soldiers who had deprived her of that. But he hadn’t changed—at least, not a lot. He was perhaps a little leaner than she remembered, and had his grey eyes always had that steel edge to them? His tanned features bore witness to the months he had spent in warmer climes, and his hair was thicker and fell in a heavy swathe across his forehead. Heavy-lidded eyes, narrow cheekbones, a mouth that right now looked thin and uncompromising. And tall—dwarfing even her five feet six inches. He was wearing tightfitting jeans and an open-necked denim shirt and he exuded an aura of strength and disturbing masculinity. And yet for all that, she sensed that he was suppressing anger. But why? Did he imagine she had picked up the two soldiers who were now exchanging glances and clearly wishing they had not offered their services?
Sophie made a helpless little movement of her shoulders. This was not how she had planned their reunion to be. She had waited over a year for this. She would not allow anyone to spoil it.
With a determination born of desperation she dropped her briefcase and ignoring everyone but Robert, she stepped close to him and threw her arms round his neck, pressing her lips to his mouth. Because of the unexpectedness of her action, Robert’s hands came up automatically to close around her forearms to prevent them from overbalancing, but within seconds their pressure had hardened and he was thrusting her roughly away from him.
‘Sophie!’ he muttered angrily, and the two soldiers set down her cases and with embarrassed smiles walked on. ‘Sophie, for God’s sake!’ He raked a hand through his hair and cast a swift look around them to assure himself that they were not under observation.
Sophie was unrepentant. In spite of his anger, just for a moment Robert’s mouth had responded to hers, and it was sufficient to convince her that he was not indifferent to her. So she smiled, a lovely, confident smile that widened her mouth and filled her green eyes with tawny lights. ‘What did you expect?’ she asked mockingly. ‘That we should shake hands?’
Robert looked down at her impatiently. ‘Is this all your luggage?’
Sophie glanced round. ‘Mmm.’ Then she looked up at him again. ‘Aren’t you glad to see me, Robert?’
He made an irritated gesture. ‘Of course I’m glad to see you, Sophie. I already said so.’ He picked up the two cases. ‘Can you manage the briefcase?’
Sophie sighed and obediently picked it up. ‘Yes, I can manage, thank you.’
Robert cast another unsmiling look in her direction and then strode away down the platform so that she had, perforce, to hurry to keep up with him. Once through the barrier, he led the way outside and halted beside a steel grey sports saloon parked in the yard. It was even more humid outside beneath the lowering clouds that were threatening rain, but to Sophie it was heaven to be back home again.
She spread her arms extravagantly and then concentrated her attention on the vehicle. ‘This is new, isn’t it?’ she commented admiringly. ‘What is it? An Aston Martin?’
‘No. A Jensen,’ stated Robert flatly, stowing her cases in the boot. ‘Get in. It’s not locked.’
Shrugging, Sophie opened the long door and climbed into the low passenger seat with its curved back and headrest. The instrument panel fascinated her and she was examining the various controls when Robert opened his door and levered his length in beside her. Immediately all else lost significance and she wondered what he would do if she attempted to kiss him again. It was a tantalising proposition and she turned sideways in her seat to look at him.
‘You’d better fasten the safety strap,’ he observed curtly, apparently unmoved by her scrutiny, and with an exclamation she swung round and did as she was told. She quelled the urge to make some insolent retort and looking at him out of the corners of her eyes, she said:
‘This is a super car, isn’t it? I wish I could drive.’
‘I expect your father will arrange for you to take lessons now that you’ve finished school,’ he remarked coolly, inserting the ignition key and starting the powerful engine. He opened his window and looked out, reversing expertly out of the parking space. ‘Congratulations, by the way. I hear you did well in your finals.’
Sophie pressed her lips together. ‘Thanks!’
The sarcasm in her tone must have got through to him, because he frowned and said: ‘Now what’s the matter? I wasn’t being patronising. I think you’ve got a good chance of making Oxford, don’t you?’
Sophie sniffed. ‘I don’t want to talk about school and examinations! I’ve just left all that behind!’ She moved restlessly and then turned to look at him appealingly. ‘How are you, Robert? How long have you been home? And how long are you staying this time?’
Robert concentrated on negotiating the busy late afternoon traffic, but when they reached a quieter thoroughfare, he replied: ‘I’m well. And actually, I’ve been in England a couple of months. I’m working in North Wales at the moment. We’re swinging a rail link out across the Sound to the Isle of Cymtraeth.’
‘You are?’ Sophie’s eyes were wide. ‘That’s marvellous! You must get home practically every weekend.’
Robert’s hands tightened on the wheel. ‘Not every weekend, Sophie,’ he amended dryly. ‘I do have other calls on my time.’
Sophie wriggled into a more comfortable position, watching him surreptitiously. He was so cool and aloof. She couldn’t get near to him, mentally at least, and her physical attempt hadn’t met with much success either.
‘How is everyone?’ she asked, determinedly trying to ignore his detachment. ‘Are Daddy and Mummy okay? And Simon?’ She forced a smile. ‘I had a letter from Simon only last week.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Why did you never write to me, Robert? I thought you would.’
Robert ignored her last question and said: ‘The parents are fine, and Simon seems quite content to remain at Conwynneth school for the rest of his life.’
‘Why not? He’s happy there,’ commented Sophie thoughtfully. ‘He’s not restless. Not like you!’
Robert swung past a lumbering wagon. ‘Is that what I am?’
‘Among other things,’ she retorted sourly. ‘Well, aren’t you? You weren’t content to stay in Hereford, were you? I’m sure Simmonds didn’t want to lose you.’
Robert shrugged. ‘I was offered a better job with more money and the chance to see something of the world before I was too old to enjoy it. I don’t see anything particularly restless in that. No doubt you’ll feel the same.’
‘I shan’t!’
‘How do you know?’
Sophie stared through the car windows. They were leaving the outskirts of the town behind, climbing into the hills. In spite of the darkening skies the countryside opening up before them was green and beautiful, splashed here and there with the dark clutches of forest which had provided cover for fugitives since the days of the Conqueror. The Welsh Marches! Sophie savoured the words. She might have been born in London, but this was her home, her heritage.
‘I’m not the—adventurous type,’ she answered him at last. ‘I’m basically a home-lover.’ She examined her fingernails. ‘Of course, if I were to get married, and—and my husband’s work took him overseas …’
There
