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'Dad . . .' The word was said warningly.

'It'll do you good,' his father said heartily. 'You get more and more like a crusty old bachelor every day. Too much work and no play, that's your trouble. Frankly, my boy, you're getting boring.'

Was this really the man from whom Prentice had got his prejudice about divorced women? This big, blunt bear of a man who seemed so easy-going was absolutely nothing like the embittered father Dani had expected him to be.

Prentice's lips thinned into an ominously straight line and Dani had to choke back the desire to defend him. He was not boring! He was attractive and vital and she was sure that there was a wealth of warmth inside him if only he would let it out. He had shown her that it was there on rare, too rare, occasions, and she wanted to see it all the time.

'He'll do it,' John McCulloch said confidently. 'Just tell me when and where.'

'Friday,' Dani said quickly before Prentice could step in and categorically refuse the invitation. 'Mr McCulloch, your son . . .' This was confusing. ' . . . has kindly let us have the big room again. We shall have tea and games and Father Christmas usually comes at four.'

'Fine.' The older man nodded. 'And I think you'd better call me Mac. Two McCullochs around is somewhat confusing, and you seem determined not to call my son by his christian name.'

It was not her fault, Dani thought indignantly. Prentice had set the tone of the conversation by using her formal title. She was about to say so when she caught the twinkle in the older man's eye and knew that she was being teased.

'My name's Dani,' she said meekly.

'Good. Well, now that's all settled, Dani, Prentice can show me the rest of the house. It seems a shame to turn it into a country club,
doesn't it?'

'Come on, Dad.' Prentice spoke through his teeth, but John McCulloch merely laughed.

'Look forward to seeing you again, Dani,' he said, but after they had gone, she could not forget baleful green eyes that had seen her wry amusement at his discomfiture and resented it. If only those eyes could look at her with love in them. If only.

It was beginning to get dark by the time Dani had cleared her classroom and pegged the children's paintings on a makeshift line to dry. She took off her smock, ran her fingers through her hair and glanced at her watch.

'It's time you were going home,' a familiar voice said from the doorway.

'Hello,' she said casually, swinging round to face Prentice. 'I wondered if I'd see you again today.'

'You did?' He strolled into the room, hands in the pockets of his grey slacks, and Dani turned away to flip through a pile of maths books on her table. She could face him with a third party present, but it was almost impossible when the two of them were alone. The events that had taken place on the night of the fire were as fresh in her mind as the day they had taken place. How could he be so unconcerned?

'Mmm.' She still would not face him. 'I suspect you've come to tell me that you can't be Father Christmas because you have a prior engagement. Right?'

'Wrong.' She heard his footsteps come further into the room. 'I don't like the idea of it, I admit that, and personally I think my Dad would have been the better choice, but I won't back down.' A thread of ruefulness crept into his voice. 'I did suggest to Dad that he should do it, but he just laughed. So it'll have to be me.'

'I see.' Dani wanted to ask what he was doing in her classroom, but was afraid of the answer. She fiddled with her books a second time.

'Don't.' He must have been closer than she had thought. His arm reached around her and his hand came down on top of hers, closing the book. 'Look at me.'

'What do you want?' She smelt the tweedy scent of the cloth of his jacket, and his aftershave, and fought to keep her voice steady.

'I want you to answer a question.' His hand moved to her shoulder and turned her to face him. 'It's quite a simple one.' The green eyes gleamed. 'About a picture of a nude.'

'Oh dear.' She was tired and she did not like the edge in his voice.

'You made a fool out of me.' The words spilled out of him as if he had been keeping them caged behind his teeth. 'You let me think the woman was you.'

'You seemed to want to think that,' she countered quietly.

'Not true. I hated the idea.'

'How did you find out?' She sensed that he was on the verge of saying more, and tried to distract him.

'I offered to buy it from Brian.' The well-shaped lips twisted into a smile that held no amusement and Prentice shrugged. 'He wanted to know why I wanted a picture of his girl-friend, and I thought he meant you. I got angry. Told him to name his price. He said Tricia would be flattered.' The fingers on Dani's shoulder squeezed painfully. 'You made a fool out of me!' Jade eyes flashed a familiar message of anger.

Dani knew she should have felt relief that the misunderstanding which she had wilfully not explained to him, was now out in the open. She felt nothing but weariness. The revelation had not helped either of them.

'I didn't, you know.' She pulled away from him and picked up the pile of books, holding them closely against her body as if they were a shield that would protect her from this man. 'If you were honest, you might ask yourself if you didn't
want
to believe it was me.'

'Why in hell should I do that?'

'Because I think,' she said carefully, 'that it was easier for you to believe the worst of me rather than the best. Divorced woman posing naked for an artist, maybe sharing the artist's bed. I gave you another good reason not to . . .' Oh no, no, she couldn't go on. She could not, even with her own rising anger, let the word 'love' pass her lips.

'Another good reason not to. . . what?' Every syllable of the question was carefully uttered in a quiet voice that she had never heard before. 'Go on, Mrs Robertson. Tell me exactly what you think.'

'I think the picture just reinforced your prejudice against divorced women.' There was no future for them. What did it matter what she said? 'Why don't you stay away from me?' Her voice rose passionately. 'Why can't you let me get on with my life in peace? Why don't you leave me alone?'

'I can't.'

The soft admission stunned her. He couldn't? Why couldn't he?'

'Prentice, this is silly . . .'she began.

'Isn't it?' A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth. 'I came in here mad as hell because I thought you'd made a fool out of me, and when I see you . . .' The smile widened and made his face soft and vulnerable. 'Well, when I see you, things get back into perspective again.'

'I'm so glad.' She made her voice frosty. 'I can't tell you how tired I get of being around when you lose your temper.'

The smile faded. Dani clasped her books more tightly and took a deep breath. If he could not stay away from her, perhaps she could make sure that he did; sever the silken thread of attraction that linked them with one swift blow.

'You,' he said between his teeth, 'are enough to make any man lose his temper. You think I like to see a woman crying when I'm kissing her? You think I want to believe that you'd allow Brian to put a picture of you, naked, on some studio wall. . .'

'There is nothing wrong with that!'

'. . . for anyone to look at? Why couldn't you have accepted my offer to find your damn watch gracefully?'

'I didn't know you!'

'Isn't it enough to make any man see red when the lady he . . .' Prentice stopped abruptly. 'When he finds a woman behaving like a fool in a burning building? You think I like being pushed into a duckpond?' The last question was asked on a rising tide of furious indignation. Dani turned away and her shoulders shook.

'Damn!' She heard him utter the expletive sharply. Then his voice dropped. 'Dani, don't cry.' There was the Prentice she loved. 'Damn it, don't cry!'

Hands touched her shoulders gingerly, as if afraid that she might break away and run, and then gripped more firmly. Dani gulped and allowed him to turn her around, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and trying desperately to compose her face.

'You're laughing!' The accusation was full of astonishment. 'I thought . . .' A firm hand tipped her head back and she bit her lip with embarrassment as she was forced to look into his face.

'Sorry,' she said meekly.

'That damn duckpond!' He shook his head. 'I think it has a lot to answer for.'

'You've never forgiven me for it, have you?' She longed to raise her hand and smooth the lines away from his forehead. 'I'm sorry. You were being so arrogant that I couldn't resist it.'

'Arrogant?' His face twisted. 'Thanks. And now I suppose you're going to tell me you asked me to be Father Christmas because you thought I'd make a good job of it.'

'Anyone,' Dani said gently, 'who can make a voice like a dragon, who can do his very best to make puppets come to life for the sake of a few children, will make a very good Father Christmas.' She trembled against the desire to put her arms around his neck and kiss him. Why, she wondered miserably, couldn't he drop his facade, just a little, and show the world the gentle, compassionate side of his nature?

Prentice McCulloch blushed. Dani saw the red creep into his cheeks, saw from the look in his eyes that he knew he was blushing, and could not resist the little-boy-lost expression on his face. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his, caressing them with gentle sweetness, and trying to tell him with the simple gesture that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Then she turned, slipping neatly out of the arms that would have restrained her, and walked to the door of the room.

'Dani?' His voice pleaded with her to stay, but she just waved to him as she left the room. If she stayed she would tell him that she loved him, and he would not want to hear that.

'He's
coming!' Darren's high-pitched voice rose above the excited chatter of the other children as they stood at the window of the room in which their party was being held. 'And he's got his sleigh!'

'Now that,' Emma Rowett said softly to Dani, 'is a nice idea. He's a thoughtful man, isn't he? No wonder he wanted the children to watch for him.'

The children's party had been a success. Dani, Emma Rowett and the mothers who had volunteered to do the tea and help with the games, had all worked hard but, Dani decided, it had been worth it. The children's excitement had been reflected in their faces and even some of the older ones, the ones who would be saying goodbye to the school in the summer, had lost their new dignity in being the most senior children in the school and had joined in enthusiastically.

Now they all stood at the big front windows of the Manor and watched as the sleigh, pulled by two ponies, clip-clopped smartly up the long drive. As it drew nearer, they could all hear the jingle of bells and the crunching sound of wheels on the tarmac, and from his place in the sleigh, Father Christmas waved.

'Isn't that pretty,' one of the mothers standing behind Dani said. 'I knew something was going on at the stable this week. They must have converted one of the old carts that was lying around there. Who would have thought. . .'

Her voice died away as Dani glanced over her shoulder, but Dani merely grinned sympathetically. Who would have thought that Prentice McCulloch would have had this amount of imagination in him? Dani looked at the red-swathed figure coming up the drive and fell in love with Prentice all over again. He might be awkward, short-tempered, prejudiced, exasperating and bewildering, but she still loved him without question or reserve.

She had seen him once since their confrontation in the classroom, and Dani still felt warmed by the memory of the children's Nativity play. Prentice had been there with his father and half-brother, and had seemed to enjoy himself. Yet the moment that Dani would never forget— held safe and protected in her heart—had come right at the end when everyone had stood to sing the final carol, and she slipped into the main hall to join in the singing, her duties as stage-manager finished for the moment.

Prentice had stood at the end of one row of chairs, and he had held out his hand to her as she approached. Surprised, she had joined him hesitantly, to be lost in a wave of love for him as he kept her fingers within his as they sang the carol together. It had been a few minutes of precious tenderness for Dani as she had clasped his hand tightly, wishing that their meetings could always be filled with such soft happiness, and when the carol had ended, she had slipped away from him before he could shatter the spell that he had, probably unknowingly, woven around her.

The noise of the children drew Dani abruptly back to the present as the sleigh pulled up outside the front door, and while she hushed them a little, she could not help but be carried away on the crest of their excitement. It was not easy to persuade the children to sit in a large semicircle on the floor to wait for Father Christmas to enter the room, but once they were assembled, Emma Rowett started to sing 'Jingle Bells' in her quiet soprano, and the children joined in eagerly.

Dani looked at their bright faces and sighed, reminded of a daydream that she had enjoyed fleetingly while she had held Prentice's hand and sung the carol. Now it seemed more like a wild fantasy, even embarrassing her a little as she stood among the other mothers. She had dreamed—oh, just for a minute—that one of the children singing the hymn had been their child, hers and Prentice's, and that they were proud parents. A russet-haired boy with green eyes, or a girl who might look a little like her.

As soon as Father Christmas walked in through the door with the big sack on his back, Dani was jolted back to the present, and she could not help a pang of bitter disappointment that Prentice had reneged on his promise. She had expected too much, asked for too much, and this was his answer to the request she had made. Probably, Dani thought painfully, John McCulloch had taken pity on his son and agreed to take his place. This Father Christmas was a round giant of a man, his great white curly beard hiding most of the lower part of his face, and a white wig obscuring his hair. Did Prentice think she could be fooled? Did he really not know that his eyes were one shade deeper and a little more penetrating than his father's? As soon as she saw those eyes, she would know for sure.