Page 17 of Passion's Prey


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'An Easter bride,' she repeated softly, then, as a tiny icy finger touched her spine, she shivered. 'I just wish it wasn't so long, that's all.'

'But it isn't, Pet.' He shook his head in admonishment. 'I've got to settle in to my new job, get to know the staff—and the boys, of course. And there's a lot of work to be done on the house we'll occupy.' He smiled at her reassuringly. 'The time'll soon pass, I promise you.'

'Yes, you're right.' But she did not quite manage to return his smile. 'Look, are you sure you won't have tea before you go? I can easily—'

'No, I must go, love. My office is still upside down, and I've got to sort out all the students'

files ready for my successor.'

He stood up and moved towards the door, but then paused.

'And you really don't mind—about Christmas, I mean? Mother's nerves have been so bad lately that I think it's best if we stick to our original arrangement.'

'Well, I could take over all the cooking . . . ' Petra began, but when he frowned slightly she went on quickly, No, I don't mind at all, darling. Mum and Gran are expecting me, anyway.'

'Good. That's settled, then.'

She stood, quite passive, as he took her in his arms and kissed her lightly on the lips, but then—she wasn't sure why; something inside was impelling her—she put her arms round him, drawing him close to her, her lips opening under his to intensify the kiss. She moved her body against his, and Simon slid one arm down her back, pulling her nearer still. Next moment, though, as a shudder ran through her she jerked back out of his embrace. But he smiled down at her again, apparently quite unaware of her sudden reaction.

'Simon,' she said hesitantly, 'you—you do find me attractive, don't you?'

'Of course I do, darling.' He looked astonished. 'You must know that. But we—well, we've agreed that we prefer to wait, haven't we?'

'Yes, I know,' she murmured softly.

After all, Simon was always in total command of his emotions—she'd known that since childhood. In thin case . . . But that's what you want, isn't it, her inner voice whispered to her, everything calmly ordered, totally under control? Yes, it is, she thought fiercely, and, picking up his gloves, held them out to him.

'I'll see you off.'

She stood outside her gate, waving as, with a last toot of the horn, the Rover's tail-lights disappeared round a bend in the lane that led down to the village. Finally her hand dropped to her side, but she still stood motionless, almost oblivious of the cold evening air, until at last she roused herself, turned—and saw Jared, propping up his own doorway, silhouetted in the light from his kitchen, and watching her.

She gave a violent start but then, ignoring him, went down her path. Her hand was on the doorknob when he called softly, 'Petra.'

Sh

e hesitated, then stopped. 'What?' But she did not glance in his direction.

'Come here.'

'No.'

'Come here.'

He did not raise his voice, but still she found herself walking back up her path and down his. She halted a few paces away from him, even in high heels having to look up at him. The light fell full on her face; his was in deep shadow.

'What do you want, Jared? I'm busy. Those Dundee cakes—'

She stopped abruptly as he reached for her left hand and brought it up to the light.

'That's a pretty bauble. He has better taste than I'd have credited him with.'

'I suppose—on Simon's behalf—I should take that as a compliment,' she replied tightly.

'Not altogether.' He paused. 'Why have you done it, Petra?'

'What? I don't know what you mean.' She wrenched her hand away, as though his fingers were burning her flesh.

'Oh, yes, you do.' His tone was inexorable now. 'You weren't engaged last night—whatever you might have told me to the contrary. We both know that. No—' as she opened her mouth to protest'—don't bother to lie to me. And now here you are, with a brand-new fiance, and a brandnew diamond solitaire. So, I ask myself—why?'

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