LITMIR.BIZ

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only in his late thirties, and was six feet four at least, she guessed, broad-shouldered and well-built, and dressed formally in a dark suit and tie. His black hair was fashionably cut, his strong, bold features dominated by the most all-seeing dark eyes Ria had ever seen in her life. My goodness, she thought; there wouldn’t be any problem with discipline in this school! Would anyone like to argue with Mr Jasper Trent? And, when he spoke, his crisp, authoritative voice answered that question!

      ‘Miss Davidson? Please come in and sit down,’ he said, the rather solemn features breaking into a brief smile as he came towards Ria. He held out his hand in greeting, clasping hers tightly. Then, ‘Thank you, Helen.’

      ‘Thank you, Mr Trent,’ Helen said deferentially as she went out, closing the door softly behind her.

      Trying hard to quell the anxious fluttering of her heart, Ria sat down on the large leather swivel chair she was offered, while Mr Trent took his own place behind the desk opposite and studied the latest candidate for the post on offer, his unblinking gaze holding Ria almost spellbound.

      Two immediate thoughts arose in his mind as he continued looking at her—the first being one of undeniable enchantment, very closely followed by one of intense irritation. This woman was not at all what he had expected, and he frowned, glancing down at the papers in front of him.

      ‘You will forgive me for beginning by mentioning your age, Miss Davidson,’ he said coolly, ‘but I understood you to be…um…fifty-five years old.’ He paused. ‘Which, clearly, you are not.’

      Ria couldn’t help smiling—they’d both got something wrong this morning. ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘I am twenty-five.’

      ‘Well, that’s something we’ve cleared up straight away,’ Mr Trent said flatly and, noting the somewhat discouraging expression on his handsome features, Ria automatically held on to the arms of her chair to stop her hands from shaking. She’d always loathed interviews—and today’s was no exception. Someone might have warned her what—who—to expect! Why had she thought he’d be a kind, fatherly person with grey hair and glasses and a body showing signs of wear and tear?

      ‘So,’ he went on, ‘Miss Davidson is—twenty-five—and according to the CV which was e-mailed through to me yesterday, you’re a graduate in English, with three years’ teaching experience, together with supply work and some private tutoring…?’

      ‘Correct,’ Ria said.

      ‘And you do realize that—if we find each other suitable—the position is only until the end of the present school year?’ Mr Trent went on, his mind rushing ahead as usual. It might have been for longer than that if she proved to be the perfect applicant, he thought, but all his instincts told him that he shouldn’t consider the possibility. Miss Ria Davidson was not only young, she was exquisite. Immaculately turned out in a cream linen suit, her rich auburn hair was coiled up on top and held with a tortoiseshell clip, while her fine buttermilk skin was flawless, her large hazel eyes set in whites of pure snow. Just the sort of woman he did not want on the premises, he told himself emphatically. For all sorts of reasons. He silently cursed the incompetence of the agency which had got her details wrong.

      ‘I do realize that,’ Ria said in answer to his question. ‘And it fits my own plans exactly…if we find each other suitable,’ she amended solemnly.

      He raised one eyebrow. ‘Am I allowed to know what your plans are?’ he asked, and Ria shrugged.

      ‘Oh, they aren’t particularly original, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I have been enmeshed with school life from the age of four, and I suddenly feel the need to escape. So—’ she paused ‘—in September I intend to travel to as many unusual destinations as I can. I have saved up enough to fund myself for about a year, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find teaching work along the way—if I get desperate.’ She paused. ‘I don’t want to leave it any longer or I’ll lose my nerve.’

      ‘Will you go alone?’ Mr Trent enquired, his gaze flickering briefly at her long slender legs crossed neatly there in front of him.

      ‘Yes, because unfortunately none of my friends can afford to have the time off,’ Ria said, ‘so I shall have to pluck up my courage. Anyway,’ she added, ‘I expect to meet plenty of ordinary people like me, doing the same thing.’

      Several moments passed, during which he appeared to be deep in thought, before he spoke again.

      ‘You would be required to teach the younger boys,’ he said, ‘and to complete the course already set for them. The Head of Department—Tim Robbinson—would give you full support, naturally.’

      Looking back at him steadily, Ria had the impression that the job was as good as hers…if she wanted it. And she couldn’t deny that she did want it!

      ‘If our salary scale was not acceptable, I imagine that you wouldn’t have come here today,’ he said, glancing down and moving some papers on his desk, and Ria was painfully aware of his strong brown hands and long sensitive fingers.

      ‘No—I mean, yes—your terms are…acceptable,’ she said quickly.

      There was another long pause, then, ‘So…then I’m happy to offer you the post, Miss Davidson,’ he said slowly, putting down the pen he’d been holding and leaning back in his chair. ‘And, if you accept, I am sure you have some questions of your own.’

      Ria felt a rush of exhilaration. She’d made it! And, even if it was only to be a very temporary position, it didn’t alter the fact that she’d succeeded. Succeeded in convincing the head of this school that she was worth paying. For the first time during their meeting, Ria felt able to relax and give him the benefit of one of her dazzling smiles.

      ‘Thank you—and I am pleased to agree,’ she said lightly, adding, ‘The agency gave me one of your brochures, so I don’t think I need to ask you anything—at the moment,’ she added slowly. Now that she was coming here, she thought, she’d take more time to really study the literature regarding this wellestablished place.

      He stood up then, obviously relieved that the matter was settled. ‘I’d better show you your accommodation,’ he said. ‘The caretaker has been making sure it’s up to scratch.’

      The main thing which had attracted Ria to the post was the fact that a room went with the job, because at the moment she had nowhere of her own in which to live. The lease on the flat she’d shared with her friend Sara had expired, and Sara was about to be married in any case. So, for the moment, the only valid address which Ria had was the parental family home in north London and, although she had her own space there if she needed it, it had never seemed like home. Why should it? She’d spent so little time there. And now, with Diana, her father’s second wife, in control, it seemed less like home than ever.

      Mr Trent opened the door for her to go in front of him, then they left the room and walked side by side along the corridor. He glanced down at her, noting the way that the sun’s rays were adding golden lights to the glossiness of her hair.

      ‘The place is obviously very quiet when the kids are away,’ he remarked, trying to ignore the physical sensations rippling through his body at her closeness. ‘But I try to make the most of it because a lot of noise goes with the job, I’m afraid. This time next week it’ll be a very different matter.’ He steered her around a corner at the far end of the corridor and they began mounting a wide stone staircase.

      ‘I think anyone who’s been in teaching, even for five minutes, would be impervious to noise and mayhem,’ she said. She paused. ‘But I’ve never worked at an all-boys boarding school before, so maybe I will have to ask for some advice now and then.’ She looked up to find him staring down at her thoughtfully, and Ria coloured up immediately. She hoped that didn’t make her sound pathetic. She swallowed. ‘But I’m sure I’ll soon fit in…’ she added.

      He nodded briefly. ‘Everyone needs advice from time to time,’ he said.

      No more was said, and in a moment or two he unlocked a door at the end of the row

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