A Question Of Marriage

He lifted his eyes to hers and they were amused, but with a glint of irony as a tinge of pink coloured her cheeks at the same time. ‘Why don’t you sit down and have a glass of wine instead?’ he suggested. ‘It might be just what you need after a sleepless night.’ He raised his glass to her.

‘How did you know—?’ She bit her lip.

‘You look a little peaked,’ he drawled, and got to his feet at last to pull out a chair for her. In blue jeans and a grey T-shirt, he looked casual but big and very fit.

Aurora hesitated, then sank down into it. She also took the glass of wine he poured for her, although absently. ‘How did you know,’ she began again, ‘that I’d dropped them out of the window? I assume that is what happened?’

‘You assume correctly.’ He sat down. ‘I just thought,’ he mused, ‘that I should take some precautions. It was, after all, only your word I had to go on last night. So I stopped and asked myself what I would have done with anything I had come by—shall we say illegally?’

‘There was nothing illegal about it at all! At least by now you must know that.’

‘I certainly do.’ His gaze was so amused as it rested on her, she flinched visibly. ‘But at the time, with Neil having done a bunk—’

‘I told you why!’ she interrupted fiercely.

‘Yes,’ he murmured gently. ‘Once again I must point out I had no way of knowing if you were telling me the truth.’

Aurora suddenly took a large swallow of wine as some intuition told her that she was in for a battle of wits on a scale she’d never encountered before. ‘Now we’ve sorted it out, though—OK, I concede it was all my fault and offer my sincere apologies—could I have my diaries back, please?’