‘Fine,’ said Jake, too heartily. The idea of Cassie moving in with him was like a shot of adrenalin. He knew quite well that she wouldn’t be sharing a bedroom with him, but still there was a moment when the blood roared in his ears and he felt quite lightheaded. ‘Good idea.’

He cleared his throat, wondering how to get off the subject of bedrooms. ‘How many people are you expecting tonight?’ he asked Cassie.

‘I’m not sure. Probably about a hundred and fifty or so,’ she guessed. ‘More or less the same as usual. Everyone I’ve spoken to in the village has said they’re coming.’

She didn’t add that she suspected that most of them were curious to see Jake again. ‘I’ve put notices up in the local pubs, the way Sir Ian used to do, so we may have some people from round about, too.’

Jake ran his finger around his collar. ‘I’m not sure how I feel about confronting so much of my past in one fell swoop,’ he admitted.

‘It’ll be fine.’ Cassie laid a hand on his arm, her brown eyes warm. ‘Everyone knows the truth about Sir Ian’s will. They’re prepared to accept you for how you are now.’

Jake didn’t believe that for a moment, but he was too proud to admit that he was dreading the evening ahead. ‘What time are they all coming?’

‘Seven o’clock.’ Cassie looked at the old clock still ticking steadily after all these years. ‘We’d better get changed.’

‘I hope you’re not wearing that black dress again,’ said Jake as they moved towards the stairs.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You made such a fuss about that, I thought I’d wear a red one this time.’

‘A red one?’ Jake paused with one foot on the first step. ‘Like the one you wore to the last Allantide Ball?’

Their eyes met, and the memory of how they had kissed that evening shimmered in the air so vividly that Cassie could almost reach out and touch it. A tinge of colour crept into her cheeks. ‘I hope this one is a little more classy.’

‘Shame,’ said Jake lightly. ‘Does that mean you’re not going to flirt with me again?’

‘I might do,’ said Cassie, equally lightly, but the moment the words were out she wanted to call them back. If she was going to flirt with Jake, was she going to kiss him too? The question seemed to reverberate in the sudden silence: did flirting mean kissing…kissing…kissing?

She swallowed and set off up the stairs. ‘Only if I have time-and nothing better to do, of course.’ She tried to joke her way out of it.

‘Of course,’ Jake agreed dryly.

‘Use this bathroom here,’ he said, leading her down a long, draughty corridor. He pointed at a door. ‘It’s the warmest, and the only one with halfway decent plumbing.’

Cassie tried to calm her galloping pulse as she showered and changed into the dress she had bought after Jake had so summarily rejected her foray into black elegance. This one was a lovely cherry-red, and the slinky fabric draped beautifully over her curves and fell to her ankles. It had a halter neck and a daringly low back. Her mother would have taken one look at it and told her that she would catch her death and should cover up with a cardigan, but Cassie wasn’t cold at all. The thought of Jake in the shower just down the hall was keeping her nicely heated, thank you.

She leant towards the mirror to put on her make-up, but her hand wasn’t quite steady; she kept remembering the look in Jake’s eyes when he’d asked if she was going to flirt with him the way she had ten years ago.

She was no good at this ‘just being friends’ thing, Cassie decided. A friend would have treated his question as a joke. Had she done that? No, she had given him a smouldering look under her lashes. I might do, she had said.

Cassie cringed at the memory. Good grief, why hadn’t she just offered herself on a plate while she was at it? She would have to try harder to be cool, she decided. But she couldn’t stop the treacherous excitement flickering along her veins and simmering under her skin as she slid the ruby ring onto her finger, took a deep breath and went to find Jake.

He was still in his room, but the door was open. Cassie knocked lightly. ‘Ready?’ she asked.

‘Nearly.’ Jake was fastening his cuffs, a black bow-tie hanging loose around his neck. Glancing up from his wrists, he did a double take as he saw her standing in the doorway, vibrant and glowing in the stunning red dress.

For a moment, he couldn’t say anything. ‘You look…incredible,’ he said, feeling like a stuttering schoolboy.

‘Thank you.’

Mouth dry, Jake turned away. ‘I’ll be with you in a second,’ he managed, marvelling at how normal he sounded. ‘I just have to do something about this damned tie.’ He stood in front of the mirror and lifted his chin, grimacing in frustration as he attempted to tie it with fingers that felt thick and unwieldy. ‘I hate these things,’ he scowled.

‘Here, let me do it.’ Cassie stopped hovering in the doorway to come and push his hands away from the mess he was making with the tie. ‘I deal with these all the time at weddings. Stand still.’

Jake stood rigidly, staring stolidly ahead. He was excruciatingly aware of her standing so close to him. He could smell her warm, clean skin, and the fresh scent of her shampoo drifted enticingly from her soft curls, as if beckoning him to bury his face in them.

In spite of himself, his gaze flickered down. Cassie’s expression was intent, a faint pucker between her brows as she concentrated on the tie with deft fingers. He could see her dark lashes, the sweet curve of her cheek, and he had to clench his fists to stop himself reaching for her.

‘OK, that’ll do.’ Cassie gave the tie a final pat and stood back. And made the fatal mistake of looking into his eyes.

The dark-blue depths seemed to suck her in, making the floor unsteady beneath her feet, and her mind reeled. Cassie could feel herself swaying back towards him, pulled as if by an invisible magnet, and her hands were actually lifting to reach for him when Jake stepped abruptly back.

‘Thank you,’ he said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. ‘That looks very professional.’

Cassie’s pulse was booming in her ears. She moistened her lips. ‘I should go down-see if the caterers need a hand.’

She practically ran down the stairs. Oh God, one more second there and she would have flung herself at him! It had taken all her concentration to fasten that tie when every instinct had been shrieking at her to rip it off him, to undo his buttons, to pull the shirt out of his trousers and press her lips to his bare chest. To run her hands feverishly over him, to reach for his belt, to drag him down onto the floor there and then. What if Jake had seen it in her eyes?

Well, what if he had? Cassie slowed as she reached the bottom of the staircase. It wasn’t as if either of them had any commitments. They were both single, both unattached. Why not act on the attraction that had jarred the air between them just now?

Because Jake had felt it too, Cassie was sure.

The prospect set a warm thrill quivering deep inside her. It grew steadily, spilling heat through her as she helped a tense Jake greet the first arrivals, until she felt as if she were burning with it.

Cassie was convinced everyone must be able to see the naked desire in her face, but if they could nobody commented. There was much oohing and aahing about the decorations instead, and undisguised curiosity about Jake and their apparent engagement, of course. But nobody seemed to think that there was anything odd about the feverish heat that must surely be radiating out of every pore.

She kept an anxious eye on Jake, knowing how much he had been dreading the evening. He might not think he could do social chit-chat, but it seemed to Cassie that he was managing fine. Only a muscle jumping in his cheek betrayed his tension. She had felt him taut beside her at the beginning, but as he relaxed gradually Cassie left him to it. Standing next to him was too tempting, and it wouldn’t do to jump him right in front of everyone.

Smiling and chatting easily, she moved around the Hall. Having grown up in Portrevick, she knew almost everyone there, and they all wanted to know about her parents, brothers and sister. Normally, Cassie would have been very conscious of how unimpressive her own achievements were compared to the rest of the family’s, but tonight she was too aware of Jake to care. She talked about how Liz juggled her family and her career, about Jack’s promotion, about the award Tom had won-but her attention was on Jake, who was looking guarded, but obviously making an effort for the village that had rejected him.

Cassie was talking to one of her mother’s old bridge friends when she became aware of a stir by the main door, and she looked over to see Rupert and Natasha stroll in, looking impossibly glamorous. Her first reaction was one of fury-that they should turn up, tonight of all nights, to make the ball even more difficult for Jake than it needed to be.

Jake had his back to the door and hadn’t seen them yet. Cassie excused herself and hurried over to intercept Rupert and Natasha. ‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ she said, although she was more surprised at how irritated she was by Rupert’s ostentatiously warm greeting.

‘I saw the ball advertised, and thought we would drop in for old times’ sake,’ said Rupert. ‘After all, Sir Ian was my uncle.’ He looked nostalgically around the great hall. ‘Besides, I wanted Natasha to see the house where I grew up.’

‘You only came for part of the summer holidays,’ Cassie pointed out, knowing that what Rupert really wanted to do was flaunt Natasha in front of Jake and remind him of his humiliation.

‘Now, why do I get the impression you’re not pleased to see me, Cassie?’ Rupert smiled and leant closer. ‘Or is it possible that you’re not pleased to see Natasha?’ he murmured in her ear.