Free Old Desires/A Stranger's Kiss (2-in-1 edition) by Liz Fielding

paperwork before the end of term. I have a class this evening. My last one.’
    ‘Of course. You’ll want to say goodbye to everyone.’
    ‘Goodbye?’
    ‘Surely you’ll resign now? You won’t carry on teaching?’
    ‘Why should I do that, Joshua?’ she asked with biting irony. ‘Because my mother — not the one who brought me up, but the new one I didn’t know about, the one who gave me away — has left me all her money as a sop to her guilt?’
    His head shot back as if she had hit him and he let her wrist drop, breaking the link between them..
    ‘Very well, I’ll get on with it.’ His step back put a clear space between them and she felt as if she was being cast adrift. ‘I’ve already had an excellent offer for Highfield — Mary’s house.’ He waited, his face blank, for some reaction from her. Feeling nothing, she offered none. ‘Do you need any money straight away?’
    ‘No,’ she said. Then she lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Yes…’ He raised a brow in query. ‘I’m going to Italy at the weekend.’
    ‘How much do you want?’ The question disconcerted her. She had expected him to be angry with her. Had intended him to be angry.
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘I’ll transfer five thousand pounds. Give me the details of your bank account and I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.’
    * * *
    ‘Falling asleep in the sun is not wise, Holly.’
    The voice came from far away, familiar and yet strange after the weeks in Italy and France. An English voice that sent a ripple of pleasure up her spine. She kept her eyes closed, afraid that she had imagined it. But a shadow moved across her face and blocked out the sun.
    ‘I’m not asleep,’ she murmured.
    ‘I know.’ The voice was teasing. ‘You’re simply resting your eyes.’ If she had allowed herself to wonder what Joshua’s reaction might be to her continued absence, she would have assumed that he wouldn’t care. She certainly wouldn’t have expected him to come looking for her, not after their last meeting.
    He had arrived unexpectedly on her doorstep the day after they had found the box in the loft, to confirm the details of a transfer of money to her account. She had opened the door and he had been there, grave, courteous, keeping his distance in the face of her brittle temper. It was the only time in her life she had regretted the lack of a telephone. Then he would simply have called her and she wouldn’t have had to bear the watchful scrutiny in his eyes.
    He had asked carefully if she was all right, if she had slept and, on her snappy assurance that she was just fine, he had resisted any further enquiries, and had simply told her that he would call again and see her when she returned from Italy.
    ‘I’d like a little notice, Joshua. I may not be in if you just turn up,’ she warned him.
    He’d looked at her hard and she’d thought he was about to say something, but he’d clearly thought better of it, since he’d contented himself with a slight shrug and said, ‘You could come up to the office if you prefer. I’ll drop you a line when everything is settled and you can call me and arrange a time.’ But she hadn’t been there to call him. She’d taken her flight to Florence the next day and, when the three weeks had expired she had not gone home.
    She lifted lids so heavy that the effort was almost insupportable, unwilling to face the man who had come to disturb her fragile peace, half expecting him to be dressed in one of those elegant suits, tailored to perfection for his broad shoulders. But he looked equally at home in a fine jersey shirt and tailored shorts, his bare feet pushed into a pair of espadrilles. In fact, she thought, it was almost shocking that one man could look quite so desirable.
    And desire was the right word. Because, although Margaret and Mary had been in her thoughts during the past weeks, Joshua had been there too. Not the angry, disapproving man to whom she had opened her door that disastrous