The enchanted ring

by Lucy Gillen

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE afternoon was so bright and sunny that Rowan was encouraged to try pastures new, so instead of taking one of her more usual routes she went on through the village and out to the open country the other side of the bridge. This, she felt sure, could not be Michael Doran's land and she could safely cross it without either taking advantage of his offer or risking a shotgun going off behind her. There was a great open expanse of green that lay back from the road as far as she could see, with a river or stream running through it which immediately attracted her. The sun was warm on her back and did not irritate her eyes, although she realised she would have to face it coming back. The turf, soft and springy as any carpet, offered comfortable walking and she marvelled at the utter stillness of it all. It seemed that she might have been miles from the nearest sign of man and that the bees bustling from clover to clover were the only swift movement in sight. The stream ran lazily, the usual peat-stained water making a soft lulling sound that was almost soporific, and Rowan stood at the edge of it thinking that she too might wax poetic in such surroundings. She thought of Rupert Brady and smiled. He was not as helpless and fey as some people might think him, but he had a charm and strange attractiveness that was all his own. One that he used to his own advantage and was honest enough to admit to doing it. It was while she stood contemplating some way of 38 crossing the stream that a small alien sound made her turn her head curiously. She had not at first recognised the soft jingle of a bridle, but now as she looked up at the newcomer she drew a breath sharply and looked at him uncertainly. 'Were you thinking of trying to cross?' Michael Doran asked her. From where she stood he looked enormous up there on the big grey he rode with his customary air of arrogance and Rowan could feel the rapid, almost panicky beat of her heart as he looked down at her with an expression as much amused as curious. 'I was thinking of it,' she admitted, and he smiled. 'Not. in one giant stride, I trust? You'll come to grief as sure as eggs if you try it.' His amusement did nothing to help but merely made her think of ways of proving him wrong. His arrogance combined with the many things she had learned about him in the past few days made her angry and she lifted her chin defiantly, a sparkle of anger in her eyes that made them truly green. 'It's not so wide,' she argued, looking back at the stream and wondering if she would ever have the nerve to attempt the crossing. 'Too wide for you,' he told her bluntly. 'Let me give you a lift if you're intent on crossing.' 'A lift?' she looked at him curiously. 'I'm going over anyway,' he informed her, 'and Phelan is quite capable of carrying you as well.' She looked dubiously at the big grey and believed him, but she had no intention of getting so close to him as that, so she shook her head. 'No, thank you, Mr. Doran.' 'So you don't trust me,' he taunted. 'I suppose Maxwell's been busy blacking my character or was it Brady? Or even Mary Donovan, perhaps? You've plenty of scope in that house among Laura O'Neil's collection of lame dogs.' It was a cruel and unnecessarily harsh reminder of her own position and she Hushed with resentment, although he could not have known that she was included. However, there was no use in denying that she had been influenced by what she had been told about him, although his manner towards her did nothing to improve her opinion and she lifted her chin. 'No one's judged you, Mr. Doran. I told you once before, I form my own opinions of people.' His mouth crooked into a caricature of a smile. 'And you've decided that I'm., an undesirable character after two brief meetings,' he accused, slapping the riding crop viciously hard against his boot, the sound startling her so that she caught her breath. 'I didn't say that,' she denied. His expression despised her. 'Don't lie about it, woman, at least have the decency to be honest about your opinions.' 'Don't speak to me like that,' Rowan told him, her anger renewed, 'and don't call me woman I' The grey eyes swept over her from head to toe in one expressive, blood-stirring look and he laughed in a way that set her pulses racing. 'Why not?' he demanded. 'You are a woman, any fool can see that.' The flutter of panic became an urgent tattoo against her ribs and she wanted nothing so much as to run as fast as her legs would carry her, only now they felt too weak to move and instead she stood wide-eyed and fearful, everything she had heard about him whirling through her head chaotically. 'I must go back,' she said, horrified to hear the way her voice trembled. 'Because you're afraid of me?' The prospect seemed 40 to amuse him afresh and his eyes glittered in a way that added to her nervousness. 'No! No, of course not!' I 'Of course not,' he mocked, and laughed again, a ideep sound that trickled along her spine like a warnling. But despite the warning she was unprepared for the sudden strength of his arms closing round her and ?the hard ruthlessness of his mouth, and she was un-Iresisting for a second before she began to struggle 'wildly. 'Doran ' Her own struggles ceased perhaps before he released her and they both turned to see Sean Maxwell regarding them, his dark face positively thunderous. 'Sean!' It was perhaps not the most appropriate time to use his Christian name for the first time, but she realised that his anger was directed entirely against Michael Doran and he looked very much as if he might 'hit him. Sean put out a hand to her and instinctively she placed her own in it and moved to stand beside him, aware of Michael Doran's mocking smile as she did so. 'I could point out that you're trespassing,' he said quietly, 'but since I've given Miss Blair permission to cross my land as often as she pleases, I can't really say anything if her watchdog follows, can I?' 'One of these days, Doran ' The threats were dismissed with a short laugh which Rowan felt held as much bitterness as anything Sean said. 'Threats, Maxwell? Don't bother I've heard them all before.' 'Sean, please let's go back.' Rowan tugged urgently at his hand. 'Please!' Michael Doran laughed again, a short, mocking sound, and his gaze held Rowan's steadily for a long moment before she lowered her eyes. 'Can you resist 41 such a plea. Maxwell?' he asked. 'I'm sure I couldn't.' Rowan could feel the hand she held trembling and realised how much self-control it required to merely turn away as he did. Neither of them turned to look back until they reached the road and then only Rowan turned her head briefly in time to see the tall, lone figure on the grey horse riding away, across the land the other side of the stream. 'I'm sorry you got involved, Sean,' Rowan told him, wondering how much of the blame he would attribute to her. 'I didn't become involved,' he said, and added with a wry smile, 'thanks to you.' She shook her head. 'No thanks to me,' she argued. 'I I shouldn't have got myself into such a position and I'm glad you came along when you did.' 'I hoped you would be,' he told her. 'I didn't think you were a willing partner in that that incident.' 'I just didn't realise he owned that land as well,' Rowan said. 'I felt sure I'd gone far enough on to be well away from his property.' 'He owns everything,' Sean said bitterly. 'Every damned acre he can lay his hands on.' 'He's still buying land?' He shook his head, reluctantly honest. 'No, he's not buying it. All he has he inherited from his father, except that.' He inclined his head back the way they had come. 'And I suppose you could say he inherited that too in a way.' It was clear to Rowan suddenly why he had looked so black-browed and bitter about finding her there with Michael Doran and she looked up at him with pity in her eyes. 'That was was yours,' she guessed. 'Mrs. O'Neil told me,' she added hastily. 'I'm sorry, Sean.' He shook his head, his expression slightly less tense 42 .now. 'I'll get it back one day,' he vowed, half to himself. 'Even if I have to break Doran's neck to get it.' Time in Bogmoor, Rowan discovered, passed far more swiftly than she would have expected and it was difficult to believe that she had been there more than two weeks already. She spent most of her time in the garden at the back of the house. It had been Rowan's idea to restore order, at least in part, to the overgrown garden, clearing and trimming the shrubs and borders, and she set about it with a will, feeling that at least by doing that she was earning her keep. 'No more,' Laura told her laughingly one day. 'We've done enough for the time being, Rowan. If you still have some energy left why don't you go for a walk? I know you enjoy walking.' 'I do,' Rowan agreed, 'but there seems to be so few places I can go without straying into Michael Doran's territory.' 'That's true enough,' Laura agreed, 'but
as you have his permission why let it worry you?' 'It doesn't really, I suppose,' Rowan allowed, 'it's just that ' 'That she doesn't want to get involved too closely with the lord of the manor.' To all appearances Rupert Brady was asleep on the settee, his great black head relaxed against the cushions, but he opened one eye and looked at Rowan with a glitter of laughter. 'Right, Rowan.' 'I no, not that exactly,' Rowan denied 'It's just that oh, I don't know. He's so arrogant, every time I see him I feel my hackles rise and I want to be in tensely rude to him.' 'How often have you seen him?' Laura asked r curiously. 'Only about halt a dozen times all told, I suppose,' t 43 Rowan admitted. 'It seems difficult to avoid him.' ,: 'It would be,' Rupert remarked dryly. 'He's probably going out of his way to make sure you don't avoid him.' He opened that same shrewd eye again and looked at her. "Has he made any move yet?' 'Move?' It was perfectly clear to Rowan what he meant, but she hesitated to acknowledge it. 'A move in your direction, exquisite creature. Doran's supposed to have a certain fascination for your sex, so I'm told. Hasn't he approached you yet?' "Oh no No, of course not.' She disallowed that brief, savage kiss as merely an impulse and unless Sean had spoken to Laura about it, he was the only other person who knew. 'One day last week,' Rupert remarked carelessly, 'you went out alone and came back with Sean Maxwell, and our good Saint Francis looked as if he was bursting with indignation about something.' He shrugged. 'I just wondered.' Rowan felt the colour in her cheeks, but she resolutely refused to be drawn. 'Well, you drew-the wrong conclusion, Rupert.' He opened both eyes and sat up, running his hands through his hair and further disrupting it. 'Well, I'm glad I drew the wrong conclusion in this instance, although I don't often. I'd hate to think of you ending up as Doran's ' 'Rupert!' Laura shushed him hastily, but he looked undeterred. 'It's possible,' he insisted, 'knowing Doran.' 'But not knowing Rowan,' Laura argued. For a moment the wild, dark eyes looked at Rowan steadily, then he shook his head. 'I don't know Rowan,' he said, 'not well enough to judge her so far. After all, I thought I knew my own sister, but she went to Doran and look what it got her.' 44 I 'Your sister?' Something in Rowan's mind clicked I'into place and she remembered the conversation at I, dinner a couple of weeks ago, only minutes before Rupert had made his entrance. 'Maggie Brady,' she said, half to herself, and saw Rupert's head nodding agreement. 'I didn't realise she was your sister, Rupert.' 'Well, she is, for her sins,' he acknowledged. 'She's a lot younger than Rupert,' Laura enlarged for Rowan's benefit. Rupert got up from the settee, stretching lazily, and Rowan thought, yet again, how painfully thin he looked. 'She's only a baby compared to old man time here,' he grinned, 'but far more likely to enjoy a ripe ' old age.' He nodded his great untidy head briefly. 'Well, : I'll leave you to your gossip. I feel the mood coming on . me. Farewell, sweet maids.' ' Neither of the women spoke for several minutes after he had left the room, then Laura sighed deeply and Rowan thought there was .a brightness in her eyes that betrayed a nearness to tears. 'Poor Rupert,' she said softly at last. 'I could cry when I think of ' She ' shrugged as if she had almost said too much. : 'Is is there something wrong?' Rowan asked, undeniably curious. Ts Rupert ill?' Laura shook her head. 'I promised,' was all she would say, 'but be nice to him, Rowan, he takes to so few people and he likes you.' It was almost like being a lady of leisure. Rowan thought, since so little was required of her, and she won�u dered sometimes if Sean considered her in the same light as he did Rupert. He had been very acid about what he called Rupert's idleness and in view of her own activity, or lack of it, in the job she had been engaged to do she supposed she was as bad as Rupert. i. Laura actually encouraged her to go out during the [ 45 day, although she always spent the evening in her company. More often than not there were only the two of them, although Sean seemed to be spending more time with them lately, a fact which Laura did not fail to notice or comment on. The countryside was enchanting and, although she must almost inevitably stray on to Michael Doran's property if she walked nearer home, she avoided meeting him whenever it was possible. The fact that he seemed to find her evasive tactics amusing only made Rowan more determined not to meet him any more often than she had to. Through June and into July the weather remained almost perfect, at least if one had very little to do but be out of doors most of the time. The only time that it was other than sunny was when a very fine, soft rain fell sometimes, mostly in the evenings, and this, in turn, made for misty mornings. Even this Rowan found had its own enchantment in the soft, silent swirls that seemed only to linger in the hollows and seldom if ever reached the higher ground. She had crossed the little brown stream several times since her encounter with Michael Doran, discovering a small but quite safe wooden bridge a few yards further along. Beyond the bridge and off to her left the country was even more open and from the top of a hill she could see for miles across green, undulating fields ribboned round with low stone boundary walls and little bridges. She had grown used, too, to the little cottages and their inhabitants. The small patches of well-worked ground where the people dug for a rather meagre living, although some owned a cow or a couple of pigs. It never failed to amaze her that, no matter how low their standard of living, the villagers seemed always to be a happy friendly lot and quite contented with the little 46 ' they had. Rowan got to know one or two people fairly well and she was always greeted with smiles and a word, and more than once she had stayed and chatted with one of the women instead of going for her intended walk. It was no great surprise therefore when she was called upon to help when a precious cow fell sick. 'I'll fetch Mr. Maxwell,' she told the worried owner. 'He'll know what to do and it won't take long for him to get here if I run.' For all her running when she arrived back at the . house she found that Sean had left in her absence and her efforts had been in vain. 'Murphy's is'nearly two miles away,' Laura told her when she asked after Sean, 'and it's no good trying to contact him because no one's on the phone and he's going on into Gallyborn after he leaves there.' 'Oh dear, I gather it's rather urgent,' Rowan said, frowning her frustration. "I don't know anything about sick cows, or healthy ones either come to that, but Mr. O'Hare said it's very poorly, something he can't handle himself. What am I going to do, Mrs. O'Neil? I feel as if I'm letting him. down after I told him I'd get help.' 'It's very upsetting, I know,' Laura agreed sympathetically, 'but Murphy's place is right in the middle of nowhere. He'd have to walk almost a mile to the nearest phone to call Sean out, and that's a public callbox only meant for stranded motorists and such.' 'Oh, lord I' Rowan's brow creased worriedly. I don't know quite what to suggest,' Laura said, 'unless I ask Rupert to take my old wreck of a car out, -and I don't like doing that for two reasons first the : state of the car and second Rupert's driving.' Rowan was already leaving the house, very down hearted, when she suddenly snapped her fingers, a speculative half smile on her face as she saw a possible I 47 solution to the problem some way along the road. 'There's the answer to all our troubles,' she declared, with a brief, questioning glance at Laura, and her employer looked in the direction of her pointing finger. 'Michael Doran,' she said doubtfully. 'Oh, Rowan, you can't ask him to help, can you?' 'I can and I'm going to,' Rowan declared, her chin angled determinedly. 'He ought to be prepared to help after all, Mr. O'Hare's his tenant. That cow is very precious to the old man.' 'But, Rowan ' 'Lean but try,' Rowan told her, and waved a hand at Laura as she set off down the road after the tall figure on the grey horse. He was riding away from her, but the animal was not hurrying at all and she could catch him if she hurried and he did not suddenly decide to put on speed. She knew, somehow instinctively, that if she called to him he would turn quickly enough. It would mean swallowing her pride to a certain extent, but that she was prepared to do if it would mean helping the old man. She walked as fast as she could and ran the last few yards so that her cry had a breathless sound when she called out to him, 'Mr. Doran!' She thought for a moment he had not heard her, but then he turned his head and looked over his shoulder at her, a hint of disbelief in his eyes when he saw who it was. A moment later he turned the animal round and
came back towards her, sliding from the saddle as he reached her. 'What's wrong?' he asked, and the expression on his face told her that he had misinterpreted the dishevelled picture she presented. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair tumbled down from its usual place on top of her head. 48 T I wanted to ask your help,' It was far more difficult to know how to begin than she had anticipated even, now that he stood facing her. The grey eyes looked curious and perhaps a little anxious, but she felt horribly uncertain how he would react to her request for help. 'Of course I'll help,' he said, sounding vaguely impatient. 'If you tell me what's wrong.' He swept a look over her from head to toe. ,'You're not hurt, are you?' 'No no, it isn't me, it's it's an animal that's sick and needs attention.' His eyes narrowed, more curious than ever. 'An animal?' He laughed shortly. 'I think you've got the wrong man. Miss Blair. Maxwell's the vet, not me.' 'But he's already out,' Rowan said desperately. 'He's out at Murphy's and then he's going on into Gallyborn. We can't contact him.' He was silent for a moment, eyeing her steadily until she felt like screaming at him. 'Am I supposed to perform veterinary duties or go and fetch Maxwell?' he asked quietly at last, and Rowan bit on her lower lip hard. 'I thought you might you might try and catch . Sean before he leaves Murphy's,' she ventured. After another telling silence he laughed. A hundred tiny lines gave quite another character to the rugged face and, despite her preoccupation with other matters, Rowan still found the transformation fascinating to see. 'You thought I might try and catch him,' he said, and there was a hint of mockery as well as laughter in his [ eyes. 'What makes you think I'll do as you want me to?' I" For two pins Rowan would have walked off there I and then and left him, for her temper was rapidly growing shorter and her eyes shone greenly at him : as she lifted her chin, only the thought of poor old Mr. O'Hare keeping her there. 'Because it's time you fc 49 did .something for at least one of your tenants,' she told him. 'Being the lord of the manor doesn't exonerate you from responsibility, in fact it makes you more responsible than most.' He was silent again for a second. 'Lecture over?' he enquired softly, and Rowan felt the blood flush warmly into her face. � I wish you would go,' she said, unconsciously appealing. He turned and remounted and, as she watched him, Rowan felt like crying. Then he looked down at her. 'Who is it needs him?' he asked. 'Oh, thank you!' Rowan's eyes beamed her gratitude. 'It's Mr. O'Hare, his cow's very sick and he says it's something he can't treat himself.' 'His one and only cow.' He smiled wryly, his gaze speculative as he looked down at her. 'When I come back,' he told her as he put his heels to the grey, 'I shall expect payment for my services from you.' Rowan stared after him for a moment, uncertain if she had heard him right, then she shook her head and walked back to give Mr. O'Hare the news that Sean should be along soon. She reassured the old man, but there were other things on her mind now besides a sick cow. There had been a determined glint- in Michael Doran's eyes when he demanded payment for his services and she had no doubt he had meant it, but in what form she could only, rather wildly, guess. Thankfully it was not too long before Sean arrived and Rowan heaved a sigh of relief when she saw his little car draw up. 'Thank goodness he caught you,' she told him. 'I was afraid you might have already left Murphy's and Mr. O'Hare was frantic.' 'Of course he was,' Sean said, rather shortly, and brushed past her to seek his patient. There was no need for her to stay longer, so she smiled reassuringly at the old man and left the little cottage, leaving Sean busy and uncommunicative in the tumbledown stall at the back of the cottage, his face drawn into a frown. Whether the frown was for his patient or for the way he had been summoned. Rowan did not know, but it was obvious that he was not in the best of humours at the moment and Rowan felt it was best to leave without him. Explanations could come later. Laura looked up curiously when she came in and Rowan smiled. 'Did you think I'd got lost?' she asked. 'Not at all, dear,' Laura said, 'but I was anxious to know how you got on.' 'With Mr. Doran, you mean?' Rowan asked, and Laura nodded impatiently. 'I asked him.' 'And he went?' Laura looked unbelieving. 'After a a bit of persuasion,' Rowan admitted, and Laura's brows shot upwards. 'I talked him round,' she added hastily. 'Good for you, you must be a very good advocate, Rowan.' 'Maybe,' Rowan allowed, then shook her head. 'But I wish I knew what he meant by that remark.' 'What remark?' Laura was curious again. 'Oh oh, nothing really, just some cryptic remark Michael Doran made when he agreed to go for Sean.' It would be useless trying to keep it to herself, she realised having gone this far. 'He he said he'd expect payment for going,' she explained. 'Just as he rode off he said he would expect payment for his services from me.' Laura looked mildly shocked and still curious. 'Oh no, dear, I do hope you haven't given him the wrong impression of yourself. Are you sure you heard him right?' Rowan nodded. 'I heard him right, but I don't think he got any wrong impression, Mrs. O'Neil, I left him in no doubt about that.' 'Well, for heaven's sake don't let Sean know,' Laura , told her, 'or he'll go mad.' It was an opinion Rowan did not care to comment on, but she could believe it only too true when Sean returned from O'Hare's, the frown still in place between his brows. 'I know you'd rather anyone else had come for you than Michael Doran,' Rowan told him, hoping to placate him before he had time to lose his temper about it, 'but it was urgent, Sean, .and there was no other way of letting you know.' 'That that satyr!' Sean exploded. 'He was only too anxious for me to know who'd asked him to come for me.' They . were alone. Laura was writing letters and , Rupert was, as usual, off on some business of his own. It was lovely in the garden, but Rowan doubted if Sean noticed, he was so angry. 'I had to ask him, Sean, and there's really no need for you to be so angry about it.' 'Isn't there?' He.looked down at her, his blue eyes much darker than usual with the anger that still seethed in him. 'He knows how I feel about ' He stopped short and, after a second's silence, turned her round to face him, holding her hands between his own. 'Rowan, you know too, don't you?' 'Know?' It was difficult to keep the tremor out of her voice and more difficult still to meet his eyes without feeling her legs go suddenly weak. 'I love you.' Sean ' 'No, don't say I can't be,' he pleaded a finger over her lips. 'Hear me out first. Rowan. I know it's only a matter of a couple of months since I met you, but well, it's happened, that's all, and there's nothing I can do about it. Not that I want to,' he added hastily, and 52 let go her hands to lift her chin so that she looked at him. 'I love you. Rowan, I really do.' 'Sean, I don't know, I can't decide. I can't say I love you too, although there's no reason why I shouldn't.' She smiled at him. 'You're good-looking, you're sweet and kind and I like you enormously.' He made a wry face. 'Sweet and kind?' he echoed. "You make me sound like a little old ladyl' 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but please, Sean, give me more time.' He sighed, lifting the fall of red-gold hair from her neck. 'I'll try not to make a nuisance of myself,' he promised, 'but don't blame me too much if I'm not very patient, will you?' 'I won't.' She tiptoed and kissed him gently beside his mouth. 'You're a very attractive man, Sean Maxwell, and I should have my head examined for not taking immediate advantage of my opportunities.' His smile, she thought, looked less tense now and he held her for a moment longer before he put an arm round her shoulders and resumed walking. 'I'm glad you realise it,' he told her. 'I suppose you're not even likely to fall for a bit of good old Irish blarney if I try that, are you?' Rowan laughed at the hopeful suggestion. 'I might,' she admitted, 'but I'm slow to convince.' Slow to convince she might be. Rowan thought later, but it was a temptation to say yes and admit that she loved Sean as much as he professed to love her. There was no earthly reason why she should hesitate. She was very fond of him though not yet in love with him, and he was a very attractive man whom most girls would have been only too pleased to accept without any hesitation. Only Rowan had the idea that he would take a possible future change ofmind ashard as he would out and out rejection. It was going to be very difficult not 53 to hurt Sean and she must be very careful. She saw nothing of Michael Doran for several days afterwards and when she did she did her best to avoid speaking to him. She was perhaps being ungracious in view of the fact that he h
ad been so co-operative in fetching Sean when she asked him, but his last cryptic words still sat uneasily in her mind. She had walked along the bank of the little stream, well back from the road but still within sight of it, heading for the bridge that gave access to the far bank and the meadows beyond. It was her favourite walk and she came often, sometimes wondering if her choice was influenced by the knowledge that the land had once belonged to Sean's family. Whatever her reasons it was 'enough that she enjoyed the quiet solitude of it and the dreamlike, hazy views in the distance. She had almost gained the bridge when she sensed rather than heard someone coming up from behind her. Suspecting who the newcomer might be, she half turned her head and saw, as she expected, Michael Doran riding fast towards her, the big grey covering the ground at fantastic speed. For some reason she felt that if only she could reach the bridge and get across it she would not have to see him, although it was completely illogical to expect a small stream to deter him. She reached the bridge and hurried across to the other side, feigning not to notice him as he took the grey splashing through the water almost alongside her. From the corner of her eye she could see the dark head of the rider and she could guess the mingled humour and insolence in his eyes without actually seeing it. 'Miss Blair!' Rowan walked on, off the hollowsounding wooden bridge and on to the softness of turf again. 'Rowan!' She half turned her head this time and saw him dismount with a.jingle of harness, moving swiftly round 54 in front of her so that she was obliged to come to a halt. 'Please let me past, Mr. Doran.' She wished there was something she could do about the wildly racing pulse in her forehead as she faced him, the colour warm in her cheeks, her eyes green and shiny with anger, already on the defensive. 'We have some unfinished business,' he told her, a crooked smile etching its lines on his face. 'Remember?' 'I remember you made some facetious remark the other day about about payment,' Rowan admitted, far more boldly than she felt. 'I hardly thought you were serious, Mr. Doran.' 'Oh, I was serious.' Rowan looked at him warily, a small frown drawing her brows together. "You you can't be serious,' she told him at last. 'That sort of behaviour went out with the last century.' 'Did it?' If only he would say more than a few cryptic words or even make some movement. Rowan felt she would have known where she stood and what she should do next, but he merely stood in front of her, feet apart, perfectly at ease, the grey eyes darkly unreadable as he watched her. 'Thank you thank you for fetching Sean,' she ventured. 'I'm very grateful.' 'How grateful?' The pulse was hammering wildly now, almost audible as the blood pounded through her head. 'I I've said thank you, I don't know ' 'Is one kiss asking too much?' She felt sure he was laughing at her and the thought did nothing to ease her tension or improve her temper. 'Just just a kiss?' Why she had asked like that she had no idea, but his brows arched upwards to the thickness 55 of his hair. 'What else?' She looked at him wide-eyed, dismayed at being so misinterpreted. 'Oh oh, you ' His laugh cut short her protest and his hands held her arms, not tightly enough to hurt but enough to keep her firmly where he wanted her. The grey eyes were closer now and even that close it was impossible to read their expression. 'Don't you believe in paying your debts?' he asked. 'But but you can't think I took you seriously,' Rowan objected, her voice horribly unsteady. 'Of course I thought you did,' he told her solemnly. Rowan almost held her breath. She could feel her hands trembling and the pulse at her temple throbbing crazily as she instinctively lifted her face to him. There was none of the savagery he had shown before when he kissed her, but a warmth and gentleness that, for a dizzying moment, she responded to. Then some persistent reminder at the back of her mind brought her sharply back to reality and she drew away from him quickly, gazing up in blind panic before she turned and ran back across the bridge and over the soft, warm turf towards the road. 56