a QC, and successful, so I suppose he must be. More important from my point of view, he takes his responsibilities as godfather very seriously. He wasn’t happy when I insisted on bidding for this lot,’ said Sarah wryly. ‘He doesn’t like my flat, either.’
‘At the address you didn’t give me,’ he reminded her.
‘It’s no secret. I live in Medlar House.’
‘Really?’ Dan grinned. ‘I used to go to dances there when it was a girls’ school.’
Another one! ‘They were obviously popular, those dances.’
‘I went to an all-male school. You bet they were popular.’ His eyes gleamed reminiscently. ‘Socialising with the Medlar House girls was one of the great perks of getting to the upper sixth in my place of learning, believe me.’
‘Oh, I do,’ she assured him.
Dan glanced at his watch. ‘Damn. Time I hiked back. I promised to give Dad a hand. But I’m free later, so will you have dinner with me, Sarah? Please?’
She looked at him thoughtfully. The evening promised to be long, with the prospect of tomorrow morning’s transaction hanging over her. And Dan Mason, though a lot too confident of his own charms for her taste, was here on a temporary basis, not a permanent fixture.
‘I can see you weighing up the pros and cons, so just for the record I’m happily unmarried,’ Dan informed her.
‘Then, thank you. Dinner it is.’ Why not? It would be a good way of passing what would otherwise be an interminable evening.
‘Great,’ said Dan, his smile a shade too smug for Sarah’s taste. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Any preference for eating places?’
‘Not really—as long as it’s not Easthope Court.’
When Ian and Josie arrived with Nero, for their last evening as caretakers, Sarah thanked them warmly for their help.
‘We’ll miss coming here,’ said Josie wistfully.
‘If you need us somewhere else any time,’ added Ian, ‘you just have to say.’
‘I certainly will,’ Sarah promised him, and bent to give Nero a goodbye hug.
She felt quite wistful herself on the way back to the flat, but cheered up at the thought of going out. Not sure where Dan was likely to take her, she wore the tailored black linen trousers with their jacket over a cream silk camisole, and brushed her hair into a mass of loose curls. She was glad she’d taken the trouble when Dan came to collect her wearing a formal lightweight suit, topped by a look of deep approval which was highly gratifying.
‘You look wonderful,’ he told her.
‘Thank you. Where are we going?’
‘A London chef recently opened a country inn type restaurant a few miles from here. I thought you might like it.’
‘Sounds perfect—’ Sarah whistled as she spotted the banana-yellow Ferrari parked in the courtyard.
He patted the bonnet lovingly, then held the passenger door for her. ‘This baby is my reward for slaving long hours on a City trading floor. I won’t make you blush with my father’s comments. Boy’s toys and all that. And, as he says repeatedly, it’s not even necessary. I walk to the bank from my flat.’
Sarah laughed. ‘So when do you drive it?’
‘At weekends.’ He slanted a grin at her as he turned out into the road. ‘To some country hostelry—with a charming companion on board, of course.’
‘Of course. In the company I used to keep they were known as bird-pullers,’ she informed him.
‘Bird-pullers!’ he exclaimed, laughing. ‘Exactly what kind of company did you keep?’
‘The kind you get on building sites.’
As Dan had promised, the inn was picturesque. Baskets of flowers hung outside a rambling low building divided inside into several small dining rooms.
‘Choose anything you like from the menu. It’s all first class,’ Dan assured her.
He was right. But Sarah enjoyed the perfectly cooked sea bass rather more than Dan’s company while she ate. Because his conversation centred on his success in his job, and the bonuses which had enabled him to buy his expensive car and his equally expensive flat, she found her attention wandering, and surfaced guiltily to hear him describing a recent holiday in St Tropez. Her brief encounters with Alex Merrick had been stormy, she thought suddenly, but a lot more interesting. Though after tomorrow there would be no more encounters. She was unlikely to see Alex again once the sale had gone through.
‘That’s a very thoughtful expression in those big dark eyes, Sarah Carver,’ remarked Dan.
‘It seems odd to think that my first venture into property development is over,’ she said, smiling brightly.
‘Is a second on the cards?’
‘Of course. Once the sale of this one goes through.’
‘Something local?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ Dan gave her his irritatingly cocky smile. ‘With you around I’ll be visiting the old folks more often in future.’
Sarah got up to leave. ‘Around doesn’t mean available.’
‘I put that badly,’ said Dan penitently, on their way to the car. ‘Have I shot myself in the foot?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Then let’s do this again. I’m here until the weekend. What day would suit you?’
‘Sorry. I’ll be too busy getting to grips with the new project.’
When they reached Medlar House Dan turned off the engine and undid his seat belt. ‘I’d love a look at your flat.’
She shook her head. ‘I have to be up early in the morning, so I’ll just say thank you for the meal and wish you goodnight, Dan.’
He bent his head to kiss her, but Sarah put a hand on his shoulder and held him off, then released the seat belt and got out of the car. ‘Thank you for dinner,’ she repeated, as he followed her to the door. ‘And for a pleasant evening.’
‘Pleasant!’ he repeated, an ugly set to his mouth. ‘You really know how to cut a guy down to size.’
She smiled as she put her key in the door. ‘Something you’re not used to, I imagine?’
‘No. Women like me as a rule.’ He eyed her, baffled. ‘I just wanted a kiss, for God’s sake.’
‘But I didn’t,’ said Sarah gently. ‘Goodnight.’
Odd, she thought later, as she got ready for bed. Dan Mason was good-looking,
