In spite of her determination not to give Brand an inch, Isabella caught herself smiling too.'Daddy,' said Connie, frowning, 'you don't have a cat. And what's—what's ul—uliginous?''Growing in muddy and swampy places. Which would have described you nicely if I hadn't caught you. Now see here, Miss Ryder—'But Connie wasn't listening. Instead her big dark eyes were fixed on a fluffy white puffball nestled in an inside pocket of Brand's jacket. When the puffball started to squirm, and extended a black button nose, she let out a howl of delight that caused a passing and presumably deaf old gentleman to smile benignly, and his female companion to wince.'You've got a puppy!' she cried. 'Oh, he's so cute. Daddy, is he for me? Is he really?'Isabella's heart sank, and she felt a familiar urge to give Brand a good hard kick. Not that it was entirely his fault. She had meant to tell him a dog was impossible the first time the subject came up. But she hadn't done so because so much had happen

Instinctively she tried to press closer. Brand wouldn't let her. 'No,' he said drily. 'I asked you to come as my partner. Not as inspirational copy for the morning papers. Behave yourself, Isabella.'How dared he? When she knew from the smouldering intensity of his eyes and the tension straining every muscle of his body that he too was aching with need. But then she had sensed from the moment he arrived at her apartment that his control was held in place by only the very finest of threads.'You don't have to take out your frustrations on me,' she said, not caring much if the thread snapped right here on the dance floor. If it did, then she too could let go.Brand's nostrils flared. 'Frustrations?' He spun her into a turn. 'What makes you think I'm frustrated?'She gave him a sugar-coated smile. 'Aren't you?''Damn you, Isabella.' The words were a roughly growled caress, and in the same moment the band brought the number to a close. When it started up again with a faster, more overtly

'None at all.' Isabella began to move discreetly in the direction of the door.'Good. Good.' He made a noise like an engine that didn't want to start and levered himself slowly to his feet.Isabella edged round the arm of the sofa, but suddenly Felix stepped in front of her. 'It's been a pleasure. Belle,' he said in a throaty whisper.'Yes. Goodbye.' She stood to one side, giving him clear access to the door.'Just for old times' sake,' he said.'What?' She caught his intention just a second too late. As she started back Felix grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her towards him and planted a damp kiss on her indignantly closed lips.Isabella drew away from him at once. But already something in the atmosphere had changed. The air was cooler and—and someone who wasn't Felix had just hiccupped. At least it had sounded like a hiccup. She wiped the back of her wrist across lips that tasted of beer.Soon she would have to turn her head towards the door. She didn't want to, because she alre

'Yes,' he snapped.'Brand. It's Isabella—''So Mrs Crackitt said. What is it?'She wiped a thin film of moisture off her upper lip. 'It's Connie,' she whispered. 'Brand, she's disappeared.''What? What did you say? You'll have to speak up.''I said it's Connie.' Isabella was shouting now. 'She's disappeared.''Dis—What do you mean, disappeared?' He sounded more impatient than worried.Isabella explained. There was silence for a moment, and she felt as if she could actually hear him checking options and making snap decisions. Recriminations, she knew, would come later.'Right,' he said brusquely. 'You stay right where you are. In case she comes back. Have you called the police?''Not yet. I—''Then do it. And tell Edwina and anyone else who can help to keep on searching. I'll join them as soon as I can get there.'Brand was brisk, efficient and to the point. Isabella had no idea what he was feeling. Then he hung up.She passed the message to Edwina, who nodded, and left at once to get

'Forgive you?' She was bewildered now. 'But—Brand, I have nothing to forgive.'His mouth twisted. 'A week ago I might have agreed. A week ago I believed you were still the little man-eater I married in a fit of remorse, found myself falling in love with and then drove away one cold December night . . .' He started to reach for her, then his eyes narrowed and he let his hand drop back against his side. 'You're wearing my bracelet,' he said.Isabella felt the blood leave her face. Her heart was beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in a net. She took a step backwards and groped blindly for Brand's tall leather desk-chair. It had to be somewhere behind her.'What did you say?' she whispered, finding the chair and sinking into it.*I said, you're wearing my bracelet.'*Oh. Yes. It seemed—right.''It is right. I want you to wear it.'She smiled slightly. 'I'm glad. I want to wear it too. But I meant before that. Did—did I hear you say you found yourself falling in love? With me? I t