn't take the hint and budge from her desk she glanced sharply up at him. 'Goodbye, Leon. ' 'Why don't you come with us?' It would be wonderful up on the bluff today, she thought. There was a large flat rock warmed by the sun where you could sit and dream, and a view down over the trees towards the sea. The wind was charged with ozone and pine resin. You could almost launch yourself from the rock and glide on the air currents like a seagull when it was gentle. When it was fierce the foliage hissed and snapped, and the hair was lashed in a stinging, whip-like frenzy about the face. Ruefully, she shook her head. 'I can't. I have work to do, and clients to see. ' She ignored his grin, her eyes becoming dreamy. 'This is my first wedding. I want to do it right.' 'Second. You arranged ours, remember?' 'My first real wedding, I mean, not a hasty business arrangement. ' He raised an eyebrow at that. 'Your computer screen tells me it's very much a business arrangement. ' 'Yes . . . well. ' Her smile was sugar laced with arsenic. 'I really do intend to earn my keep, Leon. ' Uncoiling from the desk, he murmured lazily. 'That, you've demonstrated most admirably so far. His fingers brushed against the notice pinned to the door as he walked out. 'Don't work too hard, Darcie. You've already got everything you need. ' 'You've got everything you need, you mean,' she murmured, glaring after him. As he moved out of sight she bent to retrieve the rose and held it to her nose to inhale its perfume, her expression regretful as she

stared at the empty doorway. 'Except for a couple of things, Leon . . . you no longer have a pad to build your house on . . . and you no longer have me in your bed. ' There was satisfaction in successfully arranging her first wedding contract that day. Forgetting her annoyance she hurried off to find Leon and report her success. She experienced a strong sense of anti-climax to discover the chalet was empty. He obviously hadn't returned from the bluff. As she uneasily eyed the mist clinging to the dark heights of the hills, the telephone rang. 'There's a call from Bernard Chambers for Mister Price. ' She wondered what Leon's lawyer wanted. 'I'll take it, Shirley. Put him through, please' 'Ah, Darcie. Is Leon there? I can't seem to raise him on the mobile. ' 'He's gone bush walking. Perhaps he's out of range. ' 'No. The telephone just rings out. He's probably left it in his office or something. It's not really urgent. I just thought you'd both like to know that there was a mistake made with the land purchase - but the mistake was made by your father in the first place. ' It seemed she'd been too hasty in her judgment of Leon. A shiver ran through her and she made a little humming noise in her throat as she remembered the damaged house pad. 'Go on. ' 'Application was made by your father to sub-divide the land some time ago into two titles. He signed a declaration at the time, saying the original deeds had been lost before the new titles were issued. Unfortunately, someone made a mistake, and the declaration was never recorded in the appropriate manner. When your father sold the property to Leon, he handed over the original set of deeds. ' 'So Leon thought he was buying the whole of the property?' 'Leon did buy the whole of the property, my dear. It's a matter of intent. ' 'But my father's intent was different to that of Leon,' she argued. 'If the land was on two titles - how could Leon have bought . . . ?' A thought struck her. 'Was the original deed canceled out by the two new titles?' 'To all intents and purposes. ' 'Does the mean yes or no?' 'What it means is that I'm not on the witness stand, and you're not cross-examining me, Mrs Price. But yes, the original title would have been rendered obsolete, and would have been retained by the titles office. ' She ignored his rebuke. 'So if Leon has the original deeds - and the original deed was canceled, then Leon doesn't legally own the land. Both titles must still be part of my father's estate - and therefore the property would belong to his legal heir . . . wouldn't it?'

'I assure you, Mrs Price. This whole thing is a mistake, as the land titles office will attest.' She took a deep breath. 'But whose mistake? There were more people involved in this transaction than my father - you for instance. Unfortunately, my father's not here to defend his reputation?' There was a sudden silence at the other end of the line, then Bernard Chambers said carefully. 'I'd advise you to seek independent advice on this matter, Mrs Price. There could be a conflict of interests. ' 'You mean, Leon may not been titled to the land?' The man's voice became silky. 'That's not what I meant at all - and I would advise you not to quote me. Should the matter go to court, some might consider that your father may have deliberately used the original deeds in an effort to inflate the value of the property he intended to sell?' 'How dare you even suggest such a thing!' she exploded. 'My father was a totally honest man. He was a bit absent-minded at times, I grant you, but he'd never have considered doing anything so underhand. ' 'A court of law might see things differently,' Bernard drawled. 'Look, ask Leon to call me when he gets in, would you? I'm sure things can be sorted out quite easily if we put our collective minds to it. ' As soon as Bernard Chambers hung up she dialed the number of Leo's mobile. It rang out. After checking all the offices and the dining room she went back to the chalet and dialed again. Leaving the phone to do its work she went outside and listened, staring up at the hills. Nothing. Wherever the telephone was it wasn't within the vicinity of her hearing range. Mist writhed through the trees, and she shivered. Leon hadn't lived here long enough to be familiar with the terrain . . . and if he wasn't back within the next two hours it would be dark. She was about to turn and go inside when she heard Georgie bark, then he bounded out from the undergrowth and raced towards her. There was something tied to his collar. A strip of material torn from the shirt Leon had been wearing that morning. She blanched when she saw the spot of blood on it. Heart in her mouth she contacted reception. 'Shirley, I think my husband might be in trouble. Quietly she explained the situation, and asked her to phone Jeff Watson before stating her intention to set out for the bluff. 'Is that wise? Why don't you wait for Jeff?' 'Because it will take him awhile to organize a search party, and they won't start out until first light. I know the country like the back of my hand and can get there before the light fades if I hurry. Leon is most certainly injured, and he hasn't got any warm clothing with him. ' 'Mrs Price . . . are you sure-' 'Don't waste my time by arguing,' she snapped. 'Ask the chef to send Peter over with a flask of hot soup and some fruit. I'll take Georgie, and will keep in touch on the mobile phone. You know the number. Tell Jeff to ring me every fifteen minutes for a progress report. After that, I'll expect you to hold the fort - until morning if necessary. ' 'Will do. '

Within a few minutes Darcie had fed and watered Georgie, and changed into a warm track suit and a pair of stout walking boots. 'Don't think you're taking up position on the lounge now you've eaten,' she told Georgie, tying a rolled blanket either side of his body like a pair of saddle bags. She filled a back pack with a small first aid kit, some chocolate and the flask and fruit that had come from the kitchen. She added a plastic bottle full of water wrapped in Leon's waterproof coat to George's load, then checking the batteries in the flashlight, stuck the mobile phone in her top pocket and started out. The first phone call was from Jeff Watson, who understood the position she'd been in and didn't bother trying to dissuade her from her course of action. 'Stick to the main trail, Darcie, and if you don't find him before it gets dark I'll arrange a search party for first light. I want you to camp on the trail so I'll know where to find you. Where are you now?' 'Just coming up to the log over the stream. ' 'Okay. I don't have to tell you to be careful. I'll ring you in fifteen minutes. ' The next fifteen minutes seemed interminable, and lonely, but she made good progress, keeping her pace steady despite her inclination to hurry. She'd need all her energy for the steep climb near the end of the trail. 'Bog's end,' she told Jeff, pleased to hear his voice right on time. Her muscles had warmed to the climb now. 'You're making good progress,' he grunted. Then fifteen minutes later when she'd just trudged past the thirteen boulders that sat like a clutch of giant eggs on a ledge. 'Bakers dozen. Visibility's not too good ,Jeff. ' 'It'll get worse when you get into the mist. Make sure you don't wander off the trail. Good luck, Darcie. ' 'Thanks, I'm beginning to need it. ' The incline was much steeper now, she was tiring and time seemed to slow down. Each phone call from Jeff seemed further and further apart, although logic told her they weren't. Her legs ached, and her chest was sore with the effort of breathing. She ate a bar of chocolate and an apple to replenish her energy levels whilst she rested, then taking out the phone dialed Leon's number, her ears straining to hear the sound of it ringing in the mist. Nothing. The trees began to thin out a bit as she toiled up the ever-increasing slope, but the mist had crept relentlessly down to surround her. It was cold and clammy. Above her, the canopy of trees showed glimpses of a purple shaded sky that the mist drifted across like thick smoke. If she didn't find Leon in the next fifteen minutes it would be dark. 'Leon!' she yelled, but her voice didn't carry. Georgie shoved his nose into her hand and whined.

She fondled the dog's ear, thankful for his company. 'You know where he is, don't you Georgie?' She took the strip of material from her pocket and held it under his nose. 'Fetch. ' Georgie gave her a puzzled glance. She sighed. 'Okay, you useless lump, so you're not a bloodhound. ' His tail wagged in amiable agreement. Ten minutes later she rang Leon's number again. Georgie strained at the leash and he gave a baying bark. 'Leon?' she called out, terminating the call. 'Answer me. ' Silence. Darkness was something that pressed into the mist surrounding her. There was something eerie about it, as if her body was in a ball of its own dim gray light. She jumped when the phone buzzed in her hand. 'I'm just below the bluff. Jeff, and the dog is alerted about something. ' 'What's the visibility like?' 'Not very good. I'll be lucky if I've got five minutes of light left, then I'll have to use the flashlight. ' There was a worried edge to Jeff's voice now. 'Be careful of the drop over Lover's Leap. I'll ring you in ten, and you'd better answer. ' 'Will do. You know the slab of rock just below the bluff. I'll take shelter there for the night if I can't find Leon. ' She had every intention of finding him, however long it took her. She wasn't about to allow him to suffer from exposure. She terminated the call before Jeff could warn her to be careful again. Five minutes later it felt as though she was wading through thick gray soup. She punched in Leon's number again and was rewarded by a faint buzzing coming from below her to the left. 'Oh, God,' she groaned, her heart beginning to thump against her ribs in what seemed to be an agonizing slow motion. 'He's fallen over Lover's Leap!' It took all of her restraint not to run towards where she knew the drop was. Georgie was pulling her the other way, towards the clump of scrub that bordered the rocky clearing at the base of the huge bare rock that was the bluff itself. 'I'll never call you a useless lump, again. I promise,' she promised when the yellow beam of her flashlight picked out a supine form. Heart in her mouth she hurried towards it, fell to her knees and gently kissed his pale face.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Her cursory examination showed a wound sticky with congealed blood at the side of his head. His pulse was strong, his breathing steady, though now and again he muttered something under his breath. She gently shook him. 'Leon, speak to me. ' 'Sarah,' he mumbled, then gave a long drawn out groan. 'My head . . hurts . . Sarah . ..' And where's Sarah when you need her? Nowhere, that's where? You'll just have to put up with second best. Jeff's call came almost at the same time. 'I've found him,' she yelled into the phone. 'We're on the edge of the clearing below the bluff. He has a head injury and is unconscious - though he's muttering a bit. Can you get a helicopter up for him. ' 'Impossible, Darcie, the mist is too thick, and it's getting thicker. You're going to have to hang in there until morning. ' Jeff was replaced by another voice, that of the local doctor, the one who'd stitched the cut on her rear when she'd been small. He asked questions about Leon's condition, and she was kept busy counting his pulse, examining his limbs and the condition of his pupils by the light of her torch. Finally, the doctor seemed satisfied. 'It sounds like a severe concussion, but I can't be sure without an x-ray. Don't attempt to move your husband. I want you to keep him warm - and talk to him as much as possible, okay? The object of the exercise is to prevent him from slipping into a deeper state of unconsciousness. ' She felt lonely after the voices had gone . . . and weary. She gently placed a dressing over the wound on his head, talking to him all the time. She wrapped the blanket around him, then put the waterproof jacket over the top. The night seemed interminable as she talked to Leon, and sometimes he talked back - sounding perfectly normal, having conversations with people she didn't know, and some she wished he didn't know - like Sarah. It grew so cold towards dawn that she pulled the second blanket over them both and snuggled against his body to keep him warm, with Georgie lying along his back. 'I love you,' she whispered in his ear as her eyes began to droop. 'Sarah didn't climb a mountain in the dark to rescue you . . . Wee Georgie and I did. ' 'I love you, Sarah. ' His voice was a restless murmur. 'I should have told you a long time ago.' 'I'm not Sarah,' she said despondently as she wondered who the hell this woman was. 'I'm Darcie . . . your . . . wife. ' He gave a long drawn out sigh. 'If I die, tell Sarah I love her. ' Darcie felt utterly miserable. 'You're not going to die, I won't let you,' she muttered. 'And if you think I'm going to hand you over to Sarah gift-wrapped, and with a red ribbon tied around your middle you can

think again. You're a two timing rat, Leon, and I don't know why I love you. Once you get better, you and I are going to sort this out. ' His chuckle drifted into a sigh. 'That's my girl,' Just make sure you remember it, she thought, as she unintentionally drifted under the surface of her consciousness. She dreamed there was a great wind tearing at her clothes. Her hair whipped into her eyes and dust filled the sky. In the distance she could hear Wee Georgie barking ferociously at something. She pursed her lips into a whistle shape, but they were dry and nothing came out. Even in her dream she knew her mouth was so parched she'd have to wake up and get herself a drink. Her eyes filled with dust when she opened them. 'For pity's sake,' she hollered, scrambling hastily to her feet. 'Do you have to land that thing right on top of us? Georgie, come here. You can't bite a helicopter, it's too big . . . Georgie!' It was no good, he couldn't hear her over the din. Georgie continued to feint and bark at the chopper as it came in to land. What a way to wake up! She felt befuddled, stale, and decidedly bad- tempered. She suddenly panicked, remembering she was supposed to have kept Leon awake, not fallen asleep herself. Falling to her knees beside him she anxiously stared at his chest to see if he was still breathing. 'Wake up, Leon. ' His eyes screwed open and he stared her, looking puzzled. When she offered him an encouraging smile he swore, and closed them again. If that's the effect I have on patients I'd better not take up nursing! She stood to one side as the doctor bustled to Leon's side and prized open his eyelids. It was hopeless trying to decipher which of the medico's maddening grunts were encouraging, and which were not. 'Will he be all right?' Jeff drew her aside, handing her a ham sandwich and some coffee. 'Let the doctor get on with his job, okay, Darcie. Your husband's in good hands now. ' 'Are you saying he wasn't before?' He shot her a steady look. 'Sorry. ' She gave him awry smile. 'I must have got out of bed on the wrong side. Tell me something, Jeff. Why do policemen have this deadpan look to them. It's most disconcerting. ' 'It's supposed to be. It unnerves the crims. ' Jeff cracked a reluctant chuckle. 'You did well to find your husband in the dark. ' 'Georgie found him really. What's the time, Jeff?'

'Nine-thirty. I'm sorry It took so long to get here, we had to wait for the mist to clear. I tried to call you earlier. ' 'I expect the phone needs are-charge. Leon's phone is halfway down Lover's Leap. ' 'Be thankful he didn't join it. I've had a look around. I think he slipped off the top. Luckily, his momentum took him in the opposite direction to his phone. He could quite easily have gone the other way if he'd been stunned. ' She shuddered at the thought as she sipped at the sweet milky coffee, relishing its comforting warmth, and absorbing the energy giving caffeine. She felt half-alive rather than half-dead when she finished drinking it - which was a marginal improvement. 'I hope you won't mind walking down again, there isn't room for us all on the chopper. I'll be with you. ' 'At least it will be all downhill. ' Within minutes, Leon had been examined, pronounced stable and strapped to a stretcher. Darcie followed after the stretcher bearers, slipping a leash on Georgie, whose jaws were firmly attached to one of the struts as if to prevent the aircraft flying away now he'd caught it. 'Drop it, Georgie. ' Georgie gave her a dirty sideways look, but exchanged the helicopter for half a ham sandwich with a bit of coaxing. She used the last of the water to wash her face, ate the remaining apple, cleared up the camp site and followed Jeff down to the hotel, where she treated him to breakfast. 'I'll need a statement sometime, Darcie,' he said as he left. 'There's no hurry though. Get some rest, you look all in. ' She didn't have time to rest. After answering the questions of the staff, she took a much needed shower and drove to the small hospital in town. A skinny looking nurse in emergency was in the process of pulling a pale blue knitted cardigan round her shoulders when she walked in, an exact copy of one she'd bought herself last Christmas. It even had an odd button on the front - like the one she'd replaced a lost one with, and in exactly the same place. How curious, she thought, and began to wonder where her own clothes were. 'They've taken your husband to Perth, Mrs Price. ' Alarm zipped through her, and a vision of a pack of green-masked surgeons waving bloody scalpels over Leon's head flashed into her mind. 'Why, what's wrong with him?' 'Nothing for you to worry about, my dear. '

'Nevertheless, I am worrying,' she snapped. 'I'm his wife. I'm supposed to worry, it's part of my job. Now, kindly stop patronizing me and tell me what's wrong with my husband, else I'll scream blue murder. ' The nurse gave her a wary look as she snatched up the phone. 'If you'll take a seat, I'll ask doctor to come and talk to you. Would you like a sedative to calm your nerves?' 'My nerves are perfectly all right, thank you. ' She was lying. They weren't perfectly all right. She was as jittery as a cat standing on a hot barbecue. 'Nice cardigan. ' 'Why, thank you, dear. 'The woman's voice was placatory, as if she was intent on trying to calm a lunatic. 'I bought it at the charity shop. It was a bargain. ' Suspicion took up residence in here brain. Colin surely wouldn't have . . . ? 'Did you sew the odd button on yourself?' 'Why, no. It was on there. ' 'I think it's mine. ' The nurse gave a relieved smile when the doctor swept in. The doctor suspected Leon's skull was fractured. 'Sending him straight on to Perth is only a precaution, Mrs Price, especially as he's been without proper medical attention for several hours.' Everything in Darcie deflated like a punctured balloon. 'Will he die?' 'Goodness, no, you needn't worry about that. ' The doctor patted her hand reassuringly. 'All his vital signs are good, and he's strong. It shouldn't be too long before he comes round - and he'll want to see you. ' He smiled as he stood up and glanced at his watch. 'He called out for you several times. Sarah . . . tell Sarah. ' Darcie inhaled a long, deep, steadying breath and held her counsel. After all, it hadn't been her face the doctor had stitched, and she supposed one bum must resemble any other. 'Thank you, doctor. I'll go to Perth as soon as I'm able. ' The nurse rushed after her as she hurried towards the door and pressed something in her hand. 'Here's your button dear. It doesn't match the others, anyway. ' She backed away when Darcie gave way to slightly hysterical laughter. Four hours later she hurried into the Perth City hospital, only to find Leon was in surgery. There was an anxious wait before a doctor approached her. 'We've taken out a couple of bone fragments and removed the pressure on his brain. ' Darcie paled. 'Will he be all right?' 'There's no reason why he shouldn't be. It was quite straight-forward. ' The man's brisk, matter-of-fact attitude reassured Darcie to some extent. 'Sister will take you to see him in a little while, but he'll be quite

groggy, so don't expect too much. ' Leon looked ashen when she finally got to see him. Dark shadows smudged under his eyes. There was a bandage on his head and a drip attached to his arm. He looked so totally helpless she had to swallow hard to stop herself from bursting into tears as she kissed him gently on the cheek and took his limp hand in hers. 'I'm sorry I called you a two-timing rat. In fact, I take back every mean thing I've ever said to you, and every mean thought I ever thought about you. I want you to be happy. If you love Sarah and she loves you -' Isn't that going a bit too far - why should you hand him over to this Sarah when you could make him just as happy as she could? For once, she was grateful for the advice of her inner voice. You mean, try and make Leon fall for me? Do I have to spell it out, bird-brain? What does this man want most in the world? Her eyes flew open in shock. 'You think I should conceive a baby in cold blood? Deliberately become preg -' A slight squeeze on the hand stopped her in mid-mutter. Leon's eyes had fluttered open. There was something distant about them, the gray going off into a misty infinity. Hopefully, she leaned forward into his line of vision. 'Leon, it's me?' 'Sarah?' he whispered. She experienced a swift surge of annoyance before guilt took over. Sarah must be someone really special to him otherwise she wouldn't be on his mind. But I might as well help him get his priorities right. It's me he's married to. And if we conceive a child I'm sure there'll be nothing cold-blooded about the act. Quite the opposite in fact. 'It's Darcie, your wife. ' His smile was almost a shadow. 'My head hurts . . . ' 'I'm not surprised,' she said sympathetically. 'You bounced down a hill on it. ' His eyes began to focus on her. 'Ah . . . I think I remember something. ' Besides the mysterious Sarah, I hope. 'A helicopter came. ' 'That's right. It brought you to hospital in Perth,' she told him, now she had his attention. 'Hospital . . . Perth . . . ?'

The nurse came bustling over, laying claim to her patient with a finger on his pulse and an eye on her watch. 'We've had an operation, Mister Price, but you needn't worry. We're going to be just fine.' I resent you butting in on our conversation, and presuming to share my husband's experience. Leon didn't seem to mind at all. 'Did we? Fine . . . that's nice. ' His hand relaxed and his eyes drifted shut. The sister gazed pointedly at her. 'We don't want to tire him, do we, Mrs Price? Come back tomorrow during visiting hours. He'll have shaken off the an aesthetic then and will be feeling more like himself. You look as though you could do with some sleep, too.' That's because I climbed a mountain in the dark and stayed awake all night trying to keep my husband alive. Stop playing the heroine. It was a small hill and you went to sleep. Get lost! I'm establishing my rights. All she has to do is feel his pulse, plump his pillows and straighten his sheets. She kissed Leon good-bye, whispered reinforcing words of love in his ear then left before the ward sister hauled her up by the collar and frog-marched her to the exit. The day seemed to have slipped by without notice, and by the time she arrived back at the house she was totally exhausted. Anna had left her some dinner to warm in the oven. She picked at it, then showered and sat in front of the fire, staring into the flames with Georgie pressed against her side. There were people she should tell. Leon's lawyer, Jennifer, Gary Morgan, and . . . she worried at her bottom lip . . . Sarah. There was bound to be a phone number somewhere. No, not Sarah. She didn't know when the woman was arriving, but . . . ? She rushed through to Leon's study and rummaged through the pages of his appointment book. Nothing! She'd tried and could now safely ignore her. What about his address book? What about it? To tired to think straight she conveniently forgot about it, and after pushing Georgie into the kitchen crawled into bed and snuggled into Leon's pillow, feeling lost and alone. *** Leon winced as he watched Darcie's attempts to park the car. Finally she managed it, but much too close to its neighbor. Slim as she was, he could almost see her suck in her breath as she slid through the small gap the door allowed her. He left the window and slid back into bed. She always tip-toed into the ward and kissed his cheek if she thought he was asleep.

He was bored after a week in the hospital, and today he intended to surprise her. A few moments later, when her lips softly brushed against his cheek he grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. The muted scream she gave was delicious, but quickly smothered by his mouth. He could feel laughter shaking through her, and her eyes were bright with it when the kiss came to a mutually satisfying completion. 'You're too frisky for an invalid. You must be feeling better. ' His hand slipped under the white ribbed sweater she was wearing and caressed the satiny swell of her breast. 'You're feeling better, I'm just feeling deprived,' he growled when she glanced towards the door and blushed. 'They're letting me out tomorrow, so watch out. ' She removed her hand and sat crossed-legged on the end of his bed. The incandescent laughter in her face made his breath catch in his throat. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he'd end up with a woman like this. She was sensational. 'I'd better make sure your blood pressure doesn't go up, then. Can we go straight back to the Inn?' 'After a few days.' He smiled to himself. 'I have to get the final all clear when I have the stitches taken out. I think we might indulge in a second honeymoon. ' Her eyes engaged his, blue and flirtatious. 'The doctor might advise no physical activity.' 'I'll insist he be struck off the medical register for quackery, if he does. ' Over the following few days Darcie discovered that Leon's accident hadn't impaired his physical stamina, and their lovemaking was as ferociously consuming as it was before. Apart from a shaved patch surrounding the stitches in his head, he appeared to have suffered no ill effects from the accident, and when they finally left Perth he insisted on doing the driving himself. *** There was a pile of mail waiting when they got back to the inn. Colin had left her a letter saying her furniture was in the storage facilities in town. There was also an account for two months rental of the same. 'Odd,' she said, turning it over. 'It's got your name on it. ' 'Mmmm. ' Leon gave an odd, twisted sort of smile. 'Someone must have told them we were married.' Darcie only had a moment to wonder who before Leon exclaimed in annoyance. 'What the hell! There's an account for repairs to the house slab. ' 'Uh . . . really,' she mumbled, turning pink. The accident had driven it out of her mind.

Leon waved it in the air. 'It's got your name on it. ' Think fast, Darcie! 'That's right. Someone vandalized it so I got it repaired. ' 'Vandalized? Did you tell the police?' What, and have myself arrested? She made her eyes as innocent as possible. 'Uh . . . no. I didn't see any point. ' Leon's eyes narrowed a fraction as he stared at her. 'How did this . . . vandalism happen?' 'Somebody drove a bob-cat over it with the bucket down. ' His eyes nearly disappeared into his hair-line. 'A bob cat? How did you find out about it?' Does he have to subject me to an inquisition? 'Remember the day that Colin called, and . . . and I . . . er . . . went for a walk?' The suspicion in his eyes was lightened by a growing amusement. 'The day we had the argument over the land and you threw a tantrum? The day you promised to tear the house down brick by brick and throw it in the sea, before you stormed off?' He knows, damn it! She calmly nodded, staring at the storage bill in here hand with a puzzled frown. Something is definitely odd about this. 'Let me help you out,' he said silkily. He's closing in for the kill! Let him have his moment of triumph. It was a stupid thing to do, I deserve it. 'Are you saying you saw the block had been vandalized, arranged for it to be repaired - and forgot to tell me?' 'Leaping lizards!' She glanced up from the account with a smile on her face as everything clicked into place, meeting his challenge square on. 'Did you want to challenge my version of events?' She waved the paper in the air. 'Look at this, Leon. It's strange how the initial date on this account coincides with Colin's holiday. Do you think it could have been sloppy accounting?' 'Could be. What does it matter? It was only a load of old furniture. ' Two pairs of eyes collided, Leon's wryly surprised, Darcie's openly smug. Sprung! he thought ruefully. 'Old furniture? They're antiques for the most part. I hope it suits the house you're going to build for us, because I absolutely refuse to part with it - by the way, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to my clothes would you? I thought Colin might have got rid of them, but he said he didn't touch them. '

He studied one of the bills in his hand. 'Mmmm. Does it . . . really matter? You can buy all the clothes you need now. ' 'I suppose it's not all that important. No doubt they'll turn up from time to time. ' Although Leon's expression was slightly alarmed, all in all the situation was handled with admirable aplomb. Casually shoving the contractor's account into a folder he took the storage bill from her hand, placed it on top, then turned and kissed her on the nose. 'Shall I just pay it? We can decide which of your furniture suits and which doesn't at the appropriate time. ' I might be prepared to negotiate when the time comes, she thought, indicating the fact by saying. 'Anything's possible.' 'There will have to be give and take on both sides if we're to resolve our differences,' he said firmly. 'Otherwise we're just being stubborn for the sake of it. ' 'About the land,' she said cagily. 'We might as well leave things as they are if the house is going to be in joint names. It would be pretty messy if we went to court . . . and the only one to profit would be your lawyer. If you don't mind me saying so, he seems a bit slip-shod if he allowed the mistake to occur in the first place. You should demand he pay back the settlement fee he charged you. ' Leon's smile would have eclipsed the sun. 'He'll do it properly the second time, and it will be free of charge. I would have won any court case, anyway. ' 'Now who's being stubborn?" she said with a frown. 'The most you would have won was half.' 'An independent valuation would have been done, and the judge would probably have awarded me some of my money back. ' She began to do a slow burn. So much for meeting him half-way. 'Have you heard of caveat emptor?' she said sweetly. 'Buyer beware? Okay, you've made a good point, but the mistake was made in the titles office.' 'But my father only intended to sell half the land, as Colin will testify, and you'll be obliged to tear up that house pad and restore my home to its former condition. If that's what you want to do you can have all of your money back once my father's estate is sorted out. I don't want anything I'm not entitled to have. ' 'I'm keeping the land,' he said, his voice firm. 'My home is going on it and my family will be raised there. ' 'Then why are you arguing?' she yelled. 'I've already agreed it will be in joint names.' 'You're the one who's arguing. You're the most illogical woman I've ever met. ' 'Then why did you want to marry me? You could have married Helen if you hadn't of been so arrogant. All you had to do was go after her. ' He stared at her for a few seconds, then his mouth inched into a reluctant smile.

'That prenuptial agreement I signed sets it all out for you. I want to remind you at this point that everything I offered you is written down. ' 'Damn you, Leon, don't start that again. I told you. I'm not signing any prenuptial agreement.' She stared at him, thinking miserably. All I want is for him to tell me he loves me, then the marriage will be perfect. 'I must insist you sign it, Darcie.' 'Insist all you want. 'Feeling unsettled she rose to her feet and headed for the door. As we're already married anyway, it's now rendered null and void. 'Not in my book. Where are you going at this time of night?' 'To fetch that agreement and tear it into a million pieces. ' 'You'd better read it properly,' he called after her. 'You might miss out on something to your advantage. ' 'Like the crown jewels or a ticket to Disneyland?' She turned and scowled at him. 'I told you, Leon. Stop trying to buy me. Nothing on earth will make me sign that agreement because I have no intention of leaving you, not ever! I love you and I'm going to keep you, so you'd better get used to being faithful to one woman. And when that Sarah woman arrives I'm going to tell her where to get off! I hope she knows you're married. ' His mouth dropped open a fraction. 'Sarah . . . ?' 'That simpering floozy who's coming from England to see you, the one who sent that postcard you forgot to tell me about. The Sarah you kept asking for when you were unconscious, the Sarah you said you loved. ' 'Simpering floozy . . . Sarah? I said I loved her?' If possible, his mouth dropped open even more as he thought. Of course I love Sarah. She was almost a mother. . . no . . . she was my mother to all intents and purposes, and I'll tell her so when she arrives. It can't be that hard to say what's in your heart . . . and I won't die from making a fool of myself. He grinned like an idiot when Darcie stamped her foot on the floor, and smiled even more when she flung at him. 'It's not funny. Don't think you're tampering with my affections, Leon Price. ' Slamming the door behind her, Darcie rushed out into a howling gust of wind-driven rain that nearly sucked the breath out of her lungs. It was a case of instant freeze, but be damned if she was going back for a coat. She'd rather die of cold than lose face now . . .

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Darcie's teeth were chattering when she fished the prenuptial agreement out of her desk. About to tear it in half, she wondered what Leon had considered she might be worth when he wrote it. She slipped it from the envelope and carefully unfolded it. It wasn't even typed, just written in his neat sloping handwriting. Darcie, I fell in love with you at first sight, and in a way that made everything else in this world seem superficial. I've told myself that I might have to let you go - and I will if this is what you want. Whether you read this or not, if you marry me I'll know it's only because you love me. I've realized that there's a time to love. This is my time. I offer you something you've already stolen from me. My heart. This is the only thing I can think of that you might consider of true value. I hope it will mean something to you. 'Damn you, Leon Price,' she whispered, knowing she'd curl up and die rather than leave him now. 'You're as tricky as a cage full of monkeys. But there's still something we need to sort out.' By the time she got back to the chalet she was soaked through to the skin, her hair was a wet slick against her head and she was racked by shivering. Leon gave her a lazy smile. 'We'd better get you out of those clothes before you catch a cold. Is everything all right?' 'Everything's perfect. 'Her teeth sounded like Spanish castanets in full clack as she beamed a smile at him. 'Well almost . . . ' She waved the agreement in the air. 'I want this framed, and I want to know about Sarah. You're not removing one stitch of my clothing until you tell me?' His eyes gleamed with amusement. 'Trust me, Darcie. Sarah is the only other women in my life. She'll be arriving at the end of the week. Let me surprise you. ' I have nothing to lose, she realized, everything inside her jiggling with excitement as if she'd won first prize in the state lottery. He's mine, heart, soul and . . . body. He loves me! With only a tiny show of reluctance she allowed him to peel the wet clothes from her and wrap her in a blanket. His eyes were soft and loving, his lips a graze against her ear as he whispered. 'I adore you, and that's the first time I've ever wanted to say that to anybody. ' Shoving Georgie off the couch, he cuddled her against him whilst the fire warmed her through, and told her how much he loved her. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, but didn't get the chance to do either because he kissed her again, told her to shut up, and said he loved her all over again - and it would be better if he demonstrated exactly how much he loved her. Then she said something like, perhaps they should have a baby. Leon thought it might be a good idea because, as he put it - it would give them something in common beside the land and sex. He said he'd like a boy first. He'd read an article- which was in his briefcase on how this could be achieved, and should he get it? To which she answered that she was two weeks overdue, and had felt queasy that morning so he'd have

to take pot luck - and would the house be finished in time? After all, they didn't want to bring their baby up in hotel. After he'd recovered from his shock, he said. 'Will it be all right to . . . ' 'Perfectly. ' So he swept her up in his arms and carried her off to the bedroom with a grin a mile wide on his face. The couch was instantly claimed by Wee Georgie, who came out from the kitchen to stretch blissfully along its length and allow the heat from the fire to warm his belly. It wasn't often they forgot to shut the kitchen door, but when they did it was an unexpected bonus. He lifted his head slightly when he heard his mistress give a tiny yelp, and growled deep in his throat. It was his responsibility to check it out, even if she was with the master. Silently, he padded toward the room they were in and pushed the door ajar with his nose. They were wrestling, rolling around like they did with him on the lawn sometimes - something they all enjoyed as a pack. Backing up a few paces, Georgie slanted his head to one side, grinned, huffed a couple of times and launched himself at the bed . . . THE END