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But there was also the concern she’d seen twice now in Paul O’Hara’s gaze; something seemed to tell her it was concern for her. Yes, possibly over a twisted ankle today, but yesterday there’d been that question mark, the definite question mark, about her relationship with Max Goodwin.

She went still as it occurred to her that, as part of the family, Max’s cousin probably knew better than most that Max and Cathy would never get over each other.

But they’d been apart for siX years, hadn’t they? And not that long ago he’d claimed he hadn’t even thought about her for a long time.

She stared out of the window unseeingly. On the other hand, he hadn’t married anyone else in siX years and, surely, if there was a significant woman in his life she’d be part of these social functions for the Chinese consortium delegation?

She shook her head and forced herself to concentrate on what was the

cruX of the matter for her—if Max Goodwin was not for her, she’d learnt one thing in life painfully we