himself irritably. He certainly didn’t know why he’d invited her to stay.
‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Rosie was saying delightedly, casting a triumphant glance up at her father. ‘Daddy says you’re going to stay with us. I hope you do.’
‘Oh—well, it’s just for one night,’ Sara murmured a little awkwardly. ‘It’s very kind of your father to invite me.’
She didn’t know the half of it, thought Matt, raking long fingers through his hair, but before he could respond Rosie jumped in again. ‘But you do like it here, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘Are you on holiday? Or are you looking for a job?’
Now Matt saw it was Sara’s turn to look disconcerted. ‘I— I haven’t decided,’ she said at last, a faint flush tingeing the skin of her throat. The unsuitable voile dress exposed a fair amount of her neck and throat, he noticed, and, as if conscious of this, she crossed her arms at her midriff, one hand seeking to protect herself from his eyes. ‘This is a very—beautiful place.’ She glanced towards the windows, the tip of her tongue touching her parted lips. ‘I think you’re very lucky to live here.’
Matt found to his annoyance that his eyes were following her tongue’s sensual exploration. And he felt impatient with himself for being so immature. For God’s sake, he was a grown man, not a schoolboy. What was there about this woman that affected him so?
‘That’s what Daddy always says,’ exclaimed Rosie now, rather wistfully, and Matt wondered if he was depriving his daughter of a social life. Seadrift was remote. There was no getting away from it. But he resented the thought that a stranger should bring it to mind.
‘I’m sure he’s right,’ Sara murmured, no doubt for her own reasons, he thought savagely. He didn’t need her endorsement. In fact, he needed nothing from her, he thought irritably. She bent to pat the two retrievers, exposing the dusky hollow of her cleavage. ‘You probably couldn’t keep these two rascals if you lived in a town.’
‘Do you live in a town?’ asked Rosie. Then, without pausing, ‘Would you like to live at the coast?’
Matt stiffened. ‘Rosie!’ he said warningly, half afraid he knew what was coming. But he couldn’t stop her. It was too late.
‘’Cos Daddy’s looking for someone to come and look after me,’ she explained eagerly. ‘You wouldn’t have to do much. Just take me to school and stuff. You wouldn’t really be a nanny,’ she ran on, ‘’cos I’m too old for that. But you could live here—couldn’t she, Daddy? And then I wouldn’t be always getting in your way when you’re working, like you said.’
SARA didn’t want to feel any sympathy for Matt Seton, but she couldn’t help it. She saw the look of anguish that crossed his lean tanned features at the child’s careless words. He obviously cared deeply about his daughter, and it hurt him to hear her describe the way she thought he thought about her. She sensed he was fostering all the remorse of a single father who was obliged to employ strangers to care for his child while he earned them both a living.
But she also glimpsed a thread of anger in the gaze he directed towards her, and she wondered if he thought she had engineered Rosie’s innocent invitation.
‘I—’ She strove to find an explanation for not accepting the position that wouldn’t offend the little girl. ‘It’s very kind of you, Rosie—’
‘But Miss Victor is heading off tomorrow,’ put in the child’s father harshly, before Sara could finish, and, despite the fact that she’d been about to say something similar, Sara felt her hackles rise at his callous dismissal. ‘Besides,’ he went on, rather maliciously, she thought, ‘I’m sure our visitor would find our way of life very dull.’
Rosie looked crestfallen now. ‘Would you?’ she asked, her dark eyes, so like her father’s, gazing up at Sara in mute appeal. Sara thought it would have taken a harder heart than hers to resist her, but once again Matt Seton saved her the trouble.
‘Of course she would,’ he essayed flatly. ‘Now—shall we get these animals out of here before they shed any more hair?’
Rosie’s lip jutted. ‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so,’ declared her father inflexibly, ushering the two retrievers into the hall. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Miss Victor?’
It was a perfunctory enquiry at best, and Sara expelled a breath before lifting her shoulders in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Is there anything I can do?’ she asked, deciding there was no point in pretending that she could go against his wishes, however enthusiastic Rosie might be.
Matt Seton paused in the doorway. ‘You’re a guest,’ he said simply. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and see what my housekeeper has left for our evening meal.’
Sara took a couple of steps after him. ‘It’s early yet,’ she protested. Then, with inspiration, ‘Don’t these dogs need exercising or something? I—Rosie and I could take them for a walk.’
‘I don’t think so.’
His cold denial came only seconds before Rosie’s, ‘Oh, why not, Daddy? We often take the dogs out after I get home from school.’
‘We do,’ he said, emphasising the personal pronoun. ‘Besides—’ he gave Sara another impatient look ‘—Miss Victor doesn’t have any suitable footwear.’
‘I don’t need shoes on the beach,’ she exclaimed, the idea growing on her. She found the prospect of running along the shoreline, paddling in the cool waters of this northerly sea, more and more appealing. She couldn’t run away from her troubles. She knew that. But perhaps this was a way to escape from them for a while. ‘We wouldn’t go far. I promise.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He was adamant, and her spirits plummeted. But how could she blame him really? She hadn’t exactly behaved responsibly this far.
‘You could come with us, Daddy.’
Clearly Rosie wasn’t prepared to accept his refusal without an attempt to change his mind, and Sara sensed he was torn by the knowledge that he was on the point of disappointing her once again.
‘Rosie,’ he began, a little wearily, but she evidently sensed he was weakening.
‘Please, Daddy,’ she begged, clutching his hand. ‘You need the exercise, too. You’re always saying so. Come on. It’ll be fun.’
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