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kept going longer.’

      ‘Yes, I can imagine that you did,’ she said, dazed. ‘But why—?’

      ‘Look at the other paper. It’ll tell you.’

      The other paper was a deed of gift, making over the cottage to herself.

      ‘I don’t understand this,’ she murmured.

      ‘Surely it’s clear enough? The cottage is yours. I bought it and now it’s yours.’

      She should have felt an uprush of gratitude, but there was only the old, uneasy feeling of a net closing about her. He hadn’t done this for her sake, but for reasons of his own.

      ‘But why are you giving it to me?’ she asked.

      His manner became even more impatient.

      ‘What does it matter why? The point is, it’s yours. You won’t have to move out now. And since I paid over the odds you’ll have plenty left when the debts are cleared. It’s a very good deal for you.’

      ‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ she said in a voice that was suddenly hard. ‘And you really did pay over the odds, I can see.’

      ‘Sometimes you have to, if it’s the only way to get what you want.’

      ‘I understand that,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s really impressive, the way you never let anyone get the better of you. Not anybody. Ever.’

      Something in her manner finally got through to him. He turned, regarding her with a puzzled frown.

      ‘Evie, don’t you understand? The cottage is yours. Yours to keep. For ever. It’s what you wanted. Don’t you have anything to say to me?’

      She raised smouldering eyes to him.

      ‘Yes,’ she said fiercely, ‘I do have something to say to you. I shall never forgive you for this as long as I live.’

      Chapter Seven

      JUSTIN stared at her. ‘Did I hear that properly?’

      ‘I think you did. What were you expecting? Gratitude? Well, maybe I’d be grateful if I didn’t know the real reason behind this.’

      His voice was hard. ‘And you think the reason is what?’

      ‘Control. Acquisition. I’m useful to you, because of Mark, and when something’s useful you have to make sure it can’t escape, right? So you buy it.’

      He went pale. ‘Is that what you think? That I’m trying to buy you?’

      ‘What else? The perfect takeover bid, mounted under perfect conditions—the important one being secrecy so that the object of acquisition doesn’t even know about it until it’s too late.’

      ‘Object of acquisition!’ For pity’s sake, listen to yourself! You’re talking nonsense.’

      ‘I don’t think so. You’ve done a perfect job, behind my back, only I wasn’t supposed to see the strings being pulled.’

      ‘I tried to give you something,’ he shouted. ‘Something I thought you wanted. You’ve told me how much you love this place.’

      ‘I was talking generally, not angling for a handout.’

      ‘Yesterday you were crying about it.’

      ‘Don’t remind me about yesterday,’ she said dangerously.

      The way he’d kissed her as an assertion of power rankled with her still, and drove her to lash him cruelly. She would think about it later. For now she only knew that the moment she had seen him her heart had felt a disturbance that was mysteriously linked to anger.

      ‘The place is yours now,’ he snapped. ‘Do what you damned well like with it.’

      ‘I can’t. This isn’t right. It mustn’t happen.’

      ‘You can’t stop it. The sale’s gone through.’

      ‘I don’t see how you can have done it in one day. All that money takes time.’

      His shrug was a complete answer. What was a huge amount to her was a pittance to him. He’d probably handed over cash.

      ‘I can’t accept the cottage as a gift,’ she said. ‘Nor can I take the extra money. As soon as it’s paid to the executor, and he’s cleared the debts, I’ll tell him to return you the balance.’

      ‘That’s ridiculous,’ he shouted. ‘Where’s your common sense?’

      ‘Obviously I don’t have any. But I do have some self-respect, enough not to take charity from you.’

      She heard his sharp intake of breath, and the look on his face was very ugly. She held out the papers and he snatched them.

      ‘Go to hell,’ he said with soft venom. ‘Go there and stay there.’

      Both tense with anger, neither noticed a figure looking down at them from the stairs, or heard the soft noise as he scuttled back to bed.

      For a moment it seemed that Justin expected her to yield. When she didn’t he simply walked out of the room, and a moment later she heard his car starting up. She sank down on the stairs, trembling violently.

      She wondered what had come over her to have rejected his gift. To keep the cottage had been her heart’s desire, and now it was hers, if she would only bend her pride a little.

      But no power on earth could make her bend it for this man. His curt, businesslike tone as he’d outlined his methods, the way he’d crushed all opposition, the easy way he tossed money around, told her all she needed to know about his motives.

      And it was all the worse because a corner of her heart had started to warm to him. If he’d done this in friendship she might have been tempted to accept. But Justin Dane didn’t ‘do’ friendship.

      She went back to her room and lay down, not expecting to sleep. But the fight had left her drained, and she dozed uneasily. When she awoke the sun was high, but Justin’s car had not returned.

      Looking out, she saw Mark sitting far out on the rocks. She dressed and hared out after him, ready with the words of reproach for slipping away alone. But they died on her lips when he raised his eyes and she saw the unhappiness in his face. Just like at the start, she remembered.

      ‘Hallo,’ she said, speaking cheerfully. ‘You’re out early. Anything interesting in the pool?’

      ‘Some crabs. Nothing much. I just wanted to think a bit.’

      ‘Well, it’s a good place for it. Did you come up with anything?’

      He shook his head. ‘Thinking doesn’t really help,’ he said wistfully. ‘It doesn’t change anything.’

      He was too young to believe that, she thought. Unable to find any words of wisdom she said, ‘It’s easier to think on a full stomach. Breakfast?’

      He nodded. ‘Then can we come back?’

      ‘Yes, we’ll spend the day here.’

      She waited for him to ask if his father had returned, but he said nothing.

      After breakfast they went back to the beach and explored the rock pools until Mark said, ‘Here’s Dad.’

      Justin was coming across the sand towards them. He smiled at Mark, and then in Evie’s general direction.

      Mark greeted his father kindly but without eagerness. Nor did he ask about the surprise Justin had promised. She recalled his sadness of that morning and guessed that it was still there, suppressed beneath a polite smile.

      It was like that for the rest of the day. On the surface all was calm. But beneath were tensions, only just held in check. In the evening Justin insisted on taking them out to a restaurant.

      It

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