what you can do.'
'You want me to drive?' Phoebe gasped.
'You told me you had a licence. I need to check your general competency if you're going to be driving my daughter.'
'Yes—yes, I see.' She slid behind the wheel, waiting nervously while he took his place beside her. 'It's been a while...'
'Then take your time.'
To her relief, the engine responded immediately, and she moved smoothly away.
'Where exactly are we going?' she asked as she threaded her way through the lanes. She was glad she had to concentrate so hard on what she was doing. It helped divert her attention from Dominic's physical proximity to her in the confined space of the car.
'To Westcombe Park School first, and then into Westcombe itself, where Tara has her piano lesson. Her teacher lives in Derwent Street.'
'Of course.' Phoebe nodded. 'That's just a few doors away from the tea rooms.'
'And probably why Cindy thought she could risk leaving Tara to fend for herself,' he returned flatly.
'Yes—but there was no real harm done.'
He said drily, 'I wish I could agree.'
There was a brief silence, then he continued. 'May I say, by the way, how much I approve of the transformation?'
Phoebe felt her face warm slightly. She said stiltedly, 'I—I have to talk to you about that.'
'That has an ominous sound,' he said lightly. 'Don't you like Carrie's choice for you?'
'That's not the point. I—I don't want anyone else buying my clothes.'
'But your own stuff went up in flames,' Dominic pointed out reasonably. 'And I really couldn't allow you to spend the rest of your life in my robe, however beguiling you looked,' he added silkily.
A remark Phoebe considered it safer to ignore. 'All the same,' she said stubbornly, 'I wish you hadn't done it. It will take me ages to repay you.'
'Consider it part of the job,' he said dismissively. 'Uniform supplied.'
'This is nothing like a uniform, and you know it.' Phoebe swallowed. 'Please let me have the receipts, and I'll pay for the things as and when I can.'
'Please don't sound as if you'll be going round with a begging bowl,' he said caustically. 'I saw the fire officer today, and he confirmed that the cause of the fire was the faulty wiring, so you probably have a claim against your landlord.'
'I doubt if he'll see it that way.'
'He may not have a choice.' Dominic paused. 'And there is, of course, the question of your salary. We haven't really discussed that yet.'
He mentioned a sum that nearly caused her to stall the car.
'But you can't possibly pay me that much,' she protested. 'I'm not even qualified.'
He said slowly, 'It's what I was paying Cindy. And you have a warm heart and a sense of responsibility— both attributes that she signally lacked. I think you're worth it. That's on top of your board and lodging, of course,' he added, almost as an afterthought.
'Oh, this is ridiculous,' she said heatedly.
'I quite agree. We're going to end up in the ditch.'
'Oh, hell.' Phoebe hurriedly righted her steering. 'You know what I mean.'
'Yes, I do,' he said slowly. 'And I'm wondering why you have such a low sense of self-esteem.'
She bit her lip until she tasted blood. 'I—wasn't aware I had.'
'Another fib,' he said gently. 'You don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I can wait.'
You'll wait a long time, she thought wildly. What would you say, I wonder, if I told you that it was all because of you—and only you? Maybe, on the day I leave for ever...
Westcombe Park School was a big square building in red brick. Lights blazed from the windows, and the road outside was busy with Land Rovers and Jeeps while the drivers—mostly women in Barbours and Puffa jackets— called greetings to each other.
Phoebe parked the car neatly and got out, feeling very much an outsider, although she spotted a few girls of her own age who were probably nannies too.
In the distance a bell pealed shrilly, and the children began to emerge from the school building in laughing, chattering groups.
Tara was one of
'You want me to drive?' Phoebe gasped.
'You told me you had a licence. I need to check your general competency if you're going to be driving my daughter.'
'Yes—yes, I see.' She slid behind the wheel, waiting nervously while he took his place beside her. 'It's been a while...'
'Then take your time.'
To her relief, the engine responded immediately, and she moved smoothly away.
'Where exactly are we going?' she asked as she threaded her way through the lanes. She was glad she had to concentrate so hard on what she was doing. It helped divert her attention from Dominic's physical proximity to her in the confined space of the car.
'To Westcombe Park School first, and then into Westcombe itself, where Tara has her piano lesson. Her teacher lives in Derwent Street.'
'Of course.' Phoebe nodded. 'That's just a few doors away from the tea rooms.'
'And probably why Cindy thought she could risk leaving Tara to fend for herself,' he returned flatly.
'Yes—but there was no real harm done.'
He said drily, 'I wish I could agree.'
There was a brief silence, then he continued. 'May I say, by the way, how much I approve of the transformation?'
Phoebe felt her face warm slightly. She said stiltedly, 'I—I have to talk to you about that.'
'That has an ominous sound,' he said lightly. 'Don't you like Carrie's choice for you?'
'That's not the point. I—I don't want anyone else buying my clothes.'
'But your own stuff went up in flames,' Dominic pointed out reasonably. 'And I really couldn't allow you to spend the rest of your life in my robe, however beguiling you looked,' he added silkily.
A remark Phoebe considered it safer to ignore. 'All the same,' she said stubbornly, 'I wish you hadn't done it. It will take me ages to repay you.'
'Consider it part of the job,' he said dismissively. 'Uniform supplied.'
'This is nothing like a uniform, and you know it.' Phoebe swallowed. 'Please let me have the receipts, and I'll pay for the things as and when I can.'
'Please don't sound as if you'll be going round with a begging bowl,' he said caustically. 'I saw the fire officer today, and he confirmed that the cause of the fire was the faulty wiring, so you probably have a claim against your landlord.'
'I doubt if he'll see it that way.'
'He may not have a choice.' Dominic paused. 'And there is, of course, the question of your salary. We haven't really discussed that yet.'
He mentioned a sum that nearly caused her to stall the car.
'But you can't possibly pay me that much,' she protested. 'I'm not even qualified.'
He said slowly, 'It's what I was paying Cindy. And you have a warm heart and a sense of responsibility— both attributes that she signally lacked. I think you're worth it. That's on top of your board and lodging, of course,' he added, almost as an afterthought.
'Oh, this is ridiculous,' she said heatedly.
'I quite agree. We're going to end up in the ditch.'
'Oh, hell.' Phoebe hurriedly righted her steering. 'You know what I mean.'
'Yes, I do,' he said slowly. 'And I'm wondering why you have such a low sense of self-esteem.'
She bit her lip until she tasted blood. 'I—wasn't aware I had.'
'Another fib,' he said gently. 'You don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. But I can wait.'
You'll wait a long time, she thought wildly. What would you say, I wonder, if I told you that it was all because of you—and only you? Maybe, on the day I leave for ever...
Westcombe Park School was a big square building in red brick. Lights blazed from the windows, and the road outside was busy with Land Rovers and Jeeps while the drivers—mostly women in Barbours and Puffa jackets— called greetings to each other.
Phoebe parked the car neatly and got out, feeling very much an outsider, although she spotted a few girls of her own age who were probably nannies too.
In the distance a bell pealed shrilly, and the children began to emerge from the school building in laughing, chattering groups.
Tara was one of
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