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  Sian followed her up a few minutes later, waiting until her sister had come off the telephone before talking to her. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting back?’ She frowned at the chaos that was her sister’s bedroom, clothes and magazines strewn everywhere.

  ‘Mm.’ Bethany had a self-satisfied smile on her face, unconcerned with the mess about her. ‘I just checked at the Swan. Jarrett’s due there any day now.’

  Sian’s heart gave an unexpected lurch. So soon! Heavens, he could even turn up today. Her hunted feeling earlier while she shopped no longer seemed so far-fetched.

  ‘Bethany, it’s two-fifteen,’ she reminded her sharply.

  ‘So Gloria will have a moan at me for being late.’ Her sister seemed unworried. ‘She knows I’m the best stylist she has.’

  ‘Ex-stylist, if you don’t stop messing her about,’ Sian warned. ‘You were late this morning too.’

  ‘I needed those denims. And they weren’t ironed.’

  ‘I’ve already told you I haven’t had time to do the ironing yet—’

  ‘Sian, don’t you ever regret being a slave to Daddy and me?’ Bethany frowned. ‘You’ve been taking care of us for the last eight years, and you never moan or complain.’

  Sian’s smile was tight. ‘I didn’t realise I was a slave, I thought I did it because we’re family.’

  Bethany stood up to hug her. ‘We are,’ she smiled. ‘But don’t you ever feel like a break? Don’t you ever want to just say “to hell with you” and just leave?’

  ‘When you were an audacious little brat of thirteen I felt like it a lot of times,’ Sian laughed as Bethany blushed. ‘But I’ve never really considered leaving you and Daddy.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘Mummy—well, she expected me to take care of you both.’

  ‘But you were only fourteen yourself. Didn’t you—’

  ‘Bethany,’ she interrupted patiently, ‘Gloria may be very forbearing where you’re concerned—and that may be because you’re her best stylist,’ she mocked gently. ‘But—’

  ‘Who does your hair for you!’

  ‘You do,’ Sian laughed as her sister rose to her bait. ‘But even Gloria has her breaking point. You’re going to be at least half an hour late already.’

  Bethany grimaced. ‘And I have Mrs Jones’s blue rinse to do,’ she groaned.

  ‘So much for a client’s secrets!’

  Her sister laughed. ‘Careful, or I’ll tell everyone about that grey hair I found amongst all that red last week!’

  ‘It was blonde,’ Sian pretended indignation.

  ‘If you say so,’ Bethany taunted. ‘As you pulled it out we’ll never know—until you get two grown back in its place, that is.’

  ‘Get back to work!’ Sian laughed.

  ‘I’m going, I’m going,’ Bethany picked up a magazine and handed it to Sian. ‘I found that magazine with the article about Jarrett in,’ and she hurriedly left the room, running down the stairs, and the roar of the Mini’s engine soon told Sian her sister was on her way back into town.

  She held the magazine in her hands for long timeless minutes without looking at it. She was afraid to look at it! And she was afraid of Bethany’s single-minded interest in Jarrett; she knew better than anyone how he could hurt her young sister with his cruelty and indifference to anyone’s wishes but his own.

  Finally she had to look at the magazine article; she couldn’t stop herself any longer, her breath catching in her throat at the familiar figure in the photograph, the long muscled legs, the lean thighs only just covered by the green bathing trunks, the taut stomach and powerful chest, the whole of his body deeply tanned, his chest covered with a fine sheen of dark blond hair. Lastly she looked at his face—a face little changed, the jaw still as determined, his mouth still as forceful, sensually so, his nose long and hawkish, jutting out below deeply green eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes, his brows the same dark blond, a startling contrast to the sun-bleached fairness of his hair. Bethany was right, Jarrett was devastating, although she wondered at the cynicism in his eyes, the lines of decadence beside his nose and mouth. He obviously hadn’t spent the last three years longing for Swannell—or anyone in it.

  She read the article with the picture, of how his uncle had died several months ago and he was now in complete control of the King Construction Company, of how he intended extending the company more in England.

  A sudden panicky thought entered Sian’s mind. Suppose he was coming to Swannell with that purpose in mind? Suppose—No, the King office in Swannell had long since closed up; Jarrett’s move to America had forced that decison. He must just be coming here out of curiosity’s sake, to see the town that had once been his home, the town that had been his stepping-stone to the multi-millionaire he now was.

  She forced herself to read the rest of the article, getting lost in the maze of assets that King Construction had, although the cryptic comment at the end of the article puzzled her somewhat. Obviously it was one of those ‘in’ magazines, the type that thought you already knew the life history of its victim, and the mention of some woman called Arlette meant nothing to her. ‘And while the more than attractive Mr King is in his native England, the lonely Arlette will be cooling her heels in New York as she waits for his return. If I were Mr King I would want the lovely Arlette with me!’ came the reporter’s personal comment.

  Arlette. She didn’t need to be told that this was the latest woman in Jarrett’s life; it was all too obvious. She would be beautiful, of course, would have the sophistication and raw sensuality that he liked. God, that he demanded!

  Sian threw the magazine down on the bed in disgust, going determinedly down the stairs. She had wasted enough time thinking about Jarrett for one day, she doubted he would waste a minute of his valuable time thinking of the naïve teenager he had left behind him without a qualm.

  It was already after three o’clock, she would have to hurry if she was to do the housework before she went back to the surgery. She hated being rushed, and inwardly blamed Jarrett King for upsetting her routine. Everyone in Swannell knew he had made a success of his life—did he have to come back and flaunt it!

  She arrived back at the surgery with only a minute to spare, smiling at Chris as he came out to speak to her. He was a very handsome man, with unruly dark curls that he kept short, laughing blue eyes that could be stormy with emotion, with a tall athletic body, and he enjoyed all sports; he and Sian often challenged each other to a game of tennis—which she usually lost.

  Chris and his family had come to Swannell almost three years ago, and Chris had been in partnership with Martin Cross for most of that time. Their veterinary practice was very successful.

  It had been Chris’s love and gentleness with the animals he treated that had first attracted her to him, although it had taken him some time to persuade her to even go out with him. Now she wore his ring, her admiration for him having turned to love during the year they had been dating.

  He bent to kiss her lightly on the lips, the door still firmly locked against the public. ‘Have a good afternoon, love?’

  ‘A bit hectic’ She put all thought of Jarrett King from her mind, feeling it was disloyal to Chris to even think of another relationship she had had in the past when she was engaged to marry him. ‘And you?’ she smiled.

  ‘Fine,’ he nodded, sitting on the edge of her desk. ‘Feel like going out to dinner tonight?’

  Her brows rose. ‘What are we celebrating?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he smiled, looking boyish despite his thirty years. Sian had to resist the impulse to smooth back the unruly lock of dark hair from his forehead. ‘You’re looking beautiful, it’s a lovely day, and I think we can afford to go out for one meal,’ he teased.

  She didn’t dispute that fact, knew they had enough saved for several meals if they wanted them. They had been saving hard lately, allowing little for luxuries, perhaps a nice meal out was what they needed. ‘I’d like that,’ she agreed, smiling ruefully as the doorbell rang. ‘Your first customer.’ Sh
e stood up to unlock the door.

  He grimaced, kissing her lightly on the mouth once again. ‘Let’s hope it’s a nice quiet hamster to start with. They can bring the snakes in later!’

  Sian was laughing as she opened the door. Several weeks ago the local zoo had made an urgent call to Chris about one of their reptiles, and when he got there he found it was a boa constrictor! She had a feeling he regretted being on call to the zoo after that visit.

  The next couple of hours passed quickly, with a constant stream of cats and dogs and rabbits needing Chris and Martin’s expert attention—but no snakes, thank goodness! For Sian her time at work always passed with high speed, mainly because no two days were the same and because she enjoyed what she was doing.

  It was seven-thirty before she and Chris were ready to leave, Chris driving to her home so that she could change her clothes for going out. Chris came into the house with her, and went straight into the lounge to sit with her father, the two men getting along with an easy familiarity.

  Bethany was on the telephone when Sian reached the top of the stairs, and she gave Sian a startled look before ringing off and following Sian into her bedroom. ‘You’re early,’ she frowned.

  ‘It’s almost eight,’ she shrugged.

  ‘Oh,’ her sister gave a light laugh, ‘in that case you’re late. I—er—Are you staying in this evening?’

  ‘No, as a matter of fact I’m going out.’ Sian gave Bethany a sharp look. ‘You aren’t bringing Jeremy here again, are you?’ she frowned. ‘You know Daddy can’t stand him.’

  ‘Jeremy and I broke up ages ago,’ her sister dismissed impatiently. ‘Well, at least a week ago,’ she amended ruefully. ‘No, I just wondered because I’m going out too.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I—Could I borrow your black blouse?’ Bethany asked breathlessly. ‘It looks really good with my grey velvet trousers. You aren’t going to wear it, are you?’ she added hopefully.

  ‘No.’ Sian laughingly threw the blouse to her sister. ‘Thank goodness I’m taller than you and so none of my dresses fit you, otherwise you’d be borrowing all of my clothes!’

  Bethany stood up to leave, looking a little hurt. ‘You can borrow anything of mine you want.’

  ‘Not tonight,’ she refused, her sister’s taste in fashion tending to be a little too young for her, her own style tending to be smart and well-tailored rather than strictly fashionable. ‘Have a good time,’ and she hurried to use the bathroom first.

  ‘You too,’ Bethany said absently.

  Sian had no doubt about enjoying herself. Chris was always good company, and the food at the Raven restaurant was excellent without being too much of a strain on the pocket. It was a quietly intimate restaurant, only holding about forty people, exactly the sort of place to go to unwind after a busy day.

  ‘I’m glad I suggested this,’ Chris said as they waited for their meal to be served. He was obviously starting to relax now, his hand holding hers across the width of the table.

  ‘So am I,’ she smiled at him warmly, wondering how she could have been so lucky as to have a man as gentle and considerate as Chris fall in love with her. He looked so handsome in the navy blue suit and light blue shirt, his skin lightly tanned, and she knew that many women would envy her escort.

  But for the moment her attention was riveted on the man standing at the doorway. And well it might! Jarrett hadn’t changed at all, was still a powerful presence, an aura of arrogance and assurance emanating from him, even the casualness of his clothes, the black fitted trousers and dark green shirt making him stand out as a man alone.

  But he was far from alone! Standing at his side, looking very beautiful, was Bethany!

  Sian’s eyes widened as she saw the way her sister clung to Jarrett’s arm, the way she gazed up at him with adoring eyes, and she knew Jarrett had made a conquest. An easy one, if Bethany’s bemused expression was anything to go by.

  Finally she forced herself to look back at Jarrett, and felt a jolt go through her body as she found green eyes fixed on her in total recognition. For timeless seconds their gazes locked as they stared at each other, Sian seeing the way Jarrett’s eyes darkened in colour, his mouth curving into a smile, an intimately enticing smile that three years ago would have had her running impetuously into his waiting arms.

  But that was three years ago; she had Chris now! With a cool nod of recognition, she deliberately broke her gaze from Jarrett’s and turned away; the mystery of how Bethany came to be with Jarrett when this afternoon she hadn’t so much as spoken to him could be answered by her sister later. But she had a feeling her sister wasn’t going to come out of it favourably.

  ‘Chris, I—’

  ‘Sian, how are you?’

  Not even his voice had changed, still deep and slightly husky, completely confident, nothing hesitant about this man at all.

  She turned slowly, willing herself to meet Jarrett’s gaze unflinchingly. He towered over their table, lean and attractive, deep lines of experience etched into his face, a wariness to his eyes as he looked steadily down at her.

  She swallowed hard, her hand unconsciously clutching tighter to Chris’s, although she was unaware of his sharp look. ‘I’m well, thank you, Jarrett.’ Her voice came out cool and composed—much to her surprise. This was all like some horrendous dream, and she was surprised she could talk at all.

  ‘Good,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, Sian,’ he added huskily before turning to Chris. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mr…?’ he looked enquiringly at the other man.

  Chris stood up. ‘Newman, Christopher Newman,’ he supplied, politely shaking the other man’s extended hand, his expression a little wary as he eyed him curiously.

  ‘My fiancé,’ Sian put in pointedly—and then wondered why she needed to challenge Jarrett in this way. What possible interest could it be to him what Chris meant to her, or what part he played in her life?

  ‘Indeed?’ Jarrett drawled, the expression in his eyes hidden now, his lids hooded. ‘I had heard that you were engaged, Sian. When is the wedding?’

  She paled at the look of fierce anger in his face, unable to answer him. She couldn’t have spoken if her life had depended on it, her tongue seeming cleaved to the roof of her mouth. She looked at Chris appealingly.

  ‘Next month,’ she heard him answer Jarrett. ‘Just four more weeks and Sian will be my wife,’ he added with satisfaction.

  The anger in Jarrett’s eyes threatened to flare out of control. And Sian knew why. She had just four weeks to go before she and Chris married, when three years ago she should have married Jarrett!

  CHAPTER TWO

  THIS man should have been her husband, and if he hadn’t chosen to join his uncle in America when he did he probably would be. But would he? Jarrett looked as if he enjoyed the freedom and power his new wealth gave him, and if he looked a little jaded that was his business. Although she would take a guess at a woman being involved—there always had been!—possibly the Arlette the magazine had referred to so pointedly. Why hadn’t he brought the other woman with him?

  Maybe, as with her, he preferred to leave the current woman in his life at home, to forget about her while he found someone else to amuse him. And it looked as if that ‘someone else’ was going to be Bethany!’

  Her sister had been sixteen when Sian had been dating Jarrett, and at the time he had treated Bethany like a troublesome child. That hadn’t been surprising. Bethany had always wanted to tag along with him, never left them alone for a minute when they were in the house, and at thirty-three Jarrett had already been highly sensual, his passion surpassing any other man’s she had ever known. Bethany had cramped his style, but now it seemed she was old enough to be at the receiving end of that fiery desire that had so unnerved Sian three years ago. In those days, when she was alone with Jarrett, she hadn’t been able to control her response to him, and she now feared that mindless obsession for Bethany.

  Not that her sister looked as
if it frightened her; she was clinging unashamedly to his arm, small and kittenish, unaware of the leashed danger in the man standing at her side, at the devastation he could wreak in a woman’s life before he walked away without so much as a backward glance.

  As he had with her! Oh, she had loved him so much then, would have done anything for him. But her unreserved love hadn’t been enough for him.

  ‘Darling?’

  She looked almost dazedly at Chris, seeing his puzzled frown. ‘Sorry?’ she said jerkily.

  ‘Mr King was offering us his congratulations.’

  ‘Really?’ She turned to look at Jarrett, unable to read his reaction now. His expression was deliberately bland, the fierce anger gone.

  It was an anger he had had no right to feel in the first place! She had waited for him to come back to her, had waited a long slow lifetime for him to come back, but he never had. He had no right to feel anything about the fact that she was marrying another man.

  ‘But of course,’ he drawled now. ‘Why don’t you join Bethany and me and we can have a celebration dinner on your behalf?’

  ‘That’s very—’

  ‘No!’ Sian’s sharp denial interrupted Chris, and she flushed as Jarrett’s eyes narrowed to hard green pebbles, not even daring to look at Chris for his reaction to her outburst. Poor Chris must be wondering what on earth was going on! ‘We’ve already started our meal,’ she added more calmly, indicating the half-eaten melon on their plates.

  Jarrett shrugged. ‘You could easily transfer to our table. It would be no trouble, I’m sure.’ He made it sound as if he would make sure it wasn’t!

  ‘Can’t you see that they would rather be alone, Jarrett?’ Bethany cooed up at him. ‘They probably have plans for the wedding to discuss.’

  Green eyes narrowed at this suggestion, and once again Sian was given the impression that the idea of her marriage to Chris displeased him.