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‘That would be as pointless as you resenting me for being related to the person who sold it to you.’
‘Touché.’ He saluted her with a finger to the centre of his broad temple.
‘When you used to stay here, which was your room?’ asked Petra, looking up at the wall from which the creeper had already been pruned ruthlessly back to first-floor level.
‘The upstairs has changed around since I was here—there were never any en suite bathrooms for a start—but Kate and I used to share a corner room where that gable looks out over the back, one with a trapdoor to the attic.’
‘Sam’s room,’ said Scott, saving her from the frisson it would have caused her to know that it was now his.
‘This house has an attic?’ Petra said. ‘Cool! What’s up there?’
Anya could feel the blood throb guiltily in her veins. She had tried to push Kate’s problem to the back of her mind, but every now and then it loomed oppressively large in her thoughts. Scott had provided her with both alibi and opportunity when he had invited her to tutor Petra, but the moment Anya moved to act on her cousin’s request she would be crossing an invisible line, violating a code of ethics that was integral to her self-respect.
‘A lot of dirt, cobwebs and boring old furniture, I expect,’ Scott replied. ‘That’s all that seemed to be up there when I did my first tour of inspection and I never bothered to have it cleaned out. I suppose the builders added a bit of extra debris of their own.’
A series of high-pitched squeals and boisterous splashing rose from the other side of the house and Petra heaved a huge, martyred sigh.
‘It sounds as if Sam and her friends are having a good time in the pool. Why don’t you go around and join them?’ suggested Scott.
She had leaped to her feet even before he’d finished his sentence, but then she hovered briefly, looking at Anya.
‘But what about Miss Adams?’
He smiled and a small shiver went up Anya’s spine. ‘I’ll look after Miss Adams.’
Petra’s pang of conscience evaporated on the instant. ‘OK. Thanks, Dad. See ya!’
‘See you tomorrow, Petra. And don’t forget to read that biology chapter!’ Anya called after her.
‘I won’t!’
‘Will she?’ asked Scott settling back. ‘Perhaps accidentally on purpose?’
Anya shook her head. ‘She’s been pretty good. Once she sets her mind to something she does it. She’s very quick on the uptake.’
Scott’s mouth adopted a wry twist. ‘I’ve noticed.’ He watched his daughter round the corner of the house. ‘She’s incredibly sophisticated in some ways and terrifyingly naive in others. I just don’t get why she needs all that defensive bravado—the black clothes, the hair, the ears, the nose, for God’s sake. I suppose I should be grateful that she isn’t sporting a tongue-stud and tattoo!’
He turned his head and glimpsed the tail end of Anya’s secret smile. ‘What?’
She shook her head, starting to gather up the books that were scattered on the grass. ‘Nothing.’
Her blatant nonchalance made his eyes narrow. ‘Yes, it is. You’re wearing that damned Mona Lisa look. You know something that I don’t. What is it?’
‘Mona Lisa?’ Anya murmured, her grey eyes wide.
His hand closed around her arm as she reached for a folder, his expression dangerously playful. She had learned to beware that devilish look. ‘That enigmatic smile that tiptoes around your mouth when you think you have me at a disadvantage. What aren’t you telling me that I ought to know?’
‘I really couldn’t say—’ she began demurely, and then squeaked as he tumbled her backwards onto the grass, pinning her wrists on either side of her head.
‘Are you ticklish, Miss Adams?’
A horrified giggle of nervous anticipation bubbled up in her throat as she looked up into his teasing face. ‘No!’
He had lowered his hard body to press against her side, and registered her ripple of tension at his question.
‘I think you’re lying,’ he murmured, his eyes insufferably smug. He slowly drew her wrists above her head, gathering them into one of his large hands. The other he allowed to trickle lightly down her ribs. ‘Shall we test my theory?’
Anya bit back another betraying giggle. ‘This is highly inappropriate behaviour,’ she said sternly, as he stilled her squirming by sliding a heavy calf across her ankles.
