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  'Why no, I…' Casey paused, then said, 'No, it was a date. Someone took me.'

  Her mother's ears pricked up. 'Oh? A local boy?'

  'Yes, he's quite local,' Casey admitted, but chuckled inwardly; anyone less like a boy than Reid would be hard to find.

  'What's he like?' Mrs Everett demanded. 'What does he do? Are you serious about him?'

  'Oh, Mum! I've only been going out with him for about six weeks. He—er—helped me when my car broke down, and I've been out with him a few times since.'

  'You should have brought him up with you.'

  'I couldn't; he's abroad on business and won't be back for a while.'

  'Goes abroad a lot, does he?' her father put in.

  'Quite a bit. As a matter of fact he has his own business; he builds boats. And he has to go abroad to get orders for them,' she admitted, not without a slight note of pride. Adding, 'Oh, and he does some power-boat racing as well.'

  'Really?' Mark looked at her with interest. 'I've started to take part in that myself. I go over to Yarmouth to the Power-Boat Club and take part in two-man or three-man races whenever I can. It's really great. But expensive, though. What's your boyfriend's name?'

  'It's Lomax. Reid Lomax. He told me he takes part in something called Formula One.'

  Mark had just taken a mouthful of food when she spoke and he choked as he swallowed in surprise and it went down the wrong way. 'Something called Formula One!' he spluttered as soon as he could speak. 'My God, Casey, don't you even know who Reid Lomax is?'

  'What do you mean? Have you heard of him, then?'

  'Heard of him? Everyone who's had anything at all to do with power-boats has heard of him. Look, simpleton, Formula One power-boat racing is like Formula One Grand Prix racing. The drivers mostly drive team- sponsored boats and they travel all over the world on the Grand Prix circuit. The racing that I do is a world away from what Reid Lomax does. It's like—it's like comparing a local car rally to a World Championship Grand Prix race. Now do you understand?'

  Casey stared at him. 'Yes, I suppose so. And is Reid good?'

  'Good?' Mark looked at her pityingly. 'My dear girl, your boyfriend just happens to have been the world champion twice before and is in the lead for this year's World Championship, that's all. And he probably would have been the champion last year if he hadn't had a bad accident that kept him out of a couple of races.' He stared at her as a thought occurred to him. 'But one of the things that's best known about Lomax is that he designs and builds his own boats. He doesn't even have a sponsor. Everyone says that he's absolutely loaded.'

  Casey gulped, overwhelmed by what she had heard. 'You—you mean he's rich?' she asked unbelievingly.

  'He must be if he can afford to run his own boats. Of course, every time he wins a race it means marvellous publicity for his company,' Mark told her, pleased to be able to air his knowledge.

  'And do you think that's why he does it—to publicise the boats?' Casey asked, still trying to sort out the impressions the news had made on her mind.

  'Of course not. I told you, Casey, he's really good. Drivers who are that good have to be entirely dedicated and professional. Besides, if he'd only been in it for the publicity he would never have gone back to driving after that crash he had last year.'

  'Seems you've found yourself quite a celebrity,' her father remarked, his eyes on her slightly troubled face. 'Perhaps you'd better find out more about him.'

  Casey gave a light laugh. 'As I told you, I've only known him a short while. He's abroad again at the moment and he might not even ask me to go out with him again when he gets back.' Quickly she changed the subject, asking about some of her old school friends, but when she at last escaped to her room that night after what had seemed like a never-ending evening, her thoughts were full of all that she had heard. So Reid was rich, was he? This wasn't really anything new now she came to think about it; he had always seemed to take money for granted and had been more than generous whenever he had taken her out. But there was a difference between having enough money and being rich. Wealth was something that was outside Casey's experience; her father was an accountant and although they had never really wanted for anything, it had been taken for granted that she and Mark had to take holiday jobs and work their way through college. And she had had to save up the money to rent her cottage and pay for the knitting-machines to start up her business, although her parents had helped her all they could.

  Putting the idea of Reid being wealthy out of her mind, Casey's thoughts turned to his racing, and the accident that her brother had told her about. Was that, she wondered, where Reid had hurt his eye? She presumed that the accident had happened during a race, although Mark hadn't definitely said so. Was it dangerous, then? Grand Prix motor racing certainly was; you were always hearing about crashes and drivers being injured. Casey turned uneasily, wondering just how badly Reid had been hurt. Not badly enough to put him off, obviously. But it was also evident that her conception of him racing round and round the local lake merely to advertise his boats had been entirely wrong. Casey lay gazing into the darkness, remembering the scenes she had seen on television and at the cinema of beautiful girls standing in the pits clocking up the times of their racing-driver husbands or boyfriends. Did power-boat drivers' girls do that? she wondered, picturing herself in the role and rather liking it The after-race parties would probably be fun, too. And it all sounded glamorous and exciting. Her mind dwelt on this for a while, her mouth curved into a smile as she imagined herself with Reid, but then her eyes shadowed again as she remembered his accident. First thing tomorrow, Casey decided, she must get Mark on his own and make him tell her as much as he knew about it.

  But her brother went out early the next morning, so it wasn't until after lunch that she managed to think up an excuse and the two of them were able to leave the house to walk to a garden centre about a mile away, ostensibly to buy some plants for their mother.

  'OK,' Mark said resignedly. 'You must want something. You don't usually want my company when you go for a walk. But make it quick; I've got a video film I want to watch this afternoon.'

  'Oh, honestly, how do you expect to get anywhere when you spend all your time watching the television?' Casey admonished him.

  'Don't you start; I have enough with Mum. I suppose you want to ask me about your friend Reid Lomax.'

  'Yes.' Casey stopped and turned to look at him. 'About his accident.'

  Mark looked surprised. 'I would have thought you'd be more interested in his business and his racing history.'

  'I am. But first I'd like to know how his accident happened. It was in a race, I take it?'

  'Well, no, I don't think it was actually. I seem to remember it was during a practice session. His boat took off and rolled over or something.'

  'What do you mean—took off?'

  'Well, the boats are so light and the engines that they use so powerful, that sometimes the boats just start to take off, like an aeroplane.' He gestured with his hand. 'But, not having any wings, they just roll over and the driver gets thrown out.'

  'But how can he get hurt if he just goes into the water?' Casey objected.

  'Didn't they teach you anything at school?' Mark demanded in brotherly long-suffering. 'The boats are going so fast that when the driver hits the water it's like hitting a block of cement. They literally bounce against the surface until they slow down enough to go in. I haven't seen it happen myself, but I've seen it on television and it's quite spectacular.'

  'Bloodthirsty little devil! And you say this happened to Reid? Do you know how badly he was hurt?'

  'Not offhand. But I'm pretty sure I read an article about it in one of my copies of Power-Boating magazine. I take it every month and share it with some of the others in the Club.'

  Casey began to walk on again, but after a moment said, 'I'd like to read it when we get back home.'

  'Sorry.' Mark shook his head. 'I'll have passed it on to someone else. But I can find it and send it to you, if you lik
e?' When Casey nodded, he went on, 'Actually I could probably bring it down to you. And perhaps in return you could introduce me to your boyfriend. Perhaps he might give me a few tips on boat-handling. He might even let me have a go in one of his boats,' he added optimistically.

  'Don't you dare!' Casey exclaimed. 'I don't want you interfering before I've even…' She stopped precipitately.

  'Before what?' Mark demanded, enjoying teasing her. 'Before you've got him really hooked?'

  For a moment Casey's eyes were troubled. 'No, not so much that. Before I've made up my own mind about him.'

  But if Casey had had any doubts about him they were almost instantly dispelled when Reid appeared unexpectedly on her doorstep early in the evening a couple of weeks later, his arms so full of flowers and parcels that he couldn't get hold of her to kiss her.

  'Reid!' Casey exclaimed in delighted surprise. 'When did you get back? I thought you weren't due until Saturday.'

  'I managed to get back a day early. Here, help me put these on the table,' he instructed as he followed her into the sitting-room. His arms empty, he turned to her impatiently. 'For God's sake, come here, woman. If I have to wait another minute to kiss you I shall go mad.' Pulling her into his arms, he looked down at her face for a minute before bending his head to kiss her, a kiss that more than proved that he had missed her while he had been away. Not until they were both breathless did they break apart, but Reid still held her in his arms, his face nuzzling her neck, so close that she could hear his heart beating. 'Missed me?' he murmured.

  Casey lifted her head to look at him, her emotions mirrored in her eyes. 'Yes,' she admitted sincerely. 'I did miss you.'

  Putting his hands on either side of her head, Reid kissed her again, long and lingeringly, then grinned and said, 'Look at what I've brought you back.'

  And in the next few minutes Casey began to find out what it was like to have a rich man for a boyfriend. Not only had he brought her flowers, but also some French perfume, a beautiful silver bracelet, some embroidered handkerchiefs, and a big box of chocolates.

  'Reid!' Casey sat on the floor and looked at all the things spread around her. 'It's like Christmas!'

  'Wrong season. With summer in mind I also bought you this.' With a rather devilish grin, he handed her yet another parcel.

  Casey gave him a wary look, beginning to recognise that gleam in his eye. Opening the parcel, she found a beautifully worked, but very brief, crocheted bikini. 'Wow!' She held the pieces up. 'There isn't exactly a lot of it is there?' She gave him an impish look. 'And do you really think that our English summer is going to be hot enough for me to wear it?'

  Smiling in return, Reid answered, 'Who knows, maybe you'll go on holiday somewhere much warmer.'

  As Casey hadn't mentioned a holiday and certainly couldn't afford to go abroad, that could be taken as a loaded remark, but she wisely didn't pursue it, instead saying, 'Tell me all about your trip. Did you take part in another race? And did you win?'

  'Yes, I took part in another race, and yes, luckily, I won. Which is good for business.'

  'Is that why you do it?' Casey asked curiously, but trying to keep her voice light. 'Just to sell boats?'

  'No, I enjoy it too. It's a sport that's been bred into me almost. My father used to race too, and he started me off when I was quite young. But how about you? What have you been doing while I've been away? Lots more orders coming in?'

  'Yes, I've been really busy.' Happily she told him all about it.

  'Good. Well done. And I'm glad you've been kept busy. I wouldn't like to think that you had time enough to go out with other men. Did you?'

  His voice had grown serious and to Casey's surprise and gratification she recognised a note of jealousy in his question. Getting to her feet, she went across to him and let him pull her on to his lap. 'No, I didn't go out with anyone else. Although…'

  Reid's hand tightened on hers. 'Yes?'

  'Although I did go home to see my family.'

  'Tease,' he told her with a grin. 'Where would you like to go tonight?'

  She put a hand up to touch his face. 'Somewhere quiet,' she said softly. 'Somewhere where we can talk and no one will notice us. Where we can eat by the light of candles and take our time over our meal. Where we can dance if we want to or just sit and relax and talk.'

  'Mmm, sounds heaven,' Reid agreed. 'But where is there around here where we can do all those things?'

  Casey smiled up at him. 'Can't you guess? Why, here, of course!'

  'Here?' Reid looked into her face, a warm flame deep in his eyes. 'Are you sure you wouldn't rather go out?'

  'No. That's if you…'

  Putting a finger over her lips, Reid said, 'I would much rather stay here. Thank you.' And he replaced his finger with his lips. 'I thought of you a lot while I was away.'

  'Did you? What about me?'

  'That I wished we were together. That I would like to have taken you with me and shown you Stockholm.' As he spoke they exchanged small kisses and Reid's arms tightened round her. 'Oh, Casey, Casey. It's good to be back and hold you in my arms again.' He smiled at her. 'I think you've bewitched me. Usually I enjoy going away to race, but this time I just longed to be back home.'

  They kissed again until Casey rather breathlessly pushed him away. 'Hey! If I'm going to cook dinner for us…'

  Reid held up his hands. 'I know, I know. Want some help?'

  'Can you cook?'�

  'No, but I'm very good at stirring things.'

  Laughing, Casey got to her feet and looked down at him, but then her face grew intent as she said softly, 'I'm very glad you're back, too.' And gave him an impulsive hug before hurrying into the kitchen.

  Reid's idea of helping was mostly to stand around drinking sherry and talk while he watched her, but when everything was simmering nicely he went out to get a bottle of wine, giving Casey the opportunity to change into a long black skirt and white silk shirt with a tucked bodice, to pin up her hair and put on some make-up.

  Reid whistled appreciatively when he came back and saw her. 'You look stunning.'

  He went to kiss her, but she pushed him away. 'No, I must see to the meal.'

  'Tyrant,' Reid complained. 'Am I always going to have this trouble with you?'

  Casey's heart skipped a beat, but she answered with mock severity, 'Certainly. I never allow that kind of thing in the kitchen.'

  'What kind of thing?'

  'You know very well what I mean.'

  'This, presumably.' And coming up behind her, Reid began to kiss the back of her neck. 'I like your hair up like that. It reveals bits of you I haven't seen before. And very kissable they are too.'

  Squirming deliciously, Casey pulled away, then picked up a spoon and rapped him on the knuckles with it. 'Go and wait in the dining-room or this meal will never get finished,' she ordered sternly.

  Reid's good eye laughed down at her, and it occurred to Casey that he looked very happy, but then she felt very happy too. He went away, enabling her to finish cooking the meal, and soon they were sitting opposite each other, the curtains drawn, the candles lit and the fire crackling in the old hearth of the inglenook. Reid had put on a tape of love songs that played softly in the background, and the bottle of wine turned out to be champagne.

  'We ought to drink to something,' Casey suggested when Reid had filled her glass. 'What shall it be?'

  Picking up his own glass Reid clinked it against hers. 'There's really only one toast to make, isn't there?' he said, looking intently into her eyes. 'To us—and to our future.'

  And as Casey slowly nodded and drank the toast she was suddenly and completely certain that her future did indeed lie with Reid, that she loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  After they had drunk the toast, Reid covered her hand with his for a moment, but then, rather to Casey's relief, began to talk of other things. She answered him, but was in the grip of such deep emotion that at first she couldn't concentr
ate. It was only when they were eating their pudding that she was able to join in the conversation properly again and say, 'My brother was very impressed when I told him that I'd met you. I had no idea that you were so famous. It seems that he's into power-boat racing himself. He immediately demanded to meet you so that he could pick your brain.'

  'How old is he?' Reid asked.

  'Just twenty.'

  'Ah, just the age to be full of enthusiasm.' He looked at her shrewdly. 'And I suppose he'd like me to give him a ride in one of my boats?'

  'Well, yes, he would,' Casey admitted reluctantly. 'But of course you don't have to…'

  Lifting his hand in a silencing gesture, Reid said, 'It's all right. I don't mind. He might be good. And as it happens I'm looking for someone to train to take over my back-up boat.' He sat back in his chair and smiled at her. 'And anyway, isn't it about time that you took me to meet your family?'

  Casey's heart skipped another beat and it was almost a minute before she could say, 'All right. Perhaps we could go up there one Sunday.'

  Leaning forward Reid picked up her hand and played with her fingers, twining them within his own and bending to kiss them. 'Next Sunday,' he said firmly. Then he raised his eyebrows and looked directly into her eyes. 'Yes?'

  A simple question, but Casey realised that it meant so much more. 'Yes,' she answered without hesitation. 'We'll go next Sunday.'

  Reid gave a small smile, his hand tightening on hers until it hurt. 'Good,' he said on a soft note of satisfaction and happiness.

  They drank their coffee sitting by the fire; Reid in the armchair and Casey sitting on the floor at his feet. They didn't talk much, but Reid occasionally put his hand down to stroke her hair or run a finger down the length of her neck. Lifting her head to look at him, Casey felt so happy that she thought her heart would burst with it, as if her chest was too small to contain a heart that was so swollen with happiness. How strange, she thought. How strange that we should have met like we did—and that we both feel like this, when ordinarily we wouldn't have met at all.

  Tentatively she lifted her hand and put it on Reid's knee. Immediately he put his over it and pulled her up on to his lap. His eyes darkening with desire, he bent to kiss her, savouring her lips, tasting their sweetness. Taking the pins from her hair, he ran his fingers through its silken tresses, taking pleasure in its softness. His lips moved to her throat, delightfully insinuating and yet tantalising too, awakening the now familiar ache of need deep in her stomach, that seemed to grow until every part of her body wanted to be touched, to be kissed.