"Happy honeymoon," said Lucy and gave the kind of knowing wink that was required. As the man staggered up the garden path to the cottage, his bride giggling in his arms, Lucy collected her cleaning kit from where she had left it by the hedge and headed back home for a glass of wine and a well-earned bath. As she pushed open the garden gate with her backside, her arms full of brushes, bleach, and polish, a Land Rover pulled up outside.

"Still got your hands down a toilet, Lucy?"

Oh happy day. "Hello, Sara."

"Josh not with you?" said Sara, smirking down from the open window of the car.

"I don't know where he is." Lucy's heartbeat quickened as she realized where the conversation was heading. "I don't see that much of him, to be honest."

"You mean you aren't all snuggled up in the farmhouse? You're wasting time, aren't you? I should have thought you'd have been over there, warming his bed for him."

"My relationship with Josh is purely professional."

Sara's eyes glinted dangerously, malice written all over her face. "Come on, don't be so nave. You're not telling me that cleaning is the only service you provide for him."

Simmering inside, Lucy summoned up every ounce of dignity, which was difficult while carrying a bottle of bleach and a broom. "Sara, I'm sorry you've split up, but it's nothing to do with me and if you have a problem with that, tough."

"I don't have a problem, and we haven't 'split up.' For your information, I dumped Josh. I can do better than him, much better, and I'm so-oo glad I realized in time. I'm going to London, Lucy. I've been offered a job by the Yachting Association. You see, Josh was only ever a bit of an amusement. You didn't think I'd ever actually marry a guy like him, did you? Frankly, you're welcome to him."

"He's a nice guy, Sara. He doesn't deserve to be spoken about like that."

Sara's eyes widened, then she let out a squeal of laughter. "A nice guy? Oh my God. Don't tell me, you're in love with him!" she cried, clapping her hands in delight.

"I am not in love with him!"

Sara shook her head in contempt.

"You need help, Sara," said Lucy softly, angry with herself for reacting.

"Oh, spare me the amateur psychology, please. It's you that needs help. Look at what you've sunk to. Senior executive at a City bank-not that anyone I know has ever heard of you. Now, you're just a glorified skivvy. A toilet cleaner."

Lucy felt something snap inside her. "Better than a stuck-up cow!"

Sara raised her eyebrows. "Oh my, my. Now we're seeing the real Lucy, but I can understand why you're so upset. He'll get tired of you, you know. A man like Josh wouldn't know commitment if you hit him over the head with it. He's a loner and the sooner you realize that, the better for you." She revved the engine of the Land Rover. "If you think a loser like you can change him, you're wrong."

"You're the only loser for driving Josh away," said Lucy as Sara wound up the window and pulled away. She wished she could think of something cutting, something withering and witty like Fiona would have done, but she was way too angry and upset.

And worst of all, she had the sickest feeling that Sara was right about one thing. She was falling for Josh and he would never have a place for her in his life. He was self-contained and he didn't need anyone. In frustration, she threw the scrubbing brush at the retreating Land Rover but it only hit the garden wall with a clatter. Smoke billowed from the exhaust as the car disappeared up the lane, the stink of diesel following Sara out of Tresco.

Leaving the scrubbing brush, Lucy stomped up the path, her heart banging fit to burst. She was angry with Josh for having led her on, upset at his coldness since that day at the beach, but Sara's spiteful words about him had hurt her even more. He'd cared deeply for Sara, Lucy was certain of that, and she had just laughed at him when she couldn't get her own way.

Lucy realized in that moment, that to be cared for by Josh would be something very special and being loved by him would be something else entirely.

Chapter 28.

A week after Sara had left Tresco, Lucy found herself hammering on the door of the farmhouse. A few frizzled leaves had already blown onto the path and the geraniums could really do with taking inside. It was evening and after the rain they'd had, the air held a distinct autumn chill, not helped by the message she'd come to deliver.

Josh, I'm leaving because I need to go home.

Josh, I'm going back to London to get a life.

Josh, I'm going home because I've fallen in love with you.

"I don't think so," she said under her breath as she waited for him to answer. She'd rehearsed the words a dozen times and each time, she'd given up trying to make them sound remotely convincing. Maybe she should send him a letter or email him via the new website she'd set up. Since Josh and Sara had split up, Lucy's growing friendship with Josh had been crushed. He hardly spoke to her beyond the absolute essentials and she was sure he'd found excuses to avoid discussing the renovations to the cottages.

She rattled the letterbox. "Josh, if you're in, can you open the door, please? I need to talk to you."

There was still no answer yet Lucy knew he must be at home. The pickup truck was parked in the yard and she could hear Tally barking inside the kitchen.

"OK, if you won't even speak to me so be it," she said and started walking back to the gate.

"Lucy."

When she turned round Josh was standing at the door, a towel slung low on his hips. "Sorry. I was in the shower."

She bit her lip. Water droplets were running down his face and chest and his hair, not quite so short these days, was damp and glistening.

"Do you always have to be wet?"

He frowned. "What?"

She smiled sadly. "Nothing."

"Are you going to come inside or are you going to keep me standing on the doorstep freezing my balls off?"

"I'd like to keep you standing on the doorstep, but on reflection-"

"Lucy, just come in please."

As she entered the kitchen, Tally jumped out of her basket and padded over, tail wagging in delight.

"Help yourself to a beer or a coffee. I'll just get dressed," said Josh.

Lucy was glad because the sight of his naked torso was weakening her resolve to tell him she was leaving. After he'd gone, unable to sit still, she filled the kettle and put it on the stove. She got out two mugs, spooned in the coffee, and waited for the familiar whistle.

She could hear Josh moving about upstairs, the old boards creaking above her head. Knowing he couldn't be much longer, she filled the mugs with hot water, splashed in some milk from a carton on the table, and sat down to wait for him. She wondered how he'd react to her news: he must be expecting it sooner or later. Would he be relieved? Disappointed? Would he try and disguise one emotion with another?

Tally laid her head on Lucy's knee and stared into her eyes hopefully. Lucy's bare knee was damp with drool but she didn't mind. "You still miss Hengist, don't you?" she said, stroking the dog's head.

"More to the point, does Hengist miss Tally?" said Josh, reappearing in the doorway in the threadbare Levis he'd worn at the boat club party. A dark blue T-shirt hid his chest away from temptation.

Lucy's heart thudded painfully in her chest. "Yes, Hengist misses Tally. Fiona phoned last night," she said, realizing Josh had handed her the perfect cue to tell him she was leaving. Yet still she wasn't quite ready to say the words out loud. "Apparently, he howls every time she puts him in the Land Rover and he goes wild if he sees a suitcase."

"I think Tally expects to see him every time we go for a walk by the creek," said Josh, leaning against the countertop. Lucy pressed her thighs together hard under the table, trying not to notice the way the worn denim tautened over his crotch.

"I've left your coffee on the countertop," she said.

"Thanks."

When he didn't make any attempt to touch it, she said softly, "I didn't really want one either."

"I know you didn't."

"Josh..."

"You're going home, aren't you?"

It hurt her throat to say the words. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Because of him?"

"No, not because of him." Then she stopped, thinking that if she could face telling Josh she was going away, she could face seeing Nick again and explaining, properly, why she couldn't marry him. She knew exactly why now.

"I can't lie to you, Josh. Not about this. It's true that, partly, I'm going back because of him. You see, I feel that I've run away by coming down here. Taken the coward's way out by staying here." She couldn't bring herself to say any more. She'd left it way too late to be telling him everything now. She'd felt like she'd wandered so far from the truth that it was impossible to find her way back.

Josh shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked away toward the casement window. It was what he did, she now realized, when he was cornered, possibly when he was hurt. And the fact he was hurt by her leaving made her heart skip in a stupidly hopeful way.

"I know you have to go," he said. "It was inevitable, I suppose. You don't belong here."

"And you do? You're from the city. You didn't ask to come here; I bet you hated it at first."

"I thought it was a Godforsaken dump full of hicks. I gave Marnie hell for at least a year. Now I feel the whole place has seeped into my blood, if that doesn't sound like a load of psycho-bollocks."

"Not bollocks, no," she said, smiling. "I understand exactly how you feel and I've only been here a few months. Josh, it's not that I feel I don't belong here or that I don't-absolutely-love Tresco Creek. It's more that I've got unfinished business to sort out and not just in my personal life."

"Will you go back to your old job?" he asked.

"No, probably not. I've been thinking, you see."

"That sounds dangerous," he said with a smile that didn't reach his cool-blue eyes.

"I know, but I like to live dangerously, as you know. I've been doing my research and I might be kidding myself, but I think I could build up a marketing and PR business specializing in travel and tourism clients-having hands-on experience, that is."

"You aren't kidding yourself," he said, finally picking up the drink she'd made him. "And I know you'll make a success of it. You're a fighter, a survivor."

"Well, I'll give it my best shot and if the whole thing goes pear-shaped then I could always go back to my old firm. They must be missing their plant-care consultant, not to mention their sandwich jockey."

Josh looked puzzled, then laughed. "Somehow I can't see you watering plants and fetching sandwiches. I'll bet you had a whole team of assistants to do that."

"Not as many as you think," she sighed. "It was all very egalitarian."

He sipped his coffee but Lucy still couldn't stomach hers.

"When are you leaving?"

"Next weekend after I've done the final changeover. You only have one booking after that until half-term so you'll manage OK without me. And I've spoken to Cally; she has a friend in Porthstow who's been looking for some Saturday work, maybe you could ask her over and see what you think?"

"Yeah. Maybe I will."

The old clock above the stove chimed the hour. It was five o'clock on a dim evening. Time to switch on the lamps, almost. Lucy didn't think she could cope with being seen in the light; in fact, she suddenly had a desperate need to be on her own.

Reaching down, she tangled her fingers in the strap of her bag. "If you don't mind, I've got some work to do on the computer. I want to do some surfing, maybe draft out a mail shot."

When she straightened up, he was standing in front of her.

"Don't go."

The shiver, as he spoke, whispered its way from the roots of her hair, down her spine to the tips of her toes. Reaching down, he took her bag from her hands, walked calmly over to the dresser, opened the door, and put it inside.

She stayed where she was, palms face down on her thighs, back straight, shaking inside. Then he held out his hand.

"My keys are in that bag. I can't leave without them."

"I know. Lucy, you're not going anywhere right now."

She needed his hand to help her to her feet because if she didn't take it, she thought her legs, already turned to jelly, might give way. "Don't be silly. I have to."

"Not until I've said what I have to say. Do you remember the day you came in here to talk about taking this job and I said that I was only offering you a job and that it meant nothing more?"

"Yes, I remember." She hesitated, then met his eyes. "In fact, it's etched on my memory."

"So you were upset?"

"Annoyed. It was patronizing."

"Oh, fu- Sorry." He raked a hand over his head. "OK. I'll try again. Would it help to know I lied to you that day?"

She had no answer to that but he'd obviously got into his stride and didn't dare stop now.

"In fact, I lied a lot and I've hated lying, but I did it because I thought it was kinder on Sara and on you. Now I know I was lying because it was easier on me. Easier than having to face up to the fact that things weren't working with Sara and that I had feelings for you. If I had been honest, do you know what I would have said?"

He took a step toward her. Oh God, she thought, if he touches me I'm going to make a fool of myself.

"What I really wanted to say was that I wanted you so much it was hurting me. Just like now. What I really wanted to do then and what I really want to do now is lay you back on the kitchen table and make love to you."

Smiling tenderly, he kissed her on the lips.

"I want to make love to you too. Very much," she whispered as he pulled her against him. With that, he lifted her up with one swift movement so that she had to fling her arms round his neck and her legs round his waist for support, the peachy softness of his jeans rubbing against the tender skin on the inside of her thighs. He laid her gently on the table, the oak hard and cool beneath her skin as he pushed up her skirt. Newspapers, cutlery, and a cookie packet flew off the wooden surface as he swept them away with his hand. Something clanged on the tiles, then there was a crash as a mug shattered and the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

Tally let out a howl and shot out of the kitchen.