listening to her quiet breathing.
From the corner of her eye, she was aware of the faintest of movements from the doorway. Without turning, she said softly, 'Carrie, have you come to take over?'
'It's not Carrie.'
Phoebe's heart thudded violently as she heard the amused note in the deep voice, and she twisted in her chair, her face a picture of disbelief.
'You're back already? But you can't be.'
'Then I'm a mirage,' he said equably, treading quietly across the carpet.
Phoebe, against her will, saw the dark face soften into disarming tenderness as he bent to drop a kiss on Tara's tumbled curls. Another intimate insight she could have done without, she reflected bitterly.
'I .think you can leave your post.' The smile was transferred to Phoebe. 'Carrie says you're wonderful with her, which is praise indeed.'
'It's not difficult.' Phoebe preceded him to the door, crossly aware that her breathing was flurried. 'She's a very lovable child.'
'In spite of her parents?' he added silkily. 'Wasn't that the inevitable rider?'
Phoebe didn't look at him. 'That's really none of my business.'
'Rubbish.' Dominic closed the night-nursery door with care. 'You obviously have very strong views. I can sense them seething behind that straight face of yours like a log-jam.'
'Very well,' said Phoebe, nettled. 'I think Tara feels chronically insecure.'
'Since Cindy went?'
'Before Cindy ever came,' she said impatiently. 'Tara deserves better than a succession of professional staff who are just passing through, however qualified they may be. She needs a—a permanent influence in her life. Someone to give her emotional stability.' She paused, flicking a glance at his enigmatic face. 'You did ask,' she added defensively.
'Yes, I did.' He paused. 'Actually, I agree with you, and I've made it my current priority.'
Hazel Sinclair, I suppose, Phoebe thought, feeling oddly dejected. And how will Tara react to that?
She said sedately, 'I—I hope you had a pleasant evening.'
'You mentioned the restaurant's reputation,' he returned, his mouth twisting. 'It's been living on it for some time, at a guess. The pudding, at least, was edible, so we decided to quit while we were ahead and come back here for coffee.'
'Oh,' she said, rather blankly. 'Then I'll get out of your way.'
'No,' he said. 'You'll have coffee with us, then I'll run you home.'
'But Miss Sinclair...'
'Brought her own car, remember? Any more objections?'
Plenty, she thought, in which I shall probably be joined by Miss Sinclair.
Hazel's smile was glittering as they entered the drawing room. 'What amazing devotion to duty,' she drawled. 'I can see you're bent on becoming a family treasure.'
'On the contrary,' Phoebe walked to one of the sofas which flanked the wide fireplace and sat down. 'In the New Year, I shall be looking for a job in my own profession.'
'More waitressing?' Hazel's eyebrows rose.
'No,' Phoebe said levelly. 'I'm sorry to shatter your illusions, but I'm a qualified librarian.'
'Ah,' Dominic said quietly, as if some unspoken question of his own had been answered.
'Then why on earth waste your time in some potty little cafe?' Hazel demanded.
Dominic looked at Phoebe with an odd smile. 'Because she doesn't see it like that. She's with people she likes in pleasant surroundings—right, Miss Grant?'
'Perfectly correct.' Phoebe was relieved to see Carrie coming in with the coffee-tray. It was disturbing to realise what close attention Dominic Ashton must have paid to their conversation the other night.
But he was not to be allowed a similar opportunity this evening. As they drank their coffee Hazel switched the focus to herself and kept it there, switching from playful, almost girlish chatter to adroitly handled affectionate reminiscence and back again.
A skilful performance, Phoebe decided judiciously. If she's not quite sure of him yet, she means to be. And she gave a little sigh which she hastily turned into a smothered yawn as Dominic turned to look at