'Where's Dandy going?' she asked, halting.
'To park the car,' he said drily. 'The garage is round the corner.' He gave her a cool glance. 'He'll be back in a few moments.'
The door was suddenly flung open and a very short, very thin woman rushed at Luc with her arms wide and hugged him, kissing his check. 'You're later than you said!'
'Traffic,' he said succinctly. When the thin arms released him he smiled down at the woman and said: 'This is Lissa, Megan.'
Lissa felt the quick searching stare of very bright dark eyes. Megan was around fifty, she guessed, filled with an energy which made her face vitally alive. Her grey hair curled around that face. She wore a dark dress which made her look thinner than ever and her voice had a faint, soft lilt which Lissa could not identify.
'Hallo,' said Megan, holding out her hand,
Lissa shyly shook hands and Luc said: 'Megan is Dandy's wife.'
Megan smiled at her. 'When he's home! One of these days I'm going with them to find out what they get up to on that boat.'
'You know you get as sick as a dog after five minutes,'
Luc told her, and she groaned.
'Isn't that the truth?' Her dark eyes smiled at Lissa. 'Are you a good sailor, Lissa?'
'Rotten,' said Luc, smiling. 'She was sick for most of the voyage. We thought we might have to chuck her overboard.'
Lissa flushed and Megan observed it with calm amusement. 'Take no notice, love. Luc is a terrible tease.'
The lilt had grown stronger and Lissa frowned, trying to work out what it was, but failing.
'That isn't an English accent, is it?'
'Welsh, love,' said Megan, with obvious satisfaction.
'She hasn't lived there for twenty years,' Luc drawled, 'but she clings to that accent like glue.'
'What's wrong with my accent?' Megan demanded.
'It's very beautiful,' said Lissa and Luc laughed.
'Tactful, isn't she?'
'People who don't like Welsh accents don't get any supper,' Megan assured him.
'I love them,' he said quickly, and got his ear pinched.
'Get inside, you!'
Luc waved Lissa into the house and followed her, talking to Megan cheerfully. Lissa looked around her with weary interest. They were standing in a cream-painted hall of spacious dimensions. Pale gilt medallions gleamed on the walls. A grandfather clock ticked in a deep, solemn voice near by. The carpet was deep and soft, a discreet shade of blue which was almost grey.
'Tired, love?' Megan asked her, making her jump.
She smiled and Luc said quietly: 'She's exhausted.'
'Bed for you, then,' said Megan. 'I'll take her up right away. She can have a tray in bed.'
Lissa followed her, barely aware of her surroundings now because her tiredness had become extreme. She stood in the bedroom to which Megan took her and shivered as though with a chill. Megan touched the radiator hidden behind a wood panelling. 'Cold, love?'
'Just tired,' Lissa admitted.
'Would you like me to help you get undressed?' Megan suggested.
Lissa shook her head. 'I'll be fine, thank you.'
'You slip into bed, then, and I'll be back with a tray,' said Megan, leaving her. Lissa opened her case and took out one of her nighties. Slowly she undressed, her body aching. When Megan returned Lissa was already asleep, her head buried on the pillow.
Megan turned off the bedside lamp and tiptoed out with the tray. Lissa half stirred as the light was doused, b,ut sleep had her too deeply. She did not wake.
She did wake up, however, next morning, when she heard Megan drawing the curtains back. Megan turned with a smile. 'I brought you breakfast in bed,' Megan informed her. 'You look better this morning. You were dead to the world when I looked in last night,'
'I'm not used to travelling,' Lissa admitted.
'You'll have to get used to it with Luc,' Megan said with a little chuckle. 'He's born restless, always off to the other end of the world.'
She went out and Lissa buried her hot face in the pillow. Did Megan, too, expect her to become Luc's mistress? The thought made her so embarrassed and angry she wanted to scream.
She shouldn't have allowed him to bring her here. She was being put in a difficult position merely by being here in his house. Last night she had been too tired to think. Now she felt much more awake and aware, and as she looked around the pretty, expensively furnished room she felt her nerves prickle with anxiety.
Today she would go out and look for a job-any job that would take her away from Luc and the constant temptation of his inviting blue eyes and experienced hands.
She ate her breakfast while the morning light brightened the pale London sky. She heard birds calling somewhere outside and when she got up and went to the window she saw the trees of Regent's Park massed between two houses across the street. The elegant street was very quiet, but she could hear the far-off muted roar of London in the background. It reminded her of the sound of the sea which had been so constant a factor of life at St Lerie..
Later, dressed in a shirt and jeans, she went down the stairs with her tray. She paused in the hall, looking around her, and Luc appeared in a doorway, startling her.
'Oh!' she gasped. He looked very different today. He was wearing a formal dark striped suit, beneath which she could see a pale blue shirt and a rather sombre tie. That formality emphasised the razor edge of his profile, the cynical awareness of the blue eyes. Lissa looked at him and felt the enormous gulf between them, her heart wincing in pain.
'Megan says you slept well.' The deep cool drawl was very controlled. If she had first seen Luc looking like this, she realised, her impression of him would have been very different. He was not the mocking, reckless stranger she had known on St Lerie-this was a man sheathed in power and money, faintly remote, wearing authority like a gloss over his brown skin.
'I did. Thank you.' Her own voice was soft and polite, conscious of the distance between them.
'Put the tray on that table,' he said, glancing at it in her hand. 'Megan will collect it later.'
She put the tray down where he indicated and Luc waved her through the door of the room from which he had appeared. Lissa looked around it as she walked into it and was shaken by the unobtrusive elegance it presented. Luc came from a world she had never known before. She felt very out of place in her jeans and yellow shirt.
Closing the door, Luc stood watching her, one hand in his pocket, the other brushing back his black hair. 'What are your plans for today?' he enquired calmly.
She looked back at him. 'I must look for a job.'
Luc frowned slightly. 'There's no hurry.'
'There is for me.'
He ignored that. 'I have to go to the office this morning. Megan will take you on a shopping expedition.'
'Shopping? I haven't got enough money for…'
'You won't make a very favourable impression on a prospective employer in jeans,' Luc interrupted drily.
'Oh,' she said, flushing. She had brought a mere handful of clothes with her and it had not occurred to her until now that this would be a problem.
'Don't worry about money,' Luc said casually. 'Megan will charge whatever you buy.'
'I can't take money from you!' Her skin was burning and her eyes were a vivid, angry green.
'You can pay me back,' he drawled, and she felt her back stiffen at something in his eyes as he said that.
She involuntarily took a backward step and Luc's cool manner became suddenly glacial. 'And I didn't mean what you thought I meant!'
Her eyes fell away from the angry stare of his and she muttered: 'I'm sorry.'
There was a silence, then he said almost wearily: 'Can't you trust me, Lissa? Is it too much to ask?'
She looked up. 'If I don't trust you, whose fault is that?'
His face hardened. 'We can't talk now,' he said tersely. 'I have an appointment at eleven and I've got to go. Promise me to stay with Megan until I get back. She'll show you some of London. I don't want you wandering off on your own.'
Lissa hesitated and Luc said forcibly: For God's sake, does one day matter? Promise me!'