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189 pages, Hardcover
First published April 1, 1989
'Wrong!' Something seemed to have snapped in him. He had leapt up as he almost shouted the word, and he was striding to and fro, pacing the length of the kitchen like a caged tiger. 'How is it that a man who has established more than one successful business and found it comparatively simple, a man who has brought off more deals than he can count—and decidedly to his own advantage—how is it that that man can so mishandle dealings with one woman?'
'Mishandle? I think you judged the situation very successfully.' She turned round and leaned against the table, watching him. 'You've admitted as much. Now you can go ahead and build .your precious leisure centre.'
He glared dementedly at her, his hair ruffled, his earlier calm vanished. 'That would be all very well—if I still intended the Dower House to become a hotel.'
Ros felt to be getting more and more enmeshed in something she couldn't understand; an Alice Through the Looking Glass conversation where nothing was as it seemed, nothing made sense.
'Have you been drinking?' she said suspiciously.
That made him hit the roof. 'There isn't a drink strong enough to make a man equal to dealing with a woman like you. You're a mass of prejudice. You're as obstinate as a thousand mules. You misinterpret everything I say to you.' He stopped opposite her. 'I ought to thank the gods above that there's a prospect of getting rid of you.' His hands shot through his hair again