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When he turned and saw her waiting by the door, his brows lifted. ‘Do you wish me to escort you back?’ he enquired sardonically. ‘And if so can I hope for the usual reward of a kiss?’
‘No—on both counts,’ she returned curtly. ‘You have the key and I need to return it.’
‘I shall do that and suggest, perhaps, that it is kept somewhere more secure.’ He paused. ‘Before you go, Dana mia, a word of warning. Mannion is no place for you. You should leave. Set yourself free to find a future elsewhere and begin to live.’
She said thickly, ‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do. What right have you to interfere—warn me, when by rights, someone should have warned me about you? From now on, stay away from me.’
She turned and walked out into the night, forbidding herself to hurry, aware that her legs were shaking under her and terrified of missing her footing in the darkness in those sandals, because there was no way she could explain a sprained ankle.
There were tears pricking at the back of her eyes and tightening her throat, but she refused to cry in case he was close enough behind her to hear her distress.
She retrieved her key from the flower tub by the front door and let herself noiselessly into the darkened flat, going straight to her room.
She wanted to have a shower, to wash away his touch, his taste from her body, but she couldn’t risk waking Aunt Joss.
Nor could any amount of soap and water cleanse the memory of being in his arms—how he’d made her feel and—worst of all—what he’d made her want.
So she simply stripped, bundling her skirt and top to the back of the wardrobe to be disposed of later, removed the rolled up coverlet and crawled into bed.
Where, at last, she allowed herself to cry with shock—with disappointment and, above all, shame, forcing the corner of the pillow into her mouth to stifle the fierce animal-like sobs.
How could she have thought he was Adam? The question he’d asked her for which she still could find no answer.
‘Oh, Adam,’ she whispered in total desolation. ‘It should have been you. So, why wasn’t it? Where were you?’
And eventually, worn out with crying, she fell asleep.
* * *
When the alarm woke her, she was almost grateful for the work that would get her away from the house.
Some of the guests from the party were staying at the Oak and enjoying a leisurely Sunday breakfast, so it was almost lunchtime when Dana had finally finished the rooms.
As she lugged the laundry bags downstairs, she found Mrs Sansom waiting for her, unsmilingly, an envelope in her hand.
‘Your wages,’ she said. ‘Which, under the circumstances, is generous. No proper notice. No consideration at all.’ She sniffed. ‘No doubt this job in London will suit you better.’
‘Job in London?’ Dana repeated, her mind whirling. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘That’s not my concern. I have to find a new assistant from somewhere at my busiest time.’ And Mrs Sansom walked back into her office, closing the door with a bang.
Dana had never ridden home so fast in her life. Entering the flat, she saw her school suitcase standing in the hall.
‘Come in here, Dana.’ Aunt Joss’s voice sounded grimly from the kitchen.
She was sitting at the table, her face set.
‘What’s going on?’ Dana asked breathlessly. ‘Mrs Sansom’s just fired me.’
‘No,’ said her aunt. ‘I rang her and told her you were leaving for London today.’
‘But—but why?’
‘Because Mrs Latimer will no longer permit you to remain at Mannion.’ Miss Grantham’s back was ramrod straight. ‘To her horror, she has received a serious complaint about you from one of her guests. He has told her that you have been pestering him—embarrassing him by making unwanted and unwarranted sexual advances to him.
‘He was reluctant to mention it, but felt your behaviour was placing you at risk, and should be dealt with.
‘So, you are to leave immediately.’
Dana made her way unsteadily to the table and sat down on the opposite chair.
Mannion is no place for you.
His words were beating at her brain. Not just a warning, she realised dazedly, but a threat. And now he was using this monstrous lie to get rid of her. To smash her life and her hopes. Because he could...
Aunt Joss was speaking again. ‘I thought my sister had caused me enough shame. Hoped you might have learned from her example, but I should have known that the apple never falls far from the tree.’ She paused. ‘Have you nothing to say?’
