A Masterful Man

CHAPTER SEVEN

"They sent all this?'

'They did indeed.'

Davina was unpacking a carton of food in the kitchen and she hadn't responded to what he'd said only a few minutes ago about how long she would like to stay. Nor had he pressed her. He'd simply taken her hand as he had a habit of doing, and led her back to the kitchen, and then he'd brought their bags and this carton which she hadn't noticed in from the Land Rover.

And her stunned mind had only been able to come up with one thing-perhaps I can make myself useful. But as she unpacked and stowed foodstuffs, eggs, meat, vegetables, bread, fruit, cheese, some of her sausage rolls, biscuits, flour, salt and pepper, butter and cream, even vinegar, mustard, some herbs and spices and several bottles of wine, she said involuntarily, 'There's enough here for a month-' She broke off and bit her lip, then added, 'Well, not really, but-how did they manage in such a short time?'

'Both Loretta and Lavinia, each in their own way, are very determined, capable people. Loretta packed your bag and Lavinia did the food. Candice reminded me to bring your camera.'

'Poor Candice-was she upset?' Davina queried.

'Well, she wasn't absolutely thrilled to be left on her own with those two, but I promised her we'd pick her up and take her swimming and take her out to Ball's Pyramid in the next day or two. She always loves a trip out there.'

'I think she's quite fond of you.' Davina bent down to a cupboard to put some things away and when she'd straightened he was in the kitchen beside her opening a bottle of wine.

He said, 'And you-how about bread and butter, cheese and your sausage rolls? I'm not that hungry. Are you?'

'No…'

'Nor did you drink much,' he added, reaching for a couple of wine glasses. 'Barely a full glass.'

'How do you know?'

'I was watching you,' he said with a faint smile and offered her a glass of wine. 'Go and curl up on the sofa. I'll bring the rest-unless you'd like to change into something more comfortable?'

Davina looked down at the violet dress and swallowed. 'Later, perhaps.'

He said nothing, but there was a wicked little gleam in his eyes that she knew well. So she took the glass and went down the other end of the room and made a pretence of examining the paintings.

'Do you know what I'd like?' he said about ten minutes later as he brought the warmed-up sausage rolls and a plate of bread and cheese to the table in front of the fireplace.

Davina turned away from a rather good water-colour of Mount Gower. 'No.'

'I'd like to think you trusted me enough to tell me some more about it.'

'You mean my life with Darren?' she said jerkily and moved to sit down with a sigh. 'I don't even want to think about it,' she added barely audibly.

'OK.' He sat down beside her and turned to face her with his arm along the back of the sofa behind her. 'Then should we take up where we left off?'

Davina laid her head back and trembled. 'I…still have some reservations about that.'

'Tell me.' He didn't say it impatiently, but quietly, and reached across and picked up the plate of sausage rolls to offer her one. 'You didn't eat anything, either.'

Davina relaxed a little and bit into one of her feather-light rolls, finished it and took another saying ruefully, 'I didn't realise I was hungry-Steve, do you believe in love?'

He thought for a bit. 'The until-death-do-us-part kind?'

'Yes,' she whispered.

'Yes, but I don't know if it hits you on the head, so to speak,' he said slowly and with an oddly searching look. 'Do you?'

'I… don't know…'

'Don't believe in it or don't know if this is it?'

She shrugged and sipped some wine. 'Both, perhaps but it's…what I have a longing for, despite any impressions I might have given to the contrary.'

'I guess we all do.'

'Do you?' She looked at him over the rim of her glass.

He laid his head back. 'To be honest, it's been there, yes, but it hasn't been a blight on my life. I think it's rather contingent on finding the right person. I thought I had, once,' he reflected. 'She thought otherwise.'

'How do you mean?' Davina asked.

'Well-' He grimaced. 'In the sense that she told me she could no more live most of her life here than she could fly.'

'And that broke you up?' Davina said a little incredulously.

He looked at her wryly. 'It's a fairly major sort of schism, don't you think?' 'But…'

'Are you wondering whether a wife shouldn't automatically cleave unto her husband wherever it is as they did in the bible? I don't think wives quite see themselves that way any more-and it's probably a good thing. Saves a bit of heartache later on.'

Davina drank some more wine. 'What about the girl in red?' she said slowly and decided to be quite honest. 'Loretta told me she was a "contender" and she looked as if that was how she saw herself.'

He said, with a hint of amusement, 'So you were watching me.' Davina sighed gently. 'Obliquely, yes.' He said musingly, 'I've known Mary Hargreaves all my life. She was born here, too, although she left the island for a few years and has only recently returned.' He lifted his eyebrows. 'And returned rather changed.' 'How?'

'She's a lot smarter, a lot more sophisticated, but one thing hasn't changed. She loves Lord Howe.' 'Have you ever considered-falling in love with her?' 'No,' he said briefly. 'Poor girl,' Davina said softly. 'I haven't ever led her on, so to speak.' You don't need to, Davina thought but didn't say. 'And there's been no one else?' she said instead.

She thought he looked at her rather drily before he said, 'There've been a few affairs down the years; I'm not a monk but neither am I a compulsive womaniser.'

'Steve,' she said slowly, 'why did you-you did try to leave me alone for a while, didn't you?'

'Yes,' he agreed. 'You may have noticed, I'm not the most patient, sympathetic sort of bloke, and I thought…the way I am might not be what you needed- among other things. Like a slightly dented ego,' he said, quite gravely, but she knew he was laughing at himself. 'The thing was,' he went on, 'I found it impossible to live in the same house with you and not to-be able to have you. I'm sorry if that sounds crude, or whatever, and I'm aware,' he said in a different voice, 'that to you it might put me in the same league as Darren Smith-Hastings, but there is at least one difference. I think the feeling is mutual between us.'

'And that's something,' she said in a subdued voice, 'I just can't deny.'

He said no more but took her free hand and pressed her fingers gently.

Davina felt tears sting her eyelids but she battled them and said huskily, presently, 'Thanks for being so honest, anyway. Perhaps I can be the same. I… the thought of having someone like you… to look after me and take charge of my life for the time being, and it has been pretty barren for years now, is almost irresistible. The thought of how I feel when you hold me and kiss me- is the same. But it's almost impossible for me to think beyond that and I have to say that while I long for love and tenderness I'm also a mass of insecurities. I just don't know if I could be any good in bed with anyone now,' she said as lightly as she could. 'So-'

'Why don't you leave that up to me, Davina?' 'But,' she said tensely, 'I feel… tainted, sort of. I feel used and old sometimes, you saw it yourself. I… he…' 'Don't. I can imagine. Can I tell you something?' he said gently, and got rid of her wine glass so he could draw her into his arms. 'On that memorable occasion when I first saw you, when I behaved so badly, it was mainly because my first impression was-how absolutely stunning you were.'

'But you also told me with your eyes-' she breathed '-I mean you might as well have told me I was beddable but that's all.'

'I know,' he said wryly. 'I think I must have had some sixth sense about you. An intuition what a thorn in my flesh you were going to be. I also-' he paused thoughtfully '-never like to give way to those very physical first encounters. I've always found it's wiser to be-well, more circumspect. And, you see, it comes as a bit of a shock to most male egos to look at a girl and know immediately that you want her-which makes you quite vulnerable, believe me-whether she's willing or not.'

Davina smiled slightly and grimaced at the same time. 'I bet they're mostly willing, though.'

'Well, that's the other thing.' He ran his fingers down her arm. 'There's this hunter instinct, I guess, plus the desire for a good woman who is only going to succumb to you eventually, that makes you hope she's not immediately willing.'

'That's-only a man could think like that!'

'I know. We're a difficult breed.'

'Not to mention dangerous.'

'Oh, entirely.' He placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. 'See what I mean?'

She laughed and, in an entirely natural movement, snuggled closer to him. 'I always thought, when we did this-if we did this-it would be charged with all sorts of-high drama.'

She didn't see the odd little look he cast the top of her head, she simply laid her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes. He let her be for a few minutes, then he tilted her chin and started to kiss her.

She sat on the white bed some time later in a short satin nightgown with a deep lace V neck and linked her fingers together nervously. She'd had a shower in the old-fashioned bathroom-at least it looked old-fashioned with a tub on claw feet, black and white tiles and an old wooden credenza with the basin let into it, but a thoroughly modern shower cubicle had been installed and the water both gushed and was hot.

She'd brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth and smoothed some moisturiser on to her skin and now she was ready, she hoped. The whole process had only taken a few minutes but she hadn't failed to notice the tension starting to build in her eyes again. Steve had gone outside to deal with a shed door that had started to bang regularly as a wind had risen and rain started to fall.

'Sorry,' he said wryly as he came into the bedroom looking damp and windblown. 'The lock had broken so I had to find something to tie it up with-hey, I knew I shouldn't have left you,' he added, sitting down beside her and looking into her eyes.

She coloured faintly but said, 'That makes me feel like a-wimp.'

'No. Listen, why don't you hop in?' He drew back the bedclothes. 'I'll be with you in two ticks.' And as she slid down, he turned the kerosene lamp right down to barely a flicker.

Davina watched his shadow on the wall then closed her eyes. A few minutes later the other side of the bed sagged as he climbed in beside her and took her straight into his arms. He wore nothing at all but he buried his face in her hair and said, 'If you knew how often I've dreamt about this you would also know that I'm much in need of some guidance.'

'What do you mean?' she whispered, taken by surprise.

'You'll have to tell me…' But he stopped as a tremor shook her, and lifted his head to look at her. 'What did I say wrong?'

'I… it's nothing-'

'Yes, it is, I could feel you withdrawing and I can see you looking frightened again.'

'I told you this might happen,' she said unhappily.

'Well, I think you're going to have to tell me why,' he said gently and frowned as if trying to recall something. 'All I was going to say was that I need you to tell me if I'm going too fast for you, like a bumbling boy.'

She caught her breath as he smiled suddenly with those wicked little glints in his eyes.

'But, I guess it brought back some memories,' he said, suddenly sober. 'Tell me, Davina.'

'He…' She stopped, then made herself go on. 'He used to try to make me talk to him in a… certain way. It was horrible.' And she turned her face into his shoulder.

He held her for a long time. Then he said slowly, 'It's supposed to turn some men on.' 'But not you?' she said in a muffled, but suddenly

hopeful voice.

'I can't think of anything I'd like less,' he said quietly, and tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. 'But if I'm ever hurting you or not pleasing you, I'd like you

to tell me that. And-' his lips twisted '-I can't deny

I wouldn't mind a bit of encouragement now and then, but you could restrict that to… let's see, how about, "I quite liked that, Mr Warwick," or something along those lines?' He raised an enquiring eyebrow at her.

And Davina found herself laughing suddenly. But she said primly, 'Very well, Mr Warwick, I'll do my best.' He hugged her and they lay together loosely for a while until she felt warm and safe again. And only then, as if he knew instinctively, did he slide her nightgown up over her hip and start to caress her thigh. And, to her immense relief, all the shadows of her past life began to recede until she was aware only of him and the things he did to her body just by touching her with that light touch that both soothed and excited. And when he finally claimed her, she was both wet and welcoming and a little dizzy with delight as she moved beneath him in a rhythm she hadn't known before that seemed to unite them to a final peak of pleasure that rocked them both as if they were one, and affected him as much as it did her.

'Well, well,' he murmured, still breathing a little unevenly as they lay facing each other with their arms around each other. 'So I was right.'

'Right?' She freed a hand and traced the line of his jaw.

'I had the feeling we would do this extremely well together. I just couldn't see how it could be any other way.'

A smile curved Davina's lips. 'It's not very nice to harp on how right one might have been, however,' she said gravely.

'You don't agree?' he queried just as gravely.

'Oh, I agree, Mr Warwick.'

'Then?'

She stared into his hazel eyes and let her fingers drift into his tousled, tawny hair and was suddenly shaken by a rush of emotion. 'How can I say thank you?' she said huskily, and buried herself against him suddenly.

'Don't,' he said very quietly and stroked her hair. 'Don't even think it.'

'It's hard not to. You were…wonderful,' she said softly.

'So were you, so were you. And I never even got your nightgown off,' he said whimsically.

'You'd already had me half undressed earlier on,' she reminded him.

'So I did.' And it seemed as if he was about to say more but in the end didn't and she wondered drowsily why, but she was so comfortable, so contented, she thought with some wonder, she was quite happy to lie in his arms and drift slowly towards sleep. Which she did and it took a few days for her to realise just how delicately Steve Warwick was handling their affair, how he always introduced a note of humour into their love-making, how he went out of his way to do nothing to shock her or bring back any memories of the kind of violation she'd suffered before. How he was healing her little by little-and to realise that things couldn't always be that way between a man and a woman, although that was something she was to learn the hard way. But, for the next few days, it was a kind of growing magic…

'It's still raining.'

'I know,' a voice said beside her, and Davina sat up abruptly, stared around confusedly until Steve pulled her down beside him and said with mock reproach, 'Hey! Remember me? The guy you made love to last night?'

'Oh…' She subsided, laughing. 'I wasn't sure where I was-of course I remember you.'

He buried his face in her shoulder. 'Remember me well, I hope.'

'Very well.' She smoothed her hands along his

shoulders.

'What I'm trying to establish is whether you remember me kindly enough to repeat the experience in the next few minutes, because I have to tell you that I'm intoxicated by the warm, soft feel of you and the perfume of your skin. I can't keep my hands off you-and it is raining, as you remarked.'

'What's that got to do with it?' Davina enquired with a catch in her voice as he once more slid her nightgown up.

'Well, there's no point getting up, is there?' He spanned her waist with his hands then moved them up to her breasts. 'I think I am going to take this off this time,' he added. 'I feel it might get in my way this morning.'

And, because she was weak with desire and love, she simply sat up and did it herself then slipped down beside him again. 'Does that answer all your questions, Mr Warwick?' she murmured, as he enfolded her completely naked in his arms. 'Beautifully,' he replied seriously.

That afternoon, despite the soft rain, he found some old waterproofs and they went for a tramp up to the Catalina crash site and he told her the history of it, how the Royal Australian Airforce flying boat in 1948, flying low with a faulty hydraulic system, had clipped the ridge and plummeted down the paddock, and they inspected the wreckage then walked up to the memorial plaque in memory of the men who had died. When they got back, Davina was glowing from the exercise and the fresh misty rain, and Steve stopped to chop some wood for the stove and the fireplace-and the heavens opened again and it started to pour heavily. They were laughing breathlessly as they got inside with bundles of wood and after they'd dried off, Davina turned her attention to cooking dinner on the wood stove. They'd combined breakfast and lunch into one meal, chops and eggs which had been relatively simple to fry, whereas dinner was going to be more complicated…

'But I always wanted to try one,' she assured him as she assembled her ingredients for a beef and burgundy casserole, potatoes Anna and broccoli in a cream sauce.

He watched her working, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved white jumper with an old-fashioned frilly apron complete with bib tied around her. Her hair was loose and the moisture in the air had added to its fullness, and he smiled slightly as she tucked some strands behind her ears and regarded the stove that he had lit thoughtfully. 'I guess one has to guess at the temperatures,' she murmured.

'I guess so,' he agreed, his eyes still on her.

She looked up and an impish light lit her eyes. He, too, had changed, into jeans and a yellow sweater and he looked big and vital, and as if he had other things on his mind. 'You're not going to be much help, are you?'

'I know next to nothing about cooking on one of these; there used to be an electric stove but Lavinia threw it out. Besides which-' he paused and his hazel eyes locked with hers '-I could get into trouble for interfering with the cook. There's something about your apron that is driving me wild.'

'Why don't you go and do something else, then?' she suggested airily but with her pulses beginning to hammer. 'There's nothing else I want to do.' He leant his shoulders against a cupboard and folded his arms.

'Steve,' she tried to say seriously, not quite sure whether he was serious or not, 'I don't take my cooking lightly, so I'm liable to get irritable if-what are you doing?' she queried as he pushed himself away from the cupboard and came to stand right in front of her. 'I'm trying to take this rejection lightly,' he murmured. 'It's not a rejection!' she protested. 'But we have to eat.'

'Yes, ma'am.' But he didn't move.

She made an exasperated sound and stood on her toes to kiss him. 'There, will that do?'

He considered. 'If I were to be assured it was only a down-payment, it might.'

'You… oh!' She relaxed as she saw the laughter beginning to lurk in his eyes.

'Had you going there for a bit, didn't I?' he teased.

'Yes, you did,' she retorted, but laughing herself. 'Now, will you leave me in peace, please?'

'Certainly,' he replied promptly, but added, 'When I've done this.' And he took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly. 'I was only half teasing you, you see,' he said, as she lay flushed and breathless against him.

'You're impossible,' she said huskily, but amended that almost immediately as he stroked her hair. 'If anyone had told me you could be like this when we first met, I wouldn't have believed them.' 'Like what?'

'So… nice,' she said barely audibly. 'So much fun to be with.'

He grimaced slightly. 'Has it occurred to you that we might bring out the best in each other?'

She lifted her eyes to his and they stared at each other for a long moment. 'I didn't know I could be fun to be with any more,' she said uncertainly.

'Well, you are, take it from me,' he said in what she later thought might have been a deliberate lightening of the moment, and couldn't help wondering why.

But at the time, when he went on to say that if she was serious about wanting to cook them dinner now might be the time to start just in case she was instrumental in him getting seriously carried away, she pushed herself away from him and said in mock reproof, 'Mr Warwick, you started all this!' Then they were laughing together and he kissed her briefly and told her he would desist, for the time being.

After dinner, they sat together in front of the fire and he asked her about her family.

'Well I was an only child,' she said slowly, 'and my parents-well, my father…' She stopped and sighed.

'Tell me about him, Davina.'

'He was such a difficult person.' She laid her head on his shoulder. 'He was intensely ambitious and he started and built up the business that was to be his downfall and it took a lot of drive and energy and expertise to do it. Yet looking back now I think he was rather insecure or something, because he was never really happy and he could be terribly critical, so that both my mother and I, we later discovered, always felt as if we were letting him down in some way or other. If I did well at school he always pointed out that it was possible to do better. If things went wrong at work, he took his frustrations out on her-oh, not physically, but she once told me she often thought that she was never a good enough mother or housekeeper or wife, yet she was all of those things. And he never let us forget that our growing wealth and so on was solely due to his efforts. This may seem crazy but we both acquired guilt-complexes, I think.'

'Which didn't help when it came to paying him back when the chips were down,' he said thoughtfully. She swallowed. 'No. But I did it more for my mother than I did it for him, although she begged me not to. But I couldn't bear to see what she was going through.'

'Did you consciously decide on a course of passive resistance when you married Smith-Hastings?'

Davina thought for a while. Then she said bleakly, 'I was conscious of two things. That he frightened me in a way that was hard to define-perhaps I just didn't want to think about it too much; and that I didn't know how, without jeopardising my father's position, but no one was going to blackmail me into faking love. I told Darren that before I did it. He said it didn't matter.'

'How long were you together?'

'Twelve months.'

He moved abruptly. 'Twelve months of… coercion?'

'No… After about three months of, well, I suppose passive resistance on my part is a good way of putting it-his ego got in the way. I think he was genuinely stunned that he couldn't… bring me round. So he then set out to humiliate me, or so he hoped, with any willing woman he could find.' She smiled without humour. 'I was so relieved I just didn't care. But he made one stipulation. Either I put up a front or he pulled the plug on Dad. So I did. For nine more months I went everywhere I was commanded to, did all the kind of socialising he wanted me to, entertained all the people he needed me to, wore all the clothes his money paid for, got photographed and written about and even smiled at him in public and stood by his side like the dutiful wife I wasn't. He used to make a habit of parading his latest lover at all those parties and making sure I knew who she was.'

'My dear,' Steve took her hand, 'you deserve a medal.'

Davina grimaced. 'If Paul Grainger is to be believed, I didn't fool everyone.'

'He could have been talking from hindsight.'

'I suppose so.' She shivered.

'When did you find out he was going under?'

'My father was the first to tell me. He was… so shocked and ashamed-something Darren had relied on to keep him from telling me, incidentally-but apparently the rumours had been circulating for a while. It was when Darren started to want to transfer a lot of things into my name that I knew I had to get out. That he was a fraud as well as everything else. On the day my father died I did just that and left everything he'd ever given me behind.'

'He didn't try to stop you?'

'He did. He threatened me and all sorts of things. He said he had, after all, propped my father's business up- he didn't know my father had finally told me that there'd been a lot of promises and that for a while being associated with the Smith-Hastings name had kept the wolf from the door, just. But nothing had actually eventuated. But I went straight to a lawyer and set the thing in motion. And then I concentrated on keeping out of his way and trying to help my mother get over it all.' 'How is she now?'

'I don't think she ever will get over it but she wasn't left destitute, fortunately, though only by coincidence-she had a very elderly maiden aunt who died not long after Dad did and left her some money. She tried to give it all to me but I wouldn't take it and, well, she's finally got interested in of all things, saving endangered species like the rhino. She gets quite impassioned about it.'

'I'm glad,' he said quietly. 'But you're still left with this fear of Darren Smith-Hastings, even although it's been over for what…three years?'

'Yes, since the divorce came through. But I don't think I'll ever forget the last words he said to me-he said that if he ever got his hands on me again, I'd regret the day.' She shivered again and he drew her closer and said drily, 'I'd like to get my hands on him but possibly they were only the words of a man who'd taken several severe joltings to his ego.'

'I keep telling myself that, but when you've been forced to do-certain things, it's not easy to believe it.'

'Do you feel safe now?'

'Oh, yes…' She stopped.

But all he said was, 'Good.' And he took her to bed presently.

It was a Lord Howe special the next day. Sunshine, a sparkling sea and a wide, clear blue sky.

Steve told her about his plans over breakfast. 'I'm going to take you to all my favourite spots. Bring your camera and your costume.'

She looked up eagerly but then her expression became a bit wary.

'What?' he queried.

'I…would hate to bump into Paul Grainger.'

'You won't, he left yesterday.'

'How do you know?'

He smiled slightly. 'I know a lot that goes on here. Any more objections?'

'Not one…'

It was a marvellous day and it gave her a new insight into Steve Warwick. She told him a bit about it as they sat on the thick, lush turf of the Clear Place looking out over Mutton Bird Island, Wolf Rock and Mount Lidgbird, and ate the picnic lunch she'd made.

'You really do love this island, don't you?' she said a bit dreamily as she thought back over all he'd shown her so far, the fantastic banyan trees and many others, the mutton bird holes, the Valley of Shadows, the spot on the cliff edge above Middle Beach where he'd pointed out two white terns flying in tandem, swooping and wheeling in perfect unison and as if they were flying just for the love of it.

'Yes, I do. I think it's in my blood.' 'How much time do you spend on the mainland?' 'Quite a lot.' He grimaced. 'I don't know if it was a conscious policy of my forebears but we acquired little bits of this and that, all quite humble at first but they've mushroomed now to the extent that I decided to go public in quite a few of them so there's not only myself and the family to consider but shareholders as well.'

'Darren-that was his forte, he always reckoned,' she said involuntarily. 'He saw himself as a corporate raider par excellence. But when interest rates went through the roof, he-well, he blamed the banks for being prepared to lend him so much.' 'It happened to a lot of them.' 'But basically you must enjoy such a diverse empire, mustn't you?' she said with a tinge of curiosity.

'I have to confess I do. I also look upon it as a trust, to keep it all going and healthy, wealthy and wise, and I enjoy the cut and thrust of commerce so I couldn't, much as I love it, simply live here and watch birds. But I couldn't ever envisage not being able to live here a lot of the time, either.'

'So you have the best of both worlds,' she said slowly. 'Perhaps.' He leant back on one elbow. 'The one thing I haven't done yet is provide any heirs to carry on the tradition. It's probably hard for outsiders to understand but I think most of us who have roots here regard the island as a bit of a sacred trust too. I think it comes from the isolation of the place as well as how self-supporting it's always been.' 'The Kentia palm,' she murmured. 'It is a bit amazing, isn't it? And still going on.'

'Yep! Although we only sell seedlings now, as opposed to seeds.'

Davina lay back and crossed her arms behind her head. 'It's so lovely,' she said softly, relishing the warmth of the sun and the clear air.

He looked down at her from close range so she could see the little yellow flecks in his eyes. 'So are you. I wonder if you have any idea of what I'd like to be doing right here and now?' Her lips curved. 'I don't think it would be legal.' 'Not even an embrace?'

'Oh, well, perhaps.' But at that moment they heard voices approaching and they sat up, laughing quietly.

'So much for the isolation,' he said wryly. 'By the way, I'm taking you out to dinner tonight.'

'Thank you, but I can-'

'This will be educational as well as epicurean. You'll need to bring your camera.' 'Oh. Why?'

'Well, you know all those mutton bird holes in the ground we've seen?' She nodded. 'The adults,' he continued, 'leave their chicks in the holes all day while they fly out to sea to do a spot of fishing. They all return at more or less the same time just before dark and unerringly find the right hole in the ground. It's quite a sight and there's a restaurant ideally positioned above Ned's Beach to watch the spectacle while you have a pre-dinner drink.'

'Oh!'

'Mmm. In the meantime, I'm going to try and find you some Masked Boobies, unfortunately named birds one feels, but also well worth the sight.'

'Lay on, Macduff!'

But they didn't find any Masked Boobies and were laughing about that as they got back to the cottage, late in the afternoon.

'I'm tempted to think they didn't want to be found,' she told him. 'Perhaps they're embarrassed about their name?'

He grimaced. 'We'll see them tomorrow, anyway. I thought we might take Candice to Ball's Pyramid- they're always flying around the base of Mount Gower. Do you need to rest before we go out? We've done a hell of a lot of walking and climbing.'

'No,' she said, 'and a hell of a lot of that sort of gentle rambling we did today is small time to someone who has climbed Mount Lidgbird! But I am going to soak in that bathtub for a little while.'

'Done,' he said. 'I've got a few calls to make.'

'I'm surprised there's a telephone.'

'The two things I insisted on were the shower and thephone.'

It was blissful in the tub with a haze of lavender-scented steam rising above her-she'd found the lavender oil in the credenza. And just as she was thinking reluctantly of getting out, Steve came in.

'I'm coming,' she said ruefully, and stood up.

'I wasn't coming to chase you up,' he replied and held out a hand to help her climb over the steep side of the tub. 'I was actually coming,' he went on, 'to feast my eyes on you. I've been plagued by visions of you without your clothes all day, you see.'

'I…' Davina stopped and felt herself starting to colour. 'Well, here I am,' she said a bit breathlessly, as his gaze wandered over her wet body, the sweep of her hips and thighs, the small mound of her stomach, her waist, her rosy, satiny breasts with their darker rose velvety tips. 'I can't help feeling a bit like a B-grade actress without her clothes, though,' she added involuntarily.

'Don't,' he said barely audibly and put his hands round her waist. 'I was not only wrong but a bloody idiot when I said that. You're exquisite-why, oh, why did I ever mention mutton birds?' And he looked into her eyes wryly.

'There's always later,' she said softly, and moved into his arms.

'Not if you do that,' he murmured.

'I'm only going to do it for a fleeting moment more. Steve-' She stopped and looked up at him.

'Say it, Davina.'

'I… thank you for a lovely day.' Which was not what she'd been going to say and she thought he might have guessed because something flickered briefly in his eyes, but she moved away and reached for a towel before he could comment. She also said brightly, 'Give me twenty minutes and I'll be ready.'

He paused and she held her breath but in the end he said, 'OK. I need a shower myself.'

She dressed with unsteady hands and the knowledge in her heart that she'd been almost unbearably tempted to say-I love you…

'I like that dress,' he said from the doorway.

She looked down at the chalk-blue dress she'd worn once before. 'Thanks. It's the kind of dress it's nice to be in.'

He pulled the towel he'd tied round his lean hips off casually and reached for his clothes. Davina turned away and started to brush her hair at the old-fashioned dressing-table. But, before she'd finished, he loomed up behind her in the mirror, still without his shirt and still with droplets of water on his broad shoulders and in the tawny, springy hair of his chest, and their eyes met in the glass. She was a little shocked to see the vulnerability in hers and blinked a couple of times then saw him smile absently as he looked down at her and slid his hands round her waist again as he said, 'Davina?'

'Yes…' she answered uncertainly.

'Don't go away from me.'

'I…I'm not.'

'Good.' He turned her to face him and fixed the collar of her dress that was a little awry and added, 'Are you sure?'

'Yes, I'm sure,' she whispered.

'Then shall we go and witness these blasted birds before it gets too dark?' He took her chin in his fingers and kissed her lips very gently.

'Oh, yes, please.'

And so it was that she arrived at the restaurant unable to help feeling reassured about some things, but still with the weight of what she'd nearly said on her mind-to be confronted by Mary Hargreaves, who greeted Steve delightedly and confided that she was on her own; she just hadn't felt like cooking after a tough day at the office, and how she'd so wanted to talk to Davina at the cocktail party but hadn't somehow got around to it…