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  Sophie gasped indignantly. 'He didn't throw me out, I made him stop the car and let me out! And if I hadn't been defending-' She broke off with a self­consciously indrawn breath as she realised what she had been about to say.

  'Nevertheless, one presumes he gave you reason for such an action, and the result was totally irresponsible— on the part of both of you, it would seem,' Maximilian Grant rasped critically.

  She winced at his use of the word 'irresponsible'. The last thing she wanted this man to think her was irresponsible.

  'You could have lost a lot more than your "honour" wandering around deserted roads this time of night,' he warned impatiently, showing her immediately that he had drawn his own conclusions about what she had been about to claim she was defending earlier. And as it happened he was completely wrong; she would have had no trouble 'defending her honour' with Brian, and cer­tainly wouldn't have ended up walking back because of it! 'I would suggest that in future, you choose your friends a little more carefully,' he added harshly.

  It sounded more like an order than a suggestion, ac­tually, but as it appeared to be his parting comment, he putting the car into gear now and driving off with smooth efficiency, Sophie didn't particularly care how it sounded. She was just glad he had finally left. She could breathe again now, felt as if she bad been hyper­ventilating since the moment the man had revealed his identity as Maximilian Grant. 'Of all the cars in all the world'; not quite the original quote, but it was apt. So very apt!

  'Sophie, could we get moving now?' Brian had wound his car window down to prompt impatiently. 'I know it's the weekend tomorrow, but I still have to go to work, and it's late-'

  'Well, lucky old you!' she ground out furiously as she marched across the road to wrench open the passenger door—such a gentleman to get out and open the door for her, she didn't think!—and got in beside him. ‘Thanks to you I—oh, never mind.' She glared across the width of the car at him. 'Just drive, will you?' She hunched down in her seat. 'I'm no more anxious to spend any more time in your company than you are in mine!' She scowled unseeingly ahead of her.

  'I didn't say-Oh, all right,' Brian sighed wearily as the fierceness of her glowering glare was turned on him. 'But it seems to me you're making an awful fuss about this whole business,' he muttered to himself as he accelerated the car forward. 'I made a mistake. I've apologised. I don't know why we can't just forget the whole incident,' he added in a disgruntled voice.

  That was the whole point; he had no idea that she would probably not be allowed to forget it! Aunt Millie, waiting up for her at home, wasn't likely to let her forget it in a hurry. And to her mind, much more significantly, there was Maximilian Grant...

  'Ally is going to kill me,' Brian sighed wearily as Sophie didn't confirm or deny his previous suggestion.

  Remembering the fiery temper of her friend from childhood, Sophie wouldn't be in the least surprised! 'It's no more than you deserve,' she told Brian now, although her tension had already started to diminish. ‘I should just let Ally have you,' she added teasingly. 'But I won't!' She gave a rueful smile now at the thought of it. 'It would be a little like throwing you to the lions!' She shook her head. ‘I can't actually see any reason why Ally has to know about this at all.' The fewer people who knew anything about tonight, the better; too many people knew about it already as far as she was concerned.

  'Thanks!' Brian said with obvious relief for the re­prieve—his gratitude having the effect of making Sophie feel somewhat guilty now, when she was just as anxious that the incident should be kept between the two of them. 'My sister can be a real nag when she wants to be.' He frowned at the thought.

  Talking of nags...she had better start thinking of what she was going to say to Aunt Millie when she got back!

  Sophie fell silent again just at the thought of it, her return of good humour fading too. By the time Aunt Millie had finished with her, she doubted she would have much to smile about!

  And so it was no surprise at all, as they approached the house, to see it ablaze with lights. 'Just drop me off here,' Sophie told Brian as they turned in the driveway, the house still some distance away. 'Ally has nothing on my aunt Millie when it comes to the "outraged dragon",' she explained with a grimace at his questioning look. 'And as you can see by the lights, she's still up!'

  Sophie could envisage her aunt right now, seated at the wooden table in the centre of the kitchen, the belt to her pink towelling bathrobe neatly tied at her ample waist, her rosy face bare of make-up, even the powder and lipstick she usually wore during the day, and there would possibly be rollers in her hair, depending on whether or not tonight was a hair-wash night; Sophie wasn't sure about the latter, had left too early in the evening to know one way or the other. But she did know her aunt wouldn't be reading or writing, or doing any­thing else for that matter, as she waited. She would just be waiting.

  Brian didn't need further discouragement, stopping the car while they were still well away from the house, turning in his seat to look at her. ‘If you'd like me to come in with you, I will,' he offered bravely.

  Sophie laughed softly. 'Now I know why I had a crush on you when I was younger! It's a nice offer, Brian, and I do appreciate it.' She squeezed his arm gratefully. 'But I believe Aunt Millie is best faced alone.' Mainly be­cause, in this instance, Brian was more likely to drop her further into trouble than she already was if he should say the wrong thing at the wrong time!

  As it was, Sophie was still trying to work out what she could say to her aunt—if she had a chance to say anything!

  'If you're sure that's what you'd prefer...' Brian ac­cepted with some relief. 'I'll call you in a few days, shall I, and—no?' He winced as he saw she was already shaking her head at the suggestion.

  'We're friends again, Brian; let's just leave it at that,' Sophie dismissed evenly. 'And don't try this on anyone else, hmm?' she advised as she pushed the car door open in preparation of getting out onto the gravelled driveway. 'You aren't very good at it!'

  'Thanks!' he returned drily. 'A man's ego certainly couldn't become inflated with you around, could it!'

  She chuckled softly before shutting the door and setting off down the driveway, grateful to Brian as she did so as he deliberately kept the car headlights brightly shining in that direction until she reached the door; it was a black, moonless night, and shadowy bushes edged the driveway in eerie silence.

  She turned and waved once she reached the door, vaguely registering that Brian was turning the car around and leaving now even as she saw, from the light streaming from the kitchen window, that sleek car of bottle-green parked outside. Sophie's nervousness returned anew at the sight of that car, and she entered the house on leaden feet.

  As soon as she entered the kitchen she could see she was wrong on all four counts concerning her aunt; she wasn't seated at the table but stood beside it putting a cup and saucer on a tray, she wasn't dressed for bed but wore one of her usual blue dresses with the pristine white collar, and her powder and lipstick looked newly ap­plied, and, although Sophie could see her aunt had washed her hair, it certainly wasn't in rollers but neatly brushed into style.

  Oh, well, here goes, Sophie groaned inwardly. 'Aunt Millie?'

  Her aunt was so startled, obviously not having heard Sophie's entrance, that she almost dropped the sugar bowl she had been about to put on the tray with the cup and saucer. She glared across at Sophie impatiently at the same time she slammed the sugar bowl down. ‘I didn't hear you get back,' she accused unnecessarily, her attention almost immediately returning to the tray, adding a coffee-pot and a jug of cream before nodding her satisfaction that everything seemed to be in place.

  'Just now,' Sophie nodded warily. 'Brian brought me back.' And this time she wasn't lying! 'Aunt Millie, I want to explain about-'

  'Not now, Sophie,' her aunt dismissed irritably, picking up the tray. 'Can't you see I'm busy?'

  Of course she could see her aunt was busy, but it was imperative she explain to her about-

/>   Her aunt frowned. ‘If you want to do something useful, Sophie, then open the door for me so that I can-'

  'Mrs Craine, I've decided I will have that sandwich you offered, after all.' The door to the main part of the house had been thrust open from the other side before Sophie could reach it, a man now standing in the doorway.

  A man with harshly hewn good looks, blond hair shot through with silver, and ice-cold blue eyes...

  CHAPTER TWO

  MAXIMILIAN GRANT

  The owner of this house and the extensive grounds that surrounded it. Her aunt's employer. And he had arrived unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

  Sophie had recognised his voice immediately he spoke as he opened the door, of course, had frozen in her pos­ition slightly behind that door—which was probably the reason he didn't seem to have seen her yet!

  Would he recognise her when he did see her?

  Recognise her as what, she wondered with a grimace? The young woman he had come across alone in the dark at the side of the road, apparently 'asking to be raped or worse'?

  What else was it he had called her? 'irresponsible', and—oh, God, he'd said she should choose her friends more wisely in future. And she was supposed to be here as the prospective companion, for the following week, to his young daughter! After the unforgettable list of offences he had already found her guilty of, she didn't think that was very likely to happen now.

  She gave a weary sigh at the thought of having to pack up her things and leave again so soon after she had got here; she had only arrived that very afternoon. But she now gave up all hope that Maximilian Grant wouldn't realise she had been that woman walking along the road in the dark; if she had recognised his voice instantly, then it was logical to assume he would recognise hers too, especially as the incident was still so new. And memorable. At least, she presumed he didn't stop along dark country roads to offer lifts to 'damsels in distress' every night of the week! Or even if he did—although he certainly hadn't given the impression of being a knight in shining armour!—they wouldn't all have turned out to be the woman seeking the position as companion to his daughter.

  Sophie couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as a perfectly ludicrous idea occurred to her. It must be the near-hysteria she felt at this whole situation that was causing it, but she had suddenly had an illusion of Mr Rochester with a car phone! OK, so she was taking poetic licence with the story, but there was no denying that they had met in the dark of night, nor that Maximilian Grant had been travelling, albeit in a car rather than on horseback, to his country home, nor that she was here as the companion he hadn't yet met to his young charge, this time a daughter rather than a ward.

  OK, she was taking more than poetic licence with this last bit; Maximilian Grant's daughter Jennifer wasn't home from school for the week's half-term holiday until tomorrow, and Sophie had yet to be officially given the job of keeping her occupied for the week. Another twist, a rather significant one in this case, was that Sophie was the one who had actually realised Maximilian Grant's identity, rather than the other way around, as it had been with Rochester and Jane. Perhaps not Mr Rochester with a car phone after all...

  She had been trying to cheer herself up with this non­sense, and now she realised she just felt more deflated than ever. Not depressed. She had made a vow to herself long ago that she wouldn't allow that emotion to colour her life. As she didn't boredom either. There was always something to see, too much to do, to give in to that malaise. But, even so, she realised that this time she was coming very close to it!

  'Roast chicken?'

  It took Sophie several seconds to realise her aunt was answering her employer's request for a sandwich. Her aunt had been expecting Maximilian Grant in the morning, had been cooking his favourite foods all day in preparation for the weekend, her employer having spent the weekdays in his London apartment, as he usually did. Much to Aunt Millie's chagrin; there was nothing she liked better than having someone to look after and feed. She had complained to Sophie only that afternoon, as she bustled about cooking pies and cakes, that she was sure Maximilian Grant didn't look after himself properly in London anyway, that she didn't understand why he didn't spend more time down here. It wasn't the same for her now as it had been with the last owners of Henley Hall, the Grays and their three children permanently in residence. But the Grays had sold up to Maximilian Grant over a year ago, and, although Aunt Millie had been asked to stay on as cook-housekeeper, she didn't enjoy it now as much as she had when the Grays and their three young children had lived here. Maybe now that Maximilian Grant and his daughter were both back... 'That will be fine,' he accepted tersely now. 'I'll take the coffee tray back with—' He broke off suddenly, turning sharply, pinning Sophie with those ice-blue eyes, his mouth thinning. 'I didn't realise you had company.' He turned back to her aunt almost accusingly.

  Sophie's tentative grin, on at last being spotted, turned into a sickly grimace at the open hostility in his voice now. Gone was the abruptly polite employer who had been talking to her aunt, and in his place was—Sophie wasn't sure...

  He must have known the person he was thinking of employing as Jennifer's companion was coming here, because he had asked that she be here for an interview on Saturday morning before his daughter came home from boarding-school at lunchtime, and he also knew she was his housekeeper's niece, so that couldn't be the problem either. And yet he was reacting to her presence here now as if she were some sort of intruder. It didn't make sense. She hadn't even spoken yet, so it couldn't be that!

  'I'm Sophie Gordon,' she decided to take the in­itiative when her aunt seemed as surprised by his at­titude towards her as she was, stepping forward to hold her hand out in polite greeting. 'Aunt Mil—er—Mrs Craine's niece,' she hastily amended at her aunt's frown, the beginnings of a blush darkening her cheeks as she saw Maximilian Grant's eyes narrow even more, in puzzlement this time.

  Her voice! He did recognise her voice, was looking her up and down critically now.

  And Sophie knew exactly what he would see: a shock of short red curls that refused to be tamed, huge hazel-coloured eyes that could be either green or brown, de­pending on her mood—right now they were definitely green!—a small snub nose, generously curving mouth, a determinedly pointed chin, her slight, almost boyish body clothed in the unaccustomed skirt and blouse, the satiny sheen to the latter being what had made it easy earlier for him to spot her in the headlights of his car. Well, at least she had done something sensible tonight, had worn something—even if it had been uninten­tionally at the time!—that could be clearly seen. Although she doubted 'sensible' was the word going through Maximilian Grant's mind at the moment con­cerning her; she was already well aware of what he thought of her! But Aunt Millie wasn't, and-

  'Ah, yes,' Maximilian Grant answered her slowly, the hostility gone now—to be replaced with dry mockery. 'You're here about the job,' he nodded tauntingly.

  And she could kiss goodbye to that job, Sophie read from the derisive glint in his eyes, her arm falling back to her side as he made no effort to shake her hand. Which meant that she could also say goodbye to the week's wages too. And she had needed that money. She doubted, in the circumstances, that he would feel like reimbursing her return train fare either, which made all of this a double blow. Well, she might just have to ask him for the latter; she couldn't afford, literally, to be proud.

  'That's right,' she confirmed brightly. 'I came down by train this afternoon so that I wouldn't be late for our interview in the morning.'

  Dark blond brows rose over mocking eyes. 'Very commendable, I'm sure,' he drawled softly. 'Although it could be called taking punctuality to the extreme!'

  She felt the heat in her cheeks at his undoubted sarcasm at her expense. ‘I thought it would be nice to spend some time with my aunt before—if my time here were to be taken up with Jennifer for the next week,' she defended with a shrug—and then wished she hadn't bothered as the mockery deepened in his expression, wry amusement quirki
ng a mouth that looked as if it could border on cruelty if crossed. Border? Go well over the edge!

  'Really?' Maximilian Grant murmured now, his stance challenging, his legs slightly apart, wearing dark fitted trousers that looked as if they might be part of a well-cut business suit, his snowy-white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, although he had probably worn a tie with it earlier; he didn't look the type to dress casually very often, and today had been a working day. The tie would have been silk too, Sophie guessed ruefully; Maximilian Grant's business empire had made him a millionaire many times over. 'And did the two of you have a pleasant evening together talking over family and old times?' he enquired pleasantly now.

  Too pleasantly! He knew, damn him—she was sure now that he did! —that she hadn't spent the evening with her aunt at all, believed she had spent them in the arms of her lover, Brian Burnett!

  But, Sophie puzzled with a frown, as he did know that, and they both knew that he did, why didn't he just tell her aunt? Whatever his reason, she was sure it had nothing to do with helping her avoid the severe verbal reprimand she would get from her aunt if she were to be told Sophie had already made the acquaintance of her employer, and under circumstances Aunt Millie cer­tainly wouldn't approve of!

  ‘We spent the afternoon catching up on family news,’ her aunt was the one to answer him in perfect innocence of the taunt, obviously pleased at how well Sophie and her employer appeared to be getting on together. She had actually recommended Sophie for this job, and would feel it reflected badly on her if Sophie should now prove unsuitable.

  Unsuitable, Sophie realised with an inward groan, had to be the very least of what Maximilian Grant thought of her. Although the most she could hope for was that he wouldn't be too frank with her aunt when he told her that!