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She was beginning to accept the fact that he was not Mark. Little things—too tiny to be of any significance in themselves—told her he was not the same person. Mark, for instance, would never have slept on a camp bed. He liked his comfort too much. And a quiet day by the sea? Not at all in his line.

Another thing that she was afraid to acknowledge —refused to acknowledge—yet couldn’t ignore. Her response to Luke’s overtures. It wasn’t simply because he looked like Mark, no matter how many times she told herself it was. She definitely felt drawn towards him, whether it was just a physical attraction she was not sure at this stage—but she couldn’t easily push to one side the effect he had on her. Whether he was married or not the magnetism was there. She despised herself for falling prey to another man who did not want her—for of course he didn’t. He had a wife—who he presumably loved and who he was bringing here to this village—a thought that had not bothered her until now. Any overtures on his part were merely a form of therapy to try and convince her that she still loved Mark. It seemed that no sooner had she got over one man she was thrown right back in and had to start sorting out her life all over again. Yet in spite of these thoughts she looked forward to spending a whole day in his company.

When Taryn awoke the sun was already high in the sky. Jumping out of bed, she looked through the window—just in time to see Luke’s helicopter passing overhead. Her first thought was that he had changed his mind and was leaving after all. A tremor of disappointment ran through her—then she remembered his offer to Rory and smiled. He was a kind man. No wonder her nephew had taken to him.

Downstairs Gammy put her breakfast on the table. ‘You’re late, child,’ she said. ‘Luke’s been up hours. Says you’re going to Seacombe today. When did you decide?’

‘About two this morning,’ smiled Taryn, and in reply to her aunt’s raised eyebrows she explained Luke’s mishap with the milk.

Gammy laughed. ‘Never heard a thing myself. Eat up now and I’ll see what I can find for your lunch.'

An hour later they were on their way. It was a glorious summer day and Taryn felt almost lighthearted. Almost—the only cloud on her horizon being Luke’s married status. Determinedly, though, she pushed this thought to the back of her mind— this would be a day to remember.

Luke drove. He looked cramped in the Mini, even with the seat pushed back as far as it would go, but he assured her he was all right. ‘You can take a turn later,' he said, ‘if I feel too uncomfortable.’

She looked at him now, his crisp white shirt open to the waist, tailored linen slacks, suede shoes. The silver medallion he wore round his neck glinted in the rays of the sun. He turned, aware of Taryn’s interest, and smiled. ‘Happy?’

‘Mmm,’ she nodded blissfully, recalling that this time yesterday she had been on her way to Seacombe to escape Luke Major and now here she was going along with him—and enjoying every minute. It was strange how her feelings had changed in a few short hours. ‘Who wouldn’t be—on such a marvellous day?’

‘And with such marvellous company?’ his dimple giving away to the humour which accompanied his statement.

‘But of course—-I like modest men.'

He laughed. ‘And I like you. It must be years since I gave myself a day off like this. I’m determined to make the most of it.’

‘Surely you have holidays?'

‘Of a kind—usually busman’s holidays. No, I feel free today. I’m going to forget about work.’

Taryn pulled a face. ‘I was going to ask what you thought of the progress at Dale End, but I suppose I’d better keep quiet.’

‘That’s different—I don't mind talking about the house. It’s going to be my retreat—my little hideaway.’ He braked quickly to avoid a stray lamb that had wandered across the road. ‘I must say I was pleasantly surprised. Andy’s raked together some good men, and between them they’re working wonders.’

‘Do you approve of the decor?’

His mouth twitched. ‘Naturally. I knew I would. I told you I trusted your taste.’

‘Thank you, kind sir,’ said Taryn demurely. ‘I can’t wait to see the finished result. I’ve had a whale of a time choosing the furniture and the carpets and the curtains.’ She put her head to one side contemplatively. ‘You know, I might take up interior designing if this turns out successfully. I rather fancy myself in that role.’

He shot her a sidelong glance. ‘In preference to your old job?’

‘Definitely. I’ve come to the conclusion that high fashion is not for me. I don’t regret it. My training will still help. It’s given me an eye for colour and the blending of colours and textures. It can be applied equally to fabrics or houses.’

‘Well said,’ applauded Luke. ‘If you do decide to change over to interior designing let me know. I might be able to give you a few leads.’

An hour later the road led them alongside a river. ‘Let’s rest a while,’ said Luke, stopping the car and stretching his arms lazily above his head. ‘They certainly didn’t make these cars with tall men in mind.’

‘You insisted,’ laughed Taryn. ‘Come on, let's cross to the other side.’

A series of rocks led to the opposite bank, looking as though they had been put there for that purpose. Taryn took off her sandals and rolled up her jeans. ‘In case I slip,’ she explained, but Luke, it seemed, had no such qualms. He strode easily from boulder to boulder, pausing occasionally to ensure that Taryn was following safely.

He had almost reached the other side when his foot slipped on a stone that, because it was lower in the water, was covered by a layer of slime. His arms flailed the air in a futile attempt to regain his balance. Taryn started to laugh at the comical picture he presented, but her mirth changed to concern when his hand caught her arm and she went down in the water with him. For a moment they looked at each other in silence. Then Luke’s dimples appeared. Suddenly they were both helpless with laughter.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, once he had regained his composure. ‘You’re not hurt?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Taryn flexed her limbs experimentally. She rubbed her hip. ‘A bit sore where I fell, but otherwise fine.’

‘Good—but what a sight we look! Shall we go back to die car or lie down in the sun until we dry out?’

‘We’ll go back. I’ve brought my swimming gear with me—and a pair of Robert’s trunks for you. If we change into those it will save wetting the car. Once we get to Seacombe we can dry our clothes there.’

‘Efficient as well as pretty.’ His voice held admiration and Taryn felt a warm glow spread through her body. Determinedly she moved away. Nothing must spoil this day—least of all her emotions.

‘Do you know,’ she called over her shoulder, gingerly retracing her steps, ‘this is the same river that runs through our valley?’

Luke stopped and looked upstream with renewed interest. ‘In that case we should have come by boat.’ Taryn’s laughter mingled with the running waters as they gurgled and bubbled between the boulders. ‘I’d like to see you! It runs underground for several miles.'

‘Oh, well,’ he shrugged, ‘it was just a thought. I’ve never done any boating. It’s something I’ve always promised myself but never found the time to do.’

‘We can soon remedy that,’ called Taryn. ‘I know an old fisherman in Seacombe who might lend us his boat. It’s not the height of luxury, but at least it’s seaworthy.'

They changed behind the shrubs near the bank of the river. Robert’s trunks fitted Luke perfectly and as he turned his back to put his clothes into the car Taryn suddenly realised that here was indisputable proof that he was not Mark. Running diagonally across Mark’s back had been a long jagged scar, faded by the years yet still clearly visible. An accident when he was a boy, he had told her, and she had not liked to question him further.

‘What’s the matter?’

Taryn was unaware that she stood perfectly still staring at Luke’s smooth, brown back. ‘I’ve just found out you’re not Mark,’ she said faintly.

His eyebrows rose until they almost disappeared beneath the brown hair that fell forward over his forehead. ‘The times I’ve denied it! What have I done now to convince you?'

‘Mark had a scar—across his back.’

His eyes softened and a wide smile appeared. ‘Hallelujah!’ Quicker than lightning his arms were about her waist and he twirled her round, laughing delightedly. ‘Perhaps now we can get down to the serious business of becoming friends.’

Taryn
recalled Luke’s words as she climbed up to Dale End the next morning. It had been an enjoyable day—one of the best she could recall—but now that he had gone she began to wonder whether it had been a wise thing to encourage him.

She had deliberately pushed all thoughts of his wife to the back of her mind, not a difficult task as Luke never mentioned her. She sometimes wondered why, but did not dwell on it, thankful in a way not to be reminded of what was the only flaw in their relationship.

In every other respect he had proved a delightful companion, teasing, flirting, attentive to her every whim. On the boat he had been like a small boy and had gone so far out that the mainland was a mere speck, returning only when Taryn had implored him not to go any further.

It had been dark when they returned home, and Gammy had already gone to bed. They had crept round the cottage like two burglars not wishing to be caught. For the second night running Luke had slept on the camp bed, but when Taryn woke he had gone.

Gammy asked no questions about their day out, so Taryn presumed Luke must have told her all. She was glad, for she did not feel like discussing Luke with anyone. This new-found friendship was as yet too fragile to be shared, too delicate to even think about—for it had no future. Yet it was impossible not to recall the pleasure this man had given her. In one respect it was like her courtship with Mark all over again and she supposed it was natural to be attracted to someone so like her first love.

At times she found herself thinking it
was
Mark who caught her hand, Mark who playfully kissed the nape of her neck as they threw themselves down on the sands exhausted after a race along the shore. Then on other occasions it could be no one else but Luke. The gift of wild flowers, the exquisitely shaped piece of green glass, worn smooth by years of tidal disturbances, a tiny pink shell which he had said was as delicate as the tips of her ears. This was Luke, a romantic Luke hidden for the biggest part of the time by his professional veneer.

Her affair in Naples had taught her that love comes easily to some people. Mark had said she was the only girl in the world for him, yet within a few short months he had turned to someone else. Now Luke—married, yet carrying on a mild flirtation. As Taryn was fully aware of the situation no harm would be done, so long as she handled it correctly, either to Luke’s wife or to her own peace of mind.

It was easier to put her thoughts into order than to carry them out. Even as she neared the house and heard the sound of workmen whistling her mind was for once not on the job in hand, but on the man whose home this would ultimately become. The week stretched emptily ahead. In fact—a startling thought —Luke had not said whether he would be coming down next weekend or not. It could be that he regarded their excursion as a pleasant interlude—indeed he must, for there was no future in their relationship.

Taryn called out a greeting to Andy before mounting the stairs, glancing approvingly at the freshly painted walls. The whole of the upper floor had been redecorated—apart from the two bedrooms which were being converted into bathrooms. The plumbers were due to arrive today to carry out the necessary work.

Taryn had chosen a soft dusky pink bathroom suite for Luke’s wife and a deep-piled dove grey carpet. She stood in the doorway of the empty room imagining the finished results. The overall effect should be prettily feminine. For some reason she had gained the impression that the other woman was accustomed to being surrounded by expensive, elegant objects, and was doing her best to create an atmosphere that would prove to be all of these things.

She wandered now into the tower room. The four-poster bed had arrived. In fact all was ready for its new occupant. Taryn herself had polished the windows last week and hung the lacy curtains which matched the drapes on the bed. Here again pink was the predominant colour, ranging in shades from palest rosebud to deep cyclamen, relieved only by the luxurious lilac carpet.

It was a room any woman would be proud to possess, and Taryn lingered a while before passing next door into Luke’s quarters. She had encountered difficulty here, not really knowing what he would like. Eventually she had chosen a tobacco brown carpet, cream walls and a deeper cream bed-cover. Heavy curtains in moss green added a touch of colour and the whole was a pleasing woodland effect.

Sighing deeply, Taryn went downstairs and sought out Andy. ‘I think I’ll go into Exeter,’ she said. They still haven’t delivered those red curtains I ordered for Luke’s study.’

Andy’s shaggy brows rose in surprise. ‘There’s plenty of time, lass. We haven’t started in there yet.’

But Taryn felt she must get out of the house. It had suddenly assumed claustrophobic tendencies which threatened to stifle her if she did not escape. The thought of Luke sharing this house with a woman who was as yet an unknown quantity filled her with distaste. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but there are other things I need, unless you want me here?’

Andy shook his head. ‘Not at all. Everything’s going perfectly. I must say they’re a willing lot of workers —I’ve never known a job done so quickly. Mind you, with the wages the gaffer’s paying them they should work hard. He’s even added a bonus if the house is ready within three weeks.’

‘Three weeks?’ Taryn looked at Andy incredulously. Luke had said nothing to her about being in a hurry to move in.

‘That’s right. The gaffer doesn’t believe in hanging about.’

Taryn’s face was thoughtful as she made her way back down the hill. Andy’s news had been a shock to her. This meant that in a little over a week’s time her work would be finished. Her association with Luke Major would come to an end, for it was unthinkable that she would see him once his wife lived here.