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  Her father, too, was annoyed now, but he had had more practice at holding it in check. Getting to his feet, he came over and put a placating hand on her arm. 'Now, let's try and talk this over calmly. There's really no need to get so worked up about it.'

  Minta jerked her arm away. 'I'm going to see him again! You needn't try and persuade me—make me see reason, as you call it. Nothing you say will make any difference.'

  He stared at her, taken aback by her vehemence. 'You must like him a lot,' he observed slowly.

  'Yes, I do. I like him so much that I…' For a moment she was on the point of telling him everything; not only was she angry, but also she had always confided in her father and subconsciously wanted his approval now, but her promise to Dane held her back. 'That I shall go out with him whenever he asks me,' she finished, her chin coming up defiantly.

  Richard Tennant was the senior director of a highly successful merchant bank and was used to having his orders obeyed without question, especially by his juniors. Now he made the fatal mistake of expecting his daughter to do the same. His voice rising, he said harshly, 'You will do as you're told. You are not to get involved with Dane Fenton. Do you understand?'

  Minta stared at him, unused to having him use that tone with her now that she was grown up. Colour flamed in her cheeks as she glared back at him. 'Well, that's just too bad,' she retorted angrily. 'Because you're too late—I already am involved with him.'

  'And just what is that supposed to mean?' he demanded explosively.

  'It means just whatever you want to think it does!' Furiously Minta turned on her heel and slammed out of the room. Ignoring his barked command to come back, she ran upstairs to her bedroom, locking the door firmly behind her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For several minutes Minta stood by the door, listening, afraid that her father would follow her and demand to have it out, but he stayed downstairs and she eventually went to sit on her bed, still trembling with anger. Taking the ring from her pocket, she sat looking at it for a long time, then put it back on her finger, turning her hand so that the light caught the jewels and enhanced their brilliance. Kicking off her shoes, she lay back on the bed, still fully dressed, her mind far too full to even think of sleep. Uppermost, of course, was the row with her father. It was the last thing she had wanted, but he had more or less forced it on her when he had taken that dictatorial attitude. Even if she hadn't been in love with Dane she would have resented such heavy-handed interference. And it wasn't like him; usually they had a good relationship and could talk things over until they reached an agreement, but tonight he had hardly even attempted to discuss the situation, had just issued a peremptory order. Perhaps he was mad because he hadn't been able to spend the night with Maggie after all, Minta thought cynically. Perhaps they'd even had a row.

  She would very much liked to have phoned Dane to tell him about it, but she didn't have an extension in her room and was afraid of facing her father again if she tried to use the one in the kitchen. Thinking of Dane drew her thoughts back to that brief interlude when they had been alone in the sitting-room. He had been right about being able to do better given the right time and place; the way he had made love to her had been the most devastating experience she had ever had. His hands and lips had set her body on fire, even now her body ached for his touch. Dimly Minta realised that he had a great deal of expertise, which must mean that he'd known a lot of women in the past, but it didn't worry her in the least; in fact she was thankful for it; if it had taught him to be that good a lover then she was all for it. She wondered, if her father hadn't come home, whether Dane would have spent the night with her, here, in her own bed. In her imagination she pictured them together, and her body grew hot as she thought of his hands moving over her. But she knew that even her most vivid imaginings could never approach the magic of reality. Not with Dane.

  Her throat dry, hands trembling a little, Minta got ready for bed, opening the drawer to take a last look at the delicate underwear she had bought earlier that day. Her hands gently caressed the soft silk. Soon she would be wearing them for Dane. Then she smiled; but not for very long, if tonight was anything to go by. Dane obviously had a high sexual appetite, and she was more than willing to satisfy it, just as often as he wanted.

  Richard Tennant left for work as usual the next morning, so Minta was able to avoid him by simply staying in her room until he had gone. Then she hurried down to the kitchen in case Dane called, although she didn't really expect him to this early. After breakfast she hung around in the kitchen until she annoyed Doyley, who shooed her out of the way, so she went up to change, ready to go out and meet Dane the moment he called her. Then, too impatient to wait any longer, she phoned his hotel, only to be told that he had already left, so she had no choice but to wait until he rang about half an hour later.

  'Why didn't you call me before?' she demanded. 'I've been waiting and waiting!'

  'Sorry, darling; I had an early appointment in Cambridge. I'm there now. I forgot to tell you after everything that happened last night.'

  'I wish Daddy hadn't come back.'

  'So do I—definitely! But maybe it's just as well he did. You are turning out to be a very sexy young lady, capable of undermining all my good intentions.'

  'It isn't your good intentions I'm interested in,' Minta told him saucily.

  He gave a rich, masculine laugh. 'I'll remind you of that on Tuesday night.'

  Minta caught her breath. 'Oh, Dane!'

  'I know.' His voice was full of understanding. 'I feel that way too.'

  'After you'd left last night,' she said hesitatingly, 'Daddy and I had rather a row.'

  'About me?'

  'Yes, I'm afraid so. He tried to warn me off you.'

  'Oh, hell! I hoped it wouldn't come to this. I'm so sorry, darling. Was it very bad?'

  'No, not really. I just told him that I'd go out with you as often as I liked.'

  'You didn't tell him that we're engaged? That we're going to be married?'

  'No. Just that we're seeing each other.'

  'Good girl,' Dane said approvingly, giving her a warm glow of pleasure. 'I don't want you to have to face that alone. Did your father give any reasons for not wanting you to see me again?'

  'He said it was because you were trying to negotiate a deal with his bank. How's it going, Dane? Have you had any success?'

  'Some,' he answered cheerfully. 'The meeting I had this morning went very well.'

  'When are you coming back?'

  'Right now. I should be back in central London in a couple of hours, so we can have lunch.'

  They met at an old restaurant in the City where Dr Johnson had once held court, and where they still served the same traditionally English food. When they had eaten their delicious and filling steak and kidney puddings, Dane said, 'I called the hotel before I left Cambridge. There was a message from your father asking me to see him.'

  'Are you going to?' Minta asked apprehensively. 'Yes, but not until Monday. I phoned his secretary and she tried to make me see him today, but I managed to fob her off. Being out of town helped, of course.'

  'What do you think he wants?'

  Dane shrugged, it could well be merely business, but then… well, as he didn't succeed with you, maybe he thought he'd try to persuade me to keep away.'

  'Will you tell him then?'

  'Yes, I expect so.' He reached out and covered her hand with his. 'Are you afraid, Minta?'

  'Of my father? Or of marriage?'

  'Both, I suppose.'

  She looked troubled. 'I'm not really afraid of Daddy. I know he's bound to be angry at first, but I think he'll come round. We get on well really and we don't usually row at all, last night was an exception.'

  'Minta, the last thing I want to do is come between you and your father,' Dane told her earnestly.

  'You're not,' she answered instantly. 'It's Daddy who is trying to come between you and me.'

  'My darling girl; I don't deserve that.' He looked at her
warmly, his hand tightening on hers. 'But you haven't answered the second part of my question.'

  'Am I afraid of marriage? Yes, in a way. I'm apprehensive about leaving England and everyone I know, of going to live in a strange country. But I'll be with you, and beside that nothing else matters.' She smiled. 'And I'm certainly not afraid of you.'

  But although she denied it so confidently, Minta was a little afraid of him; afraid of the force of emotion he could arouse in her and the power he had to make or mar her happiness; in awe, too, of his worldly sophistication and self-confidence so that she was afraid he might find her too inexperienced. But those things she kept to herself.

  They saw each other again that evening and almost constantly over the weekend. Luckily the cold weather broke and the sun came out again; so that they were able to stroll around Regent's Park, watching the breeze catch the last rich golden leaves of autumn and send them whirling and flying across the grass. They walked arm in arm, wrapped up in warm coats, and stopped often to lean against a tree and kiss, and they talked, or at least Minta mostly talked, telling Dane all about herself.

  And they talked of their wedding, agreeing that Dane would tell her father on Monday and, depending on his reaction, they would either get married immediately in a Registrar's office, or have a more formal ceremony a couple of days later, when they hoped her father would attend.

  'I wish he wasn't so dead set against you,' Minta said wistfully. 'Just what is that business deal you're negotiating with the bank?'

  Dane hesitated a moment, then said, 'You remember I told you I'd inherited some property in the Canaries? Well, it's near the coast and I want to build a holiday village there, on the time-share principle: that's where people buy a couple of weeks in a villa for perpetuity,' he explained. 'And the management maintain the place and make sure everything is running properly. There wouldn't only be villas, of course, but swimming pools, shops, a golf course and tennis courts; everything you'd need for a holiday.'

  'And you want Daddy's bank to finance it for you?'

  'Not really.' He smiled at her. it's a bit involved. I merely want the bank to act as a sort of guarantor.' He pushed a windblown lock of fair hair off her face. 'Do you realise that you haven't kissed me for over half an hour?' he complained.

  Minta laughed and stood on tiptoe to put that right at once.

  She managed to avoid her father most of the time, sneaking out of the house when he wasn't around and running up to her room when she finally got home late at night. Once he stopped her and angrily demanded to know where she had been and who with, but Minta took refuge in the sulks and refused to answer. Then he started to give her a lecture on childish behaviour, so she simply turned and walked out of the room, to his furious imprecation of, 'Women!'

  Whether or not he knew she was going out with Dane, she wasn't sure; he must certainly suspect it. But there was no way he could know just how far things had gone between them. That, Minta thought apprehensively, he wouldn't find out until Dane told him tomorrow.

  On Sunday night they sat in Dane's car parked in the street near her house. 'Let me go with you to see him tomorrow,' Minta begged.

  'No.' Dane shook his head decisively. 'If you come to the bank with me it would cause too much speculation about us among your father's staff, and I'm sure neither of you would want that. Better to let me face him alone.'

  'He's going to be terribly angry,' Minta warned unhappily.

  'Then all the more reason that I should take the brunt of it. I respect your father, but I'm not afraid of him,' he reminded her.

  She gave a small smile, her eyes running over his broad shoulders. 'I can't imagine you ever being afraid of anything.'

  'I'm afraid of losing you,' he said softly, putting his arm round her and drawing her closer. 'I'm afraid your father might persuade you to wait so that I won't be able to take you back with me.'

  'He won't,' Minta said forcefully. 'Nothing and no one will ever make me stop loving you. But I can't help worrying about tomorrow. I don't want to alienate Daddy completely. Perhaps it would be better if you didn't tell him in his office.'

  'He has to know, Minta,' Dane insisted gently. 'And it was he who asked me to go to his office, not his home.'

  'I know, but…'

  'Stop worrying.' Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the end of the nose. 'You said yourself that he's bound to come round.' His lips moved to her eyes. 'He'll be okay once he gets used to the idea.' He moved on down the soft line of her cheek, teased the corner of her mouth. 'He's going to have to let you go some time, darling.' His lips moved over hers lightly, in little exploring kisses, and he spoke against her mouth. 'And think what I can give you, that he can't.'

  The way he was kissing her, Minta could think of nothing else. Putting her arms round his neck, she returned his kiss hungrily, leaving him in no doubt that she wanted him. His hands moved over her caressingly, then he gave a groan. 'God, Minta, I think the next two days are going to be the longest of my life. The minutes are going to drag like hours until I can make you mine—really mine.'

  'I feel the same. I want you so much. Oh, darling, hold me—hold me close.'

  They parted at last, with Dane promising to phone Minta the next afternoon, as soon as he'd seen Richard Tennant. She hardly slept that night, wondering what would happen, feeling, despite Dane's assurances, that she ought to tell her father herself or at least be with Dane when he told him. To try to occupy her mind, she spent the morning shopping for the rest of the clothes she needed, buying herself a new coat and a white woollen long-sleeved dress, cut very simply, and also a pretty hat with flowers and a tiny veil. They cost the earth, but it didn't even occur to Minta that it might be hypocritical to charge them to her father's account.

  As the time approached for Dane's interview, she grew more and more restless, unable to sit and read a magazine, or do her nails, hovering by the phone in her father's study, willing it to ring even though she knew it was much too early. Once it did ring, but it was only a friend inviting her to a twenty-first birthday party which she had to refuse, finding it difficult to find an excuse when she couldn't tell the truth. For the first time some inkling came to her of how drastically her life was going to change; she was going to a place where she would be without friends, wouldn't even know anyone or speak the language, so that she would be entirely reliant on Dane the whole time. Or at least until she learnt to speak Spanish. Minta optimistically picked up the Spanish phrase book that she'd bought that morning and looked through it for anything she thought would be useful in her new ,life, but her eyes kept straying to the phone and it was impossible to concentrate.

  It was almost four o'clock before Dane finally rang.

  'What happened? What did he say?' Minta demanded anxiously before he had time to speak.

  'He wasn't exactly overjoyed.' Dane's voice sounded grim, and Minta's heart sank at least three levels. 'As soon as I walked in the room he more or less ordered me to get out of your life and stay out. So it came as something of a shock to him when I told him we were already engaged. He said all the things that we expected: that we hadn't known each other long enough, that we couldn't possibly be sure of our own minds, that I had no right to even think of taking you to live abroad. I told him, of course, that time wouldn't make any difference and that we wanted to get married straightaway.' Dane paused a moment, as if trying to control his voice. 'I'm afraid he got rather angry then. He ordered me never to see you again and said that I was clearly totally irresponsible. He said some other things, too, that I won't repeat.'

  'Oh, Dane, was it very bad?'

  'It wasn't pleasant,' he admitted. 'I'm glad you weren't there. Eventually I made him see that we were serious about each other, but I'm afraid he wouldn't accept it. He even accused me of ..He broke off abruptly.

  'Of what?'

  But he wouldn't say. 'Nothing. It doesn't matter. We argued for quite some time, and when he found that he couldn't browbeat me into submitting to him, he said th
at he wanted to see you and speak to you about it.'

  'Well, that's to be expected, I suppose. Oh, darling, I'm sorry he gave you such a hard time.'

  He laughed. 'My shoulders are broad enough to take it. And you're definitely worth fighting for. But I had to make one concession: I promised your father that I'd let him talk to you alone tonight.' He sounded tired suddenly. 'I didn't want you to have to face him alone, but maybe he'll be more reasonable once he's got over his first anger and sees you tonight. As long as you can stand up to him, darling.'

  'I will, don't worry. He's—he's not an unreasonable man, Dane. Once he realises that we love each other, I'm sure he'll be okay.' But although she spoke optimistically, Minta had never provoked this kind of crisis before, and she wasn't at all certain how her father would react.

  'I hope so. But you must promise me, Minta, that if things become—difficult you'll phone me, and I'll come over and get you.'

  'All right, but I'm sure it won't come to that. Did you tell him we've got a special licence? That we could be married tomorrow?'

  'No, I thought it best to give him time to simmer down. He had a violent enough reaction to our engagement.'

  'It's probably because I'm an only child,' Minta explained. 'And we've been very close since my mother died. I suppose he feels extra-protective towards me. And perhaps he's hurt that I didn't confide in him.'

  'Does he confide the details of his affair with Maggie to you?'

  'Well, no.' She felt slightly shocked at the thought.

  'Then why should he expect you to tell the details of yours to him?' Dane said curtly. Then his voice grew rueful. 'Sorry, darling, I'm afraid your father got my back up. I'll be thinking of you tonight, when you see him.’

  'I know. I was thinking of you this afternoon. When will I see you?'

  'Tomorrow. Phone me tonight, if you can. If not, as early as possible tomorrow morning. Then we'll decide what we're going to do. I love you, Minta—always remember that. And remember that I'm here if things get too rough.'