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she jerked it away, furious with herself. Adam Blackmore was an arrogant, overbearing tyrant who knew nothing about her. He just thought she would make a temporary substitute in every way for his secretary, poor woman. Well, that wasn’t her scene, she thought angrily. No matter how attractive, how desirable he might be.
    She pushed herself away from the door. The first thing she needed was a warm drink if she was going to sleep. And every fibre of her being told her she would need all the sleep she could get. Every nerve ending was jangling from a day in the presence of Adam Blackmore.
    She pulled a face. Forget the day. Every nerve ending was jangling from a few moments curled in his lap fighting all the instincts that urged her to wrap her arms around his neck and let him take her on that grand tour.
    Her fingers strayed to her little brooch. ‘Some help you were,’ she said, then lifted the framed portrait from her mantelpiece and looked at it long and hard. The face that smiled back was unbelievably young, from another world when she was eighteen and life was very simple. ‘Why did it have to be him?’ she demanded. But the photograph had no answer and she replaced it with a sigh.
    The light was winking on her answering machine, but she ignored it. It could wait until she had made her cocoa. She set some milk to boil and quickly changed into a pair of pink and white spotted pyjamas and slipped on a matching wrapper.
    She made some cocoa, then set it on the coffee table and stared at the answering machine for a moment. It was probably nothing important. Nothing that wouldn’t keep until the morning. Still. She pressed the button.
    There was a sharp rap at the door. ‘Drat the man,’ she swore to herself. She flung open the door. ‘Adam this isn’t funny...’ The words trailed away. ‘Jim.’
    ‘I have got to talk to you, Tara.’ He pushed passed her before she could close the door.
    The recording clicked in and Beth’s voice filled the room. ‘Tara, Jim Matthews has been at the office again today. Blasted man actually offered me money to tell him where you live.’ She chuckled. ‘If he hadn’t been so cheap I might have been tempted. I forgot to mention it when you phoned, but I thought you’d better know that he hasn’t given up.’ The machine clicked off and began to rewind.
    Tara turned on Jim Matthews. ‘Have you any idea what time it is?’
    ‘I’ve been waiting all evening to see you.’
    ‘Waiting where?’ she demanded. ‘You weren’t here when I got in.’ Which on reflection she decided, was probably just as well. Adam was not likely to be amused at having to send him packing two days running.
    ‘Oh, I’ve been wandering around,’ he said, absently. ‘It’s given me a great idea for a book. Have you any idea how terrifying those cat’s eyes in the road are when they look up at you? Suppose they were real — have you got a notebook handy, I ought to make a few notes...’
    ‘No!’ Tara shuddered. ‘And I don’t want to hear about your horrible cat’s eyes. It’s time you gave up, Jim and accepted the fact that I’m never coming back. You’ll have to find someone else. I’m not the only...’ She stopped as another thought struck her. ‘How on earth did you manage to find out where I live? I’m quite certain that Beth wouldn’t take your money. No matter how much you offered.’
    ‘She was very rude, Tara. I was shocked to hear such language from a woman.’ He sank onto her sofa.
    ‘Well?’ she demanded.
    ‘There are always ways to find out things. You just have to think it through.’ He shrugged. ‘I wrote detective stories for a while you know. I just imagined this was a detective story. How would my hero find out where the lovely lady lived?’ He glanced at the table. ‘Is that cocoa?’ He picked up the cup and ignoring her outraged protest he began to drink it. ‘This is wonderful. I’m absolutely freezing.’
    ‘I’m not surprised. You’re not