LITMIR.BIZ

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side and leaving her dangling helplessly as he brought his own horse under control and then to a complete halt.

      Alanna began to struggle. She said breathlessly, ‘Let go of me, damn you. Put me down.’

      ‘With pleasure,’ he returned curtly and dropped her, letting her land on her backside on a tussock of coarse grass with a thud that seemed to jar every bone in her body.

      Dolly had slowed too, and was trotting in bewildered circles, apparently realising that the unexpected excitement was over.

      Zandor patted his horse’s neck, murmuring something soothing in a language Alanna did not recognise, then dismounted looping his reins round the branch of a small stunted tree, then walked over to Dolly, whistling softly.

      At first she shied away, then as he waited, still whistling the same quiet tune, she dropped her head and came to him, allowing him to walk her back and tether her near the bay.

      Meanwhile, Alanna, her breathing still flurried, had scrambled ungracefully to her feet, swearing under her breath, as she resisted the need to rub her aching rear.

      Zandor observed her, tight-lipped. He said icily, ‘Next time you wish to risk your neck, try jumping off a tall building. Dolly may be past her best, but she doesn’t deserve to end her days with a broken leg or worse.’

      He added, ‘I understood you could ride. Don’t you know better than to gallop headlong over unknown country?

      ‘Especially as there’s marshy ground ahead? And you aren’t wearing a hat.’

      The honest answer was ‘Yes, of course I do.’

      But Alanna didn’t return it. Instead, she lifted a defiant chin. ‘I had a hat but I left it at the roadside. What are you doing here?’

      ‘I came to find you.’ He paused. ‘I’m aware you were expecting my cousin, but he will not be joining you after all.’

      ‘How did you know that?’ she asked sharply.

      ‘I was in the stableyard when he was talking to Jacko. So, too, was our grandmother, who had other commissions for him after his visit to the Home Farm.’ He gave her a thin smile. ‘So I decided to save you a long, futile wait in the sun.’

      Alanna bit her lip. ‘Please don’t expect me to be grateful.’

      ‘I don’t.’ Zandor shrugged. ‘Besides I also thought it would be a golden opportunity for us to have that talk I promised.’

      ‘We have nothing to talk about.’

      He said quietly, ‘There, once again, we must differ.’ His gaze was steady, the silver eyes intent, making her aware that her sweater had slipped off during that mad, ludicrous dash and that her sweat-dampened shirt was clinging revealingly to her body, emphasising the swell of her rounded breasts. An additional humiliation, she realised angrily.

      ‘Let us go back to the first time you ran away from me,’ Zandor went on. ‘When I woke up to find you gone without a word—then or later.’

      He paused. ‘What the hell did I do to warrant that?

      Because I really need to know.’

      Her throat was dry. ‘I suppose your usual conquests hang around begging for more. Let’s just say I turned out to be the exception to the rule.’

      He said harshly, ‘And that’s a cheap retort which insults us both.’

      ‘We had a one night stand.’ It was her turn to shrug, struggling to keep her voice casual. ‘No big deal.’

      ‘Again, I don’t agree.’ His voice took on a purr of intimacy. ‘Shall I go through my reasons?’

      ‘No!’ In spite of herself, the negation seemed to explode from her and she hastily tempered it with, ‘Thank you.’ She spread her hands. ‘It—it was all a long time ago.’

      ‘To me, it still seems like yesterday.’

      ‘Then that’s your problem.’ She swallowed. ‘Why can’t you let the past stay exactly that instead of raking over old mistakes?’

      She added defensively, ‘After all, it’s not going to make the slightest difference—to either of us.’

      He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He said, ‘Then let us turn our attention to the future and allow me to offer you a word of warning.’ He paused. ‘You and Gerard?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s never going to happen. You would be well advised to walk away.’

      The obvious and truthful response was ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ she thought, stiffening. But that was her decision, not his. And, anyway, what right did he have to interfere—either to warn or advise?

      She said coolly, ‘My relationship with Gerard is a private matter for us alone.’

      ‘Not any longer,’ he said, his mouth twisting. ‘And certainly not in this family. They invented the words “public domain”.’

      ‘Then let me tell you they’ve all been very kind and—welcoming.’

      ‘Does that “all” include Aunt Meg and Aunt Caroline?’ He raised an ironic eyebrow. ‘Or my grandmother, for that matter?’

      Her hesitation was fractional. ‘She’s been—charming.’

      ‘Why not? She has bundles of it when she chooses. She sometimes even uses it on me. But that makes no difference to her long-term plans for Gerard, which do not, my lovely one, include you, I can promise you.’

      ‘Please don’t call me that,’ she said tautly. ‘And Gerard’s future is his own to decide and he may consider I have a role to play in it.’

      ‘Then why isn’t he here with you now, finding some quiet, sheltered place and getting you out of your clothes?’

      As she stared at him, shocked, he added, ‘Or is that not yet part of the agenda?’

      Alanna threw back her head. She said chokingly, ‘How—how dare you? That’s none of your business.’

      ‘But it’s very much my concern.’ Zandor’s voice slowed to a drawl. ‘Having initiated you into the pleasures of physical passion, my sweet, I wouldn’t wish you to feel—short-changed in any way.’

      Alanna pressed her hands to her burning face. ‘I don’t,’ she said defiantly. ‘In any way.’

      Which, she told herself, was no more than the truth—if not in the way he expected.

      She added, ‘I trust you don’t want details.’

      He was unfazed. ‘Thank you but I think I prefer my memories.’

      He let that sink in. Sting.

      ‘So Niamh is charming and Gerard attentive,’ he went on musingly. ‘But don’t let that fool you. If you’re also thinking long term, Gerard can’t afford to get married.’

      ‘You’re his employer,’ she flashed. ‘Perhaps you should pay him more.’

      ‘Perhaps I would,’ he said, ‘if I was more convinced about his commitment to Bazaar Vert.’

      He paused. ‘However, his present salary already allows him a very pleasant flat in Chiswick, his car, and an expensive boat currently moored at Chichester, plus his New Year skiing trips, and his summer vacations in the Caribbean, as I’m sure you’re fully aware,’ he added silkily. ‘All of which hardly puts him on the breadline.’

      Alanna bit her lip. ‘And as he’s also aware, I’m not exactly on the breadline myself,’ she mentioned crisply.

      ‘No, you work in publishing, for a company called Hawkseye,’ he said slowly. ‘And not as an assistant in a bookshop as I once thought.’

      ‘Does it matter? They’re both perfectly respectable occupations.’

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