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been damaged by fire.’

      ‘Mr Grantley, I don’t care for your tone—–’

      ‘And I don’t care for this whole charade,’ he rasped, his eyes bright with anger. ‘Especially now that I know the woman I’m engaged to is also the woman who’s interfering in my property deal.’

      ‘There are some that would say you have that the wrong way around, Mr Grantley,’ she returned coldly.

      ‘Aaron,’ he instructed tensely. ‘Shevton was on the point of accepting my offer when you came along with a better one,’ he scowled.

      ‘And you counter-offered.’

      ‘And so did you,’ he ground out. ‘How high are you prepared to go?’

      ‘I don’t believe that is any of your business,’ she snapped indignantly.

      ‘What the hell does Hartall Industries want with a house like that and a thousand acres?’ His eyes were narrowed.

      Hartall Industries didn’t want them at all; the offer to buy was a purely personal one. But obviously Aaron Grantley wasn’t aware of that, at least.

      ‘I suppose you plan to turn it in to yet another hotel?’ she scorned.

      His mouth tightened. ‘You have to see that it would be ideal.’

      ‘It could have other uses,’ she dismissed.

      ‘Don’t tell me, as a health-farm for all your over-indulged friends,’ he derided. ‘Or perhaps as a clinic where they can go to “dry out”,’ he added contemptuously. ‘I hear that’s very fashionable nowadays.’

      ‘I don’t have any friends that need to “dry out”,’ Charly snapped at his condescension. ‘Just as it’s none of your business what I do with Shevton House once I’ve bought it.’

      ‘If you buy it,’ he corrected gratingly. ‘Which you won’t,’ he said confidently.

      ‘I wouldn’t put money on it,’ she warned him softly, her grey gaze calm and confident.

      ‘It’s perfect for what I want,’ he announced arrogantly. ‘The building itself, and its location in that little cove is ideal too. You aren’t thinking of going in to the hotel business yourself, are you?’ he mocked.

      ‘No,’ she dismissed with a derisive laugh. ‘I’ve stayed at several of your hotels in the past, Mr—Aaron, and I don’t think I could compete.’ His hotels offered the sort of first-class accommodation James had always insisted on when they travelled abroad. ‘I’m sure Shevton House would make a very good hotel, I just happen to have other plans for it.’

      ‘Shevton isn’t likely to sell to either of us now until he gets top dollar,’ Aaron grimaced.

      She shrugged. ‘We both know it’s worth it.’

      Green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘You must want it very badly.’

      ‘Yes,’ she confirmed flatly.

      He continued to look at her steadily for several seconds, then he shrugged. ‘May the best man—person, win.’

      Her mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I will,’ she assured him.

      Aaron looked amused. ‘That might be difficult, as I intend Shevton House to be mine.’

      ‘We’ll see,’ she said enigmatically.

      ‘You weren’t in for your delivery this morning, so I brought this with me.’ He drew out a jewellery box from his pocket, holding it out to her.

      ‘You must realise now that I don’t want—or need—the bracelet and necklace,’ she told him stiffly.

      ‘It did occur to me,’ he drawled. ‘So I took them back and got you this instead.’

      Charly took the velvet box uncertainly, flicking open the lid. Inside was a gold charm bracelet, but it was the charms attached to it that made her smile, tiny animals all made in minute detail. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she smiled up at Aaron, frowning as she saw the last charm. ‘But what’s this?’ she held up the miniature engagement and wedding rings, the emerald in the former obviously genuine.

      ‘Obligatory, I’m afraid,’ he grimaced. ‘Window dressing for Molly tonight.’

      Charly looked up at him slowly. ‘I thought we had agreed we would make my excuses?’

      ‘Hm,’ he sighed. ‘I’m afraid, as Matt pointed out to me, it would look a bit odd, to Molly, if we broke off our engagement so quickly. Which is why I also purchased this,’ he took a ring-box out of his other pocket.

      ‘Oh no,’ Charly put her hands behind her back, staring with horror at the finger-sized replica of the emerald ring on the charm bracelet, the emerald the size of a penny. ‘I’m not wearing that,’ she shook her head.

      ‘I know we told Molly we weren’t bothering with an engagement, but—–’

      ‘I am not wearing it.’ She repressed a shiver of revulsion as she imagined the gold shackle around her finger. ‘I’m allergic to rings,’ she told him breathlessly.

      ‘To the gold, you mean?’ he frowned.

      ‘No—to wearing them!’ This time she couldn’t hold back the shudder. ‘They’re a licence to imprison.’

      His brows rose. ‘So the marriage wasn’t so convenient after all,’ he drawled.

      She looked at him sharply. ‘I don’t wish to talk about my marriage.’

      ‘There seems to be quite a few things you refuse to talk about,’ Aaron taunted.

      ‘Have I tried to pry into your private life?’ Her eyes shone silver. ‘Have I asked even one question?’

      ‘You asked if I were married,’ he reminded.

      She sighed. ‘In the circumstances I would have thought you would be as averse to the thought of my wearing your ring as I am,’ she derided.

      ‘But I know it’s only temporary.’

      ‘It’s also unnecessary. Thank you, but no thank you,’ she said firmly. ‘And are you absolutely sure you can’t get me out of dinner this evening?’ she frowned. ‘I’d really rather not go.’

      ‘Matt seemed to think it was necessary.’ He pocketed the ring-box.

      She chewed on her inner lip. ‘Very well then—if I have no choice.’

      ‘My ego has taken a severe beating since I met you,’ Aaron drawled dryly.

      ‘I don’t think it’s going to do it much harm,’ Charly derided.

      ‘You aren’t exactly lacking in self-confidence yourself, you know,’ he pointed out softly.

      Perhaps if he had met her a year ago he would have thought differently. Six years of marriage to a man as strong-willed as James had stripped her of most of the poise and confidence that had been imbued in to her at the finishing-school she had attended in Switzerland. When a man was as assured and arrogant as James had been something had to give in a marriage, and for the sake of peace it had always been Charly. It would never happen to her again, she was her own woman now, and intended to remain that way.

      ‘I’m Rocharlle Allenby-Hart, remember?’ she drawled. ‘With the gold spoon in my mouth.’

      He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Maybe that gold becomes a little heavy to carry at times,’ he murmured.

      She wasn’t sure if he meant literally or figuratively—whichever one he was right! ‘I can live with it,’ she mocked.

      ‘Who couldn’t?’ he derided. ‘And if Matt isn’t the man in your life then who is?’

      She avoided his probing

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