'I shall be sorry to see you go,' Marie said gently. 'But you must think of your own future. Of course you must buy the bungalow, if that's what you want. We'll man­age. My parents are going on a cruise when Dad comes out of the nursing home, and I'll be going to India, of course.'

Mrs Abbot looked at her, smiling wryly. 'You can never be sure of the future, can you? Out of a clear blue sky something falls wham! And everything falls to pieces.'

'I'm sorry,' Marie said shyly. 'I'

m very sorry.'

When Mrs Abbot had gone she lay on the carpet, gazing at the full-colour pictures of Jedhpur; white-capped mountains, brown fields and a winding river running between marshlands rich with birds and animals.

The doorbell rang, startling her, and she glanced at her watch. It couldn't be Clare back already? Or had Mrs Abbot forgotten her key?

When she opened the door she stared in disbelief. 'Stonor! What are you doing here?'

The dark eyes were unsmiling as he surveyed her, leaning on the door-frame with the casual grace which was his birthright.

'I came to see you, surprisingly enough,' he drawled.

'Oh.' For a moment Marie could only stare at him. 'I hadn't expected to see you again.'

'Obviously.' His voice was irritated. 'Aren't you going to ask me in?'

She glanced helplessly back into the sitting-room, lit­tered with open books. 'I suppose so…' She stood back.

'Such eagerness is very flattering,' he drawled, moving past her with an angry glance.

'You took me by surprise. I'm afraid the flat is very untidy this morning.' Hurriedly, with flushed cheeks, she began to pick up the books, wishing she had known he was coming. She would not be wearing dusty pink denims and a short-sleeved white blouse if she had had any idea she would be seeing him. She was angrily aware of her disordered hair, the fact that she was barely wearing any make-up, merely a quick dusting of powder and the palest pink smudge of lipstick.

He bent to pick up one of the books and glanced at it with raised brows. 'Don't tell me you're planning a holiday in India, now? Still chasing the romantic dream?'

She piled the books on the table and faced him, chin defiant. 'No. I'm going out there to work.'

He stood very still, staring at her, frowning. 'Work? You? What on earth do you mean?'

'I've got a job in Jedhpur,' she said carelessly, her pride hurt by his look of disbelief.

'You've never done a day's work in your life,' he said brutally. 'What work could you do?' The dark eyes nar­rowed. 'And who would be fool enough to employ you?'

'I'm perfectly capable of working,' she said angrily. 'It's none of your business, anyway.'

'I'm-curious, nevertheless,' he drawled.

'Then your curiosity must be unsatisfied,' she retorted.

He made a soft sound under his breath, an impatient, infuriated noise. 'Your trouble is that you were never smacked as a child,' he snapped. 'You're spoilt, selfish and impossibly headstrong.'

'That's my problem,' she shrugged.

'I suppose you've given your parents some information about this job?' he demanded. 'They do know about it?'

'Of course they do.'

'And do they approve?'

The blue eyes gazed at him blandly. 'They're willing to let me go.'

'That wasn't what I asked! Do they approve?'

'I think so,' she said lightly. She looked at him be­tween her lashes. 'You haven't told me why you're here. What did you want to see me about?'

Tags: Charlotte Lamb Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net