been nice to have been able to freshen up a little first,' she muttered.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped, turning to her with a smile. 'Go on then, do whatever it is you have to. I'll wait.'
Flashing him a grateful look she pulled out a comb, compact and lipstick and repaired her makeup as best she could whilst he watched with lazy amusement.
'I liked you better the way you were before,' he observed. 'All rosy and tousled with sleep—very sexy, like a newly-opened flower.' He leaned over to touch her cheek, then bent his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. She caught her breath a little and lifted her hand to his, but he drew back, misinterpreting her action.
'Ah—sorry. I was forgetting your condition for accepting this job.'
She looked at him. 'What condition?'
'Surely you can't have forgotten it, Katy?' His eyes were enigmatic. 'Our relationship is to remain purely professional—remember?'
She looked away, biting her lip. 'Of course— but—'
He leaned towards her again, his eyes twinkling. 'Of course we could always put it down to gratitude. After all, I did come to your rescue, didn't I?'
She stiffened. He was laughing at her again. 'Isn't it time we were going?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'There's no hurry. You'll find life much more leisurely up here in Yorkshire, that's one of the nice things about it.' He smiled at her. 'What was it your future stepmother said— that we'd discover a great deal about one another?
I'd like that, Katy—I'd like to know what there is under all that fierce independence. Somehow I suspect that you're really just a frightened little girl, aren't you?'
'Save the psychoanalysis for your patients!' she said hotly, acutely embarrassed by the scrutiny of his dark eyes.
He straightened his back and turned his eyes to the road again, switching on the engine and urging the car forward. He neither spoke nor glanced at her again and she sank back in her seat, swamped by dismay and disappointment. Why could she never carry off a situation like this without appearing rude and gauche? And was that really the way he saw her—'A frightened little girl'? Had his kiss merely been intended to reassure her—a boost to her confidence? Now, because of her fatally hasty tongue, she might never know.
CHAPTER SIX
As Sean had said, the village of Belldon Cross began at the foot of the hill and spread out around the ankles of the moor like a lace frill on the hem of a petticoat. Katy watched with delight as the stark beauty of the moor gave way to blossoming hawthorn and broom, and the frothy freshness of lilac and apple trees in cottage gardens. The landscape softened as the afternoon sun turned the grey stone of the cottage walls to silver, and ahead of them she glimpsed the glimmer of water through the trees.
The road dipped on, ending at the bottom in a double bend, crowned by an old stone bridge that crossed the river. On the far bank stood a low L-shaped house, built of the same stone as the cottages in the village. It had mullioned windows and a moss-covered roof. Before it, a garden rambled down to the riverbank while to its rear the moor rose steeply, divided by drystone walls. In the distance she could see sheep grazing on the rough, gorse-spangled grass. She looked enquiringly at Sean who nodded.
'Yes, that's it—Bridge House. Rather nice, isn't it?'
'Oh, it's beautiful!'
They crossed the little bridge where fast-flowing water bubbled over smooth stones and for a moment lost sight of the house as it disappeared behind a screen of tall trees. Then Sean nosed the car in through a pair of white gates on to a wide gravelled drive lined with rhododendron bushes. As they neared the house the bushes gave on to a small clearing of grass in the centre of which was a huge cedar tree. From the lowest branch hung a swing on which a small, dark-haired boy was sitting. As soon as he saw the car he jumped up and ran towards them, shouting and waving his arms
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped, turning to her with a smile. 'Go on then, do whatever it is you have to. I'll wait.'
Flashing him a grateful look she pulled out a comb, compact and lipstick and repaired her makeup as best she could whilst he watched with lazy amusement.
'I liked you better the way you were before,' he observed. 'All rosy and tousled with sleep—very sexy, like a newly-opened flower.' He leaned over to touch her cheek, then bent his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. She caught her breath a little and lifted her hand to his, but he drew back, misinterpreting her action.
'Ah—sorry. I was forgetting your condition for accepting this job.'
She looked at him. 'What condition?'
'Surely you can't have forgotten it, Katy?' His eyes were enigmatic. 'Our relationship is to remain purely professional—remember?'
She looked away, biting her lip. 'Of course— but—'
He leaned towards her again, his eyes twinkling. 'Of course we could always put it down to gratitude. After all, I did come to your rescue, didn't I?'
She stiffened. He was laughing at her again. 'Isn't it time we were going?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'There's no hurry. You'll find life much more leisurely up here in Yorkshire, that's one of the nice things about it.' He smiled at her. 'What was it your future stepmother said— that we'd discover a great deal about one another?
I'd like that, Katy—I'd like to know what there is under all that fierce independence. Somehow I suspect that you're really just a frightened little girl, aren't you?'
'Save the psychoanalysis for your patients!' she said hotly, acutely embarrassed by the scrutiny of his dark eyes.
He straightened his back and turned his eyes to the road again, switching on the engine and urging the car forward. He neither spoke nor glanced at her again and she sank back in her seat, swamped by dismay and disappointment. Why could she never carry off a situation like this without appearing rude and gauche? And was that really the way he saw her—'A frightened little girl'? Had his kiss merely been intended to reassure her—a boost to her confidence? Now, because of her fatally hasty tongue, she might never know.
CHAPTER SIX
As Sean had said, the village of Belldon Cross began at the foot of the hill and spread out around the ankles of the moor like a lace frill on the hem of a petticoat. Katy watched with delight as the stark beauty of the moor gave way to blossoming hawthorn and broom, and the frothy freshness of lilac and apple trees in cottage gardens. The landscape softened as the afternoon sun turned the grey stone of the cottage walls to silver, and ahead of them she glimpsed the glimmer of water through the trees.
The road dipped on, ending at the bottom in a double bend, crowned by an old stone bridge that crossed the river. On the far bank stood a low L-shaped house, built of the same stone as the cottages in the village. It had mullioned windows and a moss-covered roof. Before it, a garden rambled down to the riverbank while to its rear the moor rose steeply, divided by drystone walls. In the distance she could see sheep grazing on the rough, gorse-spangled grass. She looked enquiringly at Sean who nodded.
'Yes, that's it—Bridge House. Rather nice, isn't it?'
'Oh, it's beautiful!'
They crossed the little bridge where fast-flowing water bubbled over smooth stones and for a moment lost sight of the house as it disappeared behind a screen of tall trees. Then Sean nosed the car in through a pair of white gates on to a wide gravelled drive lined with rhododendron bushes. As they neared the house the bushes gave on to a small clearing of grass in the centre of which was a huge cedar tree. From the lowest branch hung a swing on which a small, dark-haired boy was sitting. As soon as he saw the car he jumped up and ran towards them, shouting and waving his arms
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