'You mean-they were the people who used to employ you.'

'That's right.'

'And-you went to see him?'

Jake nodded. 'I did.'

'And?'

He shook his head. 'What do you think?'

'You couldn't get your old job back again.'

His laugh was cynical. 'Oh, Joanna! If only it were that simple.'

'I don't understand.'

'Nor do I. That's the trouble!'

At last she began to see what he was getting at. 'You mean-you couldn't cope with the mechanics of it?'

'Mechanics?' He gave her a wry look. 'We're not talking about mechanics, Joanna. We're talking about electronics. Gordon-he gave me a circuit layout of a new calculator they're designing, and you know what? It was like Greek to me!' He shook his head.

'Greek!'

'Does it matter?'

She looked at him appealingly, and he had to drag his eyes away from the yielding temptation she represented. 'It matters to me,' he said violently. 'It matters to me.'

'Why?'

'Why?' He was forced to look at her then. 'Joanna, don't make this any harder. I have little enough to offer you, G.o.d knows, but I thought, if I could take up my work, be able to offer you a decent home, a decent standard of living -'

Joanna stared at him. 'You mean-you mean you came down to London because of me? Because you wanted to prove yourself to me?''

'Haven't I just said so?' he muttered heavily. 'G.o.d knows, I tried not to think about you, but after you'd gone, I thought I was going out of my mind!'

Joanna shook her head. 'You really came here because of me?'

Jake bent his head. 'What do you want me to do? Draw you a picture?'

'No!' Joanna was near to tears. 'Just-just tell me that you love me.

That's the only thing that matters.'

Jake's eyes lingered on the tremulous curve of her mouth.

'You know I love you,' he said, though the words were dragged from him.

'Why the h.e.l.l else did I send you away?'

Joanna pushed herself towards him, pressing her face into the muscular expanse of his chest, fingers probing the b.u.t.tons of his shirt. 'That's not a good enough reason for me,' she exclaimed, sniffing uncontrollably. 'Oh, Jake, I won't let you ruin both our lives, just for the sake of a stupid micro-circuit! If we have to live in a barn, I don't care just so long as it's with you, so stop killing yourself and me by being so-so stubborn!'

'You have to give me time,' he muttered huskily, aroused in spite of himself. 'Gordon's given me some work to do- simple stuff, mostly, but it'l prove once and for all what I can or can't do.'

'Let me help you,' she pleaded, lifting her head. 'We can be together -'.

'No.'

'What do you mean-no?'

'I mean, I have to do this alone, Joanna. I can't ask you to share my life as it is -'

'You're a fool!' Joanna was desperate now, drawing back from him, aware of the loosened b.u.t.tons of her shirt, the irresistible allure of her exposed flesh. 'What am I supposed to do while you prove yourself? Wait for you? Hang about here, waiting for something that may never happen- I love you, Jake. I need you.'

'Give me time,' he groaned tautly. 'Joanna; -'

'No!' She would prove to him that she could be as stubborn as he was. 'Either you want me or you don't. And if you don't, someone else -'

'No one else,' he commanded savagely, grasping her shoulders and shaking her. 'I couldn't stand that. The thought of you and some other man. Even Trevor -'

'Paul?' Joanna arched her brows. 'Oh, yes, Paul. I wonder how he -' , But she didn't finish the sentence. Unable to resist the combined force of her beauty and his own jealousy, Jake hauled her to him, covering her mouth with his own in a rough, primitive embrace.

'All right,' he said against her lips, his breath almost suffocating her, 'you win. I can't take the chance that you might find someone else in my absence.'

'There is no one else,' she breathed, unb.u.t.toning his shirt so that the hair-roughened skin of his chest was sc.r.a.ping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. 'Mmm, that's nice, isn't it? Hold me. Hold me closer. I never want to be apart from you again.'

'You won't be,' he muttered, turning so that she was lying beside him on the couch. 'That is, if your mother and Aunt Lydia, or even my sister, don't succeed in changing your mind.'

Joanna's slender fingers twined in the hair at his nape. 'Will they change yours?'

Jake gave a helpless shake of his head. 'Where is your mother anyway? What if she comes in and finds us like this?'

'She's away-until Sunday,' murmured Joanna, faint colour invading her cheeks at the idea that had just occurred to her.

'Why don't you stay here tonight, too? It would save you having to come back in the morning.'

Jake's eyes narrowed. 'Is that what you want?'

'Is it what you want?'

His grimace was faintly humorous. 'Oh, Joanna, you know what I want.'

Her breathing was forced and shallow. 'Show me ...'

He hesitated for a moment, his hand running possessively along the inner curve of her thigh, and then, with a muttered denial, he rolled on to his back. 'Joanna, there's no turning back, you know. If-if I make love to you, I shan't let you go.'

'Did I ask you to?'

'But you're so-inexperienced,' he exclaimed harshly, as she levered herself up to look down at him.

'You can change that,' she murmured, her fingers straying daringly over his fiat stomach until he imprisoned them against him. 'Let's go to bed, Jake ...'

His expression softened. 'All right.'

With a feeling of unbearable antic.i.p.ation she scrambled off the couch, but as she went to turn off the lamp, another sound came to her ears. It was the sound of someone crying. Anya!

With a startled glance at Jake who had heard the sound, too, she b.u.t.toned her shirt and hurried into her mother's bedroom.

For an awful moment she thought the child had got out-of bed and discovered that her father was here, but it was soon obvious that Anya had just awakened, and that her tears were instigated by fear, not anger.

'Joanna,' she sniffed, when she saw the older girl leaning over the bed. 'Oh, Joanna, I was having an awful nightmare ! I-I dreamt that we-Daddy and I-were in the car with Mummy again, and she was trying to kill us all.'

'Honey, don't!' Joanna sank down on to the bed beside her and took one of the little girl's cold hands in both of hers. 'You've been dreaming, that's all. No one's trying to hurt you. You're safe with me. And-and Daddy's here, too.'

'He is?' Anya was evidently delighted. 'Where is he? Can I see him?'

'I'm here, Anya.' Jake came to squat at the other side of the bed, his eyes encountering Joanna's with none of the coldness she had been half afraid of. She remembered too well his reactions when Anya interrupted them before, but this time it was different, and he was letting her know it.

'What are you doing here, Daddy?' Anya asked, in a shrill childish treble, as the demands of the conscious overcame her fear of the subconscious. 'Did Joanna call you? How did you get here so soon?'

'I was already in London,' Jake explained gently, dark and disturbing in his white shirt, the collar still open to reveal the shadow of hair beneath. 'Aunt Marcia knew where to contact me, and she did.'

Anya sighed. 'Did Joanna tell you why I came? Are you very cross with me?'

'I should be,' he averred huskily, glancing at Joanna. 'But in the circ.u.mstances, perhaps you did us both a favour.'

Anya frowned. 'Why? Is Joanna coming back with us?'

Jake hesitated. 'And if she is?'

'Terrific!' Anya's mouth lifted.

Jake looked at Joanna again. 'What if I told you she was coming back, but not to be your governess?'

'Not to be?' Anya looked confused. 'But -'

'What if I told you I wanted to marry her?' Jake continued softly.

'Would that make you feel differently?'

Anya was obviously finding it all difficult to absorb.

'Does-does Joanna want to marry you?' she asked, giving the girl a studied look, and Joanna intervened.

'I love you, and I love your father,' she said simply. 'And if your father and I got married you'd have both a mother and father again.'

Anya's mouth trembled. 'I don't think I want a mother,' she said uncertainly. 'Why can't you just be my governess? My friend?'

'A mother should be all those things,' declared Joanna gently.

'Anya, try to understand. Your father is lonely. I'm lonely. And you're lonely, too. Let's make each other happy.'

Anya still looked doubtful. 'Would we be coming back to live in London?'

Jake bent his head. 'Some day, maybe.'

'Would I still have to go to boarding school?'

'Don't you want to go to boarding school?'

'Not much.'

'Then we'd talk about it,' said Joanna practically. 'If you promised to behave yourself, I suppose we might find a day school that would take you.'

'Would you take me to school, Daddy?' asked Anya anxiously.

'Like you used to do?'

Jake smiled. 'If that's what you want.'

'And could we have holidays and things, and wouldn't you mind being seen in public and everything?'

'I'd make sure he didn't,' a.s.serted Joanna firmly, challenging Jake's tawny gaze with her own green ones.

Anya sighed. 'Can I think about it?'

Jake chuckled. 'I think you ought to go to sleep, don't you?

We'll talk about it in the morning, hmm?'

'Are you staying here, too?' asked Anya anxiously, looking up as he got to his feet, and although Joanna held her breath, he nodded.

'Go to sleep,' he said, taking Joanna's arm to lead her from the room.

'I'll see you in the morning.'

Joanna went into the kitchen and Jake followed her. 'Would you like some coffee?' she asked, still half afraid he might have changed his mind, but he shook his head, drawing her possessively back against him.

'All I want is you,' he said, with beguiling sweetness, and this time when he swung her into his arms, there was no drawing back.

Nine months later, Joanna stood at the bedroom window of the flat near St James's Park, which Jake had bought soon after the accident.

Behind her she could hear the running water in the shower, and guessed that Jake would not be long before he joined her.

That evening they had given their first dinner party, for Gordon Blakeney and his wife, and it had been a success, and she wrapped her arms about herself with a feeling of almost unbelievable happiness.

The water stopped running and a few minutes later Jake entered their bedroom, dark and disturbingly attractive in his cream bathrobe. Drops of water still sparkled on the silky gleam of his hair, and he tossed the towel he had been carrying on to the floor as he came towards her.