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than she did at that moment. But she knew better now.
    She leaned back against the sofa cushions, trembling a little inside as she always did when she let herself think of the events of two years before. Not that she often thought of them—the mental censorship she exercised saw to that.
    She wouldn't have been thinking of him now—God knows she never wanted to think of him again—if it hadn't been for Julie's letter. ' Dane, of course, is going to give me away .'
    She would have to write to Julie, maybe not tomorrow, but some time soon, and make some excuse. Because there was no way she was ever going back to Stoniscliffe while Dane was there, and Dane was always there now. It was a grief to her. She missed Chas, and the big grey house on the edge of the Dales, but she had to keep away because she never wanted to see or speak to Dane Riderwood again.
    The ring at the doorbell made her start, because she wasn't expecting visitors, although there were any number of people who would know she was back from the West Indies by now and could be dropping in. She grimaced slightly at the thought of her appearance, no make-up and hair tied up in a turban, and was strongly tempted not to answer it, but the bell rang again imperatively, and there was little point in pretending she wasn't at home when the caller could see the light shining under the door.
    Pushing the litter of papers and envelopes off her lap, she called, 'All right, I'm coming!'
    She was smiling a little as she opened the door, because it was more than probably Simon who had shown signs of becoming besotted with her just before she had flown off on this last assignment, and she liked Simon even if she was a long way from falling in love herself.
    She began, 'You've caught me at a bad moment. I'm…'
    And then she stopped, the words dying on her lips as she saw exactly who it was, standing on her doorstep, waiting for admittance.
    'Hello, Lisa,' said Dane Riderwood.
    CHAPTER TWO

    For a moment she could neither speak nor move, and her breathing felt oddly constricted. It was like a nightmare— as if Dane was some demon that her thoughts had conjured up. All these months she had never allowed herself to think about him at all, she had closed him out, incised him from her brain.
    Now Julie's letter had reluctantly forced open the floodof her memory, and she had walked through the past like some forbidden city. 'Talk of the devil,' people used to say, 'and he's sure to appear.' And it was true because the devil was here with her now.
    She made a grab for the door intending to slam it in his face, but her momentary hesitation had been her undoing, because he had already forecast her intention and walked into the room.
    He said, 'Allow me.' And he closed the door himself, shutting them in together.
    Lisa said between her teeth, 'Get out of here!'
    'When I'm ready.' His voice was as cool as ever. He had hardly changed at all physically from the first time she had set eyes on him. The lines on his face had deepened with maturity, but his body still had the spare lithe grace of some predatory animal. He moved forward and she recoiled instinctively. He threw back his head and stared at her for a moment, his eyes hooded, their expression enigmatic.
    'Relax,' he advised caustically. 'The sooner you hear what I have to say, the sooner I can be gone, which is what we both want.'
    'What the hell are you doing here?' she almost whispered.
    'I'm not preparing to carry out the fell purposes you seem to have in mind,' he snapped back at her. 'For God's sake, Lisa, sit down and behave like a civilised human being.'
    'What would you know about civilised behaviour?' She was beginning to tremble inwardly and she folded her arms defensively across her body. 'Just say whatever you came to say and get out.'
    'Ever the gracious hostess.' Dane walked past her, looked with a lift of his eyebrow at the littered sofa, then sat down in the chair opposite. 'You're very nervous,' he commented.