He pushed the toast rack towards Sara. âHelp yourself.â
âThanks.â
She took a slice of toast and spread it thinly with butter, but once again Matt noticed that she barely touched it. At this rate sheâd be just skin and bone in no time, he mused unwillingly. But it wasnât his concern. If sheâd lost her appetite, it was doubtless because she was terrified he was going to find out what a liar she was. But why was she lying? Why had she run away? What the hell was she playing at?
âYou donât have to leave today, do you, Sara?â Rosie asked now, nudging her fatherâs ankle with her foot. And, although he gave her a warning look, she went on bravely, âSara could stayââ she faltered ââstay until tomorrow, couldnât she?â
âI donât think so,â Sara began, and although Matt was tempted to let her leave and be done with it, he saw his daughterâs face and relented.
âYes, stay,â he said flatly, deciding that she deserved the chance to explain why sheâd been lying. And this way he could ensure that sheâd still be here when he got back from taking Rosie to school. âAt least until tomorrow.â
He could see her indecision. She was probably weighing the advantages of staying here, where she believed no one knew who she was, against moving on and risking inevitable exposure. He was also aware that his own feelings were just as ambivalent. Dammit, he didnât owe her a thing, he told himself savagely. Yet he couldnât deny he felt sorry for her.
And how sensible was that?
CHAPTER SIX
S ARA went back to her room after Matt had left to take Rosie to school. She wanted to avoid giving Mrs Webb the chance to ask any more questions. She was unpleasantly surprised to find that the bed sheâd slept in had already been made.
Which meant the housekeeper must have accomplished this task while they were downstairs having breakfast. She didnât for one minute think that Matt would have made her bed, and she wondered uneasily what the woman had thought of the fact that she didnât have any luggage.
For she had no doubt that Mrs Webb would have noticed. She might not have actually interfered with any of her belongings, but in the course of her work she was bound to have opened the bathroom door and seen that there was no toothbrush on the shelf.
Closing the door behind her, Sara leaned heavily back against the panels. Why had she agreed to stay on for another day? Why, when sheâd realised what a gossip Mrs Webb was, hadnât she made her excuses and left? Because her car was still not fixed, she reminded herself impatiently. Perhaps she should contact the rental agency, which was a countrywide operation after all, and ask them to supply her with a new car?
But, no. That would be foolish, she realised at once. At the moment all anyone knew was that sheâd left the apartment. Sheâd deliberately not taken her own car because registration plates were so easy to trace. In time they might get around to checking with the rental agencies, but by then she intended to have abandoned the car in favour of some other form of transport.
The trouble was, she needed money. She hadnât thought of that when sheâd left London, and although sheâd used her credit card to hire the car she hadnât considered using a cash machine until sheâd been forced to stop for petrol. Then sheâd realisedthat to do so would alert the authorities to her current whereabouts and sheâd used most of her cash for the fill-up.
Working for Matt Seton would have solved all her problems, she thought regretfully. But she should have known that any legitimate employer would want the kind of personal details that she couldnât supply. Not to mention references, she remembered wearily. And who could blame him for that?
She knew the most sensible thing would be to leave now, before she said or
âThanks.â
She took a slice of toast and spread it thinly with butter, but once again Matt noticed that she barely touched it. At this rate sheâd be just skin and bone in no time, he mused unwillingly. But it wasnât his concern. If sheâd lost her appetite, it was doubtless because she was terrified he was going to find out what a liar she was. But why was she lying? Why had she run away? What the hell was she playing at?
âYou donât have to leave today, do you, Sara?â Rosie asked now, nudging her fatherâs ankle with her foot. And, although he gave her a warning look, she went on bravely, âSara could stayââ she faltered ââstay until tomorrow, couldnât she?â
âI donât think so,â Sara began, and although Matt was tempted to let her leave and be done with it, he saw his daughterâs face and relented.
âYes, stay,â he said flatly, deciding that she deserved the chance to explain why sheâd been lying. And this way he could ensure that sheâd still be here when he got back from taking Rosie to school. âAt least until tomorrow.â
He could see her indecision. She was probably weighing the advantages of staying here, where she believed no one knew who she was, against moving on and risking inevitable exposure. He was also aware that his own feelings were just as ambivalent. Dammit, he didnât owe her a thing, he told himself savagely. Yet he couldnât deny he felt sorry for her.
And how sensible was that?
CHAPTER SIX
S ARA went back to her room after Matt had left to take Rosie to school. She wanted to avoid giving Mrs Webb the chance to ask any more questions. She was unpleasantly surprised to find that the bed sheâd slept in had already been made.
Which meant the housekeeper must have accomplished this task while they were downstairs having breakfast. She didnât for one minute think that Matt would have made her bed, and she wondered uneasily what the woman had thought of the fact that she didnât have any luggage.
For she had no doubt that Mrs Webb would have noticed. She might not have actually interfered with any of her belongings, but in the course of her work she was bound to have opened the bathroom door and seen that there was no toothbrush on the shelf.
Closing the door behind her, Sara leaned heavily back against the panels. Why had she agreed to stay on for another day? Why, when sheâd realised what a gossip Mrs Webb was, hadnât she made her excuses and left? Because her car was still not fixed, she reminded herself impatiently. Perhaps she should contact the rental agency, which was a countrywide operation after all, and ask them to supply her with a new car?
But, no. That would be foolish, she realised at once. At the moment all anyone knew was that sheâd left the apartment. Sheâd deliberately not taken her own car because registration plates were so easy to trace. In time they might get around to checking with the rental agencies, but by then she intended to have abandoned the car in favour of some other form of transport.
The trouble was, she needed money. She hadnât thought of that when sheâd left London, and although sheâd used her credit card to hire the car she hadnât considered using a cash machine until sheâd been forced to stop for petrol. Then sheâd realisedthat to do so would alert the authorities to her current whereabouts and sheâd used most of her cash for the fill-up.
Working for Matt Seton would have solved all her problems, she thought regretfully. But she should have known that any legitimate employer would want the kind of personal details that she couldnât supply. Not to mention references, she remembered wearily. And who could blame him for that?
She knew the most sensible thing would be to leave now, before she said or
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