SWEET IS THE WEB

Anne Hampson

"I am not in a temper," Kim declared hotly But she was angry. Ever since their first meeting when Rock had called her a trespasser, they had been antagonists. In every sense of the word. Handsome, hard and contemptuous of her sex, Rock Linton had once said there wasn't a woman breathing who could induce him to give up his freedom. Kim visualized his downfall with pleasure-- felled by unrequited love. She hadn't thought of its possible effect on herself!

CHAPTER ONE

THE elusive, soporific perfume of frangipani drifted on the breeze as Kim, riding Sammy, the pretty grey gelding given to her by her employer, cantered into the dusty path leading to Katania Lodge. Her long fair hair fanned out over her shoulders, gleaming in the African sunshine, but at the front it formed damp little tendrils which clung to her clear wide forehead. Her eyes, deep pools of blue set wide apart and fringed by long, upcurling lashes, darkened as they espied the massive chestnut stallion tethered to a tree at the end of the back stoep.

Rock Linton, autocratic owner of all the timber-lands hereabouts, employer of dozens of African boys, confirmed bachelor whose stated opinion of women was more than enough to spur one of them into scratching out those iron-hard grey eyes of his ... he was here, visiting Kim's employer, the famous writer of travel books and books on Nature.

Kim slid from the saddle, reflecting on how she had come to work for Bartlet Nash in the first place. She had been wandering over the moors of Derbyshire, tears streaming down her white cheeks, wishing she could have died along with the three people whose car had been crushed by a runaway lorry— her father, mother and her fiancé. Bartlet—Bart as his friends called him—had been crawling on all fours, and because she had not expected to come across anyone on the lonely moors—and certainly not anyone acting as furtively as this—Kim had actually stumbled over him. With a swift apology he had risen and brought her to her feet. His keen brown eyes had seen at once that a terrible sadness possessed her and in less than ten minutes he had the whole story from her. She had found someone to talk to and she talked, endeavouring to ease the excruciating pain that pressed like a ton weight on her heart and on her mind.

'My child,' he had said compassionately, 'are you now quite alone in the world?'

'Yes, I've no one at all,' was her reply, choked almost to incoherence by the lump in her throat combined with a renewed flow of tears. 'Also I've to— to leave the h-house in which I live. The landlord wants to sell it.'

Bartlet Nash had immediately become brisk and businesslike. Putting away the magnifying glass he had been using to watch the activities of a beetle in the thick rough grass, he took up his haversack in one hand and put the other under Kim's elbow. It was only later, when she was able to stand back and view the whole situation objectively, that she realised fate had taken full control of her life, leading her from the grim dark path of sorrow into the daylight, and eventually into the sunshine.

'There, Sammy, you're free until this time tomorrow!' Kim broke her reflections to talk to the horse she loved to ride. He whinneyed from the other side of the white ranch fence before racing away to the far end of the paddock. Kim resumed her musings as she made her way towards the homestead. Bart had put her in his car, which they had come upon after about fifteen minutes' walk; he took her to his home, forced her to eat some steamed fish which his housekeeper had bought in for his dinner, and then, telling his housekeeper to get the spare bed ready, Bart had insisted that Kim stay the night at his home.

What happened after that was in every way calculated to take Kim's mind off her sorrow—at least to some small extent. Bart's secretary had left him a month ago and he hadn't been able to find a suitable replacement, so the post was offered to Kim, who had been a shorthand-typist in the office of a large household store. She had been away from her work for the past fortnight, unable to concentrate. Her boss had very soon lost his patience, she recalled as,

reaching the stoep, she began to mount the steps. She had better stay at home, he had advised shortly, adding that she could let him know when she felt fit to resume her work. She never went back; instead, she accepted the post offered to her by Bart.

'As I've been without a secretary for so long,' he had said, 'there's an accumulation of work. It's mainly typing out what I've scribbled, so there's no real concentration necessary. Do this typing for me, Kim, and don't go bothering your head about mistakes. This is by no means the final typescript of the book.'

Soon she was living at his lovely home, waited on by a housekeeper as kind and understanding as the man for whom she worked. It was Bart who saw to the selling of Kim's furniture, and the removal to his home of those items she wanted to keep. Her path had been smoothed by Bart in every way that it was possible for him to smooth it, and Kim had vowed that she would never leave his employ until he himself—probably on his retirement—found he no longer needed her. During the past eight years she had travelled thousands of miles with him and now, at twenty-six, she was to spend a year or more in Africa, helping him in his research, typing his notes, and waiting on him just a little, as he had no housekeeper here to pander to his eccentric little whims. When the field-work was finally over there would be the manuscript to type out. After that she and Bart would be leaving for South America, where he would be writing a travel book.

Bringing her thoughts to an end, Kim stood for a moment, gazing around her. It had rained during the night and the earth smelled of moisture; everything looked green and fresh, though unfortunately some of the more delicate flowers in the garden had taken a battering. She could hear the sound of insects in the hibiscus bushes, and the fluted call of a bird as it flew out of a scrub-oak to glide effortlessly into the branches of a tall poplar.

She turned, entering the living-room a moment later, having used the french window leading from the stoep. Rock, his customary stony stare directed at her—and seeming to see right through the striped cotton shirt and denims she wore! —gave her one of his familiar sardonic smiles and casually remarked,

'And how is Miss Mason? Enjoy your ride?'

Her shoulders lifted with faint hauteur, a gesture that was by no means new to Rock.

'Very much, Mr Linton. I see that you rode over. You're going to get drenched on your way back,' she warned spitefully, and Rock's eyes narrowed. Before he had time to utter the caustic rejoinder that hovered on his lips, Bart spoke, a frown creasing his forehead.

'I do wish you two would be more friendly and use your given names. Miss Mason! Mr Linton! Sounds damned silly to me!' His frown deepened with his concentration. 'You've known one another for over three months now,' he told them severely. 'What's wrong with you?' His brown eyes searched their faces in turn. 'Anyone would think you detested one another, the way you snap -'

'I don't snap, Bart,' protested Kim, glancing first at Rock and then, more significantly, at the sky outside, where sulky cumulo-nimbus clouds were gathering with ominous intent. As yet they were some distance away, but already the sun had gone from the sky.

'Not much, you don't!' came Rock's swift and biting retort.

'She never snaps at anyone else,' observed Bart thoughtfully, having ignored Kim's protest. Rock threw her a glance of sardonic amusement, because she had coloured slightly and because her eyes were glinting with indignation.

'I've just said I don't snap; I meant at Mr Linton.'

'Well now, I don't think you can deny ...' Bart, his mind having drifted to a problem connected with his work, shook himself from his abstracted state and added, 'You both snap, as I remarked just now. Why don't you shake hands and forget whatever it is that started it all?' He sighed impatiently. 'What did start it all?' he demanded, obviously wondering why he had not asked the question before now.

It was their turn to glance at one another, each entering a mood of reflection, bringing back the scene of that first encounter. Kim had been strolling along the bank of the small stream running through Rock's plantations. With her memories of the complete freedom of the Derbyshire moors to any nature-lover who chose to use them, Kim had not at first even thought that she might be trespassing. When eventually the possibility did occur to her it was casually dismissed. She was doing no harm, walking by this lovely meandering stream, its banks gay with wild flowers which, at some not-too-far-off date, would be of extreme interest to Bart. They would come under the heading of Flora in his new book.

'Hello, there!' a deep masculine voice had hailed. 'Who are you and what are you doing, trespassing on my land?'

His very intonation caused her hackles to rise. Arrogant, pompous man, whoever he was! Kim s had spun round and answered, with a sort of challenging defiance,

'I'm not supposed to know whose land it is. But as there's no question of my doing any harm I don't see that it matters, anyway. I'm merely walking along the bank of the stream.'

An amazed silence had followed, during which Kim, undaunted by the man's glowering expression, took a critical look at him—from his crisp, mid-brown hair to his high forehead and dark uncurving

eyebrows. His nose was straight, his mouth enigmatic yet a little sensuous above a jutting, arrogant chin. His body, lithe as an athlete's, portrayed six feet odd of unsuspected strength. Kim guessed his age at around thirty, although he looked somewhat older, his skin being burnt to the deep glossy colour of an antique bronze, result of an outdoor life under the merciless African sun, which had also caused little lines to fan out at the corners of his eyes. Too often having to narrow them, she thought, deciding there and then to make more use of her sun-glasses. She raised her head again, to stare into those iron- hard eyes which were still glinting dangerously. In spite of his scowling expression she found herself grudgingly admitting to his lean and very masculine good looks.

'Who are you?' The inquiry had been spoken softly, very softly, and in spite of herself Kim owned to some twinge of discomfiture.

'I live at Katania Lodge. I work for the author who has come to stay there for a while.'

'Rented it from the Joynsons ...' He was speaking to himself and Kim had the impression that he was wishing that his neighbours had not decided to spend a year in England, renting their property to a man who—he had heard—would be prowling about all over the place, magnifying glass in hand, peering through it to see what a certain bug or beetle was doing, or examining the parts of a flower. Kim could easily imagine this man regarding such work as trifling—this even before she learned that his own work was concerned with big things, namely, trees—massive trees which he grew to sell.

'Well, miss,' he had gone on to say after his reflections had come to an end, 'I don't want to find you on my land again.' The grey eyes narrowed and the sensuous mouth was compressed. 'If I do happen to find you trespassing again I shall make it my business to have a word with your employer, so watch your step!' He gestured with his hand

in so arrogant a way that a flood of angry colour mounted Kim's cheeks. 'Off you go—at once!'

Seething, but sensible of the fact that she was in the wrong and he in the right, Kim had wheeled around so swiftly—her momentum born of fury— that she had missed her footing and fallen, face downwards, into the stream. The man, hands on hips, had stood there laughing, making no attempt to help her to her feet.

'You -!' The towering rage she was in prevented speech and she began scraping the mud off her dress with the backs of her hands.

'Pity you didn't go into the deeper part -' He swung an indicative hand. 'Over there. You'd have known what a real ducking was. They used to give women a ducking at one time—in your country, that is. Pity the chastisement's died out; it would prove most effective for females like you who don't know their place.' And before Kim could find anything to say to this, he had turned his back on her and was striding away, his long legs carrying him with unbelievable speed.

An impatient clearing of his throat by her employer brought Kim from her reverie. Rock was sitting back in his chair, regarding her with an expression of amusement. It was he who answered Bart's question, saying with a hint of malice,

'The start of our acquaintanceship could hardly be described as auspicious, Bart. Miss Mason gave me some cheek and was punished by falling in the stream. I must admit that the ducking did her good; she's never trespassed on my land again—not to my knowledge, that is,' he added with another glance in her direction.

She turned her head away, recalling something she had overheard at the Chameleon Club, which she and Bart had joined soon after their arrival in South Africa. Kim had been in the gardens, taking the air. It was dark and unwittingly she had found herself listening to part of a

conversation between two of the young ladies who frequented the club.

'Rock Linton's rudeness is quite appalling! I could have hit him just now when he said, in that maddeningly sarcastic voice of his, that women should keep to their own territory, which was at the back of the house 1'

'Meaning the kitchen, of course.' The speaker seemed to give a soulful sigh in spite of the fact that she had sounded angry and indignant. 'It's such a pity he's like that. You must admit he's devastatingly handsome—and masterful with it! The ideal husband -'

'Rot! I for one don't want to be mastered!'

'You've been running after Rock for years, Susan!'

'Don't tell fibs, Linda!'

'Well, I don't care what you say, he'd make a terrific husband if only he were less arrogant and derogatory where women are concerned.'

'He's a confirmed bachelor. He once told me that the woman wasn't breathing would could induce him—either by stratagem or bait—to give up his freedom.'

There was a crack of laughter from the other girl.

'Stratagem or bait, eh? How like Rock Linton to come out with an expression like that! How I'd love to see the day dawn when he has to eat those words!'

Kim, having got to know Rock fairly well since that night because—contrary to her expectations— a friendship had developed between him and Bart, had herself echoed that sentiment on more than one occasion. To see him fall for a woman would afford her endless

satisfaction. How she would taunt him! And he wouldn't have any comeback; he would have to take all she. gave, without recourse to any of his usual sword-sharp counterthrusts.

She shot him a glance now, from where she was sitting on a low-backed, chintz-covered sofa. He was reclining comfortably, his long legs stretched out before him. To her critical eye there was a sort of arrogant complacency about him which frayed the edges of her temper. Smug behind his safety-screen of bachelordom, he seemed to derive enormous satisfaction from flaunting his impregnability. Yes, she thought spitefully, she would dearly love to see his defences collapse before the attack of some feminine invader!

His eyes were on her, hard eyes filled with mockery. She drew a breath and transferred her attention to Bart, who appeared to be silently digesting what Rock had said about the inauspicious start to their acquaintanceship. He frowned suddenly and clicked his tongue impatiently.

'It's a shame,' he murmured. 'Yes, a shame ...'

'About our being enemies, Bart?' Kim just could not help coming out with that; she Was interested to see what effect it would have on this pompous 'woman-avoider'.

'That,' he said with the trace of a smile, 'is a little strong, Miss Mason. I believe the word "antagonists" would be rather more appropriate.' He was mocking her, subtly and infuriatingly, and she found herself wrestling with her temper.

'There's no difference, Mr Linton,' she argued tartly.

'A fine one,' he said, nodding thoughtfully. 'Enemies and antagonists need not be the same.'

Kim retreated before this very definite statement, to find extreme satisfaction in the cloud-darkened sky, for the whole prospect outside was sombre, the landscape shadowed in gloom.

'We're in for a storm,' she prophesied, slanting a glance at Rock from under her long, curling eyelashes.

'Telling me to leave, eh?'

At this Bart emerged from the meditative state into which he had fallen.

'Rock, what a thing to say! Kim would never dream of being so inhospitable!'

'No?' Rock's straight brows lifted a fraction. The hard eyes beneath them narrowed enigmatically. 'It's plain that you don't know your secretary very well, Bart, in spite of her having been with you for over eight years.' And as she watched his sudden change of expression, Kim could have sworn that he had added silently, 'Eight years! My God—how have you put up with her for all that time!'

He left within a few minutes. Kim, watching the massing of the rain-filled clouds, prayed for the deluge that would drench the insufferable Rock Linton to the skin!

The next time she came into contact with him was at the club dance the following Saturday evening. Dressed in an exquisite gown of finely-pleated tulle in pastel blue darkening gradually to a much deeper shade at the wide flowing hemline, Kim entered the lobby to find herself looking up into the bronzed and mocking face of the man she had come to detest more than any other person she had ever known. He looked superb, she was grudgingly forced to own, with

that tawny skin contrasting with the snow- white collar of his shirt. The cuffs, too, looked brilliantly white against the deeply-tanned skin of his hands. The mid-brown hair gleamed; the evening clothes he had on looked as if they were being worn for the very first time.

'Good evening, Miss Mason.' His greeting was characteristic—cool and impersonal; his eyes had a faintly bored look in them which matched the raising of a hand to stifle a yawn. 'Is Bart not with you?'

'Yes, of course he is. I'd scarcely come here on my own, Mr Linton.' Kim automatically slipped her blue velvet cloak from her shoulders and tossed it over her arm. Rock's eyes took in the action in a negligent kind of way as he said,

'There's no reason why you shouldn't come here alone. You know enough young men to be sure you'll not be a wallflower. In fact, unless I'm very much mistaken Val Hudson's hovering around, waiting to swoop the moment I retire.' The mockery was very much in evidence as he added, 'Poor misguided sap that he is.'

Gritting her teeth, Kim flashed him a furious glance and said in quivering tones,

'Do you have to be so downright rude? What kind of perverted pleasure do you derive from making yourself so thoroughly objectionable?' To her chagrin he gave a brief laugh.

'I like to see women revealing their inferiority,' was his cryptic rejoinder, at which Kim frowned up into his dark face and, diverted for the moment, she asked what he meant by that statement. Rock replied by informing her that she had just revealed her inferiority by going off into a raging temper.

'I am not in a raging temper!' she denied almost before he had finished speaking.

'Then heaven forbid that I ever see you in one, Miss Mason.'

Kim breathed deeply, aware of other people around, people who would obviously be entertained if she were to draw attention to herself by raising her voice. Rock, with his swift perception, read her thoughts and another light laugh escaped him. She glared at him and quivered, adopting an air of dignity,

'I'll not stay here to be insulted!'

Rock raised a quizzical eyebrow.

'Surely you can retaliate,' he said in some amusement. 'I can't imagine your retreating without making some endeavour to have the last word.'

Was he playing with her? she wondered frowningly. If so, then what was his reason? For he must have a reason; Rock Linton was not the man to do anything without having a logical basis for it.

'If you really want me to retaliate,' she said after a pause, 'then here it comes! You're insufferable; you're imbued with a fanatical prejudice against my sex and a thoroughly mistaken idea of the importance of your own. Does it never register in that warped brain of yours that if it hadn't been for a woman you wouldn't be here at all?'

To her disgust he received this with unimpaired calm, riling her more than ever by his nonchalance and air of superiority.

'You use strong adjectives, Miss Mason; I've noticed it before. I sincerely hope that Bart will never be so misguided as to allow you a free hand with his manuscripts.'

Pale with anger, but with a supreme effort of will managing to retain her dignity, Kim threw him a disparaging glance and, without another word, swung away with the air of a princess and made for the

powder-room, where she left her cloak and then came out to meet Val. His attention and the undisguised flattery in his eyes were like balm to her frayed nerves and temper, restoring her balance, and her good humour.

She promptly forgot about Rock Linton and gave all her attention to Val, to whom she had been introduced soon after her arrival, and whose likeness to her fiancé was more than a little remarkable, since he had the same height and physique, the same merry blue eyes and fair hair, the same wide and generous mouth. And when, after several meetings with Val, she had found herself becoming attracted to him, Kim had asked herself the inevitable question: did Val's attraction lie solely in the fact of his being so similar in appearance to her fiancé? It was a question she was able to ask dispassionately, all pain having gone a long time ago.

But it was a question she could not answer, and suddenly it did not seem to matter; she and Val got along fine together, having much in common and, therefore, never finding themselves at a loss for interesting and intelligent conversation. Val worked on his parents' farm, but had told Kim that he would rather be employed in something more intellectual. He thought he might be able to write a book, but he had no idea what kind. Bart had invited him up to Katania Lodge, but Kim did not know what they had talked about, as she had busied herself in the garden, leaving the two men alone.

'You look smashing!' Val's enthusiastic voice broke into Kim's reverie and she gave him a swift smile.

'Thank you, Val,' she said, allowing him to take her arm and lead her to the bar, where they were soon joined by Bart who insisted on buying the drinks. Later on Kim and Val danced, then sat at a corner table for their buffet supper. Rock, she noticed, exhibited excellent manners, making sure he danced with the older women as well as the younger ones. And just when she was telling herself—thankfully—

that he had no intention of asking her to dance, he crossed the floor with long and easy strides and a moment later she was in his arms, being expertly guided out of the way of others on the floor.

She had nothing to say, was her frigid answer to his comment that she was very quiet.

'Unusual,' he murmured in that rich but quiet voice of his. 'Still in the grip of that deplorable temper of yours?'

Kim ignored this, occupying herself with following his steps which were rather intricate at times. She had the impression that he was hoping he would lose her and that she would make a fool of herself in consequence. She had no intention of anything like that happening. Always having been told that she danced well, she was naturally confident of her ability to follow him without missing a step. The music stopped eventually and everyone remained on the floor, waiting for it to strike up again. Rock, directing a searching look at her, saw the satisfaction in her wide blue eyes and a gleam of humour shone in his own.

'I assure you, Miss Mason,' he said perceptively, 'that I was not trying in any way to confuse you just now. Bart had told me of your ability on the dance floor, so I felt at liberty to use some rather unusual steps. I enjoyed our dance immensely.'

At the last sentence Kim jerked up her head, amazement registering where cold hauteur had been mingling with the satisfaction noticed by Rock, and which was the cause of his comments. She said pertly,

'A compliment from you is so unexpected that I find it difficult to produce the appropriate response.'

He laughed outright. Susan, standing not far away with her partner, the young and good-looking Roger Van der Walte, turned her auburn

head and looked at him. Kim remembered that Susan's friend had said she had been running after Rock for years. Certainly there was an odd expression on Susan's face at this moment, as if she were brooding a little inside.

'How stiff, Miss Mason,' Rock was saying, to all appearances oblivious of the interest which Susan was betraying. 'However, a response was not necessary; it never is where praise is involved.'

'Did you not find it contrary to your natural inclination—to praise my dancing, I mean?' Kim spoke as Rock took hold of her again and swung her into the waltz.

'I believe I have never withheld praise if I thought it was due.'

'Most commendable.' Her sarcasm came through without effort. It left him cold but faintly amused.

'Of course, if I really wanted to, I could put you out of step.'

'Only by cheating!'

He made no answer as he steered her towards the verandah. To her surprise she found herself outside, the cool night breeze welcome on her hot face.

'It was stuffy in there,' he said, drawing up a chair and flicking a casual finger towards it. Kim sat down, puzzled by his manner. He took possession of the chair opposite to her and in the shaded light from above she noticed that he was in a reflective mood. Was he thinking about trees, she wondered, and of the money he would make when eventually they were sold? What did he do with his money? There was little he could spend it on here. His house was beautiful—at least, from the outside. Kim had never been inside, although Bart had, and he had proclaimed it to be the ultimate in luxury and good

taste. It was a low Colonial-style house with the Dutch influence Kim had noticed in other areas, while she and Bart were being driven from the airport, through endless miles of bush and thorny scrub where farmhouses were scattered with great tracts of land between them. The gardens were breathtaking in their colour, their plan and their maturity. Rock's timberlands lay on three sides, with pastures occupying the side skirting the road. On a low tract of hillside a flock of merino sheep grazed, while the cattle occupied the meadows by the side of the stream.

Kim turned her head to look at the man whose home had been occupying her thoughts. He rose at that moment, to stare at something that had moved in the garden. His tall frame was impressive, with a sort of whipcord hardness about it that belied the suppleness with which he walked. Kim, aware that she seemed always to be grudgingly admitting to the superlative qualities of the man, had to smile, and it happened to be at this very moment that Rock turned and flicked a glance at her face.

'Something amusing you, Miss Mason?' Casually he sat down again, hitching up a trouser leg before crossing one leg over the other. Kim wondered what he would have to say were she to tell him the truth. The man was swelled-headed enough without her adding something that would inflate his ego even more.

'Just a thought that crossed my mind,' she answered, her eyes seeking the sky, star-spangled above the silent, lonely veld. Her sensitive nostrils caught the perfume of honeysuckle that hung on the air and her ears the chirping of cicadas in the mango trees bordering the club grounds. She gave an involuntary sigh of contentment and leaned back in her chair. Strange that she should be feeling as tranquil as this with the detestable Rock Linton sitting there opposite her. His company was the very last she would have chosen. But the night was so beautiful, the air so fresh and cool, that the man sitting there did not matter, his presence scarcely being felt.

Her mind switched to Val, and the immediate result was a warm and pleasant feeling rising within her. She found herself looking at Rock, and wishing it were Val who was here with her, Val who looked like Richard ...

Suddenly the years of healing were swept away as if they had never been and she was passing through that agony again. The knock on the door ... the policeman asking if she were Miss Kim Mason ... her heart seeming to be wrenched from its moorings because of the expression on the policeman's face... and the sure knowledge that he hated being the one chosen to come to this house -

'What on earth are you thinking of!' Rock spoke with the kind of swift impulse she would never have connected with him at all, so cool and unruffled was his usual demeanour. 'You look desolate!'

She shook herself and the picture vanished.

'Take no notice,' she said, producing a smile. 'It was nothing.' She would have spoken to Bart like this, but never would she had believed she would speak to Rock with such lack of restraint. 'Just something very dreadful, Mr Linton, but I'm all right now. One's—memories return sometimes She allowed her voice to drift to silence and shook her head. She would be far more at ease sparring with Rock than confiding in him.

'The memories must have been pretty grim,' he commented, unaware that she wanted the matter to be dropped. 'You're young to have memories that hurt in the way yours obviously do.'

'Not so young as you might imagine, Mr Linton.'

He said, as she half expected he would,

'How old are you, Miss Mason?'

'Twenty-six,' she answered, and he nodded absently.

'I thought you must be at least that.'

'You're not very flattering -' Kim stopped, but too late. What on earth had made her come out with a thing like that! Rock, amused, seemed to be waiting for her to continue, but she was silent, holding her breath.

'It would have been trite of me to say you looked no more than twenty-one, when I know that you've been with Bart for eight years,' he pointed out at length.

Kim nodded, embarrassed.

'Of course it would, Mr Linton.'

He looked at her, his gaze intense. She rose from her chair, saying it was time they went back inside, and Rock also rose, but stood by his chair, one slender hand idly resting on the back of it. Kim turned from the rail, but could still see the moon sailing across the vast vault of the sky, and the billions of stars that streaked through the heavens—the Milky Way. Rock saw none of this, for he was looking at Kim, standing there, the moon's argent lustre painting her hair. He saw a slim wand of a girl with ivory skin and enormous eyes, thickly-fringed beneath delicately-arched brows. He saw the tender curves of her breast, accentuated by the perfectly-fitting bodice of her dress.

Suddenly, startlingly, his voice was curt.

'You're quite right, Miss Mason,' he said, 'it's time we were going back inside.'

CHAPTER TWO

KIM was talking to Susan, who had been interestedly asking about her job.

'I'd love to do the work you're doing,' she had said. 'Anything to do with Nature fascinates me.'

'And me,' returned Kim. 'I was most fortunate in being offered the job with Bart—Mr Nash.'

'You must have travelled a great deal?'

Kim nodded. She and Susan were seated at a small table on the edge of the dance floor, watching the couple who were giving an exhibition. Kim, having become separated from Val when everyone made a rush for the seats, found herself sitting with Susan, and the two began to chat.

'I have travelled a great deal,' Kim said, her eyes on the tall graceful girl who was being whirled round and round by her partner. 'We're going to South America next.'

'Marvellous!' Susan's eyes also wandered to the two on the floor, and then another figure became focused in her vision and she said involuntarily,

'What do you think of Rock Linton—now that you've had time to get to know him? He's friendly with Mr Nash, I believe?'

Kim said yes, he was a friend of her employer, but after that she became guarded.

'I haven't really got to know Rock,' she said expressionlessly. 'When he calls at Katania Lodge he usually chats with Mr Nash and I make myself scarce in the office, or perhaps the garden.'

Susan nodded abstractedly. Following the direction of her gaze Kim saw Rock in conversation with Bart and Mr Kilber—Rendall Kilber, who had recently bought the farm about half a mile from where Val lived.

'He's a strange man ...' Susan's voice brought Kim's attention back to her. 'A confirmed bachelor ... and yet...' Again Susan's voice trailed off.

'You sound as if you don't set much store by his firm decision not to marry?' Kim could not have said just why she spoke in this way; she only knew that if Susan had anything interesting to say about Rock Linton she, Kim, wanted to hear it.

'It's not natural for a man not to marry, is it?'

'Well—er—no, I suppose not.'

'He seems to value his freedom above all things. There are times when I think that if he had to choose between losing his estate and losing his freedom, he'd let the estate go.'

Kim was shaking her head.

'He'd be a fool -' She stopped, aware of the absurdity of this trend of conversation.

'I'm sure that if the day ever comes when he finds himself falling for someone he'll fight tooth and nail to resist her,' said Susan with a grimace.

Kim had to laugh, more than anything because of the seriousness of Susan's expression.

'Well, it seems he hasn't had to fight yet.'

'No. Not to my knowledge anyway. There's never been a girl who has appealed to him in that way, even temporarily.' Susan paused as if offering Kim the opportunity of making some comment, but Kim was watching the demonstration with renewed interest.

'It would be most entertaining if some girl did appeal to Rock, and we could all watch the fight he put up.' Kim spoke after a long silence. She was enjoying the marvellous performance, but knew that for the sake of good manners she must continue the conversation with Susan. 'I wonder what form the fight would take?' Kim added musingly.

'He'd probably treat the girl abominably—using that cutting tongue of his and subjecting her to all sorts of insults. That mockery would probably come into play as well, and that air of bored indifference.'

'If that were so he'd deserve to lose the girl.'

'That would be his aim.'

'Yes—but if he were in love with her -?' Kim frowned in thought. 'I suppose my mind was leaping ahead, and I was seeing him defeated in the end and begging the girl to marry him—this after he had given her such a dislike of him that she'd not marry him at any price.'

'Did you mention the word "begging"?' inquired Susan with a lift of her eyebrows. 'Can you see the arrogant Rock Linton begging—especially to a woman? Lord, he'd throw himself off the edge of a cliff first!'

An exaggeration, thought Kim, but at the same time admitting that the picture of Rock pleading with a woman was too remote to bring into focus.

'I don't suppose he'll ever be in the position where he needs to beg a woman to marry him,' Susan was murmuring almost to herself. 'He wouldn't allow his emotions to carry him even to the stage of being attracted to anyone. The warning light would have come on early in the relationship and he'd not waste a second in observing it.' Susan fell silent and Kim looked at her across the small table where they were sitting. She thought, not without some amusement, that Susan was conjuring up a situation that could never materialise anyway, but she listened with polite interest when presently the girl added, again speaking mainly to herself, 'In any case, he'd never need to beg. Any woman, given the chance, would fall over herself to become his wife.'

'I for one would certainly not fall over myself to become his wife!' rejoined Kim at once.

'You wouldn't?' Susan examined her, from her shining head to the curve of her waist. 'Personally, I think he's inordinately attractive—but I agree with you, he's not the kind of man to go putting one's head in a noose for.'

'He'd be too domineering,' declared Kim, unconsciously uttering Susan's own sentiments. It was only after the words were out that Kim recalled Susan having said that she for one did not want to be mastered.

'You can say that again! He'd have his poor bride right under his thumb before he'd been married an hour!'

Another gross exaggeration, decided Kim amusedly. Yet she would not envy any woman who was fool enough to take a chance with the man. Handsome he certainly was, and without doubt it would be rather exciting to have him for an escort, as every female head would be turned, and eyes would be green with envy of the woman he was with. But there the relationship would have to end—for any wise and

perceptive woman, that was. But one never knew: there might be some woman, somewhere, who would be unguarded enough to put her head in the noose, as Susan had so unromantically put it.

The following day Kim was riding Sammy, over the fields of Katania Lodge towards the lonely path that ran through the bush and eventually to a native village. To the right rose the mountains, and lower down, the terracotta hills. The meandering course of the stream curling away in the distance could be seen, made apparent by the growth of trees along both its banks. Overhead the sun blazed forth mercilessly, but Kim was becoming used to the heat and it did not trouble her much these days. She had risen early, motivated as always by the desire to witness the sunrise, an incredibly lovely sight with a crimson fan spreading from the horizon, heralding the ascent of the great golden sphere with its staggering array of offshooting tongues of colour—yellow, crimson, amber, green and purple. The rise was rapid and within minutes the sky was flaring above the drab, ochre-shaded bushveld. Kim had then settled down to work, taking advantage of the cooler hours of the morning. At eleven o'clock she was free to take her ride, which usually lasted an hour.

She glanced at her watch. A quarter to twelve. Lunch was at half past twelve. She turned and cantered back, her eyes narrowed even though she was wearing dark glasses. She was almost at the homestead when she saw Rock. He was standing watching his boys as they felled a huge mahogany tree, his lithe body clad in a checked shirt and dark blue slacks. A man of the outdoors, tall and sinewed and outstanding among his sex. Perhaps it was no wonder that he possessed that air of superiority. Perhaps he felt that no woman was good enough for him. Kim had to smile at her mind-wanderings. So much taken for granted. His private thoughts were his alone and no one should be so presumptuous as to make a guess at them.

He saw her and lifted an indifferent hand. She merely nodded and rode on, into the drive of Katania Lodge. Bart was on the stoep, a note-pad on his knee. His smile flashed swiftly as Kim, having put Sammy in the paddock, came running up the steps, her face flushed from her ride, her hair falling caressingly about her shoulders. She removed her glasses and put them on the table.

'It was wonderful!' she exclaimed, anticipating his question. 'Thank you, dear Bart, for buying Sammy for me 1'

'I was only too happy to do so, Kim.'

'Have you some notes ready for me to type out after lunch?'

'Just a few. It's becoming a struggle,' he added with a sudden frown.

'What—the writing itself or the research?'

'Both.' He gave her a wry look. 'Maybe I'm ready to retire. I've had a good innings.'

'Retire?' She wondered if her dismay was revealed in her voice. 'You haven't mentioned anything about it before?'

He shook his head.

'I hadn't thought about it before. But today, sitting here struggling with my notes, trying to find the right words -' He gave a small shrug and added in a tired voice, 'I always said that when it became hard work I'd give it up.'

'And it has become hard work?'

'Very hard work, Kim.'

She frowned and shook her head mechanically.

'It's just an off-day,' she assured him. 'It will be different tomorrow.'

'Not as soon as that, my dear.'

'How about taking a rest? We could go to the seaside.'

Bart shook his head.

'I'll take a rest, Kim, but here, at home.'

Kim was troubled. For as long as she had known him Bart had been enthusiastic about his work. She felt that there must be something wrong with his health for him to have become so indifferent as to contemplate retiring. But although she asked him if he was unwell she received no satisfactory answer. He was all right, he said, but somehow Kim had her suspicions that he was not telling her the truth. She wished she had someone to whom she could go, just to talk about Bart. He was all she had, the only person for whom she had any affection; she was all Bart had, too, except for his housekeeper who looked after his home for him in England.

Rock called that afternoon, to bring Bart some magazines which he had promised to lend him. They were mainly concerned with the wild life of Africa, but contained articles on some rare plants of which Bart knew very little.

Kim, ready for Rock's customary cool greeting, was rather taken aback when, instead of that sardonic curve of his lips, she received a broad smile from Rock as soon as he entered the living-room, where he had been shown in by Bart.

'Hello, Miss Mason. Did you have a good ride this morning?'

'Very good, thank you, Mr Linton.'

Bart's heavy brows contracted in a frown of impatience.

'Everyone else around here uses christian names,' he said, glancing from Kim to Rock, who was standing by the door, waiting for Kim to sit down before he did. 'I believe I've said so before.'

Rock's mouth curved in amusement. To Kim's astonishment he said,

'As Bart seems to be brooding over this, perhaps we should do as he wishes?'

She stared, her colour fluctuating.

'If—if that's what you want, Mr Linton!'

The grey eyes laughed at her.

'It's what Bart wants, Miss Mason.'

Bart clicked his tongue exasperatedly.

'For pity's sake, will you stop being so damned stupid! Kim, what's wrong with you, fidgeting and blushing as though you were embarrassed -'

'She is embarrassed,' broke in Rock suavely. 'You mark my words, it'll take her weeks to get my name off her tongue without colouring up, and drooping those eyelashes——'

'Don't be absurd!' she flashed, and then, looking directly at him, she almost shouted, 'Rock! There, did I blush and make play with my eyelashes!'

'No, Kim, you merely lost that unpredictable temper of yours—as usual.'

'Well,' interposed Bart testily, 'we've got that over and done with! And now perhaps you'll also stop all this bickering! You're worse

than a couple of children!' He glared at Rock as he spoke. 'There was no need for you to make that stab about Kim's temper, was there?'

'No need at all,' was Rock's surprising reply. His eyes were all-examining as he stared at Bart, and then his glance was directed towards Kim. He seemed to be frowning inwardly, as if at some revelation that had just come to him. And it was he who broached the subject which was nearest to Kim's heart, but he did this later, when Bart had excused himself and left the room.

'Have you had any indication recently that Bart is not quite himself?' The question, though tactfully put, caused Kim's nerves to become tense.

'You feel he might be ill?' she faltered, aware of the colour leaving her face.

There was a sombre frown in Rock's eyes. Kim saw that he was deeply affected by these questions they were asking one another. He had come to have a deep and sincere regard for Bart, despite the great difference in their ages. Kim knew that Rock enjoyed his chats with Bart enormously. They were equals intellectually; they had a common concern about the danger to the wild animals of Africa, deploring the fact that already one or two were extinct. Yes, mused Kim, Rock and Bart had become very good friends indeed and she could understand Rock's anxiety about Bart's health.

'I do feel that he might be ill,' replied Rock tautly at last. 'I'm going to suggest he sees a doctor.'

'Thank you.' The relief in Kim's voice could not possibly escape him. He said, the frown reappearing between his eyes.

'You've been worried about him?'

'It was only today,' she explained. 'He was talking of retiring.'

To her surprise Rock took this piece of news as if he had expected it, for he was nodding, and when he spoke it was to say that Bart appeared to be very tired.

'He said his work was becoming difficult,' Kim told him. ,

'He did mention to me the other day that he was slower than usual.'

'He's willing to take a rest, but he won't go away. I'd have preferred him to do so ...' Her voice trailed off as Rock shook his head.

'He'll be better at home, Kim.' Rock looked up as Bart returned to the living-room. 'Kim and I have been talking about you,' said Rock lightly. 'I'm going to ask you to see a doctor.'

'What for?' frowned Bart. 'I'm only tired.'

'There's a reason for tiredness,' returned Rock quietly. 'Especially in a man of your energy and stamina.'

'What are you suggesting, Rock?'

'That you see the doctor.'

'I didn't mean that. I meant—what are you thinking?' Bart looked at Kim and she had the impression that he was regretting what he had said. His next words confirmed the impression. 'There's nothing seriously the matter with me, Rock. One can become fatigued with working too hard and that's what has happened to me. I've promised Kim I'll rest and I shall do just that—for a couple of weeks at least.'

No more was said, but Rock's significant glance at Kim as he was leaving was a firm reassurance that he would have the doctor call at Katania Lodge as soon as was possible.

The following morning Bart asked Kim to go into Tengaville and collect some books which he hoped would have been received at the library there.

'I ordered them a couple of weeks ago, so they should have arrived by now,' he said.

'Are you wanting me to come back with them right away, Bart?'

He shook his head, throwing her a glance of inquiry.

'No; did you want to do something for yourself?'

'I'd like to have my hair cut—restyled. It's getting a bit too long for this kind of climate.'

'Then have your hair done by all means, Kim dear. I'll expect you when I see you.'

'I mightn't be able to get it done without an appointment, but I'll try.'

She went off in Bart's car, driving the seven miles to Tengaville and parking in the grounds of the club. The books had not arrived, but the librarian said she was expecting a delivery of books on Thursday. Kim thanked her and said she would probably call in for them during the afternoon. From there she proceeded to the hairdressers and was told she could have her hair done in three-quarters of an hour's time.

She took a stroll along the main street, looking at the goods displayed in the windows. Many Africans were about, the piccanins were playing in the dusty roadway. The heat was lethal, but they seemed not to notice. Kim, attired in a short cotton skirt which revealed the glorious tan of her legs, and a sleeveless top, low-cut both back and front, began to feel hot and sticky and, with plenty of time to spare, she went into a tea-room and ordered a cool drink of lemonade. Through the window she looked on to a clump of coconut palms,

their long spiky foliage waving gently against the brittle blue of the African sky.

The waitress arrived, but the words which sprang to Kim's lips were stemmed by the sudden appearance of the man who, only a short while ago, would have been the last person she wanted to see. With his familiar nonchalance he approached her table, asking if he could join her. She managed a smile as she said,

'Yes, of course, Mr -' She stopped, seeing the familiar mocking amusement enter his eyes. 'Rock,' she said in clear precise accents.

'How is Bart?' he asked at once.

'He's all right, but still looks tired.'

Rock nodded.

'The doctor will be calling tomorrow morning. I tried to get him to see Bart today, but he isn't at home. I've left a message with his wife, who assures me he'll make Katania Lodge his first call in the morning.'

'Bart doesn't know the doctor's coming to see him.'

'He will. I'll invite myself to a sundowner this evening, so that I can warn Bart of the doctor's visit.'

'It's kind of you to bother,' she said, and then, suddenly becoming aware that the waitress was still standing by, Kim ordered her lemonade.

'The same for me,' said Rock. He relaxed in his chair, teetering back and regarding Kim critically from this extended distance. Her blue eyes challenged—although she could not have said why. It was probably that she was conscious that animosity could not die simply

because they had one thing in common: Bart's welfare. No, she and Rock would never reach a point that was anywhere near to friendship. Rock's eyes took in the challenge, and became lazy. So he had nothing to say, she thought. Strange ... very strange indeed.

Her reflections wandered; she was Recalling Susan's words.

'I'm sure that if the day ever dawns when he finds himself falling for someone he'll fight tooth and nail to resist her.'

Why this should come to her Kim could not for the life of her understand, unless it was that, yet again, she was noting his good looks and admitting that it was a miracle he had never been in danger of losing his bachelor state.

He was speaking, asking how she came to be in town.

'Bart asked me to collect some books from the library,' she answered, her voice low and unconsciously much more affable than was usual. He smiled sardonically and said,

'We're very restrained today. How long will it last, I wonder?'

'Not long if you're going to be sarcastic,' she replied, the words escaping before she had time to control them.

Rock lifted an eyebrow admonishingly.

'You invite more than mere sarcasm,' he warned, but pleasantly.

'I do?' Again her blue eyes challenged.

'What a perverse female you are! In addition you're rude, unladylike and peevish.'

'Is that all?' inquired Kim with admirable control.

'Perhaps,' he mused with a hint of humour, 'I should have included the word "shrewish".'

The lemonade arrived; Kim waited until the waitress had gone before she said, still maintaining her control despite her rising temper,

'I can only put down your unmannerly attitude to the fact that you've had little or no experience of how to go on in a lady's company.'

'A lady's company, Kim?'

She coloured, her glance darting to his hair, crisp and shining under the slanting rays of the sun through the open window. She would dearly have loved to reach over and leave him with a big bald patch! Instead, she resorted to her tongue, as usual.

'I'm sorry to say this, but -'

'I don't expect you're sorry at all,' he broke in with a laugh which, to her ears, was discordant in spite of its humour. 'However, carry on. I'm to hear some more strong adjectives, I take it?'

'I find you high-handed and arrogant, Mr Linton! '

'Is that all?' he wanted to know, his lips quivering with amusement as he borrowed her own words. 'And we're back to surnames, I see.'

Ignoring his latter remark, Kim looked at him over the rim of the long glass and said,

'Perhaps I should have thrown in the word "insufferable".'

'One of these days,' prophesied Rock pleasantly, 'someone is going to give you the spanking you deserve.'

Her colour heightened swiftly.

'Tell me,' she queried after fighting down her temper, 'what induced you to share my table?'

'I expect I was misguided enough to assume that you wouldn't start a slanging match with me in public,' was Rock's suave and taunting rejoinder.

Kim said with great dignity,

'I didn't start anything, Mr Linton.'

He shrugged, and took a long, thirst-quenching drink.

'Tell me about Bart's book, this one he's writing now,' he said. 'Let's get on to safer ground.'

Kim was undecided whether or not to answer him, her immediate desire being to finish her drink and leave the tea-room. However, she did have to keep in mind that Rock was Bart's friend—although she admitted ruefully that it was a little late to remember that now.

'It's not a travel book,' she said.

'I know that much. He's writing something more technical.'

Kim nodded her head.

'About the insects, and the wild flowers.'

'Bart's a very clever man.'

'He's studied biology in great depth.'

'That's obvious. How long will he take to finish the book—if he does decide to finish it, that is?'

Kim shot him a glance. There was an indefinable element in Rock's inquiry ... as if he were considering the date of their departure to be of some importance to him. Was he already regretting the loss of the friendship which had developed between him and Bart? Most certainly he would feel no regret at her departure!

'I'm sure he'll finish it,' she said. 'As for the time it will take—well, it's not easy to calculate. We've rented Katania Lodge for a year, as you know, but Bart will soon find another house to rent if it becomes necessary.'

Rock lifted an eyebrow.

'Houses are not so easily available around here, Kim.'

'The Robertsons' bungalow ... it'll be vacant in about eight months' time. They're going to see their relations in Australia.'

Rock was nodding as she spoke.

'I'd forgotten about the bungalow.' He leant forward to pick up his glass from the table. 'I suppose,' he added thoughtfully after a while, 'that the final typing of the book could be done at home, in England?'

'Yes, of course, but Bart always says it's nicer to stay in the sun and do it.'

'You're always in exotic places when you write books?'

'Mostly we are. We were in Fiji one year. It was wonderful.'

'Hmm ... Very nice. You're a lucky young woman.' Rock drained his glass and held it in his hand, staring at it, his mind elsewhere. She thought she knew what he was thinking and after a pause she said,

'If Bart retires I shall have to find another job, of course.'

'Let's hope he doesn't retire for a long time yet.' Gone was the pleasantness of his voice. It was curt now, reminding her of its curtness on Saturday night when, after their chat on the verandah, his manner had undergone a dramatic change and he had said that it was time they returned to the ballroom. Kim looked at him in a puzzled way. Why should he hope that Bart would not retire? It could make no difference to Rock. Nor would it make any difference to him if she found herself out of a job. His eyes met hers; they seemed to be darkly frowning—the reflection of some unpleasant thought, no doubt.

'I must be going,' she told him. 'I've a hair appointment.'

Rock's eyes flickered to the shining crown of her hair.

'A shampoo and set, I suppose?' he said, surprising her by his interest.

'That, yes, but I'm having some cut off as well.' Kim automatically put a hand to a few strands and closed her fingers, scissorwise. 'It's far too long as it is.'

Rock was frowning.

'I don't think it's too long. It suits you very well. It's most attractive, in fact.'

Kim stared, wondering if she had heard aright. For there certainly seemed to be an imperiousness in his tone, and a light in his eye to match it. It was almost as if he were forbidding her to have her hair cut!

'Thank you for saying so,' she said in coolly polite tones, 'but it'll have to come off—plenty of it.'

'You're having it short, then?'

'Very short,' she told him, with a glance at her watch, she rose from her chair, bade him a brief 'good afternoon', and hurried away to keep the appointment.

A short while later she was amazed to be hearing herself say, in answer to the hairdresser's query as to how much hair she wanted cutting off,

'Not much at all. Just a trim and re-styling—and a shampoo and set, of course.'

CHAPTER THREE

BART was looking at some papers he had taken from a file. His face was rather troubled and Kim waited, notebook in hand, for him to continue with his dictation. Presently he shook his head.

'It's very sad,' he murmured, almost to himself. He had begun this talking to himself a couple of weeks ago. He was becoming more eccentric with every day that passed, he admitted, laughing. Kim was worried, and yet she had been assured that there was nothing seriously wrong with his health. .The doctor had prescribed rest and relaxation, Bart had told her after he had been examined by the doctor in the privacy of his bedroom. He worked far too many hours, the doctor had said.

'But all authors do,' Bart had protested. 'You hate to stop when you've all that good stuff running around in your head.'

'You must stop, all the same.' The doctor had turned to Kim, taking her for Bart's daughter. 'Will you see that he keeps to set hours ? Five or six at the most?'

'I'll try,' answered Kim, but doubtfully. She had not worked for Bart for eight years without learning that he could be obstinate if he chose.

The doctor had transferred his gaze to Bart ...

and it did seem at the time that there was a very stern warning in his glance. However, Kim had been reassured by hearing the doctor say, on leaving,

'Don't worry too much. He'll be all right if he takes the advice I've given him.'

Kim had spoken to Rock, noting the impassivity of his expression as she was asking him to help her in her efforts to stop Bart from

working too hard. He would speak to him, Rock had promised, and Kim felt sure that he would be as good as his word.

'What is sad?' she asked when Bart, continuing to stare at the paper he had taken from the file, made no attempt to expand on what he had said.

'I'm just looking at these figures about some of the animals of South Africa. Do you know that the elephants peculiar to the Knysna Forest numbered less than ten in 1963?'

Kim shook her head, frowning.

'Only ten? Are they going to become extinct?'

Bart glanced up from the file.

'Many animals are likely to become extinct, the way they're being edged out of their natural habitats. The Addo elephant herd has no adult bull.'

Kim's eyes shadowed,

'Why do people kill the animals? I've never been able to understand what a man gets from raising a gun and taking a shot at an unsuspecting wild creature.'

'Nor have I. It's the lust to kill, I suppose.'

'Some of the antelope are already extinct, as you know.'

'I was reading about them again the other day.

You'd think man would pull himself up -' Bart shook his head sadly. 'He won't, though. There are too many people who find delight in putting up trophies on the wall.'

Stuffed heads of animals. Kim shuddered. For herself, she could not bear to look at them, thinking that they'd been robbed of life just for the sake of some man's being able to brag about his skill with a gun.

'Man the destroyer,' she murmured, and her eyes actually filled up.

Bart saw that she needed to be brought out of this state of depression and he became brisk, suggesting they get on with the chapter he had decided to do on birds.

'Did you write down what I said about the long- tailed sugarbirds?' he ended.

Kim nodded, and continued to write as Bart resumed his dictation. She then typed out what she had taken down in shorthand. There were about ten pages of the previous chapter to be polished up and re-typed, but Bart came to her study just as she was about to begin this and asked her to go to the library.

'I've ordered another couple of books. They might not have arrived, but I hope they have. Don't rush back unless you want to,' he said with his customary benign smile. 'Do some shopping. Treat yourself to a new dress and some heady perfume.'

Kim returned his smile, allowing her gaze to linger on his face affectionately. He was very transparent; she knew he wanted to treat her to the dress or the perfume he had mentioned, but, aware of her innate independence, he was afraid to make the offer. She wondered, as she had often wondered before, if she were being selfish in adopting this attitude. Bart, she knew, had come to look upon her more as a daughter than an employee. A bachelor with no relatives, he had welcomed Kim into his home, and many were the times when he had said that it was the best day's work he had ever done.

Impulsively she said, feeling that a white lie would not come amiss if it resulted in giving Bart pleasure,

'I'll look around for the dress, but I must wait for the perfume. Christmas is not too far away and I shall have to watch my money.'

'The perfume you like is too expensive for you to buy just at present, you mean?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'Kim dear, let me buy it for you.' It was almost a plea and Kim gave him one of her sunniest smiles.

'Thank you, Bart, I will let you buy it for me.'

His face lit up; the white lie had paid off, with interest.

'I'm going to insist on one thing,' he said. 'When you get this perfume—use it!'

She had to laugh.

'I always feel that perfume is far too expensive to waste.'

'It wouldn't be wasted!'

'It's a luxury one should keep for special occasions, Bart.'

'No such thing. When the bottle's empty we can buy some more.'

He later gave her an open cheque, telling her to get the perfume she liked best, regardless of the price. It was 'Gay', which was very expensive indeed —and in fact Kim had doubted very much if she would be able to purchase it in a town like Tengaville. But to her delight it was there; she bought the smallest bottle they had in stock.

She then looked around for a dress, not knowing whether she wanted an evening gown or something more practical. A lightweight trouser-suit caught her eye and she entered the shop. Susan was there, looking at blouses. She turned, smiling, and greeted Kim affably.

'What kind of a blouse are you looking for?' inquired Kim after hearing that Susan could not find what she wanted.

'Something dressy but cool. It's difficult, as dressy blouses always have long sleeves.'

'Is it for a special occasion?'

Susan shrugged, and returned the blouse she was holding to the assistant.

'My cousin's coming over for a visit and I thought I'd buy a few new clothes, knowing full well that she'll be glamour-clad from the moment she gets up to the time she goes to bed!' Susan laughed as she added this, and picked up another blouse from the rail. 'I've bought a trouser suit'— she broke off and gestured—'like the one in the window. I want a blouse to go with it.'

'The one in the window,' repeated Kim. 'They have two of those, then?'

Susan grimaced.

'Unfortunately, yes. But I liked it and I'm just hoping that the other won't sell to anyone who's likely to be wearing it when I'm wearing mine. Aren't I selfish?' She absently held the blouse against her, then passed it to the assistant who was waiting hopefully—and patiently—for a sale. 'What are you wanting, Kim?' asked Susan presently.

'I hadn't anything special in mind.' Another white lie, thought Kim amusedly. It was becoming a habit! But she knew Susan well enough

by now to suspect that she would offer to leave the suit, if Kim wanted to buy the one in the window, which was her size. 'When is your cousin coming?'

'Next week—Friday.'

'For a long stay?'

'Six weeks, or perhaps a little longer. Depends whether or not she likes it here.'

'She'll not be here for Christmas, then?'

'I don't think she'll stay as long as that.' Susan paused, calculating. 'It's eight weeks to Christmas, isn't it?'

'Just over.'

'Then my cousin won't be here. She said in her letter that six weeks would be about enough but she might stay for another week.' Susan glanced at another blouse; this time it was being offered to her by the assistant. 'My cousin's the liveliest girl I know,' she went on reflectively. 'Gets all the eligible young men, but she's so choosy that she'll probably end up on the shelf.'

'She's very young, then?' Somehow, Kim had gained the impression that the girl was around thirty, at least. Perhaps the impression had come because Susan mentioned glamour.

'Young and beautiful and vivacious. Has just about everything nature can bestow. Wears clothes and jewels with the aplomb of a queen, knows how to flatter the male ego, knows how to use her enormous baby-blue eyes -' Susan broke off, her own eyes filled with laughter. 'I expect you're concluding that I'm jealous of her?'

'Not at all. Your description's interesting. I'll look forward to meeting her. What's her name ?'

'Ravella—an old-fashioned name for an ultramodern girl!'

'She sounds as if she'll take the club by storm.' Absently Kim took a short-sleeved blouse from the rail.

'No doubt of that at all. The men around here are in for the treat of their lives. They don't have a blonde bombshell drop in on them every day.'

Kim became really interested.

'Is she small, tall, plump or -?'

'Medium height and the figure of a model.'

'What does she do for a living?' It occurred to Kim that she was asking far too many questions. However, Susan seemed not to notice. In any case, she appeared to be quite happy with the conversation, enjoying it well enough.

'Doesn't do anything. Her father—my mother's brother—made good at a very early age. Invented something or other which caught on. And so Ravella's never worked.' Susan paused a moment. 'I suppose that's one of the reason's why she's so choosy. She'll need to have someone rich enough to keep her in the mode she's been used to.'

'Is she coming alone?' asked Kim, feeling guilty at passing yet another blouse to the assistant. Not that she herself had passed any at all, but Susan had looked at, and rejected, half a dozen at least.

'Yes, she's coming on her own! My aunt was to have come with her, but Uncle's not been too well lately and so she won't leave him.' Susan was now holding a pink blouse which Kim saw would go well

with the suit. 'I'll try this on,' decided Susan. 'Are you thinking of buying one?'

'I might...' Kim was left alone while the assistant conducted Susan to the little alcove where she could try on the blouse that would go with a pair of white linen slacks she had recently bought.

Ten minutes later the two girls left the shop together, each having bought a blouse. The suit had to be left as the buttons on the coat were, to Susan's critical eye, not quite the right shade to go with the material. The assistant had willingly offered to have some different ones put on.

'I've got to go to the library,' Kim informed her companion. 'Mr Nash has ordered some books. I hope they've arrived.'

'They usually take some considerable time when you have to get them sent from another library. But I expect you know that by now. I've to go to the library myself. Mother wants a book of knitting patterns.'

They had been in the library less than two minutes when Rock Linton walked in. Cool and self-confident as usual, he strode over to the fixture where the two girls were standing, Kim had already asked about Bart's books and been told that they might have arrived but were not yet unpacked. The assistant promised to be able to tell her in about ten to fifteen minutes' time. Meanwhile, Kim was looking on the shelves, helping Susan to find what she wanted.

'Why don't they have a little more system?' Susan was saying exasperatedly when, seeing Kim's changed expression, she turned her head.

'Hello, Rock!' Susan greeted him with a smile. 'What are you doing away from your precious trees at this time of the day?'

He looked down into her pretty face before transferring his attention to Kim. His brows lifted a fraction and she blushed. He had observed that her hair was not noticeably shorter... and was probably wondering why she had changed her mind. However, he made no comment on it, for which Kim was more than a little relieved.

'What are you two young ladies looking for?' he wanted to know, ignoring Susan's question. 'Cookery books? Books on housewifery?' His mocking eyes laughed as he saw Kim's cheeks begin to burn, with anger. 'No?'

'No!' she repeated with far more feeling than he had expressed. And she could not resist saying, as she held out the pattern book she had just picked up, 'Can I interest you in anything like this?' There was a cute little baby on the cover, wrapped in a cosy white shawl. 'Men do knit, you know,' added Kim sweetly. 'It's good for the nerves, so I'm told.'

Susan laughed. Kim was disappointed because the situation was eased before she had time to know whether or not she had scored a point. All she did know was that those hard grey eyes were glinting, so it was reasonable to assume that had she and Rock been alone then there would undoubtedly have been one of their famous verbal combats.

'What kind of a book are you looking for, Rock?' Susan raised her eyes to his handsome face. It was very plain to Kim that, despite Susan's light-hearted manner with Rock, she was deeply affected by him emotionally.

'A light novel of some kind. I feel like relaxing.' Rock's eyes casually scanned the nearest shelves. 'Have you anything to recommend, Susan?'

She shook her head.

'I've never any time for reading. Too much to do on the farm.'

Rock shrugged and moved away, stopping by another fixture. Kim turned her back on him.

'Is this any good?' she was asking presently, having found a pattern book with a sweater on the front. 'It's for your father, you said? I rather think he'll enjoy wearing a sweater like this.'

'And it's simple to knit,' added Susan after opening the book. 'Yes, this will do fine.' She glanced at her watch. 'I'm afraid I can't stay any longer, Kim. Sorry.'

'That's all right. I'll know in five minutes or so if Bart's books are ready.'

No sooner had Susan left the library than Rock came back to where Kim was standing. He handed her a book, which she had accepted before realising that she should have been on her guard.

'I thought this might be of some value to you,' he said, his lip quivering with suppressed mirth.

Her eyes dropped to the title.

'The Dolphin Book of Etiquette and Good Manners,' she read.

'You're—detestable!' was all she could find to say.

'I expect,' he remarked equably, 'that it would afford you extreme satisfaction to throw it at me.'

'Perhaps,' she returned in deceptively pleasant tones. 'But as that's quite impossible, here in the public library, I'll give it back to you, and hope, Mr Linton, that you yourself will read it, and fully digest the most excellent advice which I feel sure the writer gives.'

To her surprise he laughed, which was not at all what she desired. She wanted to see him in a fury, recalling that on one occasion when he had frayed her temper to breaking point by his caustic remarks, he had said that only a female would go off at a tangent for so little cause. She had then asked if he himself never lost his temper. Never, was his most emphatic reply, and from that moment it had been an unconscious aim of Kim's to prove him wrong.

'Kim,' he was saying as he accepted the book back from her rather unsteady hand, 'let's not indulge in one of our famous verbal punch-ups here. How about calling a truce for a quarter of an hour or so and joining me for afternoon tea?'

She stared, as well she might. His voice was so unlike that of the tauntingly sarcastic Rock Linton with whom she seemed never to come out on the winning side. In fact,, his tone had a quality of persuasion that could not possibly be ignored. She found herself saying,

'Thank you, Mr Linton -' The swift and admonishing lift of his finger brought her words to a stop.

'Rock—I believe we decided to pander to Bart's incomprehensible wish that we used given names.'

Incomprehensible ... There was the most odd expression in Rock's eyes as that word had been uttered.

'I find difficulty in calling you—er—Rock when we're always so ungracious towards one another,' she confessed after a pause.

'You called me Rock very charmingly just now,' he said, those grey eyes laughing at her in a way that seemed to have the most strange effect on her pulses.

They quickened slightly. 'Incidentally, I feel that the word "ungracious" is rather mild, don't you?' Again he was laughing at her. She wondered why— this time—she felt no resentment, nor had any desire to retaliate. She said, changing the subject,

'I've really come here to collect some books for Bart. The assistant's looking to see if they've arrived.'

'When were they ordered?'

Kim told him, saw him frown and shake his head.

'It's unlikely that they'll have arrived yet,' he said. 'What kind of books are they?'

'One's on the natural vegetation of South Africa. I don't know what the other one is. I wasn't with Bart when he came in and ordered them -' She glanced up as the assistant appeared from the room at the back of the counter. The woman beckoned and a moment later she was apologising to Kim, saying that the books had not arrived yet.

'Will you be in next week?' she ended.

'I can come in, yes.'

'They might be here by about Thursday or Friday.'

'I can let Bart have a book on the natural vegetation,' Rock was saying as they went from the library into the street. 'Call at my house on your way home and I'll give it to you.'

'Thank you. Bart will be grateful for the loan of it.'

They went into the tea-shop and Rock ordered a pot of tea and some cakes. The order arrived promptly and Kim poured the tea. She

looked at the plate of cakes. Rock chose a plain one, she a cream puff.

'Not troubled about the figure?' His hard eyes travelled over what part of her body he could see from where he sat, opposite to her at a low table in the corner, a table overhung with a palm tree struggling for life in a pot which was far too small for it.

'I'm fortunate,' she said, cutting the cake with her fork.

Rock said nothing, but continued to regard her with an odd expression which was neither sardonic nor arrogant. This was a mood she had not met up with before, a changed mood which had a strange effect on her. She felt she would no longer be able to throw his image aside with the same ease as previously. The knowledge caused her to frown and attempt to analyse her mind. All she derived from her search was the fact that Rock, sitting there opposite to her, and looking at her with such intensity, was disquieting to say the least. For the first time she knew a lack of confidence in his presence. Up till now she had been a match for him, even though she had never actually experienced the glory of triumph. She had always had a quick return thrust ready whenever it was called for, but now ... It was as well, she decided ruefully, that they had called a truce.

'You're thoughtful,' commented Rock suddenly. 'Is it Bart's book?'

He seemed to be fishing, and Kim wondered why.

'No, I was in fact asking myself a question and debating an answer. It didn't come.'

He flashed her an interrogating glance.

'That's a bit cryptic, isn't it?'

She laughed lightly, and answered without hesitation,

'I can't tell you all I was thinking, but I can tell you a little of it.'

'Then I shall be thankful for small mercies.' He was mocking her, but she was not disarmed.

'I was wondering what had caused this change of mood, Mr—er—Rock?'

'Change of mood?' One straight eyebrow was lifted .'You'll have to be more explicit than that.'

'You've dropped that customary air of superiority. I don't feel I'm a poor, despised, subjugated female any more.' Kim did not know why she uttered words like those. It wasn't as if she had any desire to spar with him. He was smiling faintly as he said,

'So you do have claws, eh? Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Kim!' She said nothing to this, but cut herself another piece of cake and popped it into her mouth. 'The strong adjectives again,' he went on amusedly. 'Subjugated, indeed! He'd be a brave man who would attempt to subjugate you, I think.'

Another laugh escaped her. She noticed in a vague sort of way that her laugh interested him, bringing a strange gleam to those hard and stony eyes which were moving from her mouth to her own eyes, which were bright, revealing her mirth.

'He isn't breathing,' she declared confidently, and lowered her fork to pick up the last piece of cake.

'That's a dangerous statement to make,' he told her with a hint of satire that also seemed to carry a warning, stern and implacable. 'Be careful you don't tempt providence. You might one day find you've met someone who is more than a match for you.'

Her eyes flew to his. She felt her pulses increase, just as they had increased a short while ago.

'Who,' she inquired, keeping her tones dignified, 'is being cryptic now?'

'It's daring of you to state that the man isn't breathing who could tame you.'

'Tame!' She was glad she had nothing in her mouth, as she was sure she would have choked on it. 'I never used the word—nor am I likely to!'

'Tame—subjugate -' Rock shrugged his broad shoulders. 'What's the difference?'

'I believe,' she said, 'that we are about to break the truce of which we spoke.'

'Retreating, eh?' His voice was one of amused contempt. 'Just like a female to back out when she's in danger of losing. However, I'll say again, Kim, that you're over-confident in thinking the man isn't breathing who could cure you of your high-handed ways.'

Kim could have exploded at this; instead, she drew a deep breath, counted ten slowly and then said on a charmingly pleasant note designed to make him feel sorry for his outspokenness,

'It's very thoughtful of you, Rock, to offer Bart the loan of the book. He'll be delighted. Are you quite sure it won't inconvenience you if I call at your house on my way back? I mean, I could call tomorrow morning, early, if that will be more suitable for you ?' There, that would show him that she could be gracious and charming if she wanted. But to her annoyance he seemed not to have grasped her subtle guile—or if he had he chose to ignore it as he said,

'Had it been going to inconvenience me I'd not have suggested you call today.' He looked at her ... and she knew that her second guess was the correct one and that Rock had chosen to ignore her calculated approach, dismissing it as if it were too childish for his attention. She seethed. Why was this man so infuriatingly immune to her attempts at retaliation?

'I'm ready to go,' she said shortly. 'I see that you too have finished your tea.'

'What's the matter with you this time, might I ask?'

Her eyes widened.

'I don't know what you mean.'

Exasperatedly he drew a breath.

'Your whole manner has changed,' he told her, his eyes glinting darkly.

'I still don't know what you mean!'

Rock's mouth went tight. Kim had the extraordinary conviction that he would dearly have loved to shake her!

'One moment you put on the charm, while the next you can scarcely be civil. I find you trying to be friendly, yet at the same time your perversity comes out and you have no more control over it than you have over your temper.'

Kim's eyes widened even more and for an astounded moment she could find nothing to say. Eventually she did manage to say that she found his own attitude baffling in the extreme, and that his downright rudeness was even more baffling, as there was no valid excuse for it. And then she stopped, waiting for his response. She noted the

glinting light in his eyes, the taut, implacable set of his mouth. Had she managed at last to enrage him? Expectantly she looked for a sign that his temper was becoming out of control, but so much for her hopes. His face relaxed and the old familiar expression of sardonic amusement was all that he displayed.

'You were saying you're ready to go.' His suave voice was an irritation to her, his calm unruffled demeanour galling. 'I'll carry that parcel for you.'

She handed it over as they rose from their chairs. Rock paid at the desk on the way out and then escorted Kim to the place where she had left the car.

'Mine's just over there,' he said, pointing to it. 'You can follow me.' He waited till she had unlocked the door, then put her parcel on the passenger seat. 'I'll not drive too fast,' he promised before striding away to his own car.

Kim drove in his wake along the tree-lined road, her eyes as always scanning the dun-coloured bushveld, her senses vitally aware of the illusive charm of the primitive landscape. Away in the distance she could distinguish the rolling hills and kopjes from the dark bulk of the mountains beyond. The afternoon had been one of searing heat and now a smoky blue African haze lay across a huge tract of country to her left. To the right were the forest lands belonging to Rock, vast areas of mahogany and ironwoods, of tall yellowwoods growing to a hundred and fifty feet in height, ebony trees and several other species of great value.

The car in front veered off the road, into a drive lined with mango trees, at the end of which stood the immaculate white homestead known as Lusaka, a name given to it by Rock's grandfather, a tough Afrikaner who had started the plantations over fifty years ago. A flamboyant tree stood just inside the gates; orange red when in

flower, it must look magnificent against the azure sky, mused Kim as she followed the car in front, her speed greatly reduced now. The scent of balsam and honeysuckle assailed her nostrils even before she climbed out of the car. She stood for a long moment, her hand resting on the open door of the car, gazing round at the tropical luxuriance of the garden. It was aflame with colour, heady with perfumes. Some of the trees and flowers she was able to recognise—orange flowers, proteas, silver trees and bougainvillaea vines. The brilliant hibiscus flaunted its colour against a background of deepest green; lilies known as blood-flowers occupied a site close to a trellis covered with rambler roses.

'It's marvellous,' breathed Kim, lost in wonderment and appreciation to a point where all else was forgotten. 'Rock ... I've never seen anything so attractive!'

He seemed pleased, but coolly so.

'If you'll come inside I'll fetch the book.' He led the way, mounting a flight of five white stone steps, and entering a pillared porch, arched at the top with a brilliant purple bougainvillaea vine cascading down from some unseen anchor above the arch. Kim was ushered into a charming sitting-room with huge windows looking out on to the gardens at one side and a swimming-pool at the other. Palms waved above the blue water, their thin spidery fronds reflected in it. Flowers flanked the sides of the pool and the changing-room was also bedecked with tropical flowers. Away to the east rose the mountains, a back- cloth for the dense forests that constituted most of Rock's lands. Kim saw men working among the trees, lopping dead branches or using a spray on the foliage.

She turned into the room again, her gaze taking in the atmosphere of luxury and culture mentioned by Bart, and exemplified by the Turkish rugs on a highly-polished floor, by exquisite porcelain miniatures above the large stope fireplace, the expensively-covered

furniture, the carefully-arranged flowers occupying antique silver and cut-glass vases. A bookshelf took the whole length of one wall, but it evidently did not contain the book which Rock was lending to Bart. A clock chimed in the corner and she looked at her watch. Half past four. The sun was beginning to set and the clouds were gold-lined above the hills. Rock came back, the book in his hand.

'Thank you.' Kim took it from him and prepared to leave.

'Is Bart taking his rest each day?' inquired Rock, and she nodded.

'He's being very good indeed about it—much to my surprise!'

Rock's face was impassive.

'Be careful on your way back,' he advised. 'There are some new ruts in the road as you approach Katania Lodge—the result of the heavy rains we've had recently.'

'I'll watch put for them. Goodbye, Rock, and thanks again for the book.'

The big car moved slowly away from the front of the house, gathering speed as it covered the distance to the gates. Glancing in the mirror, Kim noticed that Rock was still standing there, waiting until the car was lost to his sight.

CHAPTER FOUR

KIM took a last glance into the mirror as she passed through the hall. Bart, waiting for her by the door, complimented her on her appearance. She wore an off-white dress of heavy silk, low-cut and with a tight- fitting bodice and flared skirt. A matching stole was about her shoulders, and over her arm her cloak of velvet.

'Do you like my perfume?' she asked when eventually Bart had said all there was to say about her dress, her hair, the pretty gold necklace and bracelet which matched it. She carried an exquisite Victorian evening bag in lacy gold wire which hung in drapes and fastened with a gold clasp. Bart said nothing about this; he had bought it for her as a Christmas present three years previously and whenever Kim took it out it was always greatly admired. It was a treasure she would keep for ever, she had told Bart, aware that he had been more than a little thrilled at finding so beautiful a present for her.

'It's ... hmm ... how I wish I was forty years younger!'

She laughed, noting the twinkle in his eye.

'It's the one you-bought me the other week,' she told him. 'I love it!'

'I wonder if Rock ...?' His voice trailed off and Kim looked at him in puzzlement.

'What were you going to say, Bart?'

'Oh, nothing,' he returned airily. 'Just—er -' He opened the front door. 'If you're ready, Kim, we'll be off.'

She got into the car, watched him switch on and press the starter. He was at the end of the path and turning into the road when she said,

'What were you going to say about Rock just now?'

'About Rock?'

'Bart,' she said softly, 'why the prevarication?'

'Kim dear, you're making something out of nothing.' Bart revved the engine before changing gear. 'I can't even remember what I was going to say, but it was probably that I wondered if he would be at the club tonight.'

'He's always at the club on a Saturday.'

'Yes ... well, he might have other things to do. One can't always be sure one's friends will be at the club, can one?'

'Is it very important that he's at the club tonight?' Kim had no idea why she was asking all these questions. All she knew was that Bart's manner puzzled her because he seemed to have something in his mind that he was keeping from her.

'It is rather important that he's at the club tonight.' Bart veered to one side of the dusty road as a family of Africans passed, father, mother and three wide-eyed piccanins, their shiny black faces revealed in the glare of the headlights. They were on their way to the village situated at the end of the road along which Kim usually took her daily ride on Sammy. 'I want to ask him one or two questions about that book he lent me.'

'I see.' But of course Kim did not see. She still felt puzzled by her employer's manner, but eventually forgot all about it as they approached the entrance to the club grounds. Already there were a number of cars parked and Kim automatically glanced around. Rock had not arrived yet.

Bart, who had become very well liked by the members of the club, soon became separated from Kim, who herself was whirled away by

Susan and introduced to the 'blonde bombshell' who she had said was coming to visit her. Kim's eyes widened; the girl was like something out of a glossy magazine, the sort of feminine wonder whom the readers of the magazine view with envy, say they wished they looked like that, and finally view the picture in disbelief and swear it was some trick of the camera, as no one could be so perfect!

Ravella shook hands, her big blue eyes shining like stars in their setting of incredibly long curling lashes. Her neck, swan-like, was adorned by a beautiful necklace of diamonds and sapphires; her dress was a model in gold lame, tight-fitting and slit from the hem to the knee on one side—very seductive, thought Kim, her eyes travelling to the girl's hands. They were perfect, with long slender fingers, expertly manicured nails, and adorned with a diamond ring on her right hand and a sapphire surrounded with tiny diamonds on the other. Ravella's voice matched the rest of her—it was just bound to do, thought Kim, not without a tinge of envy. Low and faintly husky, the voice was as excitingly seductive as the girl herself. No wonder Susan had said that her cousin got all the eligible young men.

'It's most entertaining to watch the effect she has on everyone who comes in,' said Susan when, for a moment or two she was alone with Kim, Ravella having already been surrounded by people, both men and women.

'You must have been here early,' observed Kim, looking over to where Ravella was. 'You seem to have introduced her to everyone already.'

'Not everyone. But yes, we were here early, and so Ravella's met quite a few of the members.'

The girl looked round after a while, and came back to her cousin.

'I thought you said there were some presentable young men here, Susan.' She spoke with a hint of censure. 'I haven't met one yet.'

'What about Dicky Farnham? He's tall and dark and handsome. What more do you want?' Susan was laughing at her cousin, but Ravella wore a pout on her lovely lips.

'He's useless! Why are men so feminine these days?'

'Val's another nice chap - Oh, I forgot; he's keen on Kim here.'

Kim shrugged her shoulders, but her colour did rise slightly.

'We're only friends,' she said, aware that this was not very original, but it was the best she could do.

'As yet,' was Susan's pointed rejoinder. 'It's early days.'

Kim thought of Val, whom she liked, but she also thought of Bart, whom she would never leave until the day when he himself said he no longer needed her services.

'You like Val?' Ravella frowned, looking Kim over as if assessing her chances of finding someone better than Val. 'He's not bad,' she said rather pettishly at last.

'What about John Paterson?' Susan persevered. 'He's good-looking enough for any girl.'

'But with a voice like a shy little adolescent female !'

'Ah, so you want a real masculine type, tall and strong, and with a dark brown voice, is that it?'

Ravella had to laugh.

'You're fun, Sue. You always were.'

'Thanks,' returned Sue, but rather dryly. And then, 'Well, Miss Choosey, here comes the nearest thing you'll get to perfection—the masculine type, tall and strong, and with a dark brown—well, a manly voice—though it can be as caustic as hell! Rock,' she called quietly as, having entered the lobby, he stood for a moment, looking round. 'Come and meet my cousin. I told you she was coming over for a visit. Ravella Spalding—Rock Linton.'

Kim watched him, noting the way his eyes travelled from the girl's face to her feet and back again in a matter of seconds. His hand came out and a small white one was put into it. Ravella winced and Kim felt that she liked being hurt by Rock's strength.

'I'm happy to meet you, Miss Spalding.' Cool the voice and the eyes remained hard. Kim saw the slight frown appear between Ravella's beautiful eyes. It would seem that here was one man who was not immediately to fall under her spell. The girl's eyelashes fluttered as she lifted her head to look into Rock's face. It was easy to see that Ravella, like her cousin, was deeply affected by the handsome timber man.

Rock's eyes wandered; he saw Kim standing there and bade her a cool,

'Good evening, Kim. Bart's with you?'

'Yes; he's over there, chatting with Mr and Mrs Holt.'

'He's well, then?' Half statement, half question. Kim suspected that Rock harboured an unnecessary anxiety as regarded her employer's health. The doctor had said there was nothing seriously wrong, but in spite of this Rock never saw Kim but that he inquired about Bart, and

more often than not he would remind her not to let him work too hard.

'Yes, he's very well indeed.'

'Good.' Again Rock glanced around, this time finding someone with whom he wished to talk. 'Please excuse me.' He nodded briefly and was gone. Ravella, a pout on her lips, said to her cousin,

'He's not very friendly, Sue. Is he always like that?'

'Rock?' Susan grimaced. 'With women, yes. A confirmed bachelor. Sorry about that, my pet! I'll try and find you someone else.'

'He's ... exciting,' murmured Ravella dreamily. 'A confirmed bachelor? I can't believe he is, Susan.'

'He's around thirty, and he's never had a serious affair.'

'How do you know that?'

'Because I've lived here all my life, that's how I know.'

'You mentioned serious affair. You mean—he's a flirt?'

'I don't mean any such thing. Perhaps I should have said he's never had an affair, serious or otherwise.'

Ravella was shaking her head, her eyes wandering to where Rock was now standing, superb in a white linen suit, talking to Ralph Astbury, the man who owned three shops in Tengaville.

'What you're saying is that he's had no experience of women at all.' She turned her head and the golden halo of her hair swung round and outwards, floating back on to her shoulders like the gentle spreading of a lady's fan. 'He's had plenty of experience, that one.'

'And it's the voice of experience talking.' Susan laughed as she teased. 'Come on and I'll buy you and Kim a drink and you can regale us with the stories of your exploits in the field of love and romance!'

The three laughed, attracting attention from Rock and his companion. The two men were joined by John Paterson, who said something which resulted in the other two nodding—although it seemed to Kim that Rock was frowning at the same time. However, as the girls strolled over to the bar the three men came forward to join them.

Kim's eyes met those of Rock; she noticed that his frown was no longer in evidence.

'See if you can find a table.' His voice was imperious, the flick of his hand indicative of arrogance. It was obvious to Kim that he expected her to do as she was told. 'Over there somewhere, away from this crowd.'

And indeed the club was becoming crowded; Kim had never seen so many people present at one and the same time. Could the reason be Ravella? wondered Kim. She dismissed the idea as absurd, but was later to discover that her guess was correct. News had travelled around in a very short space of time and everyone had come to take a look at the 'beauty',

as Kim more than once heard when someone was referring to Ravella.

She found a table and beckoned to Susan. Ravella was talking to old Mr Wainwright, a bachelor who was never tired of reminiscing about his younger days when he could have any woman under his spell with little or no effort at all. Ravella, enjoying herself at this old man's expense, was fluttering her lashes, making play with her lovely hands, tossing her head so that the glorious hair moved with a sort of

rhythm which, thought Kim, would attract any man's attention. Susan followed the direction of Kim's gaze and laughed.

'She's a case, isn't she? I told you she was lovely.'

'She's very beautiful,' said Kim.

'Do you know, she's even more beautiful than I remembered. Of course, I haven't seen her for years —we went over to England for a visit; Ravella was only eighteen then, but lovely. She's grown even lovelier during the past four years.'

'Has she never had a boy-friend—one to go steady with, I mean?'

'Not that I know of. As I said, she's far too choosey. You heard her tonight; not one of those handsome men appealed to her.'

'Rock did,' said Kim, her eyes seeking him as he stood at the bar, ordering the drinks. They were handed to him and he in turn handed two to vach of the two men standing with him. 'She found him exciting—to quote her own words.'

Exciting ... Could Rock be exciting? The only thing Kim had discovered about him was that, in the main, he was exasperating, with that air of superiority and arrogance and that absurd opinion about women.

His eyes let on her as he approached, carrying her drink and his own. The quirk of his mouth was more than enough to make her draw an impatient breath, which he heard and which caused a glimmer of amusement to enter his eyes. Ravella had joined them; she sat down, her glance moving swiftly from Rock to Kim and then back again. She seemed to become lost in thought for a few seconds, but soon produced a dazzling smile when spoken to by John.

'How long are we to have the pleasure of your company, Miss Spalding?' He was very correct; Kim had noticed it before and as her eyes once again met Rock's she could not suppress a smile. He too was amused but lifted his glass in a polite gesture so that John should not notice.

'I'm here for about six weeks.' Ravella's eyes sought Rock's face and she added, in that attractively husky voice of hers, 'I might be persuaded to stay longer. It all depends ...' She ended on the sort of note that made everyone look inquiringly at her.

'Depends on what?' inquired Rock with a sort of polite gravity.

An elegant shrug of Ravella's shoulders and then,

'If I find life diverting enough I shall stay.' The thick curling eyelashes fluttered, sending delectable shadows on to her cheeks.

'Diverting?' Ralph seemed puzzled. 'In what way, Miss Spalding?'

'One has to find life interesting, especially when on holiday. Susan can't possibly spend all her time with me, because she's so busy, so I must on occasions find my own amusement.' Again her eyes sought Rock's face. He seemed to draw a mask over it as, reaching forward to take up his glass from the table where he had only just placed it, he sipped his drink.

'Perhaps I can help,' offered John eagerly. 'I'm fairly free, so I could take you around.'

This was not at all what Ravella wanted, thought Kim amusedly. If only Ravella would accept that Rock was a confirmed bachelor she would not then continue to waste her time. Graciously Ravella replied, producing one of her delightful smiles,

'It's most kind of you, John, but I wouldn't want to inflict myself on you -'

'Inflict!' he broke in. 'My dear Miss Spalding, it would afford me the greatest pleasure on earth to take you about.'

Susan's lips twitched and so did Kim's. Rock, seeing her amusement, sent her an admonishing glance. She bristled. Who was he to send the silent message that she should mind her manners?

'I also could spare you some of my time,' Ralph was saying. 'My wife's an invalid, and doesn't get out much—only when I take her in the car. If you liked, Miss Spalding -'

'Oh, do please call me Ravella!' she broke in, her glance embracing the whole company with the exception of her cousin. 'Miss Spalding sounds so stiff and unfriendly.'

'Yes—well, Ravella,' continued Ralph perseveringly, 'as I was saying, if you liked we could have a day or two travelling around the countryside.'

'That might be entertaining,' she returned, but without much enthusiasm. Kim thought, glancing at Rock, that it would be polite of him to offer some of his time to Ravella, seeing that the other two had so gallantly offered theirs. But he remained silent and, later, when he and she were dancing, Kim looked up and said,

'You weren't very cordial towards Ravella. You could have been a little more gallant and offered her a day out somewhere. I'd been told, even before Bart and I arrived here, of the amazing hospitality of your people towards strangers.'

'You had?' he said, guiding her to the outside edge of the floor where there was a little more space. 'I hope our hospitality came up to your expectations?'

She had to laugh.

'You know very well that I'm not talking about myself.'

'But Ravella of the golden locks and sapphire eyes?'

'So you have poetry in you! I'm astounded!'

'Sarcasm doesn't become you,' he said, adopting a stern manner that should have angered her—but it did not, much to her surprise. 'If you were my sister I'm afraid I should be tempted box your ears now and then.'

This did anger her; she leant away, missed her step and was drawn sharply up against him. She felt the hardness of his frame, the strength of his hand on her back. Saliva collected on her tongue and she tried to swallow it, only to discover that it wasn't easy, for something seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. Her senses were stirred in some vital way; her heart was thudding against him and she was vaguely aware that he must be conscious of it.

'I'm—I'm sorry,' she stammered, trying to collect herself. 'I missed my—my step.'

'Owing to that temper of yours.' His hold relaxed as he guided her into the dance again.

'You say things to rile me!'

'You're too easily riled; that's your trouble.'

'It's only with you that I become riled!'

'Yes. I seem to remember Bart once saying that you never snapped at anyone else.'

'Do you mind if we don't dance any more? I find I prefer the company of more polite people I'

'Don't be so damned childish, Kim.' He looked down into her flushed face. 'You're all hot and bothered -'

'I am neither hot or bothered!'

'Whether you are or you aren't you're in need of some fresh, cooling air. Outside!' It was a command, but she had no choice anyway. His hand gripped her arm and she was propelled towards the verandah. From there Rock continued to propel her down the steps to the garden. She would have argued, and fought him off, but there were several people about —some on the verandah, others in the gardens, having come away from the heat of the ballroom.

'I wish I could understand you.' Her voice was surprisingly controlled, though every nerve in her body seemed to be tingling in some pleasant way.

'It isn't necessary to understand me,' responded Rock suavely. He still held her arm, but less tightly now. 'Are you feeling better, out here, where it's cooler?'

'Yes, indeed!'

'I thought you would be. It was far too overpowering in there. I've never known the club be so crowded as it is tonight.' He was walking slowly, matching his step to hers. She breathed deeply, glad he had brought her out here.

'What are you and Bart doing for Christmas?' Rock asked after they had been walking for some time, lengthening the distance between the clubhouse and themselves.

'We'll be staying at home, I expect. I did suggest we go away somewhere, to an hotel, with there being only the two of us, but Bart wasn't enthusiastic. He's changed, somehow,' she added thoughtfully.

'Changed?' Rock seemed to have forgotten about his question regarding Christmas. 'In what way?'

'He talks to himself, for one thing.'

'Yes? What else?' He sounded most concerned, she thought, remembering that she had already noticed his anxiety regarding Bart's health.

'Well... he has to take those pills the doctor gave him. I don't really know what they're for, do you?'

'To help his breathing or something of the sort,' answered Rock casually.

'The doctor told me to make absolutely sure that Bart never forgets to take them.'

'They're obviously necessary. Don't worry too much; many people have to take pills these days.' Kim said nothing and Rock reverted to the question of Christmas. 'I'm having a party,' he told her. 'You and Bart are invited, naturally. Then there's a dance at the club—it's always rather special. The Van der Waltes always have a barbecue and obviously you and Bart will be invited, so altogether you'll be quite all right at home.'

She nodded. It was Christmas dinner she was thinking about. But of course this was not England. Here, Christmas came in the middle of

summer. As if reading her thoughts Rock said that he might arrange a picnic, or a trip on a boat along the river. They could have Christmas lunch on board and, later, they could dine at his home.

'It's kind of you, Rock,' she said. 'I didn't expect -'

'I'm Bart's friend, remember,' he broke in. 'Obviously I'm going to see that both he and you are entertained at Christmas.'

'Do you have a tree?' she wanted to know.

'I haven't up till now.'

'Up till now ...' A hint of nostalgia in her voice seemed to have a strange effect on him and he said, on impulse she felt sure,

'How would you like to dress a tree for me?'

'You'd like one?' Strange, strange man, with so many conflicting moods and traits.

'It would be a change—nice when I have a party.'

'Yes, it would. Bart always had a tree at Christmas.'

'You're usually in England at this time?'

'This Christmas is the first we've spent abroad.' There was an unconscious note of yearning in Kim's voice; she was thinking of home. Christmas in England was so civilised in spite of the mad rush and hurry beforehand. For Kim and her employer and the housekeeper Christmas Day had been a quiet interlude of opening presents, of a snack lunch and then a brisk walk, from which they would return with glowing cheeks, return to the black-beamed manor house with its log fires, its mellowed atmosphere, and the shining tree, alive with fairy lights and gay robins and reindeers, and red-

robed Santa Clauses, to say nothing of the bright tinsel and other glittering decorations which Kim had so carefully attached to the bright green branches.

In the evening there would be a dinner, with a small number of Bart's friends invited. There would be expensive crackers by every cover, and a present on the tree for each guest. Music would follow, and happy conversation. Goodnights on the doorstep— and if it was snowing all the better. Yes, these were the Christmases Kim would remember all her life. Rock spoke, interrupting her reverie as he asked if she were still enjoying the stroll. She frowned inwardly, vexed that he should have cut her happy thoughts. It was unreasonable, she knew, and yet she could not keep the hint of sharpness from her voice as she replied,

'I'm glad of the change of air, if that's what you mean.'

'Not glad that you're out here with me, though?'

'Is there any reason why I should be?' she challenged.

'Girl,' said Rock softly, 'I've a mind to attack that cockiness you have and bring you down to your woman's level.'

Kim could have flared at this, but, suspecting that this was what Rock wanted, she suppressed her natural desire to hit back and instead changed the subject, reverting to Ravella, reminding him that the other two men had offered to take the girl out.

'You should have remembered the hospitality you're supposed to practise,' she went on, 'and made her a similar offer.'

'Perhaps I will,' he returned, slanting her an odd glance as they strolled along, under the trees. 'She might be diverting, that one.'

'She's extraordinarily beautiful.'

'No doubt about that.'

'Whoever marries her is going to be inordinately proud of his wife.'

'Trying to put the idea of marriage into my head?' he said with a laugh. 'You wouldn't be the first, not by any means ^

'Pompous man!' Kim would have withdrawn herself from the hold he had on her but, guessing her intention, he tightened his grip. She quivered, aware of those tingles again, affecting her whole body. Rock seemed to have managed to bring her almost intimately close to his own hard frame, and he had slackened his pace so that they now walked in rhythm. The moon, riding among a million stars, sent its beams slanting through the branches of the trees. It was a romantic situation, with night sounds and smells adding their own enchanting contribution. A bird somewhere, perhaps disturbed; the whirring of cicadas mingling with the distant call of a night prowler on the look out for food. And farther away still, over the veld, there could be heard the beat of a drum, rhythmic, primordial, mysterious.

Kim's mind became totally absorbed by this intimate moment; she marvelled that she should be here, with Rock, the man with whom she had incessantly indulged in battles, the bachelor whose determination to remain single was accepted by all the young women of his acquaintance, so much so that they never made any attempt to capture his interest, sure that it would be a complete waste of time. She looked up at his profile, and even though it was in shadow the clear-cut features stood out, sharply defined in silhouette.

'There's a seat over there -' Rock lifted a hand in a sweeping gesture. 'Care to sit down?'

She nodded her head, saying yes, she would like that. She was more than ever puzzled by his manner, as she had been puzzled several times lately. It was as if, at times, he could not help himself, and he

found himself being nice to her. In the main, though, he treated her with a sort of amused contempt, alternating with that cool and distant attitude which often made her feel as if he was totally unaware of her presence, even. These occasions were mostly when Rock came for a chat with Bart. And in between all this, were the 'verbal punch-ups' as Rock described their arguments. And now ... What sort of a mood was this? Surely he did not really want to be out here with her, in this highly stimulating and romantic atmosphere? So why had he insisted they leave the ballroom? It was too warm, he had decided, but in that case he could have waited until the dance was over and come out here on his own.

Kim gave it up. The peace, the lovely perfumes, the moon sailing through the African sky ... it was all far too attractive for the intrusion of troublesome problems and futile questions. Enjoy it, said her heart; it'll be a memory to take away, as she had so many other memories of exotic places to which Bart had taken her.

They reached the seat and to her surprise Rock brought out his handkerchief to dust the part where she was to sit.

'We don't want a mark on this lovely dress,' he said.

'Thank you, Rock.'

They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in thought. At length Rock broke into the quietness by mentioning his request for her to decorate a Christmas tree for him. She wondered why his thoughts had travelled these lines, and her pulses quickened at the idea of his being absorbed in musings that included her.

'I'll order it, but as for the decorations—well, I'm going to leave those entirely to you. There's always a fine selection on sale in Tengaville, so go along and buy whatever you think is necessary to make a really excellent show.'

'You're giving me a free hand?' She was shaking her head as she spoke. 'I wouldn't care for that, Rock. I might buy far too much.'

'I think not,' he returned. 'A woman knows what's required for such things.'

She could not resist saying,

'So women are better than men at some things?'

'Hello ... we're off again, are we? My dear Kim, you're the most perverse female I've ever had the misfortune to meet!'

'I believe you've used that word before, in describing my character.'

'And I expect I shall use it again, many times.'

'Then you can't complain if I retaliate.' Kim had no idea why she should want to argue with him. In fact, it struck her that she had somehow managed to create the situation without having had any intention of doing so.

'Has it ever occurred to you that I might retaliate ... and in a way which could cause you some considerable embarrassment?' Rock's voice was taut; she turned her head and saw that his features were rigid. She knew afterwards that she should have been warned, but she was not, and in consequence she said tartly,

'I cannot conceive of any retaliation on your part that would cause me considerable embarrassment. A small amount, no doubt, but -'

'No?' he broke in, and at the same time leapt to his feet. 'You can't? Well, my girl, you should have taken note of what I said a few minutes ago, about attacking that cockiness and bringing you down to your woman's level!' He was towering above her; his hand came forth and took hold of her wrist. She was jerked to her feet, brought

against his hard body—no, crushed against it. His other hand was under her chin, but she twisted her head before he had the chance to jerk her face up. Her action, being successful in thwarting his attempt to kiss her, served only to enrage him and the next thing Kim knew was that he had slid his hand behind her, grasped a handful of her hair, and brought her head right back with such savage force that she cried out in pain.

'Oh! Leave me alone -' Kim got no further, as his mouth, hard and demanding, pressed mercilessly on hers, keeping her lips apart despite her efforts to shut them hard against the primitive arrogance of his. She tried to struggle, but his mastery was impregnable and Kim ceased her struggles, allowing him to take her lips and crush them beneath the ruthlessness of his own.

'So you're no longer struggling?' Triumph in his tone, and even in the dim light she could see the amused curve of that sensuous mouth. 'It would seem that I've achieved my object.'

She said coldly,

'Which was?'

'To bring you to your woman's level,' was his answer, spoke in some amusement.

Kim seethed.

'By sheer brute force,' she cried with contempt. 'I trust you're proud of your achievement!'

'Careful, girl...' So soft the voice, but dangerous. 'A kiss or two could be only the beginning, the first lesson,'

'Indeed?' she rejoined haughtily.

'Yes—indeed.' Sterner the voice now, and with a gritting edge to it which. Kim had never encountered before. 'And the lessons could become harder as they progressed.'

'You talk in riddles,' said Kim contemptuously. 'Please stop this nonsense and take me back to the club. I've no desire to argue with you -'

'Then that's a change,' he broke in with a light laugh. But then he became serious, and the stern edge to his voice was heard again. 'Nonsense, you call it, eh? And I talk in riddles. Kim, my girl, you are about to receive lesson two.' And before she could escape she was crushed to him, her mouth claimed ... and one small firm breast taken in his hand. She twisted furiously, aware of heightened emotions that threatened to carry her on the tide of her captor's passion. Desperately she fought, while Rock merely held her so easily, his soft laugh of triumph floating on the still, scented air. He bent his head once more; she felt his cool clean breath on her temple, her cheek, her mouth. His kiss was possessive, his embrace dominant. She stood at last, passive, exhausted by her futile attempts at escape. Rock's lips left her mouth, to find her throat, and then the tender curve of her breast. Why, oh, why had she chosen a dress as low-cut as this! Never again would she do so—never as long as she lived!

'Relax,' he murmured, close to her lips. 'Follow your womanly inclinations --'

'Be quiet! Oh, I hate you, Rock Linton! I shall tell Bart what a cad you are!'

'I rather think,' he rejoined, unperturbed by her threat, 'that this little episode is the very last you will want to relate to Bart, or to anyone else for that matter.' He was laughing at her and she wondered if he knew that she was crying, that the tears she had been desperately

trying to suppress were in her eyes, moistening her lashes, ready to fall down on to her hot cheeks.

'He thinks you're a wonderful person, but I'll let him know otherwise. I will, no matter what you say to the contrary! I shall say you assaulted me!'

'Shall you admit that you responded to my lovemaking?' he wanted to know, laughing on seeing her fists clench with fury.

'I did no such thing!' A mistake! She knew it almost before the last word was out of her mouth. Rock, challenged like this, just had to prove his ability to bring her to the point of surrender.

'So you ask for lesson three, do you? Kim, you're a very slow learner, I'm afraid.'

'No ... please ...' The tears fell, but in the dimness he failed to notice. Or perhaps he had noticed but was heartless enough to remain immune. 'I shall shout out for help.'

'Shout away,' he encouraged. 'Do you suppose anyone will hear you? We're a long way from the clubhouse, but in any case the music would drown your cries for help.' He was already drawing her into his arms; she felt the quivering of her nerves, the racing of her heart, the wild chaos of her pulse. She felt the hardness of his body, was aware of the deliberate temptation as he crushed her intimately to him. Her own small body protested, then relaxed. She was helpless against the violence of his rising passion, and when he commanded her to lift her face and put her lips to his she found herself obeying with a meekness she would never have believed possible. 'You little witch, Kim ...' Rock's voice was low, bass-toned. 'I've a mind to proceed to lesson four.'

. Sheer terror gripped her, for she was under no illusions, either about Rock ... or about herself. He had awakened emotions that were entirely, new to her, for even Richard had not displayed an ardour as fierce and primitive as this man, this toughened Afrikaner whose life was spent in the open, among the primitive peoples of this dark continent. Had some of their native abandon rubbed off on him? One thing she did know: Susan had made a major error in assuming that Rock Linton had had no experience of women! He was speaking, breaking into her thoughts as he said,

'Give me those lips again -No, don't struggle or refuse, for you know what the result will be.' Commanding his voice, dictatorial his manner. Kim dared not disobey the order he had so arrogantly given her. The tears fell as she raised her head, mutely offering him her lips. He felt the moisture on his face and drew away; a long brown finger touched her cheek, causing her to quiver with emotion, for there was a strange glancing tenderness in the action. 'You're ... crying.'

She swallowed the hard little lump in her throat.

'Yes,' she murmured almost inaudibly.

'What for?'

'Need you ask?'

'You goaded me, Kim,' he almost snapped.

'Not to—to th-those lengths,' she quivered, a distinct catch in her voice.

Silence. She wondered if it was remorse that stilled his tongue. A faintly bitter smile curved her lips, lips that were swollen and painful

to her touch. The arrogant Rock Linton would never feel remorse. There was no room for it, filled as he was with triumph at his victory.

He spoke at last, repeating softly her own words,

'Not to those lengths.'

'I hope—hope you are—are proud of yourself!'

Another silence, filled with tension.

'You're expecting me to apologise?' said Rock curiously.

'You wouldn't lower your pride,' she returned bitterly. Why was he still holding her arms? She wondered if she dared twist away, and run. But no! He might be in a quiet mood at this moment, but she rather thought that it would not take very much to arouse that unbridled ardour again. 'At least,' she added, speaking her thoughts aloud, 'it would surprise me if you did lower your pride sufficiently to apologise!

'Then you're in for a surprise. I do apologise, Kim. You goaded me, but that's no excuse for my conduct. Had I boxed your ears there would have been an excuse, simply because you deserved it.'

She said stiffly,

'Can we go back now?'

'You want to? People will see you've been crying.'

Her lip quivered and she feared the tears would start to fall again.

'I'd l-like to go home. I d-don't feel very well.'

Obviously he took this last sentence with a pinch of salt, because he ignored it as he said that it was not possible for her to go home.

'Everyone would wonder what was wrong,' he added. 'And you'd be giving Bart unnecessary concern.'

'What can I do, then?' she asked fractiously. What was the matter with her? True, this sense of listlessness could be the aftermath of that violent scene, and the awakening of emotions that took almost as much out of her as her physical struggles had done, but Kim felt somehow that she was sickening for something.

'Dry your eyes first, and then we'll walk a little. You'll soon be feeling yourself again.'

'You're very kind!' she said sarcastically.

'Have you a handkerchief?,'

'No, I haven't I It's in my evening bag and I've left it -'

'Then we'll use mine.' Rock produced his handkerchief. He opened it out and she saw that he was looking for any dirty mark which might have been made when he dusted the seat for her. He folded the handkerchief and before she realised it he had lifted her face with a gentle touch of his finger. She stared while he dried her cheeks, then he dabbed her eyes. 'There, does that feel better?'

'A little,' she answered, but pettishly. 'Drying my eyes can't alter the way I feel.'

'No, Kim. I'm sorry, child. Come, let's walk for a while.'

He took her arm, his manner gentle. She had no desire to twist away, for her strength seemed to be leaving her altogether. They were

putting more distance between them and the clubhouse, but had not proceeded very far when Kim said she wanted to turn back.

'It'll take us a few minutes to reach the clubhouse,' she added, 'so I've time to look more my normal self.'

'If you're sure, Kim.'

Was he contrite? She had declared to herself that he could never feel remorse, and even though he had apologised she gave him no credit for any real regret. However, his manner at this moment was most certainly one of regret. Well, sorry or no, he would never be forgiven 1 She would detest him for as long as she lived.

CHAPTER FIVE

ON their return they went immediately to the long, flower-decorated table on which the buffet supper was set out. Kim had glanced surreptitiously about her, watching for some hint of curiosity to creep into people's eyes. She encountered none and was reassured. Rock said, noticing her looking around,

'You look all right, Kim—no trace of tears.' He smiled at her, but she responded with a tightening of her mouth.

Ravella sailed up to them, and actually tucked an arm into Rock's. Instantly freeing himself, he moved away from the girl.

'What lovely food! Rock, can I sit with' you to have my supper?' Ravella was obviously undaunted by his action.

'You can sit with us,' replied Rock, with an emphasis on the last word.

'Us ...?' The girl looked around. 'Who are you with?'

'Kim. We shall probably be joined by Mr Nash.'

Ravella glanced past Rock's broad shoulders and saw Kim a short way along the table, a plate in her hand but nothing on it. Rock moved on, practically ignoring the girl, and reached Kim's side.

'I'm not hungry,' she said in a tired voice. 'If you'll excuse me I'll just sit over there. You can have Ravella for company.' She sounded peevish and she knew it. Her head ached abominably and her legs seemed almost unable to support her weight.

'It so happens that I haven't the least desire to have Ravella for company.' He kept his voice low, his eye on the lovely girl who, having collected her plate, was saying something to the young man at

her side. 'Why aren't you hungry?' Rick inquired of Kim. 'Surely you've got over it by now?'

She glared up at him.

'You might have "got over it", as you put it, but I haven't! I feel awful!'

He looked at her and frowned.

'You're certainly flushed,' he admitted.

'Rock, you haven't got much on your plate. Aren't you hungry?' Ravella's bright voice almost broke into what he was saying and it seemed to Kim that Rock made an impatient click of his tongue, but she could not be sure. He was courteous enough in the answer he gave to Ravella.

'Not too hungry. I shall have one or two sandwiches; they're at the other end of the table.'

'Ah, there you are!' Bart had come up unnoticed by either Rock or Kim. 'Have you two been for a walk? I couldn't find you when I looked around.'

'We went outside for a breath of fresh air,' explained Rock without much expression.

'I see.' Bart was nodding in a strange sort of way, a way that puzzled Kim, while at the same time giving her the impression that he was extremely pleased about something. 'I must admit that it was most sensible of you both. The atmosphere in the ballroom became very oppressive.'

'You've been out in the gardens?' from Ravella with a frowning glance in Kim's direction. 'I wish someone had offered to take me outside. I was horribly hot and stifled.'

'I'm sure John would have taken you out for a stroll,' said Bart mildly. 'He's never taken his eyes off you all evening. But I noticed you didn't encourage him. You should, my dear; he's a nice, sensible young man, and one you can trust, I'm sure.'

Kim and Rock exchanged glances. She was silently saying,

'Hear that? John can be trusted!' While Rock was saying,

'All right, all right, I heard what Bart said!'

Friction, thought Kim. It was always there. What was the matter with them—two sane people always at each other's throats?

Kim turned away from the table. Bart said concernedly,

'What's wrong, dear? Aren't you having anything to eat?'

Kim bit her lip and turned about again. She had no wish to upset Bart.

'I'm not really hungry, but I'll have a sandwich.'

'Good girl. Rock, where are we going to sit?' He glanced around vaguely as he spoke. 'There's a table for three over there. Get me a sandwich while I go and hold it!' He was away before either Rock or Kim could speak. Ravella,. her lovely eyes glinting, swung around so that her back was to Rock and Kim. She began to speak to someone and Rock, grimacing, held the plate of sandwiches out to Kim, then helped himself.

'We'll be nice and quiet here,' from Bart as the two joined him. 'Gosh, what a crowd there is here tonight!'

Rock nodded.

'Apart from Christmas, when we have a rather grand ball, there's never been such a crowd.'

Bart was looking at Kim and she did wonder if she showed any signs of the ordeal through which she had been put by Rock, the man whom Bart admired so much. Kim saw Bart's eyes move to Rock, saw the faint smile which to anyone else would have meant nothing. But to Kim it portrayed deep satisfaction over something. She had seen it many times when his writing was running smoothly, had seen it accompanying his words when on finishing a particularly good chapter he would say,

'That went perfectly according to plan, Kim. I feel it's one of the best chapters I've ever written.'

'What a crush this is! And Susan used to write voice broke her thoughts and she turned towards him. 'Tea or coffee?'

'Tea, please.'

He excused himself and went off to get the drinks. Kim heard Ravella's voice close beside her.

'What a crush this is! And Susan used to write and say it was a quiet place where she lived.'

John was with her; Kim heard him say,

'It certainly is a crush. Where are we going to sit?'

Kim felt guilty as, turning her head, she saw Ravella and John standing there, looking around in search of a table. Ravella caught her glance and looked away.

'Ravella wanted to sit with us,' Kim said to Bart. 'Can we make room for her and John?'

To her amazement Bart frowned. However, he graciously agreed to move round while Kim, attracting John's attention, told him there was room at her table, if he could find two chairs, that was.

'Oh, thanks a lot!' Without hesitation he put down his plate of food and went off in search of the chairs. He was back within a couple of minutes carrying the chairs. Ravella, once seated, appeared to have forgotten the slight she had received and became her bright and smiling self. Rock returned, but of course he had only three drinks on the small tray he carried. Ravella shone up at him; politely he asked if he could get her something to drink.

'Yes, please, Rock. I'll have coffee,' she added, glancing at the drinks which he was transferring from the tray to the table.

'John,' said Rock, 'what are you having?'

'Tea, please.'

It was brought and Rock sat down; Ravella offered him a dazzling smile which revealed her faultless white teeth and the tip of a small pink tongue.

'These patties are delicious,' she declared after a while. 'Rock, would you be so kind as to fetch me another, before they all disappear?'

'I'll go,' offered John eagerly. 'Is one enough?'

She shrugged elegantly.

'You can bring me two if you like. They're not very big.' The girl glanced at Rock from under her incredibly long eyelashes. He was at present immune to Ravella's charms, but Kim wondered just how long this would hold. It would be interesting to watch events, to see how far Ravella could succeed with Rock. Kim thought of that scene in which she had so recently played a reluctant part, and she rather thought that Ravella would have enjoyed every single moment of it. Her eyes went to Rock and she recalled Susan's saying that if ever he found himself falling for someone he would fight tooth and nail to resist her. Was he fighting to resist Ravella?

'Kim dear, you're not eating.' Bart's voice broke into her reverie and she looked at him, managing a smile. Her head was worse now, the pain more intense. She felt hot and sticky, and even her arms felt weak.

'I did say I wasn't hungry,' she reminded him, but picked up the sandwich and took a bite. Rock's attention was focused upon her face and Kim noticed that an expression of anxiety had come to his eyes. She would have liked to subject him to one of her frigid glances but, gripped as she was with this lassitude, she had no interest in reminding him of his outrageous behaviour, out there, in the club gardens. All she wanted was to be in her bed, slipping between the cool sheets and finding escape from this pain in sleep.

'Can I get you another drink?' asked Rock, noticing that her cup was empty.

'I would like one, yes, please, Rock.'

'Bart?'

'No, thanks.'

John's tea was untouched, but Ravella's cup was almost empty.

'I don't want any more coffee, Rock,' she said before he could speak. 'I'll let you buy me a drink at the bar later,' she added, swinging that glorious hair, so that it floated about her bare shoulders before settling again.

Rock made no answer, but moved away to get Kim's tea. Bart was staring intently at Ravella, a frown between his eyes. Kim felt sure that he was debating on whether or not the lovely girl could pierce Rock's armour. It was plain that Bart would not be pleased by any success Ravella might have, but Kim failed to see why. It could make no difference to Bart if Rock fell under the spell of this rare beauty.

Rock returned and Ravella chattered incessantly to him, ignoring the other three at the table. That Rock was uncomfortable was clear, but at the same time he did seem to be melting, taking an interest in the girl. Well, she was certainly trying, thought Kim. She was using her eyes, her hands, her expertise in making that beautiful hair move almost rhythmically. Kim allowed herself a spiteful wish. She hoped the detestable Rock Linton would eventually find Ravella irresistible... or did she? Her own emotions seemed to flood in on her and she was re-living those moments of surrender when, passive, she had received Rock's passionate kisses ... and his caresses. Her senses were stirred now as then, and she could not suppress the impulse to raise her eyes and look at Rock. His gaze was fixed upon her; she bit her lip, profoundly aware that she was very transparent to this perceptive man. If she had been feeling herself she could perhaps' have disillusioned him by giving him one of her haughty stares, but all she did was to turn away, catching her breath as a pain— more severe than the rest-shot through her head.

'Have we all finished?' Bart was asking a short while later. 'If so, perhaps we should move, and give someone else the chance of sitting here.' Many people, having helped themselves from the buffet, were standing around, plates in hand, waiting for others to vacate their tables.

Kim's party got up arid went into the ballroom, where they found a vacant table. Rock asked Ravella to dance, then said politely as he rose from his chair,

'If you will excuse us?'

'Of course.' Kim and Bart spoke together. Kim saw that Bart's forehead was creased in a frown. 'I don't care for that girl,' Bart added when presently John left the table. 'No, I don't care for her at all.'

Kim nodded absently. Her mouth had become dry, and a wave of utter dejection was sweeping over her. The result of her condition, she thought... But no. She had to own to the truth. Her dejection was caused by the idea that Rock and his fair partner might fall in love with one another.

'Shall we dance, Kim?' Bart asked a few moments later.

'Yes—if you like.' She tried to sound enthusiastic as she added, 'They're playing a tune we both like.'

They got up, but Kim felt she was rapidly becoming affected by the heat. It was so oppressive, with a filmy blue haze circulating from the bar and the lounge where people were smoking cigarettes. Heat along with sunshine was bearable, once you got used to it, Bart had told Kim when first she went with him to a hot country, and she had found this to be correct. But now she felt she hated the heat of Africa, for it was sapping every vestige of energy and leaving her drained. Her body seemed to be weighted down with lead; she missed her step several times, so it was not surprising that at last Bart should realise that something was amiss.

'Are you all right, Kim?' His anxious eyes looked down into her flushed face. 'No, you're not,' he said, answering his own question.

'I felt a little off-colour earlier on, when Rock and I were outside.'

'And now you feel the same way again?' He was leading her skilfully towards one of the open windows. 'We'll get out of here,' he added, taking her hand in his.

Kim would quite naturally have preferred to go home, but she hesitated to mention this, unsure of whether or not Bart would be disappointed at having his evening cut short. He had been thoroughly enjoying himself, she knew, chatting with several older men with whom he had made friends, and Kim felt it would be selfish of her to insist on going home. It wasn't as if she was unable to hold up. In fact, once they were out in the fresh air, she felt a little better. Anxiously Bart asked her how she was feeling, and his relief was fervently expressed when, having been reassured by Kim, he said,

'Thank heaven for that! I'd been seeing you ill in bed with influenza or something.'

'How lovely and cool the air is.' Kim inhaled deeply several times, filling her lungs with the clean air which blew over the veld from the mountains in the distance.

'I think,' said Bart after they had been sitting on the verandah for about ten minutes, 'we shall go home.'

'But -'

'Something tells me that you would be better in bed.' He slanted her a glance as he added, 'You see, Kim, I have an idea that you're far worse than you'll admit -No, please don't interrupt. Knowing you as I do, it occurs to me that you'd not want to spoil my pleasure by expressing a wish to be taken home?

She said nothing, but nodded unconsciously. Bart went off, promising to ask Susan to collect her cloak from the powder-room. He would say goodnight to everyone for her.

'I couldn't say goodnight to Rock,' he told her when he returned. 'He's dancing with that—with Ravella! I couldn't go dodging between all those people just for that. Someone will tell him we had to leave, I expect.'

It was only when they arrived home that Kim realised she had left her evening bag at the club. She was almost in tears as she said to Bart,

'It was on the chair where I was sitting when we were having supper. I don't know how I came to forget it.' But she did know. Her whole attention was with Rock, her tired mind grappling with thoughts that included the possibility of Ravella's being able to penetrate Rock's hitherto impregnable armour. Later, she had watched them dancing. Each superlative in his or her own particular way, together they were perfection. Many eyes had been on them and it was not difficult to read what was in people's minds.

'Your bag will be all right,' Bart assured her soothingly. 'Someone's sure to spot it and hand it in.'

'Yes ...' Her lip trembled; she supposed it was her physical state aggravating her mental one, but nothing would have satisfied her more than for Bart to offer to take her back to the club. Instead he got her to bed. She thought she heard him muttering to himself after he had gone from her room, but she could not be sure. He brought her a drink of brandy which she swallowed, but only to please him.

'You'll sleep now?' His face seemed more lined than usual, his eyes less bright.

'Yes, Bart, I'll sleep. It's nothing to worry about. I'll be all right in the morning.'

'I hope so, Kim dear, I hope so.'

But her optimism proved to be no more than wishful thinking. Kim awoke to the realisation that she was ill. Every bone in her body ached and her face and neck were wet through with sweat. Pain seemed to be causing knots in the pit of her stomach. She tried to call out, only to find that her throat was dry and stiff. Mercifully Bart had risen early and his first act was to come into her bedroom to see how she was.

'You're very ill -' He seemed to become helpless all at once—so unlike him, thought Kim, turning to try and find a cool place on the pillow. 'What am I to do?' He touched her forehead automatically. 'A doctor ... the hospital... Rock ... Rock! That's it!' and off he went, dragging his dressing-gown from his shoulders even before he had reached the door. Kim heard the car engine, then a roar and a scraping sound. For once, Bart was not handling his car with the care he normally exercised.

Kim had dozed by the time he returned, but the slamming of the car door jerked her back to consciousness. She winced at the pain in her head, and threw out an arm on to the coverlet, seeking for the comfort of the cool white linen. Rock strode into her bedroom; she was conscious of him standing over her, his strong brown hand deliciously cool on her forehead. She felt him take her arm and put it back, then he brought up the bedclothes, tucking them underneath her chin.

'I'm too hot,' she protested, but weakly. 'I don't need all these bedclothes.' And she would have thrown them off if Rock had not prevented her from doing so.

'I'll get the doctor,' she heard him say to Bart, who was hovering in the background. 'Meanwhile, stay with her and see she doesn't throw off the covers.' His voice was almost harsh, and it was urgent. Kim managed to ask,

'Is it influenza?'

'It's a fever,' he said shortly, 'but not, I hope, a serious one.'

'Not serious?' from Bart with relief. 'That's good to hear, Rock.'

'But it'll be uncomfortable while it lasts.' Rock went out and Bart came and sat beside the bed. Kim looked at him and even in her lethargic state she saw again the lines on his face. He seemed to be ageing far more quickly than he should, she thought, and a terrible wave of depression swept over her. She started to cry, the matter of her evening bag taking on enormous proportions.

'I've lost my bag!' she cried. 'Why didn't I remember it?'

'Hush, Kim love. The bag's all right. I'll go out later and collect it for you.'

'It's gone ..She began to shiver violently, yet her body was soaked and her head burned. 'Can I have a drink of water, Bart?'

'Of course.' He went off and fetched it for her, helping her to raise her head sufficiently for her to be able to drink it.

Rock was back within the hour. The doctor would be here some time before lunch, he said. He was at present in Tengaville, attending to two other people who had the fever.

'Is there going to be an epidemic?' asked Bart, but Rock said he did not think so. He looked at Kim, saw the evidence of tears on her cheeks, for she had been crying again.

'It's her evening bag,' supplied Bart, seeing Rock's frown. 'Kim left it at the club last night and she's got it into her head that she won't ever see it again.'

'Where did you leave it, Kim?' asked Rock.

'On my chair, after we'd had supper.' Even speaking was becoming an effort to her, and her voice was quivering as she added, 'It's lost. I know it's lost!'

'I'll call at the club and pick it up when I'm in town this afternoon,' Rock promised, ignoring her last few words.

'Thanks,' said Bart gratefully. 'I'd told Kim that I would go for it, but if you're going into town it will save me the trouble.' He looked at Kim, lying there, great beads of moisture glistening on her forehead. 'Besides, I'd rather not leave her, even though I know she'd be all right with the servants.'

The doctor arrived, took her temperature and frowned. Kim heard him say to Bart,

'She ought to be in hospital, but it wouldn't do to move her.'

Bart nodded.

'You're giving her an injection?' he asked, and Kim turned her head to see the doctor preparing the syringe.

'Of course.'

'Rock seemed sure that Kim's fever is not serious.' The unsteadiness of Bart's voice was more than enough to betray his deep anxiety.

'Not too serious,' agreed the doctor as he approached the bed. 'But the young lady's in for an uncomfortable time for the next few days or so.'

The needle was inserted. The doctor told Bart that Kim must be kept warm.

'That's imperative,' he added firmly. 'She'll try to throw off the bedcovers, but she must not be allowed to do so.'

'I'll see that she doesn't.'

Rock called in later in the afternoon, bringing Kim's evening bag with him.

Its recovery was as all-important as its assumed loss had been a short while earlier, which meant that Kim's thanks were so effusive as to be totally out of proportion. With patient understanding Rock listened to her repeated expressions of gratitude, but at last assured her that they were unnecessary and told her to be quiet and relax.

'She's taking too much out of herself,' he told Bart.

'I never thought to see her laid so low as this.' Bart's voice was hoarse and deeply concerned. 'She's never ill, you see.'

'The fever isn't serious, Bart. I myself didn't think it was, and the doctor said the same.'

'Yes, I know, but she's suffering, and it hurts me.'

Kim, listening despite the fact that she was hovering on the edge of sleep, was again reminded that Bart looked upon her as a daughter. She wondered what ideas he had in his mind for her future, when he himself eventually retired. She knew for sure that he would never just say,

'Well, Kim, I've decided to retire, so I advise you to begin making plans regarding another job.'

And yet what else could she do but look around for another job? Suddenly a terrible weight settled on her whole mind and body, pressing down so that she felt she could scarcely breathe. Tears filled her eyes; she turned away from the gaze of the men standing there, but her action was too late.

'Kim, my love, what's wrong?' Bart might have been crying too, so thick was his tone. 'Why are you crying?'

She said, unable to think at all for the drowsiness that was enveloping her mind,

'If y-you retire—I d-don't kn-know what to d-do.'

'Is she delirious?' asked Bart.

'Not at all. Her future's troubling her.' Rock's words seemed to be harshly spoken and Kim's tears began to flow more freely. Vaguely she wondered why she should be hurt by his tone. And why should he have used it anyway?

'Let's go into the other room,' Kim heard Bart say. 'I'll send the housegirl up to sit with her for a while.'

Kim heard the bedroom door close behind the two men; a few minutes later she was asleep, her last sluggish thought being that Bart had something of vital importance to say to Rock, something which he had no intention of allowing Kim to overhear.

CHAPTER SIX

THE fever raged for three days. Bart insisted on sitting with Kim himself, arousing extreme impatience in Rock, whose visits to Katania Lodge were frequent.

'You must get some rest!' Kim heard him say imperiously. She had just wakened, but was so drowsy that neither of the men noticed, and in consequence talked freely, unaware that she was taking it all in. 'If it'll put your mind at rest then I'll sit with her myself.'

'But your time, Rock. Perhaps I'll rely more on the housegirl.'

'Your very tone betrays your anxiety,' almost snapped Rock. 'Go to bed. I'll stay with her for the rest of the afternoon.'

Kim turned when Bart had gone, and threw off the blankets. They were put back, and firmly tucked in so that she was unable to move them.

'I'm too hot,' she complained. 'If I had one blanket less it would be better.'

'How are you feeling?' asked Rock, bypassing her request.

'Better—I think.'

'Your temperature's almost back to normal. The doctor told me just now.'

'You've seen him?'

'I arrived as he was leaving. You'll be feeling more yourself by tomorrow. The worst is over.'

'You mean I shan't be shivering so much?'

He nodded.

'That's correct.' His keen gaze examined her face, she thought: I must look awful—haggard and washed-out. Aloud she asked,

'Did I imagine it, or have you been in every day, and not only once, but several times?' She marvelled at her lack of embarrassment, for assuredly Rock must be recalling that scene in the gardens of the club, must be remembering that he had coerced her into surrendering herself to his mastery. For Kim herself, it seemed to be a scene from the distant past, and that time had erased the need for embarrassment. She felt that it was no longer important, either to Rock or to herself. When she was well again they would be back where they began—fighting verbally, each seeking for the sharpest and most cutting barb with which to disconcert the other.

'You didn't imagine it,' said Rock in answer to her question.

'No?'

'No,' he repeated with a smile.

Kim uttered a deep sigh. Coming so regularly he must have seen her at her very worst. What she did not think of was that she might have rambled, giving Rock an insight into her past life, the life she had known before Bart had come into it.

'It's kind of you to bother about Bart and me in the way you do.' Kim knew her mouth was quivering as she added, 'I feel I don't deserve your kindness.'

Rock seemed to give a start.

'I wasn't very kind to you once,' he reminded her with a rather grim expression.

'Oh, that. I expect, to a certain extent, I asked for it.'

'You won't talk like that, my child, when once you're yourself again,' he assured her in some amusement.

'I've been horrid to you,' she went on drowsily, ignoring his comment. 'I haven't been nice to you very often, have I?'

At this question, spoken in the voice of a mere child, and with that quivering note that seemed to beg for a negative answer, Rock smiled faintly and she suspected she would have received a very different reply had she been herself. As it was, he indulged her by saying, a distinct edge of gentleness to his voice,

'Don't think about it, Kim. It hasn't been all your fault by any means.'

'It was at first, when I trespassed on your land. Had I been gracious and owned to being at fault, then you wouldn't have adopted that officious manner and ordered me off.'

Rock had to smile.

'I fear your illness has taken all the fight out of you,' he said, 'and I'm not at all sure that I'm happy about the change.'

'I have to admit that I do feel weak still,' she owned, instantly wondering at the sheer spontaneity of this confession. It was as if she no longer wanted to spar with him ... ever.

'You are weak,' was Rock's serious rejoinder. 'Very weak, and you will be for some time yet, so you might as well become resigned. A fever always takes a great deal out of you. It also leaves you depressed; you must fight against this, Kim.'

'I'll try not to get depressed.'

'I hope so. Don't allow trivialities to take on an unnecessary importance.'

'I don't understand what you mean, Rock.' Her drowsiness was increasing and she was torn between the desire to go to sleep and the wish to continue talking to Rock.

'The aftermath of some illnesses is that the patient sees things far differently from what would normally be the case.'

'You're speaking generally, of course?'

'Of course. I'm not saying that you yourself will get things out of focus, but you might.'

'I see.' Kim fell silent a moment, aware that in her tiredness her thoughts were flitting about all over the place. 'Perhaps already I'm seeing things wrongly. I mean—Bart. I feel so troubled about him. You see ...' She let her voice fade away to silence, for Rock's expression had changed suddenly, becoming a fixed mask, as if his mood were detached. Kim had the idea that he was seeking for words. Seeking? A new experience for him, she thought, since always he had a swift answer to anything she had said.

'I do feel that you ought not to worry too much about Bart's retirement,' he said at last, the most odd inflection in his voice. 'It's natural for a man to retire when he feels his work is becoming too much for him to cope with.'

'Yes, I do understand.'

'He's written a good number of books, you know.'

'Twenty-nine.'

'So this will be his thirtieth. That's excellent.'

'I think so too. They're all good, you see.' Kim yawned, although she attempted to suppress the yawn. Rock noticed and fell silent. Kim yawned again, taking a hand from beneath the covers and putting it over her mouth. Rock immediately took hold of her hand and put it back, telling her sternly not to bring it out again.

'No ... I won't,' she murmured obediently. She wanted to sleep; it was imperative that she do so, as she was too spent to carry on the conversation any longer. She turned her head into the pillow, closing her eyes. Aware that Rock's gaze was on her, she felt an urge to pull up the blankets over her head, this in spite of the flood of perspiration that was already enveloping her whole body.

'I want to sleep,' was all she said, and she gave a little relaxed sigh.

When she awoke it was to find that Bart had taken Rock's place on the chair by the bedside cabinet. He was reading a page of his manuscript; she saw him make some alteration with a pencil, noticing that his hand was far from steady. In a vague sort of way it came to her that a dramatic change was about to take place in her life. What form that change was to take was something she could not envisage; in any case, the terrible weakness of her condition precluded any attempt at concentration.

'You're awake, love?' Bart smiled at her and she was struck by the fact that it was a happy smile ... a smile of intense satisfaction. She said, taking it for granted that his chapter had gone well, 'The book's coming on as you want it to?'

'I haven't done much to it,' was his admission. 'How are you feeling, Kim?'

'Much better. The worst is over, Rock was saying:'

'That's true. You're on the mend, but it'll be a week yet before you're fully recovered.'

Kim frowned and said, 'Surely I've not to stay in bed all that time?'

'We'll see what the doctor says tomorrow. He might let you get up for an hour or so.'

Rock came that evening, and sat with Kim. To her dismay Bart went from the room a few minutes after his arrival. Kim could not understand it, but she had a sudden aversion to being alone with Rock. He had become disturbing to her even before she was ill, and during her illness his presence had been felt in spite of the fact that she was in a state of semiconsciousness half the time. Earlier, when she and Rock had been in conversation, and he had been indulgent with her, she had known the sensation of being involved in a comradely relationship which now, when her mind was clearer, seemed dangerous, although for the life of her she could not have explained why.

'You're looking much better.' Rock's voice was gentle, his glance more kindly than she had ever seen it before.

'I feel much better. I shall ask the doctor if I can get up tomorrow for a few hours.'

Rock smiled at her, faintly amused.

'I rather think, my dear, that after half an hour you'll be asking to go back to bed.'

My dear ... She glanced at him, her nerves tingling, mystified by his attitude. Where was the cool appraisal so typical of those iron-hard grey eyes of his? What had happened to the thread of amused satire that characterised his voice? Where, in fact, was his contempt of

women? He was certainly not evincing it at this moment. On the contrary, it was something akin to admiration which she saw in his eyes.

'You—you are sure that I'll become—become tired within half an hour.' A statement, spoken in stammered confusion, simply because every nerve in her body was playing her up, the reaction of his manner, and of those two words which had come so unexpectedly to her ears.

My dear. On their own they might have meant nothing; combined with his expression they could mean a great deal...

Kim shook off the startling idea that had come to her, telling herself that, if Rock had been going to fall in love with her, then it certainly would not have been while she was ill, looking like a washed- out rag doll!

'Yes,' he was saying, 'I'm very sure you'll be tired within half an hour.'

'Have you had the fever, Rock?'

He nodded.

'I have indeed!' The way that was said told Kim that he had had a far more severe attack than hers had been.

'It's grim, isn't it?' She was speaking for the sake of it, her mind still confused because of that expression which was still there, and because of the tone of his voice, which was still gentle. What a change! True, he had been friendly during her illness, but this was more than friendship.

'It is grim,' he agreed. 'I can sympathise with you, Kim.' His smile came suddenly, erasing any hardness in his features. Kim was

receiving flashes of memory—the several times when her pulses had been affected by Rock's manner, the disquieting effect he had once had on her, when they were in the tea-shop. She recalled her feelings when he had danced with Ravella, the dejection she had known when he had smiled upon the girl. Then there was that unforgettable time when, as they were dancing, she had missed her step and he had caught her against him. Her heart had raced, so much so that she had felt sure that Rock could feel it. And, lastly, that interlude in the club gardens, when Rock had awakened in her emotions both new and exciting. 'What are you thinking about, Kim?' His voice, quiet and yet commanding, came to her, an intrusion that cut her reflections and brought her back to the present. She coloured and shook her head.

'I can't tell you,' she murmured. 'My thoughts are private.'

The grey eyes glimmered perceptively.

'Something to do with you and me,' he stated. 'Your eyes were full of memories.'

'They might have been memories of long ago,' was Kim's defensive rejoinder, but Rock was shaking his head.

'You weren't thinking about the distant past, dear. That is gone and it no longer comes clearly to you, for time erases -'

'Rock,' she broke in, half of her mind vividly retaining the word 'dear' which he had used, and the other half aware that she had indeed rambled while she was so very ill, 'you know about my parents, and about my fiancé?'

'Yes, Kim, I do. It wasn't Bart who told me, but you yourself.'

'I talked while I was ill?'

'That's right.' His face took on an expression that made her gasp, so tender and compassionate it became. 'You must have suffered dreadfully, and I now see the reason for that terrible look which I saw on one occasion.'

Kim nodded.

'The memory came back so clearly, in spite of what you've just said to the contrary.'

'But the memory faded almost immediately.' A statement which made Kim realise that there was a very understanding side to Rock's nature. He said, reverting to his previous question, 'You were thinking about me, weren't you, Kim?'

She nodded and at the same time averted her eyes. She had been sitting up in bed, but had slipped down gradually until she was now lying almost flat on her back.

'Yes, I was,' she replied, fully sensible that both her own words and Rock's were a prelude to something dramatically important.

'Of our—er—disagreements?' he said with a hint of that sardonic amusement which she knew so well.

'No, not that,' she returned, still avoiding his eyes. She was conscious of a feeling of heightened awareness of his presence, of an excitement born of this, of an expectation which left her breathless and tensed.

'What, then?' He rose as he spoke and added before she could answer, 'Do you want to sit up?'

'Yes, please.'

He came over her, lifting her up and supporting her with his arm while he rearranged the pillows.

'There—you can lean back now.'

'Thank you, Rock.' Confusion again, with an onrush of embarrassment caused by the nearness of him—the carved brown features of his face close to hers, the touch of his hands like an electric current shooting through her body ... the sudden desire that left her in no doubt whatsoever about her feelings for the man she had so recently detested.

'You were thinking of the nice times, weren't you?' he wanted to know. He sat down again, but his eyes remained on her flushed face. It was a cool unsmiling scrutiny he gave her, but for all that her heart leapt, the content of his question being all that mattered.

She said, meeting those grey eyes unflinchingly,

'Yes, Rock, I was thinking of the nice times.'

'There haven't been many,' he said, 'but I promise you, my dear Kim, that there will be plenty from now on.' For the briefest moment there was silence and then, 'Kim, will you marry me?'

'Marry ...' The one word was spoken with difficulty, repeated in tones of disbelief even though her heart was throbbing with joy. 'I—I don't know wh-what to say.' Why, for heaven's sake, did she feel like bursting into tears? It must be the weakness, the aftermath of the fever.

'Just say, my love, that you will be my wife.'

'Yes, I—I understand.'

Rock's brows shot up.

'How very romantic! However, you're not yourself, so it's my own fault if I don't get the starry- eyed response that would boost my ego, telling me that you adore me.' He was laughing at her and yet was serious, too, and profoundly tender as he added, 'Come, my little girl, and let me put you down again. Sleep is what you need after a conversation like this.' He removed two of the pillows and she slid down obediently, her eyes meeting his and her mouth curving in a tremulous smile.

'I didn't say that I loved you, did I?' Her shyness was still there, but she managed these words, marvelling at the steadiness of her voice.

'No, sweet, you didn't, but I had already assumed that much.'

She just had to ask,

'How did you know?'

'That you loved me? Well, there were several pointers, not least of which was the hair-do.'

'Hair-do?' she repeated, frowning in puzzlement.

'You intended having your hair cut short—very short, remember?'

She coloured delectably and said yes, she did remember.

'You said you thought it most attractive as it was.'

'And so you decided not to have it cut.' At the sheer satisfaction in his voice Kim was impelled to correct him by saying she had had a little cut off. But then she laughed at her foolishness, while Rock, lifting an eyebrow admonishingly, told her she would have to mend her ways—or else!

'Any sign of your starting one of our verbal skirmishes will result in your being put across your husband's knee and soundly spanked for your trouble.'

Kim, blushing with discomfiture, slid a little further down in the bed and drew up the cover.

'If you're intending to be a domineering husband -' she began, but was instantly interrupted by Rock's saying,

'That's exactly what I'm intending to be. Do you want to change your mind about marrying me?' His amusement was apparent and Kim laughed in spite of her tiredness.

'No, Rock,' she returned with well-feigned meekness, 'I don't want to change my mind.'

'So you're resigned to obeying my orders? So far so good. We shall begin at once. The light is going out and you'll sleep.' He crossed the room and pulled down the blind. A moment later he was by the bed, bending over her, his lips touching hers in a gentle tender kiss. 'Sleep well, my dearest. I shall be over in the morning.'

Kim called him bade as he reached the door, amazed that she could have forgotten about Bart.

The excitement, she supposed, plus the tiredness that had gradually been creeping over her.

'Rock, I can't marry you yet—not until Bart retires. You see, I swore never to leave him until he himself tells me he no longer needs me. I feel he's about to retire shortly, so you won't mind waiting, will you?'

'It's all right,' Rock reassured her. 'I've already spoken with Bart. He does intend to retire when this present book is finished.'

'I see -' Kim broke off, frowning. 'You and Bart have been discussing me, and the possibility of our —our marrying—should he retire?' She was recalling her impression on that day when Bart had asked Rock to go with him into the other room. Bart had something of vital importance to say to Rock, she had concluded, something which he did not want Kim to overhear. Her frown deepened. Something touched a chord that was out of harmony with this situation, but she could not have put her finger on it even had she been her own buoyant self.

'You put it in a strange way.' Rock's voice had changed; it was cool, as if he had to prevent her from asking any more questions. 'Bart and I have talked together. He told me of his intention to retire. I in turn informed him of my desire to make you my wife.' He paused, but not long enough for her to say anything. 'And now, my love, I want you to sleep, understand?'

Her frown faded, but a certain uneasiness remained. She managed a smile as she answered,

'Yes, Rock, I'll be very good and go to sleep right away.'

He nodded, that was all. Kim heard the door close, softly, and with the merest click of the handle. She turned on her side, trying to dismiss the vague doubts that jumbled about in her mind. That she wanted to marry Rock was an undisputed fact ... and yet why should this uneasiness persist? It was as if something was not quite right—a flaw which was too elusive to grasp.

'Oh, dear,' she sighed at last, 'it must be my condition. I shall be delirious with joy once I'm myself again.' And on that optimistic note she closed her eyes and drifted into a quiet, untroubled sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE news of the engagement spread rapidly and the congratulations poured in. But there was astonishment, naturally, since it was known that Rock had been a confirmed bachelor.

'I don't know how you've managed it,' said Susan, a distinct catch in her voice. 'I realise that's not very flattering, but you know I don't mean anything horrid?'

'Of course I know.' Kim was distressed on account of Susan's being hurt and her voice was low and faintly apologetic as she added, 'I don't quite know myself just how it happened.'

'It was while you were ill?'

'Yes, that's right.' She and Susan had met in town and were standing by the dress shop where Susan had bought the suit and blouse to go with it. 'Are you having a cup of tea?' Kim felt awkward, torn between the desire to make her excuses and hurry away, and the more preferable wish to remain with Susan, whom she liked enormously. 'We could have half an hour or so in the tea-shop.'

'Okay,' agreed Susan, and together they strolled along the palm-shaded road towards the cafe. 'When is the wedding to be?' asked Susan when once they were seated and the order given.

'Rock wants it to be soon.'

'Before Christmas?'

Kim nodded.

'Yes—in a couple of weeks, in fact.'

'My ... I But he's in a hurry!' Susan looked at Kim, examining her face, her eyes, her lovely hair. A sigh escaped her and for a moment her mouth trembled. 'So long a bachelor and then, right out of the blue, he falls in love! Well, we shan't see that fight he was supposed to put up,' she added, and managed a light laugh—a brave laugh, which, Kim knew, hid an aching heart.

Kim bit her lip, aware of shadows marring the path of perfect happiness. It wasn't just Susan's hurt, but also those doubts which so often assailed Kim herself. She remembered her courtship with Richard—the sheer delight of every single moment they were together. The racing heart when she knew he was coming over to spend an evening at her parents' house, the impatience for the actual wedding. But this time ... The wedding frightened her, somehow, but why she could not even begin to explain. She loved Rock, thrilling to the nearness of his hard body, responding to his passionate kisses. It was only when he was not with her that the doubts intruded, casting a dark shadow over her happiness. She felt cheated; felt she was not being given all that an engaged girl expected.

The tea was brought; the two girls chatted about the wedding, about Ravella, about Christmas. It was for the most part a pleasant interlude, but both girls were a trifle awkward with one another.

'Well,' said Susan at last as she glanced at her watch, 'I must be moving. I've to clean out the hencoop ready for some new pullets we're having.'

'Don't the boys do that sort of job?'

'Sometimes, but a short while ago I took on the poultry. Dad lets me have half the profits; he says I ought to be opening a banking account and saving for—for -' She broke off, but soon recovered herself sufficiently to add, 'For my marriage one day,'

Kim looked down and said nothing. The waitress brought the bill and soon the two girls were outside, under a clear blue African sky. Two black-faced men were standing close by, speaking in a flow of Afrikaans. Along the street several cars were parked beneath the shade of the pepper trees. Kim recognised one car as that belonging to the Steyn brothers, timber growers like Rock, but on a much smaller scale. Reserved and self-sufficient, they scarcely ever came to the club or joined in any of the functions put on for the entertainment of the far-flung farmers of this part of the Transvaal. Both were young, not yet thirty, and so it had seemed strange to Kim that they were so reluctant to socialise. While Kim and Susan stood there one of the brothers came up to the car and opened the door. He glanced along the street before getting into the car, saw the girls and lifted a hand in greeting.

'Those two are as determined to remain bachelors as Rock used to be,' said Susan with a faint grimace. 'I don't know which one's the most unapproachable, Jack or Clive.' - 'That's Clive, isn't it?'

'That's right; he's probably the most austere of the two.'

Susan and Kim parted then, Susan going to her car and Kim to the shops, Bart having asked her to fetch him some notebooks and other writing materials from the stationers. To her surprise she encountered Ravella, who was emerging from the shop.

'Hello,' greeted Kim. 'Have you seen Susan?'

'She's in town, I know, but I came in with Clive and Jack Steyn.'

'You did?' Kim could not conceal her astonishment as she added, 'You're very favoured.'

'I don't think so,' returned Ravella coldly. 'I went over to their place and asked them if they were coming into town and they said yes. They were delighted to give me a lift.'

'You could have come in with Susan,' Kim pointed out automatically.

'I wasn't intending to come, but I was bored after she had gone.' The girl had a sulky look about her as she subjected Kim to a rather detailed examination. 'You're engaged to Rock Linton, I hear?'

Kim nodded.

'Yes,' was her brief reply. Ravella had found Rock exciting, recalled Kim, and had to admit that he was!.

'I was led to believe that he had no time for women, but I knew differently. That sort is bound to fall in the end.'

Kim frowned darkly at her, silently reminding her of her lack of tact.

'I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me,' she said tersely. 'I've some shopping to do for my employer.'

Ravella shrugged her elegant shoulders.

'I expect you'll be at the dance on Saturday night?'

'Yes, most probably.'

'Cheerio, then.' Without waiting for any response Ravella turned, swinging her glorious hair, and walked away.

Bart was busy when Kim returned. She gave him the stationery, noting his drawn appearance and the lethargic manner in which he

leant back against the cushions. But he was writing, and seemed engrossed in what he was doing.

He looked up, then glanced at the parcel which Kim had placed on the table.

'Thank you, my dear.' His smile was slow and Kim caught her underlip between her teeth.

'Do you think you ought to finish this book?' she asked anxiously. 'Is it really necessary that you should?'

'It hasn't been promised, if that's what you mean. All the same, it will give me satisfaction to finish it. It's the last,' he added with a deep regretful sigh.

'What will you do, Bart?'

'Go home to England and live the life of a country gentleman.'

She thought of his home, a lovely old manor house with a thatch and black oak beams and grounds extending to over seven acres. A trout stream bordered his land on one side, a wooded copse on another.

'Rock and I will come to visit you,' she smiled.

'That would be nice.' He glanced away and she looked at his profile, wondering if he were trying to hide his expression from her or if the movement was merely automatic. She said in a troubled tone,

'Are you feeling ill, Bart?'

He turned again and a smile came swiftly.

'Ill? No, of course I'm not! Tired and ready for a long rest, but as for my being ill ...' He tailed off, shrugging lightly.

'If I thought you were ill, and needed me, I wouldn't get married yet.'

'No?' His brows lifted a fraction. 'And what makes you think you can play fast and loose with Rock? My child, he's not the man to pander to the whim of a mere female.'

She frowned at him.

'I shouldn't be playing fast and loose, but just being practical. As for your second sentence—you sound like Rock himself.'

'Masterful and no nonsense, eh?' He was laughing now and a wave of relief swept over Kim. This was more like the Bart she had known for over eight years.

'The tablets you're taking, Bart. You never did tell me what they were for.'

'They're just a general pick-me-up,' he replied casually, taking up his pencil from where he had laid it on the table at his elbow. 'I feel better for taking them,' he added in the same casual tone.

'I'll make some tea,' she said, turning to the kitchen. Since coming to him she had made the afternoon tea, the housekeeper never resenting this. Bart looked forward to the break, and the interlude of chatty intimacy which it afforded. It was at times like these that it was strongly brought home to Kim that she was regarded more as a daughter than an employee.

'Is Rock coming over this evening?' Bart was asking when, ten minutes later, he and Kim were on the stoep, taking their tea beneath the shade of the vines. Outside, away from the gardens, the veld quivered in the brittle light from the sun's rays, for this was the time of the year when the heat was on the increase. Rock had said that on

Christmas Day they might be sweltering in a temperature of a hundred and ten or more!

'Yes, I expect so,' answered Kim, once again recalling the tremulous excitement she had felt when her former fiancé had been coming over to visit her. She sighed for what she was missing, even while unable to say exactly what was missing. All she knew was that the thrill of expectancy was absent. Rock was coming over and that was that. No fluttering of her heart, no visions of a stroll in the moonlit garden ... Again she sighed, dismay showing on her face as she realised that Bart had heard the sigh and was looking interrogatingly at her. She sipped her tea, saying nothing.

'You're not all joy, my dear,' observed Bart with some anxiety. 'What's wrong?'

She smiled faintly and said without thinking,

'Both of us are worrying about the other, aren't we?'

'I fail to see why you should worry about me, Kim.'

She put her cup back on its saucer.

'You're not yourself these days—and you know it.'

'I'm tired, love. Haven't I been saying so for the past few weeks? One does become tired at my age, and work becomes a chore.'

'I never thought that work would become a chore to you,' she said gravely.

'You forget how old I am, my dear.' Bart glanced at the plate of pastries and chose a plain rice cake. 'I'm seventy-one in a couple of months' time, you know.'

She had forgotten; he was always so young in his ways, so youthful in his carriage, and with incredible energy. Lately, though, there had been this change, and she should have remembered that seventy is not young at all.

'So, really, you deserve a rest,' she owned, smiling affectionately at him. 'I must admit I hadn't even thought about your age when 1 worried about your retiring.'

'And now, have I convinced you that I'm not unwell, but only tired?'

She nodded and a more cheerful light entered her eyes.

'Yes, pet, you have.'

'Good.' He cut into the cake, then used his fork to transfer a piece to his mouth. 'Perhaps we can talk about your wedding. Rock tells me he doesn't want to wait for any appreciable length of time, and I agree with him that there's nothing to be gained by a delay.' He was looking at her, taking in the lovely contours of her face, the rather tremulous way her mouth moved, the deep blue of her eyes. 'I'm sure that you yourself have no desire to wait,' he added with a twinkle of his light grey eyes.

'No ...' Kim swallowed hard, unable to ignore the warning within her that kept on intruding into her consciousness. 'No, I suppose n-not.'

He frowned at her.

'I've just remarked that you're not all joy, Kim. Surely you're in love with Rock?'

'Oh, yes!' The answer came spontaneously and her eyes suddenly shone. 'Of course I love him. Otherwise I wouldn't be marrying him, would I?'

'Then what is the matter?' he persisted, his eyes never leaving her face. 'You should be on top of the world, but you're not.'

'I don't know,' she sighed. 'Perhaps it's because I don't want to leave you.'

'I shall be all right,' Bart assured her. 'It's you who matters most at the present time. I'm desperately anxious to see you settled -' He cut his words abruptly, angry with himself for saying what was in his mind and not what he really wanted to say. Kim, her nerves alert, knew once again that sensation of something alien barring her way to happiness.

'That's a strange thing to say, Bart,' she managed at length. Her eyes were on his face; she saw that he was not at all comfortable, that he regretted what he had said. And when he spoke it was plain that he was covering up.

'A slip of the tongue, dear—speaking about one thing when my mind was on another -'

'Another?'

'The book. I ought to include more than one chapter on insects.'

Kim looked hard at him, not surprised when he lowered his eyes and began to play around with the few cake crumbs left on his plate.

Desperately anxious ... Kim wondered if she was reading more into that than she should. She was reminded of Rock's saying that she should make sure that the things which she looked upon as important really were important. Rock had also warned her that the aftermath of some illnesses was that the patient saw things in the wrong perspective. Was she doing just this? And was her depression also the result of her illness? The fever had taken a great deal out of her, just

as Rock had told her it would, and he had warned her that she would have to fight against depression. She realised that she had made no attempt to fight against the depression which she knew was there, especially when her marriage was mentioned.

She looked at Bart, and the words 'desperately anxious' rose up before her again. There was no doubt that he had been uncomfortable after voicing them, but now that she thought more about it she did admit that she could be taking them far too seriously. She lifted her cup and drank, determined to fight the depression and to hope that she would succeed.

Rock arrived for a sundowner. Clad in an off-white jacket and navy blue linen slacks, he looked the model of masculine perfection and Kim felt her heart lift with the sheer pleasure of having him want her for his wife. How lucky she was! So much admired, he had been, so much sought after by the young women around Tengaville. And she was the one who had melted him; she was the girl he had at last fallen in love with. It seemed like a miracle— it was a miracle!

'You're looking much more yourself, my love,' were his first remarks as he took possession of a chair opposite to her. She had been reading over part of the manuscript, while Bart had been taking a bath and changing into something more formal than his old slacks and cotton sweater. He was still in his room and so Kim and Rock were alone for a few moments. Rock had bent to kiss her before sitting down and Kim could still feel the pressure of those hard lips on hers. 'Obviously you're feeling better.'

She nodded and smiled.

'I'm almost myself, but not quite.'

'Still weak?' He inclined his head, answering his own question. 'It's all part of the fever. I said you'd feel weak for some time, didn't I?'

'Yes, and you were right. However, it's only occasionally that I feel weak—it affects my legs, mostly.'

'We'll be married soon and I can take good care of you.' His voice was tender, matching the light in his eyes. 'I've spoken to Bart about the book and we've agreed that you'll come over here each day and work for him until it's finished. Is that okay with you?'

'Yes; I couldn't leave him, as you know.'

'I never expected you to, Kim.' He rose as he spoke and, reaching down, pulled Kim gently to her feet. 'I must kiss you again, even with the risk of Bart's coming in on us.'

Tinglings of pleasure curved along her spine as he took her in his arms. Nothing mattered but this moment of bliss, she thought as she lifted her face, offering him her lips. He took them, gently, then possessively and with a sort of primitive passion that set her heart racing and the blood pulsing through her veins. This was love! Primeval as the land itself! Kim gave herself up entirely to the ardour of her lover, and she felt that, had they been in some quiet and private place, then more than kisses would have resulted from this fire that consumed them both.

She was breathless when eventually he released her, holding her at arms' length and looking into her eyes, eyes cloudy with passion still unspent.

He smiled and said, caring nothing for any embarrassment he might be causing her,

'Desire's written all over your face, my love, and in those beautiful eyes of yours. Sweetheart, I must have you right away. I told you I wouldn't wait, but I noticed that you avoided—by some adroit manoeuvre which escaped me at the time—giving me a definite date for our wedding. I want it now,' he added, an imperious edge to his voice.

She gave him a tremulous smile. All her doubts had fled; she wanted only to be with him, in his arms, lost in the ecstasy of his lovemaking.

'I'll be ready just whenever you want me to,' she told him happily. Then she added, on a note of shy hesitancy, 'You did say—er—before Christmas.'

'Indeed yes, most certainly before Christmas. There's a dressmaker in Tengaville, I believe, who will oblige by rushing a wedding dress through for you?'

'There is a dressmaker, yes.'

'Go and see her tomorrow morning -' Rock broke off as Bart, giving a rather loud cough, pushed open the door and entered the room. 'Hello, how are you, Bart?'

'Feeling up to the sundowners,' he answered, his observant glance taking in Kim's heightened colour and the way her fingers were moving together as if in a little nervous gesture. His eyes went to Rock and he noted the contrast. Cool, suave, and in full command of his emotions, he was standing apart from his fiancee, a lithe and impressive Afrikaner with tough bronzed features and an air of self-confidence that bordered very close to arrogance. Kim saw Bart frown and swallow something that seemed to have stuck in his throat. With a little shock of surprise Kim sensed an uneasiness about him ... as if he were saying to himself,

'Will my little girl be all right with such a man as this?'

They all went out to the stoep and the drinks were brought out by Sadie, the African girl who had come to Bart along with the house. She was so efficient and clean, the owners had said, that they could not think of letting her go. If Bart did not want Sadie, then he could not have the house. She was a happy girl with a ready smile and a most attractive way of saying 'Ja, baas.'

'Thank you, Sadie,' said Bart graciously when she put the tray on to the table.

'Mr Linton—he will stay for dinner?'

He had come for a sundowner only, but when Bart invited him to stay to dinner he said yes, he would be happy to do so.

'Perhaps your houseboy would go over to Lusaka and tell my boy that I won't be in?'

'Of course, Rock,' replied Bart obligingly. 'I'll get him to go over right away. Sadie, send Njorogi to me, please.'

The boy came at once and was given the message to convey to Rock's houseboy. Kim, happy that Rock was staying, excused herself after a while and went inside to change. She put on a coral-coloured linen skirt with lacing at the waist, and a blouse of crisp white cotton, open at the throat to reveal a pretty gold chain and locket. Her sandals were white—just a few straps, revealing her dainty brown toes. She used her perfume sparingly and was happy at the result. Rock had already remarked on it, at the club dance one night.

'What's it called?' he wanted to know.

'Gay,' she had answered briefly, and Rock's brows had risen. He said, filling her with surprise at his knowledge,

'Reputed to be the most expensive perfume in the world, I think?'

'That's right.' And she had immediately added, 'Bart bought it for me. I was amazed to find it here, in a shop in Tengaville.'

'I'm amazed too.. But one never can tell in our town. Quite often we find things which surprise us.'

'How did you know it was the most expensive perfume in the world?' she asked later as the idea returned to her.

'I expect I read it somewhere—in some glossy magazine, most probably.'

'I can't imagine you reading glossy magazines.'

'Men do sometimes pick one up—just to see what the women like.' Kim remembered there was a time when his voice would have been caustic when he spoke of women. She had wondered if he still considered their place was at the back of the house —at the sink, as Linda had put it. Well, thought Kim as she took one last look at herself in the mirror before returning to the two men taking their sundowners, Rock didn't think that now. Love changes a man, and it had certainly wrought a dramatic change in Rock.

His appreciative eyes settled on her as she sat down and was given a drink by Bart.

'You look very sweet,' he said with a smile, and Kim felt the colour rise to tint her cheeks.

'Thank you,' she murmured, feeling shy all at once, and a little gauche.

Bart, aware of her embarrassment, spoke into the silence following her words.

'Have you fixed the wedding date yet?' His glance went from one to the other. 'I hope, Kim dear, that you're intending to be conventional and dress in white?'

'Yes, of course I am.' Her glance flickered towards her fiancé, but her heart and mind were, fleetingly, for a different man. Richard who had died so tragically at the age of twenty-four. Sadness touched the beauty of her eyes but was gone almost instantly.

'I think in about a fortnight's time,' said Rock coolly.

Kim started, then smiled.

'That doesn't give me long,' she said, but there was no hint of protest in her voice and Rock's mouth curved in amusement.

'Shall we say a fortnight today, then?' he suggested, ignoring what she had said.

'That would be fine,' agreed Bart. 'Three days before Christmas.'

'We shall give a party such as they've never known around these parts before.' Rock went on to say that he little knew, when he asked her to decorate a tree for him, that she would be his wife before that happened.

'Well, you did have such quarrels,' mused Bart.

'Not quarrels,' said Rock. 'Merely skirmishes— with tongues as weapons, I'll admit. But they weren't anything serious, were they, Kim?'

'Not serious enough to have any after-effects. I always wanted to see you in a temper,' she added reflectively.

'In a temper, why?'

'You once said that women revealed their inferiority when they got into a temper, and I asked if you ever lost yours. You said never, and so I naturally wanted to prove you wrong.'

'I see.' He seemed amused, but when next he spoke there was something in his tone that caused a tiny shiver to run along Kim's spine. 'I wouldn't advise you to try and get me to lose my temper, Kim, because, without any doubt at all, you'll regret it.'

Bart blinked at him, then laughed.

'That kind of a joke's liable to frighten the child,' he admonished.

Kim found herself producing a laugh ... but she knew for sure that Rock had not been joking at all, knew that if ever she did see him in a temper it would be an experience she would never want to go through again.

After dinner Bart excused himself, saying he wanted to go over some of the pages of his notes. Rock and Kim went outside, into the mothy darkness of the gardens. He took her hand and she thrilled to his touch. It was a soft and haunting night, with scents of flowers all around them, and the sound of cicadas on the air. Moonlight slanted its glittering shafts of silver through the palms to paint a moving mosaic on the dark velvet of the lawn. Rock stopped beneath a tamarisk tree and took her in his arms. She came close eagerly and offered him her lips. His mouth was hard, demanding, possessive. She had no defence when her lips were forced open under the insistent pressure of his, no power to prevent his cupping her breast within his hand, nor to stay his mouth when it sought her curves.

'Kim ... how desirable you are ..His voice was low, and hoarse with suppressed ardour, his embrace cruel in its unbridled strength. 'A fortnight! God, I want you before then!'

She tried to drag herself away, frightened by his words. But she was like a child against a giant and she soon gave up the struggle. But she did manage to say, when for a moment he took his lips from hers, 'Rock, please ... you're hurting me.'

'Darling!' Tenderness in his voice now, and his hold on her slender frame slackened a little. She gulped in the air, every nerve in her body affected by her heightened emotions. 'I'm sorry, sweetheart.' He bent to kiss her trembling lips, and there was a sort of reverence in the act.

He released her at last, but held her hand in his. They wandered across the lawn, silent and thoughtful. Kim had no doubts any more; she felt she had conquered her depression and that it would not now return. Rock's fingers were passing over the back of her hand, so gently, and his profile in the moonlight was softer than she had ever seen it before.

'Are you as happy as I am?' Rock stopped again as they reached the southern edge of Bart's garden. Beyond was the dry river bed, bordered by acacia and tamarind trees, and farther on still was the scrubby bushveld, savage and remote beneath the starlit dome of the African sky. So still, so silent, so vast and primitive. Kim pressed close to her lover as if for protection. 'No, my beloved,' he said softly, his lips against her perfumed hair, 'you can't possibly be as happy as I am.'

How did one measure happiness? It either filled one's being utterly, or it was not there at all.

'I'm bursting with happiness,' she murmured, but then laughed in response to Rock's own light crack of laughter. 'It wasn't very romantic, was it?'

'Most unromantic, my love. I shall expect you to do much better than that!'

'I suppose I meant that my heart was overflowing with happiness,' she said.

'Tell me, sweet, have you been thinking of that other engagement?'

She nodded instantly.

'This evening it came to me and I did think of Richard for a moment.' Her lovely eyes, lit by the moon and the stars, met his unflinchingly. She did not expect reproach; she did not encounter any. 'You didn't mind, did you?'

He shook his head, a smile of reassurance on his lips.

'No, my dearest, I didn't mind. It was natural for you to think of him at this time.'

'I can't bring his features into focus,' she told him rather sadly. 'Nor those of my parents. I have photographs of my parents, though.'

'I'd like to see them,' he said, and she felt a little access of pleasure at his request.

'Of course you shall see them. My parents were wonderful people, Rock.'

He looked down into her lovely face.

'They must have been,' he returned quietly.

'They were young. Mother was only thirty-nine and Father forty-two.'

He frowned and drew a breath.

'What a terrible time it must have been for you.'

'Bart came into my life like the answer to a prayer, that's why I care for him so much. He's been like a father to me.'

'That's certainly true. He loves you, Kim.'

'Yes, I know.'

Rock seemed to give a great sigh—a shuddering sigh that was totally out of keeping with his inordinate masculine strength.

'Come, sweet, we must go back,' he said.

'Rock ... what's the matter?'

'Matter? What makes you ask that, my love?' He spoke lightly, with a smile upon his face. Kim responded, telling herself that she had imagined that sigh.

'It's nothing,' she returned, adopting his own light tone. 'Oh, but I love you!' she added huskily.

'And I you.' His grip on her hand tightened and she felt safe ... very safe and secure.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE wedding reception, held at the club, was coming to its end. Kim and Rock, their honeymoon delayed owing to their desire to be at home for Christmas, were ready to leave for Lusaka, and the quietness and privacy which would mark the close of their wedding day. Kim, radiant in flowing white, had been attended by Susan and Linda. She had never thought of asking Susan to be a bridesmaid, but the girl herself had suggested it.

'It's obvious that you haven't any close friends here, Kim,' she had said. 'So if you would like me to be of any assistance, then don't hesitate to call upon me.'

Kim, amazed, had said without thinking,

'You wouldn't mind being my bridesmaid, then?'

Susan had replied,

'I expect you, like so many others, have guessed that I was keen on Rock. However, I always knew he wasn't for me. Yes, Kim, I'd love to be your bridesmaid.'

And one of the groomsmen was Clive Steyn.

'Did you notice how interested Clive became in Susan?' Kim was asking her husband as they drove home from the reception, having left the guests to have their last dance or two.

'I had eyes only for my lovely bride,' was Rock's gallant reply. 'No, sweet, I didn't notice that Clive was particularly interested in Susan. Don't harbour any match-making ideas in that quarter; Clive's a confirmed bachelor.'

'So were you,' Kim could not help reminding him.

'Good lord,' he exclaimed with mock surprise, 'so I was!'

'I think Clive and Susan would be very well suited.'

'Now, now, heed what I've just said. Clive's not the marrying kind.'

'Why?'

'Why?' repeated her husband, slanting her a glance as he took his eyes off the moonlit road for a space. 'How should I know why?'

'You made the statement, so you ought to be able to explain it.'

'Girl,' said Rock in a very soft tone, 'are you trying to draw me into a verbal punch-up?'

She laughed gaily.

'Not tonight, dearest Rock!'

After a small silence he asked,

'Are you blushing, my love?'

'Certainly not!'

'Don't believe you!'

'Rock,' she said quietly, 'are you trying to draw me into a verbal punch-up?'

'Remind me to beat you immediately we get in,' he said.

'To get back to Susan and Clive,' she began. 'He's awfully nice when you get to know him. A little shy, but -'

'And when, might I ask, did you get to know him?'

'He's a friend of yours, otherwise you wouldn't have asked him to be a groomsman.'

'You haven't answered my question.' Rock swerved to miss a great rut in the road which suddenly showed up in his headlights.

'I don't know him, not really. I talked to him today, though, and he seemed charming. I don't believe he's a confirmed bachelor; I feel he's shy and a little unsure of himself.'

'Perhaps you're right, my dear.'

'Isn't it a beautiful night? Just look at that enormous moon—racing along in the sky.'

'An African moon ... romantic. A moon for lovers. We shan't draw the curtains tonight; we'll make love by the light of the moon.'

Kim swallowed hard, acutely aware of her heightened colour. She could not speak for the emotion that filled her, and so the rest of the journey was one of silence, which was broken only when Rock, picking up his bride after helping her from the car, said softly as he carried her over the threshold,

'My wish for you, my dearest love, is happiness for ever.'

Kim made no reply; she was too full to speak, just as she had been a few minutes earlier, in the car. Rock carried her through the hall, putting her down only when they were in their room, a very lovely room which had been decorated and refurnished with a speed which left both Kim and Bart gasping. How Rock had managed to have such beautiful furniture delivered from Johannesburg in so short a time seemed like a miracle.

'Kim ...' Rock held her at arms' length and feasted his eyes on her delectable figure. 'No bride has ever looked more beautiful.' And he swung her into his arms, crushing her lips in a kiss of passionate possession. His hand came to her back, after a while, and she felt the sliding of the zip fastener as his fingers drew it down, from neck to below her slender waist. The dress billowed out as it fell to the floor. 'My dearest love,' he murmured, his lips on her scented hair. 'At last the moment has come when I can make you my own.' Low his voice, and hoarse with desire. Kim, pressing close to his body, put both her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

'Thank you for loving me, dearest Rock,' she whispered, her own voice husky with emotion. 'It's still a matter of wonderment to me that you should.' She buried her face against his breast, and felt the rapid beating of his heart, the strength of his arms about her, the vibrant quiver of his body that was the prelude to the ecstasy of desire fulfilled.

Christmas Day came up to Kim's expectations, and more. She and Rock rose early, had breakfast on the stoep and then drove the short distance to Katania Lodge, where they picked up Bart and brought him to Lusaka. Rock had made the rather charming suggestion that they all three should take their presents from the tree and open them together. The idea, appealing to Kim as it did, filled her with an added warmth towards her husband for his infinite understanding. He knew instinctively that she would want Bart to be included in the excitement of opening presents.

'What a delightful sight!' exclaimed Bart on seeing the tree. 'Kim, my love, you've excelled yourself this year!'

'A drink while we open our presents,' said Rock, moving over to the cocktail cabinet. 'Kim—sherry? Bart?'

'The same, Rock, please.' Bart was happy; he looked well, and young again. Kim felt her cup of happiness was full to the very brim.

'Bart, your presents are here, with the angel watching over them,' she added with a laugh. He accepted his drink from Rock, sipped it, then put it down on a small table. Moving over to the tree, he began untying the bright red ribbon with which Kim had fixed one of the parcels to the tree, while she herself untied a much smaller parcel.

There followed an interlude of exclamations, and of thanks, Kim having an exquisite little fob watch from Bart, complete with gold chain to match, and which he had obviously bought in England, and a gold bracelet from Rock, along with earrings and a matching pendant. She had bought Bart a jade figure of a dancing girl which he had admired once when he and she were having a week in London, and his surprise on receiving it was a delight to see. From Rock he received a book he had wanted, while his present to Rock was a diary in embossed leather. Rock's present from Kim was two cut-glass liqueur decanters, antiques, which she had surprisingly found in a dusty little shop in a back street in Tengaville. She had washed and polished them, so that the glass and the silver trims below the stoppers shone like new. Rock was delighted with them, but no more so than Kim had been in discovering them, because she had had no idea what to buy her husband, as he seemed to have everything.

He had arranged for them to have lunch on the river, on a launch he owned. Two of Bart's friends, bachelors who would have been on their own, were invited, and that was all. So it was a quiet lunch, taken as the launch drifted peacefully along the river, under the clear blue sky, but often shaded by overhanging trees, so that the sun's fierce rays did not disturb the five people on board. Kim, her happiness revealed in her shining eyes, knew she would remember this day for the rest of her life. The peaceful stream, the smells of lush vegetation growing along its banks, the vivid colours of orchids clinging to the branches of the trees, the soft music of carols floating

on the air from Rock's tape-recorder. All these combined to produce a vision which Kim would cherish for ever. It was sheer bliss! She wished she could make it go on and on, but of course it could not, as Rock was giving a dinner party that evening and Kim herself wanted to supervise the laying of the table, the arranging of flowers and lights, the place sittings.

'My beloved,' Rock was saying much later when the last of their guests had left and he and Kim were on the step, watching red tail lights disappearing round the curve of the drive, 'have you had as wonderful day as I have?'

A happy little laugh escaped her.

'It was wonderful!' she replied. 'Bart was so happy. Did you notice that he looked younger than ever?'

Contrary to her expectations Rock's answer did not come instantly. In fact, there seemed to be an unnecessary length to the pause which ensued before he said, an unfathomable inflection in his voice,

'He did look extraordinarily well, my dear, and happy, as you say.'

Kim looked into his face, twisting in the circle of his arm in order to do so.

'Is anything wrong?' she asked, troubled without knowing why.

'Wrong?' His arm tightened about her, protectively. 'No, sweet, why do you ask such absurd questions? Come, let's have our last drink before we call it a day!'

The following evening there was the ball at the club. Ravella, who had decided to stay on for Christmas, was as always the star, with her

glittering lurex-gown, her jewels, her dazzling smile and vivacious manner. However, she was not at all pleasant with Kim when, Rock having gone off to get drinks for himself and Kim, she sauntered up to her and said,

'Did you have a nice Christmas Day? You'd have to have your employer with you, I suppose? I wouldn't like that on my honeymoon.'

Kim, angry but controlled, replied that she and Rock were having their honeymoon later, when the Christmas festivities were over.

'Did you have a pleasant Christmas Day?' she asked, determined to remain polite.

'Not bad at all. We were invited to dinner at the Steyn brothers' house—just Susan and I, that was.'

'You were?' Kim's expression was one of amazement. 'I thought they never entertained.'

'Clive's gone all keen on Susan,' was the simple explanation which Ravella gave.

'Oh...'

Ravella glanced at her curiously.

'What does "oh" mean?'

Kim shrugged her shoulders.

'Nothing—nothing at all.'

'I believe you're delighted that Clive likes Susan.'

'Perhaps I am,' admitted Kim a trifle impatiently. She glanced around, wishing Rock would appear with the drinks.

'They're not at all suited, just as you and -' She stopped, but Kim with swift perception knew that the girl had meant Kim to be aware of what she had intended saying. A little gasp had escaped Kim at the sheer bad manners of Ravella, but before she had time to say anything her husband came up and handed her her glass. His eyes wandered to the lovely golden girl at her side and he smiled.

'Can I get you a drink, Ravella?' he asked politely.

'No, thank you,' replied Ravella coolly, and moved away.

Kim glanced at her husband, finding she was hurt by what Ravella had meant—that she, Kim, and Rock were not suited. It was absurd to take any notice of the girl, but Kim was suddenly aware of those misgivings again, those doubts which had been with her after her illness, and which she put down to the depression of which Rock had spoken.

'Did I tell you, my sweet, that you looked ravishingly beautiful?' Rock's voice to her ear, tender, quiet and reassuring. 'That colour becomes you— it's lavender, isn't it?'

'Lilac,' she smiled.

'Come,' he said after a space, 'let's join Susan and Clive. I'm beginning to wonder if that fellow's going to take a leaf out of my book and find himself a delectable little wife.'

'I'd love to be able to say "I told you so",' laughed Kim.

'I'll bet you would—wretch!'

To Kim's surprise Ravella joined them almost immediately, and her mood of a few moments ago might never have occurred, so charming was she now, as she shone up at Rock and said,

'Is that offer of a drink still on? I ought to have accepted it.'

'What would you like?' he asked with a sort of cool affability.

'Oh ... just a dry sherry, please.' She turned to Clive, and shone up at him, fluttering her lashes and swinging that golden hair, catching a few strands between her long, elegant fingers. Kim glanced at her nails; they were like something out of an advertisement for nail varnish—perfect. 'Clive, you haven't danced with me yet,' she purred. 'What have I done to you?'

Susan frowned, and glanced at Kim. Clive looked almost ready to turn and leave the three girls to chat among themselves. However, he obviously remembered that Ravella was Susan's guest, so he replied politely,

'I must rectify the omission, Er—perhaps you'll have the next dance with me?'

'Of course. Come along, the music's striking up now.'

'I wish she'd go home!' exclaimed Susan irritably. 'She's beginning to pall.' She stopped, then added, 'That wasn't very nice of me, I know, but I feel I can speak my mind with you, Kim.'

'When is she going home?' asked Kim.

'Heaven knows! I've an idea she's setting her cap at Clive.'

'Oh, no!' The exclamation was out before Kim had time to realise just how tactless it was. Susan said resignedly, 'Yes, that'll be two I've liked and didn't get. Third time lucky.'

'Don't, Susan,' cried Kim in distress.

'Sorry. As I said when I offered to be your bridesmaid, Rock was never for me. Clive I'd never thought of until recently, when he began talking to me, and I'm sure he came here tonight to see me, because as you know he has never come to these dances before.'

'Not even at Christmas?'

'No, not even at Christmas.' Susan stopped abruptly, and flicked a hand. 'Rock doesn't seem to be bothering about Ravella's drink; he's in earnest conversation with Mr Nash.'

Kim twisted around. Bart and Rock were at the bar and, as Susan had said, they appeared to be in earnest conversation.

'They do have a great deal in common,' said Kim. 'I feel sure Rock is going to feel the wrench when Bart leaves.'

'He's retiring, I hear?'

'That's right. He'll be living the life of the country squire very soon.'

'He'll be on his own entirely?'

'Yes,' returned Kim rather sadly. 'He hasn't any relatives that I know of. But he does have an excellent housekeeper who fusses over him, so he'll be quite all right.'

'I expect you and Rock will go over and visit him periodically?'

'Of course we shall.'

'I'd like to visit England myself one day -

What on earth is Ravella doing? I know it sounds crazy, but she looks as if she's eavesdropping!'

'She was dancing -'

'Well, she isn't dancing now.'

Kim turned, then stared in disbelief. For there was Ravella, standing very close to Rock and Bart, apparently totally lost in what she was overhearing. Her head was cocked to one side; she seemed oblivious of anyone else near, or of the fact that she might be the object of surprised interest, because of what she was doing.

'She must have decided to go to the bar for her drink,' murmured Kim with a frown. 'How strange that she should be listening.' Both men had their backs to the girl, Kim noticed.

'It must be something darned interesting,' rejoined Susan with a sudden grin. 'You know what men's talk can be!'

Kim coloured slightly.

'I don't think either Bart or Rock would—er— talk about anything that wasn't nice,' she protested, and Susan gave a little crack of laughter.

'Sorry to say this, Kim, but you're a bit naive, you know. Rock and Bart are no different from other men when it comes to the telling of smutty jokes.'

Kim shook her head in protest, her eyes focused on Ravella, who was still absorbed in taking in what the two men were saying. Clive, coming up to Susan, brought Kim's attention from Ravella's present activity, but she asked Clive how it was that they had left the dance floor.

'Ravella became thirsty all at once and went over to the bar for a drink. I'd have gone with her, but John Peterson stopped me and I've been talking to him.' He glanced towards the bar. 'She's there; I expect Rock's getting her her drink.'

Kim saw the men move, saw Ravella actually dart away, then turn and come casually up to them, a disarming smile on her lips. She spoke; Rock seemed to apologise and the next moment he was handing her a glass. It was a long drink she was having, not the dry sherry she had at first asked for.

Rock returned, while Bart stayed at the bar, chatting with one of his friends who had just come up to him.

'Shall we dance?' smiled Rock, taking his wife's hand in his as he spoke. Kim, responding to his smile, felt a tingling of unease on encountering Ravella's eyes. The girl seemed to be staring at Kim with an expression of triumph.

'Something wrong, my love?' from Rock as he noticed his wife's troubled gaze.

'Er—no…'

'You don't sound too sure?' He was holding her, ready to step on to the floor. 'What's the matter?'

'Nothing.' She felt rather foolish, not being able to tell herself what was wrong, much less her husband. She could scarcely tell him that she didn't care for Ravella's expression!

It was at the supper table that Kim noticed the very determined manner in which Ravella tried to attract Rock's attention. It seemed unbelievable, but the girl was actually flirting with him.

Rock himself noticed; it was impossible that he could miss the girl's deliberate advances. He was puzzled, as were Susan and Clive, who were sitting on the opposite side of the long table. Ravella was on one side of Rock, Kim on the other, and every time he attempted to talk to his wife Ravella would intervene with some remark which necessitated an answer. Kim, for the first time experiencing jealousy, became unreasonably angry with Rock and eventually engaged herself in conversation with Val, who was on the other side of her. That Val had experienced a shock on hearing of the engagement went without saying, but of course he admitted that there never had been any real tie between Kim and himself. They had liked one another, but their relationship had never progressed any further than that—although Val would very much have liked it to.

Now, he was only too happy to chat with Kim, unaware of her inner feelings, and that she herself was far from happy.

When eventually the supper was over Kim, on some impulse she could not control, slipped away and went outside, into the gardens. All her recent fears returned; her mind seemed to be full of misgivings. She wandered on, into the dark places, scarcely able to appreciate her surroundings—the swaying palms through which the starlight filtered, the dark silhouette of the mountains, with a crescent moon hanging above, the scented breeze drifting gently from across the drowsy silent bushveld. Suddenly she stiffened, hearing voices on the other side of the grenadilla hedge by which she was walking. Susan and Ravella ...

'I knew you were listening to the conversation between Rock and Mr Nash, but I had no idea you were learning all this.' It was Susan's voice. And before Kim could move on she was speaking again. 'So Mr Nash has only a few months to live?'

A few months 1 Kim's heart gave a great lurch and she could not have moved now even had she wanted to, as her legs were ready to

give way beneath her. She knew her face was white, her nerves chaotic. Bart..'. the man who had been a father to her—yes, both father and mother—

'His heart. The doctor told him he'd not long to live, so he became desperate to have Kim settled.' Ravella's voice was almost harsh. 'Mr Nash was thanking Rock for agreeing to marry Kim. I gathered that Mr Nash had begged him to marry her, so he obliged -'

'I can't think that Rock would go that far merely to oblige a friend,' interrupted Susan, whose voice was so very different in tone from that of Ravella. It was anxious, compassionate, distressed all in one. 'He must love her 1'

'No such thing 1 I know what I overheard, Susan. Mr Nash was saying that Kim must never know that he had asked Rock to marry her, and so secure her future. He could leave her money, Mr Nash said, but he didn't count that as security. She needed someone to look after her, and Mr Nash was effusive in his thanks.'

'How did Rock react to these effusive thanks?' A strange little silence followed. Even in her distracted state Kim had the impression that Ravella was listening, that she could even have been peeping through the hedge. Absurd impression! Ravella was already speaking again.

'Rock said he didn't really need Mr Nash's thanks. It had been in his mind for some time that he must marry, just to have an heir, and he said that Kim would do as well as any other girl.'

Sword points of agony shot through Kim's head. She would do as well as any other girl... She meant nothing to her husband; her function was to produce an heir for him. So many flashes of memory came to her and made sense of all she had overheard from Ravella. Bart's use of the word 'desperately' when he said he was anxious to see her settled; the occasion when he had taken Rock into another

room to speak privately with him. Rock's words to Kim that she must not trouble herself too much about Bart's retirement.

And there were Kim's own misgivings, originating, she now knew, from that time when she had asked Rock if he and Bart had been discussing the possibility of their marrying, should Bart retire. Something had touched a chord that was out of harmony with the situation, a situation where Rock had just asked Kim to marry him. Kim saw now that Rock and Bart had had more than one discussion on the subject; she believed that, at first, Rock was in all probability reluctant to marry her but, later, he became resigned, feeling that he was not only putting his friend's mind at rest, but achieving his own desire too, which was to marry for the sake of procuring an heir. The tenderness portrayed by Rock did strike Kim at this moment, but she dismissed it as of no importance. An act, which he naturally had to put on; he had to convince Kim that he was in love with her, otherwise she would not have agreed to marry him.

All so clear ...

Kim put a hand to her head, but the searing pain remained. Her whole life was shattered by what she had overheard. Not only was she an unloved wife, but her dearest Bart was soon to be taken from her. She wept softly, past memories flooding in. She seemed to be re-living the sorrow she had known after the accident that took her three loved ones from her.

'I can't bear it,' she whispered. 'Not Bart! I can't bear to lose him!'

The two were still talking, but Kim at last managed to move; the final words she heard were from Susan, whose voice was actually breaking.

'Poor Kim. She must never know that she's had all this arranged for her...'

Rock stared hard at his wife, his mouth tight, his eyes glinting.

'What's wrong with you?' he snapped. 'You've refused to go on our honeymoon; you've said you're ill and want to sleep alone. You won't walk with me, ride with me -' He broke off, and drew an angry breath. 'You won't do anything with me!'

Pale to the lips, she asked,

'Do you really want to do anything which includes me?'

She had thought a great deal about what she had overheard, and had at first decided not to say anything at all either to her husband or to Bart. She had managed to hide both her grief and her disillusionment for over a week, but the strain had become too much. When, all the Christmas festivities over—and most of them had been an ordeal, as Ravella flirted all the time when they were at parties, or the barbecue—Rock was ready to go on their honeymoon, she had said it would now be a sort of anticlimax and she did not want to go. Two days later, with the knowledge that his lovemaking was directed to one objective, she professed to be ill and said she would sleep in another room. Rock, though not at all happy about this, had, surprisingly, made no demur but had himself moved to another bedroom. How long this would continue Kim did not know. Her grief was all that occupied her mind. Rock was nothing to her. She still loved him, and always would, but there was a hatred within her too, for she had been duped. He had married her without love.

'Do I really want to do anything which includes you?' Rock was repeating, in tones of amazed disbelief. How well he could act, she thought as he continued, 'Are you crazy, Kim? I'm your husband— your very new husband! Of course I want to do things which include you.' He stopped, examining her face, noting its pallor, the drawn

lines, the dullness of her eyes. 'Kim,' he said in a much softer tone, 'what is it, my darling?' He came close; she suffered him to take her in his arms, to kiss her bloodless lips. 'Kim, why aren't you responding? I demand to know what is wrong?'

'I can't tell you.'

'So there is something?'

She nodded dumbly.

'Kim, you must tell me!'

She broke away from his embrace, facing him across the room. It suddenly came to her that she wanted to hit back, to make him suffer for what he had done to her. She spoke quickly, deliberately denying herself the time to change her mind.

'I don't love you, Rock. It's as simple as that.'

Silence, the awful silence of shattering disbelief.

'You -!' The grey eyes were narrowed to mere slits. 'I refuse to accept that! There's something else!'

Kim, white as the blouse she wore, shook her head, determined to convince him that she did not love him. In any case, it was the most convenient way, since she could not ever tell him the truth. At least, not while Bart was living, as Rock would be sure to say something to him. And Kim was not having Bart troubled at this stage in his life.

'We always quarrelled, didn't we? So we should have known that it would be the height of folly to marry. I was ill at the time you proposed to me, if you remember, and can only think that the aftermath of the fever had something to do with my making so stupid a decision -'

'Stop it!' he shouted, white drifts of fury rising at the sides of his mouth. Kim was reminded of his saying that she would be most unwise in trying to make him lose his temper. Well, she was past caring. Let him lose his temper; let him strike her. He couldn't hurt her any more than she was hurt at present. 'Stop lying and tell me what's wrong!'

Undaunted, she repeated what she had already said.

'I don't love you, Rock. It's as simple as that.'

His mouth moved spasmodically; that he was in the grip of some overpowering emotion was evident, and in spite of herself Kim was glad that it was the middle of the morning, and that they were in the living-room of their home. Had it been at night, and in her bedroom...

But the night had to come, and Kim had showered and slipped into a pretty diaphanous nightgown, very low at the front, low and seductive, revealing the firm and beautiful curves of her breasts, when the door was flung unceremoniously open and her husband strode in. She saw by his black expression that he was in a blazing fury. And she knew the reason for that fury.

'This afternoon,' he said between his teeth, 'you had tea with Val -'

'What of it? You've flirted enough with Ravella recently.'

'I have not flirted with Ravella!'

Kim was silent, admitting that it was Ravella who did the flirting. Aware as she was that Rock was not in love with his wife, she had renewed her efforts to win his interest. She had said that, if she found life interesting, she would stay on. She was showing no signs whatever of leaving for home. That Rock was the draw was plain, but Ravella was also interested in Clive Steyn, who, it was rumoured,

had transferred his attentions to her, from Susan. No doubt he was flattered by the admiration of a girl so beautiful and desirable as Ravella and he could not see that she was merely using him to assuage her boredom, to fill in her time when Rock was not there to divert her.

Kim, noticing that her husband was waiting for her to comment on what he had said, murmured at last,

'It's of no importance whether or not you flirt with Ravella. I suppose it was she who told you I'd had tea with Val. She saw us together, and you were speaking to her this evening.' They had been to the Petersons' home for sundowners, and as usual Ravella had used all her wiles to attract, and hold, Rock's attention.

'You'll not have tea with him again, understand?' Rock's hard eyes flickered over her and she coloured. She was shy at once, not having slept with her husband for several nights. She saw him look right through the filmy creation that covered her, saw his eyes come to rest at length on the curve of her breasts.

'I shall have tea with whom I like,' she said quietly. And then, 'Please go, I'm very tired.'

'Tired, are you?' Instead of leaving Rock took a couple of long strides which brought him into the middle of the room. Kim backed, until she felt the bed against her legs. 'Come here,' he commanded softly.

Kim swallowed, aware of quickening heartbeats. His face was twisted with fury and yet she knew a great surge of love within her. 'Oh, God,' she whispered, 'help me to resist him.' To go to him for desire alone ... And yet... how she wanted to run into his arms, to feel his warm hands caressing her, to surrender to his mastery...

'I asked you to leave.' How she voiced these cold words she did not know. She was two people—one hating him, one loving him with a love so strong that it threatened to bring her to the point of total submission.

A sneer curved his mouth.

'Do you suppose I would leave now -?' His eyes wandered with a sort of arrogant insolence over her slender, seductive form. 'I'm your husband, Kim. And I'm a man. Come here,' he said again, and pointed to a spot in front of him. 'I advise you to obey me,' he added when she made no move to do so. 'Obey me, Kim, or you'll rue it; I'm not wasting words.'

She started to cry, thinking of Bart and wishing she could be with him during these last few months of his life. Instead, she had to remain with her husband, a man who did not love her. Rebellion became her one consuming passion and she lifted her head and glared at him through her tears.

'Get out! Can't you see I don't want you!'

A terrible silence followed, and then, with an exclamation that was almost a snarl, Rock covered the small distance between them. His hand shot out and Kim gave a strangled cry as he jerked her savagely to him. His hands explored insolently; his vicious mouth conquered hers. Released at last, and with her own passions awakened despite the pain he had inflicted, Kim watched, fascinated, as he took off his dressing gown. She was taken up into his arms and laid on the bed; the light was extinguished, and in the darkness she felt his demanding mouth seeking hers.

Bart was smiling. Kim, glancing up from her typewriter, managed to smile in response. She wondered what effect the present strain would have on her later. The assumed happiness, the acting she was compelled to do when she and Rock were together in Bart's presence, the interest she had to take on whenever Bart happened to mention the time when the book would be published. Interest... when she wanted to burst into tears, knowing as she did that he would not live to see the publication of this, his last book.

'What is it?' she asked, her fingers resting lightly on the keys.

'I've decided, my love, to go on safari.'

Kim's eyes opened wide.

'Safari?' she echoed, thinking of his condition and feeling that the trip would do him more harm than good. On the other hand, he would thoroughly enjoy it, having many times expressed the wish to see some of the African animals in the wild. 'Will you be all right?' What would she do all day when he had gone? There was a certain amount of work outstanding, of course, but once that was done she would be at a loose end. However, Bart's immediate happiness was all that mattered, and as he appeared to have made up his mind she had no alternative then to enter into his enthusiasm and discuss the trip with him.

Rock came over during the afternoon and Bart told him of the trip. Watching the two men without very much interest at first, Kim became unaccountably tensed as Bart mentioned the safari trip. Incredible as it seemed, Kim was sure that Rock knew all about the trip, and that Bart's telling him about it now was for Kim's benefit entirely!

Secrecy...

Kim could understand it in the past, when Bart had not wanted to know that he had been given only a few months to live. She would never blame him for the untruths he had told her when he assured her that the doctor had merely said he was tired and must have more rest. The tablets had been for the heart complaint; Rock had known this as well. Kim did not blame Rock for keeping her in the dark, since she knew that it was at Bart's request. Yes, Kim could understand secrecy in the past, but not now. And that there was something odd going on was an undoubted fact in her mind. Rock had not evinced anywhere near sufficient surprise on being told about the safari trip. This meant that Bart had already discussed it with him ... and Rock had kept it to himself.

Perhaps, though, Rock considered their relationship to be such that his talks with Bart were no concern of Kim's. She and Rock were drifting farther and farther apart with each day that passed, and there were times when she felt her heart would break. When Bart had gone, she decided, she would leave Africa, and the husband whose only use for her was to give him a son.

'When are you thinking of taking this trip?' inquired Rock, taking possession of a chair after bending down to kiss his wife, for Bart's benefit.

'Soon, Rock, very soon.'

'Leaving the book?'

'Yes, the book can wait. Kim's got a lot of work to do on it, and she can also do some research for me; it'll be ready when I return.'

'How long will you be away?' she wanted to know, wondering if she would ever see him alive again. The thought sent a shudder of agony running along her spine. She must go with him! He was far more important to her than Rock.

'A couple of weeks ... if all goes will.'

A sort of tense silence ensued, with a very strange glance indeed passing between Rock and Bart. What was the matter with these two?

Kim said, pausing a moment in order to phrase her words in the best possible way,

'Bart, as your secretary, I do feel I should be with you. Rock won't mind, will you, darling?' So difficult to call him darling! She expected satire, or a sneer of derision to result, but to her amazement it was consternation that appeared on his face ... and on the face of Bart as well!

'No,' said Bart hastily. 'Impossible, my dear -'

'Why?' she asked bluntly, determined to make an attempt at unravelling the mystery.

'Because you're married, my dear.'

'I've just said that Rock won't mind.'

'But Rock hasn't said so.' Another glance, then Rock said quietly, but in an authoritative tone of voice,

'I'd rather you didn't go with Bart, Kim.'

Her eyes blazed, but she took care that Bart did not see.

'Bart needs me. He's not been well, as you know.' It was so difficult not to reveal all she knew, to say that Bart soon became tired and that she ought to be there to see that he took the doctor's advice and get his rest. Yes, it was difficult to pretend, but Kim managed it all the same.

'I don't need you, Kim,' said Bart. 'Please, my dear, let's leave it at that. I want to go alone—I must go alone.'

She looked at him, aware that he meant what he said. He did not want her ... Rock did not really want her either. For the second time in her life she felt utterly alone in the world.

CHAPTER NINE

IT was Saturday and Kim was getting ready for the dance at the club. She had told Rock that she did not want to go, but he had insisted, saying she needed the change.

'You've been on that typewriter every day for a week,' he said, 'so this break will do you good.'

'I've always been on the typewriter for a week. It's my job.'

He sighed impatiently.

'Bart tells me that you do many other things besides type. I believe I'm right in thinking that this last week has been harder than usual.'

She shrugged her shoulders.

'Have it your own way,' she said indifferently. Rock was in fact right in his assumption that this week had been harder than usual. Kim had wanted to make things easy for Bart, had wanted him to go away with an untroubled mind as regards the book. There had been difficulties galore with this present chapter and she had typed it out several times. Bart would read it, frown, then take a pencil and begin making alterations. She saw that his nerves were frayed and she was determined to have that chapter typed in its final form before Bart went off on his trip. She was well on her way to doing just that, and could only hope that this last copy would satisfy him.

On their arrival at the club Bart, whom they had picked up, went off to chat with one of his friends, leaving Kim alone with her husband. He said they would dance, his manner cold and indifferent. Later, when he was dancing with Ravella, he was charm itself, smiling down into the girl's animated face, then chatting with her as they went round the room, two impressive figures who attracted a great

deal of attention. Kim, feeling relieved that Rock had found another partner, was at the same time experiencing a tinge of self-pity. People stared at her, then glanced towards the tall and distinguished pair on the dance floor. It was natural that Kim should find solace with Val, who was only too eager to dance with her, to take her in to supper, and to walk with her in the club grounds. That he was as mystified as the rest was certain, but he knew how to be tactful. It was the same with Susan. She laughed when saying,

'Ravella's the world's worst flirt! I'm glad, Kim, that you're not the jealous type.'

Kim looked at her, and she could not possibly miss the concern in her eyes. A sigh escaped Kim; she found herself wishing she could talk to Susan; it would be such a relief to open up her heart and mind to someone who already knew the facts, as Susan did.

Clive came up to them and took Susan away to dance. How was that affair progressing? Kim wondered, turning to smile at Val who had come up to her immediately on seeing Susan taken off by Clive.

'You're lost in thought—or you were,' he told her.

'I was thinking of Susan and Clive.'

He nodded thoughtfully.

'A romance, you think?'

'It would be nice for them both.'

'Clive's never bothered much with girls. In fact, he's not mixed much at all, nor has his brother.'

'Their parents—did they die?'

Val shook his head.

'They retired to Johannesburg and left the farm to the two boys.'

'They were lucky,' commented Kim. 'To be in possession of so large a farm, I mean, especially as they're both so young.'

'Clive likes the farm well enough, but Jack would rather work with his brain.'

'Like you,' she said, remembering that Val had said he would like to write a book.

'Yes, like me. I've started that book, by the way. Mr Nash gave me a few hints—very basic hints, and also gave me a list of books to read.'

'It's very hard work,' she warned him.

'I know. I shall probably keep to farming.'

She watched Susan and Clive for a few moments.

'Do you suppose that Jack would sell his share of the farm to Clive—supposing Clive got married, that is?'

'It's a thought,' answered Val musingly, his eyes following the direction of his companion's gaze. 'I don't think he'd have any regrets about selling out to his brother.'

'Susan loves farming.'

'I know she does. Has the poultry side all on her own now.' He paused a moment, his eyes wandering to the two tall figures who seemed to be dominating the dance floor. 'I expect Susan's had enough of that cousin of hers by now.'

'Ravella? She's been here a long time.'

'Supposed to have come for six weeks only.' Val's eyes slid to Kim's set face. 'She's venom, that one.'

'So you're not one of those who have fallen for her charms?' Kim tried to speak lightly, but Val was not deceived.

'Not me. She's the wrong type altogether.'

Kim said nothing; within a couple of minutes she and Val were dancing. She caught her husband's eye, saw the amused satire on his face that had at one time been so familiar. So Rock no longer cared that Val was paying his wife so much attention.

Nevertheless, he did mention it when they arrived home just after midnight.

'You seemed to be enjoying yourself with Val.' His voice was without expression, as were his eyes.

'And you with Ravella,' was Kim's swift counter- thrust.

'I agree.'

'She doesn't appeal to everyone,' Kim could not help saying.

'By that, I take it you mean Val?'

Kim nodded her head. She was standing by the open window staring out to the silent scene where nature held sway and there was peace.

'Yes, I mean Val. He wouldn't find her attractive at all.'

Her husband came a few steps closer to where she was standing.

'Your friend thinks my taste is not up to his own standards?'

'Something of the kind.'

'So ... you were discussing me!'

She turned, and he saw that her face was white.

'Your name was never mentioned between Val and me,' she assured him coldly.

'Kim,' he said after a long pause, 'just what went wrong? You're not the girl to marry a man you don't love.' So quiet the voice, and in it there seemed to be a note of pleading. Uncharacteristic, she thought, recalling how arrogant he had always been with her at first.

'I told you -' Kim deliberately injected a note of impatience into her tones, '—that I was ill at the time I agreed to marry you. At least, I was suffering from the after-effects of the fever. You said yourself that I might get things all wrong, and I did.'

'Is that all you have to say?' Faintly, his voice was harsh. 'Have you no regrets?'

'Of course I have regrets.' Kim swung around to face him. 'I bitterly regret having married you.'

'God!' Rock's face was as pale as hers. 'I never thought to hear words like those come from your lips! What do you suggest we do about it?'

Was he resigned? Would he be willing to have a divorce without any fuss? Divorce ... Kim's eyes shadowed as a cloud of tears gathered at the back of them. For her, marriage had been for ever. She had always known that she would never make a mistake because she would never marry unless she were deeply in love. Well, she was still deeply in love, yet she was admitting to having made a mistake.

Anger against Rock welled up within her, enveloping her whole being. He had acted so convincing a part, had led her on to believe that he loved her. She would tell him all once her dear Bart was gone, would repeat what she had overheard between Ravella and Susan. Rock was speaking, repeating his question but with more force than before.

'There's only one thing we can do,' Kim replied.

Rock swallowed hard, and his mouth seemed to quiver, but she could not be sure. He was upset because his plan had gone awry; she was not to give him the son he wanted.

'You're suggesting we separate?'

'I'm saying we shall have a divorce.'

'I don't believe in divorce!'

'These days it doesn't matter whether you do or not. I can get one.'

'You ...' His teeth had come together. She faced him unflinchingly. Having suffered his unbridled ardour on more than one occasion, she was resigned. It would not continue after Bart's- - Kim halted her thoughts before the dreaded word formed in her mind. If only she could be with Bart for these last few months! But the whole idea was for him to be happy in the conviction that she herself was happy, and well provided for. It had not seemed to matter to him that he was getting her married to someone who did not love her. Vividly she recalled Ravella's words, words repeated from something Rock had said to Bart,

'... Kim would do as well as any other girl.'

Suddenly it didn't seem to fit! One piece of the jigsaw was totally alien. Bart would never have agreed to the marriage had Rock said a

thing like that. No, indeed not! Bart loved her far too much. Had Ravella lied? That idea was absurd, since it could gain the girl nothing to lie. It wasn't as if she had been speaking to Kim herself, and had a spiteful intention of informing her that her husband had not married her for love. No, Ravella had been talking to Susan, and she knew full well that nothing she said would go any further, that Susan would keep it all to herself.

Kim frowned, aware of some further thing that did not fit. She, Kim, had left the supper table in a hurry, wanting to be alone. Ravella was in conversation with Rock ... and yet, just a few minutes later, she was in the gardens, talking to Susan on the other side of that hedge.

'Kim, what are you thinking about?' Rock's voice broke her reflections and she looked at him.

'I was trying to sort something out,' she admitted:, the puzzled frown still creasing her forehead.

'What were you trying to sort out?'

Kim shook her head bewilderedly.

'You wouldn't be able to help,' she said.

'You could try me,' he said persuasively.

'Do you remember talking to Ravella at the supper table ort the night of the Christmas ball at the club?'

Rock looked surprised, as well he might.

'I don't know what you're getting at, Kim.'

'It doesn't matter -' she began, when he interrupted her.

'It does matter. Obviously it was of some importance, or you wouldn't have been trying to sort it out, as you put it.'

'You can't remember the incident?'

'At the supper table ...' Rock's brows knit together in concentration. 'Ah, yes—you were on the other side of me, talking to Val.'

'That's right. Do you remember what happened after I left the table?'

'You disappeared quite suddenly. One moment you were there, the next you were gone.'

'I don't mean me,' she told him impatiently. 'What did Ravella do?'

'Ravella?' Rock looked suspiciously at her—as if she were not quite right in her mind, she thought.

'She must have left the table very quickly too.'

'Kim, just what are you trying to prove?'

She gave a deep sigh, wishing suddenly that she could confide in him.

'I was wondering how quickly Ravella left the table.'

'There's some important reason why you should know?'

'Yes—yes, there is.'

His eyes flicked strangely.

'Can't you be a little more explicit, Kim?' he wanted to know, but Kim shook her head, saying it was a very private matter.

1 can only say this,' she added, 'that I'd like to know how Ravella got into the grounds, with Susan, so quickly after I left the table.'

Rock drew an exasperated breath.

'For heaven's sake, Kim, stop being so darned uncommunicative !'

'I'm sorry.' She turned to the window again, her mind wrestling with uncertainties. She knew for sure that there was much she did not understand, that what had appeared to be clear and straightforward was in fact perplexing, to say the least. But, as she saw it, Ravella had risen instantly after Kim herself had moved away from the table, had seen her cousin and, saying she had something to tell her, had persuaded Susan to walk in the garden with her. It seemed so odd that Ravella should leave Rock so suddenly. Rock obviously could not recollect the incident, but it did not really matter. Kim knew what had happened. But why the hurry -? Kim froze suddenly as perception flashed through her brain. Ravella had wanted her to overhear what she had to say! Swiftly upon this first flash of enlightenment came another; the impression Kim had had about the girl listening, and even peeping through the hedge, had some foundation. It was not an absurd idea at all!

Ravella had wanted Kim to overhear ... It had been planned. Why? It was not difficult to answer that, decided Kim bitterly. Ravella wanted Rock. Having discovered, by eavesdropping, that Rock had married Kim for convenience—satisfying both his and Bart's needs—she had then known that she herself had a chance with- him. But to strengthen her position she had decided to make sure a rift occurred between Rock and his wife.

'No,' cried Kim to herself, 'she couldn't be as horrid as that!'

But Kim knew she had made several correct guesses. She also knew she had made some incorrect ones, since if Ravella knew she was

being overheard by Kim, she could add a lie or two, just make things sound even worse than they were. And one lie was the bit about Rock telling Bart that Kim would do as well as any other girl. That was for Kim's ears, to humiliate her, to ensure that she would turn against her husband.

'Kim,' Rock was saying with almost gentle earnestness, 'please tell me what you're thinking, for I have a feeling that, if you do, something will be cleared up.'

How right he was! But she could not tell him any of it, simply because Bart's welfare, his happiness and freedom from anxiety at this time, were of paramount importance to her, and she was unwilling to take the risk of Rock's going to him and telling him that she knew everything.

'I don't think he would,' she whispered to herself, 'because, like me, he's anxious about Bart. But I'm not taking any chances since, in any case, there's nothing to be gained by telling Rock what I've learned.'

Another week passed; the heat of January became intense, and with it the torrential downpours which often battered the more delicate flowers in the garden. Bart was preparing to make his trip; Kim had asked him just where he would be going and was faintly puzzled when he seemed rather vague about this.

'You don't sound as interested as you should,' she told him. 'What actual arrangements have you made?' She noted his drawn features, the blue tinge on his mouth and her heart seemed to turn right over as despair flooded through her body. So final... She thought suddenly that the doctor could be wrong, but then remembered that, had there been any possibility of this, Rock would have insisted on another

opinion. For he valued Bart's friendship and would have done everything possible to save Bart's life.

'Er—Rock's seeing to it all for me, dear. He's brought a brochure from the travel agents in Tengaville—Now, where have I put it? Ah, yes, it's in the top drawer of my desk, Kim. Perhaps you would fetch it and we can have a look. Exciting, isn't it?'

To Kim, he didn't appear to be in the least excited, but she did as he told her and fetched the glossy brochure from the drawer.

'Here it is.' She put it down on the table and he opened it out. .

'I fly to Johannesburg—Rock's driving me to the airport,' he added, 'but obviously he's told you about that?'

She merely nodded, thinking about the one suitcase he had begun to pack. One ... It was a large one, granted, but Kim could not see him having sufficient clothing if that was all he intended taking.

'Yes, I fly to Johannesburg, then we set off on this safari, the following day, that is,' he said with a smile. 'We drive, in one of those striped jeeps'—he pointed to the illustration, 'and stay the night at another hotel near the Kruger National Park. The next day ...' He paused to read the brochure. 'Ah, yes, we drive through the Park to see the animals— zebra, giraffe, hippo—the lot! Then the next day we travel into Swaziland, seeing the magnificent views.' He was reading from the brochure as he went on to enlarge on the tour. There would be a return to African Zululand with an overnight stay at a safari lodge. 'The game reserves sound very exciting indeed, don't you think? And of course there's so much more to see than the animals. Here, read it for yourself and you'll get a better idea.'

'I wish I was coming with you,' she said, her eyes falling to the brochure he had pushed across to her. 'I don't like the idea of your going alone.'

'I shall be with a party—you can see for yourself that it's a conducted tour.'

She nodded.

'I still feel uneasy, Bart.' How very hard it was, this pretence! If only she could have said, 'I know your heart is failing, and I want to be with you, to take care of you.' But of course she could not. He had gone to such lengths to keep the truth from her, wanting only to save her from pain. She would suffer pain later, but Bart was taking it for granted that her husband would afford her such comfort that the blow would be mitigated. Thinking for a moment of Bart's part in getting Rock to marry her, Kim began to wonder if Rock had made some effort to delude Bart into believing that he really cared for Kim. She wouldn't put such a thing past Rock, knowing as she did how much he thought of Bart.

'You've no need at all to feel uneasy,' Bart was saying. 'I shall take care of my health, I can assure you.' He glanced at the clock. 'You'd better be going, Kim, or Rock will be protesting that I'm working you too hard.'

'He'd never do that,' she smiled. 'He knows you wouldn't work me too hard.'

'I have been doing these past couple of weeks. However, we seem to have this chapter tied up at last, so I shall go away with an easy mind.' He seemed to fall into a faraway mood, as if he were not here at all, at Katania Lodge, but on his safari already.

'As you say, I must go.' She tried not to allow dejection into her voice, but it was difficult to keep up a cheerful front when she had so much heartache to bear. She had talked to Rock about a divorce, this some days after they had first mentioned it. He was so angry that she let the matter drop, deciding she could do all there was to do after she had left him and flown back to her own country. 'Goodbye, Bart,' she said as she went out on to the stoep. 'I'll be along in the morning.' She went off to the paddock, a smile coming to her lips as Sammy trotted towards the gate. 'You're glad to see me? What a pet you are! You've got Bart to thank that you and I became pals!'

The horse whinnied as she mounted him; she leant forward to pat his neck, tears starting to her eyes as she thought of having to leave him behind. Perhaps, though, there was some way in which she could take him with her; she would make some inquiries later.

Rock was on the stoep when she arrived at Lusaka. She caught her breath as he turned his head. How handsome he was! How masculine, with those broad shoulders and that six feet odd of height. When she was in his arms she fitted snugly against him, her head just reaching his chin.

'I'll see to Sammy for you,' he offered, taking the steps in one long jump. 'Are you tired?'

'No, we haven't done very much today. The chapter's right at last.'

'Good. Bart'll be relieved.' He went off, Sammy following as he tugged gently at the reins. Kim watched them, her heart dragging within her. If only Rock had loved her! He was kind, at times, and she supposed she and he could have lived a very happy life had she not learned the truth, via Ravella. For Rock had never once let her guess that he had no love for her. No, indeed, just the reverse. He had always acted as if he adored her; he had told her so, too, many times. Yes, he could put on an act all right ... but what was the good of that,

when he had no love for her? One day he might have met someone he could love, and where would Kim have been then? He did not believe in divorce, he had said, but that was only in anger. Were he in love with someone he would have no hesitation in wanting a divorce.

She said, on her husband's return,

'Is it possible for me to go on this safari with Bart?'

He shook his head instantly.

'Neither he nor I want you to go.' Inflexible the tone, taut the jawline. Kim bit her lip, wishing she were free to make her own decisions.

'I'm worried about him,' she quivered. 'He's— he's having to take these pills, which he says are a general pick-me-up ...' She tailed off, very much afraid that if she continued she would give everything away and reveal all she knew.

'He'll take his pills all right, so you needn't worry your head about it.'

'He's become so absent-minded. He could forget!' And then he would collapse. Kim's mouth trembled piteously, and her eyes were filled with tears as they looked into Rock's. She saw him swallow and knew he was sorry for her. If he would take her in his arms at this moment she would have to sob out all she knew, confess that Bart's real condition was no secret to her. But Rock stayed by the rail of the stoep, his mouth set, his eyes expressionless.

'I can only repeat,' he said at last with a sigh, 'that he'll be quite all right.'

He turned away and Kim had the impression that he was hiding something. However, before she could speak he had turned again, and she heard him ask, in a gentle tone, if she would like to dine out, at the club.

She began to shake her head, then heard herself say,

'That w-would be nice.'

'Come, then, get yourself into that pretty lilac dress.'

She looked at him as she rose from her chair. His eyes met hers and held, and it did seem in that fleeting moment that what she saw was love, deep and sincere. But on the instant he glanced away, and all she saw was a bitter curve to his mouth.

She bathed and put on the lilac dress. Her hair shone, her lips were rosy. She used her perfume, took up her favourite evening bag and her cloak, and went from the bedroom to the sitting-room, where she waited for Rock. He soon appeared, immaculate in a white safari jacket and light blue linen slacks.

'You look charming.' His voice was cool but appreciative for all that. She knew he was proud to be taking her out. They got into the car and he let in the clutch. The car glided almost noiselessly along the drive, its headlights flaring. A variety of trees formed the avenue—tall flowering gums, slim poplars and paw-jaws, among others. On the verges, picked out by the lights, were canna lilies and oleanders, huge yellow buttercups and roses. The night air was scented, and alive with the shrill drilling note of the cicadas, which seemed to flood the car when it stopped by the gate before turning into the dark road.

Rock drove in silence and Kim began to regret having agreed to come out. It was all so different from what she had originally pictured ... and yet, she thought, there had been misgivings; she should have heeded them, and not rushed headlong into marriage. For it had been a headlong rush! With Rock in such a hurry, declaring he could not wait for her but in reality only setting Bart's mind at rest.

Arriving at the club, Rock parked the car, handed his wife out, and continued to hold her arm as they made their way up the steps to the lobby. A mere handful of people were there, and this meant that Rock and Kim were given the choice of tables.

'Over there,' stated Rock, 'in the alcove by the palms.'

So intimate ... Hidden from everyone else. Candles and flowers on the table, gleaming silver and crystal wineglasses. She wanted to cry suddenly, to weep for what might have been.

'Very good,' said the smiling black waiter. 'A drink first, though, in the lounge?'

'Of course.'

They sat down and were given the menu. Their drinks came; Rock gave the order. And all the time Kim was dwelling on an idea that had come to her. Could it be done at this late stage? she wondered.

'What are you thinking, Kim?' Her husband's quiet voice interrupted her half-formed plan and she looked at him across the low, glass-topped table.

'Bart, and his safari. Er—had you to book the trip a long time in advance?'

'No, it wasn't long. The travel agent told me, in fact, that there were plenty of vacancies.'

'I see ...' Kim was thoughtful and she leant forward and picked up her drink.

'Only another few days and he'll be off.'

'Yes.' Little did Rock know what was in her mind as she added, 'He'll be thrilled with all the animals, for he's always-wanted to see them in their natural habitat.'

Rock nodded, and they chatted for another ten minutes or so. Then they went in to dinner, which turned out to be a most pleasant meal for them both. Kim was subdued; Rock quiet but ready to talk whenever Kim spoke to him.

The drive back to Lusaka was cool and dark and intimate. Kim wondered how she would feel on leaving this country she had come to love, and in which she had, so short a time ago, believed she would end her days.

'Have you enjoyed this evening?' Rock's voice seemed to contain a little tinge of anxiety, as if he were unsure of whether or not she had at any time regretted having gone out with him.

'Very much, Rock.'

'I'm glad,' he said, staring down into her lovely eyes. 'Kim, child, I wish I knew what was wrong with you.'

She stiffened; for flooding in on her was the stark knowledge that he had no love for her. She said tautly,

'Good night, Rock, I'll see you in the morning.'

He hesitated. For the past few nights they had occupied separate rooms. She wanted him tonight, craved for the comfort of his arms ... but not without love. No, she would never come to him willingly again. Take her he might, and in anger, but he would never again have her surrender willingly.

'Good night,' he returned at last. 'Sleep well, Kim.' He turned from her, and went to the small room he had taken over. Kim stood where

he had left her, her mouth twisting convulsively as she tried unsuccessfully to stem the tears that came flooding from the backs of her eyes.

CHAPTER TEN

EARLY the following morning Kim was in Tengaville, having first ridden over to Katania Lodge and asked Bart if she could go shopping before she started work.

'Of course, dear. In any case, there's scarcely anything to do, now that the chapter's finished to my satisfaction.'

'There's the rest of your notes to tidy up, and the research you asked me to do.'

'Time enough for that while I'm away,' he said. 'Off you go and do that shopping you talked about.'

She drove his big car into the dusty town, parked it, then hurried along to the travel agent's shop.

He seemed eager for the business but at the same time a little doubtful of managing to get Kim on the trip, as the time so so short.

However, he promised to try and Kim said she would be in the following afternoon to see if he had been successful.

'Better make it Thursday,' he told her. 'I know the trip starts on the Saturday, but you'll have plenty of time to prepare if, on Thursday, I'm able to tell you that I've got the ticket, or if not, that I can get it for Friday.'

She nodded. Then, after some hesitation, she said,

'I must ask you not to mention to anyone that I'm going on this trip with Mr Nash. It's—er—to be a surprise.'

The man looked up sharply from the book in which he had been writing. He was clearly puzzled, but the impassive expression on Kim's face warned him not to ask questions.

'Very well,' he returned. 'I'll remember your wishes.'

'Thank you.'

Luggage ... A problem, a big one. But not unsurmountable.

'One suitcase of clothes is not enough,' she was declaring later when she got back to Katania Lodge. 'I'll pack you another.'

'Kim love, one's plenty, I assure you.' Bart turned his face from her and she was puzzled by the action, for it did appear that he was hiding his expression. However, she merely said,

'I insist, Bart. Don't forget that I know your habits, and that you like many changes, especially of underclothes.'

'All right,' he agreed after a small pause. 'Pack me another case if you really must.'

And so there were two suitcases to put in the car when, on Saturday morning, Rock and Kim arrived at Bart's house.

'Two?' frowned Rock, and Kim knew by the abrupt way he clipped the word that it had escaped unbidden.

'Yes,' replied Bart mildly, 'Kim insisted that I hadn't enough clothes, so I pandered to her request. Put them both in the car for me, Rock.'

On their arrival at the airport the two suitcases went off and then Rock took Kim and Bart to the lounge, where he bought them drinks. Kim, her heart pounding all the time, could scarcely hold the glass steady. Would she get away with it? Many times she had seen people

board a plane at the very last minute, so it was possible, in spite of the regulations about having to be early on board.

'You're pale, Kim.' The anxious words came from Bart. 'I'm going to be all right, so stop worrying.'

'My tummy's playing me up,' she said without looking at either man, 'so don't be surprised if I run off to the powder-room, will you?'

'Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. You really shouldn't get yourself worked up in this way. There isn't the slightest need.'

'Don't worry. I shall be all right. It's nothing serious, just nerves, I expect.'

Nerves indeed! Her plan was a patchy affair, to say the least. She had her ticket for the trip; her clothes—bare necessities—were probably on their way to the plane by now, so the first part of her plan had gone quite smoothly, although there was a tense moment when Bart had wanted to open the second suitcase to see what she had packed for him.

'Just necessities,' she had said. 'There's no need for you to look inside.'

'All right,' he had laughed. 'You're becoming very bossy since you've been a married woman I'

It was the second part of her plan that troubled Kim. But at least she did have her moves set clearly in her mind. Unfortunately, it was the moves of the other two that worried her. However, she said casually, once their drinks were finished,

'We won't wait to see you off, Bart. You know how I hate to see planes take off and land.'

'I do,' he answered, going on to say that he wouldn't hear of their waiting to see him off.

'We'll go as soon as your flight number's called.'

This was agreed; so far so good. All she had to do now was to feign sickness after Bart had left them. She would warn Rock that she would perhaps be some time, so if he would wait for her in the car...

Kim had walked the length of the plane twice. It was ridiculous, but she could not see Bart. She had been very furtive when boarding, keeping her head down even though she knew from wide experience that Bart would have his head in a book. He always began to read immediately on boarding a plane, and would not stop until they were fully airborne. He had never once admitted to being scared of the takeoff, but Kim knew that he was.

'Where can he be? I haven't seen him go into the toilet.'

She sat down, her stomach really playing her up now. She waited, thinking that he must be in one of the toilets; he had entered when she was not looking out for him. Relax, she told herself, and for a moment or two gave herself up to visualising Rock's reaction when he learned that she was on the plane, going on the trip with Bart. She had left a note on the board, but in any case he would have a message come over the air; Kim had made sure of this, not wanting him to be concerned, naturally. That he would be furiously angry went without saying, but that was of no matter. Kim wanted to be with her employer, to take good care of him while on the trip. But where was he?

At length Kim beckoned to one of the air hostesses, then spoke quietly to her. The girl went off, returning after about ten minutes to say that there was no one on board by the name of Bartlet Nash.

'Not on board?' blinked Kim, her mind in a whirl. 'He must be. He's joining a safari \n Johannesburg.'

The girl looked troubled.

'He must have missed the plane,' she suggested, but Kim was shaking her head.

'He was at the airport in plenty of time.'

'Well, he certainly didn't board this plane.' The girl glanced over her shoulder as the food trolley came up the isle.

'But it's impossible for anyone to board the wrong plane!'

'You're sure he did board a plane?'

'Yes ...' Kim stopped, frowning heavily. 'My husband and I came with him, but left him when his flight was called.'

'So you don't know if he got on a plane or not?'

'No,' murmured Kim thoughtfully, 'I don't...'

The girl had to move away, apologising as she did so. Kim was left, deep in thought. That one suitcase. Not like Bart at all, not for two weeks, that was. One week, perhaps ...

She glanced up as the girl returned, the trolley having been wheeled past her.

'You say that you and your husband were with this Mr Nash -?' The girl eyed Kim in a puzzled manner before continuing, 'Why didn't you both get on the plane together? I mean, if you were with the man -' The girl shrugged, clearly bewildered. Kim could not of course explain. She asked instead what other planes had gone off about the same time as this one. 'There was one to Durban, and that's all. It isn't a very large airport, as you know.'

Durban? No, Bart couldn't possibly have gone to Durban; besides, where was the sense of telling her he was going on a safari if he had no intention of doing so? Kim's mind kept switching back to the matter of the one suitcase. Other flashes of memory brought back such things as Bart's not having read up much about the safari. It was so unlike him, as he invariably learned quite a lot about any country he was visiting, or about any particular trip he was intending to make. Another flash brought back Rock's surprise on seeing the two suitcases. It was plain that he had expected only one—but why should he?

A sudden fear entered into Kim. Her life seemed to be surrounded by mysteries these days. There certainly was a mystery connected with this business of a safari. She had worked for Bart long enough to know just how thorough he was, how careful, how conscious of small details connected with his travel arrangements.

He was the last person in the world to board the wrong plane, even had that been possible.

She stood outside the Landdrost Hotel in Johannesburg and wondered if, by some miracle, she would find her employer inside. For this was where the safari party were to meet, and be joined by their guide. She entered, went to the desk and gave her name. The guide was over there, she was told, and she instantly went to him. He

was a tall young African who spoke perfect English. She explained; he glanced down his list and she saw him shake his head. Even before he spoke she knew what he was going to say.

'We have no one by the name of Bartlet Nash on this safari. What has happened? I must help you if I can.'

'I want to get back home,' she told him wearily, 'that's all.'

'You are not coming with us? But, Miss Mason, you have paid for the safari; you'll not be able to have your money returned to you at this late stage.'

'It doesn't matter.' A great wave of tiredness swept over her. Vaguely she had accepted that she had been hoodwinked by both Rock and Bart, and she knew instinctively that Bart would come to no harm, wherever he was. However, despite this conviction she could not even think of taking the safari trip on her own. There was no sense in it—although she admitted that the prospect had been rather attractive a few hours earlier, when first she had boarded the plane expecting to come face to face with Bart at any moment. 'I must get back home as soon as possible.' She would have a great deal to say to her husband when she did get back. To her way of thinking both he and Bart had acted in a very mean way towards her, deceiving her as they had. For the first time for years Kim was brought starkly to the point where she was admitting that she was in fact only an employee of Bart's, and as such it was not incumbent upon her employer to inform her of his movements.

'Well, Miss Mason, if you really insist on returning to your home, I will arrange a flight for you.'

'Thank you very much.' Kim looked gratefully at him. 'You're very kind.'

'Not at all. I'm only sorry that you cannot be persuaded to take the trip with us.' He did not press her any further and this was a relief. 'Meanwhile, you must have your room here for tonight, just as you would have done had you been coming on the safari with us.'

She went straight up, and slept fitfully, not bothering to go down for supper. The following morning she was told that she would not be able to leave for another three days.

'Three days!' she exclaimed in dismay. 'Why is that?'

'There isn't a flight,' said the guide.

Kim bit her lip hard to fight back the tears of frustration and anxiety that had gathered behind her eyes. Where was Bart? Oh, yes, he was safe enough. Rock knew where he was!

'I hate Rock!' she said vehemently when, once again, she was in her bedroom. 'How dare he deceive me like this!'

A gentle knock on the door brought her to her feet. She called, 'Come in,' and a coloured maid entered with a note in her hand. Kim read it, said, Thank you,' and within three minutes she was speaking to her husband on the telephone.

'What the devil do you mean by that crazy action?' he demanded wrathfully, to which his wife re-

plied, with a fury equalling his own,

'And what the devil do you and Bart mean by deceiving me! Where is he?'

'Never mind -'

'Where is he!' No answer. Kim felt her heart would stop beating, so frightening was the great lurch it gave. 'He's ... he's not...?' No, he was safe! She knew he was safe! 'I demand to know where he is!'

'Kim, I shall be with you later today. I've just had a note handed to me to say that I've managed to get a seat on the next plane to Johannesburg. I'm in an hotel close to the airport -'

'Where is Bart? Do you think I care whether or not you're coming here to escort me home! I'm catching the plane in three days' time, so you needn't waste your energies on coming out to me! All that interests me is Bart's whereabouts. Why the secrecy?' she cried almost hysterically. 'I want to know where he is!'

'All right. I'm betraying a promise he extracted from me, but I feel justified. Bart has gone into a hospital in Durban ... where he's to undergo a heart operation.'

A long profound silence and then,

'Hospital?' Kim's whole body trembled. 'Why— why d-didn't you both—both tell me?'

'It was Bart's wish. He didn't want you troubled at this time—when you were just married -' He broke off and another silence ensued before he added, 'Look, Kim, I'll explain all about it when I see you later today. According to my reckoning I should be with you in time for dinner.'

'Very well.' She replaced the receiver without another word, wondering at first how Rock had known where she was, but then realising that he had only to go into a travel agent's and pick up one of the brochures. In it he would learn that the trip started from the Landdrost Hotel in Johannesburg. In any case, he might just have remembered it from the brochure he had obtained for Bart—if he had

troubled to read it, that was, thought Kim, then decided it was unlikely, seeing that Bart had no intention of taking the safari trip.

Kim telephoned the hospital in Durban after the safari guide had found the number for her. Bart was having his operation the following day. That was all; she was given no other information.

Rock arrived at half-past seven, greeted her in the lobby, where she was waiting for him, with the furious exclamation,

'You little fool! What do you mean by causing me all this anxiety?'

Her eyes blazed.

'Don't you dare mention anxiety to me! Deceiving me like this! Letting me go to the trouble of packing a suitcase and -'

'Can we continue this verbal punch-up in your room?' cut in Rock icily. 'You might enjoy making an exhibition of yourself, but I do not!'

Kim marched off towards the lift. A couple of minutes later they faced each other, in the privacy of her bedroom.

'As for letting you pack that damned suitcase,' began Rock instantly, 'I didn't even know what you were up to. Had I known, then you'd have found yourself under lock and key, my girl!'

She was very pale, and her chest, heaved, the result o£ her emotions.

'You're very optimistic, aren't you? Do you really believe you could lock me up and I'd not find a way out?'

Impatiently he turned, throwing his raincoat on her bed.

'Do you want to know what led up to Bart's deciding to go into hospital?' he inquired coldly.

'Of course.' Kim walked to the window, so that Rock would not see the tears which had gathered in her eyes. He must not know how deeply she was hurt by the way they were with one another. Somehow she had visualised that, when they met in that lobby down there, where she had been waiting for him for over an hour, at least it would have been a friendly meeting. She had vowed to herself that she would be nice to him, be willing to listen to any explanations he had. to offer in excuse for his conduct in deceiving her. But he strode in, glowered at her, and then called her a little fool! It was inevitable that she would retaliate, especially as she was the injured party in all this wretched business. 'What did lead up to Bart's deciding to go into hospital?'

A moment of total silence followed Kim's words before her husband began to speak. And as she listened all her anger dissolved. She turned, slowly, shaking her head dazedly, and unconsciously taking a step or two which brought her closer to her husband.

'You had your doubts about the doctor's verdict, so you got in touch with this heart specialist whom you knew, in Durban. It's been all your doing, right from the start?' Rock merely nodded. He was standing with his back to the wardrobe, hands thrust deeply into his jacket pockets, a brooding expression on his bronzed face. 'You got this specialist out to see Bart, you said? But when?'

'One day when Bart had sent you into Tengaville for some books, and some other items he wanted. This heart specialist had flown in the day before and was staying with me at Lusaka. As I've said, Bart insisted on keeping all this from you; he was adamant about your not being subjected to anxiety over him. I took the man over and Bart was given a thorough examination. It was decided by this doctor that there was a chance, but on the other hand, Bart could die on the

operating table.' Rock shrugged. 'You know the rest; I've just related it to you.'

She said, almost to herself,

'It was before we were married.'

'Certainly it was before we were married.' Rock looked interrogatingly at her. 'What difference does that make, I'd like to know?'

Kim drew a breath, and took another small step towards him. She said, through whitened lips,

'You knew, then, before our marriage, that Bart had a chance?'

'Yes,' he answered frowningly, and then, 'I hope, Kim, that we're not in for another session of incomprehensible jargon on your part.'

She could have smiled at this; it was so like the Rock of old, with his sarcasm, his scornful way of looking at her. She did not smile, however, but said quietly,

'You see, I happen to know that Bart asked you to marry me -'

'You do! How?'

'Never mind how for the moment. Tell me, Rock, the reason why you married me.'

He looked at her through narrowed eyes, eyes that were baffled for a space, but then they slowly widened, as if perception were dawning within Rock's brain.

'You've just said that you know Bart asked me to marry you,' he said, lifting a hand in an imperious gesture as she would have interrupted.

'I now have reason to believe that you've decided—within that poor, backward brain of yours—that I married you to please Bart -' He broke off and laughed, laughed with a harshness that brought her hands involuntarily to her ears. 'Do I strike you as a man who would act in that sort of a damned-fool manner?'

'N-no...' Kim shook her head, allowing her hand to drop to her sides. 'Rock ...' Another step towards him, but Rock stood rigid, his whole demeanour stern, inflexible. 'I th-think I've m-made a terrible —-terrible'—Kim gulped down something that had lodged in her throat—'mistake.'

Rock folded his arms and stared at her bent head.

'Come here,' he commanded and, when she did not move, 'Kim, I'm almost ready to give you something that'll leave you smarting for a week. Come here!'

She obeyed at once, her colour rising rapidly.

'I'm very sorry -' she began, when he interrupted her.

'Sorry! Do you suppose one little word can erase all you've put me through! Believe me, Kim, when I get you home I'll be very tempted to beat some sense into you! Now, tell me at once how you came to know that Bart had asked me to marry you!'

Again she obeyed, having to look into his hard eyes all the time because he had his hand beneath her chin, forcing her face upwards.

'I did eventually grasp the fact that Ravella had wanted me to overhear her,' ended Kim, wishing she could draw away from her stern-faced husband, but not daring to, for she very much feared that he was in a mood to carry out his threat.

'How very clever of you to grasp the fact that Ravella wanted you to overhear her!' he said sarcastically. 'And why, might I ask, did you not come immediately to me and have the whole matter thrashed out? I seem to remember asking you to tell me what you were thinking, for if you did, then a lot would have been cleared up.'

'Yes... you did,' she murmured huskily. 'I w-wish I'd t-taken more notice of—of you -' She stopped, then gave a little cry of protest as her husband, unable to control the impulse, gave her such a shaking that her teeth began to chatter.

'Tell me the rest!' he commanded. 'Everything, so that we can begin at the beginning again!'

'There isn't much else,' she quivered, tears stinging her eyelids. 'Except that I was intending to—to leave you, once Bart was—was -'

'Leave me, would you!' Again she was given a shaking. It brought to memory that warning of her husband's that if ever she made him lose his temper with her, then she'd be sorry. 'Leave me! Show me up among my friends! By God, Kim, I'd have brought you back and, believe me, you'd never have taken such a risk again!'

She did move away at this.

'If you're going to keep on threatening me with violence,' she said, some modicum of spirit returning to her, 'then I shan't return to—to you.'

'Return?'

'Well... I mean ... now.'

'You'd like us to part?'

'Part?' She swallowed convulsively. But she was given no opportunity of adding to this, for Rock, apparently deciding that she had been punished enough, drew her gently into his arms and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

'You idiot,' he murmured, 'you obstinate, aggravating, adorable little idiot!' His kiss was fierce, possessive, a kiss whose strength was enough to sweep away all misunderstanding. 'My Kim ... what must I do with you?'

'Just l-love me,' she answered huskily.

It was much later, when they were in a secluded corner of the hotel restaurant, dining by candlelight, that the rest of the explanations were made, on both sides. Kim learned that although Bart had asked Rock to marry her, Rock had assured Bart that he had already made up his mind that Kim was the girl for him.

'I admit that I fought the inclination to marry you,' he said with a rueful smile, his tender glance meeting Kim's across the table. 'My bachelor state had been so comfortable and uncomplicated that I had no wish for the intrusion of a woman into my life. However, I very soon realised that you were having the sort of effect on me that can't be ignored, and although I fought, as I've just said, I knew instinctively that it was a battle I couldn't possibly win.' His eyes glimmered with amusement at her heightened colour. She managed a shaky laugh as she said,

'I'm so very glad, Rock, that you lost the battle.'

'So am I, my sweet.'

'If only Bart is all right -' She stopped and her mouth trembled. 'Then my whole world would be just perfect.'

'We can only hope, my darling,' he returned seriously. 'But if this operation should go wrong, then you'll have your husband to comfort you, as he will comfort you all your life when things go wrong.'

She nodded and smiled mistily at him.

'I know it, Rock. And you have me to comfort you, always.'

They finished their dinner, walked in the hotel gardens for a while, then went up to their room, to sleep peacefully in each other's arms.

It was a week later. The news that they had both waited for was received—Bart was going to live.

'Doesn't he look well!' exclaimed Kim as she came from the private ward, her hand tightly clasped in that of her husband. 'Do you know, Rock, I don't think I've ever seen him looking so young as he looks now. And it's all due to you.' She was skipping to keep pace with him as they walked along the corridor of the hospital. 'How can I thank you enough?'

'Don't thank me, my darling, just love me for ever,' was Rock's fervent rejoinder as he turned his head and stared tenderly down into his wife's face.

They emerged from the cold cleanliness of the hospital into the warmth of the African sunshine.

Kim's reply, soft and low and yet vibrant with the love that filled her whole being, came through the scented air to reach her husband's ears,

'That, my dearest Rock, will be the easiest thing I shall do in the whole of my life!'