Although Kate had insisted that there was no need for him to wait, Alex had hung about the school gates for over an hour while she and Joanne had their interview with Mr Coulthard, Joanne's head teacher.

And it was just as well he had, Alex reflected now, glancing once again at Kate's white face. The head teacher had proved to be tough and intractable, and she had taken his decision badly. He also knew she blamed herself for Joanne's behaviour and no amount of persuasion on either his or Joanne's part would change her mind.

Joanne, herself, had proved surprisingly resilient, though Alex suspected she might behave somewhat differently in the privacy of her own room at home. But she seemed to realise how upset her mother was and in consequence she'd kept her own feelings to herself.

Alex admired her sensitivity, and after they'd dropped the girl at the flat he'd done his utmost to convince Kate that, far from letting her daughter down, she'd given her values anyone would admire. But he couldn't do anything about Joanne's suspension, or make Kate see that Mr Coulthard had really had no choice.

Now, he realised, he didn't want to return her to the office. Despite her a.s.sertion that she'd be better off at work, he was of the opinion that she needed a break. Her mother, whom he'd met briefly that morning, had suggested that he might be agreeable to giving her the rest of the day off, but although he had willingly concurred Kate had insisted on returning to the stables.

'Have lunch with me,' he offered abruptly as he swung the Range Rover between the stone gateposts, and Kate turned to give him a startled look.

'Lunch?' she echoed, and he nodded. 'Oh, really, that's not necessary. Um-I've got some biscuits in my office. That's all I need.'

Alex slowed the car. 'Is that what you usually have for lunch? Biscuits?'

'Well-no.' Kate moistened her lips. 'As-as a matter of fact, I usually get a sandwich from the van.' A firm from King's Montford delivered fresh sandwiches every morning, but of course today she hadn't been there when they came round.

'Then why not join me today?' Alex persisted, allowing the engine to idle. 'Mrs Muir will be glad to have someone to cater for, for a change.'

Kate drew a breath. She was hesitating, and Alex pressed his advantage. 'You can tell me what Coulthard's going to do about the other girls who were involved.'

Kate sighed. 'Are you really interested?'

'I am, as a matter of fact. I like Joanne.'

'And she likes you,' murmured Kate almost inaudibly, and then blushed when she realised he'd heard her. 'Well-if you're sure your housekeeper won't object.'

'It is my house,' Alex reminded her mildly, turning up towards the main building. He parked on the paved forecourt. 'Come on. You look as if you could use a drink.'

Mrs Muir appeared as they entered the large reception hall, where a Waterford crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling of the second floor. As the little woman came to meet them, he was aware of Kate looking about her with interest and for the first time in years he wondered what someone else thought of his home.

Agnes Muir was thin and angular, not at all the rosy-cheeked retainer so lovingly described in popular fiction. Yet, for all that, she was loyal, and she had a kind and generous nature, and it had hurt her very badly when Rachel was taken away.

'Och, there you are, Mr Kellerman!' she exclaimed, her eyes darting swiftly between them, and he guessed she was curious about why he'd brought Kate here. 'Mrs Sheridan's been on the phone half a dozen times this morning already. Didn't you promise her you'd go and look at her new colt?'

'd.a.m.n.' He'd forgotten all about Lacey's invitation, and he saw Kate turn to give him a doubtful glance. He should have rung Lacey before he left, but he'd been thinking of other things at the time. 'Not to worry,' he added rea.s.suringly, more for Kate's benefit than his housekeeper's. 'If she rings again, I'll explain that I had to go out.'

'Very well.' Mrs Muir folded her hands at her waist, and he knew she was waiting for him to tell her where he'd been. Either that or introduce her to his companion, he conceded without rancour.

Agnes had begun to consider herself the mistress of the house.

'If you'd rather-' began Kate awkwardly, and he realised she'd misunderstood his hesitation, probably imagining he would rather have kept his appointment with Lacey.

'I wouldn't,' he a.s.sured her, taking her arm to bring her forward, and then frowning when she jerked away.

But he had no time to consider that rejection, or what it might mean, and, keeping his temper in check, he introduced her to the housekeeper without delay. 'Mrs Hughes works with Sam, as you know,' he added, aware that his tone was clipped and formal. 'I've invited her for lunch. Is that a problem?'

'As if it would be!' exclaimed Agnes, evidently liking what she'd seen of Kate. 'If you'll give me thirty minutes, I'll have the meal ready for you.'

'Thanks.'

Alex knew his voice was curt, but he couldn't help it. He hadn't realised until then how much Kate's confidence in him had meant. But the way she'd pulled away, as if she was revolted by his touch, had dealt him quite a blow, and he wondered if she'd been fooling him all along.

The thought was repellent, and rather than allow it to fester he pushed it a side and led the way into the library, which was situated at the front of the house. The leather-bound volumes on the shelves were seldom moved, but the room was one of his favourites, the open fire in the huge hearth giving it a warmth and familiarity he normally enjoyed.

'What would you like to drink?' he asked, moving to a cabinet in the corner, where a selection of bottles and decanters occupiedasilver tray. There was a built-in fridge below which Mrs Muir kept stocked with beer and mixers, despite her contention that Alex drank too much.

'Oh-just an orange juice, please.'

Kate was hovering in the entrance, and he wondered if she was afraid he might jump her if she closed the door. He might, too, he thought aggressively, if only to punish her for treating him like one of the untouchables, but then he saw her anxious face and his anger cooled.

'Orange juice,' he said, bending to swing open the door of the cool-box. He found what he wanted, flicked the tab, and poured the contents into a stemmed gla.s.s. 'Is that okay?'

'Thanks.'

She took the gla.s.s from him, but this time he made sure their fingers didn't touch. If she thought he'd invited her here for any ulterior motive, she could think again. He'd felt sorry for her, that was all. He'd have done the same for anyone.

Like Alicia...

He scowled. He didn't want to think about her now. He didn't want to remember how she'd deceived him, too. All that talk about her husband beating her; how she was too afraid to go on living at home. He should have put her in touch with social services or one of those hostels that catered for battered wives, instead of giving her temporary accommodation in his home.

The memory of how she'd duped him caused him to regard Kate with even less sympathy. What if she was only here to see how much she could get out of him? He still wasn't entirely satisfied she'd told him the truth about taking this job.

'You've got a lovely home,' she murmured as he was opening a bottle of beer for himself. 'Is-is the house very old?'

'Parts of it date back to the seventeenth century,' he told her coolly. He took a swig of beer from the bottle and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. 'Thankfully, my grandfather decided to modernise the old place. Much as I appreciate its history, it's b.l.o.o.d.y hard to keep it warm.'

Kate smiled. 'I love open fires, don't you?' she said, gesturing towards the logs burning in the grate. 'We just have electric heating at the flat.'

Alex watched her. 'And you live there with your mother and your daughter?'

'That's right. I couldn't have got-got a job without her help.'

Now why did he think she had been going to say something other than that she'd been able to get a job? he wondered. There was no doubt that when Joanne was younger she'd have needed a babysitter for the child. He lifted the bottle to his lips and took another swallow. He was letting his irritation at her edginess affect his mood.

'Why don't you sit down?' he suggested, gesturing towards an armchair nearer the fire, and although he was sure she would have preferred to stand she moved to take the seat.

'I envy you all these books,' she remarked rather nervously, when he came to stand in front of the fire. 'I've always loved books and reading.' She grimaced. 'I just wish Joanne felt the same.'

Alex hesitated, and then, because he wasn't naturally aggressive, he subsided into the chair across the hearth. 'I shouldn't worry,' he said, with rather more warmth. 'Maybe being suspended will prove a G.o.dsend in the long run.'

'How can you say that?'

She wasn't prepared to be polite where her daughter was concerned and Alex noticed how her eyes sparkled when she was provoked. He found himself wondering how she would look if he was making love to her. Would her mouth taste as hot and sensual as it looked right now?

'I mean,' he said mildly, 'it will give her time to consider her options, and if Coulthard's going to put her into a different cla.s.s next term it will be like a new start.'

Kate hunched her shoulders. 'I suppose.'

'Well, he had to do something, Kate!' Alex exclaimed reasonably, and then cursed himself when her arching brows told him she'd noted the familiarity. 'Shoplifting is a serious offence,' he added, trying to cover himself. 'If he'd let her off, he'd have had to let the other girls off as well.'

'He doesn't know who the other girls are!' exclaimed Kate at once. 'Joanne refused to tell him.'

'Still, I'd say he has a fairly good idea,' retorted Alex shrewdly. 'He'll be watching them like a hawk. They won't get away with it for long.'

'I wish I could believe that,' muttered Kate, sipping her orange juice almost without thinking.

'But you're right. Joanne did deserve some punishment. I just wish I didn't feel so helpless.'

Alex rolled the bottle he was holding between his palms. 'At least you don't lie awake nights wondering what lies other people are telling her about you,' he said heavily. 'Believe me, that's the hardest thing to take.'

She frowned then. 'You're talking about your own daughter, aren't you?'

'Rachel. Yes.' Alex wondered again why he found it so easy to confide in her. 'You probably know that she lives with my in-laws. What you may not know is that they don't intend to give her up.'

Kate stared at him. 'Intend?' she said curiously. 'That's an odd word to use. Don't you mean they don't want to give her up?'

'I mean intend,' he told her grimly. 'Conrad Wyatt will do anything to stop me getting my daughter back.' He grimaced. 'I guess you could say I've been making it easy for him. For awhile after Pamela died I hit the bottle pretty badly.'

Kate shook her head. 'That's understandable.'

'Is it?' Alex wished she'd been around then. He might have had more sense than to destroy what was left of his reputation. He scowled as the memories came flooding back. 'You can't imagine what it was like, being accused of killing my own wife.'

'No.'

Kate conceded the point, but there was no trace of censure in the word. On the contrary, she seemed almost willing to believe him. Or was he being absurdly nave to think that?

'You said your husband was killed in a car crash,' he observed now, deciding he'd said enough about himself. 'That must have been tough on you.'

She stiffened at his words. He sensed it immediately, without the sudden straightening of her spine. He had evidently stepped into territory that was still painful to her, and he cursed himself for destroying their unexpected rapport.

'It was,' she told him tensely. 'I suppose you think it's because Joanne doesn't remember what it was like to have a father that she's so rebellious now.'

'I didn't say that,' he replied evenly. 'I was merely comparing your situation with mine.' He grimaced. 'At least no one has accused you of being responsible for the accident.'

Kate put down her gla.s.s. He sensed she would have liked to get to her feet and pace about the room, but perhaps the fear of what he might do deterred her. 'Perhaps I was,' she said at last.

'Responsible, I mean.' She pressed her knees together. 'If Sean had been happy with me, he wouldn't have gone off with someone else.'

Alex's expression was sympathetic. 'I doubt if it's as simple as that,' he remarked gently, and she gave him a rueful look.

'You'll have gathered that I don't like to talk about Sean,' she murmured. 'It just reminds me of what a fool I was.' She paused. 'I should have listened to my parents. If it hadn't been for them I'd never have been able to finish my degree-'

'You've got a degree!' Alex was stunned, and, looking at her suddenly flushed face, he realised she hadn't intended to tell him that. But the words had just slipped out, and now she was stuck with them. 'A degree in what?' he demanded, trying not to feel suspicious. He filled his lungs.

'Not journalism, I hope.'

'Law,' she got out jerkily. 'I got a degree in law.' And then, seeing his scepticism, she added, 'It's true. But I couldn't find a firm of solicitors willing to take me on so, as I told you, I went to work for my father.'

Alex breathed deeply through his nostrils. Then he got abruptly to his feet. A degree in law, and she had taken a job at his stables. Was he being unnecessarily paranoidto wonder why?

He was staring out of the long windows when he realised she had come to stand beside him.

Beyond the windswept gardens that surrounded the house, the land sloped away towards the river, and he noticed the lower meadow was partly flooded. They'd had so much rain in the last few weeks, it was to be expected, he supposed, trying to ignore her and not succeeding.

'I'm sorry if you think I should have told you,' she ventured, to attract his attention. 'I know I didn't put it on my CV, but that was because so many employers are put off by qualifications like that.'

Alex half turned towards her. 'And you thought I would have been one of them?' His lips twisted. 'You didn't want to embarra.s.s an ignorant horse-trader like me?'

'You're not an ignorant horse-trader.'

His eyes narrowed. 'How do you know?'

She shifted a little uncomfortably. 'I should have thought it was obvious.' She took a breath.

'Ignorant people aren't usually sensitive, and-and you've just proved you are.'

'Am I?'

Alex knew it wasn't the most sensible thing to tease her, but he was enjoying having her trying to placate him for a change. Besides which, he conceded tersely, she was a beautiful woman. Despite his self-derision, he was not entirely immune to the appeal in her grey eyes.

'You-you were kind to Joanne,' she told him firmly, turning her head slightly to avoid his gaze.

A strand of crinkled hair fell forward and she looped it back behind her ears. 'I-I was glad you came with us today.'

'Yeah, so was I.'

Alex felt an instantaneous response to her admission, a recognition that his own motives hadn't been exactly impartial either. As she stood there beside him, the smell of her warm skin drifted irresistibly to his nostrils, a delicate fragrance that was overlaid by the sudden sharpness of his own desire.

G.o.d, he acknowledged darkly, he wanted to touch her. He didn't care at that moment who she was or what she'd done, he only wanted to ease her jacket off her shoulders and slide his sweating palms into the demure neckline of her shirt. What would she do? he wondered. How would she react if he took her small, high b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his hands? He wanted to see her eyes widen as he caressed them and squeezed them. Would her nipples be taut? Would they swell like hard buds against his palms?

'So-so I'm forgiven?'

When she spoke, he had to pull himself together before he could answer her. His head was swimming, and he hoped to h.e.l.l she didn't look below his waist. 'Forgiven?' he echoed thickly, and she must have thought it was safe to turn her head and look at him, but when she met his burning gaze the hectic colour rose hotly into her cheeks.

'For-for not telling you about my degree,' she got out jerkily, clearly disturbed by his appraisal, and he remembered why he'd felt he needed some time to think about what she'd said.

'Um-why-why don't you tell me about your daughter?' she added hurriedly. 'I-I expect you miss her a lot.'

Alex blew out a breath. He wondered if it was only his imagination that made him think she looked guilty, or was it fear that had brought such a look of agitation into her face? But one thing he did know: he didn't want to talk about Rachel right now. There would be something almost profane inusing his daughter to dispel the way he felt.

'Are you a fraid of me?' he asked abruptly, and this time he was not mistaken when she drew away.

But, 'No,' she said tensely, though her voice was slightly higher than before. 'Why should I be afraid of you, Mr Kellerman? I-I hardly know you.'

Alex couldn't let it go. 'Oh, I think you do,' he insisted softly, aware that his efforts to get rid of his own unwilling attraction weren't working. 'Know of me, at least,' he appended, moving closer. 'Perhaps you're beginning to wonder if there was any truth in the rumours. Do you think you're woman enough to find out?'

He heard the catch in her breath as she backed away from him. 'I think you're just amusing yourself at my expense, Mr Kellerman,' she said, forcing a valiant smile. But the smile didn't reach her eyes, and he realised she was still apprehensive. 'Shall we go and sit down again? I haven't finished my drink.'