supposed fancy for his assistant.
'He isn’t a besotted calf,’ she declared indignantly.
‘He appears so when he looks at you, and he is nearer your age.' His face contorted savagely: 'By God, I'll sack the pair of you!’
‘Which would be ungenerous and unfair.’
His face changed. ‘I suppose it would,' he admitted.
‘There’s no need for all this drama,' Frances said quietly. 'I can’t help it if Ian fancies me, but as I’ve told you before, I’ve only friendship to give him.’ She smiled shyly. ‘He can’t compare with you.'
Her clouded blue eyes met his gaze unflinchingly, and he laughed.
‘I’m glad you’ve that much discernment. Then if there isn't anyone else, why the hesitation?' She turned her head away, and he went on persuasively: ‘I'll be easier in my mind if I know your future is provided for. I hate to think of you wasting your youth waiting upon querulous old women, and freedom from worry is important to a racing driver. You wouldn’t want to add to the risk : would you?’
She did not flatter herself that he would give her any thought once he had left the country and got among his racing clique, and she rather suspected that his concern for her was coloured by his desire to get his own way. Gray was ruthless in the face of opposition, and the role of benevolent father figure did not suit him, but his present anxiety might be genuine. She said insinuatingly:
£ Do you really care what becomes of me?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!' he exclaimed impatiently, ‘haven’t I made that clear?’ A cunning gleam came into his eyes. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer I fall a victim to Samantha’s wiles?’
Frances did not think that a wife in England would be much of a deterrent to Samantha Lambert’s advances if she were set upon capturing Gray, but at least he could not marry her. Perhaps that was at the back of his mind, for he knew Stuart Lambert would welcome him as a son-in-law, and he had already expressed his opinion of Sam. If pressure was brought to bear upon him, a wife at home would be a defence, though she could not imagine Gray allowing himself to be pushed into any situation against his will.
But the mention of Sam had a peculiar effect upon her, as possibly Gray had known it would. She had heartily disliked the American girl with her possessive attitude towards him, and to marry Gray would be to triumph over her. She had nothing to lose and a great deal to gain by yielding to him, so why quibble about the quality of his feelings? And love might come. She knew from that episode by the mere that they did, in modern parlance, turn each other on, which was something to build upon, if only it did not prove to be ephemeral. Nothing venture, nothing have, she told herself, and she said bravely: .
‘Very well, Gray, I’ll marry you, and as soon as you please.’
She half expected a physical demonstration, but it was not easy to embrace in a rowboat without danger of overturning it, and all he said was, ‘Sensible girl,’ so that she had the feeling that he had never been in doubt of her acceptance. She felt a momentary surge of indignation against his arrogant self-confidence, and suggested coolly:
‘As it’s more or less a marriage of convenience, you’re not proposing to . . . er . . . consummate it before you go?’
She had spoken out of pique, and was unprepared for the expression with which Gray greeted her words. She had never seen naked desire on a man’s face before, but she saw it then, and her heart turned over, but he masked it immediately.
‘Where do you get these adolescent ideas from, Fran?’ he asked with a hint of steel behind the soft drawl. ‘Ever since that first night we met, I’ve wanted to kiss you . . . properly. Do you expect me to deny myself when we may never meet again?’ Disturbed, she made no rejoinder, but turned aside to again trail her hand in the water. Dimly she realised that he knew the risk he was about to run, and was eagerly