The Marriage Solution. HELEN BROOKS

      ‘Quite a formidable lady.’ The thread of laughter in the mocking voice was unforgivable in the circumstances, and sheer anger kept her head up and her back straight as they walked through the reception area.

      Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of one or two interested but veiled glances in their direction, but just keeping up with his large strides was more than enough to contend with for the moment. She had absolutely no intention of following in his wake like a whipped puppy, she thought tightly as they reached the massive automatic doors together. He was the epitome of the arrogant, dominant male but the Tarzan-Jane concept of male and female had never appealed less than at this moment.

      The icy March wind was carrying chips of sleet on its breath as they left the hothouse warmth of the big building and she pulled her knee-length anorak more tightly round her as a big dark blue Mercedes purred to a halt in front of them, complete with chauffeur in matching uniform.

      ‘In you get.’ He opened the door for her and then followed her into the immaculate interior in one movement. ‘Your address?’ She gave it in a small voice that tried to be cool and assured but was merely... small.

      ‘Are you going to the hospital?’ They had travelled some minutes in complete silence but she had never been more aware of another human being in her life.

      ‘Later perhaps.’ Why couldn’t he have been old and bald? she asked herself as she turned her head to meet his gaze. A sympathetic uncle-figure who would have met her halfway? ‘My father doesn’t—‘ She corrected herself quickly. ‘The doctor thought it better to keep him quiet for the moment.’

      ‘Right.’ The intuitive grey eyes had narrowed at the slip but he made no comment, his face bland, and he turned to look out of the window into the grey world outside as the big car moved swiftly through the mid-morning traffic.

      The journey home was accomplished in about half the time the taxi had taken earlier and as they drew into the smart pebbled drive she found herself looking, as though for the first time, at the house she had been born in. Mellow, honey-coloured stone, leaded windows and a massive thatched roof stared impassively back; the huge oak tree that stood in the middle of the bowling-green-smooth lawn at the front of the house was as yet bare and naked against the winter sky.

      ‘You have a beautiful home.’ She jumped visibly as he spoke, and dragged her eyes away from the sight that had suddenly become so poignant with a tremendous effort.

      ‘Not for much longer, it would seem,’ she said flatly as she held out one small, slim hand for him to shake. ‘Thank you for bringing me home, Mr Reef. No doubt my father’s solicitors will be hearing from yours in due course.’

      ‘No doubt.’ He hesitated for the merest second and then, instead of giving the handshake she had expected, leant forward and brushed her lips with his own. As she leapt backwards like a scalded cat he climbed out of the car and offered his hand, his eyebrows raised in a distinctly sardonic tilt. ‘Allow me.’

      She gave him her hand reluctantly—a fact which the dark eyebrows took full note of—and slid out of the car with as much dignity as she could muster, considering her cheeks were glowing bright red and her mouth was burning from the brief contact with his.

      ‘Goodbye,’ she said again, a little breathlessly this time, as she stepped backwards a few paces from his large bulk and edged towards the house.

      ‘Goodbye.’ He didn’t smile or move and after a split-second of indecision she turned and ran up the steps to the front door, her only desire being to get into the safety of the house.

      Mrs Jenkins must have heard the car because even as she fumbled in her bag for her key the door opened and she almost fell into the hall in her eagerness to get inside. ‘Katie?’ Mrs Jenkins peered out into the drive before slowly shutting the door and hurrying to her side. ‘Who was that man?’ she asked worriedly. ‘And why was he looking at the house like that?’

      ‘Like what?’ Katie asked weakly, the relief at being home overwhelming. She didn’t know why but during the last few seconds in the car she had felt undeniably threatened—tenifyingly so.

      ‘Like...’ Mrs Jenkins’ voice faded away as she shook her grey head bewilderedly. ‘I don’t rightly know, but it wasn’t normal.’

      ‘He’s not a normal man, Mrs Jenkins,’ Katie said unsteadily just as the phone began to ring. It was the first of many calls that day from her father’s colleagues and business contacts who were already beginning to demand their pound of flesh.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘KATIE?’ Her sister’s voice was more irritated than concerned when they finally managed to contact her in her hotel in Monte Carlo later that afternoon. ‘What’s all this about Dad being taken ill? He’s never been ill in his life.’

      ‘Well, he is now,’ Katie said quietly, carefully keeping any trace of emotion out of her voice.

      Jennifer was a duplicate of their father temperamentwise, scorning any show of sentiment or warmth, single-minded when it came to her career as a top reporter for one of the national tabloids, and utterly ruthless when it came to having her own way. At twenty-eight, she was five years older than Katie and well able to afford a luxurious flat in the heart of London, her own expensive sports car and a wardrobe of up-to-the-minute clothes that she changed like her nail varnish.

      ‘It’s his heart.’

      ‘His heart?’ Her sister’s voice was scornful. ‘I didn’t know he had one!’

      ‘Jennifer!’ Katie’s voice expressed her outrage.

      Jennifer and her father had always held a mutual respect for each other’s inexorable character while recognising that they were too alike to get on if they saw much of each other. The sort of comment that Jennifer had just made was exactly the type her father would have given if the situation had been reversed, and neither would have taken umbrage, but just now... Just now she couldn’t take it, Katie thought painfully.

      Despite his wishes, she had been to see her father after lunch, stopping for just a minute or two and driving away shocked beyond measure at the change which had been wrought in him in just a few hours. He had been in a semidoze, never really waking, and to see his strong, lean and powerful body still and lifeless under the clinical hospital sheets had hurt more than she would have thought possible.

      ‘I’m sorry, Katie.’ Jennifer’s voice was impatient, which made the apology null and void. ‘How is he, then?’

      ‘Hard to say.’ She wasn’t going to make this easy for her, Katie thought with an uncharacteristic flare of anger—besides which, it was true. ‘He had a heart attack this morning but then, just before I got there this afternoon, he had another one. Lambeth said he’ll be OK once they get the medication balanced but, as in most things medical, nothing is for certain.’

      ‘Oh.’ She could tell the news wasn’t to her sister’s liking. ‘Well, I’ve nearly finished here so I suppose I could fly in in the next day or two,’ Jennifer said reluctantly.

      ‘There’s something else.’ Katie took a deep breath in preparation for the explosion. ‘Dad’s bankrupt.’

      ‘What?’Now she really had her attention, Katie thought grimly. ‘What do you mean “bankrupt”? You’re kidding me.’

      ‘I’d hardly joke at a time like this,’ Katie said quietly. ‘He’s mortgaged the house, the business and even the weekend cottage he bought for Mum originally, and there is an absolute mountain of debts. The cars, his boat, everything will have to go. I saw the solicitor this afternoon after I left the hospital.’

      ‘Oh, brilliant, just brilliant.’ Her sister’s voice was scathing. ‘What happened to the Midas touch he was always so proud of, then?’

      ‘Well, I think he’s paid for the loss of it, don’t you?’ Katie ground out through clenched teeth as she strove to keep