'THIS isn't the way back to your house.'

They had left the airport behind, and Heather frowned as she recognised the familiar environs of Bath.

'No, I said I'd show you the site of the new shopping arcade. Give you a taste of what your new job will involve.'

She sat back, half shocked, half thrilled. He still intended to give her the job? She was surprised, she couldn't deny it. Unless... her whole body went cold, and she rubbed instinctively at her goose-pimpled arms. Unless it was because of her parents that he still intended to employ her; because he didn't want to hurt or worry them; because he knew how pleased they would be to learn that she had a safe, secure job with him that wouldn't take her too far away from them. But how could she accept employment on those terms? She wanted him to want and value her for herself. If he couldn't love her, then surely at least she could have his respect? And taking a job that was purely and simply a sinecure was no way to achieve that. Besides, how could she work for him, feeling as she did? It was impossible.

It was equally impossible for her not to be impressed when Kyle stopped the car a few yards short of the half-restored arcade.

It was very much as he had described to her, and from the section of the arcade which was already partially restored it was possible to see what the finished effect would be. The Georgian bow windows cried out for subtle, delicate decoration, the traditional cobbled pedestrian-way invited people to linger.

There would be benches at intervals, and a traditional form of street lighting. The opportunity to orchestrate a unifying flow of window decor for the entire complex was one that couldn't be turned down lightly. Heather tried not to allow herself to imagine the pleasure she could have found in the work if she and Kyle were meeting as equals. She couldn't do it. She couldn't take a job that was being offered to her simply because of her parents.

'Kyle...' She turned to tell him as much but he was frowning, his voice clipped.

'Heather, I know what you're thinking. What you're going to say. I can't in all honesty pretend that I can forget last night, but I promise you I won't let it interfere in our business relationship, if that's what's worrying you. You won't have to pay for your job by sleeping with the boss.' He said the words with distaste, his mouth contorted in a faint grimace. 'For your parents' sake, though, if nothing else", I want you to promise me that you won't leave either my home or my employ. Promise me.'

A cold wind whistled through the deserted arcade*, making her shiver. 'Promise me.' She was trapped and they both knew it. How quickly he had divined her intentions! But it wasn't as easy as that.

Her breath shook in her lungs as she breathed in. She mustn't let herself be tied to a promise she wasn't sure she could keep.

'Kyle, I don't think I can make that sort of commitment. After last night...well, you must see how difficult it would be.'

He wasn't going to make it any easier for her, she recognised, facing his grim silence.

'For me to work for you would be bad enough, but to carry on living with you...that would be intolerable for both of us. You must see that,' she pleaded wildly.

'As a matter of fact, I don't. What's so different, other than the fact that we've made love? You can't spend the rest of your life running away from situations you can't face up to. I'm sorry if...' He saw her shiver in the cold and broke off. 'This isn't the place to discuss this. Let's go home.'

There was no point in arguing with him now, Heather consoled herself, as she meekly went with him to the car.

She would tell him tonight of her plans to return home. She fell asleep on the way back, waking only when Kyle shook her. When she opened her eyes she couldn't remember where she was. To open her eyes and see Kyle looking down at her made her forget reality in favour of fantasy. Without even thinking what she was doing she reached out to him, checking herself abruptly when the bright arc of another vehicle's headlights cut through the darkness.

The other vehicle stopped, and then a door opened. A man walked round to Kyle's door. 'We've brought the tree you ordered, Mr Bennett. Where would you like it?'

'If you could take it round the back for me, John, that would be fine.'

The look of pain and disappointment she had thought she had seen in his eyes as she withdrew from him must have been nothing more than a product of her own imagination, Heather acknowledged dully as she got out of the car.

'You go in,' Kyle instructed her. 'I'll go with John.'

She paused for a moment, watching him stride away to help the other man manhandle the large Christmas tree tied to the back of the his small van.

She hadn't envisaged Kyle involved in anything as ordinary as putting up a real Christmas tree. She had half expected him to ignore that aspect of the seasonal festivities, and instead perhaps settle for some outrageously expensive and chic minimalistic Christmas decor.

'I thought we'd dress it this evening,' he told her, walking into the sitting-room later to find her standing in front of it.

This was her opportunity to tell him that she wouldn't be there this evening, that she was leaving, returning to her own home; but stupidly she found herself agreeing, knowing even as she did so that the greater part of her wanted to stay. It was no use telling herself that her behaviour was dangerously close to emotional suicide. Dangerous not because she wanted to stay, but because she wanted to be with Kyle.

After they had eaten, Kyle went upstairs and returned with several large cardboard boxes.

'I think there should be enough stuff in here. I'll check the lights and you can sort the rest.'

It was such a familiar and comforting ritual, and one she had shared in so many, many times.

She tried not to think about the first Christmas without Kyle. They had all been subdued, even though her parents had pretended not to be. She had looked in vain for a card from him, believing with all the pa.s.sionate intensity of her eighteen years that her life could only return to normal once she had some sign from him that she was forgiven.

It was only slowly and painfully that she had learned that that sort of forgiveness could not be bestowed by anyone else, but had to come from within oneself.

'You're looking very pensive. What's on your mind?'

Here was her chance to tell him that she must leave, but foolishly she said nothing, denying that there was anything worrying her.

She watched him surrept.i.tiously as he worked. His hands were strong and sure, and yet careful. He had infinite patience, she reflected, watching him. One day he would marry and have children, she was sure of it, and she was pierced by jealousy at the thought.

The tree was large and it took them two hours to dress it to their mutual satisfaction.

'Are you expecting many guests for Christmas?' Heather asked him, as she stepped back to study it from a distance.

'No, there'll just be two of us.'

His reply shocked her, her hand stilling as she reached put to adjust a piece of tinsel.

'Just... but...'

'You've been through a very traumatic time recently. I didn't think you'd be in the mood for a horde of house guests.'

She blinked, stunned that he should even have considered her feelings. Ridiculously, all she could think of to say was a husky, 'And I haven't even got you a present.'

'You've already given it to me.'

For a moment she couldn't think, much less speak, her breath trapped deep in her lungs, her mind shocked by what she had heard, and then the intimacy of those few quiet words. .h.i.t her, and with a small cry she rushed past him and up the stairs.

In her bedroom she sank down on to the bed, shivering with a mixture of sensations. Why had he had to say that? She had suspected him of irony or worse, but hadn't been able to see any in his face, and yet he couldn't have meant to imply that... he couldn't really have felt that pa.s.sionate sincerity she had heard in his voice.

'Heather?'

She held her breath as she heard him outside her door.

'I didn't mean to upset you. Please come back down. I've arranged for us to telephone your parents at ten.'

Unwillingly, Heather opened the door. He looked paler than usual and his face seemed thinner. He needed a shave, and she ached to reach out and touch the roughness of his jaw. A faint smile touched her mouth as she looked at him.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, I was just admiring your "designer stubble".'

He frowned and she had to explain what she meant.

'It's supposed to be a big turn on,' she added wryly. 'Pop stars deliberately cultivate it, because they think it makes them look s.e.xy.'

'And what do you think?' he asked her softly. . She was treading on dangerous ground, and if she wasn't careful she was going to find herself admitting that, as far as she was concerned, he didn't need any aids to increase his s.e.xuality. Evasively she replied, 'I'm not really into pop stars any more.'

When they got through to her parents, they were just settling down for the evening. Heather spoke to both of them and was delighted to hear her father sounding so well and relaxed.

When she had finished she handed the receiver over to Kyle. While he spoke to them she looked at the Christmas tree. It was going to be an odd sort of Christmas this year. She tried not to feel abandoned because she wouldn't be spending it with her family.

Shortly after Kyle had replaced the receiver she excused herself, fibbing that she was tired and wanted an early night.

Instantly his expression darkened.

'I thought you and I were going to talk,' he said quietly. 'What is it, Heather?' he demanded when she made no response. 'Is the fact that you and I have been lovers really so repulsive to you that you can't even bear to talk about it? What if we have a child? There is that possibility, you know. I... I didn't use any.. .anything, and since you were a virgin I a.s.sume that you...'

'Yes...that is, no...I didn't take any precautions.' She knew that her face was hot with embarra.s.sed colour. He was quite right, of course, although she calculated that the chances of her becoming pregnant were very small.

'If you have conceived my child we shall have to get married. No...please, let me finish. You know what my background is, I can well understand how any woman would feel about having a child by a man who knows nothing of his father and whose mother virtually deserted him, but I have to. say this. I won't let you have an abortion, and I certainly won't let you bring my child up alone. I have very strong feelings on the subject, I'm sure you'll understand why. We...'

'We can't get married.' Panic drove her voice into a high-pitched protest as she contemplated the sheer anguish of being married to Kyle simply because she was the mother of his child.

'Heather...'

SheJ.umped up, shaking her head. 'No... I don't want to talk about it. We don't know if I could get pregnant yet. Oh, G.o.d, I wish...'

'That you'd never met me?' Kyle supplied for her. 'You haven't changed at all really, have you, Heather? You still loathe and resent me as much as you always did.' He got up as well. 'Very well, we won't discuss it tonight. It's been a long day, but I warn you, if you are carrying my child...'

Heather wouldn't let him finish, interrupting wildly, 'That's all that matters to you, isn't it? I'm just totally unimportant... incidental. It doesn't matter what I think or feel.'

'Heather!'

He called her back as she opened the door, but she couldn't listen to any more. Of course, she could understand how he felt, but that didn't ease her pain; that didn't stop her from experiencing the agony of knowing that to him she was just someone he would have to endure for the sake of his child.

She wasn't pregnant, she was sure of it, just as she was equally sure that Kyle wasn't going to let her out of his sight willingly until she managed to convince him that she was right. It wouldn't be easy. She knew that already. If she left now, and returned home as she had planned, he would suspect that she was trying to deceive him. If she stayed.. .if she stayed, she would be able to convince him eventually that she wasn't having his child, but she would also run the risk of betraying to him how she felt about him.

She was caught in a cleft stick, Heather acknowledged wearily, and faced with a problem to which there appeared to be no straightforward solution.

She was no closer to finding one on Christmas Eve. Mrs Evans had arrived later than usual, complaining that she wasn't feeling well. She hadn't slept for several days, she told Heather, and to make matters worse her husband wasn't well, either.

Heather listened to her with one ear as she-helped the other woman prepare for the holiday weekend. How was she going to feel tomorrow, sharing her Christmas lunch with Kyle, being alone with him all day?

This morning he was working. An urgent phone call had taken him into his office. Already, in a frighteningly short time she had allowed him to become too important to her. How was she going to feel when eventually she found the strength to walk away? It wasn't going to be easy. Only she knew how much time she spent fantasising about their one night together, trying to imagine what it would be like to live with him properly and share his life.

She glanced at Mrs Evans. The older woman did look white and tired. On impulse, Heather offered to go upstairs and bring down a couple of Kyle's sleeping tablets.

'I'm sure he won't mind, and they should ensure that you get at least one good night's sleep.'

'Well, if you're sure he won't mind. I don't like bothering the doctor. Not at this time of year. Well, they get so busy, don't they?'

'I'm sure Kyle won't mind at all,' Heather a.s.sured her. 'I won't be a minute.'

She brought the whole bottle down. Mrs Evans was ready and waiting to leave, but as Heather uncapped -the bottle the phone rang. As she picked it up, the bottle slipped from her fingers, the tablets scattering all over the sitting-room floor.

'Don't worry about them. I'll pick them up later,' she mouthed to Mrs Evans, offering her two from the few that still remained in the bottle.

She took them with a smile and mouthed back, 'I'll let myself out. Have a good Christmas.'

Kyle had already given Mrs Evans her Christmas bonus. Once she had gone, Heather concentrated on listening to her mother, who had rung to tell her how well her father was doing.

'I miss you,' Heather confessed. 'Christmas won't be the same without you.'

A little to her chagrin, her mother made no reply, and said instead, 'How's Kyle? I've been worrying about him. He works far too hard.'

'He's working this morning, but he should be back soon.'

No sooner had she replaced the receiver than the milkman arrived. Kyle had given her an envelope for him which she had left upstairs. As she raced up to get it she heard Kyle's car arrive. While she paid the milkman at the back door, she heard Kyle come in and walk into the sitting-room.

She had just closed the back door when she heard him call her name, and she froze at the sound of harsh anguish that filled the hallway.

Unable to move, she heard him rush upstairs, still calling her name. He sounded like a man demented by the possibility of some unimaginable grief.

Like a sleep-walker, she went into the hall.

'Kyle, I'm here.'

For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her, and then he stopped and turned. 'Oh, my G.o.d, are you all right?'

She was standing at the bottom of the stairs when he reached her, and she could feel his whole body shuddering as he wrapped his arms around her.

'Heather, Heather, you little fool. Were you really so desperate to escape from me? How many have you taken?'

She stepped back from him. He shook her violently.

'How many, Heather, d.a.m.n you? Oh G.o.d, I don't know if I can go through this again! Once in one lifetime's enough for any man. Come with me.'

He was dragging her towards the door before she managed to speak.

'Kyle, please stop. I haven't done anything. I'm not trying to escape from you/ She glanced into the sitting-room and saw the spilled tablets. 'Oh, heavens, I forgot about those. I'd better pick them up.'

'You forgot?'

She heard the tormented sound of his voice, and knew then exactly what he had feared. Her own face went almost white as his.

'You thought that I... ?' Her eyes rounded with shocked realisation. 'Oh, Kyle, no...Mrs Evans hasn't been sleeping. I gave her two. They spilled out of the bottle. You surely didn't think that I..,?'

'Why not?' he accused roughly. 'You did it once before.'

'That was a mistake!' Her anguished cry silenced them both. They faced each other like two adversaries.