'Yes…' she answered uncertainly.

'Don't go away from me.'

'I…I'm not.'

'Good.' He turned her to face him and fixed the collar of her dress that was a little awry and added, 'Are you sure?'

'Yes, I'm sure,' she whispered.

'Then shall we go and witness these blasted birds before it gets too dark?' He took her chin in his fingers and kissed her lips very gently.

'Oh, yes, please.'

And so it was that she arrived at the restaurant unable to help feeling reassured about some things, but still with the weight of what she'd nearly said on her mind-to be confronted by Mary Hargreaves, who greeted Steve delightedly and confided that she was on her own; she just hadn't felt like cooking after a tough day at the office, and how she'd so wanted to talk to Davina at the cocktail party but hadn't somehow got around to it…

CHAPTER EIGHT

After the barest hesitation, Steve said, 'Well, you'd better join us, Mary.'

'Oh, no! I didn't mean that-'

But he said with a grin, 'Don't be silly. I'm sure Davina would like to meet you.'

'Of course,' Davina agreed with a smile, because there was really nothing else to do; the restaurant was small and she couldn't help feeling sorry for Mary Hargreaves, anyway, who had unwittingly given so much away the moment she'd laid eyes on Steve…

So they watched the mutton birds returning and Davina took some photos, then they sat down to eat. Davina discovered that Mary worked for the island board, that she was basically a bright, cheerful person, intelligent and cultured, probably in her late twenties, as well as being attractive and forthright. What she hoped in her heart was not so was that the four years Mary had spent away from the island had been spent changing herself into a more suitable person for Steve Warwick- perhaps not altogether consciously, but with it at the back of her mind. Because she couldn't help remembering what Steve himself had said about how Mary had changed.

She found that she was exerting herself so that it would be a pleasant meal, and saw Steve look at her strangely once, but pushed on regardless. Until Mary, who had rather carefully made no reference to Davina's position in the Warwick household, did say with a frown, 'You know, I'm sure I know your face, Davina.'

'That-' Davina stopped and bit her lip.

'That would be from when she was married to Darren Smith-Hastings,' Steve said, and as Mary's eyes widened with shock he went on, 'Would you like to come back to the cottage with us for a nightcap?'

'The…cottage?' Mary said uncertainly and Davina winced inwardly for her.

'Yes. We're eluding Lavinia and Loretta for a few days.'

'I-no, thanks, Steve, but I'll take a raincheck.' And, to her eternal credit Davina couldn't help thinking, Mary Hargreaves did battle with her emotions briefly-she swallowed visibly-and came up smiling. 'In fact, I think I'll leave you two alone right now! I've taken up enough of your time as it is. Thanks for a lovely evening-I'll get them to split the bill-'

'No, Mary.' Steve stood up as she did. 'This one's on me,' he said quietly.

'You're upset,' Steve said a while later when they were back in the cottage.

'I…' Davina stood in the middle of the lounge and twisted her hands. 'Yes.'

'Why?'

She closed her eyes. 'I can't help feeling sorry for her. I thought it was a little public and brutal to kill her dreams stone-dead like that.'

He came to stand in front of her and, as her lashes lifted, for a moment he was like the old Steve Warwick she'd first seen at the airport. Impatient, dangerous, big and worldly. He said evenly, 'My dear, I only wish I could have done something about Mary years ago. But how do you? I have never, I repeat, led her on.'

Davina sighed and shrugged. 'I don't know but…why did you tell her who I was, as well as making it so obvious we were… together? And I mean that from my point of view as well as hers.'

'Because we are together. Are we not?'

'Yes, but-'

'And because everyone will know it anyway and you can't change who you were.'

'But I've spent years-'

'I know, but while you're with me there's no need to hide.'

'How-' her throat closed but she made herself go on '-long will I be with you, though?'

He gazed down into her eyes. 'That's up to you, Davina. Do you want to-have it out now? I'm quite happy to. Do you want me to tell you that I'm falling in love with you? I am, so-'

'Steve,' she gasped.

He smiled a little grimly. 'What's so impossible about that?'

'I…well, how can you be sure?' she whispered.

'There are certain quite uncompromising signs. I can't help feeling you might have noticed them yourself, and in yourself,' he added with lethal gentleness and a pointed look down her figure.

'Steve, why are you angry?' she said barely audibly and with a tightening of her nerves.

'Am I? Could it be because I get the feeling you don't want to discuss this? You don't want it known we're sleeping together-'

'You're right,' she flashed suddenly, then frowned in exasperation. 'What I mean is I don't want it broadcast the way you did-'

'You mean, in other words, you'd rather pretend it's not happening?'

She took a breath. 'Of course not-I'd rather it was just between you and me,' she said flatly.

'Davina-it can't be, unfortunately. Not here.'

She bit her lip and looked up at him with shadowed, wary eyes.

'And what,' he said after about half a minute, 'is your reaction to the fact that I've fallen in love with you?'

She licked her lips. 'I have to tell you that this afternoon I nearly said the same thing to you, but-'

'So, what the hell are we arguing about?' he murmured and pulled her into his arms suddenly.

'Where it's going to lead, probably,' she whispered.

'If it's wedding-bells you want-'

'No!'

But he suddenly held her harder. 'Why not? OK, perhaps I could have phrased that more delicately, but what were you planning to do-come back and work out your month as both my housekeeper and my mistress? Stay here and hide yourself away until we proved it was only a passing attraction? Tell me, Davina?'

'You said…you said-' She stopped abruptly as a sense of fright and a new sense of anger took hold of her, as well as what she thought might be a grain of truth… Anger and fright because Steve in this masterful kind of mood made her feel vulnerable and made her remember her resolution never to allow another man to dominate her, even one who had brought her so much pleasure and delight. Truth, because it suddenly occurred to her that he had a dilemma on his hands. How were they going to go on? But what kind of a fool would she be to allow herself to be rushed into marriage like this when in her heart of hearts she still had some question marks?

'I know what I said.' All of a sudden his hands eased on her body. 'And I'm not reneging.' His lips twisted. 'Just rushing my fences. Why don't we remove this discussion to our bed? I feel I-say things with more fluency there.'

And she was helpless as he moved his hands on her through the thin material of her dress.

He insisted on undressing her himself this time. Nor did he say a word as he took her clothes off item by item, until she couldn't help smiling as she said, 'I thought this was supposed to be a discussion?'

He looked up with a wicked little light in his eyes but kept his hands cupping her breasts-there remained only one thing to dispense with, her panties. 'Perhaps that was a misnomer-a body poem might be a more appropriate term for this. Which I was hoping might speak for itself.' And, so saying, he laid her on the bed and drew the last wisp of lace and silk away, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her inner thighs, and other places where the lamplight turned her skin to gold and rose.

And she lay naked and quiet beneath his hands for a while, then raised her hands and curled her fingers in the rough, springy hair of his chest. 'I have to say I love your body poems,' she said, but that was the last coherent thing she said for quite a while as he bent his head and began to tease her nipples with his tongue.

And later, when she was lying drowsily and dreamily in his arms, she thought he might have been right. Some things between them did speak for themselves, and always had. So why was she holding back? Was it too soon? Well, it was only a bare fortnight but… Did she honestly believe he was the kind of man who would marry her simply to get over the awkwardness of things? No, but… Well, this dot in the South Pacific with its small, interwoven community, not to mention his grandmother and his stepmother, was probably about as awkward a place to choose to have an affair as you could find, but… How to know if this emotion was going to last them a lifetime, how to know… It popped into her mind with a suddenness that caused her to stir briefly, then hold herself deliberately still so he wouldn't notice. But she couldn't hold her thoughts still… Such as- how to know whether she hadn't happened along when Steve Warwick was thinking about who he was going to hand his empire down to, was being beleaguered by his grandmother to the point of driving him round the bend, was uncomfortably conscious of being the object of another woman's dreams-in other words, needed a wife.

'What?' he said into her hair.

'I-what do you mean?' she whispered.

'You feel as if you've gone away from me again.'

Oh, God, she thought, he's so…he knows me so well; why don't I just put an end to this and say yes? But she said instead, 'I was thinking that your female relatives are being uncharacteristically-reticent.'

She felt him laugh soundlessly. 'That's because I threatened them with total banishment from Lord Howe if they were any other way. You know, I don't know what's worse, Lavinia and Loretta at loggerheads or in cahoots.'