The casual jeans and sweater he was wearing should have made him look less imposing, but somehow they didn't. He was a man who did not need expensive clothes to make one aware of his power, Heather realised, as she stepped back instinctively when confronted by him.

'Still the same old Heather,' he goaded softly. 'Still retreating into your own safe s.p.a.ce and giving off "keep off" signs.'

'I've got the books ready for you,' she told him shortly, turning her back on him.

'What a welcome. Don't I even get offered a cup of coffee?'

He was already making his way toward the kitchen, and Heather felt the old familiar antagonism spike through her.

'I didn't think you'd want to waste time drinking coffee. Not when it was so imperative that you have the books tonight.'

'I told you, I want to go through them before we lunch tomorrow. Forget the coffee, if that's how you feel." He shrugged, and as he moved Heather saw that he actually looked tired and strained.

Guilt attacked her. Kyle did love her parents, and his love was a stronger, more altruistic caring than her own. She knew that, and she hated the way he made her feel small-minded and mean.

'There's some made. I'll heat up some milk.'

Although he said nothing, she saw the tightening of his mouth at her curt response.

The moment he walked into the kitchen Meg greeted him with an ecstatic welcome. She obviously remembered him, and again Heather had to conquer a ridiculous surge of jealousy.

'Here's your coffee.' She put it down. 'I'll just go and get the books.'

When she brought them back he was stretched out in the chair, his eyes closed. What was it about seeing such a powerful-looking man so apparently vulnerable that brought an odd lump to her throat?

Hurriedly she cleared her throat, and immediately his head lifted. She handed him the folders and he put them down, quickly checking through them.

'There doesn't seem to be an order book here.'

'Oh, it's upstairs... I'll go and get it.'

It was in her room. She had taken it up with her last night when she'd gone to bed.

She didn't realise that Kyle had followed her upstairs until she opened the door to her room.

She had recently completed redecorating it, using oddments of fabric and wallpapers she had picked up at bargain prices. Stencils which she had designed and painted herself broke up the starkness of the plain walls, and she had experimented on her old furniture with dragging and marbling techniques to achieve what she rather proudly felt was an extremely effective up-date.

'I see you've still got Charles.'

Kyle's voice behind her made her jump and spin round, her whole body bristling with resentment at his intrusion into her own private sanctum.

Charles was her old teddy bear, and he still held pride of place on her dressing-table. She had kept him purely out of sentiment, but now, seeing him through Kyle's yes, she saw him as a symbol of a stupidly childish woman who refused to grow up. s.n.a.t.c.hing him up, she pushed him behind a curtain.

'I wasn't criticising,' Kyle told her. 'I've still got the first present your folks ever gave me. A football.'

'I remember it...' She did indeed. She could remember the day she and her parents had gone out to buy it. They had been so excited about the prospect of Kyle coming to live with them permanently, and she had been resentful and determined to be as difficult as possible.

They had wanted to buy him a fort, complete with toy soldiers, but had finally settled on the football. They had bought her a doll, which she had never touched, she remembered, sighing for the stubborn, difficult child she had been.

'Heather...'

Was that really diffidence she could hear in his voice? Abruptly she turned away, not wanting to hear whatever it was he was going to say.

'Here's the full order book. We'd better go down, your coffee will be getting cold. Or would you like to have a look at your old room while we're up here, just for "old times' sake"?'

She bit her lip immediately she had made the sarcastic remark. What was the matter with her? Already she seemed to be doing her best to antagonise Kyle. She saw his mouth thin and tighten.

'Still the same old Heather, after all.'

The weary resignation she heard in his voice was so out of character that she stared at him. 'Kyle...'

'Forget it. I thought you'd finally grown up, Heather, but it seems I was wrong. I'll take all this stuff home with me and then we can discuss it over lunch tomorrow. How well do you know Bath?'

'Reasonably,' she responded, not sure where his question was leading.

'I own a property just outside the city. We'll meet there.'

Back in the kitchen he gave her the address and directions. Heather had a good idea where it was and a.s.sured him that she shouldn't have any problems in finding it.

'Good. I'll see you there about twelve.'

He got up and picked up all the files, leaving Heather to almost run after him as he headed for the door in long strides.

'Be careful when you're driving,' he warned her as she let him out. 'Frost and then more snow is forecast... just as well he decided to leave.'

The taunting note in his voice reminded her of Howard's hurried exit, and she demanded angrily, 'Just what exactly did you say to him?'

'What makes you think it was something I said? Perhaps he got scared and changed his mind. You've got a very hungry look about you, Heather. Some men might find that intimidating.'

'But not you, I suppose,' Heather challenged, too angry to watch her words.

'Are you trying to tell me that you actually want to find out?'

Of course she wasn't, and he knew it! This element of s.e.xual tension had never been there in their previous relationship of mutual antipathy, and she couldn't understand how it came to be there now. It confused and alarmed her. She wasn't used to indulging in this kind of riposte with Kyle, and when he made comments like that it threw her. As he fully intended it should do, she suspected angrily. While she hunted desperately to think up a suitably crushing retort, he was already turning to leave.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' were his last words to her.

CHAPTER FOUR.

ODDLY, in view of her pending luncheon engagement with Kyle; Heather slept very well, but the moment she woke up her tension returned. Yesterday's headache was now just a vague nagging pain in the back of her neck and, while her concern over the financing of her father's operation had eased, she was now on edge in a different way.

She had told herself, from the moment she'd accepted that she would have to approach Kyle on her parents' behalf, that her memories of him were coloured by her own immaturity and jealousy, and that he could not be as all-powerful as she had imagined. It had been disturbing to discover how quickly and how easily he could make her feel fourteen years old again.

Today, though, he was not going to catch her off guard. She would be in full control. She would be calm and restrained, and they would talk about the business as though he was as remote from her personal life as her father's bank manager or accountant.

It worried her how quickly and easily he seemed to have slipped back into their lives. It was almost as though he had never been gone.

He made her feel like a cat with its fur stroked the wrong way, all on edge and ruffled.

Her skin was too pale, she acknowledged as she got ready. Too many sleepless nights and too much worry had taken their toll on her. She had lost weight; the skirt she had decided to wear was loose on her waist, her face looked drained and tired, and even her hair, normally so vibrant and full of life, seemed lackl.u.s.tre.

An hour later, she stood back from her mirror and viewed her reflection critically. It was amazing what make-up could achieve. She hadn't gone to art school for nothing and, although there was nothing heavy or overdone about the way she had made up her face, she had subtly managed to conceal nearly all the effects of the last few very harrowing days.

It wasn't snowing when she left, although snow was forecast and it was bitterly cold. The roads were treacherous, with deep ruts of frozen slush and patches of ice.

The van had been slow to start, coughing and sputtering protestingly, and it seemed to Heather as she drove that the engine note didn't sound quite as it ought.

She drove slowly and carefully, not wanting to take any risks. She had allowed herself plenty of time, and Kyle's directions were very clear and concise.

He hadn't given her any explanation as to why he wanted her to call at his home, other than to say that sometimes he preferred to work from there. She had half expected to find him living in one of the many very lovely formal mansions in the countryside surrounding Bath, but instead, when she finally turned in through the gates and up the drive, she discovered in front of her a low, rambling farmhouse built in cream stone under a slate roof.

Kyle's car, a powerful Jaguar, stood outside, and although the informal gardens looked bare under the harsh winter sky Heather could well imagine that in spring and summer this must be an idyllic spot.

Kyle came out to greet her as she stopped the van.

If anything, the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Or maybe it was just because she was so cold that she thought it had, for as they went inside Kyle remarked casually, glancing at the sky, 'We'll have snow before the afternoon's over. I can smell it in the air, can't you?'

She hadn't come here to listen to idle conversation about the weather, Heather thought tensely, as she allowed him to take her heavy coat. The heating system in the van was temperamental to say the least, and she shivered as she took her coat off.

'Cold? Come into the library.'

The floor in the hallway was uneven and homely, huge polished stone slabs with rich dark rugs over them.

Kyle opened one of the doors and stood back to let her pa.s.s. The doorway was only narrow, and as she moved forward Heather caught the clean male scent of his skin. Instantly her muscles froze, a faint frisson of sensation skittering down her spine.

'What's the matter?'

She caught Kyle's frown as she hurried forward, her face flushing uncomfortably in the realisation of her almost s.e.xual awareness of him.

'Just cold, that's all,' she fibbed, hurrying towards the fire burning in the huge stone grate.

On the carved wooden mantel she could see a coat of arms with a Latin inscription, and she pretended to be engrossed in it to give herself time to get back to normal. What was the matter with her? It was completely crazy that she should have imagined, even for a second, that that peculiar frisson had been caused by anything remotely s.e.xual. She disliked and detested Kyle; he wasn't her type of man. She had always viewed his life-style with distaste, and she could no more imagine the thought of him as her lover than she could...

With a shock of sensation that brought hot colour burning all through her body, she stopped herself. It must be the worry, she thought distractedly, that must be what was causing all these odd thoughts to come to mind.

'Drink?'

It took her several seconds to focus on what he was saying.

'Oh, yes... er... coffee, please...'

'Stay here, I'll go and get it.'

She couldn't help lifting her eyebrows and asking mockingly, 'You'll go and get it? Rather a comedown, isn't it, for the great Kyle Bennett? I should have thought you'd have a string of willing handmaidens to perform such mundane tasks as that.'

'I have a woman from the village who comes in to clean and gets in the shopping for me. You forget, Heather, when you've been inst.i.tutionalised you soon learn the true value of having your own privacy.'

She felt her skin heat up in shamed embarra.s.sment at her implied lack of insight. It infuriated her that Kyle seemed to have this knack of always putting her in the wrong, of making her feel that her emotional responses were shallow and childish.

As though the small, bitter exchange had never taken place, he asked casually, 'Black or white?'

'White, please.'

When he had gone she stretched out her hands to the fire, luxuriating in its warmth.

'We'll get business out of the way first and then we'll have lunch. I hope you still like chicken ca.s.serole.'

'We're eating here?'

'Why not? You don't have any objection, do you? I promise you I'm not going to poison you. I've rather a lot to get through before I leave for the States, and, to be honest, I simply don't have the time to drive a dozen or more miles to eat what would probably be an indifferent meal, surrounded by the unedifying babble of the conversation of others.'

'Forgive me, I'm sorry if I'm taking up too much of your valuable time,' Heather interrupted sarcastically, still sore from their previous exchange, and reaching for her bag. ' You were the one who wanted to talk, Kyle. I-'

'All right, come down off your high horse.'

Heather gasped as he took hold of her and firmly pushed her down into a chair.

'G.o.d, why on earth is it that you always have to twist everything I say, Heather? If I hadn't wanted to see you today, I wouldn't have suggested that we have lunch together but, having said that, I felt that what we had to say to one another could best be said in the comfort and privacy of my home than over a dining-table in public.'

He had a point, of course, but Heather didn't want to acknowledge it.

'And, of course, my time isn't valuable, is that it?' she demanded acidly. 'It doesn't matter that I've had to waste over an hour driving here, and then an hour driving back, two hours when I could have been working.'

'Could you?' Kyle asked her wryly, reaching down on to the table in front of him and picking up their order book.

As he deliberately thumbed through the betrayingly empty pages, Heather fought to control her chagrin.

'All right, so we don't have a lot of orders on hand at the moment, but-'

'But nothing, Heather. The business is finished. You know it and I know it,' he interrupted flatly. 'Your father's heading for bankruptcy unless he gets out now, and I mean now... like immediately. I've been to see your mother this morning-which is why I invited you here, by the way. She's agreed, and so has your father, that I can take over the business with immediate effect. From this morning, your father's company officially became a part of Bennett Enterprises.'

Heather stared at him. 'You've taken over the company? But...'

'Lock, stock and barrel,' Kyle told her calmly. 'Between us, your mother and I managed to persuade your father that he's never going to be physically strong enough again to go back on the road and run the business as well. To be honest with you, I think he was quite relieved by my offer. I've paid him enough for the company to ensure that he and your mother will have a comfortable retirement.'

'You've paid for the company? You mean, you've bought it from him?'

'Is there any other way of acquiring someone else's business legally, other than marrying into it?' Kyle asked sardonically. 'Certainly I've bought it from him. Come on, Heather, you know your father. Did you honestly think he would sit back and simply allow me to pay for his operation?'

Of course, he was right.

'But the company isn't worth anything,' she told him slowly. 'My father knows that.'