Euphoria

The icy wind seemed to bite right through to her skin, and she was

shivering by the time she stood in the large hall.

It felt cold and slightly damp, and as though aware of her thoughts,Dwayne said quietly, "I intend to have central heating installed in

the spring. Come on, we'll go into my study; it's warmer in there."

Annabelle stood to one side as he knelt by the dying embers of the fire

and threw on some fresh logs. A shower of sparks raced up the chimney, the scent of apple logs filling the room. He hadn't bothered to switch on any lights, and the dancing flames licking round the logs cast mellow shadows over the shelves of books. A pair of thick velvet curtains had been drawn against the night, and Annabelle fingered the fabric absently.

"This is rather a large house for a single man..." Her skin flushed

hotly as she realised that she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

Dwanye threw another log on the fire and dusted off his hands before standing up.

"It affords me a welcome degree of privacy, and it's convenient for

almost everywhere in the practice. I had to find somewhere in a hurry,

and it was either this, or a Victorian terrace in Setondale."

So he hadn't bought the house with marriage and a family in mind.

"Marlene thinks it's got good potential," he added casually, tossing the words at her over his shoulders as he moved towards one of the

cupboards and removed a decanter and two glasses.

Annabelle watched him pour the ruby liquid through a red haze of

jealousy. It bit into her with flames that burned hotter than those

devouring the apple logs, scorching her like corrosive acid. She could

barely see through the rage of jealousy and hurt roaring through her body, and her wayward tongue raced into hasty speech before she could

silence it, her voice unnaturally high and hurried as she cried

bitterly, "Does she now? I'd be very surprised if she agreed to settle

up here, though, Dwayne. I realise that she wants you very badly, but

I should have thought Harley Street was more what she has in mind than

Setondale."

Like someone caught up in a nightmare, she froze as she watched Dwanye tense and then put down the decanter. Prisms of light from the fire glittered off the crystal, and she was amazed that her brain could take

note of such trivia when it also knew the enormity of what she had just

said.

There was no kindness in the way he smiled at her as he turned to face

her, and it seemed to Annabelle in her fear that there was an almost

demonic quality to the way his skin seemed stretched tight over his

facial bones.

"Well, now," he said softly, 'that's a revealing statement if ever I heard one. You wouldn't be jealous of her, by any chance, would you?"

Appalled by what her unruly tongue had trapped her in, Annabelle blazed

furiously, "What could I be jealous of? The fact that she goes to bed