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The last time she had seen Mark was two years ago, and she was still not sure she wanted to see him socially. What would Matt say if he knew she had once hoped to marry the man who was engaged to his ward?
    But she was over him now, and it was foolish to let him affect her decision about accepting Matt's invitation. Matt. She looked at him quickly, as always affected by the sensual curve of his mouth and the determination of his chin. He was a man of strong will, and she shivered at the thought of having him weak in her arms. Yet before that happened, she would have to be the weaker, and if she were ...
    'Well,' he said, breaking into her thoughts, 'are you free or not? I'm going up tomorrow—about six.'
    'I'd like that.' She rose. 'Until tomorrow, then.'
    Taking the hint, Matt stood up too. 'Don't forget to bring a bikini—and your chastity belt!'
    Tidying up the sitting-room after he had gone, Caroline reflected over all she had learned about Matt.
    After the unhappy experience of his marriage it was not to be wondered at that he was cynical. Obviously he was wary of women, seeing them as schemers out to catch him and marry him—as she was!
    Caroline stopped dead in the centre of the room. It was the first time she had admitted how deeply she had become involved with Matt. I love that arrogant, self-centred bastard, and I'm pretty sure he loves me, she thought. But how can I get him to admit it? She frowned. To make Matt admit it might not be so difficult, but to get him to ask her to marry him was the problem.
    The following evening when he came to collect her, Helen and Mark were in the car. Helen managed a frosty smile, but Mark's greeting was warm and friendly.
    'It's nice to see you after all this time,' he said. 'You're looking prettier than ever. I seem to see your face on every magazine cover and hoarding.'
    'Not quite every one. I only wish it were.' Caroline took her place beside Matt, delighted that the sight of Mark left her totally unmoved. It was salutary to remember how deeply she had thought herself in love with him. With hindsight she knew she had been too young to know her own mind. With Matt it was different. In five weeks he had become part of her life, and she hoped he would never walk out of it.
    The three of them chatted amiably on the drive down to Berkshire, Helen remaining silent. She was obviously annoyed that Caroline was coming with them, and made no effort to hide her feelings.
    Matt's house was larger than Mark's had been, and infinitely nicer. Georgian in style and graciously proportioned, it stood in about four acres of gardens, the rest of the land being run as a farm. They walked under arched porticoes into the main hall where the floor was tiled in black and white marble squares, and a beautiful arrangement of summer flowers stood on the green marble top of a large gold ormolu table. The heady scent of the flowers filled the air, as Matt proudly showed her the main reception rooms that ran along the back of the house and overlooked the terrace and gardens. She noticed several valuable paintings, though he did not point them out. He might be naive in wanting to show off his lovely house, but he was too intelligent to make any comment on his art collection.
    But leading her up the galleried staircase, he pointed to some imposing portraits.
    'My ancestors!' he said solemnly.
    'All of them?' she asked equally solemnly.
    'Of course.' He grinned. 'I bought them with the house, though you'd be surprised at the number of folk who actually believe they're my relations!'
    'If you married me,' she pointed out sweetly, 'they might well be!'
    'That's too high a price to pay,' he chuckled, and Helen who was standing behind them pursed her lips and stalked past them up the stairs.
    Matt appeared not to notice his ward's behaviour, or if he did, he ignored it indulgently. But Caroline was very aware of her dislike, and this was in no way dispelled during the rest of the weekend.
    Her bedroom was as