knot of anxiety that was easing inside her, almost as though she were glad of his return. Even pleased, although pleased was perhaps going a bit far. She would admit to relief, but only for Mark’s sake.
They tidied up and went to bed. Evie lay in the dark and tried to focus her attention on Andrew, wondering just how broken-hearted it was suitable for her to be. After a while she gave up. How could you grieve for a man whose face you couldn’t remember?
In the early hours she awoke, hearing sounds from below. In a moment she was out of bed, pulling a light dressing gown on over her pyjamas and slipping quietly out on to the landing. The light was growing fast and she could see the man who had just arrived.
‘Justin?’ she called softly.
‘Yes, come down. I have something to tell you.’
‘Goodness, what’s happened?’ she asked, wondering at his businesslike tone.
She hurried down and saw him rummaging in his briefcase. He looked tired and unshaven.
‘Have you been driving all night? You look done in.’
‘Never mind that,’ he said, sounding almost impatient. ‘There’s something I want you to see.’
‘Is this the surprise you told Mark about? Shall I fetch him?’
‘Later. I want you to see it first.’
‘You’re getting me worried.’
‘No need. Here.’ He’d found a large envelope in his briefcase and held it out to her. ‘This is yours.’
‘What is it?’
‘Look at it,’ he said curtly.
At first the words were a jumble, dancing before her eyes. Then she recognised the address of the cottage.
‘It’s sold,’ she said at last. ‘You mean the Nicholsons moved that fast?’
‘Not them. Me. I bought this place yesterday.’
‘You what?’ Then her eyes fell on the price. ‘How much?’
The final price was fifty grand higher than the original asking price.
‘You didn’t really pay that?’ she gasped.
‘I had to. When the Nicholsons heard of my offer they raised theirs, which, I must admit I hadn’t expected, considering that they tried to get it cheap. But, once they’d decided, they were determined not to let go. There was a bidding war, but I won because I kept going longer.’
‘Yes, I can imagine that you did,’ she said, dazed. ‘But why—?’
‘Look at the other paper. It’ll tell you.’
The other paper was a deed of gift, making over the cottage to herself.
‘I don’t understand this,’ she murmured.
‘Surely it’s clear enough? The cottage is yours. I bought it and now it’s yours.’
She should have felt an uprush of gratitude, but there was only the old, uneasy feeling of a net closing about her. He hadn’t done this for her sake, but for reasons of his own.
‘But why are you giving it to me?’ she asked.
His manner became even more impatient.
‘What does it matter why? The point is, it’s yours. You won’t have to move out now. And since I paid over the odds you’ll have plenty left when the debts are cleared. It’s a very good deal for you.’
‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’ she said in a voice that was suddenly hard. ‘And you really did pay over the odds, I can see.’
‘Sometimes you have to, if it’s the only way to get what you want.’
‘I understand that,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s really impressive, the way you never let anyone get the better of you. Not anybody. Ever.’
Something in her manner finally got through to him. He turned, regarding her with a puzzled frown.
‘Evie, don’t you understand? The cottage is yours. Yours to keep. For ever. It’s what you wanted. Don’t you have anything to say to me?’
She raised smouldering eyes to him.
‘Yes,’ she said fiercely, ‘I do have something to say to you. I shall never forgive you for this as long as I live.’
Chapter Seven
JUSTIN stared at her. ‘Did I hear that properly?’
‘I think you did. What were you expecting? Gratitude? Well, maybe I’d be grateful if I didn’t know the real reason behind this.’
His voice was hard. ‘And you think the reason is what?’
‘Control. Acquisition. I’m useful to you, because of Mark, and when something’s useful you have to make sure it can’t escape, right? So you buy it.’
He went pale. ‘Is that what you think? That I’m trying to buy you?’
‘What else? The perfect takeover bid, mounted under perfect conditions—the important one being secrecy so that the object of acquisition doesn’t even know about it until it’s too late.’
‘Object of acquisition!’ For pity’s sake, listen to yourself! You’re talking nonsense.’
‘I don’t think so. You’ve done a perfect job, behind my back, only I wasn’t supposed to see the strings being pulled.’
‘I tried to give you something,’ he shouted. ‘Something I thought you wanted. You’ve told me how much you love this place.’
‘I was talking generally, not angling for a handout.’
‘Yesterday you were crying about it.’
‘Don’t remind me about yesterday,’ she said dangerously.
The way he’d kissed her as an assertion of power rankled with her still, and drove her to lash him cruelly. She would think about it later. For now she only knew that the moment she had seen him her heart had felt a disturbance that was mysteriously linked to anger.
‘The place is yours now,’ he snapped. ‘Do what you damned well like with it.’
‘I can’t. This isn’t right. It mustn’t happen.’
‘You can’t stop it. The sale’s gone through.’
‘I don’t see how you can have done it in one day. All that money takes time.’
His shrug was a complete answer. What was a huge amount to her was a pittance to him. He’d probably handed over cash.
‘I
