‘Maddy.’

He had stood up. She’d forgotten how tall he was when he was close to her. And how persuasive those wide blue eyes had always been. She could smell him; warm, clean, the expensive cologne reawakening a million memories. His hands were on her shoulders. She could feel the insistent pressure of his fingers though the thin T-shirt.

‘Just for old times’ sake?’

‘I thought that was the coffee?’ She tried to sound jokey and failed. ‘Don’t, Peter …’

‘Don’t’ still didn’t appear to be in Peter’s vocabulary. He kissed her. Maddy’s beleaguered senses registered relief. It was a kiss of friendship, his lips skimming lightly over hers.

For an instant. Then he pulled her against him, coaxing her lips apart, using his mouth to undo every ounce of resolve. Oh God! It was bliss to be kissed by him. It always had been. And she hadn’t been kissed properly for months …

His fingers fastened in the tangled fall of her hair, his knee edged its way between her thighs.

‘Excuse me? Is anyone at home? I tried the front door but no one answered. Oh!’ A darkly glamorous female face was framed in the skewwhiff window. ‘I’m most awfully sorry.’ The voice was laughing although the beautiful face was composed. ‘I did ring the front doorbell. It didn’t seem to work. Look, shall I come back when it’s, er, more convenient? I’m looking for Maddy – Maddy Beckett.’

‘And you’ve found her.’ Peter had transferred instant charm to the woman outside the kitchen window.

‘The back door’s open,’ Maddy gulped, pushing her hair out of her eyes. ‘Please come in.’

‘I can call back later if this is a bad time …’

‘No, I’m just leaving.’ Peter’s voice had resumed maximum huskiness as he looked at Maddy. ‘Aren’t I?’

‘You are.’ She was hotly disgusted with herself. He had always been able to do it to her – but never again. Never, ever again.

The dark woman was hovering uncertainly in the dog-leg bend between the scullery and the kitchen.

‘I’m Maddy Beckett.’ Maddy extended a damp hand.

‘Caroline Fitzgerald.’ The hand was taken in a cool grasp.

‘Peter Knightley,’ Peter grinned, ‘and I’m just leaving.’ He turned to Maddy. ‘I’ll ring you some time.’

‘No, don’t. Just give Stacey my condolences.’

Peter was still laughing as he closed the door.

‘I’m terribly sorry.’ Maddy indicated the chairs. ‘Please have a seat. Can I make you coffee?’

‘Would it be awful if I asked for tea?’ Caroline sank gracefully into the seat Peter had vacated. ‘I’m simply gasping, and we’ve got the water cut off at Peapods. In fact I think we’ve got everything cut off. That’s why I came over now. The place is swarming with builders, Drew is tearing about calming the horses, and I can’t find anything.’

Maddy gave her a smile of understanding. She was going to like Caroline Fitzgerald.

As she made the tea, Caroline explained that Drew had written a sheaf of notes for her and left them on the kitchen pin-board. ‘Shadows – Cleaning – Maddy Beckett – Cottage Opposite – Green Roof’ had sounded like a very good idea in the middle of the mayhem. ‘Although, of course, it obviously wasn’t the ideal time to call.’