Fate forced Lani St.

John to an impossible choice when her

adolescent dreams became a wrenching reality. For Jake
Pendragon, the brilliant concert pianist she had loved from
afar for years, re-entered her life with an undeniable,
devasting attraction. But desire was both a delight and
a torment – for the beautiful rival he was rumoured to be
involved with was none other than Lani’s own mother!

**

'Lani,' Jake said thickly, releasing her mouth to take

a laboured breath, and then with a supreme effort
he put his hand against the bole of the tree and
pushed himself away from her. . .
'I did not mean this to happen,' he said at last,
and Lani lifted her shoulders, as if his words had
confirmed her expectations. 'I wanted to see you-
but that was all, I did not intend to touch you. But
you looked so indignant, and comforting you
seemed such an innocent thing to do. lnnocent!'He
repeated the word savagely. 'I must have been out
of my mind!'

CHAPTER ONE

LANI ST JOHN was fourteen years old when she first

saw Jake Pendragon.

She was holidaying with her parents. It was one

of the few occasions when her mother and father
were able to get away together, and instead of flying
off to some exotic destination, they had driven
south and west, into Cornwall.

Lani could never remember a time when holi-

daying with her parents had not proved something
of an emotional ordeal. They were both so different,
the one so volatile, the other unwilling to comprom-
ise over the smallest detail, and out of their normal
environment, they generally fought like cat and
dog.

Theirs had been an unlikely combination at best.

Clare, Lani's mother, was a soprano, with an inter-
national reputation, while her father was a solicitor,
dry and prosaic. Lani had never been able to under-
stand the swift and passionate infatuation which
had brought them together, and more than fourteen
years on, their marriage was shaky in the extreme.
This holiday, Lani learned in later years, had be en
a last-ditch attempt to patch up their differences, to
iron over the cracks in their relationship, and try to
recapture the magic they had lost. It hadn't worked.
As soon as her mother had discovered that one of
the reasons her father had brought them to Corn-
wall was to enable him to visit a wealthy client, she
had taken off back to London, leaving Lani to pacify
her father as best she could.

Mount's Bay, even in April, was not the warmest

place in the world, and Lani's first sight of Tre-
morna Point was with an iron-grey sea leaping
greedily about the headland, and an icy wind
rattling the windows of Mrs Worth's castle.

Of course it wasn't really a castle. It only looked

that way to Lani's imaginative eyes, but sitting
beside her father in the car they had had to hire that
morning-her mother had taken their car-she
knew a sudden uplift to her spirits. Even her father
glanced her way in mutual understanding, the
morose expression he had worn since her mother's
departure vanishing beneath a smile of shared con-
spiracy.

The Worth residence stood on Tremorna Point,

apparently oblivious to the elements. It had a slop-
ing gabled roof, with scalloped crenellations that
gave it its medieval appearance, and narrow shut-
tered windows below overhanging eaves. It was not
a particularly attractive building. Its stone-built
facade gave it a rather grim appearance-an im-
pression that was heightened by the reflective light
from a wild and stormy sea.

When her father brought the hire car to a halt

below the steps that led up to its pillared front
porch, Lani thrust open her door and got out with-
out waiting for his permission. Curiosity, and her
vivid imagination, were already painting pictures of
the occupants of the house, and she half expected
so me dour manservant to open the door and bid
them enter in deep sepulchral tones.

The reality proved to be very different. In fact, the

door did open as Roger St John was getting out of
the car to join his daughter, but Lani didn't think the
young man who emerged could be anyone's butler.
Butlers didn't wear collarless sweat-shirts and tight-
fitting jeans that made her own designer cords look
quite respectable; nor did they ha ve untidy dark
ha ir that needed cutting, or adopt that air of amused
condescension when they found someone staring at
them. Her own cheeks turned quite pink when he
returned her appraising stare, and she was glad
when her father came between them and went to
meet the young man.

'Mrs Worth is expecting me,' he said, giving Lani

time to recover herself. 'My name's St John. Roger
St John. Mrs Worth's solicitor?'

'Oh, yes. Mr St John.' The young man held out

his hand and Lani's father shook it. 'The old lady
did say something about a solicitor. I remember
now. Won't you come in? I'll let her know you're
here.'

Turning, he went back into the house, and Lani's

father beckoned for her to join him. 'Come on,' he
said, 'stop day-dreaming. At least it sounds as if l' m
going to get to see her.'

Lani hurried to catch up with him, and as his arm

came across her shoulders, she said perplexedly:
'Have you tried to see Mrs Worth before?'

'Oh, yes.' Roger St John nodded. 'Several times.

Unfortunately, Mrs Worth can afford to be elusive,

and I'm afraid she doesn't have a great de al of
interest in the handling of her estate.'

'Is she very rich?' asked Lani, as they passed

beneath a carved lintel and entered a gloomy car-
peted hall. Her father smiled.

'Very rich,' he agreed, looking speculative-

ly around him. 'You wouldn't think it t? look at
this place, but I can assure you, our chent does
not have to worry about providing for her old
age.'

Lani glanced about with interest. The hall was not

particularly wide at this point, but it seemed to
broaden out beyond the curve of the stairs, and she
could see potted plants and hanging creepers, as if
that latter half of the hall formed some kind of
conservatory. To left and right of them four darkly
panelled doors, two on each side, apparently gave
access to the living rooms of the house, but all of
them were closed, and Lani wondered where the
young man had gone.

Her curiosity was satisfied a few moments later

when he appeared on the balcony at the top of the
stairs and invited .her father to come up. 'The old
lady is waiting for you, Mr St John,' he said,
although his lips twisted as he said it, as if his words
were not exactly the truth. However, Lani's father
was only too eager to grasp any opportunity, and
bidding her to accompany him, he started up the
staircase.

The stairs began just beyond the second door on

the left-hand side of the hall. They mounted three
steps before taking a right turn, then ran the rest of
the way up the side of the hall. At the top of the
stairs a long landing, railed above the arch of the
hall below, gave on to a long corridor with several
doors and passages leading from it, and Lani re-
alised the hall below had been deceptive. The house
was much bigger than it had appeared downstairs,
and she coloured in embarrassment when she saw

that the young man was observing her evident

bemusement.

'It's this way,' he said laconically, leading them

down the corridor to a door that lay at the far end.
Lani had scarcely time to register the scarred and
shabby paintwork before he had thrust open the
door with a flourish and ushered them into the
room. 'Mr 5t John, old lady,' he announced, with
deliberate irreverence, and the old woman propped
against the pillows of the huge bed that dominated
the room regarded him with obvious hostility.

'I told you, Jake-' she began, only to break off

abruptly as Lani followed her father into the room.
'What's this?' she cried, her lips curling in distaste.
'Jake, who is this child? Get her out of my bedroom
at once. You know I don't allow children into my
room.'

Lani thought the old woman looked a little like a

witch, curled there in the middle of the big bed,
screaming vituperatively at the young man, who
seemed less than perturbed by her utterances. 5he
decided she didn't like Mrs Worth any more than
Mrs Worth liked her, and she didn't like her bed-
room, either, crammed as it was with lots of little
tables and chairs and overstuffed sofas that smelt of
decay.

'I'm afraid Lani is my daughter, Mrs Worth,'

Roger 5t John was explaining rather awkward-
Iy. 'Her mother ... well, Lani has been left in my
care, and naturally I couldn't leave her at the
hotel.'

'Your domestic arrangements are no concern of

mine, Mr 5t John,' the old woman declared harshly,
and the young man smiled as he made to leave

them. 'Where are you going?' Her sharp eyes had

caught his movement and her words arrested him.
'I didn't give you permission to leave us. Kindly
come in and close the door while I'm talking. It's
draughty.'

He sighed then, his hand on the doorknob, but

made no effort to do as she had bidden. 'No time,
old lady,' he said, his dark gaze narrowed and
indolent. 'So nice to meet you, Mr St John-Lani.'
His mouth quirked. 'I’ll ask Hannah to come and
show your visitors out later.'

'You'll do no such thing!' The old woman was

trembling with rage. 'I haven't finished speaking to
you, Jake. Where are you going? What are you
going to do? I won't have my nerves shredded like
this, just because you have some crazy idea-'

'Later, old lady.' The young man's eyes flickered

broodingly over her visitors. 'You know where I’ll
be. We can talk later-'

'All right, then take the child with you,' the old
woman commanded shrilly. 'I’ll not have a child in
the room while I have a confidential conversation.
Take her with you; entertain her!'

'Oh, but-' began Roger St John doubtfully, only

to have his words overridden by the young man' s
anger.

'I'm not a baby-sitter, old lady,' he averred, turn-

ing towards the door, but this time Lani's gasp of
indignation caused him to hesitate.

'I don't need anyone to take charge of me, Dad-

dy,' she exclaimed, facing her father with burning
cheeks. 'If ... if Mrs Worth has no objections, I’ll go
for a walk along the cliffs. I could do with some fresh
air. It's rather ... stuffy in here.'

'Are you sure?' murmured her father anxiously,

and Lani nodded her head vigorously.

'I'm sure,' she declared, avoiding the young

man' s faintly admiring eyes. I’ll only walk a short
way. Then I’ll wait for you in the car.'

Mrs Worth snorted. 'There's no need for you to

wait in the car, girl. Hannah-my housekeeper,
don' t you know-she'll give you a glass of lemon-
ade in the kitchen, if you ask her nicely.'

'I don't want a glass of lemonade, thank you,'

said Lani stiffly, and sensed rather than heard the
young man' s muffled amusement. I’ll see you later,
Daddy. Don't hurry. I'll be quite all right.'

She passed the young man in the corridor, and he

inclined his head in mocking salute as he closed Mrs
Worth' s bedroom door behind her and followed her
down the stairs. But Lani was determined to ignore
him after the way he had spoken of her, and she was
taken by surprise when he stepped in front of her
before she could open the front door.

'Bravo,' he remarked lazily, and although she

wanted to treat him frigidly, like the heroines did in
all the novel s that were smuggled into the school
dorm during term time, she couldn't prevent her
lips from twitching when his broke into a grin.

'Well,' she said, by way of justification, 'she's a

horrible old woman! Shouting like that, and order-
ing people about. I don't know why you put up with
it. Do you work for her or something?'

'Or something,' agreed the young man, opening

the door. 'She's my grandmother. Only don't tell
her I've told you. It's not something either of us is
very proud of.'

Lani stepped into the chilly atmosphere outside,

shivering in spite of the warm red anorak she was
wearing over her sweater. She wondered how . . .
Jake, if that was his name, could stand to be without
-a jacket, but in all honesty, he didn't appear to feel
the cold.

They descended the steps together, and sudden-

ly Lani wished she had not been so vehement in her
bid for independence. She liked talking to him. She
liked his dry humour. And when he started across
the expanse of salt-sprayed turf that was all that
separated the house from the edge of the cliff, she
asked him where he was going.

'Home,' he answered her shortly, pushing his

hands into the pockets of his jeans, and Lani' s green
eyes widened.

'Don't you live here?'

'At the house? No. My home is down there.' He

pointed towards the cliffs. 'Out of sight of the
road.'

Lani followed him to the edge of the cliff, and

peered over rather nervously. A path, practically
overgrown with weeds and marsh grass, wound its
way down the cliff face and disappeared. But jutting
out from the rocks she could see the wooden slats of
what appeared to be a precariously placed veran-
dah, and she turned to look at him.

'That's your house?'

"The Sea House, yes.'

"The Sea House.' Lani said the words over. 'What

a lovely name for a house. May I see it?'

Jake regarded her quizzically. 'I thought you

wanted to go for a walk.'

'I wanted to get out of that room,' exclaimed Lani

crossly. 'Besides, you and your grandmother spoke

as if I was a child. I'm not a child. I'm almost fifteen!'

'And I'm twenty-three,.' retorted Jake drily. 'I

admit, you're a little too old to need a baby-sitter,
but you're definitely too young to be seen going
home with me!'

Lani sighed. 'That's silly. You're not a sex maniac,

are you?'

'It's not something I talk about,' remarked Jake

with a mocking grin, but Lani was frustrated.
'Really,' she persisted persuasively, 'what harm
can it do? I only want to see the house.'

'I think not,' said jake flatly, pushing back his hair
with a rather impatient gesture. 'Look, I'm sorry if I
offended you earlier, but I'm not used to dealing
with embryo feminists, Put it down to experience.'
He grimaced. 'Now, I've got some work to do.
Goodbye.'

Lani would not be put off that easily. 'What kind

of work?' she asked, as he started down the cliff
path. 'I thought you said you worked for your
grandmother. What do you do? Look after the
house for her?'

'Among other things,' he agreed, glancing back

over his shoulder. 'Enjoy your walk. It's be en nice
meeting you, Lani.'

'It' s been nice meeting you, too,' murmured Lani

grudgingly, watching until he disappeared from
sight. Suddenly, all the excitement had gone out of
the day, and she hunched her shoulders broodingly
as she turned to look up at the windows of Mrs
Worth's house.

How could the woman treat her grandson like

that, she wondered, scuffing her canvas shoe
against the turf. She really was an objectionable old

witch, and if she was Jake she wouldn't have put up

with her shouting for another minute.

He really had been rather nice, she reflected,

allowing his dark image to blot out the rather ugly
lines of Mrs Worth's mansion. Tall, lean and attrac-
tive, with that very dark complexion Cornishmen
sometimes have. He didn't look at all like his grand-
mother, whose appearance had not endeared her to
Lani in the first place, and remembering his lazy
eyes and mocking smile, she wished she had not
jumped so quickly to defend herself. Until then, she
had thought her father epitomised everything she
should look for in a member of the opposite sex, but
Jake was nothing like Roger St John. Her father was
always so particular about his appearance, but he
didn't look as if he'd been poured into his clothes.
He was handsome, too, but his skin didn't lookas if
he had spent the past six months in the Bahamas,
nor when he moved did he have that curious feline
grace which gave Lani a peculiar feeling in the pit of
her stomach. It was an odd analogy, but although
Jake was almost exactly her father's opposite, Lani
found him the most attractive man she had ever
met.

Abandoning these thoughts, she turned to look

down the cliff path again. The jutting verandah was
still visible, and she sighed rather impatiently at the
realisation she would probably never know what
his house was like. And why shouldn't she, she
asked herself defensively. There was no law which
said which way she should take her walk.

Telling herself she was only doing this so that she

would have something exciting to tell her friends
when she went back to school after the Easter

holidays, Lani took a cautious step down the steep-

ly sloping path. The only other occasion she had
had anything exciting to report was when her
cousin Robin, who was two years her senior, had
kissed her under the mistletoe at Christmas, and
that had been so revolting she had had the greatest
difficulty in convincing her best friend, Libby Fors-
ter, that she had actually enjoyed it. Robin's boyish
lips had been so wet and sloppy, and his breath
hadn't be en particularly pleasant, either. Lani had
been glad when her father appeared and broke
them up, even if she had told Libby she had be en
furious.

Beneath her, the sea was splintering against the

headland, the spume leaving traces of foam on the
rocks. It was unnerving to imagine what could
happen if she missed her footing, and halfway
down she was tempted to climb back up again. She
hoped her father wouldn't come looking for her.
She doubted he would approve of this escapade,
but she was committed to go on, if for no other
reason than that the idea of turning on the path was
almost as terrifying.

The house was there below her now, and every

now and then on the wind she heard the sound of
music. Jake must have turned up his hi-fi to com-
pensate for the noise of the ocean, she thought,
scrambling down the last few feet. Whatever he was
doing, obviously he liked an accompaniment, and
she knew a moment' s compunction that he might
think she was prying.

The house itself was an amazing feat of engineer-

ing. Someone had blasted a shelf in the cliff face,
and the building had been erected under the over-

hang. Two-storied, it nestled on its shelf as if it had

always been there, the wooden verandah Lani had
glimpsed from above jutting out on a cantilevered
framework that was embedded deep in the rock
below. The view from the verandah must be quite
magnificent, she thought admiringly, brought to a
dead-end by a flight of steps that led up to a side
door. But obviously, this was as far as she could go,
unless she chose to disobey Jake.

The music was clearly audible now, the plaintive

sound of one of Chopin' s sonatas, she decided,
having studied musical appreciation for two years.
5he was surprised. She would have expected Jake to
like the kind of modern music she enjoyed, but
there was no accounting for tastes.

The music stopped abruptly a few seconds later,

the discordant sound of someone bringing his
hands down hard on the keys making the strangely
poignant melody come to an end. Lani was sur-
prised, as much by the angry disruption of the piece
as by its sudden cessation. She couldn't believe
anyone could be cruel enough to record an artist' s
breakdown-which left only one alternative: it
wasn't a recording at all.

Curiosity getting the better of her, and glad that

she was wearing soft-soled shoes, Lani cautiously
mounted the steps to the verandah. She didn't
attempt to knock at the door. She knew if what she
suspected was true, she would be even less wel-
come right now. Instead, she tiptoed round the
curve of the building and peeped hastily through
the first window she came to.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

5he was almost scared out of her wits by the

angry voice that accosted her, and unable to remem-

ber anything she had seen, she turned to face her
irate captor. He had shed the sweat-shirt now, and
in a short-sleeved cotton body shirt, he looked even
more attractive. But his expression was not attrac-
tive-it was almost ugly-and Lani expelled her
breath anxiously, not sure how to handle this.

'I was walking,' she offered hurriedly. 'I heard

... music.'

'So you came to spy on me?'

'No.'

'What el se would you call it?'

'I was curious, that's all,' exclaimed Lani, recover-

ing a little from her fright. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know
the path was private. I ... I thought it might lead
somewhere.'

'It does. Here,: he declared flatly.

'.I meant somewhere else,' retorted Lani, straight-

ening her shoulders.

'So what are you doing on my verandah?'

She shrugged, realising there was no point in

lying to him. 'I'm sure you know why,' she mur-
mured. 'I heard how the piece ended. I wanted to
see if it really was you playing.'

'It was.' He lifted one hand to massage the mus-

cles at the back of his neck. 'So now you know.' He
grimaced. 'Oh, what the hell! You might as well
come in. I was just about to make myself some
coffee. Do you want a cup?'

Lani let her breath out with a gulp. 'I' d love one,'
she said, and after a moment's hesitation, he indi-
cated that she should precede him round the side of
the building and in through the door she had seen
earlier.

She found herself in the room she had briefly

glimpsed through the window, and she was sur-
prised to discover that although it was quite com-
fortably furnished, there was no carpet on the floor.
Instead, the floor was made of blocks of wood, and
despite being worn in places, it still gleamed with

the patina of age. .

Dominating the room was the piano she had

heard him playing as she' d descended the cliff path.
It was a polished baby grand, and she wondered
briefly how that had ever be en transported down
the cliff. Right now, it was strewn with sheets of the
lined manuscript used by a musician when compos-
ing or arranging a piece of music, but. Lani didn't
pay these much attention. She was too interested in
examining the rest of the room, and its long narrow
windows that overlooked the stormy ocean.

'I'll get the coffee,' said Jake, crossing the room to

another door which apparently led to the kitchen
and stairs. 'Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. I
won't be long.'

Lani seated herself on one of the two chintz-

covered sofas that faced one another across the
hearth. A log fire was smouldering in the grate, the
only kind of heating that she could see, and she held
her hands out towards its warmth, looking about
eagerly.

Apart from the piano, there were books on the

shelves by the fireplace, and a drop-leaf table was
pushed into one comer. There were several chairs
and a small cabinet, and a stereo deck with a pair of
speakers fastened to the walls. There was no tele-
vision that she could see. Everything had a practical
use, as if it was necessary to conserve space, and it

seemed odd that he should be living here alone,

when his grandmother had so many unused rooms
up at her house.

He came back carrying two earthenware mugs of

coffee, and she took one gratefully, smiling her
thanks. 'I didn't expect this,' she murmured as he
seated himself opposite her.

. His mouth twisted as he countered wryly, 'What

did you expect?'

Lani coloured. It was an annoying habit, one

which she hoped she would grow out of, but now
she tried to hide her embarrassment by changing
the subject. Was the piece you were playing by
Chopin? I've been doing so me musical appreciation
at school, and I recognised the style.'

Jake spread his legs apart, cradling his cup be-

tween his hands. 'What else do you do at school?'
he inquired without answering her question. His
dark eyes appraised her. 'Let me guess-you like art
and drama.'

Lani resented his mocking tone. 'As a matter of

fact, I enjoy maths and English best,' she said
defensively and not altogether truthfully. 'And
games. I love swimming.'

'Really?' Jake regarded her intently. 'Well, yes, I

guess you are tall for your age. What do you plan to
do when you grow up?'

'I am grown up,' retorted Lani shortly. 'If l lived in

any other country but England, l' d be old enough to
get married. That's hardly childish, is it?'

'Okay.' His lips twitched. 'What do you plan to

do when you leave school, then? What do your
parents want you to do? Follow in your father's
footsteps?'

'Perhaps.' Lani was growing tired of this kind of

questioning. 'Tell me about your work, Mr Worth.
Are you a professional pianist? Ought I to have
heard of you?'

'Pendragon.' he said flatly, momentarily confus-

ing her. 'My name's Jake Pendragon. My mother
was the old lady's daughter.'

'Oh!' Lani sipped her coffee. 'That's unusual,

isn't it? Pendragon. It sounds sort of ... Arthurian.
Is it?'

Jake gave her a wry look. 'You ask a lot of ques-

tions.'

'So do you.' Lani was indignant. 'And you must

admit, it is rather mysterious, your living down
here alone, and your grandmother having that big
old house to herself.'

Jake lay back against the cushions, allowing the

mug to rest on his flat stomach. 'There's no mys-
tery,' he declared carelessly. 'The Sea House be-
longed to my mother. When my grandfather died,
he left it to her. Now that she's dead, too, it's mine.'

Lani frowned. 'I see. But when your grandmother

dies-'

'-her money goes to charity, or at least, I hope it

does,' responded Jake with alacrity. 'She doesn't
really approve of me, any more than she approved
of my father.' He paused. 'My mother married
without her parents' consent, you see, and the old
lady' s never forgiven her-or me-for going against
her wishes.'

'The mean old thing!' Lani was sympathetic.

'No sweat.' Jake shrugged. 'I don't want her

money. I guess that bugs her, too.'

'But you like living here?'

'Yes.'

'And you do spend so me time with your grand-

mother.'

'Why not? She's a lonely old woman.'

Lani shook her head. 'I wouldn't.'

'Oh, I think you would.' Jake regarded her quizzi-

cally. 'Old people are like children. They like to be
humoured.'

Lani glanced at him between her lashes. 'I sup-

pose you think you're humouring me.'

'How could I? You told me you weren't a child.'

Lani was about to make some indignant retort,
when she caught the humorous glint in his eyes
and smiled instead. 'Do you think I'm very preco-
cious?'

'I think it's time you were leaving,' replied Jake

briefly, pushing himself up and finishing the coffee
in his cup. 'Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.'
'Oh-must I?' Lani was disappointed.

'I think you must,' affirmed Jake, getting to his

feet and offering her his hand. 'If your father
finishes his discussion with the old lady and comes
looking for you . . .'

'So what?' Lani shrugged as she took his hand

and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Close to him
as she was, she was able to look up into his eyes,
and she took full advantage of her moment of
intimacy. 'I'm not doing anything wrong, am I?'

'Aren' t you?'

For a moment he didn't move away, and her slim

young frame brushed tautly against the hard
strength of his body. It was as if there was an electric
current between them, a sudden absence of air that
left her feeling shaky and breathless. She could feel

the heat of his body, smell the clean male scent of

his skin, and she sensed the sudden tension that
put a barrier between them.

'No,' she got out breathily at last, realising how

inexperienced she was, and he turned abruptly
away.

'No,' he agreed, his mouth compressing grimly.

'But I wouldn't advise you to try that trick on
anyone else.'

'What trick?' Lani feigned ignorance. 'I don't

know what you're talking about.'

'I think you do,' retorted Jake, walking towards

the door. 'Have you got all your belongings?'

'Oh ... yes.' Lani glanced about her unhappily.

'I didn't bring anything. Only myself.'

'Hmm.'

Jake inclined his head indifferently and, swinging

open the door, he stood aside to allow her to pre-
cede him through it. The chilliness of the air gave
Lani a reason for the shiver that feathered along her
spine, and she stepped out on to the verandah
feeling cold and miserable.

'Goodbye,' she murmured, turning to face him,

and Jake inclined his head in a silent acknowledge-
ment. 'l-you're not-mad at me, are you?'

'Mad at you?' Jake made a sound of impatience.

'Go away, Lani. You're much too young to care one
way or the other.'

'l'm not, I'm not.' Lani caught her lower lip

between her teeth. 'Mr Pendragon: Ja k e !Please,
don' t be angry. I just wanted you to realise that I
wasn't a child, that's all.'

'You're much too provocative for me to treat you

any other way,' responded Jake harshly. 'But don't

worry. I won't tell your father, if that's what you're

afraid of.'

'I' m not afraid-' began Lani, and then broke off

with a sigh of resignation. 'Oh~ well-l' d better go,
hadn’t I? I m not going to convince you of anything
standing here, am I?'

'No.' Jake was adamant. 'Can you make it? To the

top, I mean?'

'I guess so.' Lani nodded, and then, as he was

about to turn away, she added, 'If ... if Daddy has
to come here again, would you let me come back?'
'I don't think that's likely.'

'No.' Lani was honest. 'But ... would you?'

There was a moment when Jake regarded her

with faintly impatient eyes, and then his features
relaxed. 'I don't think I could trust myself,' he
remarked mockingly, causing the hot colour to
flood Lani' s cheeks .once more, and with an angry
compression of her lips, she turned away. But it was
humiliation that caused the unwelcome brush of
tears against her cheeks, and the realisation that for
him she was still just a child.
CHAPTER TWO

LANI'S parents were divorced the following year.

The upheaval in the family had a disastrous effect

on Lani's '0' levels and her examination results
were so poor that her father withdrew her from the
boarding school she had be en attending and sent
her to a finishing school near Berne.

This idea didn't work out either, however. Lani

was unhappy in a foreign country, and although
she quite enjoyed exercising her French, her in-
terest in social and economic skills was negligible.
She pleaded to come home, to take her mother's
place in their now empty house in Kensington, and
after suffering her tears for more than six months,
Roger St John gave in.

For a time, this seemed a satisfactory solution.

Lani practised the skills she had acquired, by choos-

ing menus when her father was obliged to entertain
clients, and by acting as his hostess on these occa-
sions. A blossoming teenage daughter was always
an asset when the conversation began to falter, and
it was gene rally agreed how like her father she was,
and how lucky he was to have such a charming
companion.

The occasions when Lani saw her mother grew

less frequent. When the divorce was first instituted,
she spent most Sundays with Clare at the luxurious
apartment she had leased off Belgrave Square. But
since the separation Clare' s career had flourished,

and without any family commitments, she was able

to accept longer and more demanding engage-
ments. She had been invited to Glyndebourne the
previous summer, and her success there had
prompted a long tour of Europe, playing many of
the most prestigious operatic roles. Her absence
had lent a certain detachment to their relationship,
and when she returned to London, Lani sensed the
distance swelling between them. Besides, she was
fast approaching an age when her mother would
prefer not to remember she was her daughter, and it
was impossible not to associate this with gossip she
read about Clare and various of her leading men.
Nevertheless, it was her mother's evident in-
dependence that finally forced Lani into making a
decision about her own career. She had drifted for
long enough, and while her father was quite con-
tent to see her filling her days with entertainments
and shopping, she was beginning to find it boring.
She was seventeen, and she wanted to do some-
thing with her life.

In spite of what she had told that arrogant young

man she had met at Mrs Worth's house almost two
years ago, she had enjoyed art at school, and
although she knew she had no ability to either sing
or act, drawing was something she had always
found relaxing. With her father's endorsement, she
enrolled that autumn at a college of further educa-
tion, taking creative art and design as her prime
subjects.

Lani enjoyed the new experience of being in-

volved with other people again. She had forgotten
what it was like to have to run for the bus in the
mornings, of gulping down her breakfast while it

was still dark and returning home in the evenings

feeling tired, but content. She liked the course and
her fellow students, all of whom were young and
enthusiastic and eager to succeed.

It helped, too, to ea se the hurt she sometimes felt

in knowing that her mother seldom made any con-
tact with her these days. Since the divorce was
finalised, they seemed to have drifted further and
further apart, and when she read about Clare
Austin-her mother had always used her profess-
ional name-in the gossip columns, she found it
hard to associate herself with the sought-after and
successful woman her mother had become.
Only on birthdays and at Christmas did Clare
make an effort to remember her daughter. Lavish
gifts arrived, tied in expensive wrapping paper:
delicate lingerie and exotic perfumes; a bracelet,
inset with diamonds; a leather coat, soft and supple
to the touch. Lani knew her father did not like these
offerings, seeing them as Clare's way of salving her
conscience for her neglect of her daughter, and In all
honesty, Lani too would have preferred a more
personal gift. But rather than promote any more
bitterness between them, she pretended to enthuse
over each individual item, only showing more en-
thusiasm for whatever her father had bought.

Lani found it was easier at college not to mention

her mother's identity. As Roger St John's daughter,
she was just one of the crowd, and she preferred the
anonymity. Only her closest friends learned of the
relationship, and their usual comment was that
they would never have guessed-that Lani was
nothing like her.

Sometimes Lani reflected that their desire to reas-

sure her was not entirely complimentary. She knew

she did not look a lot like her mother, but as Clare
Austin was considered a very beautiful woman, it
was not something of which she should be proud.
Her pale skin and unruly auburn hair were nothing
like her mother's pink and gold beauty, and only
her eyes, with their curiously green translucence,
gave any distinction to her otherwise ordinary fea-
tures. She was attractive, she supposed, if one liked
tall girls, with rather more flesh on their bones than
was entirely fashionable, but compared to Clare
Austin's slender elegance, she felt gauche and lack-
ing in grace.

Towards the end of Lani's second year at college,

she accidentally discovered she had an ability for
telling children' s stories. Her cousin Robin, whose
far-off kisses had caused her such revulsion, was
now married and struggling to raise a family in
north London. Sarah, his wife, had upset all their'
plans by producing twins within a year of their
marriage, and once they were old enough to be left
with a surrogate aunt, Lani had offered to baby-
sit.
She found she loved it. The two-year-old boys
took to their new 'aunt' with great enthusiasm, so
much so that before long, Lani was having difficulty
in getting them to bed. The only way she contrived
to persuade them to stay between the sheets was by
telling them stories, and soon she found herself
making up tales about giants and gnomes and dra-
gons and a witch whose spells kept going wrong.
Her imagination knew no bounds, and in the weeks
that followed, it seemed a natural progression to
produce her sketch pad and illustrate her narrative,

making the twins laugh with her humorous use of

caricature and clever interpretation.

It was Robin himself who suggested that she

should do something with her inventiveness. Com-
ing home earlier than usual one evening to find Lani
fast asleep across her drawing pad, he had gazed in
amazement at the lifelike sketches jumping out at
him from the page, and although Lani had belittled
her ability, he had been adamant.

'You've got real talent for this, can't you see?' he

exclaimed, startling Sarah by his vehemence. 'Lani,
maybe your mother's artistic talent has been hand-
ed on to you in this form. For goodness' sake, don't
knock it! You could sell these, I'm sure of it.'

Lani grimaced, gathering her pads and pencils

together. 'Anyone can draw,' she averred, putting
her belongings into the can vas satchel she carried
on her shoulder. 'These things don't amount to
much, honestly. You should listen to what Mr Har-
ris says about my lack of style.'

'I don't give a damn what this Mr Harris says.'

declared Robin fiercely. 'No tutor is going to give his
student credit for having this kind of talent. It' s
like-it' s like comparing pop music to the kind of
thing your mother sings. It appeals to the masses.
But what's wrong with that? The masses are the
people! Not the élite few!'

'Oh, Robin-' Lani gave Sarah a helpless look,

and the other girl smiled.

'Take no notice, Lani,' she advised her drily.

'Robin thinks everyone is desperate to make '
money. It comes of having to struggle to make ends
meet for the past four years.'
'Well, why not?' Robin was impatient. 'It's ob-

vious Lani' s taking this course at college to enable

her to make a career for herself. Why shouldn't it be
in this? Hell-she could write the books and illus-
trate them. You know how crazy our two are about
her stories.'

'Well ... '

Lani could tell Sarah was loath to admit that she

didn't think her stories were that original, so she did
it for her. 'Do you have any idea how many people
tell stories to their kids?' she asked Robin. 'I'm
flattered you feel that way, but really, let's not get
carried away by this.'

Robin heaved a frustrated sigh. 'What' s the mat-

ter, Lani? Are you afraid to try? Are you afraid you'll
fail? Has your mother's success destroyed every
scrap of belief in yourself?'

'Robin! That's a foul thing to suggest!'

Sarah was appalled, but Lani weathered his con-

tempt. 'Perhaps you're right’-sbe admitted rueful-
ly. 'It isn't easy being Clare Austin's daughter.
Perhaps I am afraid to know the truth.'

'Oh, hell.: Lani .. .' Robin looked discomfited

now, and his wife cast him a reproving look.
'Well?' she demanded. 'Are you satisfied? Now
that you've made Lani humble herself, can we let
this subject drop?'

Robin thrust his hands into his trouser pockets.

'I'm sorry, Lani,' he muttered, lifting his shoulders.
'You know me: I always do the wrong thing.'

'It's okay, honestly.' Lani felt slightly embarras-

sed herself. She hadn't taken his remarks to heart
half as much as Sarah imagined, and actually she
felt sorry for him now, anticipating the argument
that would ensue once he had taken her home.

In the car on the way to Lani' s home in Pelham

Court, she managed to keep off the subject, but as
they circled the fenced-off square of grass and pop-
lar trees that formed an island in the middle of the
small cul-de-sac, Robin asked if he might borrow
her drawings to show to a friend of his.
'I really would appreciate it, Lani,' he said, mak-
ing her refusal that much harder to voice, and with a
helpless shake of her head, she gave in.

'Who is this friend?' she asked suspiciously,

as she handed the sketch pad over, and Robin
grinned.

'Just a friend,' he replied, with some gratification.

'Se e you next week. Sleep tight.'

In fact, Lani forgot all about the drawings during

the next few days. It was nearing the end of term,
and she had plenty to do preparing her portfolio for
the yearly assessment. Also, her father had de-
veloped a rather worrying cough, after being caught
in a seasonal rain storm, and she was kept busy
making sure he did as the doctor had advised and
remained in his bed. Roger St John was not a good
patient, and she constantly found him using the
phone when she was out of the room, keeping in
touch with his office and the work-load which
seemed to have increased since Lani was no longer
dependent upon him for companionship.

It was almost a week later when Robin got in

touch with her again. Lani was surprised to hear
from him. She was planning to baby-sit for him and
Sarah the following evening, and her first thought
was that they had changed their plans. But Robin
soon disillusioned her on this score, explaining that
his call had nothing to do with their arrangement,

and that his real reason for ringing was because he

wanted her to meet a colleague of his at lunch the
following day.

'Tell me,' he went on, 'do you have any of that

stuff of yours written down? The stories you tell
Tom and Edward, I mean,' he added. 'If so, could
you bring it along?'

Lani sighed. 'What are you up to, Robin?'

'Are you really interested?'

'Of course I'm interested.' Lani could feel a flutter

in the pit of her stomach. 'Who is this friend of yours
you want me to meet? And why does he want to
meet me?'

'Can't you guess?' Robin sounded smug. 'He's an

agent, of course. His name's Miles Rossiter.'
'Oh, Robin.' Lani glanced helplessly round the
panelled walls, glad for once that her father was in
bed and couldn't hear her here in the hall. 'How
does an architect get involved with an agent?'

'We went to school together,' replied Robin airily,

and he s very interested m your drawings. He says
if the standard of writing is anything like the stan-
dard of drawing, you may have a real chance of
success.'

'But, Robin-'

'Have you? Any of your stories written down, I

mean?'

Lani hesitated. 'One or two.'

'Terrific. Bring them along. One o' clock at the

Mermaid. Don't be late.'

In the months that followed, Lani had every reason

to be grateful to Robin. Her first book, MatiIda, the
Butter-fingered W itch,
was published the following

spring, and its success led to another and another.

By the time her course at college was completed, she
had produced her fourth story about Matilda, and
she had offers to expand her characters into a week-
ly picture strip for a children's magazine. Her big-
gest breakthrough came six months later: when the
first set of three books were sold to a publisher In the
United States. lf they proved successful with their
wider audience, Lani knew she could consider her-
self totally independent.

Her association with Miles Rossiter was one of the

added bonuses from her involvement in writing.
From the beginning, he proved to be a good friend,
and she knew she owed a lot to him, too, for his
encouragement. At first, producing illustrations for
something she had written seemed the height of
conceit, and left to herself she might never have had
the courage to go on. But Miles and Robin had had
such faith in her, she had felt obliged to at least give
them the benefit of the doubt, and the out come
more than justified their belief.
Her father was thrilled, she knew, although she
suspected he would have preferred her to have a
more conventional occupation, Writing was an
artistic profession, and he had had enough of the
artistic temperament in his life. However, Lani
made sure she never indulged in any fits of tem-
perament when he was around, and. indeed she
seldom experienced the kind of irritability her

mother had often displayed.

Clare seemed delighted by her daughter's suc-

cess. The day Lani's first book was published, she
sent an enormous bouquet of flowers and a bottle of
champagne to toast her future, adding she was

sorry she could not be with her, but she was pre-
sently on tour in South Africa and would not be
returning to England until the following year.

Lani didn't mind. She had the feeling her father

was happier when Clare was out of the country. The
constant dribble of gossip about her mother was
wearing for both of them, and Roger St John did not
find it easy to accept that his ex-wife was associating
with men other than himself. Much of what was
written was probably exaggerated, Lani thought,
but she knew her father, who was normally such a
rational man, believed every word. He seemed to
have aged a great deal in the years since the divorce,
and Lani felt the strain of his disillusion. When
Clare was away, however, the columnists had other
fish to bait, and Lani had realised there was no truer
saying than out oi sight, out of m ind.

Nevertheless, towards the end of Lani' s course at

the art college, news began to filter back from the
United States that Clare Austin was being seen
frequently in the company of a young concert pian-
ist. Lani heard about it second-hand from Sarah,
and she imagined how galling it would be for her
father if Clare and the young American returned to
London together. Until now, Clare's escorts had all
been of a respectable age, but at forty-two, Clare
had apparently found herself an admirer twelve
years her junior.

'You can't blame her,' declared Sarah, watching

the anxious mixture of emotions crossing Lani's
face. 'I mean, it's not as if she looks her age, does
she? If l look like that when I'm forty-two, it will be a
miracle!'
'And me,' murmured Lani drily, touching the

tumbled weight of hair that refused to adhere to any

formal style. 'Oh, but Sarah, can you imagine how
Daddy is going to feel, if she brings him back to
England with her.'

Sarah shrugged her shoulders and moved to a

more comfortable position on the couch. Five years
of marriage had added several inches to her waist-
line, and now, with another baby due in a matter of
weeks, she felt too complacent to offer any real
objections.

'It is more than five years since the divorce,' she

reminded Lani reasonably. Then, with more anima-
tion, she added, 'Anyway, she's bound to want to
see you when she does come home, so you'll prob-
ably get to meet him. Now that you've become so
successful, she'll want to show you off.'

'I doubt it.' Lani grimaced. 'I remind her of her

age. I don't think even Matilda's success can over-
come that obstacle.'

Sarah looked sympathetic. 'How long is it since

you have se en her?'

'In the flesh?' Lani frowned. 'It must be nearly

two years. Yes--it was about a year after I started at
college. We had a drink together after a concert.'

'A drink?' Sarah shook her head. 'Is that all?'

'It was at her apartment,' declared Lani defens-

ively, but she knew what Sarah was thinking. She
had thought the same when she arrived at her
mother' s exclusive penthouse in Avenue Mews and
discovered she was expected to take her place
among a crowd of Clare' s admirers.

'Oh, well-' Realising Lani would prefer to

change the subject, Sarah swung her feet to the
floor. 'It's time I went to collect the terrible twins.

Goodness knows, how I'll cope when the new baby

arrives. If it wasn’t for Robin' s mother-'
She broke off abruptly, realising how inappropri-
ate her words must sound to the other girl, but Lani
merely smiled. 'I'll go and get the twins,' she said,
reaching for her sweater. 'You make some tea. You
know how much I enjoy showing off the new car.'

Lani, herself, was in the United States when her

mother returned to London. She arrived unex-
pectedly one dull November day, and Lani heard
about it from her father when she telephoned him
from her hotel in New York.

'It was on the e,vening news,' declared Roger St

John tautly, revealing the continuing bitterness he
felt whenever he spoke of his ex-wife. 'She flew in
with this latest man of hers--the pianist. He's
apparently got a concert at the Albert Hall and

she's here to support him.' '~

'Oh, Daddy!' Lani sighed, wishing she was there

to comfort him. 'I don't know why you let her upset
you so. There have been men before. I expect
there'll be others. Just try and put thoughts of her
out of your-'

'She. says she's going to marry this one,' her

father mterrupted her harshly. 'She says she's really
m love this time: He snorted impatiently. 'What
she really means is that the years are slipping away,
and she s not getting any younger!'

'Oh, Daddy,' said Lani again, feeling the help-

lessness that distance evoked, but her father was
not finished.

'You realise this-pianist is almost twenty years

younger than she is, don't you?' he grated. 'Twenty

years! My God, she' s old enough to be his mother!'

'I-I heard that it was twelve years,' admitted
Lani unhappily. 'But what does it matter, Daddy?
It's her life-'

'Pendragon,' snapped her father, ignoring her.

'What kind of a name is that? Another gimmick to
attract people's attention, I suppose. Classical
music for the masses, and a pretty concert pianist to
bring in-'
'Pendragon?' Lani had heard little beyond her
father's first words. 'Did you say-Pendragon?'
'Yes. That's his name. Pendragon. I thought you
knew.'

Lani shifted back on the soft velour cushioning of

the couch, catching her breath with difficulty. Pen-
dragon, she was saying to herself disbelievingly.
J a k ePendragon. Oh, it couldn't be!

'Are you still there, Lani?'

Her father's voice sounded anxious now, and

Lani hastened to reassure him. 'Yes. Yes,' she said
faintly. 'I'm still here. I'm sorry. What were you
saying?'

'I thought you knew about this young man,'

exclaimed her father peevishly. 'I can't believe you
haven't read about them. The papers have been full
of it.'

Lani, who had spent the summer avoiding read-

ing reports about her mother in case she inadver- ,
tently blurted something about her to her father,
now shook her head. 'It was Sarah,' she confessed
honestly. 'Sarah told me. But she didn't mention
the man's name.'

'Huh.' Her father sounded put out. 'Well, I

should have thought you' d have had some interest

in the man who is reputedly going to become your

stepfather. My God! The idea's obscene! Your
mother must be out of her mind.'

Lani couldn't argue with him right then. The

possibility that her mother' s new boy-friend could
be the arrogant young pianist she had met all those
years ago in Cornwall needed some consideration,
and she was annoyed to find that her palms were
moist and that she was decidedly shivery. It was the
cold, she told herself fiercely, promising to turn up
the heat the minute her father rang off, but nothing
could alter the fact that she had received a shock.

'Enough about her.' said her father suddenly, to

her immense relief. 'You haven't told me what
you've been doing. Did you see Lyn Vincent? What
did he say?'
'Oh, yes.' Lani expelled her breath cautiously. 'I
saw him. We had lunch together, as a matter of fact.
He' s going to do the books almost exactly as they"
were. He says he's rushing the first one out to meet
the Christmas market.'

'That's great news.' Her father endeavoured to

infuse an element of enthusiasm into his voice. 'So
when will you be home?'

'The day after tomorrow, I hope.' Lani heard the

sigh of relief her father gave, and hurried on, 'Lyn
wants me to come in to the office tomorrow to
discuss one or two modifications they've made in
the dialogue, so that the children here can under-
stand more easily. But I should be back by Thurs-
day.'

'I'll look forward to it.' Her father was vehement.

'Do look after yourself, darling. You're all l've got.'
Even though she turned up the central heating

after her father' s call, Lani could not rid herself of

the sense of chill which persisted long after she
went to bed. Lying in the isolated luxury of the
king-sized four-poster, she could not dismiss the
possibility that her mother' s Pendragon was her
Pendragon. The name was simply too unusual, and
the fact that they both played piano was too great a
coincidence to ignore. But how could it be so? The
man she had known had lived in Cornwall, at the
Sea House. The man her mother was involved with
was reputed to be an American. She must be wrong.
She must!

She sighed. Not that she had any reason to regard

Jake Pendragon as her property, in any case. She
hardly knew him, and just because she had ex-
aggerated their encounter for the benefit of the girls
at school did not mean she should start believing
her own stories. Nevertheless, she had spent sev-
eral sleepless nights in the dormitory, composing
letters to him which were never sent, and for a time
she had believed she was in love with him.
The upheaval in her family life had changed all
that. Her parents' divorce had driven a wedge be-
tween fact and fantasy, and by the time she re-
turned from Switzerland, she had lost her desire for
romantic entanglements. Her father was alone and
lonely and he needed her. Her own personal feel-
ings no longer seemed important.

Of course eventually she had found friends of her

own, male as well as female. She knew without
conceit that men liked her, that she was popular.
She was not beautiful, as her mother was beautiful,
but that didn't bother her. She had no shortage of
admirers, and she genuinely believed it was her

persona lit y that attracted them. She completely

overlooked the fact that an abundance of red-gold
hair, combined with clear green eyes and a flawless
complexion, had their own particular charm; and
the long-legged litheness of her body more than
balanced the voluptuous fullness of her figure.

. Lani arrived. back at Heathrow on Thursday even-

ing. A light drizzle was falling as she emerged from
the aircraft, and she was relieved when her father
detached himself from the crowd of waiting rela-
tives and came to meet her. He looked older, she
thought anxiously, even though it was less then a
week since she went away, and she guessed her
mother' s return to England had proved a terrific
strain.

'Did you have a good trip?' he asked, after their

initial greetings were over and he was helping her
into the sleek Daimler he invariably drove. 'The
weather's be en appalling since you went away. It
hardly seems possible it' s still seven weeks to
Christmas.'

'The trip was okay,' Lani replied, as they joined

the M4 into London. 'As a matter of fact, it was
raining in New York, too, when I left.' She grim-
aced. 'We should be grateful it's not snowing.'

‘Hmm;' Roger St John was concentrating on his

driving. I suppose you re right. In any event, your
mother looks lovely and brown. I gather she's spent
the last three weeks in Antigua.'

Lani sighed. Her mother already! Couldn't her

father think about anything else?
'You've seen her?' she ventured cautiously, and
he nodded.

'Last night,' he agreed. 'On the box. She was

being interviewed by that fellow who has that

twice-weekly chat-show.'

'Oh, I see.' Lani relaxed a little. 'You mean Chris

Faulds. What a pity I wasn't here. Did she handle it
well?'

'As you might expect,' replied her father dourly.

'Your mother was always able to handle interviews.
She looked positively radiant. Whatever that chap' s
doing for her, it evidently suits her.'

Lani winced. 'He was with her?'

'Pendragon?' Roger St John used the name con-

temptuously. 'No. He wasn't with her. I don't sup-
pose he was invited. Who is he, when all's said and
done? Nobody's ever heard of him.'

Lani moistened her lips. 'I wouldn't say that.'

Her father's hands clamped on the steering
wheel. 'Well anyway, Clare was alone. She looked
... magnificent.'

Lani bent her head, wishing her father could stop

thinking about her mother. It could so easily be-
come an obsession with him; Lani knew that better
than anyone. It resurrected her fears that her
mother's career was tearing him apart, and she
wished he had been more willing to meet someone
else. But Roger St John wasn't interested in other
women, and his ex-wife's affairs filled him with
disgust.

Lani slept late the next morning, and it was the

telephone that eventually got her out of bed at
noon. Blinking sleepily at Mrs Evans when she
came to wake her, Lani did a double take when she
saw the time, and the elderly housekeeper made a
soothing gesture as her employer' s daughter
sprang swiftly out of bed.

'It's only Mr Rossiter,' she declared as Lani hast-

ily pulled her kimono about her. 'He did say not to
wake you, but.I thought you might like to be up.'
You were right.’ Lani cast a brief glance at her
reflection m the dressing-table mirror as she swept
back her hair with a careless hand. 'My God! I look
awful. Why didn’ t you wake me sooner? I intended
to start work again today.'

'Your father said to let you sleep.' replied Mrs

Evans comfortably, following the girl down the
stairs, 'And I agreed with him. Besides, Friday' s not
a day. to start anything. Wait until Monday. That
will give me time to tidy the studio-'

'I 'lltidy the studio, thank you, Mrs Evans,' said

Lani firmly, picking up the receiver in the hall.
:Hello, Miles. I'm sorry I've had to keep you wait-
ing.'

'Lani.' The way he said her name was indicative

of the affection he felt towards her. 'Hey, I've mis-
sed you. How did you like New York?'

'It was. . . different,' she admitted honestly. "The

people were very friendly, and they made me feel
very welcome.'

'But you're not sorry to be home?'

'You should have come with me,' she declared

frankly. 'New York is no place for a woman alone.'
'I wish I had,' exclaimed Miles with enthusiasm,
'I can think of nothing l' d have liked better. It was
just impossible for me to get away this week.'

'I know.' Lani forgave him. 'Is that why you rang?

To apologise?'

'No. I rang to invite you out to lunch but it seems

like you're not going to be able to make it so how
about dinner instead?' Miles replied at once. 'We

could eat at the Mermaid. Or at my place, if you'd

rather.'

Miles lived in a service apartment in a modern

block near Hyde Park, but so far Lani had evaded

any invitations there. It wasn’t that she didn’t like
Miles, she did, and she was quite prepared to accept
that in time their relationship might well expand in
that direction. But for now, she preferred to keep it
within certain limits, and they did not include eat-

ing at India Mews. ,.,

'I can't this evening, Miles, she said with regret,

relieved that at least her excuses were genuine. 'I

mean-it was quite late last evening when I got
home, and Daddy-well, I know he'll be expecting
me to have dinner at home this evening.'

'Your father is a selfish old man!' remarked Miles

succinctly. 'For God's sake, Lani, I haven't seen you
for a week, either. Don't I deserve any considera-

tion?' .

'Of course you do.' Lani was not offended by his

candour. 'Maybe tomorrow-' .

'Evening?' he asked suspiciously, and Lani gave a

soft laugh.

'If you like.'

'Where, and at what time?'

'You can pick me up here, if you like,' offered.

Lani, after a moment' s hesitation. 'Then we can

decide where we're going to eat.' .

'Are you sure?' Miles knew her father did not

really approve of anyone connected with the artistic
side of his daughter's life, and although the two
men had met, they were not exactly the best of

friends.

'Yes, I'm sure,’ declared Lani emphatically.

Perhaps it would help her father get his own life

into perspective if she stopped protecting him
all the time. 'Come about seven, hmm? I'll be
ready.'

'And I'll be waiting,' Miles assured her huskily.

'See you.'
Lani was in the shower when the telephone rang
again. This time she heard it, but deciding whoever
it was could wait, she allowed Mrs Evans to take the
call. It could be Sarah, she reflected. Robin' s and
Sarah's baby girl was being christened on Sunday,
and Lani was to be her godmother. Sarah could be
phoning up to check that she was back. Turning off
the tap, Lani reached for the towel.

'Lani! Lani, can you hear me?'

Mrs Evans' anxious voice brought a quiver of

apprehension to the girl' s stomach, and wrapping
the towel about her, she stepped out of the shower
and went to open the bathroom door. 'Is something
wrong, Mrs Evans?' she asked, her long hair drip-
ping on to the carpet. 'Who was on the phone?
Daddy?'

'It's not your father on the phone, Lani,,’ ex-

claimed Mrs Evans reprovingly, her expression elo-
quent enough. 'It's your mother. It's Mrs St John,
Do you want to speak to her?'

Lani's stomach took a downward plunge. 'My

mother?' she echoed faintly. It seemed years since
Clare had last contacted her. 'I-why yes. Yes, I
suppose so. Will you ask her to wait a moment,
while I put on some clothes?'

In the event, Lani paused only long enough to

wind her hair up in a dry towel and pull on the silk
kimono, before descending the stairs once again.

Curiosity and the sickening tightness of her nerves

were forcing her to hurry when common sense was
telling her to take her time. She was ~lightly out of
breath when she picked up the receiver, and she
could hear her heart pounding as she said unsteadi-

ly, 'Mother?' ..

'Clare ' came her mother's crisp tones, familiar

even after all this time. 'Call me Clare, darling.
Everyone does. How are you? How's your father?
It's so long since we've seen one another.'

'You and Daddy?' Lani was briefly confused, and

Clare uttered a sound of impatience.
'No. You and I, goose,' she exclaimed shortly.
'lt's time we got together. That's why l'm ringing. I
want you to come to dinner tomorrow evening. Say

about half past seven?' .

'Tomorrow evening?' Lani's thumbnail probed

anxiously at her teeth.

'Yes, tomorrow evening,' agreed Clare pleasant-

ly. 'You know where I live, don't you? lt's still the

same apartment.' . .

Lani panicked suddenly. 'I can't.' she said quick-

ly. 'I-I already have a date. I-I'm sorry, Mother.
Could we make it some other time?'

'Lani.' Clare sounded hurt now. 'Lani, do you

mean to tell me you're going to put some pimply

youth before your own mother?' .

'Miles is not a pimply youth, Mother.' exclaimed

Lani defensively, but she felt guilty just the same.
After all, it was almost two years since she had seen
Clare, and being asked to share a meal with her was
not so much to ask.

'Miles?' Clare was saying now. 'Miles who? Do I

Kno whim?'

'I don't think so. He's my agent,' explained Lani

uncomfortably. 'I-how are you, Mother? I missed
your appearance on television the other evening,
unfortunately. '

There was a pregnant silence for a few moments,

and then Clare resumed their conversation, her
voice distinctly cooler now. 'I assume your father
knows I'm back in the country, doesn't he?' she
inquired, without answering Lani's question. 'Are
you sure he's not behind this sudden reluctance to
see me?'

,'No!' Lani's denial was vehement. 'It's just-well,

I’ve been away, too, and ... and I have commit-
ments.'
'To an agent?' Clare's tone was scathing. 'Lani
you disappoint me, you really do. I always thought
we understood one another. Now it appears you've
allowed your father's feelings to poison your mind
against me.'

'That's not true.' Lani raised her eyes heaven-

ward for a moment,. and then after a momentary
hesitation she gave ,m. All right,' she said tautly.
All right, I’ll come. Better to get it over with, she
told herself without conviction. Miles would under-
stand. If she explained how inadequate her mother
always made her feel ...

'Oh, good.' Clare's satisfaction now was almost

tangible. 'So-we'll say seven-thirty, shall we?'

'If you like.' Lani was apathetic, but as usual,

once sh~ had got her way, Clare was prepared to be
magnanimous.

'I'll make it up to you, darling,' she declared

warmly. 'Now that I'm back in England, we can
meet more often, go shopping together sometimes.

You're growing up. We're more like sisters than

mother and daughter, aren't we? Don't you think
that's a good idea? We should be friends.'

'Mother, I am grown up.' said Lani flatly. 'I'm

over twenty you know.'

'Isn't that what I've been saying?' Clare was char-

acteristically obtuse, only listening to those parts of
Lani's conversation that agreed with her. 'Until
tomorrow evening then. I'll be looking forward
to it. Wear something pretty. I want to show you
off.'

It wasn't until Lani was halfway upstairs again

that the full import of her mother' s last statement
struck home. Clare wanted to show her off! To
whom, she wondered apprehensively. And more

important, for what purpose?

Sinking down on to a carpeted stair, Lani pressed
the tip of her fingers against her lips. She had been a
fool, a complete fool! She should have asked her
mother if they were dining alone, and if not, she
should have stuck to her refusal. As it was, she had
no way of knowing what her mother had planned,
and the probability that Clare's latest conquest
might be there was more than an even chance. She
took a deep breath and surveyed her options: she
could either go to dinner as planned, or she could
ring back and make some other excuse. But what
excuse? What could she possibly say that would
convince Clare she was not allowing her father to
influence her? The last thing she wanted was for her
mother to start blaming her father for Lani's delin-
quency.

Sighing, Lani got to her feet again and continued

upstairs. There was nothing for it; she would have

to go, she decided unhappily. But the prospect of

telling both her father and Miles was not one she
was looking forward to.

CHAPTER THREE

LANI drove herself to her mother's apartment in

Avenue Mews. Her father had suggested rather
testily that she ought to take a taxi, but having her
own transport made Lani feel more independent.
At least if she had her own car, she could leave
when she felt like it, she thought defensively. refus-
ing to admit how much she needed that reassur-
ance.
Her father had accepted the news that she was
dining with her mother with unconcealed. rancour.
'It's your life, I suppose,' he declared, giving every
impression that he thought the contrary, and Lani
had to try to persuade him that she wasn’t looking
forward to it either. 'Then why are you going.
Roger St John countered brusquely. 'After the way
she has neglected you lately, I should have thought
you'd have had more pride. Or perhaps you’re
eager to meet your prospective stepfather. I imagine
Clare will want your endorsement of her latest piece
of folly.'
'It' s nothing like that, Daddy,' Lani had protested
unhappily. 'Honestly, l' m only going because it s so
long since I've seen her. She is my mother, after all. I
do have an obligation-'
'Clare forfeited any obligation when she walked
out on you, Lani,’ her father retorted forcefully.
'She' s an unnatural mother. Why else do you sup
pose I got custody? She didn't care about you then.
She doesn't care about you now. She only wants to
associate herself with your success.'
'Oh, Daddy, I don't think that's very likely,' Lani
exclaimed. 'Success is not something Clare has any
shortage of, is it?'
'Clare?' Her father frowned. 'You called her
Clare.'
'She asked me to,' admitted Lani unwillingly, and
her father drew in his breath impatiently.
'She would,' he declared, his lips twisting con-
temptuously. 'I fear your mother does not want to
admit her age.'
Miles was disappointed when Lani telephoned
him with her apologies. 'So when do I get to see you
then?' he demanded, after she had explained her
position. 'How about Sunday? We could drive
down to the coast.'
'I'm sorry. I'm going to my cousin's baby's chris-
tening on Sunday,' said Lani regretfully. 'How ab-
out lunch on Monday? The Mermaid at one o' dock.'
'I knew that dinner engagement was achieved too
easily,' muttered Miles gloomily. 'Your mother
doesn't want a third for dinner, does she? She
didn't ask you to bring a friend?'
'I'm afraid not.' Lani welcomed his wry humour.
'Is Monday okay? Or do you want a rain-check?'
'Don't try those Americanisms on me,' advised
Miles with reluctant amusement. 'No. Monday is
fine. The Mermaid at one. Be there.'
A venue Mews was near Buckingham Palace Car-
dens, a cul-de-sac opening off Belgrave Square; the
exclusive block of apartments was guarded day and
night by a handful of security men. Lani had to ha ve
her name checked and endorsed before she was

allowed to enter the lift, and her face was a little red
as she stepped inside. The last time she had come to
see her mother, she had been absorbed into a party
of people, all on their way up to the penthouse
floor, and she had not had to prove her identity to a
suspicious-eyed commissionaire. .
Her heart racing now, she looked down uneasily
at the clothes she was wearing. She had had no idea
how formal this affair was going to be, but mindful
of her mother' s suggestion that she wear something
pretty,she had chosen one of the simplest outfits in
her wardrobe. Her suit, of dark brown velvet, was
matched with a cream silk shirt, whose wide sleeves
complemented the severely cut lines of the waist-
coat, and as it was a cold evening, she was also
wearing a camel jacket. She was not a 'pretty' per-
son, she told herself determinedly, as the .metal
cylinder propelled her upwards .. She was just a
serious-minded working girl, and if Clare didn’t like
what she was wearing, then it was too bad.
She heard the sound of music and laughter long
before she reached Clare's door, and Lani's heart
sank. So it was to be a dinner party, after all. Not the
intimate little get-together Clare had first implied.
She wondered why she had be en invited. Clare had
never cared to do so in the past. She could only
assume that they had been one short for dinner, and
she had been her mother's final resort.
Ignoring the feeling of bitterness this realisation
aroused, Lani forced herself to ring the bell set ~o
one side of the double panelled doors. A maid
opened the door to her, more flushed than Lani
was herself, and ushered the girl inside without too
much ceremony. Lani recognised her from the last
time she'd been there, and she was relieved when
the woman used her name.
'Go right in, Miss St ]ohn,' she advised with a
harassed smile. 'Miss Austin is waiting for you.'
The blue and gold luxury of her mother' s drawing
room was a stage where Clare held court. A
moulded ceiling, walls hung with blue and gold
damask, alabaster pillars that framed the mirrors
with which Clare liked to surround herself-it was
every bit as dramatic as a scene from an Italian
opera, and it took quite an effort for Lani to step into
the room. Her mouth was dry, and she was con-
scious of being the cynosure of several pairs of eyes
as she hovered in the doorway. Her mother, sur-
rounded as usual by a group of admirers, hadn't
seen her, and it was left to Elwyn Hughes, her
manager to rescue the girl from the spotlight.
‘Lani,’ he said, getting up from a couch and
coming towards her. 'My dear, l hardly recognised
you. You’re quite a young lady now.'
Lani proffered a poli te smile. She was used to
Clare' s associates treating her like a schoolgirl.
Nevertheless, it took more of an effort this evening,
with the knowledge of why she was here scraping
like a knife across the sharp edge of her nerves.
‘I believe you’ve become a writer since I saw you
last, Elwyn went on, Cupping her elbow in his hand
and adroitly leading her across the room to where
her mother was standing. 'How clever of you! It
must be quite a thrill, actually seeing your work in
print.'
'They're only children's books.' Lani drew an
uneven breath. 'But, yes, I do find the work in-
teresting. '

'l'm sure you do.' Elwyn had gained his objective.

Expertly insinuating himself and his companion
into the group surrounding Clare, he said, ‘Your
little girl is here. Clare. Aren't you going to say
hello?'
Clare Austin turned almost too eagerly, Lani
thought, and the smile that enveloped the famous
Austin features seemed as artificial as the setting for
their meeting. Lani had the distinct impression that
Clare wanted her here no more than she wanted to
be here, and she knew an almost irresistible impulse
to turn tail and run.
'Lani!' Clare's greeting was so warm and friendly
that for a moment the girl thought she had be en
mistaken. But then she realised Clare was acting.
She was playing the part of the loving relative to
perfection, and Lani was expected to follow her
lead.
'Mother.' For the life of her Lani could not have
said Clare at that moment, and although her smile
wavered a little, Clare held out her arms invitingly.
'Darling.' she exclaimed, reaching out to enfold
her daughter in her grasp, and Lani was f orced to
return her embrace with every appearance of shar-
ing her affection: . ,
'I was just saying how Lani has changed,’ Elwyn
remarked, perhaps perceiving that the girl was
suddenly looking rather strained. Addressing Lani
again, he went on, 'It must be nearly three years
since you carne to see Clare at Covent Garden. I
remember it was a performance of La Bohem e.You
carne around to the dressing room afterwards.'
'What a memory you have, Elwyn.' Clare's words
did not sound complimentary, and he gave Lani a
wry grimace as her mother went on, 'But you're
late, Lani. I was beginning to think you weren't
coming.'
. 'Am I?' Lani' s tongue appeared to moisten her
lips as she cast a surreptitious glance about her. 'I'm
sorry. You'll have to blame your doorman. He
seemed to think I might be a gate-crasher.'
'That sounds like Craddock,' remarked a rather
languid young man, standing on Clare' s left. 'He
takes his work very seriously. One would almost
think he faced would-be intruders every day.'
'Craddock does a good job,' declared Clare short-
ly, clearly.not enamoured of this particular young
man. Casting another hurried look about her Lani
was relieved to find that the man she had expected
to see was no where in evidence. She must have
been wrong, she thought, breathing a little more
easily, and she responded a little more enthusiasti-
cally as her mother began to make introductions.
None of the people she was introduced to was
Jake Pendragon. Of the fifteen or twenty people in
the room, she met no one with a name even resem-
bling his, but in spite of the glass of champagne in
her hand, she could not banish the dryness in her
throat. Where was he? Surely it was inconceivable
after all the rumours, that he should not be here.
And yet, he wasn't. And Lani's disappointment
was as shattering as her relief.
'So--the little goose has turned into a swan '
remarked Clare dispassionately, when they briefly
found themselves alone. 'You've changed, Lani.
You re not as self-conscious as you used to be. I
don't know that I like it.'
'Perhaps you mean I'm not so gullible any more,'

murmured Lani carefully, and Clare' s expression

sharpened. 'Why did you invite me here this even-
ing, Mother? Oid you need me to make up the
numbers?'
Clare's laugh covered any embarrassment her
daughter' s words might have cause, but her lips
were thin when she responded. ‘You’re very astute,
Lani, but that's not why I invited you here. I wanted
you to come. I am your mother, after all, and
besides, I wanted to talk to you.
'To talk to me?' Lani was surprised. She and Clare
had seldom talked, even in the old days, and lt had
been her father she had always turned to in times of
Trouble. 'What about?'
'Well, darling, it's not that... simple,' exclaimed
Clare, schooling her impatience . 'It's so long since
we talked together. I don't feel that we’re... in
touch, if you know what I mean:'
'I'm sorry.' Lani found it difficult to feel any
sympathy for her mother's predicament. 'I-' she
paused a moment, and then rushed on hurriedly
'-I suppose it has to do with this man you brought
back from America.'
Clare's carefully pencilled brows arched. I didn’t
bring him back from America, darling.' she ex-
claimed tersely, but Lani guessed, nevertheless,
that she was right. 'He's quite capable of looking
after himself, believe me. However, you are correct
to assume that it is my personal life I want to
discuss.'
'Oh, really, Mother-' Lani turned her head away
tensely, wishing desperately that she had never
agreed to come, and by looking away, she was the
first to see the new arrival standing silently m the
open doorway, Tall, lean, dark-skinned-he was
not so different, actually, from the way he had
looked over six years ago, except that his clothes
were more expensive, his hair less unruly, his face
harder and more cynical than Lani had remem-
bered. Or would she remember such a thing, she
asked herself uneasily, She had been a child, a
teenager, unable to distinguish between sarcasm
and irony.
But she was not a child now, she was a woman
and the intensity of her gaze seemed to direct his
eyes to hers. She had not expected recognition; she
had not anticipated that he would remember the
inquisitive teenager who had invaded the privacy of
his home. And she was surprised when the tawny
eyes narrowed and a troubled frown drew a line
from his forehead to his nose. For what seemed an
age, but could only have be en a few seconds, they
stared at one another across the heads of the other
people in the room, and then someone else noticed
him, and his attention was distracted.
'Lani, are you listening-my God! Ja k e !'
Her mother, whose fingers had been squeezing
her forearm only moments before, suddenly saw
the newcomer too. Her hands fell from Lani' s arm
and without a word of explanation, she left he;
daughter to make her way across the room to Jake
Pendragon' s side. The rest of her guests fell back to
allow her progress, and Lani had an unwelcome
and unwanted sight of what happened next, Uncar-
ing that their meeting was being observed by every-
one el se in the room, Clare flung herself into his
arms, and as Lani watched dry mouthed, she kissed
him full on the lips.

'Didn't you know?' The low-voiced question

caused Lani to glance quickly at the man beside her,
and she met Elwyn Hughes' sympathetic gaze
blankly 'There' s been so much publicity about
them I felt sure you must have seen it, h e added
compassionately, 'Though I know for a fact, Clare
didn't expect Jake to be here tonight.
'She didn't?' .
Lani voiced the words through parched lips, and
Elwyn shook his head. 'He was supposed to be in
Cornwall, or so me such place. He has relatives
down there, I believe. In any event, Clare didn’t
anticipate his returning before tomorrow or Mon-
day.'
'I see.' Lani took a hasty mouthful of champagne
to try to ease the constriction in her throat, but.lt was
useless. Dear God, she prayed, don t let him re-
member me, p le a s e She
! couldn't bear to think of her
mother's amusement if he chose to .regale Clare
with the details of her humiliation at his hands.
'Are you all right?' ..
Elwyn was looking at Lani anxiously now, and
although she was grateful for his consideration, the
last thing she wanted was to attract any attention to
herself.
Tm fine-honestly,' she assured him, looking
down into the dregs in her glass. 'I-er-l expect
you're kept pretty busy, with---er-with Clare’s
engagements.' .
'Some.' Elwyn shrugged. 'She's giving a charity
performance at the Royal Opera House next Thurs-
day, but primarily she's here for more personal
reasons.'
'Oh ... yes?'
Lani managed a casual note of inquiry, but inside
she was sick with panic. She had to get out of here,
she thought, but she knew she couldn't, and hop-
ing against hope that Clare would forget all about
her, she turned so that she could no longer see
either her mother or the man with her.
'Yes.' Elwyn seemed to understand that she
would prefer him to go on talking. 'I know she
wanted to see both you and your father. She's very
proud of you, you know, though I have to say she
might not have been so pleased if you had suc-
ceeded in her field, if you know what I mean.'
He chuckled, and Lani forced a faint smile.
'And, of course, there's Jake's concert at the
Albert,' he continued flatly. 'She wouldn't miss
that.'
Lani nodded. 'He-he's a pianist, isn't he?'
Elwyn smiled. 'He's a genius, Lani, only don't
tell him I said so. Clare found him playing the
piano, believe it or not, In some nightclub in San
Diego.'
Lani took a deep breath. 'A nightclub?'
'That's right.' Elwyn shrugged. 'I guess it was
better than starving. just because you're good
doesn't necessarily mean you'll succeed.'
She stared at him. 'But-you said he was a
genius!'
'Lani, Pendragon's a realist. He knew the chances
of his making it big as a concert pianist without
backing were slim. He took the only job that was
offered to him.'
Lani was loath to ask questions, but she found
herself doing so. 'In this ... club?'
'That's right.'

'I see.' Lani swallowed hard. 'And ... and Clare,

of course, recognised his genius.'
Elwyn sighed. 'Look, kid, I know this must be
pretty tough for you to take, but it wasn't exactly
like that. I mean-well, your mother's still a beauti-
ful woman. She needs a man around. God help us,
I'd be that man, if she'd have me, but she doesn't
want me. She wants him, Pendragon, and whatever
else he is, he' s certainly a man.'
Lani put down her empty glass. 'Does she love
him?
'Well, she's crazy about him, if that's what you
mean,' remarked Elwyn drily. 'And he makes her
happy. If that's what it takes, who are we to judge?'
Lani shook her head. 'It' s nothing to do with me,
of course.'
'Isn't it? If Jake marries your mother, he'll be your
stepfather, won't he?'
Lani tried to focus on the lights of London, visible
through the undrawn blinds at the windows.
'They're planning on getting married?' she said
stiffly, and Elwyn shrugged.
'It's what she wants. It's what she's determined
to have. And if Jake wants his name in lights at
Carnegie Hall, then I guess he may find he wants it,
too.'
The appearance of a maid to announce that din-
ner was served prevented any further conversation,
and Lani was relieved to see that her mother and
Jake Pendragon had disappeared. Perhaps he was
leaving she thought. Perhaps it had only be en a
fleeting visit. But her stomach plunged unpleasant-
ly when she entered the dining room to find he was
standing at the head of the table beside her mother.
Unlike the other guests, he was not wearing a
tuxedo, but the bronze leather jacket he was wear-
ing over dark suede pants was not so out of place,
and Lani reflected that his brooding good looks
did not need a more formal outline. He was relax-
ed and indolent, completely at home with these
people whose in come alone set them apart from
him, and she found herself resenting his self-assur-
ance and the aura of influence that surrounded
him.
Clare was evidently instructing the maid to lay
another place beside her own at the long table, and
sickened by what she was witnessing, Lani was
glad when Elwyn pushed her into a seat at the
opposite end. 'I'll join you in a second,' he said,
waiting for the other women to be seated, and Lani
concentrated on the table in an effort to restore her
composure.
It was a beautifully set table, she had to admit.
Transparent bone china dinner plates, fine crystal
glassware, glittering cutlery; Minton, and Water-
ford, and English sterling silver, set about with
stiffly folded napkins, and a centrepiece of fragile
white orchids and scarlet rose mallow. There were
scarlet candles, too, burning in gleaming silver
sconces, and a single rase at every woman's place,
to enhance the romantic atmosphere already cre-
ated.
There was a moment's delay before everyone was
seated. Clare and her handsome pianist seemed to
be having a slight argument, but eventually it was
settled, and everyone sat down. With the serving of
the meal, Lani felt she could relax at last, and it was
disconcerting to lift her head and find Jake Pendra-

gon's eyes upon her once again. She looked away

immediately, but not before she had glimpsed that
faint look of inquiry in their depths, and the slight
smile that curved his lips went unanswered as she
deliberately ladled soup that was too hot into her
mouth.
'I expect Clare will introduce you later,' Elwyn
Hughes said at her elbow, intercepting the hurried
averting of her eyes and making the wrong assump-
tion. 'As I said earlier, I don't think your mother
wanted the two of you to meet this evening. I think
she thought it might be easier if she broke the news
to you first.'
Lani shook her head. 'It really doesn't matter,'
she assured him tautly, refusing to respond to his
conciliatory tone. 'I doubt that anything my mother
does can have any effect on me. We're little more
than strangers, Mr Hughes. I never realised that so
strongly until tonight.'
To her relief, Elwyn stopped talking after that,
and the young man seated on her right introduced
himself. It was he who had come to her defence over
the matter of the security guard, and although her
mother had told her his name earlier, she was glad
when he reminded her of it.
'Somers,' he said, 'Paul Somers. And you're
Clare's daughter, aren't you?' He grinned. 'Some-
how, I don't think our prima donna is too ena-
moured of that fact.'
Lani looked at him, intrigued in spite of herself,
and he made a rueful grimace. 'Well, you are a little
older than she had led us to believe, you know. And
taller, too. Quite a young Amazon, in fact.'
Lani controlled her colour with difficulty. 'Are
you an opera singer, too, Mr Somers?' she inquired
pointedly, and he laughed.
'I'm afraid not. I scrape a fiddle for a living,' he
confessed humorously. 'Do I look like a tenor or a
baritone with these lungs?'
He was very thin, and Lani found herself smiling.
'I' m sure you could do anything you wan ted,' she
responded lightly, and he inclined his head in mock
gratitude.
'You're very kind, but I don't have the tempera-
ment for it,' he assured her. 'You should hear the
rows that ensue in rehearsal. Or perhaps you
shouldn't. It would destroy your illusions for ever.'
Lani put down her spoon. 'Is my mother tempera-
mental?' she asked, and Paul glanced at her wryly.
'Don' t you know?'
'I'm afraid not. Since-since she and my father
divorced, I haven't seen much of her.'
Paul nodded. 'I see.' He gave her a whimsical
look. 'Well, let's say your mother is not as bad as
some.'
Lani bent her head. 'Have you known her long?'
'Your mother?' Paul shrugged. 'For the last five
years, I guess.'
'Do you travel with her?'
. 'Occasionally: When the whole company is in-
vited on tour. We went to South Africa last year, or
was it the year before?' He shook his head. 'She's
just returned from the States, but I suppose you
know that.'
'Yes.' Lani gave a brief smile to the waitress who
carne to remove her soup plate, and saw to her
dismay that Jake Pendragon was watching her
again. Dragging her eyes away, she fumbled with

the napkin on her knee, and was somewhat discon-

certed when Paul said:
'Have you met him?'
'Met whom?' Lani forced herself to meet the
young man's gaze, but she knew he knew she was
being evasive.
'Pendragon,' he said, flicking a glance to the other
end of the table. 'Our diva's latest protégé. I saw
you looking at him. I guess he's not what you
expected, is he?'
'I wasn' t-' Lani broke off, realising that to deny
she had been looking at Jake Pendragon was to put
too great an emphasis upon it. 'That is--no. No, I
haven't met him yet.' She paused. 'I-I suppose
you have.'
'Oh, sure.' Paul turned aside to help himself to
several lean slices of veal from the tray being offered
to him. 'Jake's okay. He's got real talent.'
'But not enough to make it on his own,' mur-
mured Lani tautly, taking only one small piece of
the meat, and Paul pulled a face.
'Now I wonder where you got that piece of gar-
bage from,’ he remarked softly, looking pointedly at
Elwyn Hughes, who was happily unaware of his
regard. 'Look, love, we're none of us perfect. We
have to take our chances with what we have. If you
see what I mean.'
Lani looked down at her plate. 'Oh, yes.' she
said, 'I see,.' and Paul sighed.
'Have some more wine,' he said, filling her fluted
glass. 'If Clare doesn't introduce you, I will. I want
you to know he' s not the bastard you seem to think
him.'
In the event, neither Clare nor Paul introduced
Lani and Jake. When dinner was over Clare
announced that coffee and liqueurs would be
served in the drawing room, and in the throng of
guests making their way through the double doors
out of the dining room, Lani suddenly found Jake
beside her. It was a heart-stopping moment when
she felt his shoulder brush against hers, and when
he turned to look at her, she wished the floor would
open up and swallow her. She glanced around
swiftly, but she couldn't see Paul Somers or Elwyn
Hughes, and she thought how typical it was that
this should happen when she was most vulnerable.
'Hi.'
Jake's softly spoken greeting forced her to be
polite, and schooling her nervous features she
offered him a stiff half smile. 'Hello.' she responded
formally.
Wishing the people ahead of them would move a
little faster, she broke out in a cold sweat when he
added, 'Don't I know you?'
He didn't remember!
As her startled gaze met his, she saw that
although he had seen something familiar in her
features, he had no idea who she was, and she
pressed her damp palms to her sides as she made
the perfect rejoinder.
'I-I'm Clare's daughter, Mr Pendragon,' she
said. 'Some people say I look a little like my mother!'
Although most people said quite the contrary, Lani
didn't care. It was imperative he should think that,
and surging ahead, she put as much space between
them as she could.
There was nowhere to sit down in the drawing
room, and after looking rather frantically about her,

Lani went to stand by the long windows. As soon as

the coffee had been served she would leave, she
thought determinedly, and then caught her breath
anew as a second reflection joined hers in the dark-
ened glass.
'Look, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you,' he said,
his lean mouth twisting attractively, and Lani's
nerves tightened afresh. 'I knew Clare had a daugh-
ter, but she-well, I guess I assumed you'd be just a
schoolgirl. I apologise. Do you forgive me?'
Lani had to look at him then, her green eyes
darting anxiously up at his dark face. Unlike most of
the men of her acquaintance, he was still a couple of
inches taller than she was, even in her high heels,
and she remembered how fragile Clare had looked
beside him. He was not heavily built, but he was
muscular, and if he had been indulged since he
carne under her mother's influence, it didn't show
in the lean powerful lines of his body. But thinking
of his body brought other images to mind, not least
those of him with Clare, and Lani felt her stomach
contract with something akin to revulsion when she
pictured them together.
'Well?' he said softly, and she felt as if someone
was rubbing sandpaper over her skin. 'Am I for-
given? I guess you thought I was being either ex-
tremely rude or extremely fresh at dinner. But your
face intrigued me.'
'It's not important.'
Lani said the words hastily, suddenly realising
that their conversation was being observed by more
than a dozen pairs of eyes. Where was her mother,
she wondered uneasily. She had the feeling Clare
would not approve of this liaison, and she wished
they were not so conspicuously placed by the win-
dow.
'Isn't it?' Jake was saying now. 'I rather thought it
was.' His mouth curved drily. 'It seems obvious that
something is bugging you, and if it's not that what
can it be?' ,
The tawny eyes were disturbingly intent, the
thickness. of his lashes hardly concealing their cat-
like scrutiny, and Lani felt the warm colour sweep-
ing up her throat and into her face. 'I don't know
what you mean,' Mr Pendragon,' she asserted
stiffly, imagining how her embarrassment might
look to other people, and as she prayed for deliver-
ance, it carne in the silk-clad person of her mother.
Clare appeared in the doorway, giving every im-
pression of having been searching for something-
or someone-and having found it in the least likely
place. She crossed the room towards her daughter
and Jake with antagonism exuding from every pore,
and Lani knew that her earlier apprehension had
not been misplaced.
'So there you are,' Clare said tightly, and Lani had
no illusions as to which of them she was addressing.
'I've been looking everywhere for you.'
'Oh?' Jake turned to her with what Lani had to
admit was admirable panache. 'Well-where else
would I be but here, making myself agreeable to
your guests?'
'My guests!'Clare cast a scathing glance at Lani.
'Your daughter then,' affirmed Jake, without
emphasis. 'You didn’t tell me she was here.'
'I was going to.' Clare took a deep calming breath.
'Get me a coffee, will you, Lani? Just ask Ethel and
she'll-'

'Lanil'
Jake's harsh interjection overrode her request,
but the girl didn't wait to see if he had connected the
two coincidences. With a feeling of impending dis-
aster she left them crossing to where the maid who
had admitted her was dispensing coffee from a
trolley. After asking her to take a cup to her mother,
Lani walked slowly but purposefully to the door
and, collecting her coat from the hall, she let herself
out of the apartment.

CHAPTER FOUR

LANI awakened early the next morning, unusually

early considering how late it had been before she
had fallen asleep, and she lay there realising she
had no desire to get out of bed. It would be so much
safer to stay in her room, she reflected miserably,
anticipating the reprimand that was bound to come,
and she closed her eyes tightly as if to shut out the
demands of the outside world. If that outside world
was bounded by the liaison between her mother
and Jake Pendragon, it was no less hostile for that,
and she dreaded the prospect of facing up to her
cowardice.
What must her mother' s guests have thought of
her last night, she agonised. What must her mother
have thought when she walked out? What must
Jake Pendragon have made of her childish be-
haviour? It had been a reckless, irresponsible im-
pulse that had sent her fleeing from the party, and
she was quite prepared to admit that Clare had
every reason to be furious with her.
Rolling on to her stomach, she rested her elbows
on the pillows and propped her chin in her hands.
Lying to her father had been equally as bad. But
when she had returned home to find him waiting
for her, she had not had the heart to admit the truth
even to him. How could she ha ve told him she had
already met her mother's lover before last night?
How could she have explained her desire to es-
cape? How could she have confessed that seeing
them together had filled her with repugnance-
not just because Clare was her mother, but b~-
cause of the feelings Jake Pendragon aroused m
her!
So she had lied to him. She had said she had had
an interesting evening and that Clare had been
pleased to see her. She had not mentioned Jake, or
the fact that he had arrived unexpectedly at the
party: she had confined her story to descriptions of
the apartment and the food, and how well her
mother was looking. When her father had com-
mented that she was home earlier than he had
expected, she had admitted to having a headache-
which was no lie by then-and although her father
was very sympathetic and insisted ~hat she went
straight to bed, Lani had had the feeling he was not
displeased that she had evidently found the affair
rather taxing.
Expelling her breath on a sigh, Lani pushed her-
self up and out of the bed. It was Sunday, she
realised belatedly. Sarah and Robin were expecting
her at their house for lunch, and afterwards she was
to be godmother at the christening. Although she
wasn't really in the mood to be sociable, at least she
would get out of the house, she thought gratefully,
and ignoring her downcast mood, she sauntered
across the bedroom into her bathroom.
Her father was having breakfast in the morning
room when Lani went downstairs, taking his time
as he scanned the Sunday papers. He looked up in
surprise when his daughter carne in, already dres-
sed to go out, and his eyes flicked her fine tweed
trouser-suit appraisingly. and alighted on the dark
green velvet cap with its swinging tassel in her
hand.
'Going somewhere?' he inquired, his brows
drawing together as he spoke, and Lani subsided
into the chair opposite him before replying.
'It's the christening today.' she said, reaching for
the coffee pot. 'Robin's and Sarah's baby, remem-
ber? I'm to be godmother.'
'Dressed like that?' queried her father dispara-
gingly. 'What time did you tell them you' d be there?
Ten o'dock?'
'No. About noon, actually,' admitted Lani self-
consciously. 'But-well, I thought I might leave a
little early.'
'A little early?' Her father snorted. 'It' S barely
nine o'clock. It doesn't take three hours to get to
Chalfont.'
'I know it doesn't.' Lani stirred sugar into her
coffee. 'But, it's such a nice morning, I thought I
might make a detour. I want to do some preliminary
sketches for the new book.' _ .
'Are you sure you haven't arranged to see your
mother again?' inquired her father dourly, looking
at her over the top of his newspaper. 'Is that what
this is really about?'
'No.' But Lani's colour was high nevertheless.
'Really, I've got no plans to see Clare again.' She
paused, and then went on determinedly, 'After last
night, I doubt if she'll want to see me.'
'Last night?' Her father frowned, folding his
newspaper and laying it aside. 'What happened last
night? I thought you had enjoyed yourself.'
'I-well, I did, I suppose,' murmured Lani un-
happily. 'But-well, when dinner was over I left.'
'I know. You told me.' Her father looked per-
plexed, and Lani sighed.
'No, you don't understand,' she said. 'I left with-
out telling Clare I was leaving. Oh-don't ask me
why. I just didn't want to stay any longer.'
Roger St John leaned towards her. 'Was h e there?
The pianist?' Lani nodded. 'Did your mother intro-
duceyou?' .
'In a manner of speaking.' Lani had no desire to
get involved with that. 'Oh, I suppose I didn't feel
comfortable, that's all. I wanted you to know, m
case. . . well, in case she rings today.'
'I see.' Her father studied her thoughtfully. 'And
is that why you're making an early start this morn-
ing? Because you're afraid of what your mother
might say to you?' . . ,,
'Not afraid exactly.' Lani sipped her coffee. Id
just rather not speak to her at all.'
'Hmm.' Roger St John shook his head. 'You
know, Lani, I find it hard to believe that you're
telling me everything. Something happened last
night, didn't it? Something you saw or overheard.
Can't you tell me what it was? I am your father,
my dear, and I happen to care about you very
much.'
'Oh, Daddyl' Lani avoided his eyes. 'Nothing
happened. honestly. I-I suppose I was jealous.
When-when Jake Pendragon appeared, she had
no time for anyone else. I guess that was it.'
'And I suppose she told you they're going to get
married, didn't she?' exclaimed her father bitterly.
"There' s no fool like an old fool, so they say.'
'Daddy, Clare's not old,' said Lani flatly. 'She
doesn't look a day over thirty. But, please, let's talk
about something else, can we? I'm a little sick of the
whole affair.'
The telephone rang as Lani was on the point of
leaving the house. She was actually in the hall,
pulling on her leather driving gloves, when its shrill
sound split the silence, and realising her father was
out of doors, attending to the plants in his green-
house, she waited with some trepidation for Mrs
Evans to answer it. But either that lady knew Lani
had not yet left or she too was tied up with some-
thing else, because no one appeared, and it was left
to Lani to wonder exactly who was trying to reach
them. It could be Clare, but it could also be any one
of a dozen other people, and realising that it might
even be Robin or Sarah phoning to change the
arrangements, Lani reluctantly gave in.
'Hello,' she said, picking up the receiver.
She nearly dropped it again when a low mascu-
line voice said, 'Lani? It' s Jake Pendragon. l' d like to
see you some time today. Is that possible?'
'No! No, I'm afraid it's not.' Lani was briefly
tempted to hang up, but then added, 'I'm sorry. I'm
just going out. Goodb--'
'Wait!' The word was uttered with rather more
emphasis than his previous statement had been.
'La ni, don't hang up. If we can't meet today, it will
ha ve to be tomorrow. I'll try and fit it in between-'
'Don't bother.' Lani took an unsteady breath. 'If
Clare' s asked you to ring me-'
'Dammit, Clare has nothing to do with this,' he
retorted, his voice roughening with impatience. 'No
doubt she'll be contacting you herself la ter today,
but right now, this has to do with you and me. Only
that. Now, can we meet?'
'I'm afraid not.' In spite of herself, Lani's voice
was annoyingly tremulous. 'I-I'll be tied up all
day. It was nice of you to phone, Mr Pendragon-'
'It was not nice at all,' he snapped, his temper
threading. 'Lani-'
'Goodbye, Mr Pendragon,' she said firmly, and
without giving him another opportunity to speak,
she rang off.
She stood for several minutes in the hall after she
had replaced the receiver, feeling too shaken to
move. But when the phone began to ring again, she
snatched up her bag and her portfolio and quickly
put herself beyond temptation. As she backed her
Capri out of the garage, she could still hear its
persistent peal, but nothing could have persuaded
her to turn back.
On Monday Lani met Miles for lunch at the Mer-
maid as planned and basked in the welcome glow of
his uncomplicated admiration. 'You're looking
great,' he added, after they were seated at a cosy
table for two. 'A bit tired perhaps, but that' s only to
be expected. Coping with jet lag can be really ex-
hausting.'
'Yes.' Lani wondered what Miles would say if she
told him that it wasn't jet lag that was giving her
sleepless nights. Her father had told her that Clare
had rung while she was at Robin' s and Sarah' s the
previous day, and what with that and Jake Pendra-
gon' s phone call, Lani was finding it hard to relax.
'So, how was the dinner party?' inquired Miles,
after they had successfully disposed of Lani' s busi-
ness trip to New York. 'Was it worth standing me
up for?'
'No.' Lani's grimace was ironic. 'As a matter of
fact, l' d much rather have had dinner with you. But
it is some time since Clare was in England-'
'-and you felt obliged to play the dutiful daugh-
ter.'
'Something like that.' Lani's fingers were ner-
vously twisting the stem of her wineglass as she
spoke. 'Let's not talk about Clare. I get enough of
that from Oaddy.'
Miles frowned, his eyes on her slim fingers. 'I get
the feeling it wasn't a great success,' he remarked,
and Lani met his gaze briefly.
'It wasn't,' she agreed. 'It was all rather a bore
really. I much prefer to mix with people who are not
so artificial.'
Miles looked as though he would have liked to
question her further, but Lani's expression was
discouraging. Instead he asked about the christen-
ing, and she was able to tell him unreservedly that
she had enjoyed herself very much.
'The baby's a darling,' she exclaimed enthusiasti-
cally. 'They've named her Helen, after Sarah's
mother.' She smiled reminiscently. 'The twins were
a little jealous of all the attention she was getting, of
course, but that's only to be expected.'
Miles regarded her warmly. 'Y ou sound as if
you're envious,' he said, and Lani smiled.
'Perhaps I am. Though not of the married state,'
she added firmly, just in case Miles was becoming
serious. 'I don't think marriage is such a good idea
for someone like me. I-I'm too independent.'
'What you mean is, your parents' divorce has
made you scared to make a commitment,' he de-
clared. 'You'd make an ideal wife and mother.
Believe me, you're not a bit like Clare Austin.'
Lani sighed. 'How would you know, Miles?
You've never met my mother.'
'No, but I've read plenty about her,' replied Miles
staunchly. 'But as you say, let's not talk about her.
Tell me about the new book. Have you done those
preliminary sketches yet? I think it's a good idea to
introduce a new character. Have you got any Idea
what you're going to call it?'
The remainder of the meal was taken up with
discussing Lani' s work, much to her relief, and
when they emerged from the restaurant into the
chilly atmosphere of the November day, she was
not disposed to linger.
'I'll ring you,' she said, wrapping the folds of her
cape around her. 'Give me a few days to get some-
thing down on paper, and I'll be in touch.'
'Okay.' Miles regarded her resignedly. 'But don't
take too long, will you? l' d like to see you again
before Christmas.'
Lani smiled and looked away, her long hair lifting
in the cold wind. Then, seeing her bus approaching
along Piccadilly, she waved goodbye, and holding
her velvet cap in place, she ran to catch it.
The bus dropped her at the junction of Finchley
Road and Glendower Street, and she walked quick-
ly along the side road that led to Pelham Court. She
was glad she was wearing a trouser-suit and not a
skirt as the wind whistled about her booted ankles,
and she was looking forward to getting home and
settling in front of her easel. She was fortunate in
being able to work at home, she thought, recalling
her father with affection. He had had one of the four
bedrooms converted into a studio for her; its long
windows, which overlooked the walled garden at
the back of the house, and square skylight provided
ample light for both her writing and her drawing.
She became aware of the car cruising beside her
only seconds before she reached Pelham Court, and
her head whipped around swiftly as the vehicle
carne to a halt. It was quiet in Glendower Street at
this hour of the afternoon, and although she was
not particularly nervous of being out alone, there
had been a spate of muggings lately, which had
aroused a lot of concern. But the car was not the
kind of car a thief might use, she saw at once. It was
a dark green Porsche, low and sleek and expensive,
and the man getting out from behind the wheel was
disturbingly familiar.
Realising that attack was probably the best
method of defence, Lani gave him her most haugh-
ty look. 'Are you following me?' she exclaimed, her
arms holding the cape about her, giving her a de-
fensive appearance. But Jake Pendragon did not
seem to notice as he sauntered round the car.
He was wearing black today, a fine-grained
corded jacket and matching trousers, his pale lilac-
coloured shirt providing the only lighter touch. He
didn't appear to feel the cold as she did, although
that might have been due in part to the black waist-
coat, half buttoned beneath his jacket. The wind
played riot with his hair, depositing thick dark
strands across his forehead.
Dear God, thought Lani, hugging her bag against
her like a shield. What was he doing here? What did
he want? Did Clare know he was haunting her like
this, or had he kept his unwelcome interest to
himself?
'I've been waiting for you,' he said now, watching
her with a level, catlike appraisal. 'You look cold.
Do you want to get in the car? Or would you rather
we spoke here, where anyone can eavesdrop on our
conversation ?'
'I-I don' t see that we have anything to say to one
another,' declared Lani, after a moment. 'How did
you know where I was? How did you know I'd be
coming back at this time?'
'When I phoned earlier, your housekeeper told
me you were out. I didn't believe her at first, but
then she said you' d probably be back later this after-
noon, and I decided that she'd hardly tell me that if
you had told her to put me off.'
'You rang,' choked Lani. 'You rang my home
again?' She stared at him resentfully. 'Did-did you
tell Mrs Evans who you were?'
'Oh, sure, I told her I was John Smith,' replied
Jake sardonically. 'Don't worry. I didn't tell her my
name was Pendragon. I guessed, after the publicity
there's been, that my name isn't exactly the flavour
of the month with your father.'
Lani stiffened her shoulders. 'How dare you?' she
exclaimed. 'How dare you come here, pestering me!
Have you no decency? Have you no shame? We
have nothing to say to one another, Mr Pendragon.
Please, let me pass.'
'Not yet.' Jake's hand was against the wall to one
side of her, preventing her from getting past him,
and when she moved to evade him, he stepped into
her path. 'Look, cool down, will you?' he said, his
impatience quickening at her resistance. 'I don't
have to explain my actions to you. What I choose to
do with my life is my affair. But, you ... well, I
wanted you to know that I had no idea Clare was
your mother.'
'Why should you have?' Lani's voice was cold
and unyielding. 'And what does it matter anyway?
We hardly know one another.'
'But we do know one another, don't we?' Jake
persisted roughly. 'When I saw you on Saturday
night, I knew there was something familiar about
you. Then when Clare called you Lani-' He
sighed. 'Was that why you walked out?'
'You flatter yourself!'
Lani moved to get past him again, but this time
Jake's hand on her shoulder, a lean long-fingered
hand, prevented her. 'I don' t flatter myself at all,' he
snapped, the tawny eyes glittering dangerously.
'But if you persist in behaving like a spoilt child, I
may begin to think you are jealous, after all.'
Lani caught her breath. 'You're hurting me.'
'I can hurt you a hell of a lot more than this,' he
told her grimly. 'Oh, for Christ's sake-' he let her
go abruptly'-I don't know why I bothered coming
here. It's obvious you're not prepared to behave
reasonably. Go on. Go home. I'm sorry I detained
you.'
Lani was trembling as she moved past him, con-
scious of his eyes watching her until she turned the
comer into Pelham Court. Then, as she hurried
across the small square, she heard the powerful roar
of the Porsche's engine, and seconds later the
draught of its passing sent the leaves scattering in
her path.
Clare rang again that evening, and this time Lani
had no excuse for not speaking to her. Leaving her
father at the dinner table, she went out into the hall
to take the call, closing the dining-room door be-
hind her as a precautionary measure.
'Well! So you finally deign to come to the phone,
do you?' Clare's first words were disparaging. 'Just
what the hell did you think you were playing at the
other evening? Have you any idea of the embarrass-
ment you caused?'
'I'm sorry, Mother-'
'Sorry? Sorry? You haven't even had the decency
to ring and make your apologies. You wait until I get
in touch with you, and then pretend that you care
howl feel!'
'I do care, Mother.' Lani caught her lower lip
between her teeth for a moment. 'It . . . it was an
unforgivable thing to do, and I am sorry. Put it
down to the fact that I felt-well, out of place there. I
was on my own. I didn't know anyone. And I just
... ran away, I guess.'
'You knew Elwyn. You knew Paul Somers. Or at
least, he told me he had been chatting with you.
And Jake spoke to you. Wasn't that enough?'
'Oh, I suppose so.' Lani's knees felt decidedly
unsteady I hearing her mother speak Jake' s name. 'It
was a silly thing to do. I admit it. I'm sure none of
your friends blamed you for my foolishness.'
'Hmm.' Clare sounded unconvinced, but she had
mellowed slightly, and presently she said, 'I realise
what was wrong, you know,' causing Lani's legs to
give out altogether, so that she sank down weakly
on to the chest her grandfather had brought home
from Africa.
'You do?'
'Of course.' Clare made a sound of impatience. 'It
was meeting Jake, wasn't it? Realising that your
father and I are completely washed up. It upset you.
I was afraid it might. But you're not a child now,
Lani, you're an adult, and you have to face up to
these things.'
'Mother-'
'No. Let me finish.' Clare was determined to have
her say. 'lt was precipitate, I know. I had planned to
talk to you about . . . well, about Jake, but his
turning up like that really threw me. He had gone
down to Cornwall. His grandmother still lives
there, and I hadn't expected him back until Sunday.
Well, as you know, he arrived, and I'm afraid I
neglected everyone after that.'
'There' s really no need to tell me this,' said Lani
faintly, feeling sick, but Clare ignored her.
'Anyway,' she went on, 'now that you've met, it
does make things easier. I want you and he to be
friends, Lani. I mean-it's important to me that the
two people I care about most should get along
together. I know your father probably won't agree,
but you mustn't let his influence spoil our rela-
tionship. And to that end, I want you to join my
guests at the Royal Albert Hall on Thursday even-
ing. Jake is giving his recital, and afterwards, we're
all going to have supper at Mancini's.'

CHAPTER FIVE

THE huge concert hall was hushed and still as t~e

wistful melody which had continually threaded its
way through Rachmaninov's second concerto drew
to its final crescendo, and Lani, motionless m her
seat, felt as if every bone in her body had turned to
water.lt was so beautiful, so moving, so passionate-
ly performed that she felt as if she was hearing it for
the first time. The romantic lyricism of the compos-
er's work, the vein of melancholy that made the
piece so haunting, seemed to have touched a re-
sponsive chord in si de her, and the resentment and
apprehension she had felt at the start of the evening
had given way to a sensuous languor. Jake’s playing
had done that, his skill and sensitivity, the brilliant
command he had of the instrument, draining every
nuance of emotion from the keyboard. The applause
started the second the final notes died away, and it
was deafening. Lani, aware that her mother had
risen to her feet beside her and was clapping louder
than anyone, knew she should be applauding too,
but she was still too bemused to take part. With a
feeling half of impatience, she felt the dampness of a
tear against her cheek and, brushing the unwanted
betrayal aside, she rose abruptly to join in the
ovation.
Fortunately, Clare was not aware of her right
then and Lani was able to look down at Jake, taking
his bow, without observation. In formal evening
clothes he looked more attractive than ever, and she
wondered how many of the young girls there had
come for the music and how many merely to see
him. He had the lean hungry appeal of a pop star,
she thought, despising herself for being seduced by
his talent, and she was glad he could not possibly
see her among so many avid faces.
Taking her seat again as the young virtuoso left
the platform, Lani faced her mother's challenging
expression. 'Well?' said Clare impatiently. 'What
did you think? Isn't he magnificent? Don't you envy
him his talent?'
Lani had a few moments to gather her composure
as other members of Clare' s party interjected their
own comments. 'He certainly can play that instru-
ment,' commented Celia Nevill, one of Clare's
American friends. "Those hands-don't they abso-
lutely draw blood from the music! I shall never
shake hands with him again without thinking about
that.'
'I don't suppose Clare thinks about his playing
when he has his hands on her,' drawled Celia's
husband suggestively, and then said, 'Pardon me!'
in an aggrieved tone when his wife grimaced
pointedly in Lani's direction.
Clare ignored them both, waiting irritably for her
daughter's reaction, and summoning a note of in-
difference, Lani agreed that he was good.
'Good! Good! What kind of a word is that?' Clare
demanded furiously. 'He's fantastic! Brilliant! He's
been compared to so me of the most famous pianists
that have ever lived, and you say he's good!Don't
you have any conception? Don't you have any
feeling for the music at all? For heaven's sake, Lani,
I expected better of you. Can' t you recognise genius
when you hear it?'
Lani's face was scarlet, but she managed to con-
trol her feelings. If she were to tell her mother
exactly how much Jake's playing had affected her,
she would be betraying both her father and herself,
and in any case, Clare only wanted confirmation
that she was right.
'He is brilliant,' she admitted quietly. 'The audi-
ence have demonstrated that. You could have heard
a pin drop while he was playing, and I should think
the critics will find it difficult to fault his perform-
ance.'
'I agree.' Elwyn Hughes, who had been silent up
to this point, leant across to smile at Lani. 'My guess
is he' s going to be swamped with offers after this.
You're not going to see much of him, Clare, if he
gets taken up by the media.'
Clare's red lips thinned slightly. 'Oh, I shouldn't
worry about that, Elwyn. I'll make sure he always
has time for me. After all, I discovered him. And I'm
not about to let him forget it.'
The remainder of the performance was an anti-
climax for Lani. Jake returned to play three Rach-
maninov preludes, but they did not have the depth
or the passion of the concerto, and although he
performed with style and elegance, she was all too
conscious of Clare beside her, basking in his
reflected glory.
After the recital was over, Lani was obliged to
accompany Elwyn and the rest of Clare' s party to
the restaurant, where they were to have a celebra-
tory supper. Clare slipped away after the perform-
ance, to visit Jake in his dressing room, and Lani's
nerves were tight as she got into the back of Elwyn' s
Rover for the short drive to Mancini' s.
'Your mother won't be long,' he assured her,
catching sight of her white face in the rear-view
mirror, and Lani forced a faint smile, wishing des-
perately that she didn't have to go.
Mancini' s was a large ostentatious restaurant,
whose clientele was drawn primarily from those
employed in the arts. It occupied the basement of a
building in Knightsbridge, and as they descended
the steps, Lani could smell the aromas of good food,
good tobacco, and expensive perfume. She had
never been there before and she looked about her
rather apprehensively as the doorman helped her to
remove her cape. Then Elwyn linked his arm with
hers, and led her across the room to their table.
Because a small combo was playing in one corner,
people tended to speak more loudly to make them-
selves heard, and at this hour of the evening, a haze
of blue smoke hung over the tables. One or two
couples gyrated on the small dance floor, set at a
lower level than the restaurant itself, and the atmos-
phere was hardly conducive to improving the slight
throbbing Lani had developed in her temples.
The table was set for eight: Lani and Elwyn, the
Nevills, and two other guests of her mother's that
Lani had known for a number of years. Elwyn got
everybody seated and then asked what she would
like to drink, and although she sensed his displea-
sure, Lani refused to have anything alcoholic. 'I-I
have to work tomorrow,' she explained, not want-
ing to admit to having a headache, and Elwyn
expelled his breath somewhat impatiently before
asking what the others would like.
There were dishes of páté on the table, and while
they waited for Clare and Jake to join them, Elwyn
accepted a finger of toast from the napkin the waiter
proffered and spread it thickly with the rich paste.
'Come on.' he said to Lani. 'Have some. There's
nothing alcoholic about this.' But Lani made a polite
refusal. In all honesty she had no appetite at all, and
she was not looking forward to the supper ahead.
Her mother arrived about twenty minutes later,
Jake having shed his tail coat for a soft velvet dinner
jacket, the wine-red fabric of which complemented
his dark good looks. Contrary to Lam s expecta-
tions, however, he did not appear to be in the same
state of euphoria as her mother. Instead, he looked
drained and rather tired, as if the emotion of the
concerto had exhausted him. She had been dread-
ing meeting him again after the way they had parted
four days ago, but Jake scarcely looked at her. He
accepted the group' s congratulations without com-
ment before flinging himself into the chair at the
opposite end of the table, and it was left to Clare to
summon the head-waiter and order the best cham-
pagne.
'We must have a toast;' she said, vividly con-
fident as she took the chair next to him. 'You were a
success, darling. You excelled yourself. Come
along, stop looking so moody. I won't have you
spoiling this night of all nights.'
'You have a toast,' declared Jake flatly. summon-
ing another waiter. 'Scotch.' he said, when the man
appeared. 'With ice. A large one,. Thank you.'
Lani saw the way her mother s mouth tightened
at this deliberate flouting of her arrangements, but
evidently she was prepared to forgive him, for the
momentary impatience was soon erased. With sup-
reme panache, she took her champagne when it
carne and toasted him anyway, and Jake's brooding
expression gave way to a reluctant acknowledg-
ment.
'You were wonderful,' exclaimed Celia Nevill,
leaning across the table to touch his hand as it lay
beside his glass. 'We all envy you, Jake. It must be
so satisfying to know you've given a perfect per-
formance.'
'It wasn't a perfect performance,' replied Jake
shortly, loosening the top button of his shirt and
pulling his tie free. 'I messed up the adagio, and I
finished the second movement ahead of the or-
chestra. There was nothing very satisfying about
that!'
'You're being hypercritical,' said Clare testily.
'No one else will have noticed.'
'I beg to differ,' retorted Jake, the air of brooding
malevolence returning to his expression, and Lani
saw her mother give a restless sigh.
'Jake, even Malcolm Seymour complimented you
upon your performance,' she exclaimed. 'And be-
lieve me, he doesn't do that for every struggling
artist.'
'Oh, thank you, Clare.' Jake spoke the words
succinctly, his mouth twisting with sudden irony.
'It's so nice of you to remind me that I am just a
struggling artist. That puts everything into perspec-
tive, doesn't it?'
He lifted his hand and attracted the waiter's
attention again, and when the man carne, he gave
him a dazzling smile. 'Another double, maestro,
please,' he ordered, with devastating aplomb, and
Lani looked away in hot embarrassment when
Clare's blue eyes filled with tears. .
'You really are a beast, Jake;' Clare choked, pull-
ing a handkerchief out of her bag to dab her eyes,
and Elwyn made a big thing of pouring everyone
more champagne to cover the unpleasant silence.
Even Lani had been obliged to accept some of the
champagne to toast Jake' s success, and she was glad
of the glass now to hide her consternation.
Supper was served soon afterwards, a mouth-
watering repast of smoked salmon and caviare,
slices of chicken cooked in wine and cream, and
a concoction of fruit and spun sugar that was
flavoured with white rum. It was a rich meal, seem-
ing the more so by the lateness of the hour, and Lani
noticed inconsequently that Jake ate no more than
she did.
However, he did seem to recover his spirits as the
meal progressed, and she decided rather caustically
that the amount of alcohol he had drunk was prob-
ably responsible. Not that it had any visible effect on
him, only in the way it removed the lines of dissatis-
faction from his face, and made his temperament
less volatile. He spoke quite amiably with Elwyn
and the Nevills, reviewing his performance quite
objectively now with Clare and Maggie Pringle, her
private secretary, and it was left to Adrian Dante to
make Lani feel not left out.
Adrian was Clare's accompanist on those occa-
sions when she gave a solo performance, and as he
had been around since before the divorce, Lani felt
quite at ease with him. But her headache was not
getting any better, and when Jake and her mother
got up to dance, she mentioned the fact to Maggie.
'Oh, that's a shame,' declared the older woman
sympathetically, patting Lani's sleeve with purple-
tipped fingers. At least as old as her mother, Maggie
did not have Clare's age-defying vitality, and at this
hour of the night, her heavily made-up features
looked haggard and ugly.
What am I doing here, thought Lani suddenly,
looking about her with desperate eyes. It was ob-
vious that Maggie' s sympathy did not extend to
suggesting she should leave, and while she had
be en prepared to stay for supper, there was no
earthly reason now why Lani should remain. But
Maggie would do nothing to offend Lani's mother,
and Clare had not yet given her permission to
depart. Until she did, she was obliged to sit there, a
part, yet not a part, of this celebration.
Her eyes turned irresistibly towards the dance
fIoor. Jake and her mother had been joined by
several other couples, and the small area was
crowded. As she watched, Clare lifted her hand to
cup Jake' s cheek, and Lani looked away abruptly
before he could turn his mou th against her mother' s
caressing palm.
When they returned to the table, she barely
looked at them, and Clare, noticing her daughter's
preoccupation, beckoned her. 'Come and join us,
Lani,' she exclaimed, her hand resting possessively
on Jake's sleeve, and although she was loath to do
so, Lani had very little choice in the matter.
'So,' said her mother, after Clark Nevill had
moved obligingly along the table, 'Lani thought
your performance was superb, didn't you, darling?'
Lani moistened her dry lips. 'Oh-yes,' she mur-
mured, aware of those curiously-coloured eyes nar-
rowed upon her. 'I'm sure you've had a great suc-
cess. Everyone seemed ... delighted.'
'Better than finishing on a discord, hmm?' Jake
remarked drily, and Lani's colour deepened at the
deliberate insinuation.
'What do you mean?' Clare frowned, and Jake
withdrew his arm from beneath her fingers to
swallow the remainder of the 5cotch in his glass.
'I guess I'm getting moronic,' he said carelessly,
setting the glass down again, and Lani shifted un-
easily beneath his challenging stare.
'Come and dance with me, Clare.' As usual,
Elwyn defused the situation, drawing her out of her
seat imperatively, causing her to glance up at him
half-protestingly.
'I don't want to dance,' she exclaimed, but her
denial was half-hearted, and chivvying her along,
Elwyn led her down to the dance floor.
Left with Jake, Lani did not know where to look or
what to say, and after viewing her evident embar-
rassment for several unnerving minutes, he laid a
hand on her wrist.
'Let's join them, shall we?' he inquired, in a low
taut voice, and twisting her wrist almost ruthlessly
behind her, he drew her up out of her seat.
5hort of creating a scene, she had to go with him,
but once on the circular dance floor, she freed her
wrist determinedly. However, it only served to
make it easier for him to put his arms about her, and
her hands pressed futilely against the ruffled silk of
his dress shirt as he drew her swiftly towards him.
'I don't want to dance with you,' she hissed, in a
low tone, meeting his enigmatic gaze with angry
resentment, 'Why are you doing this? You don't
Want to dance with me, either. And why did you try
to embarrass me just now by talking about 'your
treatment of Chopin?'
'So you remember,' he commented, his hands
resting with deceptive lightness at her waist, and as
they were obliged to move to the seductive rhythm
of the group or be trampled underfoot, Lani shook
her head impatiently as she followed his lead.
'Why shouldn't I remember?' she protested,
avoiding his eyes and focusing on the ivory fall of
lace of his throat. 'You were quite rude, as I recall.'
5he paused. 'Have you told Clare about that little
encounter, or are you saving it for some more
intimate occasion?'
His hands clutched her waist with sudden viol-
ence at her scathing words, and Lani was glad she
was not wearing a low-cut gown. The cream silk
jersey, with its loose cowl neckline and elbow-
length sleeves, had seemed a suitable compromise
between day and evening wear, and she was grate-
ful now for its protection as his fingers bit into her
flesh.
'Why should I tell Clare that we've met before?'
he demanded harshly, and Lani winced as his bruis-
ing hold brought her painfully close to the taut
muscles of his thighs. 'As I recall it, you were quite
provocative. Not at all like the passionless puritan
you've grown up to be!'
Lani caught her breath in stunned indignation,
but Jake's expression was unrepentant. 5he stared
at him furiously, willing him to retract his insulting
statement, but as she did so, she could feel the
disturbing pressure of sinew and bone assaulting
her flesh, and her blood quickened unwillingly as
awareness flared between them. He was too close,
she thought unsteadily. She was much too con-
scious of the heat of his body, of the warmth of his
breath, and the musky male scent he was exuding
as he continued to use all his strength to overcome
her resistance. Around them, the other dancers
moved in undisturbed formation, totally unaware
of the silent conflict that was ensuing. But Lani,
troubled by her own vulnerability, sought any
weapon she could as she struggled to prevail.
'You-you-you're despicable!' she choked, fall-
ing back on the only resort left to her, and Jake
shook his head.
. 'No, I'm not,' he contradicted her evenly, his eyes
diminishing her defiance. 'But right now isn't the
time to debate this, is it, and unless you want your
mother to overhear us, I suggest you pull yourself
together.'
'Me? Pull myself together?'
Lani practically squeaked the words, but then, all
of a sudden, her opposition crumbled. He was
right, she thought dully. She was treating him
unfairly. It was her own unwilling attraction to him
that was driving her to these lengths, and with a
feeling of desperation she gave up the unequal
battle.
Jake's hold on her gentled as she stopped resist-
ing him, but the abrupt reversal of their roles
brought her closer still. The sudden pressure of her
face against the fine silk covering his chest made her
intensely aware of the controlled power beneath
that soft exterior, and before she could draw back,
she felt the shudder of emotion that swept through
him at this unexpected intimacy. His hands, which
had previously caused her so much pain, now slid
unresistingly over her hips, and with a feeling com-
pounded of guilt and disbelief, she felt herself
drawn against him in such a way she could feel the
sud den stirring maleness of his body against hers. It
would have been pointless to pretend he did not
know what was happening, too. There was no way
he could remain ignorant of his own sexual arousal,
and Lani's startled gaze turned to his in undis-
guised confusion.
'Please-' she breathed, blind to everything but
the fact that she must get away from him before she
betrayed herself, but Jake's fingers silenced her
shocked outburst.
'Don't,' he said, removing his hand from her
mouth to cradle the back of her head, and the room
swam as he rested his cheek against her quivering
temple.
It was madness, she knew. As they moved lan-
guorously around the dance floor, she knew she
would regret this the minute she carne to her
senses. But for now, no one el se was aware of what
was happening. They were alone on an island com-
posed of needs and feelings and bone-melting
closeness, and when his fingers spread possessive-
ly along the curve of her spine, she knew she was
incapable of resisting him.
The eventual cessation of the music achieved
what she had not. When the group stopped playing
and the lights, which had been lowered for dancing,
were raised again, Jake had no choice but to step
back from her, and Lani couldn't bear to look at him
as a wave of shame swept over her.
'Come on,' he said huskily, holding out his hand
to escort her back to their table, but now Lani found
the will to shake her head.
'No,' she said chokingly, 'no, I can't!' and would
ha ve left him then had Jake's agile reflexes not
prevented her from doing so.
'Yes,' he told her steadily, 'yes. you can,' and
while her eyes darted despairingly about the room,
he added, 'I won't embarrass you any more, I
promise.'
What Lani might have replied to this statement
was forestalled by her mother's intervention,
Clare' s blue eyes moving with a certain amount of
wariness from Jake's to her daughters. 'Well, well,'
she said, and Lani knew her mother had immedi-
ately noticed her flushed face. 'How kind of you to
dance with Lani, darling. I didn't even know you
were on the floor.'
'No.' Jake bit off the word flatly and gestured
towards the dining section of the restaurant.
'Well-shall we sit down? I think the band are
leaving for their break.'
'If you don't mind, I'll leave now, Moth-Clare,'
said Lani stiltedly, knowing there was no way she
could go back and sit down as if nothing had hap-
pened. The headache, which had briefly eased
while they were dancing, had returned with greater
intensity, and she longed for her home and her bed
and a darkened room.
'Leave?'
Clare looked at her as if she couldn't believe what
she was hearing, and Lani nodded. 'I-I have got a
bit of a headache,' she admitted unsteadily. 'Don't
bother to break up the party. I can easily get a taxi.'
'I'll take you,' said Jake, astounding both Lani
and her mother, but after her initial reaction, Clare
refused to hear of it.
'You can't,' she exclaimed. 'Darling, this is your
party,' and as Lani endeavoured to assure her
mother she could manage perfectly well alone,
Elwyn once again carne to the rescue.
'I'll take Lani home,' he said. 'It' s not much of a
de tour for me, and like her, I've got the beginnings
of a headache, Clare. You and Jake go on with the
party. I'm sure Maggie and Adrian, and the Nevills
for that matter, are quite prepared to make a night of
it.'
'I'm not,' said Jake, ignoring Clare's cry of pro-
test. 'Look, I've got eight hours of work ahead of me
tomorrow. I suggest we all call it a night. If the
others want to stay, let them. I, for one, need to get
some sleep.'
Lani left Mancini's with Elwyn a few minutes
la ter, leaving her mother making her excuses to the
rest of the party. Jake was still in the restaurant,
waiting impatiently for Clare to finish her apolo-
gies, and as Lani got into the car, she felt a sense of
gratitude that Elwyn had offered to take her. No
matter how tempting the idea of Jake taking her
home had been, she knew she should steer clear of
that young man in future. He was dangerous--and
unprincipled, she told herself severely-and she
closed her mind to the thought that he might have
be en as shocked by what had happened as she was.
Even so, she couldn't stop thinking about him,
and she was relieved to find her father had already
retired for the night and was not waiting to demand
an account of the evening' s events when she got
home. She was too distraite, too preoccupied with
her thoughts, to give him an objective rendering of
Jake's performance or a description of what carne
after. Maybe tomorrow she would feel more capable
of doing so; maybe by tomorrow she would have
got things into perspective again. But for now, as
she shed the fine silk jersey gown and replaced it
with a pair of white silk pyjamas, she forced herself
to remember that Jake had taken her mother home
this evening, that she had every reason to believe he
would spend the night at her mother' s apartment-
he might even be staying there for all she knew-
and that interlude on the dance fIoor had been
inspired by nothing more than an over-indulgence
in alcohol.

CHAPTER SIX

LANI awakened the next morning with an over-

whelming feeling of depression. She felt dull and
lethargic and in no mood to get up and start work-
ing, as she had told Elwyn Hughes she was going to
do, and it was only when her father carne to tell her
he was leaving that she realised it was later than she
had imagined. It was such a dark and dismal morn-
ing beyond her window curtains, she had believed
it was much earlier, and she struggled up on her
pillows apologetically when he carne to stand be-
side her bed.

Tm leaving now, Lani,' he said, looking down at

her with a distinctly anxious frown. 'Are you all
right? You look very pale.' His lips tightened. 'Have
you got a hangover?'

'No.' Lani was indignant. 'All I drank was two

glasses of champagne. I just feel out of sorts, that's
all. I suppose it's because I had a late night.'

'I heard you come in,' affirmed Roger St J ohn

drily. 'After midnight, wasn't it? I assume the recital
didn't last so long.'

'We went to Mancini's for supper,' explained

Lani uncomfortably. 'There ... there were eight of
us. It was supposed to be a sort of celebration.'

'I see.' Her father inclined his head, and watching

his controlled expression, Lani wished her mother
had not forced her into this position. But Clare was
adept at getting her own way, and Lani knew that if

she had refused to see her, she was perfectly cap-

able of coming to Pelham Court and accusing her
ex-husband of poisoning their daughter' s mind.
Lani had known she could not risk that happening.
Her father's peace of mind was a frail thing at best,
and so long as Clare remained in the country, Lani
had to try to keep them apart.

'I'm sorry I didn't join you for breakfast,' she

murmured now, changing the subject, but her
father was not quite ready to leave it alone.

'And did you enjoy it?' he asked. 'The concert, I

mean. Is this man-Pendragon-any good?'

'Oh, yes.' Lani' s tongue circled her upper lip with

some uncertainty. 'He-er-he was quite good
actually. Elwyn seems to think he'll be very success-
ful.'

'Ah.' Her father nodded his head, and she felt a

helpless sense of protectiveness towards him. It
might have be en easier if she could have said that
Jake had been a flop. That way her father could ha ve
consoled himself with the thought that Clare had
allowed her emotions to cloud her judgment.

'Will you be in to dinner?' Lani asked now, want-

ing to reassure him and not knowing how, and
Roger St John made an evident effort to gather
himself.

'No,' he said crisply. 'I'm having dinner at the

club with old Harrison. 1 promised him a game of
chess several weeks ago, and he's pinned me down
to this evening.' He paused. 'Have you got any
plans? When are you seeing your mother again?'

'Oh ... I don't know.' Lani didn't want to talk

about herself. I’ve got to knuckle down to some
work today. I promised Miles I'd have some pre-

liminary sketches to discuss with him in a few

days.'

'1 see.' Her father moved towards the door. 'Well,

I must go. Good luck with your sketching. Don't
work too hard, will you?'

In fact, Lani found it impossible to work at all.

Later that morning, perched on a high stool in front

of her drawing board, her mind remained stubborn-
ly blank, and for the first time in her life, her
imagination was stagnant. The day before she had
made some initial drawings of the apprentice Matil-
da was going to employ, and which was to form the
basis of a new series of books she planned, but this
morning even those drawings looked amateurish.
No one, but no one, child or adult, would be con-
vinced by his authenticity. she told herself con-
temptuously, and tore the sheets in pieces and
scattered them on the floor.

The sound of the telephone was all she needed to

destroy her concentration. It shrilled loudly from
the hall below, and the piece of charcoal she was
holding snapped between her fingers. Oh, God,
she prayed, please don't let it be Clare again, and
started abominably when Mrs Evans hammered on
her door.

'It's for you,' she declared, opening the door a

crack and putting her head around. 'Mr Rossiter. I
told him you were in. Did I do right?'

'Oh-' Lani's relief was palpable. 'Oh, yes. Yes.

1'11 speak to him. Thank you, Mrs Evans. 1'11 come at
once.'

Miles was reassuringly familiar, his casual tone

filled with justifiable indignation. 'Don't tell me you
haven't got those sketches ready for me to see yet,'

he exclaimed. 'It's almost a week since I've seen

you. What have you been doing?'

'It's four days, and I'm afraid I've run into some
complications.' replied Lani ruefu11y. 'I'm sorry,
Miles. I am doing my best, rea11y. But-we11, cir-
cumstances have contrived to make working rather
difficult. '

'Circumstances?' Miles sounded sceptical. 'What

kind of circumstances? Oh, don't te11 me; it's your
mother, you've been seeing her again.'

'As a matter of fact, I have.' Lani sighed. 'You'll

ha ve to give me more time, Miles. Actua11y, I was in
the studio when you rang.'

'1 suppose you went to this recital last night,'

declared Miles shortly. 'Pendragon's début, as
they're calling it. From what I hear, he's been play-
ing the piano for a number of years. I wouldn't
exactly ca11 him an infant prodigy!'

Lani hesitated. '1-1 did go to the recital, yes. And

he was good.'

'Oh, yes, I know.' Miles snorted. '1 expect you've

seen the pictures of him and your mother in the
papers this morning. Looking at them, it' s no won-
der you're finding it difficult to concentrate.'

Lani's throat felt dry. 'Pictures?' she got out at

last. 'What pictures?'

'Of your mother and Jake Pendragon,' retorted

Miles impatiently. 'After the concert was over.
Where were you when a11 the camera bulbs were
snapping?'

At Mancini's, thought Lani silently, realising now

why her mother had sent them on ahead. 'I-er-
we a11 went out for supper afterwards,' she replied
evasively. 'Are the pictures good? Daddy takes the

newspaper to work, and I've not had a chance to

look at it.' ,

'They're okay.' Miles was indifferent. 'He looks

sort of fed up, but your mother is a11 smiles. So she
should be. Arranging a11 this must have cost her a
packet. At least it seems she's going to get some
return on her investment.'

Lani nodded, and then realising Miles couldn't

see her, she said, 'Yes.' She was wondering if her
father had seen the pictures, and she started when
Miles spoke again.

'So when do you think you'l1 have something to

show me?' he asked, reverting back to his original
theme, and Lani gathered her thoughts with an
effort.

'Give me until Monday,' she said. '1 promise 1'11

work over the weekend. 1'11 come into your office on
Monday morning, and if you like what you see, you
can take me out for lunch.'

'Why not dinner on 5aturday?' suggested Miles

flatly. 'Let's face it, you turned me down last week.'

'And interrupt my working schedule?' she ex-

claimed, forcing a note of gaiety into her voice, and
Miles sighed heavily before acceding to her arrange-
ments.

With the phone ca11 finished with, Lani turned

reluctantly towards the stairs, but then changing
her mind again, she made her way along the corri-
dor to the kitchen. 'Mrs Evans, could I have a cup of
coffee?' she asked appealingly, and the housekeep-
er turned from the pastry she was making to nod
towards the percolator.

'Help yourself,' she said, sprinkling flour over the

scrubbed wooden board she was working on. 'Just

so long as you don't expect me to go washing my

hands again, as I had to when the phone rang.'

'I'm sorry, Mrs Evans.' Lani poured herself a mug

of black coffee and cradled it between her palms. '1
would have answered it, honestly, but-well, I was
praying it wouldn't be Clare.'

'And if it had been, do you think l' d have told her

you were out?' inquired the housekeeper drily.
'Anyway, why shouldn't you want to speak to your
mother? You went out with her last night, didn't
you?'

'Yes.' Lani sipped the strong aromatic liquid. 'But

that doesn't mean I like her calling me.' She sighed.
'As a matter of fact, I wish she' d never come back to
London. I-we-Daddy and I seem to get along a
lot better when she's out of the country.'

'Lani!' Mrs Evans sounded shocked. 'That's no

way to speak of the woman who bore you!'
'Sometimes I find that difficult to believe,' mum-
bled the girl into her cup. 'Sometimes I think we
have nothing in common.'

'You've inherited her talent,' declared the house-

keeper staunchly. 'Mrs St John always had a vivid
imagination. I used to think that was why she went
on the stage. Because she enjoyed make-believe so
much.'

'You've known her a long time, haven't you, Mrs

Evans?'

'More than twenty years,' agreed the old woman

reminiscently. 'You were scarcely a month old
when your daddy employed me. And your mother
was already talking about her next role.'

Lani sighed. 'Do you think their marriage would

have lasted as long as it did if they hadn't had me?'

'Who knows?' Mrs Evans shrugged her bony

shoulders. 'They were both so different when they
got married, and the years only served to widen the
gulf between them. Maybe if your father had had
more time for her in those early days--if your
mother had had more patience with his work.' She
pulled a rueful face. 'I'm afraid they were both too
intent on their careers, and by the time your father
realised what was happening, it was too late.'

'He still loves her, you know.' Lani finished her

coffee and set down the mug. 'He pretends that he
doesn't, but he does.'

'Your father loves an illusion,' responded Mrs

Evans sagely. 'The woman he remembers never
even existed. Now, run along with you, will you,
and let me get on with my work.'

Sitting at her drawing board again, Lani won-

dered if what Mrs Evans had said was true. Her
father did tend to ding to his memories of the good
times Clare and he had had together. In all their
conversations, he had never mentioned the rows
that had punctuated their relationship, and the
frigid hostile atmosphere Lani had learned to dread.

At twelve o' dock the phone rang again, and in

spite of her reluctance to speak to her mother, Lani
tossed her sketching pad aside and went to answer
it. Besides, Mrs Evans might still be baking, and she
had promised to take all calls.

Lifting the receiver, cautiously she said, 'Hello.'

The brief silence that greeted her made all the hairs
on her arms and legs stand on end.

'Lani.' The voice that said her name was unbeliev-

ably familiar, and her hand shook as she took the
receiver away from her ear with the avowed inten-

tion of ringing off. But his 'Lani! Lani, for God's

sake, answer me!' tore aside her feeble veneer of
indifference.

'What do you want?' she demanded unsteadily. '1

thought it was my mother who was calling. Is-is
she there with you? I expect she's quite ecstatic
about your success. I hear you've got your picture in
all the papers-'

'Lani, I want to see you.' His flat unemotional

words broke into her nervous flow of speech with
the incision of a knife, and she broke off abruptly,
shocked into silence. '1 mean it,' he added, his
words falling into the breathless stillness around
her. '1 want to see you. Now, do we do this sensibly,
or do we have to play the little charade we played
before?'

Lani pressed her open palm against her jean-clad

thigh, striving for control. '1 really don't know what
you mean, Mr Pendragon.' she hedged. 'When you
rang before, I was too busy to see you. I'm too busy
now. Does my mother want to speak to me?'

'Your mother is not here,' grated Jake harshly. 'If

you want to ring me back, you can reach me at the
Gloucester Court Hotel. Now, do you want to do
that, just to prove I'm not lying?'

'Why should I think you're lying?' she cried, but

she was trembling nevertheless, and she was un-
able to keep the tremor out of her voice. 'Really, Mr
Pendragon, isn't this rather melodrama tic? How or
where you live is no concern of mine.'

'No, it's not,' he agreed, without expression.

'Even so, l' d like to get it out of the way if 1 can. Then
perhaps we could get to the point of my call. That
is--when are you prepared to see me?'

Lani's moist fingers slipped around the handset.

'Does my mother know what you're doing?' she
asked, keeping a tight re in on her emotions, and she
heard the sudden intake of his breath.

'No,' he said flatly. 'She doesn't. Contrary to

public opinion, Clare is not my keeper. I do not have
to gain her permission to ask her daughter to have
tea with me.'

'Tea?'

Lani said the word with some surprise, and Jake

confirmed it. '1 can't get away before four o'clock,'
he stated bleakly. 'But we could have tea here, if you
are prepared to trust me. As a matter of fact, it
would suit me admirably if you would come here.
I've got a lot of work to get through, and I don't have
a lot of time.'

Lani gasped. 'You want me to come to your

hotel!'

'Why not? It's perfectly reasonable. We won't be

alone. I have a valet and a secretary within calling
distance if you' re afraid of my reputation.'

'1-' Lani was speechless. '1 can't come to your

hotel! And in any case, if you're so busy, how have
you found the time to make this call? Isn't it inter-
rupting your concentration or something?'

'As a matter of fact, it is,' replied Jake tautly.

'Look, stop trying to score points, will you, and say
what you think. After last night, I realise you must
think me all kinds of a heel, but at least have the
goodness to give me a chance to apologise.'

'To apologise?'

'What else?' Jake was impatient. 'Well? Will you

come?'

'No.' Lani made her refusal definite. '1 can't. You

shouldn't have asked me. I-I'd forgotten all about

last night. Men who have be en drinking aren't
always responsible for their actions.'

'Really?' She could tell by his tone that he was not

pleased by her dismissal. '1 see now you' re more
sophisticated than I thought. Okay. I'm glad to hear
I didn't upset you. Goodbye, Lani. 1'11 see you
around.'

Not if I see you first, Lani told herself painfully as

she replaced the receiver. The pig! The hypocrite,she
thought, stumping up the stairs to her studio. How
dared he imagine he could get away with a simple
apology! It would serve him right if she phoned her
mother and told her what a bastard he was! The
trouble was, she couldn't be certain Clare would
believe her, and in these kinds of situations, it was
often the informer who carne off worst.

Mrs Evans brought her a sandwich and another

cup of coffee at one o' dock, as she usually did when
Lani was working, but although she thanked her
Lani had no appetite for the ham and cheese roll.
With a feeling of desperation, she told the house-
keeper she was going out, and ignoring Mrs Evans'
Iook of surprise, she pulled on a sheepskin jacket
over her charcoal-smeared shirt and shabby jeans,
and backed the Capri out of the garage.

The weather had improved considerably since

her father left that morning, and now a watery sun
was slatting through the bare branches of the trees
in the square. Its brilliance gave more colour to the
lingering heads of chrysanthemums nodding be-
neath their protection and caused her own spirits to
lighten slightly at the prospect of getting some fresh
air.

Accelerating rather less carefully than usual to the

end of the cul-de-sac, she had to brake hard to avoid
the vehicle that was just turning into Pelham Court.
Shaken by the sudden emergency, Lani was grop-
ing irritably for the right gear when she realised that
the car which had almost run into her was a dark
green Porsche, and as she looked across the bonnet
of her car into the interior of his, she recognised
Jake's grim profile.

He recognised her in the same instant, but Lani

had no intention of sticking around to find out why
he had come. Almost without volition, her feet
found the clutch and the accelerator, and jamming
the car into bottom gear, she sent the Capri hurtling
forward.

When the Porsche slotted in behind her on Glen-

dower Street, she guessed he was not about to let
her get away with it, and she sighed impatiently at
the realisation she could never outpace him on an
open road. Her only real chance of losing him lay in
the mass of si de roads and one-way streets which
made up the heart of the capital, and turning right
without warning, she allowed the Capri to speed
her towards the first of a series of traffic lights.

A glance in her rear-view mirror reminded her

that Jake had a vehicle which could out-manoeuvre
most other cars on the road, and she realised she
would have to be much more sneaky if she wanted
to escape him. Licking her lips, she switched on her
left signal, turning right at the last moment, so that
the Capri' s tyres squealed protestingly as she
hauled the steering wheel round. To her intense
annoyance, the Porsche merely waited until she
had negotiated the corner before making any signal,

and she could almost hear the irate motorist, who

was coming in the opposite direction and whose
fender she almost scraped, saying, 'Women
drivers!' with every reason to feel aggrieved.

She guessed Jake was not exactly enjoying the

detour even though he was obviously finding no
difficulty in keeping up with her. On the contrary,
there were times when he was evidently trying to
overtake, and she had to swerve sideways to pre-
vent his outwitting her. But for the most part, the
roads were too busy to allow for anything but the
simple art of keeping going, and Lani' s head
was spinning by the time she had threaded her
way in and out of the streets behind the Middlesex
Hospital, only to find herself in another one-
way street, with no alternative but to repeat the
exercise.

Swinging the wheel, she turned out of Langham

Gate into a street she had not seen before and then
stood on her brakes as the blank wall of the nurses'
home loomed up ahead of her. It was a No Entry
street, which she should have identified by the
circular sign at its start, but she had be en so intent
on outwitting Jake she had not even noticed the
unmistakable No Entry signs.

Hunching her shoulders, she looked into the

rear-view mirror, quite prepared to find lake getting
out of the Porsche behind her, but to her amaze-
ment the lane was deserted. There was no sign of
the sleek green sports car which had tailed her all
over the city, and she blinked her eyes disbelieving-
ly, unable to accept that he had missed her diver-
sion. But it must be so, she argued with herself
impatiently. Somehow, she didn't quite know how,

she had thrown him off the scent, and she expelled
her breath almost deliriously at the thought of how
angry he must be.

'Out!' The sudden command caught her un-

awares, and she gazed at him in amazement as he
reached in and expertly extracted her keys. '1 said
out,' he repeated, without a trace of warmth in his
voice, and because she was so stunned, Lani found
herself obeying him.

'1-1 can't stay here. It's a No Entry,' she pro-

tested, the logic of her argument causing him to
quirk one dark brow.

'Yo u should ha ve thought of that before you

turned in here,' he remarked, putting her keys in
his pocket. '1 was waiting for you to make a mistake.
The way you were driving, I'm amazed you're still
in one piece.'

'I'm a good driver,' dec1ared Lani sullenly, as

surprise gave way to resentment. 'And I don't
sneak up on people when they're least expecting it.
You could have given me a heart attack for the
second time today.'

'Only for the second time?' Jake was coldly sard-

onic. 'You surprise me. I should have thought it
was the third at least.'

'You think you're so c1ever, don't you?'

'The stock response.' He shrugged. 'No, I don't

think I'm particularly c1ever at all. If I were 1 would
be back at the hotel practising instead of following
you on this crazy car chase all over London!'

Lani sniffed. 'No one asked you to follow me.'

'No, that's true,' he conceded. 'However, it must
have occurred to you that I hadn't driven all the way
to Pelham Court just for the exercise, and as you

childishly decided to play cops and robbers, I had

no choice but to join in.'
Lani glanced round. 'So where's your car?'
'Parked in front of the hospital.' he declared
carelessly. 'Unlike you, I do not ignore No Entry
signs. The police are apt to get annoyed over things
like that.'

'Very funny.' Lani pulled a face, but in fact it

wasn't so funny after all. As it happened, she was
beginning to feel depressed as well as foolish, and
she looked up at him moodily, wondering what he
was really thinking.

'So-' Jake expelled his breath heavily. 'What

now? Do we start all over, or as soon as I give you
back your keys, are you going to make another run
for it?'

'1 won't do that,' muttered Lani, holding out her

hand. 'Give me the keys. Like you, l' d prefer not to
get a parking ticket.'

Jake hesitated. 'Will you follow me to my hotel?'

'No.' Lani was definite. '1-1 wanted some air. I
was going to walk in the park. You can come with
me, if you like. It's up to you.'

Jake was suspicious. 'What park?'

'Any park.' Lani bent her head. 'Regent's Park is

not far from here. We could go there. Always sup-
posing l can get out of here, of course.'

'I'll help you.' said Jake abruptly, dropping the

keys into her hand and walking towards the narrow
exit. 'You'd better reverse. I'll try and hold up the
traffic so that you can get out.'

Once she was out and Jake was striding away to

get his car, Lani pressed her lips together mutinous-
ly. He was so cool, she thought resentfully, so

assured, so much in control of the situation. It

wasn't her fault that he'd trailed her all over Lon-
don. Nor could she be blamed for the time he had
wasted. How much practising did he have to do, for
heaven's sake? He already played the piano like it
was an extension of his fingers. Why couldn't he
just leave her alone, instead of making her feel as if
she was responsible for all of this?

She was lucky enough to find a parking space by

the cricket ground, and she stood about impatient-
ly, her hands thrust deep into the sheepskin's pock-
ets, waiting for Jake to park. He reversed with
enviable skill into a narrow space which Lani had
rejected and then got out of the Porsche lithely,
sliding his arms into the sleeves of a leather jerkin,

'You waited,' he remarked ironically, strolling

towards her, adjusting the collar of his coat. 'Shall
we walk?'

'Where?' Lani scuffed her boot against the kerb.

'Along the canal? Into the zoo?'

'Let's just walk in the park,' said Jake, inclining

his head in the direction in which he wanted to go,
and Lani shrugged indifferently as he fell into step
beside her

They skirted the canal and the zoological gardens

and then left the paths to walk across the grass. It
was damp but springy, and there were few people
about to trouble them, and Lani felt her guard
relaxing as Jake spoke of the time of year and the
weather, and his own preference for warmer
climates. Like her mother he was tanned, observed
Lani, although with his dark skin it was not so
noticeable, and she remembered bitterly that he had
just spent three weeks in the Caribbean. Such

thoughts did not make easy company, and when he

spoke of the previous evening' s recital, she had lost
her mood of tolerance.

'What were you doing in Pelham Court?' she

asked abruptly, anxious for him to get to the point.
'You made your apologies quite adequately on the
phone. Don't you think it was rather foolhardy
coming to my father's house?'

'Probably.' Jake's hands were pushed into the

pockets of his trousers, and he lifted his shoulders
carelessly. 'However, after some consideration, I
knew 1 had to talk to you. 1 didn't want you to get
the wrong impression of me.'

'Could I do that?' Lani's tone was taut and chal-

lenging, and Jake's mouth tightened ominously.
'As far as I'm concerned you can't excuse what
happened, and I'm amazed at your temerity in
believing I won't tell my mother.'

Jake halted abruptly, his expression hard and

angry. 'Go ahead,' he said curtly. 'If that' s what you
want to do, tell her! I won't try to stop you. It's
entirely your affair.'

'Because you know my mother wouldn't believe

me!' Lani burst out hotly, stopping beside him and
gazing up at him through her long lashes. 'She's so
obsessed with you, she'd be bound to think I was
making it up-that deep down inside I was jealous!'

‘And aren't you?' he inquired harshly, regarding

her through narrowed lids and her resentment
flared into action. Without really stopping to think
what she was doing, she lifted her hand and slap-
ped him full across his face, and then watched with
a quivering sense of incredulity as the red weals her
fingers had made rose lividly against his dark skin.

It was fortunate there was no one around to

witness what had happened. Only a stalwart belt of
trees looked on in silent recrimination, and Lani
stepped back uncomfortably, half afraid he was
about to return the compliment. But he didn't. He
just stood there looking at her, waiting for her to
make the next move, and she lifted her shoulders
jerkily, feeling as if she was the guilty party. It
didn't help that she was wearing no make-up, she
thought helplessly, that her clothes were hardly
elegant, and that such things were important when
one was fighting a psychological battle. He had her
at a disadvantage, as he had had from the begin-
ning, not just because this meeting was unex-
pected, but because the sequence of events had left
her feeling so vulnerable. And it certainly didn't
help to know she would suffer in any physical
comparison with Clare.

His fingers touching her chin, lifting her face to

his, brought her out of her misery, but Lani's in-
stinctive reaction was to get away from him.
However, when she stepped back again, she carne
up against the bol e of a tree behind her, and its
coarse bark pricked the fabric of her jacket as her
nervous feet trampled the grass at its base.

'I'm sorry.' Jake's voice was now low and husky

and unbelievably tender, disrupting her emotions
as nothing else had ever done, and her heart palpit-
ated wildly. 'But when I'm with you, you make me
feel so bloody selfish, and all I want to do is hurt
you.'

Lani put her hands down to her sides, gripping

the bole of the tree as if for support. His words had
not reassured her. On the contrary, she was very
much afraid that if he continued to stroke her chin,
she would not be able to resist the desire to turn her
lips against his hand, and panic made her turn her
head so that his fingers fell away.

But he didn't leave her to recover what little com-

posure she had left. With a muffled oath, he moved
towards her, and this time she had no choice but to
look at him when he cradled her face in his hands.

'You're so--so--'

He broke off and she strove to find some word

which might cause him to release her. 'So si1ly? So
childish? So lacking in sophistication?' she mum-
bled bitterly, and his gentleness gave way to sud-
den violence.

'You know that's not true,' he muttered, his long

fingers flexing against the slender column of her
throat and then, with a groan of submission, he
bent his head to hers.

His mouth touched hers tentatively at first, as if

uncertain of its we1come, but when she did no more
than restrain any resistance, his tongue darted be-
tween his lips to stroke the unyielding contours of
hers. It was moist and seductive, a sensual, sen-
suous indication of what lovemaking could be, and
Lani' s head fe11 back against the tree' s bark, its
spikes tearing at her hair. The persuasive kisses he
was depositing on her upper lip and on her lower
one, stirred the wanton emotions he had awakened
the night before, and although she was trying to
remain impassive, her head was swimming with
the effort. He was an expert in the art of seduction,
she thought despairingly, and when his tongue
forced her lips to part, she felt a warm flood of
sensation in her thighs.

With a little sigh, she gave up the unequal strug-

gle, and the searching intimacy of his tongue in her
mouth was a new and devastating violation. It was
an irresistible reminder of the way he could tear
aside her defences, and its sexual possession
brought her hands up to clutch his sleeves.

As if he, too, was shaken by the hungry cohesion

of their mouths, Jake's weight suddenly co11apsed
against her. With a murmured protest, his hands
left her throat to open her coat and then grasped the
burgeoning fu11ness of her breasts. Even through
her shirt, she could feel her nipples cresting against
his palms, and she knew an unholy impulse to tear
her shirt aside and feel his touch upon her naked
skin.

'Lani,' he said thickly, releasing her mouth to take

a laboured breath, and then with a supreme effort
he put his hands against the bole of the tree and
pushed himself away from her.

In the strained silence that fo11owed his sudden

withdrawal, Lani could do nothing. For a few numb
moments, she was too shocked to move, and it was
the errant wind needling at the fastening of her shirt
that reminded her belatedly how cold she was. And
it was not just an outer cold either. It was an inner
one, too, crystallising from the very core of her
being, so that shame and guilt and indignation were
a11 one, knotting like a painful growth inside her.
With a feeling of self-disgust, she dragged her coat
about her then, holding it in place with trembling
arms, waiting, though she was not exactly aware of
it, for the trite excuses he would offer.

'1 did not mean this to happen,' he said at last,

and Lani lifted her shoulders, as if his words had

confirmed her expectations. '1 wanted to see you-

but that was all. I did not intend to touch you. But
you looked so indignant, and comforting you
seemed such an innocent thing to do. Innocent!'He
repeated the word savagely. '1 must have been out
of my mind!'

'Don't go on.' Lani straightened away from the

tree abruptly. 'I've no doubt you believe everything
you say.' Her lips twisted. 'That's what makes it so
pathetic!'

'What do you mean?'

Jake, who had turned away to rake restless

fingers through his hair, rounded on her with sud-
den hostility, but Lani refused to be dismayed. 'Isn't
this the moment when you say we must never meet
again?' she taunted coldly, her words belying the
coil of pain that writhed inside her. 'Forgive me, but
weren't you about to say that you had wanted us to
be friends, but how impossible that is now?'

'You little-'

Jake bit off an epithet, but Lani merely arched her

brows. 'What's wrong?' she asked. 'Am 1 too out-
spoken? Or was I too near the truth for your liking?
What did you expect, Jake? More recriminations?'

He drew a savage breath. 'Sometimes clichés can

be true, you know,' he snapped. 'And as far as us
never meeting again is concerned, then you' d ha ve
to ask your mother about that, wouldn't you?'

Lani winced at the deliberate callousness of his

words, but Jake ignored her sudden pallor. 'Just to
set the matter straight, I had intended to tell you, as
gently as possible, that right now there' s no place in
my life for emotional complications,' he added
harshly. 'But I see I was mistaken in considering

your feelings. I suggest we go back before 1 say

something 1’11 regret. You are still Clare's daughter,
however unlikely that seems!'

They walked back in silence to where they had

left the cars. Lani would have preferred to walk
alone, but it seemed easier and infinitely more
mature to maintain a facade of cold indifference,
and although she was intensely conscious of his
chilling presence beside her, she managed to look
about her with every appearance of interest.

Once back at the parking area, however, her

confidence deserted her, and she hurried to get into
her car on legs that seemed suddenly unsure. The
last few minutes had exhausted her remaining re-
serves of energy, and she tucked herself behind the
wheel with a feeling of imminent collapse. She
wasn't even convinced she had the will to drive
herself back to Pelham Court, and she waited with
some apprehension for Jake to leave first.

But he didn't, He drove the Porsche out of its

space and then, Ieaving the engine running, he got
out and walked back to where Lani was parked. He
waited for her to wind down her window so that he
could speak to her, but when she didn't, too choked
up to face another confrontation with him, he gave a
gesture of impatience and wrenched open her door.

'Just to put your mind at rest, 1'11 tell Clare I've

seen you-' he declared coldly, pulling the door
wide, and then broke off abruptly when he saw her
tear-wet face. 'For Christ's sake, Lani,' he muttered,
evidently stunned by her betraying breakdown.
'Oh, for Christ's sake, what am I going to do with

you?
Lani didn't answer him. She couldn't, With tears

running down her cheeks and into her mouth and

her whole being gripped by the most agonising kind
of torment, she was incapable of defending herself
and she knew it. He was to blame, she thought
bitterly, looking up mistily into his startled eyes. If
he had only left her alone, she might have come to
terms with the way she was feeling. As it was, he
had taken her world and turned it upside down.

Snatching the door from his unresisting fingers,

she reached determinedly for the ignition. If he had
driven away as any honourable man would have
done, he would never have realised how he had
hurt her, she sniffed miserably, and there was no
point in prolonging her humiliation.

With trembling fingers, she fired the engine, and

then cursed her own stupidity as it stalled at the first
attempt. A second effort was more successful, and
she finally got it into gear and pulled away.

If she had expected Jake might try and stop her,

she was mistaken. He simply stood there, his hands
pushed deep into the pockets of his trousers, wait-
ing for her to leave. There was a curiously frustrated
expression on his face, but she did not try to analyse
it. No doubt, he was cursing himself for ever getting
involved with her. As she turned into Prince Albert
Road, she saw him walking back to his car, and this
time she had no illusions that he might decide to
follow her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FOR the next two weeks, Lani immersed herself in

her work, refusing all invitations with the excuse
that she simply did not have the time to spare. Even
her consultations with Miles were kept on a busi-
ness footing, and although he joked with her and
said he had not intended she should be come a
recluse, Lani had insisted it was the only way she
could make any progress.

And to a certain extent she was right. By cutting

herself off from all emotional relationships, she was
able to concentrate totally on her work, and the
satisfaction she gained from that helped to make up
for the other deficiencies in her life.
At first, it wasn't easy. The weekend after she had
had that scene with Jake, nothing seemed to go
right for her, and Clare, calling to invite her to
another party, became quite angry when she in-
sisted she couldn't make it.

'Of course you can make it, Lani,' she exclaimed

tersely. 'Having accepted you into my circle, the
least you can do is show some gratitude for it.
Besides, there'll be some interesting people for you
to meet, people who might well be able to help you
with your work.'

Lani sighed. '1 don't need any help, Mother.'

'My name is Clare, and everyone needs help,'
retorted her mother shortly. 'In any case, I want you
to be there. Goodness knows, it's not so much to ask

when I sha11 be leaving for Paris in a couple of

weeks.'

'You're leaving?'

Lani's shocked reaction was evident, and Clare,

misunderstanding her daughter's feelings, quickly
explained. '1 sha11 be singing at La Scala in Decem-
ber, and as Jake has visited France only briefly, I
thought we might spend a few days there before
rehearsals begin in Milan. Paris is such a beautiful
city. I've always felt it was my spiritual home. And I
want Jake to share that-as we11 as meet some
people I know who will be very useful to him.'

Lani's lips compressed. '1 see,' she got out at last.

'We11, I'm sure you will enjoy yourselves. l--er-I
suppose I may see you when you get back to Eng-
land. Will it be in January?'

'You mean you won't change your mind?'

Clare was incensed, but Lani was infinitely more

determined now to avoid another meeting. 'I'm
afraid not,' she said. And unable to prevent herself,
she added, 'Unlike Mr Pendragon, I find hard work
the only recipe for success.'

As she had expected, Clare took exception to this,

and Lani had to listen while her mother informed
her with icy disdain that she couldn't possibly
understand how a real artist might feel. Just because
she was prepared to settle for the m ediocreexistence
she had chosen for herself did not mean everyone
had to be so provincial.There was more in the same
vein, but Lani closed her ears to the continuing
stream of verbal abuse, and when Clare rang off,
she consoled herself with the thought that she had
probably burned her boats so far as her mother was
concerned.

During the second week of her enforced isolation,

Roger St John succumbed to a dose of influenza,
and Lani' s energies were divided between her stu-
dio and her father's bedroom. Roger seemed to pick
up colds so much more easily now than he had done
before, and once again he developed the cough Lani
had worried about the last time he was ill. She took
the opportunity to mention her anxieties the next
time the doctor ca11ed, and his diagnosis was that
her father needed a rest.

'He needs a holiday, Lani,' he told her simply.

'How long is it since you two got away together?
Couldn't you persuade him to spend a few weeks in
the sun? I believe Florida is very nice at this time of
the year.'

Lani sighed. 'He won't go, Dr Lawson. Do you

think I haven't tried to persuade him? One of his
co11eagues offered him the use of his villa in the
South of France in September, but he wouldn't
take it. He just seems to live for his work, that's all,
and if anyone threatens to take that away from
him ... '

'1 know what you mean.' Dr Lawson grimaced. '1

have other patients with the same complaint. Okay,
Lani-well, 1'11 just ha ve to see what I can do.'

In the event, Roger surprised both of them by

submitting to Dr Lawson's suggestion. 'Christmas
is coming,' he said to Lani smoothly, after the
physician had departed. 'We could spend a few
days in the West Indies, if you're agreeable. 1 know
Mrs Evans would like to visit her daughter in Read-
ing, so there'd be no problem there.'

'Oh, Daddy!' Lani was so relieved, she didn't

know what to say. 'But-where in the West Indies?

Trinidad? Barbados? Oh, there are so many islands,

and l' d like to visit them all.'

'1 thought-Antigua,' said her father offhanded-

ly, and Lani felt the first twinge of anxiety. 'It seems
to be the place that most people want to go,' he
added. 'And as we haven't been before, we ought to
start somewhere.'

Lani hesitated. 'Then why not Barbados?'

'Because 1 want to go to Antigua,' replied her
father brusquely. 'Good heavens, girl, 1 thought
you didn't care where we went. Just so long as we
got some sun, of course.'

Lani sighed. '1 don't. And ... and if you want to

go to Antigua, we'll go.' But she couldn't help
remembering that her father had said Clare had
recently returned from a visit to Antigua, and her
nerves were still too tense not to make the obvious
connection.

With the completed sketches of Mogbat, Matilda's

new apprentice, behind her, Lani began the slow
process of plotting the first story. Her initial ideas
took the form of a picture story, illustrating the
narrative' s development in a series of line drawings
that she would eventually transform into actual
paintings. She found the ideas for her stories de-
veloped themselves, and in spite of her fears about
her father, she found her enthusiasm returning as
the butter-fingered Matilda led her unsuspecting
apprentice into a sequence of disastrous adventures
that were both exciting and humorous. The world of
make-believe was such an ideal world to escape to,
and she resented the emotions that still intruded
during her non-working hours.

One of her worst days occurred when she read in

the morning newspaper that Clare had left for Paris

the previous day. There was a picture of her at the
airport, smiling as she was whisked through the
departure lounge by a handful of security men, and
although it was impossible to positively identify the
dark-coated individual accompanying her, Lani
had little hesitation in deciding it was Jake. Clare
Austin on herway to Milan,the caption under the
photograph read, and after describing how she was
to appear at the Milan opera house, the article
concluded by confirming that she would not be back
in England again before the end of January.

It was only after Lani had snapped the points of

several pencils that it occurred to her to wonder
whether her father hadn't read something similar
before his sudden acquiescence to their holiday. If
he had learned that Clare was to spend Christmas
out of the country, he might have assumed mis-
takenly she was returning to the Caribbean. After
all, Clare had always liked the sun, and he had
probably not known of her engagement in Milan.
Still, Lani reflected dourly, once they got there he
would soon learn the truth, and she was not going
to tell him and jeopardise his health.

With Clare gone, however, Lani did discover a

new sense of freedom. She no longer started every
time the telephone rang, and when she drove out of
Pelham Court, she was not continually searching
for a certain dark green Porsche. She actually began
to believe she had exaggerated the effect Jake' s
reappearance in her life had had on her, and only
when she read some snippet of information about
France or Italy did she feel the crippling depression
that thinking of him evoked. But it was no use, she

told herself, whenever she was feeling low. Even if

Jake had not be en the kind of man he was, he would
never ha ve been content to marry her. He was
ruthless, he was selfish, and he was ambitious, and
whatever it took to gain his own ends, he would do
it.

Roger St John returned to work at the beginning

of December, and Lani, who had spent far too much
time worrying over her father, was glad to get back
to her book. The adventures of Matilda and Mogbat
were reaching a critical stage, and she was eager to
get the line drawings finished so that she could start
working in colour. It was unlikely she would get
that far before they were due to leave for Antigua,
but she was eager to continue. Only in her studio
did. she truly feel alive, and she hoped the coming
holiday would provide the adjustment she needed,
too.

On the Wednesday afternoon of the week her

father had returned to work, Lani was working in
her studio when the doorbell rang. She had been
engrossed in the illustration of a jet-propelled
broomstick Matilda had invented, but the unex-
pected sound disturbed her, and she sighed with
some impatience at the realisation that Mrs Evans
was out. Of course she could ignore it, she thought,
tapping the end of her pencil against her teeth. But
if it was someone like Sarah, who had recently been
objecting that Lam was neglecting them, she would
not take kindly to being left standing on the door-
step.
. Taking a deep breath, she got up from her draw-
ing board to walk to the door. As she did so, the bell
downstairs pealed again, and she automatically

quickened her step as she ran lightly down the

stairs. A swift glance at her reflection in the hall
mirror assured her that she was reasonably present-
able. Her hair, loosely secured with a piece of black
velvet, was untidy, but anyone who knew how often
she ran her fingers through it while she was work-
ing, would not be surprised at that. And for once
she was wearing quite a decent short-sleeved jum-
per, the hem of which actually overlapped her less
presentable purple cords.

It had been a gloomy day, the misty veil of morn-

ing giving way only with reluctance to an overcast
afternoon. Lani had had the light on over her draw-
ing board for the past hour, and now, as she opened
the door to her visitor, the shades of evening were
already darkening the streets. She could hardly
believe it was only three o' dock, and with this
thought in her mind, she was totally unprepared for
the man who stood outside.

Jake was propped against the concrete post that

supported the canopy overhanging the step, dress-
ed in jeans and a brown leather jacket. He gave the
appearance of having been there for some time, and
Lani looked about her anxiously, wondering who
el se had seen him. He must be cold, she thought
uneasily, noticing the lines of strain about his
mouth. Then, more urgently she wondered, what
was he doing here? Why wasn't he in Milan, with
Clare?

'Can 1 come in?' he asked at last, when it became

obvious that Lani was too agitated to speak.
Although she badly wanted to let him in, she shook

Her head. .

'There's no one at home,' she said jerkily. 'I--our

housekeeper has gone to her daughter' s. My

father's at work, and I'm in the house alone.'

'That's what I thought,' remarked Jake straight-

ening and stepping on to the threshold. 'Come on,
Lani. Don't keep me hanging about. I didn't come
all this way just to play verbal games.'

Lani stepped aside, because if she hadn't he

would have walked into her, but when he closed the
door behind him, she reached nervously for the
light switch. It was too dismal in the hall to see him
properly, too claustrophobic there in the gloom to
feel at ease. And while she was fumbling for the
lamp, he stepped closer to her, and her words of
protest were cut off by his mouth.

She fought herself free moments la ter, putting

the width of the hall between them and turning on
the main switch as she did so. The small chandelier
lit up the hall and the stairs beyond, and she
hovered on the bottom step, realising she had to
stay in control. She should not have let him in. As
soon as she had seen who it was, she should have
slammed the door in his face. But seeing him there
had aroused all the crazy emotions she had been
trying so hard to suppress, and she had not had the
will to turn him away.

Now Jake pushed his hands into the pockets of

his jacket and looked about him with evident in-
terest. As if attempting to reassure her, he made a
wry inspection of his reflection in the hall mirror,
and then his eyes alighted on the picture of the
Brecon Beacons which Lani had painted and which
her father had insisted on hanging in the hall.

'Yours?' he queried lightly, almost as if that ur-

gent kiss had not taken place, and Lani nodded her

head mutely, too unnerved to dissemble. 'It's

good,' he commented, tilting his head to one side to
read her signature. 'Lani St john. September 1980.'

'What do you want?' Lani's fingers curved over

the newel post. 'Please-you can't stay here. If my
father comes home and finds you, he'll ...
he'll ... '

'What will he do?' Jake's eyes were on a level with

hers as she stood on the first stair. 'Throw me out?'
He shrugged his shoulders. 'He might try.'

'You don't have to tell me that you're stronger

than my father,' exclaimed Lani unsteadily. 'But l' d
rather you weren't obliged to prove it. He-he' s not
been well, and finding you here. . . it could be bad
for him,' she finished lamely.

Jake looked down at his booted feet and took a

measured step towards her. 'Okay,' he said, look-
ing up again. 'If you promise to listen to what I have
to say, 1 '1 1promise to be gone before your father gets
home.'

Lani moistened her dry lips. 'Why do you keep

doing this? Why can't you leave me alone? After-
after what happened before, I thought you had had
enough of me. You said yourself you had no time
for-for complications.'

'1 said there was no place in my life for emotional

complications,' amended Jake, shortening the dis-
tance between them with each panther like tread.
'Look-can't we talk somewhere else? 1 don't like to
think our conversation is being observed.'

'Observed?' Lani looked blank, and he explained.

'Outside,' he said, gesturing beyond the fluted
glass panels of the door. 'There were two old ladies
who seemed mightily interested in the fact that 1

was at your door. Do you think they might be

curious as to why you invited me in, if you're not
prepared to offer me a seat?'

Lani sighed. '1 suppose you mean the Misses

French,' she exclaimed unhappily, recalling the
spinster sisters who shared the house two doors
away. Since Lani was at college, and even before
that, they had shown an unhealthy interest in any
young man who brought her home, and she could
imagine what they were thinking now.

'Show me where you work, suggested Jake,

reaching the foot of the stairs and placing one hand
against the wall and the other over hers where it
rested on the banister.

'I can't-'

'Why can't you?' he persisted softly. '1 showed

you where I worked all those years ago.'

'That wasn't the same-'

'Why wasn't it?' His eyes narrowed. '1 am in-

terested, really. And-and if your father comes
back, I promise I'll sneak out the back way.'

Lani's heart quickened. 'Jake-'

'Mmm.'

His eyes were on her mouth, and she could

almost feel their touch. 'Wh-where's Clare?' she
breathed, introducing her mother's name deliber-
ately, but he was not perturbed.

'In Milan, I guess,' he responded huskily.

Pulling her hand free of his, Lani led the way
upstairs. Her studio had never looked more untidy,
with scraps of paper balled on the floor and broken
pencils littering her board. There were piles of
sketch pads and note books, pots of ink and glue
and solvent, and several half-squeezed tubes of

paint tossed carelessly in a comer. Because she

needed the space, there was little in the way of
furniture: just her board and her desk and her easel,
the cupboard where she kept spare supplies of
paper, the stool she sat on, and an old chintzy sofa
which she sometimes used when she was checking
her proofs. It was Spartan but functional, and Lani
had always felt at ea se there.

'So-this is Matilda's hideaway,' remarked Jake,

pausing for a moment in the doorway before follow-
ing her into the room. His eyes moved in studied
appraisal over the walls, hung with various paint-
ings Lani had done over the years. 'What are you
working on at the moment? Or is that not for
publication ?'

'No, 1-' Lani lifted her shoulders nervously,

disconcerted by the fact that he had closed the door
behind him. 'I've ... invented another character.
Mogbat. He's-he's Matilda's new apprentice.
Miles-that's my agent-he thought creating
another character was a good idea.'

'Is this Mogbat?' Jake queried, approaching her

board and examining the drawing she had been
working on, and Lani took her life in her hands and
went to stand beside him.

'I-yes. Yes, that's him,' she agreed, pointing at

the little character, who was an endearing mix of cat
and bat, and Jake turned his head and looked at her.
'You're trembling,' he said, and she realised the
hand she had extended had betrayed her. 'Why are
you trembling? You're not afraid of me, are you?'
Lani shook her head. '1 expect I'm cold,' she

replied, with a remarkable degree of self-

possession, considering how disturbed she felt in-

side. Just standing here beside him was taking

every shred of self-control she had, and it didn't
help when he turned fully towards her.

'1 went to Paris,' he said, and the unprincipled

thought she had had that perhaps he had not
accompanied her mother after all died a death.

'1 know,' she answered, refusing to look at him. '1

saw Clare' s picture in the paper. Did you enjoy the
experience?'

'Paris was ... interesting,' he conceded, lifting

one hand to take a strand of her hair between his
fingers, and Lani knew she ought to move away
from him. '1 missed you,' he added, taking the
strand to his lips. '1 kept wondering what you were
doing and if you had forgiven me.'

'Forgiven you?' Lani's breathing was constricted.

'Why should you want my forgiveness? You
seemed to blame me for what-for what happened
that day.'

'Did I?' He sounded surprised, but she refused to

respond to the desire to see for herself. 'Well, 1 can
hardly blame you for this, can I? 1 flew back from
Milan because 1 wanted to see you.'

Lani steeled herself as his probing fingers stroked

a line from her shoulder to her elbow. 'And did you
tell my mother why you were coming back?' she
demanded tautly. 'Or as she had served her pur-
pose, did she no longer deserve your attention?'

'1 told Clare 1 was coming back to England, yes,'

he responded harshly, his teasing fingers stilling
their game and coming to rest inflexibly at the back
of her neck. '1 saw no point in hurting her by telling
her 1 was coming to see you. But if you want that
privilege, of course 1 can't prevent you.'

Lani winced as he turned her to face him, and his

grim expression softened slightly at her weakness.
'Why do you persist in bringing up your mother's
name every time we're together?' he demanded
roughly. '1 don't ask you about this man-Miles-
or Paul Somers, or any of the other men in your
life. Why do you insist on tormenting both of us?'

Lani hesitated. 'But, you do ... sleep with Clare,

don't you?'

'I've slept with a lot of women,' he replied flatly.

'If that' s what this charade is all about, then yes, l' m
quite normal in that respect.'

'That's not what 1 meant,' said Lani unsteadily,

but when he moved his hand to cup her nape she
did not move away.

'1 want you,' Jake told her evenly, bending his

head to brush his lips against the downy softness of
her cheek. '1 want to go to bed with you. Oh-not to
sleep,' he added as she quivered in his arms. 'Just to
be with you, to be a part of you, and to make you a
part of me-'

'You can' t-we can' t-' choked Lani, panicking

as his lips reached the corner of her mouth and his
hands drew her more firmly against him.

'1 think we're going to have to,' he stated, forcing

his tongue between her teeth, and its sensual per-
suasion made all her limbs go weak.

But still she pushed against him, trying desper-

ately to keep him away from her, and her senses
swam as his lips sought the quivering curve of her
jawline and the scented contours of her neck before
returning to her lips. It was only when he grasped
her hands and pushed them down between them,
and her fingers brushed the throbbing source of his

manhood, that his name broke from her, and his

hungry mouth possessed her with all its sexual skill.

'Yes,' he said unsteadily. 'Why el se am 1 here? 1

need you, Lani. 1 can' t eat or sleep or work! 1 can' t do
anything without thinking how much 1 want you,
how much 1 want to feel you on me and under
me-naked, together.'

'Jake, this is crazy-'

'But good, hmm?' he breathed, his hands sliding

beneath the skimpy jumper. 'Take this off, can't
you? 1 want to see your breasts.'

'Jake-'

'Okay, okay,' he muttered, releasing her for a

moment to shrug off his jacket and let it fall to the
floor. The silk shirt he was wearing under it rapidly
followed, but when his hands went to the belt of his
trousers, Lani quickly turned away.

'Don't!' she protested, the blood rushing head-

long through her veins, and suddenly she felt him
close behind her.

'Why not?' he demanded, his mouth against her

nape. 'I'm not ashamed of your seeing my body.'
H1S hands probed the hem of her jumper to slide up
over her rib cage. 'Let me undress you,' he urged,
his fingers closing possessively round her breasts,
and her common-sense self deserted her as she
yielded back against him.

The jumper was soon disposed of, and he re-

leased her ha ir from the scrap of velvet so that it fell
in silken strands about her shoulders. Then, he
turned her towards him, and although she desper-
ately wanted to cover her nakedness, he wouldn't
let her, and her eyes closed helplessly as he
shamelessly looked his fill.

'Let' s go to the couch,' he said, capturing her

hand in his, and she let him draw her after him to
the chintz-covered sofa, shadowy in its corner.
With a controlled kind of tenderness, he set her
down on the couch, and then knelt beside her,
covering her hands and wrists with urgent, emotive
kisses that sent tingles up her arms.

When his mouth went to her breasts, she drew

back from him, but she could not prevent what he
was doing. With her hands spread wide against the
cushions, she felt the exquisite sensuality of his
tongue against their peaks, and his fingers went to
mould their fullness as he took the whole areola
between his teeth.

Somehow she was lying on the couch now, and

he was beside her, his lips seeking hers again with
increasing urgency. She knew he had unfastened
the waistband of her cords, and as his tongue
plunged ever more deeply into her mouth, she felt
the coolness of air against her stomach.

Once again, a sense of panic gripped her, but the

sudden warmth of his thigh against hers made her
realise he had shed his clothes too. One hard
muscular leg imprisoned her, and the subtle fra-
grance of his skin was all about her. To her amaze-
ment, she found her hands reaching for him,
drawing him down to her, and the smooth thick-
ness of his hair felt deliciously virile between her
fingers.

'You want me-say it!' he implored passionately,

and with those tawny eyes burning with the fire of
his emotions, Lani's hands moved down to caress
the taut column of his throat.

'1 want you.' she repeated obediently, pulling his

mouth back to hers, and Jake uttered a sigh of

satisfaction as his body moved to cover hers.

This was a totally new experience for Lani. She

had never shared with anyone el se the kind of
intimacies she was sharing with Jake, but she was
distantly aware he did not know that. The feel of his
skin against hers, the rough abrasion of his body
hair, which curled upon his chest before arrowing
down to his navel and beyond, the raw male scent
of his body-these things had clouded her mind to
the practical elements of the situation, and while
she knew what he expected of her, when his leg
moved to part hers, she found herself fighting a
losing battle.

'Yes, Lani,' he said harshly, evidently mistaking

her withdrawal for a belated sense of conscience,
and his hand between her thighs quickly disposed
of her objections.

'I-no-you mustn't.' she whispered brokenly,

as his insistent touch brought her to a trembling
submission, but he was no longer capable of listen-
ing to her. With a groan of urgency, his body sought
the honeyed sheath of hers, and although there was
a moment's hesitation when he met that unex-
pected obstacle, it was too late to prevent the inevit-
able from happening. Her gasp of pain was stifled
against his shoulder as she felt that searing penetra-
tion, but Jake's hands in her hair forced her head
back so that he could look at her.

'For Christ's sake, Lani!' he muttered half-

savagely, but then, seeing the tears glistening in her
eyes, he brought her close to him again and buried
his face in the tangled curtain of red-gold silk. 'Lani,
1 can't stop now.' he told her in a tortured voice, and

she held her breath as he began to move.

To her immense surprise, he didn't hurt her.

Unknowingly, her body had been prepared for him,

and as her breathing quickened in tune with his, she
found herself rising to meet the powerful thrust of
his loins. Indeed, there was something incredibly
satisfying in feeling him inside her, possessing her,
filling her, and her mouth opened wide to the
sensual flick of his tongue. With her teeth sinking
into his skin as the sensations he was arousing
brought her emotions to fever pitch, she could
hardly believe the animal-like moans she could hear
were issuing from her throat, but when the climax
carne, she cried out in wonder, her nails raking
convulsively along the firm, smooth curve of his
shoulder.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was some time later that Lani heard the sound of

her father's Daimler turning into the drive. It could
have been several minutes or several hours, she
wasn't exactly sure. All she was sure of was that
Jake was still stretched like a lazy panther beside
her, his leg and his arm ensuring she could not
escape without his notice.

'Hey,' he protested sleepily, when she struggled

into a sitting position. 'Lani, don't go away. Not
yet.' His eyes caressed her. 'We haven't finished.'

'1 have,' declared Lani frantically, scrambling off

the couch. 'Oh, please, you must hurry. Put your
clothes on nowl Can't you hear that engine? It's my
father's car.'

Jake shifted on to his back, folding his arms

behind his head without shame. 'So what?' he
asked flatly. 'What do you want me to do? Grab
my clothes and climb down the drainpipe? Lani, 1
know you've never done this before.' He grimac-
ed. 'Who better? But forget it. You can introduce
me to your father. 1 doubt if he'Il even remember
me.'

Lani expelled her breath in consternation. 'You

can't be serious!'

'Why not? It's the most sensible solution.'

'Sensible!' Lani shook her head in raw frustration.

There was nothing sensible about introducing her

father to Jake Pendragon, and remembering how

Roger St John had reacted to the young pianist, she

knewa hopeless sense of impotence.
'Put your clothes on,' she begged, hurrying into
her cords and sweater, and with a gesture of indif-
ference, Jake finally got off the couch.

'If you insist,' he murmured, taking advantage of

her fumbling efforts to fasten the button of her
trousers by depositing a lingering kiss at the cor-
ner of her lips. Lani trembled.

'Jake, please-' she whispered, when she could

get her mouth free, and with a careless shrug, he
reached for his clothes.

'If you don't like me the way 1 am, of course,' he

remarked with mocking insouciance, and Lani
gazed at him helplessly, unable to tear her eyes
away.

'I-it's not that,' she protested breathlessly, as he

zipped up his jeans, and Jake relented.

'1 know,' he assured her, his husky tone sending

shivers of remembered ecstasy along her spine. 'Do
you think I'd be so obedient if 1 didn't think you
cared?'

'Oh, Ja kef'

Her limbs melted, and for a few more moments

she watched him as he pulled on his shirt and
fastened the buttons. There was an acute pleasure
in sharing this intimacy with him, and her eyes
moved over him possessively, delighting in the
abandonment.

'1 wouldn't advise you to look at me like that, , he

told her at last, picking up his jacket, and Lani's
heart flipped at the naked hunger in his eyes. 'Now,
do 1 look presentable? Do you think your father
will approve? I trust I don't look as if I've spent

the last hour making passionate love to his

daughter.'

'You look good to me,' murmured Lani unsteadi-

ly, trying to respond to his attempt to lighten the
situation, and Jake' s arm encirded her waist, draw-
ing her against him.

'You know how I rea11y feel, don't you?' he in-

quired, the hoarseness of emotion overlying his low
attractive tones. 'And we have things to talk about,
don't we? So-te11 your father we're having dinner
together, hmm? Tonight, I want there to be no
interruptions.'

'Jake!' Lani looked up at him helplessly. 'I-Ican't

do that.'

'Why not? Do you want me to do it?' he asked

evenly, but Lani quickly shook her head.

'1 can't ... introduce you to my father,' she stated

blankly, trying to ignore the sudden narrowing of
those catlike eyes. 'You-you did prcmise to leave
if-if Daddy carne home. Please, let me handle this
myway.'

'If you insist.' Jake lifted his shoulders in a

curiously defeated gesture, and Lani was almost
tempted to give in. But the memory of how her
father had looked when he spoke of Jake Pendragon
forced her to sustain her guard, and tentatively, she
opened the studio door.

'1-1 think my father's gone into his study,' she

said, after listening for a momento 'Come on. Let's
go. You can leave without him even knowing
you've been here.'

'If that's what you want.' Jake bent to turn out the
lamp. 'But remember, this was your idea, not mine.'
Halfway down the stairs, Lani began to under-

stand why Jake had been so unwilling to leave in

this underhand way. His lovemaking-their being
together-had be en something sweet and beauti-
fuI. She was spoiling it. She was turning their
meeting into something dandestine and tawdry, a
sordid little affair, only worthy of concealment.

'Jake-'

She turned to him then, half persuaded that

telling the truth could not be so bad. Then she heard
the sound of the study door. Panic flared, rawand
basic, and the need for subterfuge far outweighed
that fleeting desire for confession. Without thought
for anything but the need to protect herself and her
father from any further pain, she caught Jake' s hand
and tugged him down the stairs, opening the door
and propelling him outside with a careless di s-
regard for his feelings.

'Wait!' Only as his fingers fastened round her

wrist did she re alise that he had permitted her
reckless ejection when he could quite easily have
resisted her. 'Tonight,' he said harshly. 'You're
having dinner with me tonight. Come to the hotel.
1'11 meet you in the lobby at seven o' clock.'

'No!' Lani could hear her father coming along the

hall and she blankly shook her head. '1 can't.' she
said unsteadily. '1 can't have dinner with you!' and
pulling her wrist free, she dosed the door abruptly,
before he could protest.

'Daddy!' .

Lani was appa11ed at her own duplicity as she

turned to greet her father. With her back pressed
. firmly against the fluted panel s of the door, as if by
doing so she could prevent him from seeing the

shadow of the man walking down the path, she

gazed at him innocently, as if the idea that only
minutes before she had been lying naked in a man's
arms was nothing but foolish fantasy.

'Lani!' Her father looked at her in some surprise.

'Have you just come in?'

'1-' The temptation to say she had was appeal-

ing, but no one would believe she had been out
without a coat, and in any case, he was already
having his suspicions. 'No.'

'Someone's been here,' he said perceptively,

almost as if he could smell Jake's after-shave. 'A
mano Itwasa man, wasn'tit, Lani?Who was it?Dol
know him? And where were you when 1 got home?'

Lani expelled her breath a little unevenly. '1-

we-we were in the studio,' she said, controlling
her colour with difficulty. 'He-well, it was a friend
of Miles', actually. John-John Brecon,' this as her
eyes alighted on the painting Jake had noticed
earlier.

'Really?' Roger St John was looking distinctly

sceptical now, and judging that jake had had plenty
of time to make his escape, Lani left the door to stroll
with admirable casualness into the drawing room.

'Yes, really,' she said, hoping her father would

follow her, and breathing a sigh of relief when he
did. 'He-er-he' s interested in my style of illustra-
tion. I've been showing him the sketches for the
newbook.'
'So why was it necessary for him to lea ve with
such despatch?' Roger inquired caustically. '1
assume he's one of those long-haired youths 1 find
so obnoxious. 1 can think of no other reason for you
to behave like Mata Hari.'

'1 didn't behave like Mata Hari.' Lani was stung

by his tone. Hostility was one thing, contempt was
another. 'He-he's quite nice actually. Now ... did
you ha ve a good day? Would you like me to get you
a drink?'

‘I’ll have a Scotch and soda,' said her father

tersely, seating himself by the fire Mrs Evans had lit
earlier. 'So if this young man was respectable, why
was 1 not permitted to meet him?'

Lani sighed. '1 didn't think you'd want to,' she

said, after a moment's pause. Then, with inspira-
tion: 'You don' t usually have any time for my fellow
artists.'

'So the man's an artist, is he? 1 might have

guessed.' Roger St John' slips curled scornfully. '1' m
not altogether sure 1 approve of young Rossiter
sending him round here. After all, he knows you' re
here alone. The chap could have been an out-and-
out bounder.'

Tm not a child, , said Lani tensely, closing her

eyes for a moment at the realisation of how accurate
her words had become. It hardly seemed credible
that she had given herself to Jake so completely.
With none of the shame she felt sure was yet to
come ...

'I'm surprised you let him in,' declared her father

persistently, and she felt an immense sense of
weariness.

'He-he phoned first,' she said, walking towards

the door.

'Who phoned?' Her father got to his feet to follow

her. .

'I-Miles, of course,' exclaimed Lani unhappily,

realising how many lies she was having to tell to

defend just one. 'Honestly, Daddy, it's no big deal.

Forget it. He's gone now, for heaven's sake.' She
broke off a little tensely and then added steadily,
'What would you like to eat? Mrs Evans has left us a
pork pie. Or 1 could cook you a steak, if you' d
rather.'

'Oh, the pie will do,' said her father impatiently,

not really giving the matter a lot of thought. He
followed her into the kitchen. 'What did you say the
fellow's name was? Brecon? John Brecon? Should 1
have seen his work?

'Oh, Daddy!'Just for a moment, Lani's tenuously-

he Id control cracked, and her voice revealed its
sudden weakness. But then, with an effort, she
steeled herself again, and turning to the fridge, she
said determinedly, 'Does it really matter? You're
not really interested in painting, are you? Now-
would you like a salad with the pie, or shall 1 bake
some potatoes?'

Roger St John sniffed. 'You're not very forthcom-

ing, are you, Lani? After all, 1 did come home while
you were entertaining a young man upstairs in my
house, didn't I? 1 don't think my anxiety is so
unreasonable. You're still so ... innocent in some
ways.'

Innocent!Lani's stomach contracted. Not any

longer, she thought bitterly, as the import of her
actions began to gnaw at her. Not since Jake had
forced his way into her life, teaching her the subtle
difference between persuasion and participation,
seduction and submission.

The evening was a disaster in every way. The

simple meal taken with her father was an uncom-
fortable affair, made the more so by her unwilling-

ness todiscuss the man he knew as John Brecon.

She realised her attitude was probably not very
sensible in the circumstances, but it was impossible
for her to speak of J ake without experiencing a sense
of guilt for what she had permitted to happen. She
had always regarded herself as someone capable of
controlling her emotions, and even that interlude in
the park had not warned her of the real danger of his
presence. This afternoon had been an illumination
and a revelation, a mortifying discovery that she
was as vulnerable as anyone else.

When the meal was over, a slightly disgruntled

Roger St John excused himself to work in his study,
and Lani returned to her studio to try and recapture
the mood of the afternoon. But it was impossible.
The room was imbued with Jake's presence. She
even fancied she could still smell his male scent, and
the tumbled cushions on the couch bore their own
witness. Dear God, she thought despairingly, she
would never be able to work in here again! She
would always see him here, looking over her shoul-
der at her drawing board, pulling her towards him,
kissing her and caressing her and loving her ...

No! Not love, she told herself severely. What he

had done owed no allegiance to that much-abused
emotion. He had wanted her. He had told her so.
He had made her want him. And she had,she re-
membered painfully. She had wanted him so badly,
it had be come a physical ache inside her. But the
trouble was, her feelings had been so much less
equivocal than his. In her mind, wanting and loving
were one and the same thing, and the line drawn
between the two had been obscured by his sexual
expertise. She had no longer been in control of her

mind or her body, and even now she could still

recall the way he had made her feel, She had loved
him then, she remembered, with a helpless con-
tempt for her own body' s betraya!. All her senses-
touch, taste, sight, smell, even the sound of his
voice--had seduced her to a state of eager surren-
der, and if she despised herself now it was a little
late to feel remorse.

Seating herself at the drawing board, she gazed

unseeingly at the picture of Matilda and Mogbat.
How could he, she asked herself painfully. How
could he use her as he had, and then return to Clare
as if nothing had happened? For she had few doubts
that that was what he would do. He had gone with
Clare to Paris. He had said so. He had taken advan-
tage of the introductions she had arranged for him,
and after escorting her to Milan he had left. What
reason had he given her mother for returning to
England? What reason would he give for returning
to Milan? Lani shook her head confusedly, finding it
suddenly too torturous to be borne, and putting her
head down on her arm, she gave way to the tears
that had threatened for so long.

For several days the atmosphere between Lani and

her father remained strained. The subject of John
Brecon was never mentioned, but it was there in
both their minds, and Lani guessed her father was
sulking because she had be en so uncommunicative.
However, as the time for their departure to Antigua
approached, other considerations became of more
importance, and although the idea of a holiday had
never seemed less appealing, Lani forced herself to
behave as if she was looking forward to it. There

were dothes to be bought and currency to be

exchanged, and last-minute shopping expeditions
for things like toothbrushes and suntan cream. Her
state of mind and the dissatisfaction she was
experiencing with her work were temporarily
numbed by these diversions. Even her father began
to show some interest when the tickets and the
hotel brochure arrived from the travel agent, and
they spent several evenings discussing the final

arrangements. .. .

Even so, Lani still found herself getting up first In

the mornings so that she could scan the daily paper
for news of Jake before her father took it to the
office. The columns had been full of articles about
him just after his recital at the Royal Albert Hall, but
now they were totally void of information, and she
could only assume that, like her mother, he was
spending Christmas in Milan. She told herself she
was doing this for her father, that her mterest
stemmed from a desire to protect him-but it wasn't
really true. Despite her anguish, she desperately
wanted to know where Jake was and what he was
doing, and these weeks without that knowledge
were tearing her in two.

The day before they were due to leave for Anti-

gua, she did something which afterwards she bitter-
ly regretted; she telephoned the Gloucester Court
Hotel and asked to speak to Mr Pendragon.

The receptionist, a young woman with a decided

opinion of herself, was not particularly friendly.
'I'm not sure that Mr Pendragon is in the hotel,' she
declared haughtily. 'Who shall 1 tell his secretary is
calling? Are you a relative, Miss-Miss-'

'He is staying there then?' said Lani, unwilling to

give her name, and the receptionist cleared her

throat.

'Mr Pendragon has a suite at this hotel, yes,' she

affirmed crisply. 'However, he does not take unsoli-
cited calls, nor does he encourage fans to hang
about the lobby-'
'I'm not a fanl' Lani interrupted indignantly,
stung by the other girl's contemptuous tone. 'Oh,
forget it.' she added, putting down her receiver,
and then sat for several minutes on the stairs, with
her head buried in her hands. She was no further
forward. She still had no idea whether Jake had
returned to Italy or noto And short of going to his
hotel and keeping a watching vigil, there was no-
thing more she could do.

The ten days she and her father spent in Antigua

passed in a haze of blue skies, hot sunshine and
blue-green waters. The beaches of Antigua were
almost white, coral sand bleached by the sun, and
the waters that lapped about them were warm and
soft and crystal clear.

Although Lani had started out with the distinct

belief that she would not be able to relax, she did,
and while she was not altogether sorry when it was
time to return to England, she did get more from the
holiday than she had expected.

To begin with, it was a relief to be away from

London, from British newspapers and from the
constant fear of coming upon Jake's image in one
medium or another. It was a relief too to know that
when the telephone rang it could not be for her, and
even her father lost his look of consternation. If he
had be en disappointed that her mother was not

staying on the island, he made no mention of it, and

gradually they were both absorbed into the easy
tempo of Caribbean life.

London, when they returned to it one grey Janu-

ary day, was suffering the after-effects of a snow-
storm, which had brought down power lines in the
West country and closed several rail routes into the
city. Although Mrs Evans had left the heating on in
Pelham Court in their absence and had lighted fires
for their return, the house still felt decidedly chilly
after their holiday in the sun. Lani, looking into her
studio after depositing her cases in her room, shiv-
ered at the condensation on the windows, and
hurried downstairs for afternoon tea, realising she
still had little enthusiasm for starting work again.

To her dismay, her father developed another cold

only days after their return. The cold damp weather,
combined with his determination to return to
work whatever the temperature, had proved too
much for his fragile constitution, and Dr Lawson
was worried as he confronted the girl in the sitting
room.

'You rea11y must persuade him to take more care

of himself, Lani,' he exclaimed. 'I'm afraid it's pleur-
isy this time, and it could easily turn into pneumo-
nia. Your father' s a sick man. The good this holiday
has done has a11 be en wasted because of his ob-
stinacy.'

Lani bit her lip. I’ll see that he stays in bed,

doctor. I'll do everything 1 can to help him get well.'
'1 know you will.' Dr Lawson viewed her anxious
face sympathetica11y. 'Don't worry. He'll be okay.
Just don't let him get to his files until 1 say so.'

It was an anxious few days until Roger St John's

temperature subsided and the pain he experienced

every time he coughed disappeared. Lani seemed to
spend all her time in the sickroom, and her legs
ached from running up and down stairs with trays
of soup and broth, scrambled eggs and savoury beef
jelly. Mrs Evans did her share, but Lani could not
allow her to trail up the stairs every time her em-
ployer needed a meal or his medicine, and in con-
sequence, the girl fell into bed most nights too
exhausted to be prey to her nerves.

However, on the day when the doctor pro-

nounced that her father was fit enough to get up for
the afternoon, Lani left the house for the first time
since their return from Antigua. Dr Lawson had
advised her to go out and get some air. She was
looking pale, he said, and he didn't want another
invalid on his hands. So, wrapped up warmly
against the chill of the icy wind, Lani reversed the
Capri out of the garage, and drove to Regent's Park.
She drove there deliberately, she knew, but she
couldn't help it, and ignoring the painful twinge of
memory, she set off across the frozen turf.

There were fewer people about than on that after-

noon when she and Jake had walked here--only a
few hardy animal lovers with their pets, and one or
two children, accompanied by a parent, or perhaps
a nanny, slipping and sliding resiliently across the
ice on the pools. London in January, she thought,
hunching her shoulders against the unwilling re-
minder. Clare had said she would be returning to
London in January. Was that why she had come
here? Because she had imagined Jake might come
he re too?
Her mood shattered, Lani turned back to her car.

She was angry with herself for allowing thoughts of

Jake to destroy her peace of mind, and she tossed
her scarf and leather coat into the back before
slumping into her seat.

Once behind the wheel, however, her emotions

would not so easily be controlled. Almost without
her volition, it seemed, she turned right, instead of
left, out of the parking area, and her fingers flexed
convulsively as she circled the park and followed
the signs to Marble Arch. Gloucester Court Gate
was only a stone' s throw from A venue Mews, and it
was possible to drive past the Gloucester Court
Hotel by taking a slight detour. Unerringly, she
took the necessary diversions to bring her past the
hotel, and gazed up at its windows rather recklessly
as she drove by.

The hotel was a grey stone building fronting

directly on to the street, with pillars supporting its
impressive facade. As she passed, she glimpsed the
reception area beyond, with its subdued lighting
and plush carpeting, and a straight-backed commis-
sionaire who saluted all his guests. There was no
way she could walk in there without drawing atten-
tion to herself, she thought dejectedly, slowing
almost to a standstill. She started automatically
when the driver behind sounded his horno It was a
stupid idea anyway, she told herself severely, as
she drove back to Pelham Court. But in spite of
Jake's cruelty and his selfishness, she still wanted to
see him.

Her father was sitting in the drawing room when

she got back. He was still wearing his dressing
gown, but he looked much better, settled in front of
the open fire Mrs Evans had lighted earlier. Lani

saw at once that he had been working, but she

couldn't blame him for that. It was more than a
week since he had touched his briefcase, and in her
present frame of mind, Lani thought she could
understand his need for an occupation.

I’ll ask Mrs Evans to bring us so me tea,' she said,

after depositing a cold kiss on his cheek, but Roger
caught her arm as she would have drawn away.
'There was a call for you,' he said, looking up into
her startled face. 'That young man-Brecon? I think
it was him.'
Lani straightened with an immense effort. After
the time she had just spent thinking of Jake, it was
as if her thoughts had conjured his phone call, and
she gazed at her father blankly, unable to reply.

'Well?' Her father was waiting for her answer.

'Are you going to ring him? I presume you have his
number as he didn't leave a message.'

'1-' Lani licked her dry lips. 'Are you sure it was
... him?'

'No, I'm not sure,’ her father's response was

somewhat irritable. 'Mrs Evans took the call. She
said it was a man, and as he didn't give his name, I
assumed it must be him. She said he had rung
before.'

'Before?'Lani blinked, knew a moment's wild

euphoria, and then sobered. Of course. He had
rung before. The afternoon he had accosted her in
Glendower Street.

'What does this young man mean to you?' her

father was asking now, his expression showing
disapproval. '1 thought-well, before we went
away you allowed me to think your association was
purely professional. Now, I'm not so sure.'

'Oh, Daddy ... '

'No, Lani. I insist that you tell me. I am your

father, after all. I think I have a right to know.'
Lani bent her head. 'There's nothing to know,'
she mumbled unhappily.

'Yet Mrs Evans says he has rung several times.'

'Several times!' Lani's head jerked up. 'Wh-
when?'

'Perhaps you' d better ask her,' declared her

father tersely, returning to the papers on his lapo
'Obviously I've been wrong about you. You are
your mother's daughter, after all.'

Lani hesitated, staring frustratedly at her father' s

bent head, but when he didn't look up again, she
couldn't restrain herself any longer. Whirling
about, she went out of the room, covering the few
yards ID the kitchen in a matter of moments.

'Someone rang, Mrs Evans?' she asked rather

breathlessly, as the housekeeper turned at her en-
trance, and the old woman nodded.

'Some man,' she agreed, wiping her hands on her

apron. 'Is your father wanting his tea? I've made
some cheese scones. They'll be ready in a minute.'
'He said-Daddy said-this isn't the first time
he's called.'

Lani's grammar was suffering badly, and Mrs

Evans frowned. '1 didn't hear him calling,' she
exclaimed, checking the contents of the tray. '1
thought he' d likely wait until you got back-'

'Not Daddy, Mrs Evans.' Lani was handling this

badly, and she knew it. "The man-the man who
rang; Daddy said you said he had rung before.'
'Oh, him.' Mrs Evans looked up, her eyes missing
nothing on Lani' s flushed face. 'Yeso That' s right, he

did. 1 meant to tell you, but what with Mr St John

being ill, and you run off your feet-'

'When, Mrs Evans? When did he ring?' Lani had

to know, whatever the housekeeper might be think-
ing. 'Please. I' d like to know.'

'Well, let me see ... ' Mrs Evans cupped her chin
with one hand. '1 suppose the first time was the day
you went away.' She sighed. 'Yes. 1 remember
you' d left for the airport only minutes before, but of
course 1 didn't tell him that.'

Lani swallowed. 'No?'

'No.' Mrs Evans was very definite. '1 mean-I

didn' t know who he was, did I? He might ha ve been
up to no good. You don't go around telling people
the house is going to be empty for ten days, now do
you?'

'1 suppose not.' Lani tried to be patient. 'So ... he

phoned again?'

'Yes.' The housekeeper nodded. 'On Christmas

Eve, it was. He just caught me. I' d come up to make
sure everything was okay, you know, and 1 got
quite a shock when the phone rang.'

Lani drew an uneven breath. 'So what did you

say?'

Mrs Evans shrugged. '1 told him you' d gone away

for Christmas, didn't I? 1 didn't let on 1 was away
too. Anyway, he said he' d ring after you got back
and he has.'

'Today.'

'Well, he might have rung before,' admitted Mrs

Evans unwillingly. 'While your father was ill, 1 took
the phone off the hook a time or two. Well-' this as
Lani' s eyes widened in dismay '-1 knew there was
nothing spoiling at that office of his, and you know

what he's like when he thinks people are trying to

get in touch with him.'

It was a reasonable explanation and remembering

how ill her father had been Lani could not fault Mrs
Evans' logic. But she couldn't help wondering how
often Jake had rung, and what his reaction had been
to the permanently engaged signal.

'So ... today,' she prompted, as Mrs Evans

turned to take her baking out of the oven. 'What-
what did he say? Did you tell him 1 was out?'

'Yes.’ The housekeeper set the tray of golden

brown scones on the ceramic hob. 'Though whether
he believed me, 1 don't know. 1 think he thought
that excuse was wearing rather thin.'

'But didn't you tell him Daddy had been ill?'

exclaimed Lani impatiently, and then coloured
anew at the housekeeper's raised eyebrows. 'Well,'
she excused herself uncomfortably, 'he must im-
agine I'm avoiding him. Didn't you say anything?'

'What else could 1 say?' exclaimed Mrs Evans

indignantly. 'It was the truth, wasn't it? It seems to
me there' s something funny going on. Why doesn't
he call at the house?'

Lani turned away. 'Oh ... it doesn't matter,' she

muttered, tucking her thumbs into the belt of her
jeans. ‘I’m sorry if 1 was short with you. 1 guess ... 1
guess I'm tired, that's all.'

'Aren't we all?' grumbled Mrs Evans dourly, and

Lani left her buttering the scones with some aggres-
sion.

The doorbell rang when she was halfway up the

stairs, and realising the housekeeper was busy,
Lani reluctantly ran back down to answer it. As on
that other afternoon, it was almost dark outside,

and she turned on the lights before opening the

door.

As before, he was standing on the step, the

Porsche parked at the gate for anyone to see. In
black jeans and a black corded jacket, he blended
into the darkness behind him, and only the unusual
pallor of his face was plainly visible.

'So you are in,' he said scathingly, the accusa-

tion-for that was what it was-accompanied by a
contemptuous twisting of his mouth, and before
Lani could make any response, he turned on his
heel and walked away.

CHAPTER NINE

'WAIT!' Without giving herself time to think, Lani

went after him, almost losing her balance on the
slippery path as she reached the gate. 'Jake-Jake,
wait a minute, please! You can't go away without
telling me why you carne.'

He had reached the car and was unlocking it

when she caught up with him, and he turned to her
dispassionately in the fading light. '1 carne to prove
to myself that I was wasting my time,' he told
her coldly. 'The phone calls should have done it,
but I had to be sure it was not some ploy of your
father's.'

'What?' she exclaimed helplessly. 'What is Daddy

supposed to have done? I-Mrs Evans has just told
me about your phone calls. What with us being
away and then my father being ill, I'm afraid she
just forgot.'

Jake expelled his breath on a disbelieving sigh.

'Oh, come on,' he said scornfully. 'You don't really
expect me to believe that, do you? You really didn't
know I've been trying to reach you for over three
weeks?'

'No.' Lani was trembling, but it was not the cold

wind cutting through her shirt and sweater that was
responsible. 'It's true. Why should 1 lie to you?
Since we got back from Antigua, my father' s been in
bed with pleurisy.'

Jake's narrowed eyes scanned her anxious face.

'Do you mean to tell me that until this afternoon you

didn' t know I' d been phoning you?'

'That's right.'

'You've been in Antigua?'

'Over Christmas, yes. I-my father hasn't been

well since the winter started, and the doctor recom-
mended that he got some sunshine.'

'So you went to Antigua?' Jake's lips curled.

'Why?'

Lani shrugged. 'It was my father's choice.' She

bent her head, '1 think perhaps he thought my
mother might spend Christmas there.'

'But she didn't.'

Lani lifted her head and looked at him. 'You' d

know that better than l.'

'Oh, yes.' Jake's voice was flat. 'Clare spent

Christmas in Italy. She' s due back this evening after
a successful season in Milano'

'This evening!' Lani glanced half-apprehensively

over her shoulder, as if afraid her father might have
overheard, 'Oh!' She c1eared her throat convulsive-
ly, 'And-and are you on your way to meet her?'

'Not right now, no.' His tone was dry. 'This is

hardly en route to Heathrow, is it?' He raked back
his hair with a weary hand, 'No. As 1 said a few
moments ago, 1 carne to o o o well, to see you, 1
suppose.' He let his breath out heavily. 'Oh, God!
Can we go so me place and talk?'

Lani stared at him. 'Now?'

'Yes, now, for Christ's sake,' he agreed harshly.

'Or do you have something else to do? If so, just say
the word and 1'11-'

'Oh, Jake!' Her hands groped helplessly for his

hand, closing round the supple texture of his palm,

squeezing the cold fingers that curled about her

own. 'Jake,' she said again, unsteadily, and uncar-
ing that they were in full view of anyone who might
care to look, he bent his head to hers with unerring
accuracy.

His kiss was hard and searching, his hand at the

nape of her neck almost crue11y possessive o Lani' s
lips parted involuntarily, her hands reaching out to
grasp the lapels of his jacket, and the coldness
inside her melted at the sensual invasion of his
tongue.

'Get your coat,' he said at last, lifting his head

with evident reluctance, and Lani, her senses spin-
ning back from that mindless precipice, gazed at
him blankly,

'My coat?'

'You may need it later,' he said huskily. 'Don't be

long. 1'11 wait in the car.'

'I-I-my father...'

'Tell him it' s an emergency,' said Jake roughly. 'It

is. Now, do you want me to do it?'

Lani shook her head and then turned rather

dazedly towards the house. As she did so, the
undrawn drawing-room curtains twitched ever so
slightly, and she guessed, with a sinking heart, that
her father had seen everything. She should have
known, she thought, quickening her step; she
should have guessed curiosity would get the better
of him, She only hoped he had not identified her
visitor in the streetlights, She could not face that
now. Not now!

Roger St John was standing at the drawing-room

door when she entered the house, and she had to
steel herself to face him after what he had seen.

'I-I'm going out for a while,' she said carefully,

lifting her coat from the chest. 'You don't mind, do
you? I shan't be very long. I-Mrs Evans is making
the tea. I'll see you when I get back.'

Her father's fist clenched on the lintel of the door.

'You're going out with him?'

Lani glanced behind her. 'Yes.'

'That' s John Brecon?'

Lani coloured. 'Yes.'

'1 thought you said you hardly knew him.'

Lani sighed. 'I'll tell you about it later, can I?

I-he's waiting.'
'Brecon?'

Lani moistened her lips. 'Why do you keep

saying that?'

'That is what you called him, isn't it?'

Lani draped her coat over her arm. 'You know it

is.'

'Do I?' Her father's jaw hardened angrily. 'You're

a liar, Lani! A liar, do you hear me? My own daugh-
ter-the one person in the world I thought I could
trust, and you've been lying to me!'

Lani blanched. 'What do you mean?'

'That man-' her father lifted his arm and pointed

'-that man is not John Brecon any more than I am.
That name-it was meant to deceive me, wasn't it?
You little liar! My God!' He clenched his fists. '1
thought I knew you. I thought we cared about one
another. And now I find you've been consorting
with him, with your mother's lover! In heaven' s
name, have you taken leave of your senses? Are you
going mad or am I? How can you? Your mother's
latest fancy man! The parasite she's been sleeping
with for the past six months!'

Lani was too shocked to defend herself. Although

she already knew the things her father was saying,
when they were spoken aloud they resounded
through her brain like a death knell to any hopes she
might be nurturing. Put into words, there seemed
no possible justification for her behaviour. Put into
words, how could she even begin to imagine she
and Jake might have a future together?

'You .. '. don' t . . . understand-' she began

unsteadily, not sure herself how she was going to
go on, when a sudden awareness silenced her.
Someone was behind her, some other person's
breathing had joined her own and her father' s,
some still, quiescent presence, attendant to her
plea. Her head flew round immediately, her eyes
widening when she found Jake standing right be-
hind her, and her uncertainties were laid waste by
the disturbing vulnerability of his gaze.

'Get outof my house!'

Roger St John's incensed command gave sub-

stance to his feelings, but Jake showed no emotion
at this unconventional introduction. His manner
was calm as he looked at Lani, his voice cool as he
asked, almost casually, 'Are you ready?'

'No, she's not!' Roger stepped forward then, his

breath coming shallowly as he laboured for control.
His hand shot out to imprison his daughter's arm,
and facing Jake threateningly, he said again, 'Get
out of my house, do you hear? Lani is not going
anywhere with you!'

'Don' t you think we should allow Lani to decide

that for herself?' Jake inquired quietly, and his
superior height and youth made him an unequal
adversary. 'I'm sorry you feel this way, Mr St John,

but I have no quarrel with you. I simply want to talk

to Lani, and I intend to do so.'

'Is that what you call it?' snapped Roger contemp-

tuously. 'Talking!I saw what you did to her just
now, and there was very little in the way of con-
versation that I could see.'

'Daddy, please-' Lani was troubled by the hectic

colour in her father' s features and by the obvious
fact that in any encounter Jake was bound to come
out the victor. 'Daddy, can't we go into the drawing
room and talk about this like civilised people? The
night air isn't good for you. You're only just out of
bed!'

'That man is not coming into my house,' dec1ared

her father vehemently. 'Go on. Go! Get out of here,
before I call the police and have you thrown out. I
don't know how you have the nerve to come here
when you're living off my wife.'

Jake's lean features hardened, and Lani's heart

pumped anxiously. 'Clare is not your wife, Mr St
John,' he stated succinctly. 'Nor do I intend to
defend our relationship to you. Please let go of your
daughter' s arm. I don' t intend to leave here without
her.'

Lani groaned. The polite words, spoken so cour-

teously, held an unmistakable trace of menace, and
although she no longer knew what her feelings
were, she could not allow this situation to deterio-
rate any further.

'Please, Daddy,' she said unsteadily, 'you'd bet-

ter let me go.'

'With him?'

'Yes. With him.' Lani glanced uneasily at Jake's

taut face. '1'11 be all right, honestly-'

'That was who you had here that day I carne home
and caught you, wasn't it?' her father was saying
incredulously. 'No wonder you sneaked out as soon
as my back was turned, Pendragon. Pendragon!'He
sneered. 'What kind of a name is that?'

'My father's, sir,' replied Jake flatly. 'And I did

not sneak out. Your daughter-'

'Oh, for heaven' s sake, stop it! Both of you.' Lani

could see the mist wreathing round the lamp post
outside the house, and the cold air drifting in
through the open door was freezing. 'You must get
out of this draught, Daddy. You're not well. You
know what the doctor said.'

'Clare's to blame for this,' dec1ared Roger St John

bitterly, shaking his head, and Lani realised he
wasn't listening to her. 'Corrupting her own daugh-
ter-'

'Clare has nothing to do with it,' said Jake in-

cisively. 'Lani, are you coming or not?'

Lani moved her head helplessly, torn between

love for her father and love for the man who he
believed had betrayed him. Years of sharing and
affection bound her to her father, but that gentle
love could not be compared to the feelings she had
for Jake, How could she choose between fondness
and fascination, tenderness and passion, parent
and lover. There was no choice to be made. No
matter what her brain might dictate, her emotions

would always prevail. .

'1 have to go with him, Daddy,' she said unstead-

ily now, gently but firmly removing her arm from
his grasp. 'Please, try to understand. I can't do
anything else. I love him.'

She knew a terrible compunction when her father

turned away. His face had contorted at her words,

and he grasped the frame of the drawing-room door
as he passed, as if needing that added support. It
was a terrible moment, a moment when Lani felt as
if she had suddenly gone beyond her depth into
waters both uncharted and dangerous. Why was
she doing this, she asked herself wildly. Why was
she abandoning the man who had cared for her a11
these years for a relationship as nebulous as the mist
that was invading the house? And then she turned
to look at Jake, and a11 her questions were
answered.

'Sha11 we go?' he suggested quietly, making no

move to persuade her, and Lani hesitated only a
second before nodding her head.

'Yes,' she said tensely. 'Yes, let's go,' and pre-

ceded him out of the door with tears smarting
behind her eyes.

In the car Jake gave her a sideways glance. 'Where

do you want to go?' he asked, reaching for the
ignition, and Lani lifted her shoulders.
'Anywhere,' she said, avoiding his eyes.
'Couldn't we-couldn't we have tea somewhere?'
Jake considered. '1 guess so.'

'But not at your hotel,' she got out hastily. '1

mean, I'd rather go to--to a café, or something.'
'Okay.' Jake made no comment on her qualifica-
tion and without another word thrust the car into
forward gear.

London was a hectic mass of people, lights and

traffic. It was the rush-hour, and everyone seemed
bent on getting home in the shortest time possible.
Pedestrians stepped carelessly into the road in front
of the car; other vehicles squeezed together, fender

to fender; buses surged out ahead of them with a

complete disregard for road courtesy, and the angry
flashing of lights and honking of horns was a crazy
accompaniment to the thumping in Lani' s head.

'Christ!' muttered Jake succinctly when one par-

ticularly reckless individual almost carne to grief
beneath the wheels of the Porsche, and with a
smothered oath, he pu11ed into the side of the road
beside a now-vacated parking meter. 'This will have
to do,' he said, glancing briefly up and down the
thoroughfare. 'We can walk from here, if you have
no objections. There' s bound to be a snack-bar
somewhere.'

'A11right.'
Lani groped blindly for her coat, but before she
could open her door, Jake's hand closed over hers.
'Are you?' he demanded huskily. 'A11 right, 1 mean?
Oh, he11, Lani, 1 didn't realise how your father felt.'

'Didn't you?' Lani looked at him through lashes

that were spikily damp. 'How did you expect him to
feel?'

'1 don't know.' Jake ran a frustrated hand round

the back of his neck. 'Clare said-oh, Christ! Clare
said the divorce had been undefended. She said
they were still friends. How the he11 was 1 to know
your father still harboured a grudge against her?'

Lani bent her head. 'You must have realised

that-that he wouldn't approve of ... of our rela-
tionship.'

'Why not?' Jake's lean features were suddenly

guarded. 'Because of my association with your
mother? That's a professional arrangement. No-
thing more.'

'How can you say that?' Lani lifted her head to

stare at him in the shadowy lights from the .street

outside. 'Why, everyone knows that ... that ... '

'That what?' he demanded harshly. 'That your

mother and I have been seen together on frequent
occasions? That I've been her escort for numerous
social engagements? That she likes everyone to
think that we're having an affair, because it's good
for her image?'

Lani caught her breath. 'Are-are you saying

you've never slept with my mother?'

Jake's mouth hardened. 'I'm saying you

shouldn't believe everything you read in the news-
papers.' He thrust open his door. 'Now shall we get
some tea?'

Lani got out of the car on to legs that were

distinctly unsteady, and she was glad when Jake
took her coat from her and held it so that she could
push her arms into the sleeves. His denial of every-
thing she had believed about him had left her feel-
ing weak and confused, and she no longer knew
what she believed and what she didn't.

5he knew she must look a mess, her eyes red and
swollen from her tears, her mouth bare of any
lipstick after Jake's passionate possession. It was
unfair that he should look so darkly handsome and
controlled, while her pale features mirrored every
emotion.

A small café advertising cream buns turned out to

be little more than a smoky dive, but Jake settled
Lani at a comer table and went to fetch two mugs of
treac1y tea. Unlikely as it seemed, he was quite at
home in this environment, and she reflected bitterly
that he could adapt to any surroundings. She could
quite believe in his playing piano in so me sleazy

nightc1ub in California, just as she could see him

standing on the stage at the Royal Albert Hall,
taking his final bow. It was one of the most attrac-
tive things about him, and looking about her at the
café's other occupants, she wondered how many

would believe her if she told them who he was.

'So ... ' Jake straddled the chair opposite and

viewed her over the shiny expanse of mottled For-
mica. 'I'm sorry it' s not more salubrious, but I guess
what we have to say can be as easily said here as in
the tea-room at the Ritz.'

'Yes.' Lani touched her cheek nervously. 'In any

case, I'm not really dressed for the Ritz, am I?'

'Do you want me to say you look good enough

to me?' he asked drily. 'If it's compliments you
want-'

'It' s not.' Lani was indignant.

'Then stop worrying about your appearance. No

one's looking at you but me. And I want you.'

'Oh, Jake!' Lani would not meet his eyes, and

growing impatient, he leant across the table and
captured one of her cold hands in both of his.

'1 do. We both know it,' he told her roughly. 'I've

not thought of anyone else since that afternoon we
spent together.'

Lani caught her breath. 'Where-where did you

spend Christmas?'

'Where do you think?' he demanded. 'Here. In

London. Trying to ring you.' .

Lani shook her head. '1 can't believe this ... '
'Why not? It' s the truth. Ask your Mrs-what did
you call her?'

'Evans.'

'Yes, Evans. 5he can verify that I phoned on

Christmas Eve. That was when she told me you had

gone away. I didn't believe her.'

Lani sighed. 'This is crazy!'

'1 agree.' Jake squeezed her fingers between his. '1

did not intend this to happen. As I told you before, I
can't afford to get emotionally involved with any-
one. There's too much at stake. Too many things
that I've already sacrificed my self-respect for.'

Lani stiffened. 'Your self-respect?'

'Yes, my self-respect.' Jake reached across to lift

her chin and force her to look at him. 'Do you think I
like being known as Clare's protégé? Do you think I
like the idea that without her help-without her
financial assistance-I could never have got where
l am now?'

'She supports you?' Lani' s voice was constricted.

'She has.' Jake lifted his shoulders. '1 thought you
knew that. I thought she told you.'

Lani shook her head. 'She didn't tell me.'

'But you knew?' Jake could see the raw uncer-

tainty in her eyes. 'What did Clare tell you? What
fabrication am I guilty of now?'

Lani hesitated a moment, and then when some-

one got up to put a record on the juke box, she
withdrew her hand and he didn't try to stop her.
'She said,' she murmured carefully, 'she said she
wanted us to be friends because . . . because we
were the two people she cared most about.'

'1 see.' Jake's lips twisted. 'And that condemns

me, of course.'

'Isn't it true?' Lani gazed at him.

'That she cares about me?' Jake was deliberately

obtuse.

'Yes. Yes.' Lani's nerves were stretched to

.'

screaming pitch, and the throbbing in her head was

like a hammer in her brain. 'Why haven't you been
honest with me? Why don't you admit that your
relationship with my mother is not the-the busi-
ness arrangement you say it is?'

'So, tell me what you want me to say,' said Jake

bleakly. 'Will it alter the situation if I say I've been to
bed with her? Will our need for one another be any
less if I admit I've had-sex-with your mother.'

Lani gasped. 'How can you ask that?' she choked.

'How can you?' he snapped in a low violent tone,
and she was glad of the heavy beat of the music to
drown his angry voice. 'Oh, Christ, let's get out of
here, before I say something we'll both regret.'

Outside the mist was thickening, and seeing the

illuminated sign of a public house just across the
road from where they were standing, Jake grasped
Lani' s wrist and dragged her after him towards the
lighted entrance. 'We can talk in here,' he said,
hustling her into a dimly-lit bar, and installing her in
a comer booth before going to buy their drinks.

It was dark in the booth, but Lani was grateful for

its enveloping anonymity. It was not the trendy sort
of establishment frequented by a young profess-
ional crowd. It was just an ordinary pub, whose
customers were mostly male, and who showed very
little interest in anything but the beer.

'Cosy, isn't it?' remarked Jake, depositing a mar-

tini in front of her. Then, sliding on to the ban-
quette beside her, he smothered her response
beneath the hungry pressure of his mouth.

It was almost nine o' dock when they emerged,

and by then Lani was too bemused by Jake's love-
making to make any objections when he told her

they were going to his hotel. The abortive caresses

they had exchanged in the smoky atmosphere of
the pub had left her feeling weak, and she was no
longer capable of denying she wanted him just as
much as he wanted her.

The car was cold, but the engine started without

effort, and Jake swung smoothly into the less hectic
stream of traffic. Now there were few crazy ped-
estrians to run the risk of being knocked down, and
the encroaching gloom deterred anyone from driv-
ing recklessly.

It wasn't far from the pub to Gloucester Court

Gate, and in a matter of minutes, Jake was easing
the car into a parking space opposite the hotel, and
coming round the bonnet to help Lani out of her
seat. 'Are you having second thoughts?' he asked
huskily as she got nervously to her feet, but
although Lani knew she should, she quickly shook
her head.

'Hurry,' she said, wrapping her arms about her-

self protectively as he locked the car, and Jake
swung his arm across her shoulders as they walked
into the hotel.

'Good evening, Mr Pendragon!'

The doorman had recognised him, and Lani' s

stomach plunged a little sickeningly as Jake re-
turned his greeting. 'Filthy night, isn't it?' he re-
marked, without any apparent trace of embarrass-
ment, even though the doorman looked at her
curiously, as if trying to decide who she was.
Perhaps he thought she was some unusual type of
call-girl, she pondered uneasily, following Jake into
the lift, but before this thought could crystallise,
Jake drew her into his arms.

'Stop looking so worried,' he ordered, his thumb

brushing her parted lips and probing the moistness
within. 'People come and go here all the time. Your
reputation's quite intact, believe me.'

Lani leaned against him, loving the feel of his

hard body against hers. 'Do you love me?' she
breathed, and Jake' s mouth descended on hers.
'What do you think?' he said against her lips, and
it wasn't until later that she remembered he hadn't
answered her.

Jake's suite was on the eighth floor, and Lani

emerged from the lift looking quite starry-eyed and
totally unaware of how revealing her expression
was. 'You shouldn't look like that,' said Jake some-
what thickly. 'Not before 1 make love to you.' and
Lani giggled.

'1 thought you' d been making love to me all

evening,' she countered as he fumbled for his key,
and Jake regarded her possessively before seeking
her mouth again.
'What we have been doing is not making love,' he
told her unsteadily. 'If it were, 1 wouldn't be finding
it so bloody difficult to put this key in the lock!'

Moments later he succeeded, and he pushed her

forward into a room already lit by half a dozen
shaded lamps. Cream carpet, cream curtains, sofas
upholstered in cream and purple velvet, even a
grand piano standing squarely in the wide window
embrasure=-the room she was confronting bore all
the hall-marks of gracious living. Only when she
saw the high-heeled shoes, upended in the middle
of the carpet, did her wonderment give way to a
shocked awakening.

'What the hell-'

Jake's savage ejaculation was like an echo of her

own reaction, and she turned to look at him blankly
as dismay gave way to condemnation. She had no
need to be told whose shoes they were, nor indeed
any desire to investigate the sounds of occupation
coming through the open door of what she pre-
sumed to be a bedroom. Her mother was here.
There was no other explanation, and her blood
turned to ice at this awful humiliation.

Even so, she was not prepared for what hap-

pened next. As if on cue, Clare appeared in the open
doorway, wearing nothing but a cream silk dressing
gown, the skirt of which flared wide to reveal her
legs as she took the steps to bring her into the room.

'Darling,' she began, and then, as if she had just

be come aware of her daughter' s presence, she
smiled before continuing, 'Darling, how thoughtful
of you to bring Lani to see me!'

Before Lani could say anything, however, before

she could even begin to think what this tableau
might mean, Jake's harsh voice intervened. 'What
are you doing here, Clare?' he demanded. 'Just
what bloody mischief are you hoping to incite
now? You don't belong here. You know that.
You're not welcome here. Now, do you go and
put your clothes on or do I throw you out without
them?'

'Oh, yes, that would make a pretty scene,

wouldn't it?' cried Clare, her voice rising shrilly,
and Lani, who had already faced one scene that day
with her father, did not think she could bear
another.
'If-if you'll excuse me-' she was beginning,
when Jake's fingers clamped about her arm, and

once again she was made an unwilling witness to

something she found totally distasteful.

'You're not going anywhere, Lani,' he told her

heavily. 'For pity's sake, don't jump to conclusions
here. It's not what you think.'

'Isn't it? Isn't it?' Clare gazed at him tremulously.

'How do you think she feels seeing her own mother
treated like this? Don't you think she has any
shame? Doesn't she feel any compassion? Listen to
him, Lani, listen to him! How do you like your
prospective stepfather now?'

'1 am not her prospective stepfather,' snarled Jake

savagely. 'For Christ's sake, Clare, pull yourself
together. I don't know what you think you're doing
or why you're here, but-'

'1 should have thought it was obvious!' declared

Clare, her voice shaking. '1 carne to see you, Jake. To
be with you! Have you forgotten so soon what we
meant to one another?'

'Clare-'

'Mother, please-'

They spoke simultaneously, Jake's anguished use

of her name mingling with Lani' s helpless plea. But it
was to her daughter that Clare turned, her glittering
eyes focusing suspiciously on the girl's pale face.

'Where have you been with him?' she demanded.

'What have you been doing? Oh, don't bother to lie
to me. I can see from your face what's been going
on. You're quite the little viper, aren't you? Did you
do this deliberately? I know you've always been
jealous of me.'

'That's not true.'

Lani' s denial was vehement, and Jake let go of her

arm to approach the older woman. 'Stop this, Clare,

will you?' he said, grimly. 'You know as well as I do,

you and I don't have this kind of a relationship!'

'No, we don't, do we?' Lani blinked bewilderedly

as Clare seemed to perform a volte-face. 'We don't
keep ourselves exclusively for one another, is that
what you're saying? If either of us feels like a
change, we just go out and find someone else,
hmm?'

Jake sighed wearily. 'Clare, for God's sake, let me

get you a cab. Get dressed, and I'll escort you
downstairs.'

'Oh, will you?' Clare carne towards him on the

balls of her feet. 'How gallant! And will you take me
home, too?'

'No.'

Jake's response was final and with a sudden

movement, Clare pressed herself against him, one
arm arching round his neck with deliberate sensu-
ality.

'No?' she breathed, her lips only inches from his,

and Lani turned away from that blatant invitation.
'Go and put your clothes on, Clare.'

The rejection was spoken through his teeth and

because she had her back to them, Lani did not see
what happened. But evidently, taking advantage of
her position, Clare had slipped her free hand into
Jake's pocket, and now she brandished the Porsche
keys with every appearance of triumph.

'I'll drive myself home then,' she exclaimed, her

voice taking on an hysterical pitch. 'Who knows, I
may find someone more to my liking,' and before
Jake could stop her, she had dipped under his
outstretched arm and reached the door.

'Clare!' Jake's temper was getting the better of

him now, and Lani tried to catch her mother's arm

in passing. But Clare was too quick for her, her arm
lashing out wildly as she made good her escape,
and Lani was left looking at Jake in helpless fascina-
tion.

'You've got to go after her,' she said, spreading

her hands wide. 'She' s got next to nothing on. She'Il
freeze.'

'Do you think she doesn't know that?' demanded

Jake violently, but shaking his head in resignation,
he strode off down the hall.

Closing the door, Lani followed them. She didn't

really want to go. She had the unwilling suspicion
that this was all some wild gesture, that Clare had
no more intention of driving herself home than she
had. It was one of her mother' s melodramas. One of
her acting roles she was allowing to carry over into
real life, a deliberate attempt to distract Jake and
destroy whatever she believed was between him
and Lani. Yet, why was she here, at the hotel? How
had she known they were together? If what Jake
said was true, she had had no reason to be there in
his apartment. One of them was lying-but who?

She reached the lift as the gates were closing.

Clare had evidently gone ahead of them, and Jake' s

face was tense as they waited for the elevator to
reach the ground floor. It hardly seemed possible
that only minutes before they had ascended in the
lift so happily, and Lani looked up into Jake's eyes,
as if seeking reassurance.

'It all comes down to who you believe, doesn't it?'

he said flatly, making no move to touch her, and
Lani' slips trembled as the lift doors slid apart.

There was no sign of Clare in the lobby, and

looking about her, Lani wondered how she could

have crossed this space without someone recognis-
ing her. Or perhaps they had, she reflected. After
all, if Clare had pulled her gown about her, it might
conceivably have been confused with an evening
dress. Opera stars were known to be temperamen-
tal and touchy. Who was likely to stop Clare Austin
in full flight?

Half running after Jake' s long stride, she followed

him outside. The grey mist swirled and eddied in
the lights from the hotel, and the cars parked op-
posite were scarcely distinguishable. But Clare's
robe was distinguishable. It showed, wraithlike,
through the gloom, and Lani saw with dismay that
her mother had opened the Porsche and was getting
inside.

'She' s crazy!'

With an impatient oath, Jake started off the pave-

ment towards the car and as he did so Clare fired the
engine. Lani, her palms pressed anxiously against
her cold cheeks, had a grandstand view of her
mother' s expression as she slammed the Porsche
into gear, but even so her cry of warning carne too
late. She doubted Jake believed her mother would
actually go through with it-would actually drive at
him, with every intention of knocking him down.
But she did. There was a horrified moment when
Lani realised what Clare intended to do, when she
started off the path, her arms reaching desperately
for Jake, as if to protect him from the blow-and
then the sickening sound of impact as the car
ploughed into both of them.

CHAPTER TEN

LAN! recovered consciousness in hospital, with a

headache that made all her previous headaches
seem paltry by comparison. Lifting her arm to her
head, she discovered a bandage was covering her
forehead, and even that small exertion left her feel-
ing rather sick.

'Oh, you're awake.'

The matter-of-fact tones of a nurse alerted her to

the fact that she was lying in a narrow hospital bed,
and as her aching brain began to function, panic
flared inside her.

'Jake-' she cried, trying to lever herself up on her

elbows, and her colour ebbed alarmingly as the pain
engulfed her consciousness once again.

The next time she carne round, Sarah was sitting

by her bed, and the unexpected sight of her cousin's
wife brought her back to awareness that much more
quickly. Sarah was reading, and she didn't im-
mediately notice that Lani was awake, and re-
membering what had happened the last time when
she tried to sit up, Lani moistened her dry lips.
'Jake,' she said distinctly. 'What happened to Jake?'
and Sarah thrust her book aside to gaze at her in
evident relief.

'How do you feel?' she asked, leaning forward to

take Lani' s cold hand, which was lying on the cover-
let. 'Oh, Lani, you gave us such a shock! What-
ever possessed you to run into the road like that?'

Lani tried to move her head, but the effort was too
great, and curling her fingers round the other girl's,
she said, "Tell me, Sarah. I want to know. Where is
Jake? Is-is he dead?'

'No. No, of course he's not dead.' Sarah spoke

almost impatiently, but the relief was so great that
Lani's small store of strength deserted her. A little
sigh escaped her as Sarah' s face dissolved into
blackness, and the other girl rang the bell urgently
to summon the nurse.

When next Lani became aware of what was going

on around her, it was dark beyond the windows of
her room. A lamp was burning beside her bed, and
there was a flickering light from a machine that seem-
ed to be monitoring her progress, but she was alone.
If she turned her head slightly, she could see a glass
and a jug on the table be si de her bed, and she long-
ed to feel cool water on her parched tongue and lips.

'Don't even think of reaching for it.'

The bright tones heralded the arrival of a nurse,

and Lani licked her lips appealingly. 'I'm ... very
thirsty,' she said, her eyes turning towards the jug.
'Do you think I could have a drink?'

'Oh, I should think so.' The young nurse smiled

encouragingly, and carne round the bed to examine
her medical chart. She poured liquid from the jug
into the glass and lent towards Lani. 'Here . . . let
me help you. Now don't go overdoing it. You're still
a long way from being well.'

The tiny drop of water she was permitted was

nectar, and Lani sank back willingly, aware that for
the time being she was incapable of helping herself.
'Thank you,' she murmured, with a quivering
breath. 'That was delicious. '

'Good.' The nurse bent to examine her closely. ‘I

think we might find you a little broth. Does the idea
of food appeal to you?'

'Wh-what's wrong with me?' asked Lani husk-

ily. 'How long have I been here? Where ... where
is Jake? Can I see him?'

'Hey, now. One question at a time.' The nurse

straightened, plucking the bedclothes into place.
'Doctor will tell you all about your injuries. As to
how long you've been here-well, let' s see, the
better part of a week, I suppose.'

'A week!' Lani was horrified, and the nurse made

a soothing gesture.

'Now, calm yourself, Miss St John,' she said

reprovingly. 'If you go upsetting yourself, you'll
never get well. You' re making satisfactory progress.
Isn't that enough for you? Now, settle down again,
and I'Il go and get that broth.'

'Jake! Mr Pendragon!' Lani's fingers curled into

balls as she pleaded for information. 'Please ...
please, you must tell me where he is. Is he in this
hospital? I must know!'

The nurse was walking towards the door, but

now she hesitated. 1 Ipresume you mea n that young
man who was brought in with you,' she said, and
when Lani made a positive gesture, she added,
'Then, no. I'm afraid he's not here any more.'

'Not ... here?' Lani almost choked on the words.

'You mean-you mean-'

'1 mean he's been taken to St Augustine's,' said

the nurse hastily. 'The orthopaedic hospital. He-
well-it was decided he needed specialist treat-
ment, and Mr Holland is the best there is.'

Lani quivered. 'Orthopaedics?' she said unstead-

ily. 'What-what's that? I should know but-'

'1 know. Your head feels like a suet pudding,' the

girl sympathised, nodding. 'Orthopaedics is the
branch of medicine associated with bones and
muscles--'

'Giving our patient a lecture on practical diagno-

sis, Nurse Moray?' The crisp tone of a senior nurse
was not entirely friendly. 'Ah-I see you are awake,
Miss St John. How are you feeling? Have you much
pain?'

Lani moistened her dry lips again. 'Just-a faint

throbbing,' she admitted weakly. Then, as if to
defend the young nurse, she added, 'Nurse-
Nurse Moray was just explaining about the hos-
pital where ... where Mr Pendragon has been
taken. I wanted to know. I wanted to see him.'

'1 see.' The senior nurse gave her junior a hostile

glance. '1 suggest you go and find Dr Connor,
Nurse Moray. Ask him if he'd be kind enough to
come and examine our patient.'

'Yes, Sister.'

Nurse Moray beat a hasty retreat, and Lani met

the Sister's eyes with some degree of indignation. '1
did ask her,' she murmured, feeling obliged to offer
a defence, but the older nurse merely smiled as she
bent to examine her eyes.

'How long must I stay here?' Lani continued

unevenly. 'Nurse Moray said I've be en here almost
a week already. Could you send a message to my
father? Could you let him know I've recovered
consciousness ?'

'All in good time, Miss St John.' Sister McAllis-

ter-La ni read the name on her identity badge-
lifted her medical chart. 'Do you feel hungry? I think

we might try a little soup, don't you?'

'Why not?' Lani was beginning to feel very tired

again. Asking all these questions was wearing,
particularly when she was getting no satisfactory
answers, and she anticipated the doctor's arrival
with something akin to despair.

When he carne, he was younger than she ex-

pected, no more than forty or forty-five, with unru-
ly brown hair, blue eyes that twinkled and a frank
and forthright manner that completely negated
Sister McAllister's crisp formality. '1 might have
known you'd choose to wake up in the wee small
hours,' he declared, grimacing goodnaturedly.
'Don't you know we hard-worked doctors need all
the sleep we can get?'

'I'm sorry.' Lani managed a faint smile in return,

and he grinned irrepressibly.

'Ah, well, as it's you, I won't be angry,' he de-

clared, all the while carrying on a conversation in
undertones with the Sister. 'So--are you feeling a
little more human? Sure, you gave us all a worrying
time for a while.'

Lani drew a deep breath. 'Why?' she asked.

'Wh-what happened?'

'Don't you remember what happened?' Dr Con-

nor regarded her intently, and Lani tried to move
her head in a positive gesture.

'1 remember-I remember the car-' she said, and

broke off as Dr Connor nodded vigorously, as if he
understood.

'Well, you've got what we call a hairline fracture

of your skull,' he told her casually. 'Nothing to get
too steamed up about. It should knit together again
without any problems.'

'Is that all?'

'Sure, and isn't it enough?' He laughed, but Lani

didn't join him, and he sighed. 'Well, there are one
or two bad bruises, and you may find it difficult to
get about for a while, but you'll mend. You're
young. You've been lucky.'

He turned away to speak to the Sister again, but

Lani put out a trembling hand. 'Please-' she said,
not quite knowing how to broach this. 'My-
my mother, she was driving the car; is--is she all
right?'

The doctor and the nurse exchanged glances and

then Doctor Connor smiled encouragingly. 'Sure,
she's fine,' he said, depositing her medical chart
back on the end of the bed. 'Now-we'll get you
some food. You must be starving.'

Lani closed her eyes for a moment and then

opened them again. 'Mr Pendragon,' she said,
ignoring the Sister' s sudden intake of breath, '1
want to know about Mr Pendragon. How ... how
badly hurt was he? When can I see him?'

Another exchange of glances, and then Doctor

Connor carne to regard her seriously. 'Mr Pendra-
gon is going to be all right’, he said firmly. 'Nothing
to worry about there. You just concentrate on get-
ting yourself well. Then we'll talk about when you
can see him.'

Lani groaned. 'Why won't you tell me?' she ex-

claimed. 'Why do you persist in putting me off with
feeble reassurances? Can't you see? I need to know
the truth. If you won't tell me, then fetch my father
here. He will.'

'1 can't do that, Miss St John.' Doctor Connor

glanced round at the Sister. 'Look, don't upset

yourself like this. Don't you know you're not sup-

posed to get excited?'

'Then stop exciting me,' said Lani, breathing

hard. 'Is Jake alive? Is he really alive? Or is this tale
about some other hospital just so much hot air?'

Doctor Connor sighed. 'Of course he' s alive, Miss

St John. I wouldn't lie to you about that. However,
as you appear to know he has been taken to another
hospital, I can say that his injuries were such that
we couldn't treat them properly here. Besides, Mr
Holland operates at St Augustine' s. And ... well,
they have more facilities for private patients than
we do.'

Lani expelled her breath slowly. 'Did-did the car

go over him?'

'1 can't answer that.' Doctor Connor gazed at her

steadily. 'My dear, it was a terrible accident.lt's not
something either you or your mother should dwell
upon too long.'

Lani' slips parted. 'An accident!' she echoed.

'An accident,' said Doctor Connor flatly. 'Sure,
and no one in his right mind would believe any-
thing else.'

Lani closed her mouth again, her brain tilting

chaotically. An accident, she said to herself silently.
An accident! It had been no accident. It had been a
deliberate attempt to mow Jake down, and no one
could believe otherwise.

Something in her eyes, something in her expres-

sion, must have warned the physician that she did
not accept what he had said. Perhaps it was the way
her fingers plucked agitatedly at the coverlet, or
maybe it was the awful pallor of her skin. Whatever
the reason, it was evidently decided that no good

could come from leaving her in that state, and with a

gesture of impatience, a hypodermic needle was
produced and Lani' s anxieties drifted in the unwel-
come rush of oblivion . . .

She awakened to brightness, slats of watery sun-

shine shading the bed through half-drawn blinds.
To her relief, the throbbing ache that had plagued
her head the night before had eased to a bearable
twinge, and she actua11y felt hungry for the first
time since her accident.

Her accident!

The careless thought made her shift in sudden

revulsion, and the nurse who had been seated by
her bed, rose to her feet. 'At last,' she said gently.
'We were beginning to think you didn't want to
wake up. Now, just relax, Miss St John, and 1'11 ask
Sister Henson to come in.'

Deciding there was no point in distressing herself

unnecessarily, Lani lay obediently while Sister Hen-
son examined her, and then pronounced that she
should ha ve some lunch.

'Lunch?'

Lani blinked in surprise, and the nurse who had

be en there when she awakened smiled. 'It's after
one o'clock, Miss St John,' she said. 'We should
just have time to tidy you up before your visitors
arrive.'

It was easier to submit to Nurse Moray' s ministra-

tions than argue, Lani found. Besides, the idea of
visitors was exciting. She was looking forward to
seeing her father. She had been half surprised he
had not been there when she first awakened, but
she could only assume he had been and gone again

while she was unconscious. After a11, he was still a

sick man himself, and it must have been a terrible
shock when he discovered she was in hospital.
Nevertheless, she anticipated his coming eagerly,
firm in the belief that he would not prove so evasive
on the subject of Jake Pendragon.

The mirror Nurse Moray produced at her request

was not so reassuring. Her narrow-boned features
had never be en plump, but they had never looked
so pinched and drawn as they did now. Her cheeks
had ho11owed, there were caverns where bruised
eyes gazed back at her reproachfu11y and the bones
of her jawline stood out in stark relief. The bandage
that disguised the injuries to her forehead was
scarcely whiter than her skin, and she viewed her
reflection with utter consternation.

'1 look terrible!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, heavens, do

you have any make-up 1 could borrow?'

'Your cousin's wife brought your belongings

when she carne to see you,' declared Nurse Moray
comfortably, bending to extract Lani's make-up
case from the locker beside her bed. 'But don't go
getting in a panic. You look perfectly a11 right to me.
Be thankful they didn't have to shave your head.
You would have had something to complain about
then.'

By the time Nurse Moray carne to te11 her her

visitors had arrived, Lani thought she had repaired
a little of the damage. At least her cheeks did not
look quite so pale or her lips so colourless, and the
young nurse had helped her to adjust her pillows so
that her hair framed her taut features.

'Relax,' said Nurse Moray, before leaving the

room. 'No one expects you to look glamorous.

Believe me, they're only too relieved you're con-

scious.'

Lani nodded. She knew the girl was right. And

after all, her father had cared for her through sick-
ness and health for more than twenty years. It was
foolish to worry about her appearance when Jake
could be fighting for his life in some other hospital
ward, and she tried to calm her nerves as footsteps
sounded in the corridor outside.

But it was not her father who opened her door. It

was Robin and Sarah who carne into the room,
carrying an enormous bouquet of roses and carna-
tions, and although Lani was glad to see them, she
couldn't prevent her eyes from moving past them,
searching for that other face.

'Oh, love!' Sarah sniffed convulsively as she bent

to kiss the other girl's cheek, and the dampness of
her tears brought a new wave of anxiety sweeping
over Lani. Where was her father? Why wasn't he
here? Oh, surely her accident had not had more
serious repercussions.

'Robin!' She reached desperately for his hand.

'Oh, Robin, where's Daddy?'

'Don' t distress yourself, sweetheart.' Robin carne

down on the bed beside her, giving his wife a faintly
impatient look. 'Uncle Roger couldn't come, that's
all. He's ... not well. Nothing too serious,' he
added quickly to reassure her. 'It's just ... well,
his cold got worse. You remember he had pleur-
isy, don't you? It deteriorated into pneumonia.
He' s been confined to his bed for the last four
days.'

'Oh-' Lani moved her head helplessly. '1 knew

this would happen, I knew it.' She pressed her lips

together. 'He wouldn't listen to me. He persisted in

standing in a draught, and I told him-'

'Yes, well ... I guess that's how it happened.'

Robin exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife.
'Anyway, he' s recovering slowly, and I know he'll
be delighted to learn that you're looking so much
better.'

, Am I?' Lani' s tone was faintly tearful, and Sarah,

after blowing her nose, took the chair at the other
side of the bed and pulled it closer.

'Of course you are, love,' she exclaimed, forcing a

bright smile. 'You've no idea how worried we've
be en about you. You were unconscious for so
long.'

'1 think Lani knows that,' said Robin drily, his

finger removing a drop of moisture from his
cousin' s cheek. 'It' s good to see you awake again.
It' s not much fun visiting someone who just snores
their way through your visit.'

Lani's lips curved. 'Did I do that?'

'Of course not.' Sarah was indignant. 'It's not

you who snores, Lani, it's him. Like a pig!' She
grimaced. 'You've no idea what it's like. Sometimes
I think 1'11 get the tape recorder and record the noise
he makes so that he can hear it for himself.'

'She wouldn't dare,' said Robin smugly. 'She' d be

too afraid I might record one of her interminable
phone calls and re play it at one of her coffee morn-
ings. I can just imagine how popular she' d be after
that.'

'Louse!' Sarah pulled a face.

'Gossip!' retorted Robin evenly, and Lani knew a

sense of gratitude for their understanding.

'Do you know when you'll get out of here?' asked

Sarah, after a moment. 'Rob' s going to have a word

with the doctor when we leave here, but I wondered
if they had said anything to you.'

'No.' Lani's tongue circled her upper lip. 'Do ...

do you two know what happened?'

Robin sighed. '1 don' t think you should talk about

the accident right now, Lani.'
'Why not?'

'We11 ... we11, because it's bound to be upsetting

for you, and Nurse Moray said you were not to get
excited.'

Lani shook her head. '1'11 only get excited if we

don't talk about it,' she declared unsteadily. 'Please,
Robin, do you know what happened?'

'Some of it.' Robin took a deep breath. 'Aunt

Clare knocked you down, didn't she?'

'You know that?' Lani' s voice trembled.

'Know it!' Sarah gasped. 'It's been headlines in a11

the papers--'

'Shut up, Sarah, will you?' Robin spoke tersely,

and his wife lapsed into an offended silence. 'It was
in the newspapers, Lani. How could it not be? Clare
Austin's affairs are always news, and when she
accidently runs down her latest boy-friend and her
daughter, there's no way it could be kept a secret.
He11, I believe they've had some difficulty keeping
reporters out of the hospital. You're a target, Lani.
You might as we11 know it.'

Lani gazed at him speechlessly, and lifting his

shoulders Robin continued. '1 mean-it is some
story, isn't it? How the hell did it happen? The
papers say she pressed the accelerator instead of the
brake. It's easily done, I suppose, especially if
you're driving a car you're not used to. But what

were you doing, running into the road in front of

her?'

Lani' s eyes turned up to the ceiling. 'Is that what

Clare said? That she pressed the accelerator instead
o f the brake?'

'So it says.'

'And ..... and Jake?' She had to ask. 'Does it say

how . .how he is?'

Robin hesitated. 'He's not here.'

'1 know that.' Lani looked at him. 'They told me

he' d been taken to St Augustine' s. An orthopaedic
hospital. Do you know why?'
Robin shrugged. '1 guess because of his injuries.'
'But what were his injuries?' Lani stared at him
tremulously. '1-1 want to know, Robin.'

'Well, I don't know, do I?' He shifted uncomfort-

ably. 'Why don't you ask your mother. She'l1 be
coming to see you this evening, 1 expect.'

'1 don' t want to see her.'

Lani was vehement, and Robin exchanged

another doubtful look with his wife. 'Don't be silly,
Lani,' he began, but this time Sarah intervened.

'She doesn't have to see her if she doesn't want

to,' she declared staunchly. 'And why don't you te11
her about Jake Pendragon, too? She's got to know
sooner or later.'

'Sarah!'

Robin was furious, but Lani had heard enough to

know that he was keeping something from her. 'Te11
me,' she said, and the sharp edge to her voice
wamed Robin she was on the brink of hysteria.

'Oh, hell!' He leant over her helplessly, almost as

if he wanted to protect her from what was to come.
And then, realising he could delay no longer, he

said, 'They say -he had a few cuts and bruises.

Broken bones--you know the sort of thing. He was
brought here to the Royal Memorial like you, but
they decided he' d be better off with specialist treat-
ment.'

'Who decided?' Lani's voice quivered.

'Your mother, I guess,' said Sarah flatly. 'And it

wasn't just a few broken bones, Lani. They say his
hands were crushed.'

'Are you feeling better?'

Nurse Moray was on duty again, and Lani looked

up at her with lack-lustre eyes. '1 suppose so,' she
said du11y, unwilling to discuss it, and the young
nurse lifted the two vases of flowers she had
arranged from the bouquet.

'I'11 just put these in the corridor for tonight,' she

said, burying her face in their fragrant perfume.
'Hmm, aren't they beautiful? And such lovely col-
ours, too.'
Lani made no response and when Nurse Moray
carne back she looked down at her in mild frustra-
tion. 'This won't do, you know,' she said. '1 agree
your cousin shouldn't have blurted it out like that,
about Mr Pendragon, I mean, but your lying here
fretting isn't going to help him or you, now is it?'

Lani shrugged, and warming to her theme, the

nurse went on, 'Refusing to see your mother wasn't
very sensible either, was it? She's visited the hospi-
tal every day without fail since you've been here.
She's be en worried sick about you. How could you
turn her away.'

'She carne because it's expected of her,' said Lani

flatly, turning her face into the pillow. 'Can you

imagine what the papers would say if Clare didn't

appear to be taking a proper interest in my recov-
ery? Particularly when she' s responsible!'

'Now, Miss St John, that's no way to talk!' Nurse

Moray was shocked, and Lani thought how typical
it was that her mother should get all the sympathy.
Clare had deliberately driven at Jake, she had
knocked him down intentionally, and nothing she
could say could erase Lani' s memory of her
mother' s face as she drove the car forward. There
had been no mistake, no accidental mix-up over the
pedals. In those moments, Clare had wanted to kill
Jake, and if her daughter had chosen to get in-
volved, then that was her misfortune. 'Oh, Jake,'
she whispered inwardly, feeling the desperation
that helplessness can bring, and seeing the tears
streaming down her patient's cheeks, Nurse Moray
quietly left the room.

Two days later, Lani was out of bed and sitting in a

chair by the window when she had another visitor.
'Miles!' she exclaimed, when he carne through
the door, and he gathered her slim form into his
arms with evident emotion.

'Oh, Lani!' he muttered at last, holding her at

arm's length. 'God, I've been so worried about
you. And when Rob said you were feeling pretty
low, I had to come and see you. I hope you don't
mind.'

'Mind? Why should I mind?' Lani was glad of the

diversion. She had been unable to get any further
information about Jake's condition, and her anxiety
was hindering her recovery. She wanted to see him.
She wanted to tell him that whatever happened, she

would never stop loving him, and her confinement

in the hospital was driving her to distraction.

'You're so thin!' Miles shook his head disbe-

lievingly. 'Don't they feed you in here? And why
are you wearing that plaster? I thought the fracture
was further back.'

'It is.' Lani touched the plaster on her forehead

indifferently. 'This is just to cover a cut that they put
stitches in. Oh, the stitches are out now,' she
added, 'but it's pretty ugly.'

'Nothing about you is ugly,' stated Miles forceful-

Iy, pulling a box of chocolates out of the pocket of
his overcoat. 'Here. I brought you these. I guessed
you'd have plenty of flowers, and I was right. It's
like a hothouse in here.'

Lani glanced about her without interest. '1 told

them to put them in the wards,' she said, 'but there
were too many. Clare sent most of them, of course. I
wish she wouldn't.'

Miles pulled up a chair and seated himself beside

her. 'You blame her.' he said matter-of-factly. '1
don't blame you. The woman must be an absolute
fool. Imagine driving a car without knowing the
accelerator from the brake.'

Lani bent her head. '1' d rather not talk about it.'
'No. No, of course not.' Miles was trying to be
tactful. 'Anyway, you carne out of it lightly, didn't
you, compared to poor old Pendragon. They say
he'Il never play again, you know. The piano, I
mean,' he added, unaware of Lani's strained face.
'These surgeon chaps are bloody marvellous, I
know, but it takes more than mechanical skill to
restore a talent like his.'

Lani moaned, and realising he had said some-

thing else to upset her, Miles was contrite. 'Hey-

Lani! What is it?' he exclaimed, his eyes widening at
the horror in her face. 'Come on, Lani, it wasn't
your fault, love. How do you think your mother
feels? She discovered him!'

Lani turned away, though she didn't draw her

hands from his, and he squeezed them tightly.
'Look-let' s talk about something else, shall we?' he
suggested. '1 guess you've heard enough about Jake
Pendragon to last you a lifetime.'

'No!' Catching her breath, Lani forced herself to

look at Miles again. 'No, you don't understand,' she
said tremulously. '1 do want to hear about Jake.
Please-I'm afraid I'm just being silly.'

'You' re just feeling rather fragile at the moment, I

know.' To her relief, Miles accepted her explanation
without question. 'It's been quite an ordeal for you,
hasn't it? What with your father being ill and all.
Rob told me,' he explained. 'He seemed to think
you were worrying about him, too.'

'Daddy. Oh, yes.' To her amazement, she had

scarcely thought of her father since hearing about
Jake, and her conscience smote her at the realisation
that his well-being had not come first. '1 must write
to him, now that I'm feeling so much better. I'm
sure he'd like a letter from me.'

'I'm sure he would,' agreed Miles drily. 'How-

ever, it has to be said, your condition has been more
serious than his. Has he been in touch with you?'
Lani sighed. 'You don't like my father, do you?'
'He doesn't like me,' said Miles obliquely. 'Any-
way, I'm glad you're feeling better. Poor old Matilda

is having to take a back seat.'

Lani half smiled. 'Matilda,' she murmured, and

then, returning to the subject uppermost in her

thoughts, she said, 'Tell me about ... about Jake.
Where did you hear about him not playing again?'

'On television,' said Miles carelessly, not

altogether pleased to be discussing something that
seemed to have no bearing on their relationship.
'When can you go home? Have the doctors reached
a verdict?'

'At the end of the week, I think.' Lani was not

interested in talking about herself. 'Tell me ... is
Jake still in hospital? Does my mother visit him?'

'How should I know?' Miles sighed. 'Lani, what

is this with Jake Pendragon? He's your mother's
problem, not yours. Just because you were there
when it happened-'

Lani took a deep breath. 'Did the newspapers

give any reason why I was there?' she asked
tensely.

Miles frowned. '1 understood you' d been having

supper at the hotel with Pendragon and your
mother. She had offered to drive you home, hadn't
she?'

'That's what she said?'

'Your mother, yes.' Miles looked at her impatient-

ly. 'Lani, why are you asking all these questions?
Don't you remember what happened?'

'Oh, yes, I remember.' Lani's tone was bitter, but

she didn't pursue it any further. There was no point
in involving Miles in something that was so in-
tensely personal. Her only salvation lay with Jake
himself.

Much to Miles' relief, the rest of their conversa-

tion was limited to other things, like how soon Lani
expected to be able to start work again, and if there

was anything he could do she had only to say the

word.

'There's nothing,' she assured him gratefully.

'Robin and Sarah have been wonderful. They've
even suggested I spend a few days with them after I
get out of hospital, but I'd rather go home. I want to
reassure Daddy I'm still in one piece.'

'But will you be all right?' Miles was concerned. '1

mean-a fractured skull can be very serious.'

'1 know.' Lani smiled. 'But I was lucky. The bone

didn't splinter, and I've had no internal bleeding.
Dr Connor says it's because my head's so thick.'
Miles looked doubtful. 'Even so, you must take
things easy.'

'Oh, I will,' Lani promised. 'I've no intention of

doing anything to prolong my stay in here.'

In the event, Lani was spirited out of the hospital

at the end of the week through a rear entrance. A
handful of newsmen were still hanging about the
front lobby, and suspecting Clare might use the
opportunity to effect a reconciliation, Lani was
anxious to avoid any publicity. Besides, she was still
far from completely recovered, and even the short
journey home in Robin' s car left her feeling ex-
hausted.

Mrs Evans was at the door to greet her. The

housekeeper had visited her once while she was in
the hospital, but it had not been a tremendously
successful visit. She was evidently unhappy with
her surroundings, and she had confessed to Lani
that hospital s always made her nervous. They had
spent most of the time she was there discussing the
different varieties of flowers Clare had sent her and
hardly mentioned her father' s illness at all.

Now, however, Lani entered the house eagerly,

and Mrs Evans pointed towards the drawing room.
'Your father's in there,' she said, turning to invite
Robin to come in, and Lani opened the door firmly
and quickly stepped inside.

Roger St John was sitting by the fire, and his head

turned automatically at her entrance. 5he had the
feeling he had seen Robin's car approach from the
window, and his quickened breathing as she hur-
ried across the room to kiss him seemed to confirm
this. He was dressed, but only in the shabby tweed
trousers and woollen cardigan he used about the
house, and when she drew back to look at him, she
saw that he too had lost weight.

'Oh, Daddy,' she said, ridiculously overcome

with tears, and he lifted his hand to cradle her
cheek.

'It's so good to see you, my darling,' he mur-

mured, his own emotions thickening his voice.
'What a terribly long time it has seemed. Can you
ever forgive me?'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

'FORGIVE you?' Blinking back her tears, Lani pu11ed

a chair close to his and seated herself beside him.
'Oh, Daddy, there's nothing to forgive. It wasn't
your fault. Clare must have been out of her mind.
She drove at Jake deliberately. 1'11 never forgive
her-never!'

Roger St John gazed at his daughter strangely.

'You haven't seen Clare?'

'Not since the-not since what happened.' said

Lani vehemently. 'Oh, she carne to the hospital. 1
suppose you know about that. But 1 didn't want to
see her, and they-the staff, that is-c-decided it was
best if 1 didn't get upset.'

Her father shook his head. 'But that night-'

'The night it happened?' Lani's hands curled
tightly together. 'Oh, yes, 1 saw her that night. But
we didn't exactly find time for conversation.'
Roger St John lay back in his chair, staring at her.

'What happened?'

'When? When Jake and 1 left here?' Lani winced

at the memories this evoked. '1 know you were
furious, but you were wrong about Jake. He ...
well ... he was not having an affair with ... with
my mother.'

'You believe that?' Her father's lips twisted.

'Lani, 1 realise you're infatuated with this fe11ow,
but let's not pretend he's any saint. Clare-' He
broke off abruptly, and then went on, 'It's common

knowledge, she's been supporting him for almost a

year!'

'1 know that.' Lani closed her eyes for a moment.

'But that doesn't mean-' She sighed, realising she
was fighting a losing battle. 'Anyway, that's over
now. He loves me, Daddy, and-and I lo ve him. As
soon as 1 can, I'm going to see him.'

Roger's face was haggard. 'You can't mean this.'

'1 do.' Lani put her hand on his arm. 'Oh, Daddy,
you don't know him, honestly. He's proud, but
he' s honest. He doesn' t try to defend the things
they say about him. He ... he only lives for his
music.'

'No longer,' said her father harshly. 'Haven't you

heard? His hands were injured in the accident. I
doubt if he'll ever play the piano again.'

'No!' Lani caught her breath.

As if regretting his cruelty, Roger said, 'It may be

the best thing that could happen-for you!'

'What do you mean?' Lani' s voice was tremulous.

'Well-' Her father was bitter. 'Clare has never
associated herself with failure, has she?'

Mrs Evans' appearance with a tray of tea pre-

vented any further discussion of the matter, and
Lani, still numbed by what her father had said,
glanced round expectantly. 'Where's Robin?'
'Oh-he left,' said Mrs Evans comfortably. 'He
guessed you and your father would have a lot to say
to one another. He said he' d give you a ring this
evening.'

Lani sighed. '1 never thanked him.'

'1 think he understood.' the housekeeper assured

her. 'Now-help yourselves to the sandwiches. I'Il
be back in a few minutes with some hot teacakes.'

Lani ate little, and as soon as tea was over, she

excused herself.

'You're not ... you're not going to see him

tonight, are you?'

Her father's expression was tormented, and after

a moment, Lani shook her head. 'Not tonight.' she
agreed flatly. I’m too weary. If you don't mind, 1
think I'll have an early night. It's been a long day.'

'Of course. Of course.'

Her father rose to his feet as if he in tended to

escort her, but Lani held up her hands, palms facing
him. I’ll be okay, honestly.' she said, backing to-
wards the door, and with a helpless little gesture, he
subsided again.

In her room, Lani pressed her hot forehead

against the cool glass of the window. Without draw-
ing the curtains, she gazed down on the lamplit
street, wondering how Jake was feeling tonight.
She knew how desperate he must feel, knowing his
future was hanging in the balance, and any compas-
sion she felt could not be compared to the agony he
must be suffering. It didn't help to suspect that
however biased her father' s words might ha ve been
he was probably right. Without his ability to play,
without that extraordinary talent which had shone
so brilliantly in the concert hall, Jake could mean
nothing to Clare, and although Lani was thankful
for that, she had no conviction that their future
would be any easier.

In the morning, things looked inexpressibly

brighter. Jake was alive, that was the important
thing, she told herself severely, making a deter-
mined effort to disguise the hollows in her cheeks.

The last thing she wanted was for Jake to worry

about her. He needed her strength to get better as
well as his own.

Her father was still in bed when she carne down-

stairs, and Mrs Evans c1icked her tongue reproving-
ly. 'Now, 1 was going to fetch you breakfast in bed,'
she declared, when Lani entered the kitchen.
'You're supposed to get plenty of rest, and here you
are, up at eight o'clock.'

'1 wasn't tired,' said Lani, without mentioning the

fact that worrying about Jake had kept her awake
half the night. 'Just some toast and coffee for me,
Mrs Evans. I'm not really hungry either.'

'So 1 noticed at teatime yesterday,' retorted the

housekeeper shortly. 'Neither one of you ate more
than a couple of sandwiches, and 1 might as well not
have bothered to bake.'

'I'm sorry.' Lani slipped into a chair at the table. '1

suppose it was the excitement of coming home. 1
was so looking forward to seeing Daddy again. He' s
looking so old these days. 1 worry about him.'

'Don't we all.' Mrs Evans was impatient. '1 must

say 1 was surprised he didn't go to see you in the
hospital. He could have done, you know. Your
cousin Robin offered to take him.'

'Did he?' Lani tried not to feel hurt. 'Oh, well-I

suppose he didn't want to jeopardise his recovery a
second time.'

'Huh.' Mrs Evans snorted. 'He brought it all upon

himself, if you ask me,' she declared. 'A night like
that. He ought to have had more sense.'

Lani sighed. 'Well, that's over now, isn't it? He is

much better, and I'm grateful for that.'

Mrs Evans shook her head. 'You're a good-

hearted girl, Lani. 1 just hope this young man is

worthy of you.'

Lani coloured. 'You know about Jake?'

'1 should do' Mrs Evans grimaced as she poured

coffee into an earthenware cup. 'Your father's
talked of nothing else since . . . well, since it
happened.'

Lani took the cup the housekeeper offered and

studied its contents reflectively. '1 suppose Daddy
told you he doesn't approve.'

'1 don't think your father is in any position to be

objective,' said Mrs Evans candidly. 'Now, you just
take things easy. We don't want you having a
relapse, do we?'

St Augustine's Orthopaedic Hospital was in Fins-

bury, not far from Old Street underground station.
Having discovered this from a map of London she
had found in her father's study, Lani had been
tempted to take the train, but impatience and an
awareness of her own weakness had persuaded her
to take a cab, and she was glad afterwards that she
had.

Her father, coming into her bedroom earlier to

find her applying her make-up, had quickly voiced
his disapproval of what she was planning to do, and
she had had to close her ears to his pleas. It was no
use telling her she was a fool for going on with this,
no use implying that if Jake was going to be crip-
pled, she'd be better off without him. She loved her
father, but she loved Jake more, and nothing could
replace her need to be with him.

The taxi dropped her at the hospital gates, and

after paying the fare, Lani wrapped her cloak about

her and walked slowly across the forecourt. It was a

bitterly cold morning: although the sun was shining

it gave off no heat. She felt quite exhausted by the

time she reached the reception area.

'1' d like to see Mr Pendragon,' she told one of the

uniformed . men behind the glass partition. 'My
name is Miss St John. Lani St John, He does ...
know who 1 am.'

There was a muffled conference between two of

the men and a nurse, who was hovering by an
inner door, and then the man Lani had addressed
turned to her again.

'You'd be Miss Austin's daughter then?' he ven-

tured, eyeing her doubtfully, and Lani expelled her
breath wearily as she acknowledged that this was
so.

'But I'm not here on behalf of my mother,' she

stated, supporting herself against the desk. 'Please,
do you think you could hurry it up. I'm not feeling
very well myself.'

The nurse, who had been listening to this ex-

change, now let herself out of the partitioned office,
and carne towards her. 'I'm afraid Mr Pendragon
isn't having any visitors, Miss St John,' she said,
apologetically. 'He's most insistent upon it. 1
couldn't go against his wishes without his doctor's
permission. '

Lani's legs sagged. 'Who is his doctor?'

'Mr Holland.'

Lani remembered she had heard that name be-

fore. 'Then, could 1 see him, please?' she asked
weakly .. 'I.realise 1 don't have an appointment,)lUt
... but it is rather urgent.'

The nurse sighed. 'I'm afraid Mr Holland isn't

in the hospital today, Miss St John. He won't be

available for consultations until Monday. Unless
there' s an emergency, of course.'

Lani wanted to cry that this was an emergency,

that she had to see Jake now, today, without any
more delay. But she knew it would be useless.
Consultant surgeons did not interrupt their sched-

ules for emotional reasons. -

'Monday,' she said dully, wishing she could sit

down, and the nurse nodded.

'1 could make you an appointment for Monday

morning,' she said. '1 believe-well, in the circum-
stances, I'm sure Mr Holland would see you.'

'Thank you.' Lani took a deep breath. 'But are you

sure that Mr Pendragon won't see me anyway? 1
mean-couldn't you at least ask him? I'd be very
grateful.'

The nurse hesitated. 'It really is most irregular

Miss St John. 1 do have Mr Holland's orders.' '

'But you did say it was Jake-I mean Mr Pendra-

gon who said he didn't want to see anyone, didn't
you?' Lani persisted faintly. 'Oh, please, won't you
try?'
She was sure the woman was going to refuse, and
almost involuntarily she swayed towards her. It
was not a deliberate plea for sympathy, nor yet an
attempt to draw her attention to her own condition.
But professional eyes took in her pallid face and
strained expression, and relented.

'Here.' she said, leading Lani to where a row of

chairs had been supplied for visitors. 'Sit down. 1 '1 1
g~ and make some enquiries. I can't promise any-
thing, of course, but I will find out.'

'Oh, thank you.' Lani's eyes were full of tears as

she looked up at her, andthe woman shook her

head half-deprecatingly as she quickly walked
away.

It seemed hours before she returned, and then

Lani could tell from her expression she was not
bringing good news before she spoke. 'I'm sorry,'
she said, spreading her hands. 'Mr Pendragon
won't see you. I did warn you he had refused all
visitors, didn't I? I'm afraid you've had a wasted
journey.'

Lani blinked. 'But why won't he see me?' She

caught her breath, and then went on raggedly, '1
can understand him not wanting to see Clare, but
why me? Why me?'

'1 don't think you should upset yourself, Miss St

John.' The nurse glanced quickly about the recep-
tion area to assure herself that their conversation
was not being heard. 'Patients ... well, patients
who have had some trauma tic kind of shock often
suffer withdrawal symptoms for a while. It's quite
normal. Once his brain has accepted the situation-'

'What situation?' Lani struggled to her feet. 'Is it

true? Were his hands crushed? Won't he ever play
again?'

'Oh, really-I can't make that kind of diagnosis,

Miss St John.' The woman gazed at her compas-
sionately. 'Look, let me get you a cup of tea. You can
drink it in my office. I'm sure you would prefer a
few moments' privacy before you leave. And we've
had a great deal of annoyance with reporters and so
on. There were one or two of them hanging about
here earlier in the week, but thankfully, they seem
to have left now.'
Lani shook her head, her brief outburst having

drained what little strength she had left. '1 think if

you could just call me a taxi,' she said, wrapping her
cloak about her. 'l'd rather go home. My father will
worry.'

Going home in the cab, she felt hopelessly in-

adequate. Weakness was responsible for the tears
that ran unheeded down her cheeks, but it was a
sense of impotence that made her feel so desperate.
How could she achieve anything if Jake refused to
see her? How could she tell him how she really felt if
he refused to speak to her? Did he blame her for
what had happened? Did he blame her for her
mother' s fit of madness? Was she to bear the burden
of guilt for creating the situation?

She shook her head, staring blindly through the

cab window. If only he would speak to her, she
fretted. If only she could be sure he did not hate her.
Could it be that because of his injuries, he didn't
want to see anyone, or had Clare been given an
opportunity to influence him against her?

There was a car parked at the gate of Number 11,

Pelham Court, and Lani, paying the taxi-driver,
viewed it apprehensively. It was not a car she
recognised. It was sleek and black and luxurious,
and the distinctive insignia on the bonnet gave her
her first clue. It evidently belonged to someone to
whom the demonstration of wealth was important,
and she knew of only one person who fitted that
description.

How dare she come here? Lani asked herself

incredulously, as she fumbled for her key. How
dared she come here, upsetting her father and
disrupting all their lives? Hadn't she done enough?
Had she no shame? Hadn't the fact that she had

seriously injured the two people she had said meant

so much to her left no remorse? Was she so insensi-
tive to their feelings that she actually believed she
could behave as if the lies she had told the press
were true?

Lani' s hands were trembling as she threw off her

cape and marched to the door of the drawing room.
She could hear the low murmur of voices, and her
anger ran like a forceful stimulant through her
veins. She forgot her illness and the appalling weak-
ness she had felt in the taxi. She was filled with an
artificial sensation of strength as she charged to her
father's defence.

The scene that met her eyes when she opened the
drawing-room door however, was somewhat dif-
ferent from what she had expected. To begin with,
she had not expected to find her father and mother
seated on opposite sides of the fireplace, giving
every appearance of cordial normality. Nor had she
expected the civilised tray of morning coffee,
occu pying the low table between them with Clare
dispensing cream and sugar as if this was her usual
occupation. Her eyes, when they met her daugh-
ter’s, revealed nothing but guarded anticipation,
and Lani turned to her father blankly, waiting for
his explanation.

Roger St John had risen at her entrance, and now

he pointed to the chair in which he had been sitting
and suggested she should take it. 'You look chilled
to the bone, my dear.' he exclaimed, urging her to
join them, and Lani stared at him aghast, feeling her
senses tilting.

'Yes, do sit down, Lani.' Clare spoke at last,

putting down her coffee cup and regarding her

daughter coolly. 'I'll ask Mrs Evans to fetch another

cup. You look as though-'

. 'Don' t bother!' The words carne stiffly from Lani' s

lips, and she turned to her father in amazement.
'What' s going on here?' she asked. 'Why is-why is
she here? Did you invite her? Did you know she was
coming?'

'No~, Lani-' began Roger awkwardly, only to

have his words overridden by his ex-wife.

'He didn't know exactly when to expect me,'

declared Clare tersely, 'but he knew I would come.
After all, when you so childishly refused to see me
in the hospital, I had to do something, didn't I?'

'1 don't see why-'

'Oh, don't you?' Clare realised Lani was not

about to sit down, and rose abruptly to her feet. 'Is it
so unreasonable that 1 might want to assure myself
that my daughter is making a satisfactory recovery?
For heaven' s sake,' her voice broke with convincing
sincerity, '1 didn't mean to hurt you. You must know
that for yourself.'
'Just Jake, is that it?' Lani managed to sound a
cynical note, and Clare's small hands clenched.

'1 didn't mean to hurt anybody!' she exclaimed

unsteadily. '1 just wanted to get away-on my own.
You ... you had hurt me, Lani, you must know
that, and 1 was desperate! Can't you try and under-
stand my feelings? Jake-Jake and I had been so ...
close.'

'You drove at Jake deliberately.' said Lani, her

voice shaking with emotion. '1 saw you, Clare. 1 saw
you! You may be able to deceive the press with
stories of confusing the accelerator and the brake,
but not me. You intended to hit him. I saw it in your

face. 1 think you wanted to kill him! Instead of

which, you've ruined his life, and 1 hope he sues
you for every penny you've got!'

'And have you seen him?' demanded Clare tautly,

apparently abandoning the attempt to defend her
innocence. 'Has Jake told you that's what he in-
tends to do? Or has he confessed that he has no
intention of bringing a suit against me; that contrary
to your wild accusations, he doesn't blame me at
all?'

'That's not true!' Lani stared at her.

'How do you know?' Clare lifted a scornful eye-

brow. 'Have you spoken to him?'

'I-why-no.'

'You see. You don't know anything. Jake

wouldn't bring a suit against me.' Clare shook her
head. 'He owes me too much.'

'1 don't believe you.' Lani was dogged. 'He

doesn't owe you anything. And he loves me. He
. . . we. . . were going to get married . . .'

Clare laughed then, a harsh condescending

sound that was so much worse than anger. 'Get
married!' she echoed. 'Oh, don't give me that, Lani.
Jake may have been attracted to you, but believe
me, marriage was never on the horizon-for either
of us.'

'But you said-'

'Yes? What did 1 say?' Clare had command of the

situation now. 'Did 1 say we were going to get
married?'

Lani faltered. 'But Elwyn Hughes said ... it was

in the newspapers.'

'Elwyn Hughes is an old woman, and you've just

proved you shouldn't believe all you read in the

newspapers, Lani,' retorted Clare crisply. 'Now, if

we've got that out of the way, can we start this
conversation again like civilised people? Roger, ask
Mrs Evans to bring some fresh coffee. I'm sure this
must be stone-cold by now.'

'1 don't want any coffee.' Lani could feel the

control slipping away from her. She turned to her
father desperately. She needed him now, she re-
alised. She needed his support to prove to Clare
they were united against her. He knew how she felt
about Jake. He knew how Jake felt about her. It
wasn't true that all Jake had wanted was an affair.
As usual Clare only believed what she had wanted
to believe.

But she saw at once that something was wrong.

Roger St John was rubbing his hands together anx-

iously, and the look he gave his daughter was not
reassuring.

'Lani, 1 think you should listen to what your

mother has to say,' he said heavily. 'Whatever you
may think, she does care about you, you know.'
'No!'

'Yes, she does.' Roger sighed uneasily. 'Lani,

we're not just talking about the accident here, we're
talking about your future.'

'What do you mean?' Lani stared at him uncom-

prehendingly, and her father looked in appeal to his
ex-wife.

'What your father is trying to say, Lani, is that he

doesn't think you should attempt to see Jake Pen-
dragon again.'

'No--'

'Yes.' Clare was decisive. 'We're only thinking of

you. 1 don't know what you've read or heard, but

I'm in a position to tell you, Jake is going to be a

cripple for the rest of his life-'
'Oh, no!'

'Oh, yes. His injuries were more extensive than

was at first imagined. He may never walk again,
and his hands-'

'Stop it!' Lani pressed her palms against her

cheeks and moved her head in a negating gesture,
but Clare held her gaze implacably.

'1 know it's hard for you to accept, Lani, but it is

the truth. How do you think 1 feel? How do you
think 1 can bear to look at him. He's got the best
doctors that money can buy, treatment of the very
first order, but to know that I'm indirectly respon-
sible-'

'Indirectly!' Lani gasped, but Clare was adamant.

'Yes, indirectly,' she said. 'You don't really be-
lieve l' d have chosen this for him-'

'Yes. Yes, 1 do.' Lani thrust away her father's

detaining hand and stared at her mother with pure
loathing. 'This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?
You boughthim! Oh, yes, I'll give you that. But
when you saw us together, you realised how little
that really meant. You drove at him on purpose.
Nothing will change my mind about that. And if
you think that by telling me Jake's going to be an
invalid you can destroy our feelings for one
another, then you know nothing about love!'

'You silly little bitch.' Clare's mouth curled con-

temptuously. '1 don't know why I carne here. I don't
know why 1 bothered. Why should 1 care if you
choose to waste your life nurturing a thankless
devotion for a man who'll never be able to return it.
As your mother, 1 felt it was my duty to warn you, to

try and make you see that you' d be better off forget-
ting him, but 1 see now 1 was wrong. She sneered.
'You think Jake will be grateful because you re
prepared to sacrifice yourself for him. Well, he
won't. He won't thank you for complicating his
existence, and remember, every time he looks at
vou, he'll be reminded of what he' s lost!'

- Lani caught her breath. 'You' re vile-'

'No. Just practical.' Clare snorted. 'You're just

like your father, do you know that? You think
you've found a cause, don't you? Something to give
your life meaning. Well, remember, pity IS no sub-
stitute for passion!'

'Get-out--of-here!'

Lani was swaying with weakness, but Clare had

one final thing to say. 'Did your father confess that
he said the night he carne to my apartment? Did he
tell you how he begged for us to get back together
again? You were surprised to see me here, weren't
you? Well-if your father had his way, all would be
forgiven, and I'd be living here for good.'

Lani turned bewildered eyes to her father. 'The

... the night you went to her ... apartment?' she
said blankly. 'What night? What does she mean?'
Clare let out a gulp of disbelief. 'You mean he
hasn't told you?' she exclaimed, and Lani saw her
father blanch.

'What is she talking about, Daddy.' she asked

shakily. 'What is all this about? You didn't tell me
you'd been to see her. When did you go? You've
been ill.'

'How about the night Jake was injured,' said

Clare, as Roger St John seemed to shrink within
himself. 'You remember? The night 1 arrived back

from Milan, earlier than usual because of the fog, or

I wouldn't have even been at the apartment when
he called.'

Lani moaned. 'Oh, no--'

'Oh, yes.' Clare was enjoying her moment of

triumph. 'Dear me, Roger, what a sly devil you are!
Didn't you tell Lani how you taunted me that my-
lover-had abandoned me for my daughter? Didn't
you explain how you tried to use that information to
your own advantage? That it was you who drove me
to take such desperate measures to safeguard my
investment!'

CHAPTER TWELVE

'ARE you sure you want to go home?'

Sarah's voice was anxious as she viewed Lani' s

pale face, but the other girl was definite. 'Oh, yes,'
she said, bending to kiss the twins with some re-
gret. 'It's time I went back. I can't stay here inde-
finitely, and in any case, Jake should be getting out
of hospital soon.'

Sarah shook her head. 'You don't know that.

You're only guessing. It's only six weeks since the

accident, you know.'

'1 know.' Lani felt a constricting pain inside her.

Six weeks! It had seemed a lifetime.

'And how do you know he'll see you anyway?'

Sarah persisted. '1 don't know how many times
you've rung the hospital, and always with the same
result.'

'It'll be different when he gets out,' declared Lani,

more confidently than she felt. 'In any case, 1 have
to try. Now that Clare has left for Los Angeles, 1 feel
more optimistic.'

'Lani, you don't know that your mother has been

visiting him. Oh, I know what she told you, but
you've said yourself, she has been known to ...
well, to exaggerate..'

'Nevertheless, 1 have to do something.' Lani

drew herself up determinedly. 'Sarah, I've got to
get things straight between us. You and Robin
have be en very kind, but now I've got to stand

on my own two feet.'

'Ready?' Robin appeared at that moment, having

brought his car out of the garage, and the two girls
exchanged swift kisses.

'Ready,' agreed Lani tremulously, picking up her

shoulder bag, grateful that the twins started to
argue over who was going to stand where to wave
goodbye.

'We'd like to meet him one day,' Sarah mur-

mured, as they fo11owed Robin outside, and the
younger girl forced a smile.

'You'l1 be the first,' she promised, squeezing

Sarah's hand, and then went to seat herself in the
front of Robin' s Sierra.

It was four weeks since she had se en her father

and as the miles disappeared, Lani could feel herself
growing tense. She was not looking forward to
seeing him again, remembering the way they had
parted, but she had lived in Pelham Court a11 her life
and she couldn't imagine striking out on her own.

'You could ha ve stayed on, you know.'

As if perceiving her thoughts, Robin ventured his

own suggestion, and Lani gave him an affectionate
smile. 'Sarah said the same,' she told him. 'You two
really have been marvellous! I don't know what I'd
have done without you.'

Robin shrugged. 'You know you're always wel-

come In our house. Heavens, the twins think you're
wonderful, and 1 know for a fact that Sarah takes
advantage of your good nature.'

'1 like helping.' Lani made a deprecating gesture.

'Besides, I've not had much else to do, have I?'
'You've not done any work you mean,' Robin
interjected. 'Maybe being at Chalfont . . .'

'No.' Lani shook her head. '1 haven't been able to

concentrate on anything since . . . well, since it
happened.'

'You don't think-I mean-that blow on your

head didn't-'

'1 don't think so.' Lani grimaced. 'It's much more

basic than that. If-when-I see Jake again, it'll be
different then.'

'And if he still refuses to see you?'

Robin was matter-of-fact, and Lani drew a deep

breath. 'He won't,' she said determinedly. '1 won't
let him.'

To her relief, her father was not at home when she

arrived at Pelham Court. Mrs Evans carne bustling
out to greet her, her lined face showing real plea-
sure in the fact that Lani was back. Robin left her to
the housekeeper' s ministrations with a knowing
smile.

'I'm sure if your father had known you were

coming back today, he wouldn't have gone to
work,' declared Mrs Evans, helping her carry her
things upstairs, and Lani reflected silently that this
had been her belief, too.

'I've got some phone calls to make,' she said, after

declining the housekeeper's offer to help her un-
pack. 'I'll get around to everything later, Mrs Evans.
What I'd like now is a nice cup of tea.'

With the housekeeper securely in the kitchen,

Lani went into her father' s study to make her calls.
Roger had had an extension put in there for busi-
ness purposes, and it was much more private than
the phone in the hall.

She rang the hospital first. It was three days since

she had last inquired about Jake's health, and she

was eager to assure herself he was still progressing

satisfactorily. It had not been easy hiding her
anxiety from Robin and 5arah, and she was quite
sure they thought she was making a fool of herself
for calling so often. But the truth was, even that
small link formed a bond between them, and
although Jake might not know it, Lani could delude
herself that he did.

'I'm afraid Mr Pendragon checked out several

days ago.' The receptionist shocked her out of her
complacency, and Lani, who had been expecting
the usual response, caught her breath.

'Checked out!' she echoed, realising how ridicu-

lous she must sound. 'But I don't understand. Was
his treatment finished?'

'Just a moment.' The girl cut her off to make

inquiries, but presently she was back with the polite
rejoinder that Mr Pendragon had discharged him-
self on Tuesday. 'I'm sorry,: she added. 'We have
no further information.'

'Thank you.'

Lani responded automatically, the receiver clat-

tering from her nerveless fingers. Jake had left the
hospital! she told herself disbelievingly. He had
discharged himself on the day Clare departed for
Los Angeles.

5he was still sitting staring at the phone when

Mrs Evans entered the room. '1 thought you were
here,' she said, coming in without knocking.
'Here's that cup of tea I promised you. Now, what
would you like for your lunch?'

Lani looked up at her blankly, and the house-

keeper drew in her lips. 'Now what's happened?'
she exclaimed, tutting impatiently. 'Is it Mrs 5t John
again? That woman causes nothing but trouble!'
'Her name is Miss Austin, said Lani dully, pull-
ing herself together with an effort. 'And she left for
Los Angeles three days ago.' .

'And good riddance.' Mrs Evans was unimpress-

ed. 'So what is it?'

'It's Jake,' said Lani, shaking her head. 'Jake

Pendragon. You know. He . . . he' s left the hospi-
tal and I don't know where he's gone.'

'1 see.' Mrs Evans folded her arms. 'And I sup-

pose you think he's gone with your mother.'

'No!' But Lani had to admit the thought had

crossed her mind.

'Then why are you looking so glum? Have you

tried Mr Pendragon's hotel? The Gloucester Court,
wasn't it?'

'As everybody knows,' said Lani bitterly. 'But no.

No, I haven't tried there. Do you think I should?'
'Why not? If you want to know where he is. But I
understood from your father that he had refused to
see you.'

Lani bent her head. 'He had. He has. But 1 won't

accept that. 1 have to see him, Mrs Evans. 1 have to.'

The housekeeper shrugged, and Lani hastily pul-

led out the telephone directory and found the num-
ber for the Gloucester Court Hotel. 'It's here,' she
said, dialling the first three numbers, and Mrs
Evans made a tactful retreat.

'Mr Pendragon vacated his suite a month ago.'

The hotel receptionist flattened her faint hopes. 'He
didn't leave a forwarding address.'

The hot sweet tea Mrs Evans had provided re-

stored Lani's sense of balance. There was no sense in
panicking, she told herself severely, blinking back

her tears. Just because three days ago she had

believed she had weeks rather than days before Jake
left hospital to devise some way of seeing him, was
no reason to despair. What if he had left no clue to
his whereabouts? Someone must know where he
was. But who? a small voice inside her taunted
hollowly, and she had no easy answer to give.
Perhaps he had gone with Clare, she thought
fleetingly, but somehow, she couldn't quite believe
it. How could he have accompanied her mother? He
still needed hospital treatment. Perhaps he had
gone to another hospital. But where? Where?

During the afternoon, she sacrificed her pride

and phoned some friends of her mother's. From the
tones of their voices, she got the distinct impression
that Jake's name was now taboo among Clare's
inner circle, and she suspected they were only
speaking to her on sufferance. But no one, not even
Maggie Pringle, who had been left behind to tie up
her mother' s affairs before joining her in California,
was prepared to offer any information, and by the
time Lani located Elwyn Hughes, she was at the end
of her tether.

'Oh, Lani,' he exclaimed, evidently as surprised as

all the rest to hear from her. 'How nice of you to callo
What a pity I'm leaving for New York in the morn-
ing. We could ha ve arranged to have lunch together
one day.'

Lani suffered his polite pleasantries in silence,

and then asked flatly, 'Did Jake go to Los Angeles
with my mother, Mr Hughes? I've tried to reach him
at the hospital, you see, and they say he checked out
the day Clare left for California.'

There was silence for a moment, and she thought

he was going to be as reticent as the rest, but then he

said pointedly, 'If he didn't tell you where he was
going, Lani, he can't have wanted you to know.'

Lani held her breath. 'So he did go with Clare?'

'1 didn't say that.' Elwyn was evidently drawn

two ways. 'Lani, why have you come to me with
this? Surely you must know I'm not entirely pleased
with you for disrupting your mother's life.'

'For disrupting her life!' There was a catch in

Lani's voice. 'How can you be so subjective? You
know as well as I do that Clare' s got off very lightly.
She could have been convicted for reckless driving
or even attempted murder!'

'Now, now, Lani, don't start making hysterical

accusations. I was speaking personally, 1 admit it.
But you have to remember, your mother means a lot
to me, and between you-you and Pendragon, that
is-you could have destroyed her career.'

Lani choked. 'What about Jake? What about his

career?'

'That was an unfortunate accident. No one-but

no one-would wish it to have happened. But that
doesn't alter the fact that that young man owes a lot
to Clare, and 1 don't think he appreciated it.'

'Oh, yes.' Lani could hear the sob in her voice

now. 'He owes a lot to Clare all right. His injuries,
his state of mind, the knowledge that he'll never
play the piano again-'

Unable to continue, she slammed the receiver

down, resting her face upon it and crying bitterly.
Did no one care that Jake was the real victim here?
Were they all so blind-or so prejudiced-they
couldn't see the truth?

When the phone began to ring she started badly,

lifting her head in confusion and rubbing fiercely at
her eyes. Then, taking a deep breath, she lifted the
receiver and was almost tempted to replace it again
when she heard Elwyn' s contrite tones.

'Don't hang up.' he said at once. '1 want to

apologise. I guess that was pretty callous of me.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that so far as
I'm concerned, there's no hard feelings. Give me a
call when 1 get back from the States. 1 really would
like to try and make it up to you.'

. 'Oh.' Lani moved her shoulders wearily. 'Forget

it, Mr Hughes. 1 guess I couldn't expect anything
else. You did tell me once before how you felt about
my mother. 1 should have realised you were unlike-
ly to help me.'

Elwyn sighed. 'Lani, 1 would help you if 1 could,

but I can't. Okay-Jake didn't go to Los Angeles, if
that's of any use to you. How could he? Clare said
he was still in traction. My guess is he's gone home
to lick his wounds. Didn't 1 once hear something
about Cornwall?'

Lani's lips parted. 'Cornwall!' she breathed, in

sudden anticipation. 'Cornwall! Oh, of course.' She
shook her head helplessly, wondering why she
hadn't thought of it before. Mrs Worth! His grand-
mother! Obviously, he'd go there.1t was his home.
Hadn't he been there once before to visit her, and
arrived back so unexpectedly?

'1 gather that means-something to you.'

Elwyn was waiting for her response, and realis-

ing she had been staring into space for over half a
minute, Lani gathered her wits. 'Oh, yes. Yes,' she
said. 'I-thank you, Mr Hughes. I do appreciate
it.'

'Well, good luck.' Elwyn spoke drily now. 'I gather

you may need it. However, if you do see him, give
him my regards. He really was a brilliant per-
former.'

By the time her father arrived home from the

office, Lani had carried the suitcase containing the
clothes she had used at Robin' s and Sarah' s down-
stairs again, and added various other items she
thought she might need for a short stay. It was
nearing the end of March, but it might still be cold in
the West country, and she draped her leather coat
and a sheepskin jacket over her bags.

She was waiting in the drawing room when her

father returned, and she guessed he had seen her
bags in the hall by the way he carne bursting in on
her.
'Lani! Oh, Lani!' he exclaimed emotionally, and
she suffered his arms about her and his kiss on her
cheek before stepping back from him. 'Y ou' re
home!' he said, gazing at her with moist eyes. 'Oh,
my dear, you don't know how happy this makes
me.
Lani sighed. 'I'm not staying,' she said quietly,
and she couldn't help the twinge of remorse she felt
for his stunned bewilderment.

'Not staying?' he echoed faintly. 'You mean ...

you're going back to Robin's?'

'No.'

'Then what?' Her father blinked. 'Oh, Lani,

you're not leaving me, are you?'

Lani took a deep breath. 'I'm going to Cornwall,'

she told him. 'To Mount's Bay. You remember
Mount's Bay, don't you? Where Mrs Worth lives?'

'Yes, I remember Mount' s Bay.' Her father looked

blank. 'But, why are you going there? To get away

for a while? To be on your own?'

'No.' Lani caught her lower lip between her teeth.

'As a matter of fact, I expect I'11 see Mrs Worth.'

'Mrs W orth?' Roger sought the back of the sofa for

support and stared at her uncomprehendingly. 'For
God's sake, Lani, what is this a11 about? What has
Mrs Worth to do with you?'

'You didn't recognise him, did you?' Lani's lips

twisted. 'The young man we met that day we went
to see her. You do remember that?'

'Vaguely.' Her father frowned. 'There was a

young man, yes. But I hardly spoke to him. Lani,
what has this-'

'1 spoke to him.' She regarded him leve11y. '1

spent the morning with him, as a matter of fact. His
name was Jake Pendragon.'

'No!'

'Yes.' Lani spoke without emphasis. 'He's Mrs

Worth's grandson.'

Roger shook his head. 'You never told me.'

'How could I?' Lani shrugged. 'There was never

an opportunity.'

Roger put a hand to his head. 'Are you saying that

. . . that Pendragon is staying with his grand-
mother?'

'1 believe so.'

'But the fe11ow's in hospital.'

'He was. He discharged himself earlier this

week.'

Roger made a helpless gesture. '1 can't take this

in ... '

'You will.' Lani bent and picked up her bag and

her father stared at her in dismay.

'You can' t mean-you don' t intend to drive down

there tonight!'

'I'm going to set out. How far I get will depend on

how tired I am.'
'But you can't.' Roger spread his hands desper-
ately. 'Lani, you've only just got back. Can't we talk
about this? Can't we spend some time together?
Don't you want to hear what I have to say?'

'1 think you've said enough, Father,' said Lani

flatly, and the formal designation seemed to sever
any lingering threads of the bond formed through-
out her childhood.

Lani spent the night in Exeter. She had driven west

along the M4, joining the M5 at Bristol and speeding
south along the motorways. She surmised a more
direct route would have taken her through Salis-
bury and Yeovil, but she had deliberately avoided
roads which might cause some delay. Motorways at
least gave her the impression that she was making
good headway, and the uncrowded roads gave her
time to think.

She spent the night at a motel adjoining the

motorway and was up next morning in good time to
get on her way. The fact that she had scarcely slept
began to register around mid-morning, but she
pressed on regardless, arriving in Helston just be-
fore noon. She knew she ought to stop for some-
thing to eat, but the urge to get to her destina-
tion and find out if Jake was rea11y there was too
strong, and after refilling the petrol tank she drove
on.

It took her almost an hour to find Tremorna Point.

On that other occasion when she had come with her

father she had paid little attention to her where-
abouts, and the fact that they had driven from Pen-
zance made a considerable difference. But at last
she saw the crenellated turrets of the house she
was looking for standing out against the headland,
and her hands trembled violently as she put the car
into a lower gear and turned into the drive.

The wind took her breath away as she got out of

the car, and she staggered to regain her balance as
the pounding roar of the surf carne irresistibly to her
ears '. Although .it was a brighter day than on the
previous occasion she had been here it was
still bitterly cold, and she hurriedly pulled out
her leather coat and wrapped its warmth about
her.

Her head was throbbing quite badly as she

approached the pillared entrance and it didn't help
to look up and find the shuttered windows of the
house confronting her, like so many closed eyes.
Somebody had to be at home, she told herself
determinedly. It had looked exactly the same when
she came with her father. She should not jump to
conclusions, just because a few windows were
blank.

An iron be11pu11 seemed the only method of

attracting attention, and she tugged it firmly before
thrusting her cold hands back into her pockets. The
wind was wreaking havoc with her hair but she
hadn't brought a scarf, and she turned up her collar
for protection.

To her immense relief, she heard someone com-

ing as she waited, and presently the door swung
inward to expose a middle-aged lady dressed a11 in
black. She was not Mrs Worth, that much was

obvious, but remembering that the old lady had had

a housekeeper, Lani was not dismayed.

'I-I've come to see Mr Pendragon,' she said

clearly. 'Is ... is he here?'

'Mr Pendragon.' The woman's voice had the soft

mellow accent of the area. 'You want to see Mr
Pendragon. '

'Yes.' Lani was trying to be patient, but anxiety,

and the throbbing in her head, were putting cm edge
to her voice. 'He is here, isn't he?'

'Who is it, Hannah?'

The harsh voice Lani had never expected to hear

again echoed irritably down the stairs, and looking
up, she saw the skinny figure of Mrs Worth leaning
over the balcony. In a nightgown, and a flowing
cashmere shawl, she seemed to have changed little
since the last time Lani had seen her, except that
now she was out of bed and the girl could see her
bony outline.

'It's a young lady come to see Mr Jake, Miss

Amelia,' said Hannah, giving Lani her first real
throb of hope. 'Shall I ask her in. It's a cold day
outside.'

'What does she want to see Jake for?'

Mrs Worth's demanding tones were hardly

polite, but Lani had come too far to be put off by the
old woman's rudeness. '1 want to talk to him, Mrs
Worth, , she said staunchly. 'My name is Lani St
John. I've come from London. If you'd just let him
know l' m here-'

'St John? St John?' The old woman peered over

the balcony rail, staring at her. '1 know someone
ca11ed St John, From London,' she added. 'My soli-
citor, Roger St John. Did he send you?'

'No, Mrs Worth.' Lani controlled herself with

difficulty. '1 told you. I've come to see your grand-
son. Could you please ... '

'He' s not here.'

The words were chillingly final, and Lani stared

up at her unbelievingly. It couldn't be true. Jake had
to be here? The old woman was lying. She had to be.

'Are you sure?' With a pounding head Lani stood

her ground, the wind whistling relentlessly about
her ankles. 'Please-it's very important that I speak
with him. Don't you have any idea where he might
be?'

'Why should I?' Mrs Worth wrapped her shawl

closer about her. 'Jake Pendragon means nothing to
me. Now, close the door, will you, Hannah. It's
draughty.'

Lani gasped. 'Mrs Worth-'

'1 can't help you.'

The old woman' s voice faded away as she dis-

appeared from the balcony, and Hannah regarded
her compassionately as she made to close the door.
'I'm sorry, miss,' she said, evidently feeling some
sympathy for the girl, and Lani shook her head
bewilderedly as she began to turn away.

Then Hannah did a strange thing. With a sur-

reptitious glance over her shoulder she quickly
stepped outside, and touching Lani's sleeve she
said, 'He never lived here, you know. Didn't he tell
you? He had ... other arrangements. Do you know
what I mean?'

Lani gazed at her incredulously. 'The Sea House?'

she breathed.
'1 don't know.'

Apparently, Hannah had decided she had said

enough, and with an offhand lift of her shoulders,
she slipped back inside the house. But Lam. had
heard enough to feel her spirits lifting, and with a
rapidly increasing pulse, she hurried to the edge of
the c1iff.

The path was there, as she remembered it, a little

more overgrown perhaps, but accessible nonethe-
less. Slipping and sliding, trying to remember that if
she tripped and fell her recklessness would be for
nothing, she made her way down to the windswept
verandah, her heart thundering in her ears like the
mountainous thunder of the waves below her. It
was all so familiar-amazingly familiar, considering
she had only been here once before, ando that many
years ago. This time there was. no music to guide
her, no lilting strains of a Chopin sonata to delight
her ears, nothing but the sea and the wind as they
battled for supremacy.

Lani refused to consider the possibility that he

might not be there. As she struggled down the
narrow cliff path, she refused to face the fact that
any man who ought still to be on traction would find
it virtually impossible to get down. But he had to be
here, she told herself desperately, and clambering
up the wooden steps she hammered loudly on the
door.

No one answered, but then deep inside her, she

had not really expected anyone to. She had been
crazy to even think Jake could be here. It was
another dead end, another futile attempt to see him,
and she lifted her head to the rugged slope she had
just descended with sudden weakness. She
couldn't climb that again, she thought despairingly.
She simply didn't have the strength.

She fought her way against the wind round the

verandah, looking for somewhere she could sit and
rest, and as she did so, she saw the shutters that
protected the windows had been opened. Stumb-
ling, she grasped the window and, as on that other
occasion, she peered inside. The room was exactly
as she remembered it: the table, the chairs, the
piano. There was even a fire glowing in the grate,
and stretched on one of the sofas that faced each
other across the hearth was a man. Jake!Lani's lips
parted incredulously, and as she hovered there like
some exposed voyeur he turned his head and saw
her.

Ridiculously, Lani drew back out of sight. Seeing

Jake like that had shocked her badly, and although
he was the reason that had brought her here, she
found she couldn't face him. It was all very well
telling herself back in London that if she could only
see him, talk to him, everything would be all right
between them, and quite another to accomplish the
deed when faced with a man who was helpless. Of
course, she thought faintly, that was why he hadn't
answered the door. He wasn't able to. Somehow,
someone must have carried him down here, on a
stretcher perhaps. No doubt, someone was being
paid to look after him. But right now, that someone
was not at home. Jake was here alone.

Dragging herself away from the wall of the house,

Lani turned back towards the door. This was the
moment, she told herself vehemently, resisting the
desire to run. Where moments before she had been
incapable of the effort, now she felt as if she could
take the path in easy strides, anything just to get
away from here, and the awful fear that Jake would
reject her. Hope was a curious thing, she thought.
For weeks she had kept herself going with the belief
that sooner or later Jake would change his mind; she
had even closed her thoughts to any other possibil-
ity. But now that she was faced with reality, now
that she was actually here, and Jake was just on the
other side of the wall, her hopes seemed as substan-
tial as thistledown.

She had reached the door when it opened, and

her breath caught momentarily in her throat. Iake
was standing in the opening regarding her with
unfriendly eyes, and she had that sense of déja vu,
as if all of this had happened before. But not quite as
before, she acknowledged tensely, her eyes moving
swiftly over the padded crutches tucked under his
arms, his bandaged hands hanging loosely beside
them. Nor was his haggard face so familiar, with a
jagged scar running from his hairline to the dark
curve of one eyebrow.

'Well?'

The single word epitomised the fear Lani had felt,

ever since she had peered through his window.
There was no compassion in his voice, no liking
either, and she gazed at him unsteadily, striving to
remain composed.
'He-hello, Jake,' she managed, twisting the
strap of her shoulder bag between her fingers. 'l ...
how are you?'

'What do you want, Lani?'

His voice held a11 the weary bitterness of weeks

spent avoiding this very situation, and Lani felt her
final defences crumbling. She should not have come
here, she thought miserably. She should have real-
ised when he refused to see her that everything was
over between them. How could she have be en so
conceited as lo think that she could succeed where
everyone else had failed? He didn't want her. He
never had. It had been a passing affair, as Clare had
said, and now he only wanted to forget it.

'I-I-'

She. found to he: dismay that she couldn't go on.

Her bitter disappointment, combined with the pain
in her head and the fact that she had had next to
nothing to eat since the previous day, was proving
too much for her system. She must not have reco-
vered yet from her spell in hospital, she thought
dizzily, as bright lights started to explode inside her
head, and although she groped for the wall of the
house, it was just beyond her reach ...

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WHEN Lani opened her eyes, she found she was

lying on a chintz-covered sofa. For a moment, she
didn't immediately register where she was, and her
gaze moved doubtfully over the logs burning in the
grate and the solid stone mantel above it. The effort
of trying to think brought a throbbing pain to her
head, and she shifted restlessly on the soft
cushions. As she did so, she glimpsed the booted
feet stretched across the hearth beside her, and
memory returned with shuddering intensity.

'Wh-what happened?'

'You fainted,' said Jake flatly, seated on the edge

of the sofa opposite, holding a glass of water be-
tween his bandaged fingers. 'Here,' he said. 'Take
these.' Two capsules rested on his palm. 'They
won't do you any harm, and 1 can testify to their
efficiency for treating pain.'

Lani pulled herself up into .a sitting position.

'How-how do you know l' m in pain?'

'You mumbled something about a headache, be-

fore you collapsed at my feet,' replied Jake briefly.
'You look bloody awful. Are you sure you should be
out?'

Lani took the capsules and the glass, her fingers

flinching from the abrasive touch of the bandages.
Swallowing the capsules obediently, she drank
most of the water in the glass, and then handed it
back to him, taking care not to hurt him.

Jake's lips twisted at her rather obvious attempts

to be discreet, and realising she might not have
much time before he threw her out again, Lani
rushed into speech. '1 thought-I mean-I hope 1
haven't been too much of a nuisance. l ... how did
you bring me in here?' She broke off in embarrass-
ment. 'I'm no light weight.'

'There's not that much of you,' declared Jake

carelessly, his eyes running guardedly over her
slight figure. Even in the leather coat, which he
must have unfastened, it was obvious she had lost a
lot of weight, and Lani drew it around her protec-
tively.

'But you-Cl-I mean-' It was difficult to find

the right words. 'Are-are you able to get about?'

'As you see,' he responded, indicating the two

crutches lying beside him. He hesitated, and then
added: 'As soon as these are stronger,' he held out
his hands dispassionately, '1 should be able to man-
age on two sticks. Eventually 1 hope to abandon
them also.'

'Oh, but 1 thought-'

Lani broke off, and Jake arched his brows. 'Yes?

What did you think? That 1 was a cripple? That l'd be

confined to a whee1chair?' He shrugged. 'You know
how people exaggerate. Particularly if it makes
good copy.'

Lani put her feet to the floor. '1 didn't know

you could walk. 1 didn't know anything about
you.' She paused. 'If you'd let me come and see
you-'

'1 didn't want any visitors,' said Jake harshly,

swinging the crutches under his arms and getting
abruptly to his feet. 'And now, if you're feeling
better, 1 suggest you leave. The wind's getting
stronger and 1 shouldn't like to be responsible for
your falling off the cliff.'

Lani looked up at him tremulously. 'At least tell

me how you are? How you're managing? Who is
looking after you?'

'Nobody is looking after me,' retorted Jake short-

ly. '1 don't need any looking after. I'm not entirely
helpless, as you've just pointed out.'

'But you can't mean you go up and down the cliff

path every time you need-'

'No.' He broke into her shocked protest with the

flat syllable. And then, when she was evidently
waiting for him to explain, he added, 'Hannah
brings me everything 1 need.'

'Ah.' Lani nodded, feeling the pain in her head

receding at last. 'But ... shouldn't you be having
therapy? 1 mean ... they told me you discharged
yourself from the hospital, and there are your ban-
dages to change.'

'1 manage.'

Jake was abrupt, and she got unsteadily to her

feet. 'Even so ... '

'For God's sake!' He swore savagely, and then

looking into her eyes with unmistakable hostility he
demanded, 'Why did you come here, Lani? 1 should
have thought 1 had made my feelings perfectly
clear. 1 didn't want to see you when 1 was in
London, and 1 don't want to see you now. How
could you think 1 would?' He lifted his bandaged
hands with ironic emphasis. 'What did you expect
me to do? Greet the cause of my disability with open
arms?' He shook his head scornful1y. 'You know
very little about human nature!'

Lani's breath caught in her throat. 'You ... blame... me?’

'Why not?' Jake stared at her coldly. '1 knew from

the start 1 couldn't afford the luxury of an emotional
entanglement, and 1 was right. I should have quit
while I was ahead. As soon as I‘d made it with you, I
should have got the hell out of that situation.'
His words were so contemptuous, so cruel, that
for a moment Lani forgot the crash and his injuries,
and the fact that he was probably still suffering a
considerable amount of pain. All she could see were
his scornful eyes and mocking lips, and without
hesitation, she pushed him aside and stumbled
towards the door. She had had enough, she
thought despairingly. She couldn't take any more.
Clare was right. He didn't want her, and she was
only hurting herself by staying.

She didn't immediately realise that the force of

her action had knocked him off his feet. The first
thing she heard was the sound of wood hitting
wood as his crutches fell to the floor, and then the
sickening thud of his body as it met the hard wood
blocks. Turning in horror, she saw what she had
done, and she let out a gasp of dismay. Abandoning
her intention to walk out on him, she ran back to his
side, dropping to her knees beside him and cradling
his head in her arms.

'Jake!' Her fingers fluttered anxiously over his

chest and arms. 'Oh, Jake--darling! Are you all
right?' She rested her cheek against his temple. 'I'm
sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, tell me you're not
hurt.'

'I'm all right.'

His voice was curiously strained, and drawing

back, Lani looked down into his dark face. She was
so close she could see the brittle line of skin that
edged his scar and the pulse that beat at his temple
with erratic palpitation. His lips were parted, his
forced breath rising up to her cool and sweet, and
her eyes lifted to his in helpless supplication.

'Damn you, Lani,' he said very distinctly, and

with more strength than she had given him credit
for, he forced her back from him and rolled over so
that he was looking down at her. 'Damn you.' he
said once more, his eyes smouldering with emo-
tion, and then his mouth covered hers and she was
lost.

His whole weight was upon her, imprisoning her

against the hard floor, but Lani hardly felt the
discomfort. Her lips opened wide to his, her arms
sliding about his neck, her fingers tangling eagerly
in the hair at his nape. For fully a minute, Jake held
her in that suffocating embrace, his bandaged
hands cupping her neck, his hungry mouth seeking
and finding a matching urgency. His tongue slip-
ped between her lips and hers encircled it, feeling
him, tasting him, and wanting his possession.

But then, when there was no mistaking the

hardening flesh against her stomach, Jake abruptly
rolled away from her. Fumbling for his crutches, he
jammed them beneath his arms and got to his feet,
staggering as he did so but managing to keep his
balance. For a few moments he stood still, breathing
deeply, and Lani scrambled up on to her knees to
face him. In spite of what had happened, she
sensed his raw frustration, and her nerves twisted
uneasily when she met his thwarted gaze.

'Get up.' he said, leaning heavily on the crutches

as he made his way towards the door. '1 want you to
get out of here-now! And don't come back.'

Lani hesitated, and then got obediently to her

feet. But she didn't follow him towards the door.
Instead, she shed her leather coat on to the arm of
one of the sofas, and moved on slightly shaky legs
to warm her hands at the fire.

She had her back to him, so she couldn't see the

scowl that contorted his face at her insubordination.
But she could feel the anger emanating from him,
and his voice was harsh when he exclaimed, 'What
the hell do you think you're doing?'

Realising the gamble she was taking, Lani

schooled her features and turned towards him. I’m
staying,' she said, taking her life into her hands,
and his reaction was not unexpected.

'Like hell you are!' he swore violently. 'You're

leaving now. This minute. For Christ's sake, get out
of here before 1 break your bloody neck!'

'No.' Lani stood her ground, even though her

knees felt like jelly. 'You can't make me. 1 want to
stay.'

'Well, 1 don't want you to stay.' Jake dragged

himself back across the room. 'Are you crazy or
something? You can't stay here if 1 don't want you.
Lani, for pity's sake, stop all this nonsense.'

'It's not nonsense.' Lani drew a deep breath. 'You

need someone here to look after you-to care about
you-'
'No--'

'-and 1 want to do it.' She shook her head at the

look of fury in his face, and hurried on. '1 care about
you, Jake. 1-1 love you, you know that, and you
love me-'

'No!' Jake overrode her ruthlessly. 'No, 1 don't

love you, Lani. I thought I'd made that plain.' He
lifted his eyes heavenward for a moment and then
continued vehemently, 'You've got it wrong. Love
never carne into it. I wanted you, yes. I wanted your
body. But that's all. I never said I loved you, did I?

Can you honestly tell me that I did?' .

Lani quivered, tempted even now to give up and

go home, but something, some inner core of convic-
tion, forced her to go on. It doesn’t matter, she said
doggedly. 'All right. So you don't love me. But you
still want me-'

'Because of what happened just now?' he

snarled. 'Because 1 had a perfectly natural reaction
to a woman's body? God, Lani, these injuries don't
mean I'm impotent. I hope I'm still normal in that
respect. But it's been a long time since 1 had a
woman's softness under me, and I can't help it if I
can' t disguise my sex!'

Lani bent her head. ‘I’m staying.'

'What do you mean, you're staying? Where do

you think you're going to stay?'

'Here.' She hesitated. '1 presume there are bed-

rooms. Don't worry. 1 can look after myself.'

'This is crazy!' .

Still glaring at her, Jake lowered himself on to the

arm of thé sofa nearest to him. Evidently, weakness
was getting the better of valour, and lines of strain
were etched beside his nose and mouth. But he
continued to look at her with bitter loathing, and
Lani could not deny she had set herself a daunting
task.

'Are you saying you're staying here, with or

without my permission?' he asked tautly. and Lani
nodded. 'What makes you think I'l1let you?'

Lani hesitated for a moment. Then she spread her

hands. 'How can you stop me?' she asked, her logic
as cruel as his had been, and she winced at the pain
she saw in his face.

'1 assume you mean because of these?' he re-

sponded at last, displaying his hands, and Lani
lifted her shoulders.

'If you say so.'

'And what happens when they get stronger,

when I m not so dependent on these?' he muttered,
thrusting the crutches aside, and Lani shrugged.

'1'11 face that when it happens,' she said, amazed

at her temerity. 'Now, could I have something to
eat. I didn’ t stop for lunch, and I'm starving!'

A pulse in J ake's jaw throbbed revealingly. 'Why

ask me?'. he demanded, staring down at his hands,
and Lani had to steel herself to walk past him. 'By
the way,' as she reached the door, which she
remembered led into the kitchen, his voice arrested
her 'there are no-bedrooms,' he told her, emphasis-
ing the plural. 'There is one bedroom-mine; and a
boxroom, fu11 of old music and manuscripts.
There's only one bed, too. Mine again, and I have
no intention of shifting out of it for you.'

'1 wouldn't expect you to.' Lani's tongue

appeared to moisten her dry lips. 'We could ...
share it.'

'No!'

This time his anger brought him half off the sofa,
but the obvious pain this caused him drove him
back again. And Lani knew that in this he would
have his way. Staying here against his will was one
thing; forcing herself into his bed was quite another,
and she lifted her shoulders as she opened the
door.

'1 can sleep down here,' she said, refusing to be

deterred by his frustration, and before he could say
anything more, she closed the door behind her.

She found herself in a narrow passage at the back

of the house with two doors leading off. It was lucky
one of these was open for the passage was unlit, and
stepping through the doorway, she saw she was in
the kitchen.
It was a surprisingly modern kitchen, considering
the apparent age of the house, and in spite of his
enforced disability, it was remarkably clean and
neat. Hannah again, she suspected, relieved that
the housekeeper had not abandoned him even if his
grandmother had. At least he wouldn't starve with
her to tend to his needs, and Lani felt an immense
amount of gratitude for the woman who had helped
her, too.

After plugging in the electric kettle, she surveyed

her surroundings. An examination of the cup-
board s that flanked the sin k and draining area pro-
duced a knowledge of the whereabouts of pans and
cleaning material s, while the wa11 cupboards above
the fridge and washing machine revealed china and
glassware and dried foodstuffs. Tins and jars of jam
were discovered in yet another cupboard, and the
fridge was amply stocked with pre-cooked foods.

She was whipping up some eggs to make

omelettes, when she became aware that someone
was watching her. Looking up, she found Jake had
come to stand at the kitchen door, supporting him-
self with one shoulder against the jamb.

'You don't have to do this, you know,' he said

harshly, and Lani sighed. 'There are plenty of de-
cent restaurants in Helston or Penzance. Why don't
you go and buy yourself some lunch? Why this
desire to play house, a11 of a sudden?'

'1 like cooking,' she said quietly. 'As a matter of

fact, it was one of the few things I enjoyed at the
finishing school Daddy sent me to. And I'm quite
good at it, too. As you'l1 find out.'

'Will I?' His mouth hardened. 'I'm quite capable

of opening a tin. I have an electric opener, if you
haven't noticed.'

'You can't live out of tins and pre-packed food,'

retorted Lani flatly. 'Just because you're-we11, just
because you're-'

'Crippled?' he supplied. 'Was that what you were

going to accuse me of? Beware what you say, Lani. I
won't always be as helpless as I am now.'

Lani turned away to put the frying pan on the

ring. Then, ignoring his scowling face, she asked,
'Have you eaten today?'
Jake's mouth compressed. 'You can't really mean
to go through with this.'

'Through with what?' She was deliberately obtuse.

'You know.' He breathed heavily. '5taying here!'

'Why not?'

'Because you can't.' His eyes burned with his

frustration. 'For Christ's sake, Lani, don't you care
what people think?'

'Not particularly.

'Not even your father?'

'Especia11y not him,' she responded tautly. 'Now,

do you want something to eat or don't you?'

'I'm not hungry,' he muttered savagely. Then:

'Lani, come to your senses! If you stay here, people
will assume we're living together.'

'We will be.'

'You know what I mean.' He shook his head.

'Don’t you care about your reputation?'

'My reputation?' Lani caught her breath. 'Oh,

Jake, since when have you cared about my reputa-
tion?'

'A11 right then, mine,' he snapped angrily. '1 don't

want everybody to think you're my mistress!'

'No?' Lani smarted at the deliberate insult, but

she didn't show it. 'Oh, well,' she said light1y,
'that's just too bad, isn't it? Because I'm not about to
walk out.'

Jake was regarding her broodily now, and ignor-

ing his malevolent gaze, she poured half the beaten
eggs into the pan. She had grated some cheese, and
this quickly fo11owed them, promoting an aroma
that was both savoury and mouth-watering.

'Very we11.' She thought for a moment Jake had

fina11y accepted that she was to stay, but his next
words were like a physical blow. '1 don't want Clare
to come back and find you here,' he stated, his eyes
holding hers without compassion. 'As soon as 1 can
get these fingers working again, I'm going to get
back to my music, and this time there'll be no
distractions, except ones 1 can handle!'

Lani weathered this verbal slap in the face with

amazing resilience, considering there was always
the possibility that he meant it. But somehow she
knew she had gone beyond the point of no return,
and nothing he said now could change that.

'So why did you leave the hospital?' she inquired

reasonably, managing to go on with her work as if
she was not fighting for her survival. '1 mean,' she
added, 'why didn't you let them put you on a course
of therapy? As 1 remember, that is the usual treat-'

'Shut up!'

His anguished voice silenced her, and in the

pregnant hush that followed, she knew an almost
irresistible urge to go and comfort him. He looked
so defeated suddenly, so alone. If only she could
help him, she thought. If only he would let her.

None of this showed in her face, of course. She

knew only too well that Jake would only interpret
her concern as pity, and he would not thank her for
it. Instead, she had to stand by helplessly as he'
abruptly turned away, and pretend to be intent on
dishing up the omelette as he dragged himself out
of her sight.

Determined not to let his despair get to her, Lani

put the cooked omelette to keep warm while she
made a second. While it was frying, she opened a
tin of tomatoes as there were no fresh ones, and
made a spicy sauce to serve with the eggs. It was a
makeshift meal, she reflected, after setting plates
and cutlery on a tray, but at least it was colourful,
and it smelt quite delicious as she carried the tray
through to the living room.

Jake was slumped on the sofa again, and he didn't

look up at her entrance. He looked as if the events of
the past hour had drained every drop of strength
from him, and Lani's heart contracted. Was she
doing the right thing, she fretted, forcing him to let
her stay here? As he so obviously wanted her to
leave, oughtn't she to comply with his wishes? But
then she remembered the minutes she had spent in
his arms, minutes when she could have sworn he
was hungry for her love, and her doubts receded.
She couldn't leave him, not without giving them
both a chance. If by staying she became his whip-
ping boy, then so be it. Better that than nothing at
all.

She spread the linen tablecloth she had found in a

drawer in the kitchen over the gateleg table. Setting
out plates and cutlery, she was not displeased with
her efforts, and she turned determinedly to Jake,
who was now feeding logs on to the fire.

'I've made us a meal,' she said, colouring in spite

of herself. 'Please, will you come to the table? Or 1
can bring it over there, if you'd rather.'

Jake turned to look at her, and his eyes were as

cold as marble. '1 told you,' he declared harshly,
'I'm not hungry. When 1 want something to eat 1'11
get it. Now, go away, will you? I'm busy.'

Lani's jaw quivered briefly, but then it hardened.

'You don't want anything from me, is that it?'

'That's about it.' he agreed, lolling back against

the sofa and looking up at her. 'If you insist on
staying here ... well, as you say, there's not a lot 1
can do about that right now. But that doesn't mean 1
have to collaborate with you, does it?'

'You-you bastard!'

'Very probably.' His mouth thinned. 'I’ve been

called many things in my lifetime. However, one
thing 1 don't have to do is argue my legitimacy with
you. Why don't you go and eat up your food like a
good girl?'

'There's too much for one,' said Lani stiffly, refus-

ing to give up, and Jake gave a savage thrust at the
sputtering logs with his boot. It must have hurt him
to do so, for he went quite white and collapsed
against the cushions weakly. But his eyes were still
scathing as they met her anxious gaze.

'Go away,' he told her tightly. '1 don't care if

you've overdone the cordon bleu bit. Eat it yourself.
You look as though you need it. You're as skinny as
a beanpole!'

Most of the eggs went into the dustbin. Lani's

appetite had been negligible for weeks, and
although she had felt quite hungry while she was
preparing the meal, Jake's attitude had destroyed
any enjoyment she might have taken in it.
Deciding there was no point in trying to reason
with him in this mood, she washed the dishes and
put them away, and then decided to explore the rest
of the house. After all, if she was going to stay here,
she had to be conversant with the layout of the
place, and more precisely, she didn't want to have
to ask Jake the whereabouts of the bathroom.

A soft green carpet flowed up the stairs, and after

only a momentary hesitation, Lani climbed to the
upper floor. She switched on the light on the land-
ing, which was similar in situation to the hall below
and then surveyed the two doors that confronted
her, wondering which, if either, was the bathroom.

The first room she peered into was definitely not

the bathroom. It was, as Jake had said, a boxroom,
filled with piles of music scores and dusty manu-
scripts, and evidently unused since his return. The
wallpaper was quite pretty, and she supposed that a
duster and polish would soon put a shine on the
windows, but there was no bed, as he had also
said, and she couldn't see herself sleeping on the
floor.

The other room was not the bathroom either, but

Lani stepped inside nevertheless. This was Jake's
room, obviously, and she gazed about her curious-
ly, eager to learn anything which might help her
understand him. It was a huge room, as big, or
perhaps even bigger, than the room below, with a
carpet patterned in shades of brown and cream, and
long velour curtains at the windows.

The view from the windows was spectacular, and

on summer nights Lani guessed it must be lovely to
open the casement and listen to the murmur of the
sea on the rocks below. Right now, the thunderous
roar was not inviting, and she turned her eyes to the
room again.

It was furnished Spartanly, with a heavy oak

wardrobe and matching chest of drawers, and a
massive four-poster bed. Despite its evident age,
the bed was equipped with a modern mattress, and
its valence and down-filled quilt fitted perfectly
with their surroundings. There were bookshelves
beside the bed, and a heavy bedside cabinet, and
incongruously enough in the window embrasure
there stood a solid mahogany desk. Perhaps Jake
used to work here sometimes, she reflected, linger-
ing longer than she should. It made her realise how
little she knew about him and his life beyond what
Elwyn Hughes had told her.

She eventually discovered the bathroom was

opposite the kitchen downstairs, and after attend-
ing to her needs, she returned to the living room.
She half expected Jake to make some comment on
her prolonged absence-he must have known
where she was and what she was doing-but he
didn't. He was still sitting by the fire, gazing darkly
into the flames, and he only allowed her a brooding
appraisal when she carne to join him.

The afternoon had slipped away, and Lani won-

dered rather anxiously when Jake intended to make
his evening meal. She was uncomfortably aware
that her suitcase and the rest of her things were still
resting in the boot of her car, and she wasn't at a11
convinced that Jake would not lock her out if she
went to get them.

Seating herself on the sofa opposite him, she tried

not to stare too obviously at him. But his lean dark
face and ho11owed features were irresistibly appeal-
ing, and after so many weeks without seeing him,
she was hungry for any intimacy.

'Don't do that,' he said at last, revealing he was

not indifferent to her eyes upon him, and Lani's
spirits lifted at this evidence of his awareness.
'Don't do what?' she asked innocently, and he
turned his head on the cushions to see her better.

'The wind's getting stronger,' he remarked. '1

shouldn't like to be out on the cliff road tonight.' He
glanced at his watch. '1 guess you've got a little over
an hour before it gets dark.'

Lani shrugged. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Jake suppressed the oath that twisted his lips and

bent to massage his thigh, as if his emotional condi-
tion was having some effect on his physical one.
'You rea11y mean to stay?' he demanded heavily.
'You're out of your mind.'

'1 don't think so.'

Jake regarded her frustratedly for a few seconds,

and then, adopting a different tone of voice, he said,
'Look, 1 realise you think you're on some crusade
here, but it wouldn't work, believe me!'

'Why wouldn't it?'

He sighed. 'We11, because you'd be wasting your
time. You have a job-a career. You can't afford this
kind of commitment.'

'Surely I'm the best judge of that.'

'No!' His denial was as violent as before, and

abandoning his brief attempt at persuasion, his
mouth set in a thin line. 'What do 1 have to do to get
you out of here?' he snarled. 'Are you so thick-
skinned that nothing 1 say can touch you?'

'It seems like it, doesn't it?' she remarked, leaning

back and crossing her legs, and the thoughtless
action exposed the slender line of her thigh. With
her skirt riding up above her knees, the whole
length of her legs was outlined in sharp relief, and
although she would never have thought of using
her body against him, his sudden intake of breath
was plainly audible. His eyes were on her legs, on
the shapely curve of bone and muscle he had once
caressed with such pleasure, and Lani's response
was purely instinctive. Without hesitation, her
hands moved to stroke their lissom beauty, and the
sensuality of her trailing fingers was not lost on
Jake. She was not consciously arousing him, she
was doing something that seemed to come natura11y
to her, and the man opposite could not tear his eyes
away.

Only when her hands probed the buttons of her

shirt did he seem to come to his senses. With a
constricted groan, he grasped his crutches and
hauled himself to his feet. Without looking at her
again, he dragged himself to the door that led into
the hall, and levering it open, he disappeared
through it. Moments later, she heard the thumping
sound as he mounted the stairs and crossed the
landing, and then silence.

Without realising it, she had been holding her

breath, but now she expelled it on a shuddering
sigh. Pulling her skirt down over her knees again,
she got unsteadily to her feet, and as she did so she
realised her shameless behaviour had given her the
opportunity she needed. She could get her things
from the car now. Jake was unlikely to come down-
stairs again immediately and if she intended to go
through with this, she had to have a change of
clothes.

Pulling on her leather coat, she tied the belt about

her securely before letting herself out of the house.
As Jake had said, the wind was increasing in force,
and it was an effort to fight her way up the cliff path.

The Capri was still parked where she had left it,
and deciding it would be safer in a less exposed
position, she drove it round the side of the house
and parked it beside a row of outbuildings. Then,
gathering her belongings together, she struggled
back to the path. No one accosted her. No one knew
she was here, except Hannah, and she was unlikely
to tell.

With the wind buffeting her unsteady progress,

Lani at last reached the foot of the steps, and setting
down her suitcase, she paused a moment to recover
her breath. Having negotiated the path twice in one
day, she was positively incredulous that Jake
should have made it at all in his condition, and she
thought it was a measure of the man himself that he
had refused to be deterred. He was stubborn, that
much was obvious, but how stubborn Lani had yet
to find out.

With a somewhat weary shrug of her shoulders,

she picked up her suitcase again and climbed the
steps. Although she had still entertained some
doubts as to whether Jake might attempt to bar her
from the house, the door opened effortlessly to her
touch, the wind taking it out of her fingers, and
slamming it noisily against the wall inside. Turning
slightly to accommodate the suitcase and the rest of
her belongings, Lani stepped thankfully in out of
the wind, and then froze at the sound of Jake's
crutches as he carne hurriedly down the stairs. He
must have thought she was just leaving, she specu-
lated apprehensively, and closed the door behind
her with nerveless fingers.

He carne into the living room with amazing

speed, only to stop in his tracks at the sight of Lani,
laden down with her coat and her case, and the rug
from the car which she thought she might need. Her
lips had parted to deliver the taut rejoinder that he
was wasting his time, that she had already been up
to the car and got her things, and that if he had
intended to lock the door, he was too late, but the
words were never spoken. The look of palpable
relief that crossed Jake's face as he realised she
had not walked out on him was breathtaking, and
for a heart-stopping moment she was bereft of
speech.

But then, as if realising how revealing his express-

ion must be, Jake turned his head away, and took
several steadying breaths. His reckless progress
down the stairs had taken what little strength he
had, and Lani ached to go to him as he struggled to
the sofa.

'Did you think I'd gone?' she ventured at last,

dropping her bags to the floor and unfastening her
coat, and he regarded her defeatedly.

'Yes,' he said, without prevarication. 'Yes, 1

thought you'd gone. It would be better for both of
us if you had.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SLEEPING on a sofa was not the same as sleeping in a

bed, Lani found. To begin with, it wasn't long
enough, and she had spent most of the night curled
up into a ball. And in addition, the cushions were
not the same as a mattress, and no matter how she
tried, she could not avoid the discomforting crevice
where one cushion joined another.

It had been a wild night, too, the wind whistling

eerily around the eaves of the Sea House, and
making Lani wonder how securely its foundations
had been set. It seemed so precarious, set out on its
ledge, and alone in the dark, she had been sure she
felt it move.

However, in the morning, the wind had dropped

somewhat and the sun was shining, and sliding out
from beneath her quilt, Lani tiptoed across to the
windows. Drawing the curtains aside, she had her
first glimpse of a friendly ocean, blue seas stretching
as far as the horizon, glistening like a jewel beneath
the sun's rays.

She did not linger long at the window. The fire

had gone out in the night and the grate was cold.
She was cold, too, even in her beige silk pyjamas,
and the polished floor was cold to her bare feet, with
only a rug on the hearth to protect them.

Rummaging in the case, which she had not been

able to unpack the night before, she found her
mules and pushed her feet into them. Then, rub-
bing her arms briskly, she hurried into the kitchen,
plugging in the kettle before searching for some
firewood.

She discovered a pile of sticks just outside the

back door, stacked beside a load of logs. She didn't
have to look any further for fuel, and scurrying back
inside again, she quickly raked out the grate and
re-lit the fire.

By the time the logs were crackling merrily, the

kettle had boiled, and Lani made tea. Setting out
two cups and saucers, she added both milk and
sugar to Jake's, surmising that like most men he
liked his tea sweet.

It was only as she was climbing the stairs that it

crossed her mind that her attire was hardly respect-
able. Having lived with only her father and Mrs
Evans all these years, she had grown used to flitting
about the house half dressed, and it hadn' t occurred
to her to stop and put some clothes on before taking
Iake his tea.

Besides, she reflected ruefully, there was no

guarantee that he would let her into his room. Last
night, he had avoided every overture she made,
and eventually he had taken himself off to the
kitchen. It was some time later that she discovered
he had opened a tin of ravioli, and that and a can of
Coke were all he had had since her arrival.

He had provided a quilt for her to use, however.

She had found that in the living room when she

returned from the bathroom before settling down
for the night. And as she snuggled under its soft
feathers, she had recalled that moment when she
returned from her trip to the car with a glimmer of
hope. No matter that it might have been his un-
admitted need for company that had brought that
look of relief to his face. In an obscure way, he
needed her companionship, and for the present
that was enough.

A board creaked at the top of the stairs as she

crossed the landing, and she started at the unex-
pected sound. Then, reaching his door she tapped
on the panels, waiting with some trepidation for his
reaction. When there was none, she opened the
door anyway, stepping inside with more daring
than confidence.

It was still comparatively early, barely half past

seven, but Jake was awake. He was lying on his
back in the middle of the huge bed, his arms resting
against the pillows above his head, his chest bare
above the quilt. He had heard her, and his head
turned towards the door as she carne into the room.
Bis eyes narrowed as he took in her attire, but Lani
ignored his expression. Feeling a little flame of
excitement inside her at the realisation he was
briefly at her mercy, she approached the bed and
looked down at him with carefully assumed non-
chalance.

'I've brought you some tea,' she said, when he

made no move to sit up. 'Would you like me to help
you? I could prop up your pillows, if you'd like.'

'1 don't need any assistance,' he responded taut-

ly. 'As you've brought the tea, you might as well put
it down. I may drink it later.'

'And I may just pour it over your head,' ex-

claimed Lani, with a grimace. 'Couldn't you at least
say thank you?'

Jake shrugged. 'All right. Thank you.'

Lani sighed. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Very well.' He paused. 'Did you?'

She lifted her shoulders. 'Reasonably.'
He frowned. 'What was wrong?'
'Nothing.'

'Lani-'

'Oh-well, my legs are too long, 1 guess,' she

mumbled. 'It's a lovely morning. The sun is shin-
ing.'

'You did open the couch out, didn't you?' he

queried, and Lani looked blank.

'Open it out?'

'They convert to double beds,' Jake explained

levelly. 'I'm sorry. 1 should have told you.'

Lani gasped. 'You mean-they're bed-settees?'

‘I’m afraid so.'

She shook her head. 'And 1 spent the night curled

up like a ball!'
'You did insist on staying,' he reminded her drily,
and she had no answer for that.

'Anyway,' she said, setting his cup down on the

bedside cabinet, 'now that we've stopped shouting
at each other, isn't it time we talked? Really talked, 1
mean?'

'Lani-'

'No, listen to me, please.' With cautious optim-

ism, she seated herself on the side of his bed, and
taking comfort from the fact that he didn't move
away from her, she said, '1 know you didn't ask me
to come here, and maybe 1 am being presumptuous
in staying, but 1 do want to help you. 1 do!' She
sighed. 'And we can' t go on living together in a state
of armed conflict. It just isn't sensible. How can 1
help you to get better if you won't even speak to
me?'

'No one can help me to get better,' retorted Jake

flatly, but he made no attempt to dislodge her. 'I've
got to do this myself. It's the only way. That's why 1
discharged myself from hospital.'

Lani caught her lower lip between her teeth.

'But-wasn't that rather precipitate? 1 mean, they
wouldn't have expected you to stay there if you
hadn't needed treatment.'

'What treatment?' Jake was harsh suddenly. 'Hol-

land knows one of my legs will never be com-
pletely cured. And my hands--' he surveyed the~
with undisguised dislike '-what they need 1S
exercise, the kind of exercise they can't ever give
them.'

Lani hesitated for a moment, and then, pur-

posefully, she reached for one of his hands and he Id
it between both of hers. She half expected him to
pull away, but he didn't, and with her tongue
between her teeth, she started to unwind the ban-
dage.

'What do you think you're doing?' Jake would

have drawn away then, but she wouldn't let him,
and after a charged look had passed between them,
he let her have her way. 'It's not very pretty,' he
said as the last of the bandages carne off, and Lani
visibly paled at his careless understatement. 'You
see now why 1 keep the bandages on,' he remarked
bitterly. '1 avoid looking at them as much as poss-
ible.'

Lani shook her head. 'How did it happen?'

'They tell me it was the glass from the headlights,'
he replied with a grimace. 'They also tell me I've
been very lucky. Years ago, 1 should probably have
lost the use of one or both of them.'

'And you haven't?'

Jake shook his head, flexing his fingers without

too much effort, turning them so that they curled
with disturbing firmness around her palm. 'They're
weak,' he said dispassionately. 'So many of the
bones were broken, and in place s they had pro-
truded through the muscle. But they've sewn
me together quite adequately, and my hands get
stronger every day.'

'1 read that your hands were crushed.'

'1 suppose they must have been,' he replied flatly.

'But fortunately, only one of the tendons was
actually severed. It was the nerves they were con-
cerned about, but they've done a good job.'

Lani shook her head and then, unable to pre-

vent herself, she lifted his hand to her face, press-
ing her lips to its scarred and battered exterior.
'Oh, Jake,' she breathed, and he could feel her
tears against his skin. 'You don't have to hide
them ... '

He withdrew his hand abruptly, and she was left

to smudge her tears away. '1 told you. 1 find them
repulsive,' he declared, reaching for the bandage.
'Now, do you want to help me do this, or must 1
re place it myself?'

Lani hung back, loath to pander to his stubborn-

ness, but then, realising he would do it with or
without her assistance, she took the bandage from
him and deftly rewound it.

'Thanks.' He examined her efforts with approval.

'That' s the neatest it' s looked since 1 left St Augus-
tine's.'

'You mean they encouraged you?'

'1 told them 1 wanted to disguise them until 1 got

home,' he admitted carelessly. 'What does it mat-
ter? 1'11 never play again.'
Lani stared at him. 'But you said-'

'That was yesterday.' Jake sighed, and shifted to a

more comfortable position. 'This morning, lying
here, 1 realised how foolish it was for me to lie about
something so obvious. Sooner or later, you were
bound to find out anyway.' His lips twisted. 'When
the quotes brilliant young concert pianist close
quotes didn't return to the platform,' he added
mockingly.

'Oh, Jake!'

'Stop saying, 11 oh, Jake", and be thankful it wasn't

you. 1 was told your only serious injury was a
fractured skull. 1 gather that has mended now.'
Lani bent her head. '1 think so.'

'Good.'

Jake's unbandaged fingertips brushed the hem of

her jacket, and on impulse, she exclaimed, 'You
don't mean that about not playing again, do you?
Don' t you think-don' t you think you owe it to
yourself-to everybody who has had faith in you-'

Jake' s expression hardened. 'And don' t you think

I've paid my debt to society?' he demanded rough-
ly. 'Or are you talking in financial terms?'

Lani bent her head. 'It's nothing to do with me.'

'No, it's not,' he agreed harshly. 'And we've
talked long enough. Go and put some clothes on.
You're shivering.'

'Jake-'

'Not now, Lani.' His tone was forced, a muscle

jerking at his jawline. 'Hannah will be coming
shortly, and 1 don't want her to find you up here.'
'1' m sorry.'

Lani got abruptly to her feet, and as if regretting

his harsh tone, Jake rolled on to his side facing her.
'Look, I will drink the tea, I promise,' he told her
evenly. 'It was kind of you to bring it up. I do
appreciate it, honestly.'

'Do you?'

Her response was deliberately provocative, but

the tears glinting on her lashes were not assumed.
'Yes,' he said roughly, and then, looking away from
her, he added, 'It isn't easy going up and down
stairs on these!' He gestured towards his legs. '1
usually wait until Hannah puts in an appearance.'

Lani moistened her lips. 'You didn't tell me about

your legs. Were they very badly injured?'

'Not desperately.' He sighed. 'One of them is

fairly good now, and the other-' He broke off, but
after a moment he continued, 'My knee was dam-
aged. It's had to have surgery. For the present, it's
still pretty useless.'

'Can I see?'
'Lani!'

'Well, can I?'

'1 think not.' He drew a laboured breath. 'Unlike

you, I don't wear pyjamas, and-'

'1 don' t mind.' Lani' s eyes moved over his limbs

outlined beneath the quilt. '1 have ... seen you that
way before.'

'I know.'

All of a sudden, the atmosphere was charged

with emotion, and equally as suddenly, Lani' s con-
fidence deserted her. She felt as if she had been
prodding a sleeping tiger and it had abruptly turned
to confront her. All her preconceived notions were
swept away by the look in Jake's eyes, and a wave of
shame engulfed her at the realisation of what she
had done. This wasn't how she had meant it to be.
She didn't want Jake to take her because he was
starved of female companionship and she had made
herself available. If he touched her now, it would be
the result of her wanton offer, she realised sickly,
and that thought alone was enough to cool her
blood.

'Lani,' he said, and the rawness of his tone sent

her scuttling towards the door.

'Some other time perhaps,' she murmured lame-

ly, and was out the door and down the stairs before
he could respond.

She was washed and dressed in honey-coloured

corded pants and a matching skinny-rib sweater
when the housekeeper arrived. Hannah evidently
had her own key, and Lani was doing her hair in the
bathroom when she heard its abortive rattle in the
lock. No. doubt Jake generally removed his key
before gomg. to bed, she speculated, hurrying to let
the woman m, and Hannah confirmed this as she
put her key away.

'Miss ... St John, isn't it?' she said, not looking

especially surprised to see her, and the girl nodded.

'Actually, my name's Lani,' she volunteered, as

Hannah carne into the room and started to remove
her coat. 'I ... thank you for letting me know Jake
was here. I didn't know where next to look.'

Hannah's homely face registered a quiet satisfac-

tion. 'I'm sure you'd have thought of it yourself,
sooner or later, ' she demurred, folding her coat over
the back of a chair. '1 gather he was pleased to see
you, seeing as you spent the night.'

'Oh-' Lani looked down at the quilt, crumpled

as she had left it, and bent to gather it up into her
arms. 'I--er-would you like some tea ... or cof-
fee? I haven' t had time to prepare any breakfast yet.'

'Bless you, you don't have to wait on me, miss,'

Hannah exclaimed, lifting one end of the quilt and
helping Lani to fold it. '1 generally come down about
this time to make Jake a meal and to do whatever
needs to be done. Miss Amelia doesn't wake until
later, you see.'

'You mean Mrs Worth,' said Lani, with a grimace.

'Doesn't she care about her grandson at all? When I
spoke to her yesterday, she acted as if he was a. . . a
virtual stranger.'

'Ah, well,' Hannah took the quilt from the girl

and showed her how to stow it away in the cavity
beneath the sofa. 'You shouldn't pay too much
attention to what Mrs Worth says. She and Jake
have always had a kind of love-hate relationship.'

'Love-hate?'

Lani sounded sceptical, but Hannah' s expression

was convincing. 'Of course,' she said, leading the
way into the kitchen. 'It' s always been that way.
They're too alike, I suppose, too stubborn. In any
event, don't you run away with the idea that Miss
Amelia doesn't care about her grandson. It just isn't
true.'

'But she was so objectionable!'

'Yes, well ... ' Hannah looked her up and down
briefly. 'You're lucky she didn't realise who you
were. If she'd suspected you were that woman's
daughter, she'd have had the police throw you off
the property.'

Lani caught her breath. 'But-you know.'

'Yes. ' Hannah opened up the percolator and after

emptying out the grains, spooned some fresh coffee
into the strainer. 'But I was prepared to give you
the benefit of the doubt. I thought Jake would
get rid of you soon enough, if that was what he
wanted.'

Lani glanced apprehensively towards the open

door and the stairs beyond, and then shook her
head. '1 don't know what to say. I suppose you've
read about the ... the accident in the papers.'

'If it was an accident,' remarked Hannah sagely,

setting the coffee to perk. 'It seems to me it should
be your mother down here visiting, if she cares
about him as much as the papers say. Instead of
which, you turn up, all pale-cheeked and heavy-
eyed, and he doesn't turn you away.'

Lani sighed. 'It's not quite that simple-'

'Nothing ever is.' Hannah looked at her steadily.
'Anyway, it's none of my business. Just so long as
you know what you're doing.'

'Oh, I know.' Lani made an involuntary gesture.

'And thanks. For your confidence.'

Hannah shrugged. 'He needs someone. I can't be

here all the time, and this is a lonely place.'

'He could stay up at the house, couldn't he?'

'He could.' Hannah grimaced. 'But he won't. Oh,

it's all history now, but I suppose he still bears a
grudge against his grandmother for the way she
behaved towards his father.'

'His father?' Lani frowned, and then as casually

as she could, she pushed the door to, so the funnel
of the stairs was not so widely visible. 'What about
his father?'

Hannah took a packet of bacon from the fridge

and began to open it. '1 suppose there' s no harm in
telling you,' she said. 'We11, Miss Elizabeth-that
was Jake's mother, you understand-she was the
apple of her parent's eye. They only had the one
child, you see, and she was thoroughly spoiled. Oh,
she was a beautiful girl, 1'11 give you that. But they
gave her too much of her own way, and when she
fe11 in love with Jake's father, she wouldn't listen to
reason. 1 mean, John Pendragon was a travelling
man. It was obvious he wouldn't settle down in any
one place for long. But Miss Elizabeth would have
her way, and she married him against her parents'
wishes.'

Lani nodded. 'Jake once told me that.'

'About his father?'

'We11, about his mother marrying against her

mother's wishes.'

'Ah.' Hannah nodded. 'Miss Amelia took it hard,

she did. An unforgiving person she can be, if she
feels she's been slighted.'

Lani frowned. 'What about Elizabeth's father?'

'Jake's grandfather?' Hannah pursued her lips.
'He died. Soon after Miss Elizabeth left home. It was
he who left her this house. Everything else went to
Miss Amelia.'

'1 see.' Lani nodded. 'And what is a travelling

man?'

'A tinker! A gipsy!' declared Jake's ironic tones

behind her. 'Filling her in on the family history,
Hannah? 1 hope you haven't forgotten the bit about
my grandfather jumping off the cliff.'

Hannah did not look too perturbed. 'Your grand-

father did not jump off the cliff, Jake, as well you
know. It was an accident, a terrible accident. Your
grandmother just chose to blame your mother for
it.'

Jake used his crutches to ease himself into a more

comfortable position against the door frame. 'And
why should 1 complain?' he inquired sardonica11y.
'Without the old man's death, the Sea House might
never have been mine.'

Hannah gave him a reproving look, and then,

turning on the gri11, she began spreading slices of
bacon across the pan. 'So how are you feeling this
morning?' she asked, evidently deciding not to get
into an argument with him, and Jake lifted one
shoulder in a careless gesture.

'As we11 as can be expected,' he remarked. 'Isn't

that what they say?' He paused and cast a mocking
glance in Lani's direction. 'You've met my unex-
pected house guest?'

'We introduced ourselves,' said Hannah drily.

'She carne to the house yesterday afternoon looking
for you.'

'And you told her where 1 was, of course,' put in

Jake caustica11y. '1 wondered about that.'

'1 would have remembered,' exclaimed Lani de-

fensively. '1 just thought-that is-your grand-
mother-'

'You thought the old lady might be caring for me,

is that right?' Jake's lips curled scornfu11y. 'Oh,
Hannah, she doesn't know old Amelia very well,
does she?'

Hannah put the bacon to gri11 and began putting

ready-sliced bread into the toaster. 'Where will you
have this?' she asked, with a certain amount of
impatience. 'In here, as usual, or sha11 I set the table
in the other room?'

Jake arched his brows at Lani and she looked

abruptly away from his mocking gaze. 'Oh, in here,
please,' she said, going to the drawer where she
knew the knives and forks were kept. 'And-just
toast for me. I'm not very hungry.'

'Nor am 1,' said Jake, leaving the door to make his

way to a chair at the table. 'Don't bother with the
eggs, Hannah. 1'11 just have a bacon sandwich.'

'You should have a proper breakfast,' protested

the woman, setting some cornflakes and a jug of
creamy Cornish milk on the table. But Jake merely
poured himself a glass of orange juice from a carton
Hannah had also provided, and Lani saw the
woman' s expression mirror her concern.

'How long is Miss St John staying?' Hannah

asked, when the coffee was ready and she could set
the percolator on the table, and Jake lifted one dark
eyebrow.
'You' d better ask her,' he remarked, helping him-
self to so me of the strong aromatic liquid. '1 didn't
invite her.'

Lani coloured. 'I ... a few days,' she answered

awkwardly, avoiding his provoking glance. 'If
there's anything I can do while I'm here, please te11
me. I don't want to be a nuisance.'

'Hah!'

Jake's sardonic ejaculation was indicative of his

reaction to this, but Hannah ignored it. 'I'm sure
we'l1 work something out,' she replied comfortably.
'Now-l'l1 go and make the bed and tidy round. If
there' s anything else you want, just give me a
ca11.'

With Hannah's departure, Lani was made in-

tensely aware of Jake's eyes upon her, and steeling
her features, she turned to look at him. 'She's nice,'
she said, deliberately bringing Hannah's name into
the conversation. 'Does she have any children of
herown?'

. 'No.' Jake' s .response .was clipped. 'She' s not mar-

ried. And while that might not mean a lot today, it
used to, when she was young.'

Lani nodded. 'Has . . . has she worked for your

grandmother for long?'

'Thirty years, I guess.' Jake shrugged. 'She carne

first as maid to my mother, and stayed on to become
my grandmother's housekeeper.'

'1 see.' Lani cradled her coffee cup between her

two palms and cast about desperately for something
else to say. '1 suppose that's how she knows the
family so we11.'

'The family history, you mean,' corrected Jake

drily. 'Are you satisfied now you know the whole
story?'

Lani sighed. 'Do you mind my knowing?'

'Why should I mind?' Jake regarded her

broodingly. 'Maybe discovering I'm the son of a
gipsy will convince you you're wasting your time
here.'

Lani bent her head. 'We can't help who our

fathers are.' She shrugged, not wanting to think
about her own father, and added, 'I always thought
there was something romantic about living in a
caravan and travelling from place to place.'

Jake groaned. 'We11, I hate to disappoint you, but

there's not. It wasn't like that.' He paused, and then
went on. 'My father worked for a travelling circus
and fair. There s nothing romantic about that. Most-
ly, 1 remember being hauled out of bed to help pull
down the tent late at night; and my fingers feeling
like chips of ice and my breath frosting in the air. 1
remember us always being short of food and
money, and being squashed together in one small
caravan-my mother, my father, his mother and
me.'

Lani gazed at him. 'How old were you when you

carne to live here?'

Jake gave her a considering look. 'Ten. Why?'

'1 just wondered.' She hesitated. 'Did your father

come, too?'

'No.' Jake shook his head. 'Just my mother and

me.'

Lani bit her lip. 'But-she's dead now.'

'She died when 1 was seventeen,' said Jake dis-

passionately. '1 don't think she ever got over losing
my father. He threw her out, you see. There was
another woman involved.' His lips twisted. '1 re-
member once seeing them together. 1 didn't under-
stand what was going on, but 1 remember my
mother crying, and 1 remember her losing the baby
she was carrying.'

'She was pregnant?'

'For the umpteenth time,' agreed Jake flatly. 'For-

tunately, 1 was the only child she carried to full
termo Although, if there had be en others, my father
might not have behaved as he did.'

'Or maybe he would.' Lani pressed her lips

together. 'So your mother carne home.'

'Not home, no. Here,' said Jake, glancing about

him. 'This was our home for seven years, until her
health failed her, and the doctors discovered she
should never have attempted to have more chil-
dren. She had a blood deficiency, you see, and
pregnancy aggravated the condition. She was only
thirty-nine when she died.'

'1'm sorry.'

'Yes. So was l.' Jake shrugged. '1 guess 1 felt

responsible. '

. 'But it wasn't your fault. What happened was

inevitable. She paused. 'Did you see your father
again?'

'No.' Jake shook his head. 'My grandmother-

my father's mother, that is-sent word that he had
been killed when one of the metal props co11apsed
when they were erecting the tent, but 1 didn't hear
about it until 1 got back to England three months
ago.' He gazed unseeingly across the room. '1 didn't
even feel anything. It had been too long. 1 would
have gone to his funeral, if 1 had known but-' He
lifted his shoulders. 'It was too late.' '

Lani found there was nothing she could say, and

they were still sitting there in silence when Hannah
returned. As if sensing an atmosphere between
them, she quickly cleared the table and washed the
dishes, and Lani got up at once to help her dry
them.

'I-er-I'm going into Helston this afternoon '

Hannah remarked, when she was finished, looking
expectantly at Jake. 'Was there anything special you
wanted?'

'1 don't. think so,' he said, hooking his crutches

beneath his arms and getting to his feet. '1'11 see you
tomorrow, Hannah. The usual time.'

Hannah hesitated. 'You did say something about

some embrocation,. when 1 was here yesterday,' she
ventured, and Lani heard Jake' s impatient intake of
breath.

'It doesn't matter,' he answered, his voice full of

meaning, and Hannah gave a resigned shrug of her
shoulders as she went to get her coat.

Lani looked after her, and then turned back to

Jake. 'Get it,' she said. 'Don't let my being here stop
you. 1'11 even help you use it, if you'l1 let me-'
'Forget it!' Jake cut her off and fo11owed Hannah
through to the living room, and Lani shook her
head unhappily as she went after them.
Hannah hesitated when she reached the outer
door. 'There's plenty of food,' she said, 'and 1'11
fetch some fresh bread in the morning.' She paused,
looking at Jake again. 'Do you want me to te11 your
grandmother Miss St John is staying here?'

'1 don't want you to te11 my grandmother any-

thing,' replied Jake tersely, reaching past her to
open the door. 'Goodbye, Hannah. Take care.'

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LANI was kneeling on the window seat looking out

over the vast expanse of ocean when Jake closed the
door and carne slowly back to the hearth. But she
couldn't resist turning to look at him, aware of the
raw uncertainty of his mood.

'You realise Hannah will talk, don' t you?' he said,

halting in the middle of the floor. 'Did you te11 her
where you slept?'

'1 imagine she saw for herself,' said Lani levelly,

nodding to where her suitcase was propped behind
the sofa. 'She even helped me to fold the quilt and
she showed me how to stow it away.'

Jake shook his head, and with a gesture of impa-

tience, he lowered himself on to one of the sofas.
'And what do you propose to do while you're here?'
he exc1aimed. 'You'll be bored out of your mind.'

'Are you?'

He sighed. '1 sleep a 1ot.'

'1'11 sleep a lot, too.'

He rested his head against the back of the sofa.

'Lani-'

'Don't.' She caught her upper lip between her

teeth. 'Please, 1 won't get in your way, 1 promise.'

'And when your father finds out where you

are?'

'My father knows where 1 am,' said Lani uneven-

ly. 'I--er-I'll make some more coffee. You relax. 1
won't be long.'

But when she carne back, he was asleep, and her

heart turned in her breast at his unexpected vulner-
ability. With trembling fingers, she gathered up the
rug she had brought from her car and draped it over
him, taking care not to disturb him. Then, tiptoeing
out again, she drank her coffee alone in the kitchen.

Jake was still sleeping later when she went back to

check on him. On impulse, she slipped on her boots
and sheepskin jacket, and leaving the house by the
back door, she went to get some air. The sun was
warm on her shoulders, and the salt-laden atmos-
phere was invigorating .. The cries of the seagulls
wheeling overhead and the muted roar of the surf
added to her mood of sudden optimism, and hold-
ing on to the iron structure, she slowly descended
the c1iff face.

She discovered a steep path, evidently used at

one time to reach the cove below, and although she
was not normally so impetuous, she managed to
scramble down it. Holding on to c1umps of weed
growing out of the rock to slow her progress, she
eventually reached the gravelled base of the c1iff
and realised with some surprise that in summer one
could probably swim from here. From above, the
tiny shelf of land cut into the c1iff base was hidden,
and only the rocks were visible, harsh and menac-
ing.

She glanced up at the Sea House, rearing above

her. Had Jake used this path as a boy, she won-
dered. Had he c1ambered down the c1iff looking for
birds' eggs, or swum from this cove in hot weather?
She could imagine him as a boy, thin and dark and
sun-tanned, springing over the rocks with sure-
footed grace, stripping off his clothes to swim in the
wild ocean, and emerging again to lie he re in the
sun.

She was still standing there, lost in thought,

when she heard a cry. At first, she thought it was
another gull, but the sound seemed too human for
that, and when it was repeated, she turned to look
up the c1iff path.

'Lani!'

The voice carne to her indistinctly on the wind,

and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of
Jake, holding on to one of the iron supports high
above her.

'Lani!'

He called her name again, and realising he hadn't

seen her, she quickly scrambled up the path again
towards him. Unlike her, he was not wearing a coat,
only a shirt and the corded pants and waistcoat he
had worn in the house, and although the air was
mild, it was by no means warm enough to be out
without adequate protection.

'I'm here,' she called, amazed at the speed with

which she negotiated the path. 'What are you doing
out here? You'll get frozen.'

Iake's mouth tightened. 'And what the hell are

you doing?' he snapped, as she reached him.
'Climbing about the c1iffs like a mountain goat!
God-I thought you'd fallen!'

'You cared?' she asked, unable to resist the taunt,

and he turned away.

'Only to the extent that I don't want another

death on my conscience,' he retorted harshly.
'Damn!' this as he jarred his injured knee. '1 should
have realised l' d have been useless to help anyway.'

Lani sighed, hurrying to take his arm, but he

shrugged her away .. '1 can manage,'. he declared,
hauling himself up with the aid of the iron supports
and preceding her into the kitchen where his
crutches were propped by the door. .
Lani followed him inside, and after closing the
door she offered an apologetic glance. 'I'm sorry,'
she said. '1 thought you were asleep.' .

Jake lowered himself on to one of the kitchen

chairs. '1 should have warned you,' he said dourly.
'That path is dangerous. It' s years since anyone
used it.'

Lani shrugged. '1 took care.'

'If there'd been any subsidence, it wouldn't have

mattered how much care you took,' retorted Jake
grimly. 'As soon as I realised where you'd gone, I
carne after you. Not very effectively, as it turned
out.'

Lani unfastened her coat. 'I'm grateful, anyway.'

'Why? For proving once again how helpless I
am?' His lips twisted. 'Let's face it, if you had been
lying unconscious at the foot of the cliff, there was
nothing I could do about it.'

Lani sighed. 'But I wasn't. Nothing happened.'

She tossed her coat on to a chair. 'It's lunchtime.
What would you like to eat?' ..

'Beans on toast,' said Jake at once, pulling himself

to his feet. 'And I can make it. You go and take it
easy. Opening a tin should not prove too arduous.'

Lani shook her head, but there was nothing she

could do to change his mind. Despite the fact that
after his laborious traverse of the cliff he looked
exhausted, his will was inviolable, and shaking her
head, she left him to his task.

In fact, the simple meal was not untasty, and

when Jake summoned her to the table, she found
she enjoyed her lunch. Perhaps the burst of sea air
had given her an appetite. Whatever it was, she ate
more enthusiastically than she had done for weeks.

Afterwards, they retired to the living room again,

and deciding she was not going to a110w Jake to
lapse into a su11en silence, Lani approached -the
piano. It was the one thing she could think of likely
to evoke any strong reaction, and she was not
disappointed when Jake said harshly, 'What are
you doing?'

'I'm just Iooking,' Lani replied casua11y, opening

the lid and running her fingers over the keys. In
spite of its neglect, the notes did not sound too
badly out of tune, and she thought what a pity it
was that Jake was making no attempt to play again.
After a11, he had said his hands were gaining in
strength, and remembering how he had dragged
himself outside after her without his crutches, she
was convinced he could do it.

'Leave it!' he said now, his jaw hardening at her

unsubtle invitation, and Lani seated herself upon
the stool and cupped her chin in her hand.

'Why?' she asked. 'Why shouldn't I look at it?

You won't.'

'No, that's right, I won't,' he agreed flatly. 'And

your amateur psychology won' t work, either. If you
imagine that by staying here you'll somehow con-
vince me that 1'11 play again, you're mistaken. It's a
simple fact of life that muscles need constant exer-
cise to sustain their elasticity.'

'1 realise that.' Lani was defensive. 'I'm not saying

you could sit down and playa Chopin sonata right
off. But with time and exercise-'

'No!'

'Why not?'

'I've just explained to you.'

'You've explained nothing. Other people who

... who have accidents start again-'

'Concert pianists?' he inquired sceptica11y, and

she flushed.
'1 don't believe you can't play. Your hands were
strong enough to hold on to the metal support out
there.'

'Oh, Lani! It's not a question of strength.'

"Then what is it a question of?'

Jake sighed. '1 used to practise for hours every day-'

'How many hours?'

'Eight, mostly.'

'Eight!' 5he was astonished.

'Lani, playing the piano is not like-we11, not like

being a boxer, or an athlete. It's not just a question
of getting back into condition. My hands-' He
looked down at them half-angrily. 'My hands don't
feel the same. They're ... clumsy, stiff! God, 1
doubt if 1 could play chopsticks the way they feel
right now.'

'But surely. that's why you should start using them.'

'No.'

'What do you mean, no?'

'1 mean, 1 don't want to play the piano any more.'

'That' s not true-'

'A11 right.' His mouth tightened. '1'11 rephrase
that. 1 don't want to play the kind of piano I'm going
to be capable of playing.'

'Oh, Jake! How do you know what you're capable of?'

His eyes smouldered angrily. '1 know!'

Lam shook her head. '1 never thought you were a

defeatist.'

'A defeatist!' He gazed at her in shocked disbelief,

and Lani shifted a little uncomfortably beneath that
burning appraisal.

'We11, a coward, then,' she mumbled, the one no

better than the other, and with a muffled impreca-
tion, Jake hauled himself to his feet. Ignoring his
crutches, he dragged himself across the floor to her
side, and she stumbled awkwardly out of the way as
he flung himself down at the piano.

The notes that echoed round the quiet room were

like a death knell to her hopes. It was a cacophony of
sound bearing little resemblance to the prelude she
vaguely recognised it to be, and she held her breath
when Jake brought his bandaged hands down
heavily on the keyboard before slamming the lid
shut.

'5atisfied?' he asked, looking sideways at her,

and she couldn't think of anything to say. 'So,' he
added, dragging himself back to the sofa, 'if that's
the reason you've been hanging on here, to get me
to prove that 1 real1y am washed up, your mission is
accomplished. You can go back to Daddy and tell
him he has nothing more to fear from Jake Pendra-
gon.'

Lani was in the kitchen, trying to decide what to

prepare for the evening meal, when she heard
voices from the other room. One was Jake's-she
would recognise his deep tones anywhere-but the
other was feminine, and unable to deny her curios-
ity, she peeped into the living room. A girl was
seated on the sofa opposite Jake, a pretty girl of
about eighteen Lani guessed, and her stomach con-
tracted painfu11y at the realisation that Jake was
talking quite amicably to her. In fact, as Lani looked
into the room they both laughed, and she felt a
sud den pang as she acknowledged he had not
relaxed so fully with her.
The girl saw her at once, and she sobered abrupt-
ly, getting to her feet and pushing her hands into
the pockets of her tweed jacket. Her action caused
Jake to glance round also, and his expression grew
instantly guarded.

'Oh, Lani,' he said, and she was obliged to come

right into the room. 'You don't know Susan, do
you? She's Hannah's niece. She just carne to see
how l was.'

'He11o.'

Lani endeavoured to be polite, but judging from

Susan's response she needn't have bothered. The
younger girl was barely civil, and turning back to
Jake, she made her farewe11s. '1'11 probably see you
next week,' she said, with a conspiratorial smile.
'When you're not so ... tied up.'

'Fine.' Jake made to get up, but Susan wouldn't

let him.

'You rest easy,' she said, making for the door.

'We don't want you overdoing things, do we?
G'bye.'

Jake nodded, and the girl slipped out of the door

with scarcely a glance in Lani's direction.

Her departure left a ho11ow silence, and realising

the younger girl was probably jealous, Lani tried to
be charitable. 'What a pretty girl, ' she said, walking
round the sofa so Jake could not avoid looking at
her. 'How old is she?'

'Seventeen, I guess.' Jake was offhand, and Lani

could have shaken him for his indifference.

'She's Hannah's niece?'

'1 said so.' He looked up at her in cool inquiry.

'Did you like her?'

Lani shrugged. '1 don't think she liked me.'

'Why shouldn't she?'

Lani sighed. 'You're not that naive.'

'You think she's jealous?'

'Even though she has no reason to be,' agreed

Lam wearily, and unable to withstand his deliberate
baiting, she walked swiftly towards the door.
'Doesn't she?'

The quiet question was barely audible, but she

heard it, and halting, she glanced back at him.
'What do you mean?'

Jake, who. had turned to look at her, now pre-

sented her his back. Nothing, he said, and she did
not have the nerve to confront him again.

. She decided to. make a steak and kidney pie for

dinner, using a tin of meat she had found in the
cupboard. It didn't take long to make the pastry,
and after the pie was m the oven, she went back into
the living room to set the table. Jake was not there,
and she looked about her in surprise. Then, decid-
ing he had probably gone to the bathroom, she did
what she had come for and returned to the kitchen
to check on her baking.

Crossing the narrow hall however, she heard a

sound from upstairs, and she paused in sudden
alarm. It had sounded suspiciously like a groan, and
remembering Jake's exertions earlier, she didn't
hesitate before going to investigate . .
Jake was in his bedroom, sitting on the side of his
bed and he looked up half angrily when Lani
appeared. He had removed his jeans, and the ban-
dages on his hands, and was engrossed in the
process of massaging some liniment into his knee,
and Lani gazed at him helplessly, unable to with-
draw.
'What are you doing?' she exclaimed, looking at
the bottle in his hand. 'Did Hannah come back?
Or-no, it was the girl, wasn't it? 5usan. She
brought the embrocation Hannah mentioned,
didn't she?'

'And if she did?' Jake expelled his breath re-

signedly. 'Okay. So Hannah got the stuff without
my permission. 1 thought 1 might as well, give it a
try. Even if it is just an old wives' remedy.
Lani left the door and carne towards him. 'Can 1
help you?' she asked awkwardly. '1 mean-I have
had some experience with my father. l' m sure you’d
find it easier.'
'I'm sure 1 would, too.' Jake hesitated a moment,
and then held the bottle out towards her. 'Why not?
Since you insist on acting the martyr.' .

Lani took the bottle and knelt down before him,

trying to concentrate on the task in hand. Now that
she was closer, she could see the scars where the
surgeon had operated on his knee, and the other
visible scars the crash had left. Compared to the
brownness of his skin, they stood out in harsh
relief and she could imagine the pain he must have
suffered before the bones knitted together.

The embrocation did not have an unpleasant

smell, and Lani poured a little into her palm before
applying it to his leg. Then, working rhythmically,
she massaged the liquid into his knee, taking care
not to bear down too heavily and cause him more
pain than was necessary. After a while, the tautness
beneath her fingers grew less, and he relaxed back
on his hands, allowing her to continue unsuper-
vised. Indeed, when Lani glanced up at him, she
saw he had closed his eyes, and she knew an
overwhelming sense of pride that he should have
confidence in her.

Almost involuntarily, her hands slowed, smooth-

ing the skin over the bones with unknowing sen-
sitivity. As her eyes moved up over the strong
sinews of his thighs to the flat muscles of his sto-
mach, her feelings took over, and without her being
aware of it, her fingers betrayed the turbulent emo-
tions stirring inside her.

Immediately Jake's eyes flicked open, and she

drew back at once, her face colouring at the guilty
remembrance of her thoughts. She hoped he
couldn't read her mind as she quickly screwed the
cap back on the bottle and wiped her hands on a
tissue. After what had happened that morning, she
had no intention of inciting his unwilling passion,
and licking her dry lips, she got unsteadily to her
feet.

'Does that feel better?' she asked, trying to be-

have naturally, and Jake sat up.

'1 think it does,' he said, after a moment. 'Thanks.

I'm grateful. You did a good job.'

'It was nothing.' Lani shrugged her shoulders.

'I-er-I've made a pie for dinner. You will have
some, won't you?'

'How could I refuse?' Jake looked up at her with a

faintly mocking expression. 'If you'll just give me
time to put my trousers on-'
'Do you--oh, no.' She flushed anew. 'You can
manage, can't you?'

'1 think I'm going to have to,' replied Jake rueful-

ly. 'Go serve your pie. 1'11 be down in a little while.'

Dinner was quite a pleasant meal. Jake seemed to

put himself out to be polite, and the flaky pie and its
accompanying vegetables carne m for some compli-
ments. Lani welcomed his lack of aggression, but
she couldn't help wishing it was not just because of
the massage, and she suspected that by the next
morning he' d have resumed hostilities.

During the evening, they played Scrabble, Jake

surprising her by producing the board from the
cabinet in the corner. 'My mother and I used to play
years ago,' he confessed, managing to draw the
heavy curtains across the windows by supporting
himself against the window seat. He carne back to
sit opposite her. 'Isn't this cosy?' His lips twisted.
'Who could ask for anything more?'

Apart from the occasional comment of this kind,

it was an enjoyable evening. Taken at its face value,
Jake's attitude was one of casual amiability, and
although Lani found him looking at her oddly
sometimes, on the whole he behaved faultlessly
towards her. He was an amusing companion, but
she had known that already, and she couldn't help
the occasional pang when she reflected what they
had lost.

About ten o'clock, Jake said he was going to bed,

and Lani watched him leave the room with some
regret. Although it had been a long day, and she
was tired, she had not wanted the evening to end,
and she got undressed with a feeling of anti-c1imax.

Jake had shown her how to pu11 out the sofa so

that it uncoiled into a double bed, and she found
Hannah had put out fresh sheets and pillow cases to
compliment the quilt she had used the night before.
Indeed, the bed was remarkably comfortable once
she was snuggled beneath the covers, and certainly
an improvement on the previous night's arrange-
ment.

She fe11 asleep immediately, lu11ed by the flicker-

ing light of the dying fire, and awakened to find
herself standing on the c1iff path outside. It was
morning, and an icy wind was blowing, howling
about the exposed eaves of the Sea House, and
chilling her to the core. She was only wearing her
pyjamas, she saw with dismay, and they offered no
protection to the elements. She was cold, and she
was frightened, disoriented by her surroundings,
and tota11y incapable of working out why she was
there.

Turning back, she tried to enter the house by the

door she had used the previous morning, but it was
locked. The key was turned against her, and when
she groped her way to the window and looked into
the kitchen, she saw Jake and Hannah's niece,
Susan, sitting at the table, laughing together. They
looked up and saw her at the window, but although
she waved and knocked at the glass, they made no
attempt to open the door. They didn't seem to care
that she was locked outside and freezing to death.
They just talked and laughed together, completely
ignoring her.

Realising she had to get indoors somehow, Lani

scrambled round the side of the building. But there
was no way of reaching the other door without
climbing down the cliff, and her hands were already
sore and bleeding.
Gasping for breath, she clutched at the iron sup-
port nearest to her, and began the precarious climb
down the cliff. Her feet, in the fluffy mules, offered
no purchase on the slippery slope, and her cold
hands were losing their grip. Sobbing desperately,
she made one last attempt to save herself. but
already she could see the cauldron of water far
below her, and the jagged pointed rocks, just wait-
ing for their victim. Like a leaf from the tree she was
falling, falling, and al though she ca11ed Jake' s name,
she had no hope of rescue . . .
'Lanil Lani, wake up! It's a11 right, do you hear me?
You're safe. Safe! Lani, come on-I'm here. Beside
you. Don't fight me.'

She awakened to a room lit by one softly-shaded

lamp, to the awareness of moistness at the nape of

her neck. and a comforting hand pushed into the
tumbled softness of her hair. She was cradled
against a warm chest, where fine whorls of hair,
freed by the opening of silk lapels. invaded her nose
and mouth, and her panic gave way to weak ex-
haustion as she looked up into Jake's anxious face.

'1-1-'

'You were dreaming,' he said, interrupting her

stammered attempt at speech. '1 heard you cry out.
Are you a11 right now?'
'1 ... think so.' Lani moved her head in a gesture
of acknowledgment. '1 remember now. 1 was out-
side, on the cliff path. 1-1 slipped.'
'That's what comes of going in for these danger-
ous expeditions,' remarked Jake softly, smoothing
damp stands of hair back from her forehead, and
she realised he was not wearing the bandages.
What happened? Did 1 push you off the cliff? The
way you were fighting me just now, you'd have
thought 1 was the devil incarnate!'

Lani's lips parted. 'I'm sorry. Did 1 hurt you?'

1’11 survive, he responded drily. '1 guess that

game of Scrabble was too stimulating for you. The
excitement, you know. It can do strange things to
people.'

Lani offered a tremulous smile. 'You' re very good

at this sort of thing, aren't you?' she murmured.
Have you had a lot of experience?'

'In comforting damsels in distress?' He grinned

wryly. 'Not nearly as much as I'd like. We Knights
of the Bar Sinister aren't ca11ed upon quite so often.'
You re not a Knight of the Bar Sinister,' she
protested, and much to her regret, he lowered her
back against the pillows.

. '1 might as well be,' he retorted, permitting his

fingers to trail down her cheek. 'Now, settle down
like a good girl. It's time you were asleep.'

Lani pressed her lips together. 'Did . . . did 1

wake you up?'

'No.' Jake's response was clipped, and he drew

the lapels of his gold silk robe closer about him
before reaching for his crutches. '1 was reading' he
said, dashing her hopes that thoughts of her might
have kept him awake. 'It's only a little after mid-
night. A long time until morning.'

'Yes.'

Lani propped herself up on her elbows, trying to

appear as composed as he was, but it was difficult
with his thigh wedged firmly against hers, even
though the thickness of the bedclothes separated
them, and the warmth of his body still lingering on
her skin.
'Goodnight then,' he said, grasping the sides of
the bed to lever himself upwards, but before he did
so, he leant towards her. 'Sleep wel1,' he said,
brushing her mouth with his, and Lani, too be-
mused to resist, felt her lips part in eager submis-
sion.

Jake drew back, but not far, his eyes darkening

with sudden emotion. For a moment, he scanned
the tremulous invitation of wide green eyes and a
softly curving mouth, and then his control snap-
ped. With a groan, he turned to her, gathering her
up into his arms with an urgency born of long
denial, and his lips swooped down on hers with
hungry possession.

Lani' s senses swirled in a dizzying vortex as his

hands slid into her hair. His mouth moved over hers
searchingly, sending ripples of fire through her
blood, his tongue tasting the moist sweetness hid-
den within. His kisses were deep, breathtaking,
robbing her of all resistance, creating a melting heat
that threatened to consume her.

When his lips left hers, it was only to seek the

delicate curve of her cheek, his teeth tugging sen-
suously at her earlobe, evoking shivers .of delight.
His hand slid down from her nape to invade the
neckline of her pyjama jacket, disposing of its
fastening and exposing one rose-tipped breast. He
caught his breath as he bent to suckle at its pointed
crest, and Lani moaned as he drew the covers from
her and revealed her lissom form to his hungry
gaze.

'Beautiful,' he groaned, moving on to the bed

beside her, and sliding the jacket from her shoul-
ders. When her arms were freed, her fingers went to
the cord of his robe, and he did not stop her when
she. tugged it .loose. His lean brown body was so
achingly familiar, and her fingers stroked his shoul-
ders eagerly, delighting in his response. Her spine
arched towards him, instinctively inviting his
caress, and Jakes smouldering gaze swept over her
before he captured her mouth again.

When his lips trailed a burning path from her

breast to the elasticated waistband of her pyjama
trousers, she quivered beneath his touch, and when
he tugged the offending scrap of beige silk down
over her hips, she trembled uncontrollably. His lips
followed the progress of his hands, seeking and
finding her most sensitive places, and a cry of
protest broke from her lips at this most intimate
invasion.

'Let me,' he said, lifting his eyes to look at her,

and in their burning depths she found no will to
resist. Her legs parted involuntarily, easing his
exploration, and he probed her honeyed sweetness,

bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

'Oh, Jake,' she groaned, when he sought her

mouth once more, her hands moving over the hair-
roughened skin of his chest to the growth that
arrowed down below his navel, and he shuddered.

'Touch me,' he said, his mouth against her neck,

and she felt his teeth abuse her skin as her unsteady
fingers found his swollen manhood. 'God, 1 want
you,' he muttered, unable to deny himself any
longer, and Lani arched towards him with equal
fervour.

This time there was no pain, only pleasure, a

steadily increasing storm that surged and seethed
inside her, as Jake penetrated the very heart of her
being. She moved with him, inciting him, bringing
them both to a high peak of rapture that finally
exploded and shattered into lingering fragments of
enchantment. She didn 't want to let him go. Even
when he slumped against her, lazily sated and
replete, she nestled closer to him, and ~e wrapped
his arms and legs about her, and sank into a deep
slumber.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IT was the sound of voices that disturbed Lani next

morning.

She carne back to consciousness unwillingly,

gripped by the belief that the delicious weakness
she was experiencing would dissipate as soon as
she opened her eyes. But to her delight, the lan-
guorous feeling did not disappear. On the contrary,
as she shifted in the bed and discovered her own
nakedness, the memory of what had happened the
night before swept over her, and with it a mindless
rapture she was not imagining. Even her skin felt
sensitised, the linen sheet an abrasion to flesh left
bruised by Jake' s lovemaking. But it was a sensuous
abrasion. Almost experimentally, her palms
touched the hardening peak s of her breasts, left
tender from the probing caress of Jake' s tongue, and
as she did so, she felt a corresponding ache between
her thighs.

'-into the kitchen-'

The softly uttered words caused Lani to abandon

her innocent exploration, and rolling into a ball, she
twisted round in the bed. Jake, dressed now in black
jeans and a matching silk shirt, was conducting a
conversation with Hannah in undertones, and the
woman was nodding her head in agreement to
his suggestion that they should go into the other
room.

However, Hannah had noticed her sudden

movement, and drawing Jake's attention to it, she
said, 'I' m sorry. Did we wake you?'

'It's a11 right.' Lani endeavoured to keep beneath

the covers, her eyes darting irresistibly to Jake's
dark face. 'I-er-I should have be en up anyway. I
must have overslept.'

'It's the sea air,' said Hannah comfortably, bust-

ling over to the hearth and starting to rake out the
ashes. 'My, it's not very warm in here, is it? Never
mind, 1'11 soon get the fire going, and then 1'11 make
some tea.'

She disappeared out to the kitchen with the tray

of ashes she had taken from the grate, and Lani
struggled into a sitting position, tucking the quilt
securely beneath her arms. She was overpowering-
ly conscious of Jake's tawny eyes upon her, and she
wondered what he was thinking and how long he
had be en up.

'Is-er-is it a fine morning?' she asked, glancing

towards the windows where someone had half
drawn the curtains, and Jake nodded.

'It's not raining, if that's what you mean,' he

offered shortly, using his crutches to move across
the floor, and she saw to her surprise he had not
replaced the bandages. His hands, the hands which
had given her so much pleasure the night before,
now gripped the lower bars of the crutches, and
although he put very little weight upon them, he no
longer tried to hide them.

'Jake-' she began, putting out her hand towards

him, but he quickly shook his head.
'Not now, Lani,' he said crisply, moving towards
the door. 'I-er-I've put your suitcase up in the
bedroom. As soon as you like, you can get dressed
up there. And there's room in the wardrobe, if you
want to unpack your things.'

Lani gazed at him tremulously. 'You mean-I'm

to sleep upstairs in future?'

'And 1'11 sleep down here,' agreed Jake flatly,

pulling open the door, and she was left to her
uneasy thoughts as he went to find Hannah.

Unable to talk to Jake and discover exactly what

he had meant by his remarks, Lani sprang hastily
out of bed. Then, wrapping the quilt about her
sarong-fashion, she hurried to the door, only to fa11
back awkwardly when Hannah carne bursting
through.

'Oh, I'm sorry, miss,' she exclaimed, exhibiting

her sooty hands. '1 didn't realise you' d be getting up
yet. I was going to bring you a nice cup of tea.'

'That’s a11 right, Hannah.' Lani forced a faint

smile. :I-er-I didn't bring a dressing gown. I'm
just going to put my clothes on.'

Hannah frowned. 'You've got nothing on, have

you, miss?' she exclaimed. 'Good heavens, you
must be freezing on this cold floor. I thought I saw a
nice pair of pyjamas yesterday. I assumed they
belonged to you.'

'They did. They do!' Lani glanced back guiltily

towards the bed. 'I-er-I was hot in the night. I
took them off.'

'Rea11y?' Hannah's response was even, but un-

able to sustain any more of this conversation, Lani
offered another apologetic smile and made good her
escape.

By the time she had washed and brushed her

teeth, and then scuttled upstairs to put on the
corded trousers and sweater she had worn the day
before, Lani felt a little less vulnerable. Jake's
strange behaviour, and Hannah's questions, had
left her feeling distinctly raw, and she deliberately
unpacked her case and put her things away before
going back downstairs.

The huge wardrobe easily accommodated her

coats and dresses, and the skirts and trousers she
had brought. Her underwear slotted into a shirt
rack, set at one side of the hanging rail, and her
suitcase slid under the bed. The room looked exact-
ly as she had found it, except that now her make-up
case resided beside Jake's brushes on the dressing
table.

Picking up one of the brushes, she held it against

her cheek for a moment. The wholesome scent it
emitted owed nothing to any oil or hair-cream.
Jake's hair was free of. any conditioner and lay thick
and smooth against his head. Unlike the hair on the
other parts of his body, she reflected, with a sud-
denly quickening pulse.

'Tea's ready!'

Hannah's call startled her, and quickly putting

the brush back on the dressing table, she went
downstairs again. Jake was in the kitchen too, seat-
ed at the pine kitchen table, but he barely glanced
up as she took the seat beside him and accepted the
steaming beverage Hannah proffered. He seemed
deep in thought, his attention drawn to the circling
patterns in his cup, and Lani reflected that Hannah
probably saw no tangible change m his attitude
towards her.

When breakfast was over, Jake disappeared into

the other room, and Lani, helping Hannah to clear
the table, found the woman's eyes upon her. 'Tell
me,' she. said, 'do you know if Jake used that
embrocation 1 sent him? Susan said she gave it to
him, but he's not mentioned it.'

'Oh, yes.' Lani put the plate aside and made a

thing about folding the tea towel to give herself time
to think. I-er-he put some on before dinner last
night. I don't know if it's done him any good.'

.'It will. If he uses it regularly,' declared Hannah

firmly. 'My old granny used to swear by it for easing
her arthritis, and if he won't have the proper treat-
ment, he' s got to do something to keep the muscles
from seizing up.'

Lani caught her l ower lip between her teeth.

'Why do you think he abandoned the proper treat-
ment?' she asked, unable to prevent the question. '1
mean-well, 1 know he doesn't have much faith in
what they can do for him, but why did he discharge
himself from the hospital?'
Hannah hesitated. '1 thought you might know
that.'

'Me?'

'Yes.' The woman paused. '1 thought at first it

was because your mother had walked out on him
but now I'm not so sure.' ,

'What do you mean?'

'Well-' Hannah shrugged. 'Those pictures they

put in the papers, they didn't tell the whole story,
did they? You know, 1 never really believed Jake
could have fallen for a woman like her. And when
you carne here, asking for him, 1 knew 1 was right.'

Lani flushed. 'I'd never walk out on him.'

'I know that now.' Hannah nodded. 'But he

might not believe it.'

'Why?'

Hannah dried her hands thoughtfully. 'Well, it's

obvious his injuries are going to take some time to
mend. It said in the papers he' d never play the
piano again, and 1 know he's not touched that one
in there since he carne back. 1 dust it, and it s never
been used.'

'He did-touch it yesterday.' Lani bent her head.

'Oh, not willingly,' she added, as Hannah looked
expectantly at her. 'l ... made him do it. I think he
hated me afterwards.'

Hannah shook her head. '1 don't think he hates

you, miss.' .
'Don't you?' Lani knew a momentary lift of her
spirits.

'No.' Hannah was definite. 'I've seen the way he

looks at you. He doesn't hate you. At least, not in
the way you mean.'

'Is there more than one way to hate someone?'

'1 think so.' Hannah considered. 'The hate you're

talking about is the one that most people encounter.
The kind of hate you feel for someone you dislike or
despise. I'm talking about something else, some-
thing more akin to frustration-the desperation
you feel when the thing you want most is out of
reach.'
'But I'm not out of reach.' exclaimed Lani impul-
sively, and Hannah's lips drew down.. .

'Perhaps he thinks you are, she said, colouring

slightly. And then, giving a faintly embarrassed
laugh, she added, 'Heavens, what am, I saying?
You'll think I'm a real old busybody, won t you? It’s
really none of my business. I only meant to say ...
well, you could hurt him, and 1 don't want that to
happen.'

'1 don't want that to happen either' protested

Lani. '1-1 love him.' '

'Do you?' Hannah studied the girl's troubled

features sympathetically for a moment. 'Well,
you'll have to convince him of that, won't you? Be-
cause it was you he ran away from, wasn't it?
Not Clare Austin.'

It was something Lani had not even suspected, and

although she didn't have complete faith in Han-
nah's interpretation of Jake's behaviour, she
couldn't entirely dismiss it from her mind. It might
explain why Jake had refused to see her, but dared
she suppose he had been thinking of her and not
himself ? After all, he had said his attraction to her
was purely physical. How could she believe he
would deny his feelings, when she had been so
candid about hers? She needed to talk to him but
until Hannah's departure she was unable to do so.
Instead, she paced restlessly about the kitchen,
trying to compose the words she was going to use.

Yet, after Hannah had put on her coat and de-

parted, Lani still lingered in the kitchen. Her initial
excitement had given way to a state of uncertainty,
and the idea that Jake might be hiding his real
feelings had no conviction. It was far more likely
that his bitter disappointment at his present disabil-
ities had driven him to escape from the hounding of
the gutter press. He obviously needed time to rest
and recuperate. Hannah was a romantic. She didn't
see things the way they really were. Jake had no
love. for her. He had no love for anyone. Just a
driving ambition, which had temporarily been
quenched.

'What are you doing out here?'

Jake's impatient voice broke into her fretful

thoughts, and she turned abruptly from the win-
dow to gaze unhappily at him. 'I-oh, 1 was just
thinking, that's all,' she offered, pushing her hands
into the back pockets of her Jeans. Dld-er-did
you want some more coffee? I think there s some i n
the percolator. Hannah made quite-'
'1 don't want any coffee.' Jake interrupted her
harshly. 'Believe it or not, but it isn't the panacea for
all ills. Now. I asked you what you were doing. Do I
get a straight answer, or are you going to fob me off
with more lies?'
'1 was not lying.' Lani flushed. '1 was thinking,
honestly. I do have a brain, you know.'
'Oh, I know.' Jake propped his crutches against
the table, and managed to half sit, half lean against
the rim. 'You're a very clever young woman. 1 'd be
the first to admit it.'

'I'm not clever-'

'Talented, then.' .

Lani sighed. '1 was not thinking about myself.'

'Weren't you?' Jake's tawny eyes narrowed.

'Then let me guess: you were thinking about me.'

Lani bent her head. 'We have to talk.'

'What about?' He paused. 'Last night?' .

'Among other things.' Lani glanced up at him.

'Why did you say you were going to sleep down-
stairs in future?'
'Because I am ' he declared shortly. 'If you persist
in staying here after last night, the least I can do is
offer you a proper bed.'
Lani shook her head. 'Do you regret what hap-
pened last night?'

'What do. you think?' Jake heaved a sigh. 'Lani,

don t be naive. You know why it happened. You're
a very desirable lady. I 'd have had to be made of ice
not to appreciate that.'

'Then-'

'But it won't happen again,' he overrode her

forcefully. 'Not because you're any less desirable
today than you were yesterday, but simply because
1 need to keep my self-respect, if nothing else.'

'Your ... self-respect?'

'Yes.' He massaged the back of his neck with
evident impatience. 'Look, 1 don't know how to put
this, but it wouldn't be fair to-to use you. And
that s what 1 would be doing-using you to satisfy
my own needs, my own lusts--'

'No-'

.'Yes.' He was adamant. 'I'm feeling pretty low

right now, and 1 can't deny it's a temptation to take
advantage of your-your generosity.'

'It' s not generosity!' Lani brought her hands out

of her pockets to ball in frustration at her sides. '1
love you, Jake, you know 1 do. Why won't you
accept my feelings for what they are?'

'Because you don't know what you're saying.' he

snapped savagely. 'You've got so me romantic no-
tion of what our relationship could be and you
won't listen to reason!'

'What's reasonable about what you're saying?'

Lani gazed at him tremulously. '1 don't believe-I
don't believe you could do what you did last night,
without-without there being any feeling on your
side.'

'You're wrong-: Jake shook his head, his jaw hard

and uncompromising. For Christ's sake, Lani, a
man doesn't need to feel anything for a woman to
have sex with her!'

'And that's a11 it was?' Lani's voice shook.

'As far as l' m concerned, yes.'

'1 don't believe you.'

'You're going to have to.'

Lani shook her head. '1 won't. 1 won't.'

"Then you're going to get hurt.'

Lani sniffed, the prick of tears making her eyes

smart. 'Before ... before the crash ... '

Jake closed his eyes. '1 don't want to talk about

before the crash.'

'Why not?'
'Because it's not relevant.' He opened his eyes
again. 'It's now that matters. Here and now. And 1
don't intend to jeopardise my immortal soul by
taking advantage of a silly little virgin 1 shouldn't
have violated in the first place!'

Lani caught her breath. 'You-you brute!'

'Exactly. That' s what 1 am. After all, it' s not as if

there aren't plenty of available women around
to satisfy my baser instincts, should the need
arise.'

'Like Hannah's niece, 1 suppose,' cried Lani

bitterly, and Jake inclined his head.

'At least Susan would know the score,' he

essayed crue11y, and Lani knew she couldn't take
any more. If she stayed here a moment longer, she
would burst into tears and humiliate herself com-
pletely, and clamping her teeth together, she
started towards the door.

She didn't reach it. As she brushed past Jake,

with her head down and her breath coming in
shallow gasps, his own constraint snapped, and
with an anguished sound, he caught her forearm
staying her blind progress.
'It's not true,' he said, between his teeth as she
made a frantic effort to free herself. 'God help me, 1
can t go on pretending I don't care. I was lying. I
wanted to make love to you. I want to make love to
you now. But that doesn't mean 1'11 do it. It simply
means I'm not the bastard I wanted you to think.'

'Jake-'

Lani stopped struggling and stared at him with

tear-wet eyes, and his lips twisted mockingly as he
met her tremulous gaze. 'Ironic, isn't it?' he said,
arching one dark brow. '1 thought I knew all the
answers. It seems like I was wrong.'

Lani s forehead furrowed. 'You mean ... you do

love me?' she breathed softly, touching his cheek,
but he f1inched away from her gentle caress.

'Love!' he said tautly. 'What is love? I don't think 1

know the meaning of the word. I only know how
you make me feel, how you twist my emotions, so
that hurting you hurts me more.' He groaned, and
pulled her between his legs, turning his mouth
against her neck. 'But that's the problem, isn't it?
Knowing I should send you away, and finding a
way to do it. '

. Lani caught her breath, drawing back to look at

him incredulously. 'What do you mean? 1 don't
want to go away.'

'Not now,' said Jake steadily. 'Not today. Not this

week. Maybe not even this month. But sooner or
later, you will, and that's why this can't go on.'

'Jake-'

'No, listen to me.' He drew an uneven breath.

What we have is good, 1 know, but that doesn't
mean you can' t have the same with someone else-'

'No!'
'Yes.' Jake sighed. 'Lani, 1 don't want to hurt you.
1 don't want to hurt either of us, but it would be
easier for both of us if we ended it now.

Lani held up her head. 'You don't want me then.'

'For Christ's sake!' Jake stared at her frustratedly

for a moment, and then he grasped a handful of her
hair. forcing her head to his. His lips ground into
hers with savage intensity, the taut strength of his
body imprinted on hers as he made no attempt to
hide his arousal. His tongue forced its way between
her teeth, exploring the parted sweetness .of her
mouth, and Lani's bones melted beneath his pas-
sionate assault. His hands caressed her urgently, so
that her breasts surged against the thin wool of her
sweater, and when his fingers probed the inner
curve of her thigh, her limbs grew weak and trem-
Bly.

'Does that answer your question?' he demanded

at length, thrusting her away from him, and her
eyes lowered instinctively to the taut cloth of his
trousers. 'Yes. 1 want you. But it won't work. 1 have
no career, no job, no prospects! Go find yourself
some wealthy businessman, Lani. Someone who
isn't crippled! Someone you can respect! '

He left her then, dragging himself out of the room

on his crutches, and presently she heard him
mounting the stairs. She knew he was disturbed
and angry as much with himself for his lack of
control as with her for causing it, and she wanted to
go after him and make him take back his words, but
she couldn't. He was determined to drive a wedge
between them, to create a situation where she
would be compelled to leave him, to force her to the
conclusion that he was simply not worth her efforts.

Fifteen minutes later she was seated in the Capri

fishing in her handbag for the car keys. It had been
an impulsive decision to leave the house for a while,
to get completely away on her own, and try to come
to terms with Jake' s state of mind. She needed time
to cal m her own churning emotions, to think ob-
jectively, and to determine what she was going to
do.

Emotionally, there was no decision to be made.

She loved Jake, and she wanted to stay with him.
She didn't care what he did or where they lived, so
long as they were together. But in practical terms it
was not so simple.

She could not go on living here, being a drain on

his resources, without contributing anything. Yet
she could hardly offer to pay board and lodging
when Jake wanted her to leave. Effectively, he was
limiting the length of time she could stay at the Sea
House, and her thoughts were in a turmoil as she
drove away from Tremorna Point.

She took the road that led inland, away from the
sea, seeking the quiet stretches of moorland that
offered the peace and tranquillity she needed. With
only the birds for company, she drove over the
downs and parked for a while in a lonely spot
overlooking a natural sanctuary. There was some-
thing soothing about watching the ducks and wild
geese that flew in to feed, and her own problems
receded as her brain ceased to race. Something
would turn up, she told herself fiercely. Somehow,
some way, Jake must be made to believe in himself
again. And until that happened, she had to see it
through. .

When she finally turned back towards Helston, it

was late afternoon. She had lingered longer than
she intended, and she realised with a pang she had
had nothing to eat or drink since early that morn-
ing. She wondered if Jake had missed her, and
whether he understood what had driven her
away. Or had he been relieved that she had gone
out for a few hours, to escape her disrupting
presence?
A dampness was invading the air as she drove up
Mrs Worth's drive and circled the house to park
where she had parked before. Getting out of the ear
and locking it, she reflected that it could probably
be more comfortably accommodated in one of the
garages that flanked the stable block, but that
would mean contacting Jake's grandmother, and
she had no desire to do that.

However, as she turned the corner of the house,

she carne up short at the sight of Hannah, hovering
on the porch. The housekeeper waved her arm
agitatedly, bidding the girl to approach, and Lani
looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and
thrust her hands into her pockets as she made the
necessary de tour.

'Is something wrong?' she asked, when she was

close enough for Hannah to hear her, and the
sudden apprehension that gripped her made her
glance half-fearfully towards the cliff.

Bu t Hannah merely shook her head, her accom-

panying gesture soothing any fears Lani might be
nurturing about Jake, and said conspiratorially,
'Mrs Worth wants to see you.'

'Me?' Lani gazed at Hannah blankly. 'But why?

How? I didn't know she knew 1 was here.'

'She saw you. This morning,' said Hannah, grim-

aa~g. '1 suppose she heard your car. She can be
quite perceptive, if. she's a mind for it. Anyway,
you d better come in. She doesn't like to be kept
waiting.'

.'I'll bet she doesn't,' said Lani drily, and then

with a shrug, she complied. 'Do you know why she
wants to see me? I mean-it's not as if I know the
woman, Apart from two encounters, which were
hardly polite.'

Hannah closed the door behind them, and bade

Lani follow her up the stairs. '1 shouldn't expect too
much of this visit either, she advised in an under-
tone. 'Mrs Worth is not known for her philan-
thropy, and I suspect what she really wants to do is
find out who you are and why you're here.'

Lani sighed. 'Do I have to tell her?'

'Well, I've had to admit that you're staying with

Jake,' said Hannah uncomfortably. '1 shouldn't let
her worry you. She does have Jake's interests at
heart.'

Lani was shown into the same bedroom she had

visited years before with her father. Indeed, the
room even looked the same, with its collection of
tables and chairs and bric-a-brac, and there was the
same scent of decay in the air.

However, this time Mrs Worth was not in the

huge bed. She was seated on a low sofa, though she
was still wearing her high-necked nightgown, with
a man 's velvet-trimmed dressing gown wrapped
about her scrawny form. What hair she had was
almost obscured by a frilly cotton bonnet, but wisps
stuck out here and there, almost as white as the
bonnet itself.

'Miss St John, Mrs Worth,' said Hannah, usher-

ing the girl into the room, and Lani advanced reluc-
tantly to stand before that imperious little figure.

'You may leave us, Hannah,' declared the old

lady dismissingly, when the housekeeper seemed
disposed to linger, and the door closed behind her
with a decided click. 'Sit down, miss, sit down,'
she said gesturing towards an upright chair op-
posite, which had a faded Regency stripe, and
Lani subsided cautiously, determined not to be
intimidated.

'So, ' 1 Mrs Worth said consideringly, surveying the

girl with a practised eye, 'you're living with my
grandson, are you?'

Lani moistened her dry lips. I’m. . . staying with

him,' she amended evenly.

'You're not his mistress then?'

Lani gasped. 'I don't see that that' s any concern of

yours, Mrs Worth.'

'Don' t you?' The old woman arched her eye-

brows. 'Hoity-toity, are we? Well, let me tell you,
anything to do with my grandson is my business!'

'I'd never have guessed.' Lani made the retort

without consideration, and then bent her head im-
patiently. The old woman was trying to rile her, and
she was falling for the bait. She had to keep her
temper if she wanted to keep her self-respect.
'You think 1 neglect him, don't you?' Mrs Worth
suggested crisply. 'Oh, don't bother to answer that,
1 can see you do. But don't imagine that because he
takes you to his bed, you automatically gain the
right to criticise his family.'

Lani .took a deep breath. 'I never thought any

such thing.'

'No? But you don't like me, do you, Miss St john?

You needn't deny it. I'm very good at reading
characters. '

Lani shook her head. 'I'm sure you didn't bring

me here to discuss my opinion of you, Mrs Worth. '

'No. ' Mrs Worth paused. 'No you're right 1

dldn't. But it helps to know where one stands,
doesn 't it? It s obvious you're harbouring resent-
ment.'

Lani expelled her breath disbelievingly. 'Mrs

Worth, the only two occasions we have spoken
together, you have been ... well, less than polite. 1
don t see how you can blame me for my attitude,
when you deliberately misled me about Jake's
whereabouts.'

'Two occasions?'

'I told you. 1 came here once before with my

father.'

'Oh, yes. Yes, 1 remember. Your father is my

solicitor, isn't he? Well, you couldn't expect me to
discuss private affairs in the company of a child.'

'It wasn’t what you said, it was the way that you
said it, said Lani flatly. 'Anyway, that's not im-
portant now. Why did you ask to see me.'

Presently, presently.' Mrs Worth refused to be

Hurried. 'There's no especial rush, is there? You're
not going anywhere, are you?'

Lani compressed her lips. 'That depends '

'Depends? Depends on what?'

'That's between Jake and me, Mrs Worth.'

The old woman's brows drew together. 'You're
not planning on walking out on him, are you?'

'No.' Lani gazed at her indignantly. '1 wouldn't

do that. I wouldn't hurt anyone I-I said I loved'

'Unlike your mother, one presumes, ' remarked

Mrs Worth tartly, disposing once for all of the
myth that she did not know Lani 's real identity.
'1 suppose Jake has told you of my daughter 's mis-
fortunes?'

'He told me. Yes.'

'And did he also tell you that when Elizabeth

died, 1 offered him a home here-in this house-
and he rejected it?'
'No. But it doesn't surprise me that he rejected it,
said Lani quietly. 'Mrs Worth-'
'Have you never made a mistake, Miss St. John?
Have you never done something you ve lived to
regret? 1 admit. 1 did treat my daughter badly, but
she treated us badly too, and my husband did not
get over it. He fell from the cliffs, you know. Oh,
some people said he jumped, but it wasn't so. There
was a post-mortem, you see, and it was discovered
he had had a stroke just before he fell. 1'm afraid 1
did blame Elizabeth then.'

Lani shifted a little uncomfortably. '1 really don't

think this has anything to do with me, Mrs Worth.'

'If you're in love with Jake, it should.' The old

woman leaned towards her. 'Tell me about him. Tell
me about my grandson. How is he managing? He 's
such a frustrating man. He won t accept my help. '

'Have you offered it?' Lani stared at her in sur-

prise. ..
'1 shouldn't have to,' retorted Mrs Worth irri-
tably. Tm his grandmother, aren't I? He should
know he has only to come to me- '
'And you should know he'll never do that, said
Lani forcefully. 'Whatever happens, however he
fares, he'll never ask you for assistance.' .

Mrs Worth drew back. 'Why not?'

'Would you?' Lani tilted her head. 'Would you

ask him for help?'

'It's different for me. I'm an old woman-'

'He's your grandson, Mrs Worth. Regrettably,
there are resemblances.'

The old woman caught her breath. 'You don't

care what you say to me, do you?'

Lani bent her head. 'I'm only telling the truth.'

'And you do care about my grandson?'

'I've said so.'

'Does he care about you?'

Lani looked up. '1 think so.'

'You're not sure?'

Lani shook her head. 'It's not the same for

him ... '

'What do you mean?'

'Oh ... ' Lani turned her head away. 'He thinks
I'm too young to know my own mind. He thinks 1
should find someone else, someone with ... pros-
pects.'

'Prospects?' Mrs Worth snorted. 'Jake has pros-

pects. He's my heir. When I die, he'll be a wealthy
man.'

'1 don't think those are the kind of prospects that

matter to him,' said Lani carefully. 'He sees himself
as ... as a failure. He won't listen to reason. He
knows he shouldn't have left the hospital, that he
should be having therapy, but-'

'Wait!' Mrs Worth interrupted her. 'Are you

saying Jake discharged himself from the hospital in
London?'

Lani nodded. 'Didn't you know?' ,

'How could I?' exclaimed Mrs. Worth tersely. 1

haven't seen him. He doesn't confide in me. '
Lani shrugged, somewhat amazed to find herself
discussing Jake with this arrogant old woman. To
her astonishment, she was actually beginning. to
feel some sympathy for the old lady, and realising
she had said more than enough, she got to her
feet.

'1 think l' d better be going. .

'Must you?' Mrs Worth looked up at her with real

regret. 'But you'll come and see me again? You’ll
keep me informed of Jake 's condition? '
'I don't know whether 1 can do that, Mrs Worth, '
Lani replied honestly. 'Perhaps it' s something you
should find out for yourself. '
Outside again, Lani felt a growing sense of in-
credulity at what had happened. Half an hour ago,
she had regarded Mrs Worth as little more .than a
selfish old woman, using her money to manipulate
her own ends. But suddenly, she was just another
human being, a lonely human being, whose actions
had denied her the one thing she craved-the love
of her grandson.
Realising abruptly how late it was, Lani put all
thoughts of Jake' s grandmother aside, and hurried-
ly made her descent of the cliff path. It was after SIX,
and by now Jake might be wondering where she
was Unless Hannah had informed him what was
going on, and somehow she doubted the house-
keeper would do that.
Slipping on the moist earth, she reached the
verandah steps and climbed them swiftly. Now that
she was here again, her heart was beating rapidly,
and her fingers trembled as she reached for the
handle of the door.

If she had expected some positive reaction to her

lateness, she was disappointed. When she entered
the living room, she found Jake sprawled on the
sofa reading a magazine, and his faintly drawn
expression could have been accounted for in half a
dozen different ways. She did not flatter herself that
he had missed her, only that he might have won-
dered where she had gone.

'l'm sorry I'm late,' she said, closing the door

behind her, and his eyebrows arched dismissingly.
'I ... went for a drive. I needed time to think.'

Jake put the magazine aside and swung his feet

to the floor. 'And have you?' he asked tautly.
'Thought, I mean? I assume you've considered leav-
ing. What is your decision?'

Lani sighed. '1 want to stay.'

'1 see.' Jake's cheeks hollowed for a moment, and

then, reaching for one crutch, he hauled himself to
his feet. 'Well, I've been thinking, too.'

Lani quivered. 'Oh, yes?'

'Yes.' Jake straightened, his expression sombre.

'I've decided to let you stay, too.' He paused, as her
eyes widened in surprise, and then went on, 'I've
decided l' d be a fool to let you go. This afternoon I
realised l' d grown used to having you around. I
don't want to be alone again.'

Lani gulped. 'You mean-'

'1 mean I'm selfish enough to accept your offer of

... friendship, companionship, call it what you
will.'

Lani gazed at him. 'For how long?'

'1 don't know.' Jake flexed his fingers instinctive-

ly. 'That's up to you, 1 suppose. You can work here.
The desk upstairs should prove suitable for conver-
sion, and 1 won't trouble you unless 1 have to. '

'Oh, Jake!' .

Lani would have gone to him then, but he quickly

turned away, dragging himself towards the kitchen
with determined steps. '1 suggest we have some
food,' he said, jerking open the door, and Lani was
left to wonder exactly what he meant.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

B y the following morning, Lani had learned what

Jake' s compromise meant. After spending a lonely
night in the comfortable bed upstairs and coming
down to find Jake already dressed and ready for the
day, she quickly realised his intention was to stifle
all feeling between them. He had agreed to let her
stay, but it was not an emotive victory. It was more
in the nature of an armistice. Hostilities would
cease, but there was no question of a reconcilia-
tion.

It was not an easy draught to swallow, but short

of creating further conflict between them, Lani had
to accept it. She was still here, she told herself
fiercely, he had not completely rejected her. It was
up to her to prove her staying power, to show him
she meant what she said.
'I--er-I'll have to go back to London, to collect
all my paints and drawing equipment,' she ven-
tured over the breakfast Hannah had prepared, and
Jake cast a brooding glance in her direction.

'How long will that take?' he queried, arching one

dark brow, and Lani licked her lips nervously before
giving her reply.

'If-if 1 left later this morning, 1 could be back by

tomorrow night,' she murmured, aware of his
suspicious gaze. '1 couldn't do it all in one day. 1
ought really to see Miles and explain.'

'Miles?'

'Miles Rossiter. You remember? He's my agent.

He's probably beginning to wonder when I'm com-

ing back.'

'1 see.' Jake pushed his coffee cup aside. 'And will
Rossiter try to persuade you to stay?'

'He may try,' said Lani honestly. 'But he won't

succeed. I'll be back tomorrow night. 1 promise.'

'You don't have to promise that to me,' dec1ared

Jake harshly, suddenly thrusting back his chair and
getting to his feet. '1 shall survive, no doubt. I
always have. Give my regards to your father. Tell
him 1 half wish 1 had taken his advice.'

Driving along the A30, Lani forced herself to

accept the fact that she would have to get used to
Jake's occasional spurts of cruelty. It was his escape
valve; his way of releasing the pent-up frustration
that was threatening to destroy him. He didn't
mean it, she told herself, not very convincingly. He
was only letting off steam. But it hurt nevertheless,
and she wished they could have parted on more
amicable terms.

She reached London in the late afternoon, and

drove immediately to Pelham Court, arriving there
before her father got home from the office.

'Why Lani, my dear,' exclaimed Mrs Evans, hear-

ing her in the hall and bustling through from the
kitchen. 'You're a sight for sore eyes and no mis-
take. Oh, your father will be pleased. He's missed
you, you know.'

Lani' s smile was faint, but she removed her coat

and laid it over the chest before pushing open the
drawing-room door. 'It's good to see you, Mrs
Evans,' she responded, surveying the familiar room
with troubled eyes. 'Do you think 1 could have a
sandwich? 1 haven't eaten a thing since this morn-
ing.'

'Of course.' Mrs Evans was understanding. 'You

fetch your cases out of the car, and by the time
you've put them upstairs, I'll have a nice cup of tea
ready for you.'

'I-don't have any cases, Mrs Evans.' Lani lifted

her shoulders in a gesture of regret. 'I'm not
staying. At least, only tonight. I just carne for so me
more of my things.'

Mrs Evans' lips parted. 'You mean you're going

back to Cornwall?'

'That's right.'

Mrs Evans shook her head. 'Well, I don't know,

1 m sure. Your father won't like it, Lani.'

'I'm sorry.' Lani turned away. 'But my father has

only himself to blame.'

While Mrs Evans was preparing her tea, Lani

phoned Miles. 'Lani!' he exclaimed, with evident
relief. Hell, 1 was beginning to think l' d have to hire
a private detective to find you. What with your
father denying a11 knowledge of your whereabouts
and the publishers hounding me for the new
book-' He broke off impatiently. 'Anyway, you're
back now, thank goodness. When can we meet?'

'It's, not that simple: Miles.' Lani gave a rueful

sigh. Look, a11 right, I’11 see you this evening. But,
please, don't expect too much.'

'You mean you haven' t been working, ' said Miles

flatly. 'Well, don't worry. 1 guess 1 can hold them off
for a few weeks longer. Where shall we eat? My
apartment? You have some explaining to do, young
lady, and it might be easier done in private.'

Lani hesitated, '1 can't have dinner with you,

Miles. I've got to talk to my father, too. 1'11 come
round after we've eaten. Say about nine o’clock’ '

'A11 right.' Miles was obviously amazed that she

had agreed to come to his apartment after holding
off for so long. '1'11 see you about nine. Don't keep
me waiting.'

Lani was in the bath when her father got home.

She heard his car in the drive and she was irresist-
ibly reminded of that other occasion when his ar-
rival home had aroused such panic inside her. It
didn't panic her now, but it did stir feelings that
were best forgotten. Feelings like anger, and resent-
ment, and the bitter taste of betrayal that would
never quite disperse.

Mrs Evans must have told him she was home for
she was drying herself when her father knocked at
her bedroom door. 'Can 1 come in, Lani?' he ca11ed,
his voice low and anxious, and Lani wrapped a robe
about her before allowing him to enter.

'Hello, Father,' she greeted him politely, retreat-

ing behind a chair when he would have embraced
her. 'How are you? You look well. I imagine the
warmer weather is more to your liking. '

'Lani, Lani ... ' Roger St John spread his hands

appealingly. 'Must we go on with this? We're not
strangers. We're father and daughter. You re treat-
ing me as if-we11, as if we hardly knew one
another.'
'1'm sorry.' Lani picked up her hairbrush from the
dressing table, and began stroking the bristles
through her hair. '1 thought it would be easier if we
behaved as strangers. Anything else is likely to
create unpleasantness.' , .
'For mercy' s sake, child, haven t you forgiven me
yet?' Roger raised his eyes heavenward, as if seek-
ing divine guidance. 'Can't you understand? I did
what 1 did out of jealousy. 1 wanted to see Clare
squirm, 1 admit it. How was I to know how she
would react?'

Lani found her hand was trembling, and replaced

the brush on the tray. 'It doesn't matter,' she said
unsteadily. 'It's over now, and nothing you say can
change the situation. I'd really rather not talk about
it. That's not why 1 carne home.'

'At least you still regard this as your home,' he

exclaimed bitterly. 'Though not for long, I hear. Mrs
Evans says you're returning to Cornwall. Is it true?
Are you living with that man?'

Lani expelled her breath slowly. 'I'm living in his

house,' she replied, letting him make what he liked
of that. '1 carne back to get my work. I want to finish
the book, and I've arranged to see Miles later to
explain the situation to him.'

'1 understood you couldn't work,' said her father

tersely. 'Robin said-'

'1 think I can now,' Lani interceded swiftly, realis-

ing as she did so how amazing that was. 'I'm going

to try, anyway.'

Her father sighed. 'You've spoken to Rossiter, I

suppose.'

'On the phone this afternoon, yes.'

'Did he tell you he's been pestering me here,

trying to find out where you were?'

'But you wouldn't tell him.'

'No.' Her father clasped his hands together. 'Do

you think I'm proud of the fact that my daughter is
co-habiting with the man my wife has discarded?'
he demanded contemptuously. 'For God' s sake,
Lani, come home for good. Jake Pendragon can be
nothing but trouble for you.'

Miles' apartment was just as sophisticated and

modem as she had expected. He met her as she was
parking her car in India Mews, and escorted her
inside the building with his hand beneath her
elbow.

'You can't be too careful,' he remarked as they

entered the lift. 'At this time of the night there can
be some dubious characters around, and I shouldn't
like to spoil our evening.'

Lani managed a faint smile, but she detached

herself from his lingering fingers as she did so,
putting the width of the lift between them.

The apartment Miles unlocked was all chrome

and teak and plate glass. Even the carpet, which
was a shade off white, added to the impression of
space-age living, and although Lani found it in-
teresting, she preferred the more traditional kind of
furnishings.

Accepting the offer of a drink, she seated herself

on a cream leather couch, grimacing a little as it sank
towards the floor. With her eyes drawn to a cubist
painting, she endeavoured to make herself comfort-
able and wished she'd chosen one of the tubular
armchairs when Miles stretched his length beside
her.

'So,' he said, handing her the martini she had

requested, 'where have you been? l've rung around
to all your friends and not even Robin had an
inkling.' .

Lani sipped her martini slowly, and then said:

'Did ... did Robin tell you anything?

'Should he have done?' Miles shrugged. 'Only

that you were finding it hard to settle down to
writing again. Is that what you mean?'

Lani hesitated. 'Did he mention Jake Pendragon?'

'Jake Pendragon?' Miles frowned. 'You mean

your mother's protégé? No. Why would he? Unless
you've heard how he is since the accident?'

Lani sighed. 'Yes. I've heard.' She paused and

then hurried on before she could change her mind.
'That's where I've been, Miles. With Jake Pendra-
gon.'

Miles, who had been relaxing beside her on the

low couch, now jerked upright. 'You've be en with
Jake Pendragon?' he echoed incredulously. 'Why,
for heaven's sake? It wasn't your fault he was hurt.
No, don’t tell .me your mother's got you playing
nursemaid until she gets back! Lani, you can't-'

'It' s nothing like that.' Now Lani pushed herself

up, too, getting to her feet and pacing restlessly
about the room. 'You don't understand, Miles. I
ought to have told you before. When you carne to
visit me in hospital. You asked why I was interested
in Jake, and I should have explained.'

. 'Explained? Explained what?' Miles gazed at her

m dawning comprehension. 'You can't mean ...
you're not ... involved with him?'

Lani bent her head. 'I'm in love with him, yes.'

Miles uttered an oath. 'You're not serious!'

'1 am.' Lani took a deep breath. 'That's why I

wanted to see you, to talk to you. I wanted to
explain where I'll be from now on, how you can get
in touch with me-'

'You mean you're living with him?'

Lani sighed. 'Yes. ,

'Where? Not in London.'

'In Cornwall, actually.' Lani moistened her lips.

'His grandmother has a house mid-way between
Helston and Penzance. You can leave a message for
me there.'

Miles shook his head. 'You're not living with his

grandmother then?'

'No.' Lani hesitated, and then she admitted, 'Jake

owns some property close by. He-he doesn't have
a phone.'

'His grandmother' s name' s Pendragon, too?'

'Oh, no.' Lani shook her head. 'Her name is

Worth. Mrs Worth. Tremorna Point. 1 don't know
the number, but 1 expect you can get it from direc-
tory enquiries.'

Miles carne to his feet looking slightly staggered.

'1 can't believe this, you know,' he muttered heavi-
ly. 'For pity' s sake, Lani, whatever possessed you to
get involved with him? He-he's a cripple!'

'Don't ever use that word again,' exclaimed Lani

fiercely, setting down her glass and reaching for the
coat she had discarded. 'Jake's not a cripple. He's
partially disabled, that' s all. And . . . and given
time-'

'-he'll recover, 1 know,' muttered Miles scepti-

caUy. 'If you believed that, you wouldn't get so
angry with me for saying it.'

Lani faced him squarely. '1 don't really care,' she

said, disrupting his scornful demeanour. 'Whether
Jake recovers or not, 1 mean. Oh, 1 care because it's
what he wants, but for myself, l'm quite happy as,
things are.'

Miles pursed his lips. 'Don't you mean that so

long as Pendragon is crippled, you don't have any
competition?' he suggested harshly, and Lani
winced.

'No--'

'1 don't be1ieve you.' Miles gazed at her impa-

tiently. Oh, Lani, what will you do if your mother
comes back? If she takes it into her head that she
wants him after all? What will he do if he has to
choose between you and his career?'

It was six o' clock the following evening when Lani

arrived back at Tremorna Point. Parking the car in
its usual place, she hoped Mrs Worth would not
detain her today, and she unpacked her things with
a speed born of anxiety.

However, no one appeared to del ay her, and

draping the bag containing her sketching pad and
painting materials over one shoulder, she tucked
the portable drawing board under her arm. She had
brought another suitcase of clothes, too, but she
decided she would have to make two journeys.
Tackling the cliff path was going to be arduous
enough, and she was glad it was not as windy as it
had been before.

Even so, she found the greatest difficulty coping

with the easel and the heavy canvas holdall. She
realised she should have brought the suitcase and
the holdall together and gone back for the easel, but
it was too late to turn back now. Once or twice, the
wooden struts of the drawing board caught in tus-
socks of grass, almost unbalancing her, and just
when she thought she had safely made it, the legs
got between the bars of the wooden handrail that
led up to the verandah, and she was catapulted
backwards on to the rough earth.

Her cry of pain and frustration was instinctive,

and she struggled to her feet again with real discom-
fort. She was glad she was wearing cords to protect
her knees from the scrubby slope, but her spine felt
bruised and she ached a11 over.

Hauling the offending article on to the verandah,

she co11ected the holda11 and thrust open the door.
'It's me,' she ca11ed in a sma11 voice, somewhat
chastened to think that Jake had not even troubled
to come and see if she was hurt, but when she
entered the room, she found it was empty.
'Jake!'

With a gesture of resignation, she managed to get

her belongings inside the door, and went in search
of her quarry. She assumed he must be in the
kitchen, preparing something to eat, and that was
why he had not heard her, but she found the
kitchen was unoccupied also.

'Jake!'

Refusing to give in to a sense of apprehension,

Lani ran up the stairs to the bedroom, pushing open
the door without hesitation. But like the living room
and the kitchen, the bedroom was deserted also,
and panic gripped her as she carne back down the
stairs. Where was he? Where could he be, she asked
herself frantica11y. Surely he couldn't be so cruel as
to disappear without leaving any word.

'Oh, Jake-' she breathed miserably, sinking

down on to the bottom stair and burying her face in
her hands, and as she did so she heard the sound of
running water. Lifting her head, she realised some-
one was in the bathroom, and without giving any
thought to the proprieties, she jumped up and
opened the bathroom door.

'Who the he11-Lani!'

Jake' s furious protest ended with the impatient

use of her name, but Lani hovered in the doorway
helplessly, too relieved to see him to pay any atten-
tion to his opposition. The realisation that he was
there, before her, not miles away as she had sus-
pected, was too emotional a revelation to dismiss,
and the fact that his only article of attire was the
cream towel about his hips was simply an added
incentive to stand and stare.

'For Christ's sake, Lani, get out of here!' he

ordered, reaching for the brown towelling robe he
had discarded before bathing. But she forestalled
him, snatching up the robe and holding it out for
him.

. Although he glared at her frustratedly, he had

little choice but to do as she had intended. Favour-
ing his unscarred leg, he managed to turn so that
she could slide the robe up over his shoulders, and
her fingers tingled where they touched his smooth
brown skin. She ached to put her lips against his
flesh, to stroke her tongue along the fine, sun-
bleached hairs that etched his spine, and caress the
muscled narrow line of his hips-but she didn't.
She helped him on with the robe and then stepped
back abruptly, saying in a low voice, '1 didn't know
where you were. 1 was worried.'

'What do you mean?'

He turned again to face her, and Lani retreated to

the open doorway. 'Didn't you hear me calling
you?' she asked defensively. 'I've even be en up-
stairs looking for you. 1-1 fell off the verandah
steps. If you're interested, that is.'

Jake was hooking a crutch under his arm as she

spoke, but her words brought his head up. 'You fell
off the steps?' he echoed tersely. 'How the hell did
you do that?'

'1 was carrying my easel,' said Lani, with a .sniff,

'You might ask if I hurt myself. Instead of looking so
angry.'

'1 assume it was nothing too serious since you've

be en up and down the stairs,' he responded bleak-
ly. 'But yes. As a matter of fact, I did hear you. That
was when I decided to get out of the bath.'

Lani hunched her shoulders. 'You could have

answered.'

'Yes.' Jake regarded her dourly. 'However, as I

didn't feel like greeting you in the manner to which
you're no doubt accustomed, I decided to let you
wait.'

Lani pressed her lips together. '1 gather you

haven't missed me.'

'Oh, you're wrong.' But Jake's tawny eyes were

not glittering with pleasurable anticipation. 'This
morning I desperately wished your neck was within
reach of my hands, but of course, it wasn't.'

Lani blinked. '1 don't understand.'

'My grandmother carne to see me,' explained Jake

harshly. 'Now, get out of here, will you? I would
like to get dressed.'

Lani gazed at him disbelievingly. 'Your grand-

mother carne to see you!' she exclaimed. 'Mrs Worth
carne here!'
'She's not an invalid, you know,' said Jake grim-
ly. 'She just likes to act like one. Close the door after
you. I'm getting cold.'

Lani went out and closed the door half-

bemusedly, the realisation that Jake's grandmother
had taken the trouble to come down here to see him
overriding all else. Mrs Worth had actually walked
down the cliff path to see her grandson, and what
was more amazing, she had walked up it again. But
why? Why now? Lani trembled as she crossed the
living-room floor to the windows. Had her con-
versation with the old lady had anything to do with
it? And more important, had Mrs Worth told Jake
they had talked together?

She was still standing there when Jake appeared,

dressed now in close-fitting fin e wool trousers and a
dark suede shirt with lacings at the neck. She
noticed he seemed to be managing quite adequately
with only one crutch now, and he had not replaced
the bandages on his hands since the night he had
come to her bed. In consequence, his hands were
losing the pallor that being denied the air had
caused, and he had never looked more disturbing or
more dangerously vulnerable. Miles' words carne
back to her with unwilling penetration, and she
wondered what Jake would do if Clare chose to
interfere in his life again. If her mother thought he
was improving, she might just take another chance,
and whatever Jake's own feelings, Lani had no
doubts that Clare's interest was not wholly mercen-
ary. She had wanted Jake-the man and his
music-and given time and incentive, he might just
forget ...

'Why are you stiU wearing your coat?' he asked

now, and Lani looked down at her sheepskin jacket
rather blankly.

'Oh, I've left the suitcase I brought in the car, ' she
murmured uneasily. 'I'll get it later. Shall 1 make
some tea?'

'Not yet,' said Jake fla tly, propping himself on the

arm of one of the couches. 'Why didn't you tell me
you'd seen the old lady? Were you afraid I'd throw
you out if I thought you were fraternising with the enemy?'

'She's not your enemy.' .

'Don't you believe it.' Jake's lips twisted. 'She

wants to take me over-control me. Total com-
mand-isn't that the strategic word for it?'

Lani sighed. 'She cares about you. She wants to

help you.'

'She wants to own me!'

'She carne to see you.'

'Because you shamed her into it,' he retorted harshly.

'That' s not true.' Lani twisted her-hands together.

'She-she just wanted a reason. She' s a very sad old

woman.'

'1 can see she's got an ally in you.' ,

That' s not true.' Lani shook her head. I didn 't let
her intimidate me, that's all.'
'No?' Jake's short laugh had no humour in it. 'Yet
you managed to tell her everything about me. Even
to my discharging myself from hospital. '

Lani's shoulders sagged. 'I didn t intend to.'

'Exactly. But my grandmother managed to worm

the truth from you just the same.'
Lani met his stormy gaze unwillingly. What-
what did she want?'

"To talk to me.' Jake's mouth compressed.

'What about?'

Lani couldn't prevent the question, and Jake's

eyes perceptibly narrowed. 'Why should I tell you?
You didn't confide in me.'

'1 would have, but-'

'-but you knew how I'd react,' Jake finished for

her caustically. 'What's the matter? Did she ask you
about our relationship?'

Lani bent her head. 'Perhaps.'

'You told her you were Clare's daughter, any-

way.'

'1 didn't.' Lani was indignant. 'She already knew.

In any case, what does it matter?'
Jake shook his head. 'She thinks I should marry
you,' he remarked offhandedly, and Lani's face
suffused with colour. 'Did you know that?'

'No.' Lani resisted the impulse to turn away.

'1 wonder what you said to make her change her

mind about you,' he added consideringly.

'Why ask me?' Lani retorted, with some difficul-

ty. His careless words were more painful than he
knew. 'Is that the only reason she carne to see
you?'

'Not the only one, no.' Jake's tone was flat now.
'She carne to assure herself that you had not walked
out on me.' He hesitated. 'And to suggest that I
avail myself of the services of the physiotherapist at
the hospital in Penzance.'

Lani he Id her breath. 'And did you agree.'

'No.'

'Oh.'

She couldn't hide her disappointment, and the

emotional strain of this conversation was becoming
too much for her. For a moment she thought she
had done some good, but obviously Jake's feelings
towards his grandmother had not changed, and
aware of his brooding gaze upon her, she shifted
from one foot to the other.

'You give up easily, don't you?' he remarked

suddenly, and her eyes darted to meet his. "The old
lady doesn't,' he added, his mouth twisting de-
risively. 'This afternoon a physiotherapist arrived to
see me. Summoned from Plymouth at my grand-
mother's request, she knew, as you evidently
didn't, that 1 wouldn't turn the woman away.'

Lani blinked. 'A woman?'

'A Miss Shelley. By the time she'd finished with

me, 1 felt worse than 1 did immediately after the car
hit me.'

Lani nodded. 'So that was why-'

'-1 was taking a bath at this hour of the day, yes,'

he finished for her. "To try and ease my aching
muscles!'
Lani tried to smile. 'She must have done some
good then.'

'Because 1 was in agony?' Jake was sardonic.

'No.' Lani sighed. 'But it may help.'

'Save me the platitudes.' Jake shook his head.

'Enough to say that once again the old lady has got
her own way.'

'5he means well.'

'1 imagine the same could have been said of

Pandora, before she opened the box.' Jake's eyes
held hers. 'But 1 am tempted to call her bluff.'

'What do you mean?'

'1 mean-perhaps 1 should marry you,' he re-
marked dispassionately, and Lani' s knees trembled
beneath her.

'M-marry me?' she breathed, hardly daring to

believe he was serious, and Jake nodded.

'Why not?' he asked bleakly. 'What a surprise the

old lady will have when she discovers Clare
Austin's daughter can be just as two-faced as her
mother!'

'Must you be so callous?'

Lani shivered in revulsion, and now she did turn

away, her breast heaving as she fought to govern
the anguish his bitterness had evoked. He had said
some harsh things to her in the past, but this was by
far the cruellest, and her nails dug into her palms as
she tried to control her feelings.

'Well?'

His taunting request for an answer forced her to

turn her head, and mastering the ball of misery in
her ,throat, she managed to say scornfully, 'You
don t really expect me to take your proposal serious-
ly, do you?'

'Don't 1?'

Bis unblinking stare was almost her undoing but

although Lani desperately wanted to accept,' she
knew there would be no future for her on his terms.
We ... we can all have second thoughts you
know,' she said, over her shoulder. "You
shouldn't-'

.'What kind of second thoughts?' Jake pushed

himself up from the arm of the sofa his irony
disappearing beneath a sudden surge of hostility
Grasping her shoulder, he swung her round to face
him, and although his torment wrung her heart, she
knew she must not give in. '1 thought it was what
you wanted,' he added harshly. 'Or has living here
with me already begun to pall?'

'1 ... perhaps it has.' Lani moistened her dry lips

with a tentative tongue. 'Or perhaps 1 need more
time to consider your offer.'

'Well, forget it!' Jake's catlike eyes spat fire. 'The

offer' s withdrawn. It should never have been made
in the first place. You're right. We all have second
thoughts. And mine are more inflexible than yours! '

Lani's nerve cracked. 'Jake . . .. ' .

But he was not listening to her. With aggressive

speed, he was propelling himself across the floor,
and only when he reached the door did he pause. 'I
expect you'll be leaving.' he said coldly. 'Perhaps
you'd let Hannah know. so she doesn 't bring more
food than I can stomach! '

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE Regency Room of the Bentynck Hotel was

crowded with people, and Lani, sipping her third
glass of champagne, endeavoured to look as if she
was enjoying herself. After all, this reception was
being held on her behalf, and she owed it to her
publishers to behave as if she was flattered by their
enthusiasm for the new book. It was amazing that
the story of Matilda and Mogbat had appeared at all,
completed as it had been in the least auspicious
circumstances, but at last the proofs had been
checked and the artwork approved, and Matilda's
New Apprenticewas ready to meet its readers.

The trouble was, Lani was always uneasy when

she was away from the Sea House. Leaving Jake
alone was something she seldom did, and although
she knew he would not thank her for it, she never
stayed in London longer than was necessary.

Not that she flattered herself he missed her. On

the contrary, since Mrs Worth had insisted that
Hannah should divide her time equally between her
house and that of her grandson, Jake was never
alone for long, and the housekeeper's presence had
helped to alleviate the strained situation between
him and Lani. In addition Judith Shelley, his phy-
siotherapist, visited almost every day, and while
she was working with her patient, Lani tended to
keep out of the way.

The last three months had not been easy. It had

taken a great deal of determination to stay on after
that disastrous scene with Jake, particularly when
she knew she had brought the present situation on
herself. But Jake's proposal had taken her complete-
ly by surprise and although she had desperately
wanted to accept, his reasons for making it had
robbed her of that right. She knew Jake had ex-
pected her to leave-and indeed, there were times
when she wondered exactly why she stayed-but
something, so me lingering hope that all could not
be lost, kept her at the Sea House, the brunt of Jake's
sarcasm and his anger.

The fact that Mrs Worth had be come her ally was
of little comfort to her. Lani could not help but
blame Jake's grandmother for the deterioration in
their relationship. Besides, Jake blamed her for
encouraging his grandmother' s interference in his
affairs, and the fact that he was getting better, that
his muscles were becoming supple and his ma-
nipulative powers stronger, seemed no consola-
tion.

The night he had come to her bed and comforted

her-the night he had made love to her-seemed
very far away now. Such contact as they had was
chiefly confined to impersonal matters, except on
those occasions when Jake chose to turn his caustic
wit in her direction. They were not frequent occa-
sions, and Lani suspected the level of whisky in the
decanter which Hannah kept filled had much to do
with it. Nevertheless, she dreaded those nights
when he chose to sit and stare at her across the firelit
width of the hearth, his tawny eyes appraising her,
and belittling her attempts to remain composed. His
words were always insolent, the manner of their
delivery sardonic, and Lani was left in little doubt of
his contempt for her existence.

Yet, still she stayed, weathering his humiliation

and his contempt, convincing herself, not very suc-
cessfully, that eventually things would improve.
She realised that if someone had told her two people
could live together as she and Jake were doing.
sharing the same house, yet living apart, she would
not have believed them. But it could happen. She
had ample proof of that. And only the fact that Jake
had not actually thrown her out left her any room
for hope.

It hurt badly, particularly when she knew he was

not so uncommunicative with Hannah or with
Judith Shelley. Sometimes, when she was working
upstairs, she heard him laughing with the physio-
therapist, and on those occasions she had to set her
jaw against the bitter pangs of jealousy. Not that
Judith encouraged her fears. On the contrary,
although she was an expert at her job, she was no
femme fatale,and she and Lani often shared a cup of
coffee together after Jake had gone to take his show-
er. Even so, she could not help resenting the hours
they spent together, hours which she and Jake
might have shared . . .

'Having a good time?'

Miles' affectionate voice in her ear and his arm

slipping lightly about her waist brought Lani out of
her reverie. She turned to look at him ruefully. 'Not
very, , she confessed, lifting the heat-dampened
weight of her hair from her neck. 'It' s very warm in
here. How soon do you think 1 can leave?'

'Well ... ' Miles glanced around. 'The speeches

are over and the champagne' s almost gone. 1 should
think we could leave quite soon, if that’s what you’d
like. You are going to have dinner with me, aren’t
you? 1 know a delightful little pub on the river
where they serve the most delicious scampi you’ve
ever tasted.'

Lani hesitated. 'Well ... '

'Lani, you promised!'

'1 know 1 did.' 5he sighed. Oh, all right. But 1

mustn't be late back. 1 want to leave for Cornwall
first thing in the morning.'

Miles shook his head. 'So soon!'

Lani shrugged. 'Of course. Why not?' .

'Oh, 1 don't know.' Miles expelled his breath

resignedly. '1 suppose l'm wondering how long this
situation is going to last.' '

Lani arched one quizzical brow. 'What situation?’

'Don't be coy.' Miles grimaced. 'Your commuting

between here and Cornwall, of course .. 1 mean, it’s
not as if you're married to him or anything.’

Lani bent her head. 'That's my affair.' t

'It's mine, too,' Miles contradicted earnestly. 1

care about you, Lani, you know 1 do. Why, 1’d even
hoped-' He broke off then, but she new what he
had been about to say. '1 just don’t like Pendragon
taking advantage of you like this,’ he went on .. ‘1
know it's not really my place to say so, but dammit,
Lani, 1 can' t pretend to approve of your rela-
tionship.'

Lani lifted her shoulders. 'You don t now what

our relationship is, Miles.'
'1 know you're living together,' he retorted
roughly. 'l'm not a complete fool. Jake Pendragon’s
not the kind of man to . . . well, to waste his
opportunities.'

Lani forced a tight smile. ‘I’d never have expected

prudishness from you, Miles.'

'It's not prudishness,' he retorted. '1 just don't

want you to get hurt, that's all. And Pendragon will
hurt you. 1 know it.'

Lani turned her head away. '1' d rather not talk

about it.'

Miles sighed. 'All right. All right. So how is he

anyway? Has he heard from your mother?'

'Why do you keep bringing my mother's name

into this?' Lani pressed her annoyingly unsteady
lips together. ‘I’ve told you, Clare is still in the
United 5tates. She' s not interested in Jake any
more-in either of us!'

Miles shrugged. 'If you say so.'

'1 do say so.' Lani walked jerkily towards the

door. 'Are you coming? Or shall I take a taxi home?'

Lani spent the night at Pelham Court as usual, but

she was awake at first light and packing her case into
the boot of the Capri when Roger 5t John carne
downstairs. Her relationship with her father was
still extremely fragile, and he made no comment
when she said she wasn't stopping for breakfast.

'Drive carefully, darling,' was his only concession

to his anxieties, and Lani offered her cheek for his
kiss with more warmth than of late.

'Look after yourself.' she murmured, relieved to

see that the warmer weather had robbed him of the
unhealthy pallor of his illness. 'Tell Mrs Evans
goodbye, will you? And thank her for pressing my
shirts.'

'1 will.' Her father lifted his hand in farewell. 'See

you soon.'

Lani's journey was completed in record time. In

spite of the fact that the holiday season had begun,
the roads on that mid-week morning were not
crowded, and her early start had given her an
advantage. The weather, too, was favourable. An
early morning mist gave way to a. shimmering heat,
and the chimneys and spires of villages glimpsed at
the side of the motorway wavered in the haze. For
the first time, she felt an unfamiliar, and not
altogether we1come, sense of homecoming, as the
orderly acres of Wiltshire and Somerset gave way to
the wilder reaches of the West country. She knew
this road so we11 now, and with the sun casting its
brilliance over moors and streams, and the distant
elusive lustre of the sea, she couldn't help a feeling
of identity.
She hoped Mrs Worth was not watching out for
her as she turned between the gates of the house on
Tremorna Point. Since her unexpected visit to the
Sea House, Jake's grandmother seemed to have
acquired a new lease of life, and she no longer spent
a11 her days closeted in her bedroom. According to
Hannah she insisted on getting dressed most
mornings, and instead of issuing her instructions
from her bed, she issued them instead from the
chaise longue in the drawing room.
As Lani drove around the house now, she
thought how much better it looked without the
concealing bars of the shutters, and although it
would never be a handsome dwelling, m the after-
noon sunlight it did have a certain elegance. Like
me, thought Lani ruefu11y, viewing her thin arms
without pleasure. But somehow. these days, she
seldom had any appetite, and although she ate
enough to live on, she took little enjoyment from it.
Always, at the back of her mind, was the trouble-
some anxiety of wondering what the future might
hold, and even today, with the sea like a benedic-
tion, sucking softly against the rocks below her, she
knew the familiar sense of apprehension she invari-
ably felt after being away from the Sea House for
any length of time.

Mrs Worth had not sent Hannah to intercept her,

she found, and she started down the cliff path with
some relief. It was always difficult to be civil when
her thoughts were obsessed with wondering how
Jake was and what mood he might be in, and her
pulse quickened automatically when she saw the
roof of the house below her.

She paused to take a breath, sweeping back the

red-gold curtain of hair, which had grown so much
longer lately, since she had given up going to the
hairdresser's. She would braid it tonight, she
thought. Looking forward to the coolness of a glass
of iced water, she bent to pick up her case again, and
then she heard the sound she had heard once
before. Softly on the still afternoon air she heard the
unmistakable .notes of a piano, and her heart
pounded in her chest as she stumbled forward.

She didn't know why, but her footsteps slowed as

she neared the steps leading up to the verandah.
The music-for it was music, tuneful lyrical music-
was much louder here, and although she told her-
self. it must be the radio, or a record played on the
hi-fi system, she was loath to intrude. To her knowl-
edge, Jake had never shown any interest in any
form of music since his incapacitation, and even the
thought that he might have changed his mind was
enough to hold her motionless. That it might actual-
ly be Jake playing was too much to hope; it was
beyond her capabilities, and she didn't even know if
she wanted to find out. The fact that he was doing
whatever it was he was doing in her absence was a
potent deterrent, and she stood there transfixed as
the melody washed over her. It was not a piece she
had heard before, she realised, but somehow she
felt sure she would hear it again. It had that certain
intangible appeal that made it stand out from the
masses, and with this thought came another wJ1ich
caused her to tighten her lips impatiently: it was not
Jake's kind of music!

It was not Brahms or Beethoven, it was not Cho-

pin or Rachmaninov; it was not classical music at a11.
She was standing he re worrying over whether she
should interrupt his listening, when a11 the time it
was probably Hannah, or that niece of hers, Susan,
tuned in to the top twenty on the radio.

Abandoning her hesitancy, Lani climbed the

steps and swung across the slats of the verandah to
the door. She was not best pleased at the thought
that Susan might be entertaining Jake in her ab-
sence, and she swung open the door with a distinct
lack of discretion.

The music stopped immediately and Lani, half-

way into the room, halted disconcertedly. Although
Jake was not now playing, he had evidently been
doing so, and the speed with which she had made
her entrance had prevented him from putting the
necessary distance between himself and the piano.
Instead, he sat there, motionless at the keys, and
Lani's mouth and throat dried up at the realisation
of what she had done. She would have given any-
thing to have been able to turn around and walk out
again, without his having seen her, but it was too
late now, she had to make the best of it, and she
shook her head bewilderedly as he reached for his
walking stick.

'You're early,' he said, taking the onus from her

and getting to his feet. Lately, he had been able to
abandon the use of the crutches altogether, and
although she knew he still got a lot of pain with his
knee, he was no longer incapable of walking un-
aided,

'I-yes,' she answered, dropping her suitcase to

the floor and closing the door behind her. 'Um ...
1’m sorry.'

Jake disregarded her apology as he made his way

to where a jug of iced lemon juice resided on a tray
on the. table. Pouring some into a glass, he surprised
her still further by bringing the glass back to her,
and offering it. Take it,' he said, as she made a
hesitant gesture. 'You look as if you need it.'

Lani took the glass gratefully, and swallowed at

least a third of its contents before wiping her mouth
on the back of her hand. 'Thank you,' she said,
aware of him watching her. '1 was terribly thirsty
How did you know?'

Jake's lips twisted. '1 didn't. You just looked as if

you were about to pass out. You' d better sit down. 1
guess the heat's getting to you.'
'It's not the heat.'

The defensive words spilled helplessly from

Lani’s lips, but then, realising he was unlikely to
confide m her, she walked on somewhat unsteady
legs to the sofa and sat down. He was right. She did
feel decidedly shaken, and she didn't know how to
handle the confused turmoil of her thoughts. What
did it mean, she asked herself incredulously.
How long had this been going on? And more im-
portantly, why had he been playing in secret,
when he must know how much it would mean to
her?

Jake circled the sofa to take the seat opposite, lean

and disturbing in an open-necked co11arless T-shirt
and tight-fitting cotton trousers. His feet were en-
cased in rubber-soled track shoes, and they pro-
truded into Lani's line of vision as he stretched his
legs across the hearth between them.

'Why are you looking like that?' he inquired brus-

quely, and Lani permitted herself a swift glance.up
at him. But she didn't say anything, and massaging
his thigh, he added, 'What do you expect me to do?
Apologise?'

'Oh, no.' Lani spoke accusingly. 'No, 1 wouldn't

expect that from you.' She had recovered herself
somewhat now, and resentment was taking the
place of consternation. 'Just te11 me honestly, it was
you playing, wasn't it? Evidently your improve-
ment has been greater than 1 thought.'

Jake expe11ed his breath impatiently. 'Don't be a

fool! 1 was . . . playing around, that's a11. It was
nothing demanding, believe me. Just a piece 1 wrote
several years ago, when 1 believed my only future
was in composition.'

Lani met his brooding gaze. 'You wrote ... that piece?'

'For my sins, yes. Why? Was it so bad?

'No.' Lani was as vehemently honest as before.

'No. No, it was terrific, rea11y! 1-1 loved it. 1 thought
it was a pop tune.'

'Oh, great!' Jake grimaced, but somehow she

didn't think he was angry with her.

'It's true.' Lani was enthusiastic. 'Did you never

try to get it published?'
'No.' Jake regarded her tolerantly. 'It's not that
easy, believe me.'

'But it's good!' Lani protested. 'Have you written

any others?'

Jake's mouth turned down at the corners. 'Not

recently, no.'

Lani flushed. '1 don't mean recently.'

Jake shrugged. 'Some, 1 guess. Before 1 went to

seek my fortune in the States.' He was ironic.

Lani ignored his sarcasm. 'Well, 1 think you

should let someone see them-hear them.'

'Do you?' Jake tipped his head back against the

upholstery. 'You think I might be nurturing another
talent?' He was mocking. 'Forget it, Lani. I'm
finished with music.'

Lani sighed. 'But you can play the piano ... '

'1 can strum the keys,‘ he corrected her flatly.

'That's not playing.'

'It's better than you did before,' she reminded

him fiercely, but Jake shook his head.

'1 was ... teasing,' he said carefully. 'That day I

made that cacophony of sound, I was only trying to
show you how futile it was.'

Lani stared at him. 'You mean-' She glanced

towards the piano. 'You mean, you could always
play like that?'

'Well ... ' Jake pulled a wry face. 'Not quite as

well, perhaps. I have had some practice.'

Lani's jaw quivered. 'Without telling me!'

'When you were not here,' he amended.

'What a rotten thing to do!'

'As you say.' His mouth tightened. 'However, 1

intended telling you, eventua11y.'

'1 don't believe you.' . ..

'Please yourself.' His brief mood of amicability

was dispersing, and Lani could see the familiar
signs of hostility creeping back into his expression,
but she couldn't remain silent.

'1 suppose Hannah knows a11 about it,' she flared.

'And Judith! 1 suppose she feels it's a11 down to her!'

'Judith recommended 1 use my hands as much as

possible, yes,' he conceded, infuriating her still
further, and Lani sprang up from the sofa. .

'You-you're despicable,' she exclaimed fiercely,

her breast heaving with the force of her emotions.
'You knew how much this would mean to me, and
yet you deliberately hid it from me!'

'And you wonder why?' he. countered harshly,

rising to face her. 'I knew this, would happen. 1
knew how you'd react. For God’s sake, Lani, stop
dramatising the situation!' .
'Dramatising the situation!' she echoed disbe-
lievingly. 'You te11 me you've been playing the
piano behind my back, and because I'm hurt that
you didn't confide in me, you accuse me of over-
reacting!'
Jake expe11ed his breath wearily. 1 didn’t want
you to build up your hopes unnecessarily, he re-
torted.
'Oh, really?' Lani gazed at him scornfully. 'Or
were you secretly hoping to resume your career
without telling me?'

'Don't be ridiculous!'

'What's so ridiculous?' Miles' words carne back to

her with unwanted clarity. 'Has my mother been in
touch with you? Is that what it is? Has she told you
she's prepared to give you another chance, so long
as you promise to be a good boy this time?'

Jake's face contorted. 'You're crazy!'

'Am I? 1 wonder.'

With a stifled sob, Lani whirled about, unwilling

to let him see how he had upset her. She ought to
walk out of here right now, she told herself bitterly.
He was a liar and a cheat, and she was simply
destroying herself by remaining.

'Lani-'
His frustrated use of her name was like an abras-
ive caress, and just when she was deciding she
needed some time to think this out, his tortured
breath seared the exposed curve of her neck. He
was so close she could feel the heat of his body even
through the cotton dungarees she had worn for
travelling and her lungs constricted when his hands
gripped her waist. Unable to resist, she was drawn
back against the hard length of his body, and her
heart fluttered uncontro11ably as his tongue
brushed the sensitive skin of her shoulder. It was
warm and moist and unbearably sensuous, and she
felt herself yielding against him, inviting him to go
on.

With a groan, his teeth ground into the soft flesh

below her ear, hurting her and exciting her a11 at
once, making her twist sinuously against his body,
inciting his desire. It was so long since he had
touched her, so long since he had held her and
kissed her and let her feel the effect she was having
on him. He turned her around to face him, and she
felt his tautness pressing against her stomach.

'If only 1 didn't want you so much,' he grated,

cradling her face between his. two hands and gazing
down at her with smouldering eyes. Then, when
her lips parted in protest, he lowered his head and
the hungry pressure of his mouth moved over hers. .

It was a violent, passionate invasion of her inner-

most feelings. His kiss left her weak and helpless,
incapable of preventing the intimate exploration of
her body that accompanied it. His hands moved
knowingly from her breasts to her thighs, sliding
inside the dungarees to seek beneath the hem of the
short-sleeved cotton shirt she wore with them. Her
breasts swelled, the nipples hardening instinctive-
ly, and his tongue plunged deeply into her mouth
as he moulded their aching fullness.

Lani's senses swam, her loins throbbing in ex-

pectation of his touch. She wanted him to touch her,
everywhere, but more than. that she wanted the
possession of his body, invading her, filling her ...

Automatically her hands reached for him,

pushing his shirt aside so that she could bury her
face in the fine hair that arrowed down over his flat
stomach. The virile fibres invaded her nose and lips,
but she did not draw away from their suffocating
sexuality. She wanted to touch him and taste him,
to take him into her mouth and possess him as his
fingers were possessing her. Her hands moved
down over his chest to the revealing tautness of his
trousers, finding his zip and propelling it down-
ward. She could feel the throbbing urgency of his
desire beneath her fingers, and he shuddered con-
vulsively at that intimate caress. . .

'Christ, Lani-' he choked against her lips, and

then they both froze at the sound of footsteps

mounting to the verandah.

All at once, she was free, and as she hurried to

restore her clothes to some semblance of order, Jake
composed himself. By the time Judith Shelley-for
it was the physiotherapist-knocked at the door
his expression was quite impassive, and only Lani
was aware of the smouldering passion in his eyes
and the pulse beating erratically at his temple.

'You're back,' were J udith's first words when

Lani opened the door to her, and the younger girl
nodded unnecessarily and stepped awkwardly
aside.

'Earlier than expected,' she agreed, exchanging

an oblique look with Jake, and his mouth twitched
at the silent communication before he moved to
greet his guest.

Judith entered the room without hesitation

obviously unaware of any undercurrents between
them. She was approximately the same height as
Lani, but of a much heavier build, and the muscles
she had acquired in the course of her work gave her
a somewhat masculine appearance. Even so, she
was a pleasant girl, and extremely feminine in her
attitudes, sharing with Lani a love of casual clothes
and French perfume and the poems of the great
romantics,

'Well,' she said, when she saw Jake moving with-

out the aid of his stick. You re evidently feeling
much better than when 1 last saw you.' She turned
to Lani. 'Two days ago when 1 carne, he was as
grumpy as a bear. And distinctly unco-operative.'

'Was he?'

Lani's eyes had widened at this unexpected piece

of information, but although she looked to Jake for
confirmation, he was not responsive. '1 don't think
Lani wants to hear about that, Judith,' he declared,
glancing behind him for the stick which he had
apparently decided he needed after a11. 'Where do
you want me? Here, or on the verandah?'

'What an offer!' gurgled Judith delightedly, but

Jake was in no mood to respond to her teasing.

'Can we get on with it?' he demanded, cha11eng-

ing Lani's probing gaze, and Judith shrugged at the
other girl behind his back before agreeing that out-
doors might be best. .
'It's so warm, isn't it?' she murmured to Lani, as
Jake preceded her outside, and Lani nodded absent-
ly, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to pay the
other girl a lot of attention. The information that
Jake had been objectionable earlier m the week was
too disturbing to ignore. She had left for London on
Monday morning. Jake must have missed her after
all and his resentment was due to the time she
spent away from the Sea House-and him! .
It was such a tantalising conclusion that the time
Judith spent giving Jake his treatment passed in a
daze. Although Lani went out to. the. kitchen and
prepared a fresh jug of iced fruit juice, she was
hardly conscious of what she was doing. And she
was most surprised when she returned to the living
room to find that the physiotherapist had left. Only
Jake was on the verandah, stretched out on the
cushioned divan which Judith made use of for his
massage, and when Lani emerged from the house,
he regarded her through narrowed eyes. He had
shed his shirt and his trousers and was lying there
with a towel draped across his hips. He looked lean
and brown and healthy, and Lani's nails curled into
her palms as she anticipated what must happen
next.

'You look relaxed,' she murmured, tucking her

hands inside the bib of the dungarees to hide their
trembling, but Jake had noticed. With a lithe move-
ment, he swung his feet to the floor, and wrapping
the towel securely about him, he rose to his feet.

'1'11 go and take a shower,' he said, moving pur-

posefully towards the door, and Lani stepped into
his path.

'Not yet,' she breathed, putting out her hand to

touch him, but he neatly side-stepped her fingers.

1 think I must, he retorted smoothly, reaching

the comer of the building. 'Sit down. Take it easy. I
won't be long.' He paused. 'You and I have things
to talk about.'

Lani pressed her lips together. 'Can't we talk

about them now?' she pleaded, taking a step to-
wards him, but Jake shook his head.

'1'm not decent,' he declared, looking down at the

towel, and Lani shook her head.

'You are to me.'

'No, Lani.' he said harshly. 'No, I'm not.' And

without a backward glance, he turned the comer
of. the verandah, disappearing into the building
with unaccustomed speed.

By the time he returned, Lani was feeling de-

cidedly dejected. She had seated herself on the
divan with her back propped against the wall of the
house, but although the sun was still shining, she
was far from contented. Something was wrong, she
told herself fiercely. She knew it. Judith's inoppor-
tune arrival had done more than postpone their
lovemaking. It had destroyed whatever it was that
had brought them together, and Lani's heart was
heavy as Jake emerged from the house.

'Do you want a drink?' he inquired, indicating the

glass in his hand. Lani shook her head, and concen-
trated on the sun spots dancing on the water below
her. She was miserably near to tears, and she was
no longer convinced she could go on as before, if
that was what Jake expected.

Jake considered the contents of his glass and then

set it down on the windowsill behind the divan. He
seemed withdrawn and ill at ease, and Lani won-
dered bitterly what had happened to change his
mood.

When she didn't look up again, he moved to the

rail of the verandah and propped his back against it.
And then, folding his arms, he said quietly, '1 want
you to leave, Lani. Today. Tonight. As soon as
possible. 1 can't trust myself with you any more,
and 1 want you to go.' . .
Lani looked up then, her breath catching m her
throat. 'You ... expect me to go?'

'Yes.' He was adamant.

'But 1 don't want to go.' Faced with the alterna-

tives, Lani knew she would rather do anything than
leave him. 'Before Judith came, we-'

'Before Judith came 1 lost my head.' he declared

bitterly. 'I'm sorry. but you asked for it. What
happened? Did your London boy-friend let you
down or something?'

Lani gasped. '1 don't have a London boy-friend.'

'No?'

'No. You know 1 don't. Jake, what is this a11 about?'

Jake's lips curled. 'That man-Rossiter, he seems

very attentive.’

'Miles is my agent!'

'1 know he's always sending messages. Via Han-

nah, of course.'

Lani couldn't believe this. 'Jake, they were busi-

ness messages. He was concerned about the new
book.'

'Was he?' Jake considered her broodingly.

'Yes.' Lani pushed herself to her feet. 'Jake, are

you jealous?'

'Why should 1 be?' His tone was bleak. '1 ha ve no

exclusive rights to your company.'

Lani shook her head bewilderedly. '1 don't un-

derstand any of this.'

'Don't you?' Jake looked sceptical. 'And 1 sup-

pose throwing your mother' s name into the con-
versation earlier was just accidental, wasn't it?'

Lani sighed. 'My mother has nothing to do with

it.'

'Doesn't she?'

'No.' Lani took a deep breath. 'Jake, can't we talk

about this civilly? We've lived together too long-'

'We have not lived together,' he contradicted her

harshly. 'We have shared the same house, that' s a11.
Oh, 1 realise now 1 was crazy to let you stay here, but
so long as 1 kept my hands off you, you were no real
threat. Then this afternoon-we11, 1 guess you
proved that the need was still there. That 1 hadn't
destroyed it, only subdued it for a while. And 1 can' t
live with that.'

Lani stared at him incredulously. 'Why?'

'Because 1 don't want that kind of arrangement.'

'1 don't believe you.'

'You're going to have to.'

'Jake, you said you cared about me!' .

Jake regarded her coldly. 'Things were different then.'

'How different?'

'1 was still living with the delusion that you cared
about me.'

'But 1 do.' Lani spread her hands. 'You know 1 do.'

‘I’m not talking about pity, Lani.'

'Nor am I!'

'But you didn't feel strongly enough to accept a

permanent relationship!' he stated gnmly.
'A permanent relationship! Lani was confused. 1
don't know what you mean.'
'Of course you do,' he grated angrily. The after-
noon 1 told you the old lady had been here. 1 seem to
remember offering you a partnership you turned down.'

Lani's lips parted. 'You mean ... your p ro p o s a l? ’

'You remember.' He was coldly sardonic.

Lani gulped. 'But you weren't serious.'

'Wasn't I?'

'You said you'd call your grandmother's bluff.'

'1 may have said something of the kind:’

'You know you did.' Lani gazed at him m dismay.

'You knew 1 would refuse on those terms. You
w a ntedme to refuse.'

'Did I?'

'Stop baiting me, Jake. You can't really believe I'd

refuse to marry you.' Her knees shook. 'Why other-
wise would 1 have stayed?'

'I've asked myself that question many times.'

'And?'

'l've found no satisfactory answer until today.'

'Oh, Jak e!'

The tears she had be en fighting back for almost an

hour suddenly overflowed, and turning away she
fumbled desperately for a tissue. It was all too much
for her: the sense of betrayal she had felt when she
had found him playing the piano, the emotional
storm that had followed it, the terrible sense of
anti-climax when Jake left her on the verandah, and
now the unbelievable agony of his sending her
away. She sobbed as if her heart would break, and
the man leaning on the verandah rail gazed at her
averted head in grim frustration.

'God, Lani-' he began, leaving the rail to

approach her, but she pressed herself against the
wall of the house and would not look at him.

It was then that she saw it, the corner of a white

envelope lying on the slats of the verandah, almost
hidden beneath the divan. Half wild with grief, half
blind with tears, she nevertheless bent to retrieve it,
and turning it over, she gazed at it through a haze of
tears. The significance of its postmark might not
have alerted her to the identity of the sender, but
the handwriting was too distinctive to be ignored.
The letter was from her mother, addressed to Jake,
and no doubt delivered by Judith Shelley.

Jake had stopped when she picked up the letter,

and. now when she raised her drowned green eyes
to him, waiting--although she was not consciously
aware of it-for his explanation, he shrugged.

'Read it,' he said flatly, making no attempt to offer

a defence, but Lani threw the envelope on to the
divan, as if by touching it she was contaminating
herself.

'1 don't need to read it,' she choked. '1 can guess
what it says. Somehow, 1 don't know how, Clare's
poisoned your mind against me, hasn't she? After
all this time, you'd still sooner believe her than me?'
'1 don't know what to believe any more.' Jake's
mouth compressed. '1 thought 1 could trust you-'

'And now you don't?' Lani quivered. 'Why?

What has she said? That it wasn't her driving the car
after all? That it was me?'

'Don' t be foolish-'

'What's so foolish? 1 thought 1 could trust you,

and yet now 1 find you've been corresponding with
my mother behind my back.'

'1 have not been corresponding with your

mother.' His tone was harsh. 'What do you think 1
am?'

'I' m beginning to wonder. '

'What do you mean?'

'Well-' Lani spoke recklessly, not stopping to

choose her words. 'It does seem strange that she
should write to you now, doesn't it? Just when
you're beginning to recover. lf 1 wasn't so gullible, 1
might think you had written to her. Asking her to
lend a helping hand!'

'You think that?' His voice was taut.

'Why not?' Lani spoke tremulously. 'She helped

you once before. Why not again?'

Jake's face was set and cold. 'What are you

implying?'

Lani shrugged, bent on a course of self-

destruction without any means of saving herself.
'How do I know why she made you her protégé?
I've only your word that it was a business arrange-
ment. Perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps the terms were
rather more personal. Is that why she's written? To
check on her investment?'

The draught of Jake's passing hand chilled her

cheek, but he did not strike her. At the last moment
he drew back, and his fingers passed harmlessly in
front of her face. But the reason for his anger did not
go away. It remained between them like an im-
penetrable barrier, and Lani knew there was no-
thing more she could say.
'.Get out of my sight!' he said distinctly, and the
quiet words were more terrifying than the heat of
his anger. Now there was no emotion, only cold
determination, and with a helpless sob, she ran into
the house.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

'THIS is nice.' Miles walked around the living room

of the apartment, nodding his approval. 'You've got
good taste. I always knew it. But are you sure you're
going to be happy living here alone?' -

'Oh, I think so.' Lani swung away so that he

should not see her face. Just occasionally, questions
like that still had the power to distress her, but
gradually she was learning to live with herself
again. In less than a moment she was turning to
offer Miles a drink. 'Scotch or sherry,' she said. 'I'm
afraid you don't have a great deal of choice. But the
whisky is a malt one. My father sent it as a kind of
apartment-warming gift.'

Miles accepted the Scotch and lounged on to the

couch, surveying the room again with admiring
eyes. '1 must say you've worked wonders with the
woodwork. It was quite a sickly shade of green, if I
remember correctly.'

'It was only paint, put on over the original grain,'

explained Lani, handing him his drink. '1 simply
stripped the wood back to its natural colour, and
stained it myself.'

'You make it sound easy.' exclaimed Miles ímpa-

tiently. 'You must have spent hours on it.'
'Well, yes, I did.' Lani curled her legs beneath her
on the cushioned rocker she had bought m the
saleroom, remembering with some gratitude how
thankful she had been to work herself to physical
exhaustion after her return from Cornwall. 'But I
enjoyed it. And you must admit, I did have good
materials to work with.'

'Well, yes.' Miles was honest. 'But I can't deny I

wouldn't have preferred you to be working on
another book instead of playing around at do-it-
yourself.'
'1 wasn't playing around.' Lani looked about her
with real satisfaction. 'This is my home, Miles. I'm
going to live here for a long time. 1 wanted it to be as
1 had designed it, not someone else.'

Miles shrugged. 'Oh, well, you've finished now,

haven't you? How long is it since you moved in?
Three weeks, four weeks?'

'It's six weeks actually,' said Lani, sipping the

sherry she had poured for herself. 'Would you like
another Scotch? Or are you hurrying off some-
where?'

Miles grimaced. 'Is that a polite way of saying you

don't want my company for dinner?'

Lani gave a rueful smile. 'Well, I was planning on

having an early night.'

'All right. 1 can take the hint. But I will have

another Scotch, thank you. Before 1 take myself off
to my lonely bachelor pad.'

Lani uncoiled herself and went to pour him

another drink, but this time when she held the glass
out for him to take, he took hold of her wrist
instead. 'How long?' he asked, his eyebrows lifting
in interrogation. 'How long before you thaw out,
ice maiden? It's been nearly two months. You
can't go on like this. Sooner or later, you've got to
crack.'

'Let go of my wrist, Miles.' Lani freed herself with

determination, and after setting down his glass on
the low table beside the couch, she retreated to her
chair. 'That wasn't fair,' she said, after she was
seated again. '1 don't interfere in your life, and you
shouldn't interfere in mine. The Lani you see is the
only Lani there is. Now, can we please tal k about
something else?'

Miles regarded her impatiently. 'Why won't you

talk to me?'

'1 thought that's what we were doing. Talking.'

'You know what I mean.' Miles looked at her over

the rim of his glass. 'Have you seen your mother
yet? You must know she's back in London.'

Lani sighed. 'Miles, I've just asked you-'

'-to mind my own business, yes, I know. But
you are my business, Lani, and you're just burning
yourself up.'

'Me?' Lani forced a short laugh. 'You just said I

hadn' t done any work.'

'That's not what I mean and you know it.' Miles

shook his head. 'Since you carne back from Corn-
wa11 you've been a11 tied up inside yourself, and
unless you let yourself unwind, you're going to
have a nervous breakdown.'

'Oh, thanks.' Lani tilted her head back against the

chair. 'That's a11 I needed to know.'

'Lani, stop it.' Miles swallowed the remainder of

his drink and got to his feet to gaze down at her.
'I've bit my tongue for the past two months, but I'm
damned if I'm going to stand by and watch you
tear yourself to pieces without even trying to stop
you.'

'Oh, rea11y, Miles.' Lani adopted a bored tone,

but he was not deceived.

'1 mean it,' he said. 'I'm not leaving here until you
te11 me what happened in Cornwa11. For God' s sake,
Lani, what did Pendragon do?'

Lani swung her feet to the floor. 'It' s very sweet of

you, Miles, but rea11y, you're dramatising the situa-
tion. My ... relationship with ... with Jake ... is
over. I told you. We agreed to part.'

'Just like that?'

'Just like that.'

'1 don't believe you.'

'That's your prerogative.'

'Lani, stop it!' Miles stood his empty glass on the

table. 'I've known you too long not to be able to te11
when something is wrong. And as your father' s not
doing anything about it, I intend to.'

'Sha11 we leave my father out of this?' Lani drew a

steadying breath and rose to face him. 'Miles, I
know you mean well, but I don't need your help,
honestly. If-if I've been a little ... withdrawn
lately, we11, I suppose that's because I've be en
working so hard to get the apartment straight. Once
I get back to work ... ' She forced a smile. 'Give me
time.'

'The story of my Iife,' muttered Miles bitterly, and

when she arched an inquiring brow, he grimaced.
'Giving you time,' he explained. 'Time to see your
mother-time to spend with your father-time to
get over Pendragon' s accident-time to kill your-
self, perhaps?'

Lani flushed. 'Don't be silly.'

'It' s not silly to try and stop someone from hurt-

ing themselves, is it?'

'Miles, I'm not hurting myself!'

'No.' He regarded her dourly. '1 should imagine

Pendragon' s done a pretty good job in that direc-
tion.'

'Oh, Miles!'

'Isn't it true?'

Lani bent her head. '1 think you' d better go.'

'Why? Because I'm getting near the truth?'

'Yes! No! I mean-oh, Miles, stop badgering me!'

She looked at him wearily. 'Can't you see, I don't
want to talk about it.'

'And can't you see that you must?' -he countered

fiercely. 'And there is no one else, is there? Except
Robin, and somehow I doubt you' d burden him
with your troubles.'

Lani closed her eyes for a moment, and then

opened them again. 'What do you want me to te11
you?' she asked. 'You know what happened. Jake
and I had a row. I left. End of story.'

'Is it?' Miles expelled his breath impatiently. 'Are

you going to te11 me you don't love him any more?
That there's hope for me yet?'

Lani moved her head from side to side. '1 don't

want to talk about my feelings.'
'Why not? If they're so clean-cut?'

'They're not.' Lani uttered a little groan and sank

down into the rocking chair again. 'All right, a11
right. My feelings for Jake haven't changed, but ...
well, I found out my mother had been writing to
him.'

'Clare?'

'Yes.' Lani lay back tiredly. 'Don't ask me why,

because I don't know. I only know Jake was pre-
pared to take her word before mine, and-and I
lost my temper and said so me things I shouldn't
have.'

Miles frowned. 'And you walked out?'

'He asked me to leave.'

'He askedyou to?'

'All right. He threw me out!' Lani was ironic. '1

didn't even stop to collect my belongings. He sent
them on later.'

'And that was the last you heard from him?'

'Apart from the piece of music he sent me, yes.'

Miles blinked. 'A piece of music! What piece of

music?'

'Oh-' Lani was weary. 'It was a piece he had

written. 1-1 had admired it. I thought he might get
it published. He didn't think it was any good.'
'And he sent it to you? Why?'

'1 don't know. Perhaps because he thought I

wasn't any good either.'

'Didn' t you ask him?'

'No.' Lani pressed her lips together. 'He didn't

expect me to. He sent no letter or anything. Just the
piece of manuscript, in an envelope, on its own.

Miles shook his head. 'How strange!'

'Yes.' Lani nodded. She had thought so, too,

when she had opened it, until time and lack of
confidence had convinced her he did not expect any
response.

'So ... where is it?'

Lani looked up at him. 'Why?'

'1' d like to see it.'

Lani made a sound of impatience. 'Why?'

'Because I would. You say it's good. I have a

friend in the business who might know.'

'It's not classical music.'

'My friend doesn't deal in classical music.'

Lani hesitated. 'I'm not sure I should.'

'Why not? He sent it to you. It's yours. And you
thought it was good enough to be published.'

'1 know 1 did, but-'

'But what?'

'Well, 1 may be no judge.'

Miles gave her an old-fashioned look. 'What' s the

matter? Does it have sentimental value?'

Lani sighed. 'What if it does?' She considered a

moment and then got to her feet. 'Just a minute.'

The scored sheet of manuscript looked quite

ordinary when she gave it to Miles, but he handled
it with unexpected reverence. 'Concerto,' he said,
nodding towards the word Jake had scribbled in the
top left corner of the page. 'What does that mean?
You said it wasn't cIassical.'

'It's not.' Lani shrugged, looking over his shoul-

der. 'Perhaps that was his title for it.'

'Hmm.' Miles looked reflective. 'Well, it might

just prove suitable, after all. Concerto! It has a
certain appeal.'

Lani drew back. 'You won' t lose it, will you?'

'No.' Miles rolled the sheet into a tube and tapped
it significantly. 'I'll photocopy this at the office and
let you ha ve it back. I'll give Danny the copy.'
'Danny?'

'This chap 1 know in the music business. Leave it

with me, Lani. Even if nothing comes of it, you can't
lose anything, can you?'

Two days later, Lani was in the make-shift studio

she had designed for herself, arranging her books
and artistic equipment, when her doorbell rang. It
was noon, and she had be en just about to make
herself a cup of coffee and a sandwich, and she
hoped her visitor, whoever it was, wouldn't stay
too long. She had planned to make a real effort to
get down to work this afternoon, and a prolonged
interruption would disrupt her schedule.

The apartment was quite spacious, one of the

reasons why Lani had taken it in the first place, and
the doorbell rang again as she was crossing the
living room. Beyond the tall bay windows, Kilburn
A venue was bathed in the warmth of an unusually
mild September, but already the leaves were turn-
ing yellow on the trees, and here and there a bare
branch bore witness to the storms that had lashed
the south coast for the past week.

'Mother!'

Lani' s instinctive reaction to the elegantly-clad

woman waiting outside was more revealing than
she knew, and Clare regarded her impatiently be-
fore stepping across the threshold. '1 won't wait for
you to invite me in, darling,' she said, ignoring her
daughter's shocked face. 'So this is your little hide-
away. How quaint!'

Lani gathered her senses and rather than expose

their conversation to careless ears, she closed the
door. 'What do you want, Mother?' she asked,
supporting herself against the panels. 'Did Father
send you here? He had no right to give you my
address.'

'Oh, don't be silly, darling.' Clare sauntered

casually across the dark blue carpet, surveying her
surroundings with negligent interest. 'We are re-
lated, albeit unwillingly. And 1 wanted to see you.
It's not so unusual. 1 care about you.'

'Don' t let' s pretend, Mother.' Lani pushed her-

self away from the door, running the palms of her
hands down the seams of her trousers. In a paint-
daubed smock and worn jeans, she was painfully
aware of how her appearance compared with
Clare's sophisticated elegance, and even the attrac-
tive furnishings of the living room suffered beneath
her mother' s critical appraisal. 'Why have you come
here? We have nothing to say to one another.'

'1 disagree.' Clare dropped the soft jacket she was

wearing on to the couch and looked around. 'May I
sitdown?'

Lani hesitated, but she knew she couldn't really

refuse, and with a resigned gesture, she nodded. 'If
you must. I was just about to have some coffee. Do
you want some?'

'Oh, nothing for me, darling.' Clare shuddered,

as if the thought of food or drink was anathema to
her. 'But you have something by all means. You
look as if you need it. You' re so thin!'

Lani carne round the couch, but she didn't sit

beside her mother. Instead she perched on the arm,
regarding her tensely, waiting with a sense of
apprehension for Clare to go on.

'Your father tells me you've been living here for

almost two months,' she remarked at last, and Lani
inclined her head. 'Since you carne back from Corn-
wall, wasn't it?' Clare added. 'Why didn't you go
home?'

'1 didn't want to live at home,' replied Lani stiffly.

'1 thought it was time I had my own place. I realise
this may not seem very fashionable to you, but I like
it.'

'Well, it's hardly the Ritz, is it, darling?' Clare's

lips curled. 'But I suppose it does have a bohemian
charm, if you like that kind of thing.'

'1 do.'

'Good.' Clare crossed her silk-clad legs and re-

laxed against the cushions. 'I'm glad you're happy.'
She paused. '1 knew that infatuation you had for
Jake wouldn't last.'

'Did you?' Lani swallowed the constriction in her

throat. 'And 1 suppose you had nothing to do with
that, either.'

'Me!' Clare looked dismayed. 'I'm sure you can't

blame me for the mess you've made of your life. Be
thankful you've come out of it unscathed. It could
have proved awkward.'

'Awkward?'

'Well, yes.' Clare spread her hands. '1 mean, what

you did was foolhardy, wasn't it? Forcing yourself
on him. Oh, yes-' this as Lani's jaw sagged '-he
told me what happened. How you insisted on
staying, even though you knew there was no future
in it. I did warn you, Lani. Jake's not the marrying
kind. And what would you have done if you' d
become pregnant?'

Laní opened her mouth to contradict her, and

then closed it again. Clare would learn nothing from
her, she told herself fiercely. If Jake chose to tell her
how they had lived for the three months she was at
the Sea House, that was his affair. Evidently he
hadn't done so yet, or Clare would not be here
probing her daughter' s feelings.'

'Is t hat all?' she asked now, and Clare gave an

impatient gesture.

'No, it's not all,' she declared. 'I wanted you to be

the first to know that I've offered to take Jake under
my wing again. His hands have recovered beyond
anyone's belief, and although it may be months-
years--before he can play professionally again, I
firmly believe that can happen. There' s an
osteopath in Switzerland, who has had consider-
able success in the treatment of athletes, You may
remember the long jumper who broke his leg, Mar-
tin Adler? Well, Dr Heinrich has treated him, and
now they're saying he'll be joining the next Olympic
team. He's very clever. Heinrich, I mean. And, of
course, Jake will have plenty of time for practice. I
shall take a house there, so he doesn't have to live in
an hotel, and of course 1 shall join him whenever my
commitments permit me.'

Lani had sat silent throughout her mother's

speech, her taut features registering little emotion,
and now Clare's mouth took on a petulant slant.
'Well?' she exclaimed. 'Don't you have anything to
say? 1 thought you might have found it in your heart
to be grateful to me. After all, I am restoring what
was taken away.'

'What you took away, Mother.' Lani's face was

naturally pale, so that the blood draining out of her
cheeks was less noticeable, and Clare was unaware
of the strain it had be en to speak at all.

'Oh, really!' she exelaimed irritably. 'What hap-

pened ... happened. It was an accident, an appal-
ling accident. I drove recklessly, I've admitted it.
But I was almost out of my mind with grief-'

'With jealousy,' insisted Lani doggedly. 'You

knew Jake and I had been together. You hated
that!'

'All right.' Clare gave up trying to humour her.

'All right, I was jealous. Why not? Jake belonged to
me, not you.'

'People don't belongto anybody, Mother!'

'That's a naive interpretation. Jake and I were

lovers.'

'No!'

'Of course we were.' Clare regarded her pitying-

ly. 'Did he tell you we weren't? Well, I might have
expected it. You were always such a prudish crea-
ture, weren't you?'

Lani rose to her feet and pointed towards the door

with a shaking finger. '1 want you to leave, Mother.
Now. This minute. I don't have to listen to your lies
in my own home.'

'Líes?' Clare arched her painted brows. 'If you

really believed 1 was lying, you wouldn't be throw-
ing me out.'

Lani's hand fell to her side. 'You don't care about

anyone but yourself, do you?'

'Nonsense. I care about lots of things.'

'Do you care about Jake?'

'Of course I do. Or I shouldn't be going to so

much expense for him, should I?'

'1 don't know.' Lani' s head was throbbing, and

she knew she would get no work done today. Then,
despising herself for the question, she asked, 'Just
tell me what you wrote to Jake in that letter. What
lies did you tell him about me?'

'What a fetish you have about lies, Lani. I

didn't tell Jake any lies. I simply told him the truth,
that's all. Something you had evidently omitted to
do.'

'The truth?' Lani looked blank. 'What truth?'

'About your father, of course. Oh, it took me

some time to think of it, but eventually I guessed
you had been protecting Roger. It's like you.'

'Protecting him? How?'

'By not telling Jake that it was he who drove me to

take such desperate measures.'

Lani stared at her. 'But 1 assumed Jake knew. 1

was sure you had told him.'

'I'm afraid not.' Gathering her jacket and hand-

bag, Clare rose smoothly to her feet to face her
daughter. '1 believe it carne as quite a shock to
him-Jake, 1 mean-particularly when 1 explained
that you had felt-what shall 1 say-responsible for
what happened.'

Lani' slips trembled and she pressed them

together to hide her emotion before articulating
tightly, 'You mean you let Jake think that 1 was
hiding it from him?'

'Well, weren't you?'

'No!'

'Oh, well ... ' Clare shrugged and walked deli-

cately to the door. 'It doesn' t matter now, does it? In
the circumstances, it' s probably the best thing that
could have happened. Your ... affair wasn't get-
ting anywhere, was it? You did the right thing by
walking out. You've saved yourself a lot of heart-
ache.'

Lani shook her head. 'Why did you involve me in

your life? Why didn't you just forget 1 ever existed?'

'Oh!' Clare opened the door, and then turned to

look at her. "That was Elwyn's idea, not mine. You
know how he sentimentalises about family rela-
tionships. He thought it would be good publicity for
us to be seen together.' .

Lani caught her breath. ' And that was all it was?'
'What else? 1 was never the maternal type. But, of
course, you know that, don't you, darling?'

CHAPTER TWENTY

By the time Miles showed up some days later, Lani

had managed to push her mother' s intrusion into
her life to the back of her mind. She hadn' t forgotten
it, she hadn't even tried to do so. But she had
succeeded in convincing herself that nothing good
could come from brooding over it, and she had
herself in control again.

Nevertheless, the memory of the things Clare had

said had given her some sleepless nights, and the
dark circ1es round her eyes only accentuated her
pallor. She was taut and brittle, like a finely drawn
piece of glass, and although she told herself she
would feel better once she started working again,
the urge to create was proving elusive.

Miles' first reaction was one of concern for her

appearance. 'What the hell have you been doing
with yourself?' was his way of putting it, and Lani
quickly turned away to ask why he had come.

'Do 1 ha ve to have a reason?' he demanded,

closing the door behind him. 'If you refuse to
answer your telephone, what else am 1 to do?'

Lani flushed. 'Was that you who rang? 1 was

afraid it might be Mother. She carne here a few days
ago, and l' d rather not speak to her again.'

'Like that, was it?' Miles grimaced. 'Why doesn't

she leave you alone? Can't she see she's only wast-
ing her time?'

Lani didn't want to talk about Clare, and subsid-

ing on to the couch, she looked up at him with

determined brightness. 'Well, ' she said. '1 can't
believe you've nothing better to do than visit me in
the middle of the afternoon. What's the matter?
Don't tell me the publishers are screaming for
another manuscript!'

'Well, I've no doubt they would if they thought

there was one in the offing,' remarked Miles, seat-
ing himself on the chair opposite and pulling a roll
of paper out of his pocket. 'But actually, this is why I
carne.' He handed the roll of paper to her. 'To return
this manuscript.'

'Oh.' Lani was relieved. 'The music! What hap-

pened? Did Danny-that was his name, wasn't
it-did he like it?'

Miles lay back in his chair and crossed one ankle

over his knee. 'Yes,' he said smugly. 'Yes, as a
matter of fact he liked it very much. As a matter of
fact, he wants to know if Pendragon has written
anything else.'

Lani stiffened. 'Why are you asking me?'

'Well, it did cross my mind that you might know.'

Lani shook her head. 'You'll have to ask him,' she
said tautly. 'It's nothing to do with me.'

'All right.' Miles lifted an appeasing hand. '1 told

Danny I didn't think you'd want to get involved.
Not with anything else anyway.'

'What do you mean?'

'That,' said Miles, pointing at the paper in her

hand. 'Danny thinks he might know a band who'd
record it.'

'A band!' Lani stared at him. 'You mean--electric

organs, guitars, that sort of thing?'

'You've got it. Of course, it won't sound exactly

like it did when Pendragon played it, but Danny
thinks we could have a winner.'

Lani shook her head. '1 can't believe it. It's not
that easy.'

'Lani, in all things, luck plays the predominant

part. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And,' he
shrugged, 'let's face it, it isn't always what you
know, but who! I'm lucky. Danny Apollo is a friend
of mine. This little concerto went straight to the
man!'

Lani blinked. 'Danny Apollo!' Even she had

heard of Apollo Records.

'1 knew you' d be pleased.' Miles uncrossed his

legs and leant towards her, his elbows resting on his
knees. 'So what do you say? Are you going to give
him the go-ahead?'
'Me?' Lani shrank back in alarm. 'Miles, this is
nothing to do with me. It's .. it's Jake's composí-
tion, not mine.'

'But he sent it to you.'

'I know.'

'You mean you're going to refuse?'

Lani pressed the piece of manuscript to her chest.

'1-1 can't make that decision.'

Miles gave an impatient snort. 'All right. Then

we'll just have to contact Pendragon himself, won't
we? As you say, it is his composition. I'm sure he
won't be as reluctant as you are.' He shook his
head incredulously. 'Do you have any idea
how much this could gross? If it makes the top
ten-'

'Don't Miles.' Lani shuddered convulsively. '1

don't think you understand. I-Clare-Clare carne
to tell me that-that Jake is going to work with her
again. She' s found a specialist in Switzerland,
someone who is willing to work with Jake and help
him recover his piano-playing abilities. In a matter
of months, maybe a year or so, he' s hoping to return
to the concert platform. I don't think he'll be in-
terested in writing . . . this kind of music, do
you?'

Miles pressed his hands down on his knees and

got to his feet. 'You mean, even after what hap-
pened-'

'Yes, yes.' Lani was sick of thinking about it. 'So

you see-'

'He must be crazy!'

'Or ambitious,' said Lani quietly. 'Now, please,

can we talk about something else?'

Kilburn High Street was busy on Saturday after-

noons, and Lani usually managed to avoid it. But
for the past few weeks she had been finding it very
hard to co-ordinate her thoughts to her actions, and
at three o' dock that afternoon, she had realised she
hadn't a scrap of food in the apartment. With the
prospect of the weekend ahead, she knew she had
to make some kind of an effort, particularly as Robin
and Sarah had promised to call on Sunday. In
consequence, she had pulled on a shabby sleeveless
waistcoat over her shirt and jeans, and securing her
hair with a leather thong, she had hurried down to
the supermarket. She seldom used the car for these
expeditions. It was so much easier to walk and
avoid the frustration of finding somewhere to park,
and unless she had a lot to carry, she generally
enjoyed the exercise.

Walking back along Kilburn Avenue, she

reflected that she was not particularly looking for-
ward to Robin' s and Sarah' s visit the following day.
Sarah' s eyes were far too sharp, and lately she spent
much of the time they were together scolding Lani
for not looking after herself better. Lani knew her
admonishments were well meant, but the connota-
tions were still too painful to be ignored, and she
was dreading the possibility that her cousin and his
wife might ha ve learned of Clare' s intentions from
the media. Lani herself had avoided reading news-
papers since Clare's visit. She did not want to read
about her mother's new crusade.

She was walking along with her head down and

therefore she had almost reached her gate before
she saw the car parked at the kerb outside. It was a
dark green car, sleek and low-slung, and with
quickening heartbeats, she saw the man propped
against the wing.

Her first instinctive reaction was to turn and run,

but that was quickly stifled. She had nothing to fear
from him after all, she thought, her lips tightening
indignantly. He had no right to come here. No right
at all. And she would swiftly tell him so.

'Lani.'

His greeting was accompanied by his pushing

himself up and away from the car, and she couldn't
help observing how much more easily he moved
now. Without any previous knowledge, she would
never have guessed that six months ago he had
been incapable of dragging himself about without
the aid of crutches, when now he looked so fit and
well. Unlike herself, she reflected bitterly, compar-
ing her hollow-eyed frailty to his musded strength.
In narrow-fitting black cords and a matching black
silk shirt, he looked as attractive as he had done the
first time she saw him, and only the lines etched
beside his mouth and nose revealed that perhaps he
still found walking painful.
'Jake.' Her use of his name was clipped and
offhand. 'What are you doing here?'

Jake's mouth compressed. 'Oh, I think you'll be

able to work that out for yourself,' he remarked
drily. 'This is where you live, isn't it?' He looked up
at the windows of the house. 'Which floor do you
occupy?'

'The first.' Lani replied stiffly. 'The house is di-

vided into eight apartments. Two in the basement,
two on the ground floor, two on the first floor,
and-'

'1 get the picture.' Jake moved towards the gate.

'5hall we go in?'

'No.' Lani stood her ground, even though her bag

was heavy and her arm was aching. '1 don't know
why you've come here, Jake, but l' d rather you
didn't come in. We have nothing left to say to one
another, and quite honestly-'

'Lani!' He expelled his breath heavily. 'Yo u don't

really think I'm going to take that from you, do you?
Now, you carne to my house and I let you in. Don't
you think you owe me the same privilege?'

'That was different.' Lani's lips quivered. '1 col-

lapsed on your doorstep. You had no choice.'

'And would you like me to do that?' Jake's tawny

eyes challenged hers. '1 could, quite easily. Driving
up here wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, and
quite honestly my leg is aching pretty badly.'

'Jake!' Lani cast a helpless look about her and then

turned to him again. 'Jake, why are you doing this?

Why do you want to see me? I-Clare' s already told

me what you're going to do. If you think explana-
tions are necessary, forget it. It-it's over. I ... I'm
glad it's turned out so well for you.'

'Can we go inside?' Jake spoke doggedly, but

there was weariness in his tone now, and Lani
gazed at him despairingly.

'Oh, all right,' she conceded, despising herself for

giving in to him, and pulling her keys out of her
pocket, she preceded him up the path to the front
door of the house.

Inside, the cloisterlike gloom of the hall en-

veloped them and, reminded of other occasions,
Lani refused his offer to carry her bag and ran
hurriedly up the stairs. By the time he reached the
first floor, she had unlocked her door, and she
hastened across the living room to the kitchen to
deposit her shopping bag.

Although she tried to compose herself, she was

still in a state of some agitation when she returl\.ed
to the living room, and it didn't help to find Jake had
made himself at home in her absence. He was now
comfortably ensconced on her couch, and she hov-
ered nervously in the doorway, unsure whether or
not to offer him refreshment.

'Would you like a drink?' she asked at last, glanc-

ing awkwardly over her shoulder. '1 only have
sherry, I'm afraid, or coffee.'

'1 don't want anything,' replied Jake quietly.

'Come and sit down.' He patted the couch beside
him. '1 want to talk to you.'

Lani moistened her dry lips. 'Look, Jake-'

'1 said come and sit down,' he repeated with

solemn insistence. 'You look as if you need it. N ow,
1 realise 1 may be responsible for the way you look,
but I'm trying to make amends-'

'What?' Lani gazed at him in horror. 'What did

you say? That ... that you may be responsible for
the way 1 look?' She caught her breath. 'Who told
you that? My mother?' She shook her head. 'My
God! You've got a bloody nerve-~

'Cool it, Lani!' Reluctantly, Jake got to his feet

again, and started towards her. 'Look, I'm doing
this badly-'

'Yes, you are!' Lani was trembling with a mixture

of anger and despair-anger, that he should think
he could come here and appease her with a few
words of apology, and despair for the fleeting, but
unquenchable, hope she had had that perhaps
Clare had been lying after all. '1 think you' d better
go. Your ... your mistress has explained the situa-
tion very satisfactorily, and-'

'She' s not my mistress!' Overcoming without dif-

ficulty Lani's frantic efforts to keep him at bay, Jake
lunged towards her, grasping her arms and jerking
her towards him. 'For Christ's sake, Lani, we don't
have to go through all that again, do we?' One hand
encircled her throat, forcing her face up to his. '1
wanted to do this properly, 1 wanted to tell you how
it really is before we got this far, but you leave me no
choice!' and taking advantage of her open-mouthed
frustration, he lowered his head to hers.

Fighting him desperately, Lani's teeth closed on

his lips until she could taste his blood in her mouth,
but still he would not let her go. With grim persist-
ence, his mouth possessed and ravaged hers, his
tongue making its own exploration, until weakness
and her own inherent need of him turned panic into
passion. Her nails, which had be en raking his
shoulders through the fine silk of his shirt, now dug
helplessly into his taut flesh, and her legs crumpled
as she yielded against him.

As if sensing her submission, his lips softened,

and now his probing tongue was frankly sensuous.
His hands slid over her shoulders to her waist,
sliding beneath the loose waistcoat and separating
her shirt from her trousers so that his hands could
spread against the quivering skin of her spine. With
infinite gentleness, his mouth moved against hers,
depositing kisses on the upper lip and the lower and
at each corner, before returning to possess its parted
sweetness. With unquestionable expertise, he was
seducing her to a state of total surrender, and Lani's
senses stirred in latent desperation.

'You-you bastard!' she moaned, dragging her

mouth from his and turning her head away, but
Jake was not prepared to let her escape so easily.

'Why am 1 a bastard!' he demanded, gripping her

nape with one hand and controlling her flailing fists
with the other. 'Wasn't it you who scorned m e for
believing Clare' s lies? Yet you seem incredibly eager
to believe her now!'

'Stop trying to change the subject!' she cried,

twisting desperately against him. 'What do you
want from me, Jake? What kind of a man are you?
You don't want me. You sent me away. Why have
you come back now when you must know that
anything between us is finished?'

'You don't believe that, any more than 1 do,' he

retorted harshly. 'If you' d only give me a chance to
explain-'

'Explain?' she interrupted him tremulously. 'Ex-

plain what? Why you've decided to accept Clare's
offer? Why you're going to go and live in Switzer-
land-'

'1 am not going to live in Switzerland!' he grated,

but Lani was not listening to him.

'What's the matter, Jake? Is your conscience

pricking you? Well, don't let it. I should have
realised all along I was only second best!'

Her freedom carne as a complete surprise to her,

and she swayed unsteadily when he suddenly gave
up the struggle and let her go. One minute she was
fighting to keep him away from her and the next he
had turned his back on her and was walking to-
wards the couch. She noticed almost inconsequent-
ly that he favoured one leg more than the other, and
when he reached the cushioned seat, he lowered
himself on to it with a weariness that was almost her
undoing.

'What are you doing?' she exclaimed, aware that

unless she sustained the momentum of her anger,
she was in real danger of giving in to him yet again.
'You can't stay here. I... I have work to do. Oh,
Jake, why are you tormenting me like this? What
do you want me to say? What do you want me to
do?'

Jake looked up at her steadily. 'Marry me,' he

said, without emphasis, and she clutched the back
of the rocking chair for its support.

'Wh-what did you say?' she murmured faintly,

unable to believe what she had heard, and Jake
repeated his startling suggestion.

'Marry me,' he said, still sitting on the edge of the

couch, his legs parted, his hands hanging loosely
between, almost as if they were discussing the

weather, and Lani moved her head incredulously

from side to side.

'It-it' s cruel to tease people,' she got out at last. '1

think you' d better go. If this is so me clever scheme
you've dreamed up with my mother...'

'For God's sake, forget about your mother!'

snarled Jake, showing some emotion at last. 'You
asked me what I wanted of you, and I've told you.
Now, I'd advise you to consider your answer care-
fully, because goddammit, I may never have the
nerve to ask you again!'

"The nerve?' Lani found she couldn't sustain his

stare. 'Jake, please-'

'Oh, Lani!' He pushed himself to his feet again,

'Okay, 1 '1 1say it once more: I want you to marry me.
There, is that convincing enough for you? If not, I
don't know how else I can say it. I've tried to show
you how I feel, but you won't let me touch you!'

Lani gulped. 'But I don't understand. What about

Clare?'

'What about Clare?' he demanded flatly.

'But-you know. She told me she' s going to help
you return to your career o She told me there' s some
doctor in Switzerland who can help youo Isn't that
true?'

'That there' s a doctor in Switzerland who can

possibly help me? Maybe.' Jake shrugged, but as
Lani's mouth drew down, he hastened on. 'But, if
you'd be en listening to me, you' d know that I have
no intention of going to Switzerland.'

Lani quivered. 'But Clare said ...'

'I can imagine,' he put in forcefully, 'I'm sure she

said a lot of things, most of which were pure fabrica-
tion.'

Lani wouldn' t let herself believe this. 'You mean

. . . she hasn' t been to see you?'

'Oh, yes.' Jake inclined his head. 'Oh, yes, she

carne to see me. At my invitation, I might add.'

'At your invitation?' Lani looked troubled.

'Yes.' Jake sighed. 'Do you want to hear this? Or

am 1 merely wasting my time and yours?'

Lani lifted her shoulders uncertainly. 'l. . . want

to hear.'

'Okay.' Jake nodded to the couch behind him.

'Do you want to sit down?'

'There?'

'Why not?' His lips twisted. 'Or do you still not

trust me?'
Lani hesitated. 'No, l-oh, all right. Why not?'
She circled the rocking chair and carne to take a seat
on the couch, being sure to put some distance
between where she was now sitting and where
he was standing. However, Jake moved along
the couch before sitting down, and when he did
so, she could not prevent her thigh from brushing
his.

'All right?' he said, turning to look at her, and she

drew back against the flowered upholstery, over-
whelmingly conscious of the effect he was having
on her.

'All right,' she agreed breathily, and half turning

towards her, he began.

'You remember the letter you saw?' he asked, and

Lani wondered if she would ever forget it. 'Well, 1
guess Clare has told you what was in it.' Lani
nodded, and he continued: 'So try to imagine how 1
felt reading it. It wasn't easy being told that the only
reason you' d come to Cornwall was because your
mother had begged you to do it.'

'What?' Lani was aghast, and Jake sighed.

'You said you knew what was in the letter,' he

reminded her quietly, but Lani only went on shak-
ing her head.

'You don't understand,' she exclaimed. 'Clare

didn't tell me that. She ... she said you were mad
because she' d confessed that my father had driven
her to ... to do what she did.'

'Your father?'

'Yes. Oh ... ' Lani made a helpless gesture. 'You

might as well know, my father went to see my
mother that night, after she arrived back from
Milan. He ... he told her we were together. He was
trying to persuade her that she was wasting her
time with you.'

Jake frowned. 'You're talking about the night we

were injured?'

'Yes.' Lani nodded.

'But I know that.' Jake looked perplexed. '1-

Clare told me about your father a couple of days
after the accident, when she forced her way into my
room at the hospital. 1 was in no state to stop her,
and the staff were taken in by her tears and her
undoubted remorse. I'm sure she regretted what
she' d done the minute it was over, but it was too late
then.'

Lani blinked. 'Then ... then what ... ?'

'I'm trying to tell you,' he stated, unable to resist

the temptation to finger an errant strand of hair
bobbing by her ear. 'Lani, did you or did you not
come down to Cornwall because Clare asked you
to?'

'1 did not!' Lani was vehement. 'As a matter of

fact, she told me not to go. She said I was wasting
my time.'

'That figures.' Jake's mouth took on a sensual

slant. 'So why did you come?'

'You know why.' Lani looked away from him.

'Jake, if this is-'

'Stop jumping to conc1usions,' he stopped her

huskily, and the fingers which had previously been
toying with her hair now lightly brushed her cheek.
'Let me tell you how it was, hmm?'

Lani licked her lips. 'If you must.'

'Oh, I must,' he told her gently. 'Even though

what I really want to do is something much more
satisfying.'

'Jake!'

She turned to look at him then, half in trembling,

half in protest, and unable to prevent himself, he
ran his fingers over her mouth, stroking her lips
apart and probing the moistness within.

'Okay,' he said, when at last she summoned the

courage to push his fingers away. 'Well, you know
how it was when you first carne to the Sea House. I
wanted you, you know that, but it didn't seem fair
to put that upon you. I mean-hell, I was little more
than an invalid, and I was pretty sure, even then,
that you were motivated by pity-'

'No!'

Lani could not let him say that, and his hand
closed possessively over her knee as he acknow-
ledged her protest. '1 think I know that now,' he
said huskily. 'But right then I was feeling pretty
sorry for myself, and I guess it was easier to believe
that than take the responsibility for someone else's
feelings.'

'But you didn't throw me out,' Lani murmured

unwillingly, and he gave her a wry smile.

'How could I? I was sick with jealousy every time

you carne up to London to see that chap, Rossiter.'
'So you tried to drive me away?'

'Well ... ' He paused. '1 guess I thought if you got

sick of me I could always consol myself with the
thought that you didn't really care about me after
all.'

Lani shook her head. '1 can't take this in ... '
'Why not? Don't you believe me? Can you think
of any other reason why I should let you stay there?
Particularly after you let my grandmother inter-
fere?'

Lani shook her head. 'But the physiotherapy has

helped you!'

'1 know that now.' Jake sighed. 'Honey, try to put

yourself in my position, will you? There was 1, a
physical wreck, with no foreseeable chance of re-
habilitation, and there was this beautiful girl I was
crazy about, throwing her future away on a cripple!'
He groaned. '1 was pig-headed, I know that, but
right after the crash, I didn't believe in miracles any
more.'

'Oh, Jake!'

'It's true.' He looked rueful. 'Look, when your

mother found me in that nightclub in California, I
started to believe there were such things as fairy
godmothers, after all. But we all know how that
turned out, and I guess I wasn't in the market for
more self-destruction.'

'1 thought you blamed me . . . I thought you

hated me.'

'Hated you?' Jake raised his eyes heavenward for

a moment. 'Oh, love, you have no idea how hard it
was for me to keep away from you.'

Lani shivered. 'And the letter?'

'Ah, yes. The letter.' Jake grimaced. 'That was
perfect timing on Clare' s part, had she but known
it. '

'It was?'

'Yes.' Jake sighed. 'I'd almost decided to confide

my feelings to you-he11, if Judith hadn't arrived as
she did, l' d have thrown caution to the winds and
taken my chances. You' d already discovered 1 was
playing around on the piano again. Given time, 1
was pretty sure 1 could improve that ability, and 1
desperately wanted to share that with you. But you
know what happened. Clare' s letter arrived, and 1
guess 1 was sti11 too suspicious of anyone' s motives
to consider it reasonably. 1 just blew my top, like the
fool 1 am, and you walked out.'

'You ordered me to leave!' Lani protested, and

Jake gave her a wry look.

'Not for the first time,' he reminded her gently.

'Why did you obey me then and not before?'

Lani uttered a husky laugh. '1 suppose ... 1

suppose because it was Clare who had written to
you,' she confessed, and he nodded. 'But why did
you ask her to come and see you?'

'Because 1 knew 1 had to convince her once and

for a11 that so far as she and 1 were concerned, our
association was over.'

'But she carne to see me ... '

'Afterwards?' Jake nodded. '1 guessed she would.

She's a vindictive lady, your mother. Having failed
with me, 1 suppose she had to make one last attempt
with you.'

. 'But ... ' Lani hesitated. 'Did you te11 her 1 stayed
in Cornwa11 against your will?'

'Yes.' Jake frowned. 'As 1 reca11 it, she made this

thing about persuading you to come and look after
me, and 1 explained that if that was the only reason
you had come, you' d been pretty slow in accepting
my dismissal.'

'Oh!' Lani breathed more easily. 'And then?'

'She left.' Jake sighed. 'Oh, there were threats

and recriminations, but we both knew they had no
substance. Our relationship was never an emotion-
al one. Whatever she may have told you.'

'1 believe it.' And Lani knew she did. 'But why did
you wait so long?'

'To come here?' Jake's fingers caressed her thigh

with disturbing insistence. 'We11, 1 had to prove
something to myself, you see. 1 sent you that piece
of music so you might begin to understand, but
when you didn't reply ... '

'Did you expect me to?'

'1 hoped,' he conceded honestly. 'But anyway,

perhaps it was as we11 you didn't. That way, 1
wasn't diverted. 1 was obliged to go ahead with an
idea you had given me.'

'Me?'

'Yes, you.' He regarded her possessively. 'The

music? Remember?'

Lani stared at him. 'You mean-you sent it to a

publisher?'

'We11, not the piece 1 sent you,' he told her softly.

'But others, yes.'

Lani gasped. 'And?'

'It helps to have friends in the business,' he

admitted modestly.

Lani shook her head. 'Not-Danny Apollo!'

'No. Cliff Collins.' Jake paused. '1 met him while 1

was in the States. He carne in the club one night just
after I' d met Clare, and heard me playing some-
thing of my own. He said if ever l ... well, if ever 1
wanted to move into that side of the business, 1
should contact him.' He shrugged. 'But you know
how it is. People say things. And 1 guess 1 didn't
really hold out much hope, but-' He gave her a
rueful grimace. 'He liked the two songs 1 sent him,
and what do you know? He' s going to record one of
them himself.'

'Oh, Jake!' Lani caught her breath. Cliff Collins

was one of the most popular New Wave singers in
America.

'I know. Good, isn't it?' he conceded, and she saw

the faint surge of colour that darkened his cheeks.
'So ... what do you say? Can you forgive me for
... well, for everything?'

'Oh, Jake, you've always known 1 loved you!'

'Loved?'His features sobered. 'Past tense?'

'Past tense, present tense, future tense,' said Lani

with a little shudder, and unable to resist the caress-
ing touch of his fingers any longer, she looped her
arms around his neck and drew him towards her.
'Kiss me, Jake.' she breathed. 'Kiss me, please! 1
promise 1 won't stop you this time . . .'

'So this is your bedroom,' murmured Jake, some

time later, turning on to his back to survey the high
moulded ceiling. 'Very nice.' He turned his head on
the pillow to look at her. 'You'll forgive my earlier
negligence, I'm sure. But a little while ago, 1 was in
no fit state to admire the decor--only its occupant.'

Lani gave a tremulous smile, still scarcely able to

believe this was happening, and as if sensing her
bemusement, Jake rolled on to his side again and
drew her close to him.

'Good, hmm?' he murmured, pushing back the

damp strands of hair from her temple. 'But so pale!
We must do something about that. How does Tahiti
sound to you? 1 thought we might spend part of our
honeymoon there. And then, we've an invitation to
visit Cliff in California, if the idea appeals to you.'

'Oh, Jake!' Lani turned her lips against his

smooth brown shoulder, her tongue loving the taste
of his heated skin. 'Anywhere with you, 1 don't
mind. So long as we're together.'

'My sentiments exactly,' he agreed, nuzzling her

throat with his lips. 'But relieve my jealousy, will
you? Who is Danny Apollo?'

Lani's lips parted. 'You've heard of Apollo Re-

cords, haven't you?'

'That Apollo?'

'Hmm.'

Jake frowned. 'So how do you know him?'

'Don't scowl like that.' Lani's eyes danced. 'Miles
talked to me about him. He's a friend of his. He took
that piece of music you sent me to show him.' She
paused. 'He wanted to produce it.'

'And?' .

Lani' s hand slipped from his chest, down over

the taut curve of his hip. '1 wouldn't let him.'

Jake shuddered at the intimacy of her caress, but

he murmured, 'Why not?' as he moved to control
her, and she shrugged.

'It's yours, not mine. 1 said Miles would have to

speak to you.'

'1 gave it to you.' replied Jake softly, propping

himself up on one elbow so he could look down at
her. '1 thought its title might have persuaded you to
come back.'

'Its title?' Lani's tongue circled her lips. 'Concer-

to?'

'A piece of music in three movements,' he mur-

mured, bending his head to caress her breasts with
his lips. 'We had shared the first two. 1 wanted us to
share the third.'

'Oh, Jake!' She shook her head helplessly, and

when she arched towards him, the silken strands of
her hair brushed his mouth. 'Love me,' she breath-
ed, her movements a sinuous invitation Jake had no
power to resist. . .

It was six months before they returned to England,

months when Lani had learned what it was to be
both happy and content. By then Jake's child was
growing inside her, and she had never looked more
beautiful. The angular lines had all been erased by a
lissom covering of flesh, and Jake's love had given
her a confidence that even her writing had not been
able to achieve.

The dinner party they gave at Lani's old apart-

ment soon after their return was by way of a belated
celebration of their wedding, a wedding which had
taken place only days after Jake's arrival at the
apartment six months before. Then, the only guests
had been Robin and Sarah and Lani's father, but the
dinner party was rather more elaborate. Jake's
grandmother was invited, and Miles, and to every-
one's surprise, Clare and Elwyn Hughes arrived
soon after they had sat down to eat.

'It wouldn't be Clare if she didn't make an en-

trance,' murmured Jake to his wife, squeezing
her shoulder as he went to greet the new arrivals,
and watching her husband with her mother, Lani
had to admit no one would ever have guessed the
acrimony with which the woman had received the
news of their marriage.

But it was later, after their guests had departed,

that Lani was most content, curled up on Jake's
knee on the rocking chair, his lips gently nibbling
her ear.

'1 think it all went very well, don't you?' she

murmured, drawing back to look at him, and Jake
gave a lazy nod.

'Very well,' he agreed, fingering a strand of her

hair, which had grown even longer since their
honeymoon in Tahiti. 'We can settle down to
married life now knowing we've settled all our dif-
ferences.'

'Clare was very nice, wasn't she?' ventured Lani

generously. 'She really seemed pleased about the
baby.'

Jake grinned. 'Do you think that's why she's

accepted E1wyn' s proposal after all these years?
Because she' s afraid that becoming a grandmother
will explode the myth of her remaining eternally
youthful?'

Lani buried her face in his neck. 'That' s cynical.'

'But not unreasonable, 1 daresay,' remarked Jake

wryly. 'Anyway, at least your father seems to have
accepted their separation at last.'

'Yes. Poor Daddy.' For the first time since Jake

was injured, Lani was learning to forgive her father
for what he had done. 'He says he' s looking forward
to becoming a grandparent. I think he wants to
show us he really is sorry for what happened.'

'Well, that's all in the past now,' murmured Jake,

parting the lapels of her smock dress and inhaling
her fragrance. 'Just so long as you don't regret
anything, Mrs Pendragon. That' s al! that matters to
me.'

'Regret anything?' Lani looked puzzled. 'What

could I regret?'

'This?' Jake watched her intently as his hand

moved possessively over the swollen mound of her
belly. 'Was it selfish of me to allow this to happen?'

'It does take two,' pointed out Lani mischievous-

ly, her eyes dancing. 'Oh, Jake, don't be silly. I can
think of nothing more satisfying than feeling your
child kicking inside me-well,' she amended,
dimpling, 'perhaps one thing!'

Jake's eyes darkened with emotion. 'You know I

adore you, don't you? Being married to you has
only made it harder for me to accept you have a life
of your own. But I don't want you to think I'm
trying to stop you from writing or painting.'

'Darling,' Lani shook her head, 'with one success-

ful writer in the family, I can afford to be lazy.
Besides, I'll have plenty of time for writing when
l' m telling our children stories. Right now, I'm quite
content to share your limelight. Believe me, I have
everything I want.'

'You're sure?'

The baby kicked beneath his hand and Lani

laughed softly. 'Quite sure,' she told him. 'And
your son seems to agree with me.'