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Paperback
First published May 14, 1984

“It was three hundred years old!” She was incredulous. “You dug
up the garden to make a swimming pool?”
He shot her a glance of acute dislike. “You can’t swim in a garden, sweetheart!”
They came to the edge of the lawn, and, hardly stopping in his stride, he picked her up effortlessly and carried her across the gravel, into the stone-paved hall. It was done before she had time to struggle, and she felt how strong and hard his shoulder muscles were under the extraordinary shirt.
“I thought only brides got carried over thresholds,” she said, embarrassed, trying to joke. But his face above her was dark, ruthless, and she was scared stiff now.
“I just . . . changed my address. I didn’t know you were looking for me.”
He stared at her. His eyes moved slowly over her body and came
back to her face. “I reckon you ought to be looking for me.”
She tried to hold that gleaming, penetrating gaze, but the color
flooded brilliantly under her skin, burning darker. Telltale.
“So!” He was laughing loudly, exultantly. He caught her to him and kissed her again.
She was suddenly, furiously angry, not scared. How dare he laugh. How dare he kiss her like this—like a possession!
“Let me go!” She struggled out of his clasp. “Why should I look for you? I don’t need you!”
He stared at her dangerously for a second, then he looked directly at Nick.
“Who's he?”
She put out her hand, and Nick came and stood next to her. She slipped her hand into his, and he felt her fingers shaking.
“This is my friend, Nick Howard, from college.”
Dev’s eyes took in their interlinked fingers, went to their faces and
understood. His eyes went black. His hands curled into fists. His manager got up hastily, pushing between them.
“For God’s sake, Dev, remember where you are. What are you trying to do to the girl?”
She was intensely aware of Dev lounging
beside her, one arm around her shoulders, his fingers twined in her hair, and the other reaching for her hand with his long fingers.
Whenever she was near him he seemed to need to touch her. She
had thought that his obsession with her would have been over by now. But it seemed to be getting worse.
“What you doing here, girl?”
She blushed vividly and folded her arms around her. She was angry with herself for being found like this, annoyed by his unnecessary rudeness. She caught his faint American accent. She was doing no harm. What right did he have to shout at her?
“Get lost, boy!”
Now that they were sitting down they seemed utterly exhausted,
not relaxed. There was an unnatural tension about them, and the
pressure of their joint, silent gaze was unnerving, almost sinister.
She prowled uncomfortably about the room. After today she would not see them again, anyway.
Dev was looking at her in that dark, intense way, and she felt dizzy. Her heart began to race in her throat. He put his arms around
her and drew her close.
There was the same electrifying explosion of sensation that she had felt before. Suddenly, uncontrollably, she was trembling all over. She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. She had never felt like this with anybody before.
“You don’t want to go. Stay with me, little baby,” he said softly.
She tried to pull away, looking at Chris, but he stared back, grave, neutral, and she realized she could expect no help from him now.
They had made some kind of deal, and he had handed her over to Dev.
The panic rose again. “Let me go. Please, I’m not like that. . .”
“Like what?” He held her closer, hard against his body. There was a strange unreality now, like a dream or a nightmare.
“I know,” said Cathy. “I can’t believe you really want my work. I’m not ready for it.”
“l'll take these drawings with me today. I'll have my secretary send a list and a receipt. You're on the point of breakthrough, judging by those two paintings you are working on. I'll have those off you straightaway, when they’re finished.” He named a sum for the two paintings, and Cathy felt faint.
She looked at him directly. “I’m not bothered about Chris.”
He was laughing at her. “You're a liar, Cathy. You like him a lot. I don’t care—as long as you like me more.”