Read Robyn Donald – Iceberg for Free Online

noiseless tread of his, purpose strong in his
    expression.
    Her nerve held Without flinching she endured his approach, jutted her chin as he lifted it so that he could
    scrutinize her pale face with its wide cheekbones and small, round determined chin. Thankful that her long
    lashes prevented him from seeing into the depths of her eyes, she did not attempt to meet the icy dominance of
    his, but contented herself with staring defiantly at his mouth. It was rigid with control, but there was a hint of a
    softer side to his character in the sensual lower lip.
    Lucky for Bronwyn, she thought, made frivolous by extreme tension.
    After what seemed, to be hours but was really only seconds he released her, turning away as he said coldly,
    'Your youth is some excuse for your pertness, I suppose, but don't push your luck. I don't like adolescents.'
    Which was a pretty devastating parting shot, she owned reluctantly. At twenty she considered herself well past
    the sighs and humours, of adolescence; it was rather clever of Justin Doyle to hit out at her confidence in such a
    way.
    But then he was a clever man. Bronwyn had told her so and she had seen it too. Still, she thought to reassure
    herself, she wasn't stupid either, She had wanted to go to university, but Jennifer had not been well, so she had
    stayed at home, helped. in the house and. worked the middle of every day at the dress shop. An empty
    existence, but she had been warmed by her mother's love. And she had had time to write.
    As she pulled on a light pair of slacks and a blouse she thought that perhaps she could go part-time to the
    university at Auckland,, or take subjects extra-murally, and registered the decision to make enquiries.
    There was little need for housework, but she did it anyway, to find herself only halfway through the morning
    with time on her hands. Almost without thought she took out the manuscript of her book, sat down at the
    kitchen table with a cup of coffee and began to read it. That led to corrections and before long she was busy'
    writing, surroundings forgotten, the nasty little incident with Justin Doyle wiped from her memory as if it had
    never happened.
    Well after lunchtime she lifted her head, flexed her tired fingers as she looked ruefully at her watch. Writing
    always made her ravenous, and as there was precious little in that pantry to stay her appetite, she picked up her
    purse and headed down the drive.
    The day had fulfilled its promise, scorching hot with barely a breeze to temper it. Whoever had set out the
    garden had planted a wide shrub bed to hide the drive from the rest of the garden. The" plants were small yet,
    but in a few years would form a dense screen. Right at the end, by the road, was one of the original trees, an
    enormous jacaranda, and perched up in a nest made by branches was a child. She was reading, but as Linnet
    came-towards her she closed the book and looked down with a flicker of curiosity -in the clear, pale eyes which
    branded her immediately as Justin Doyle's daughter.
    'Hello.'
    Linnet stopped. 'Hello.'
    'You must be Miss Grant's sister from Australia.'
    'Yes, I am.'
    The child surveyed her with some of her father's cool aloofness. 'I'm Sarah Doyle. What's your name?'
    'Linnet Grant.'
    The unfamiliar name brought a slight frown to the child's face. She attempted it, stumbled and said 'Linnet?
    Like-a bird?'
    'If you like. That's what my mother calls "me."
    Sarah nodded. 'Why have you got such funny names, you and Miss Grant?'
    'My father's mother came from Wales, and we were named after her.'
    'I see.'
    There was a moments silence, then Sarah said, 'I'm not bunking school. I've just had hepatitis and I'm not
    allowed back until the doctor says so.’
    'Tough,' said Linnet sympathetically.
    But the child's delicate features set in lines of boredom.
    'I don't mind. I don't like school. Uncle Stewart says it’s because I'm too snooty, but I don't care.'
    'Why should you??
    Those uncanny eyes fixed on Linnet's