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steamed up. So maybe we got off on the wrong foot, perhaps I misjudged
you--'
'There's no perhaps about it.'
'O.K. So I owe you an apology.' But he hadn't made it, she thought as he
went on, 'You asked me once for a truce. It didn't last long, did it? Now I'm
asking. Can't we at least be friends, Noelle?'
Her heart beat unevenly as she stared down as though mesmerised by the
sight of the hand that rested on hers, a tanned hand with long, sensitive
fingers whose flesh seemed to burn where it touched hers. She had an insane
longing to know the touch of those fingers on other parts of her body, and it
was only with an effort of will that she was able to lift her head and meet his
eyes.
'And how long do you think it would last this time?'
'I don't know,' he said frankly, 'but I'd like to try. O.K. by you?'
'I suppose so,' she said-slowly, and then as his quick engaging smile lit his
face, she felt her own mouth part into an unwilling wavering response. 'But
no more cracks about marriages of convenience,' she warned.
'Not another word, ever,' he promised, 'hand on heart.' The readiness of his
promise was a little disconcerting. He needn't sound quite so positive, she
thought moodily.
'So it's friends then,' he said, 'and as we're cousins, "kissing cousins", I
believe the old saying goes, shall we seal the pact?' And before she had had
time to take in the full implications of his words, he had pulled her into his
arms.
'You're trembling,' he said wonderingly, and at her incoherent little cry, he
lowered his head, taking her mouth in a kiss that, whatever its original
intent, became something rather more than cousinly.
Noelle gave a strangled gasp in her throat as his hand slid down as though
accidentally over her breast, and even though his mouth had freed hers, so
that he could explore the column of her throat, for a moment she was quite
incapable of finding her voice, then, remembering his enthusiastic
agreement not to propose to her again, 'If you want us to stay friends for
more than five minutes,' she spat at him, 'don't do that again!' and she took
advantage of his sudden stillness to pull free, springing to her feet. 'You can
please yourself,' she told him tautly, 'but I'm going home.'
'Home?' he said sharply.
'To Claddagh, of course.' She gave a bitter little laugh. 'What did you think I
meant? Oh no, Fergus, whatever little tricks you try I'm not running away.'
'You're so right.' Fergus was hard on her heels, 'You're not reneging on our
agreement now, just as I'm beginning to see my way clear to getting
Claddagh out of debt.'
A debt that her help had gone a long way towards settling! Noelle seethed
furiously, as she walked back to the Hall. She had refused to get back in the
car and to her mingled relief and chagrin, he had made no attempt to coerce
her. After all, why should he care, she fumed, if she arrived tired, or
stumbled over some obstacle in the rapidly deepening darkness?
But she had meant what she had said. She wasn't meekly going to give in
and go back to England, whatever Fergus might try to do or say to annoy
her. She was staying, if only for Bridie O'Rourke's sake and that of the
house. This attempt at self- deception was a poor one at best, and Noelle
knew that the fascination Fergus, unknowingly, held for her, was not so
easily denied, that she was unwilling to leave the field clear for some other
woman to become not only mistress of Claddagh Hall but, more
importantly, Fergus's wife.
In view of her expressed determination not to be driven away, Noelle
decided to postpone her intended trip to London to discuss the future of
Noelle et Cie. But since she was anxious to talk over her ideas with John
Madox-Browne, she telephoned, asking him if he could spare the time to
come to Ireland.
'You're really serious about this?' They were walking in the grounds on his
first morning, and Noelle had laid before him the full extent of her plans. As
she nodded, 'But why, exactly?'
'That's more difficult to explain. It's just a feeling I've had, right from the
first moment I saw Claddagh, that I'd come home.'
'You know you always have a home with me, if you want it.'
'No,' Noelle said gently. 'Oh, I'm not being ungrateful, Uncle John, and I
know you mean it, now. But we're not really related and you're still a young
man, you may want to marry again some day. My home is here in Ireland, I
feel that strongly.'
'But what will the Cohens say about this?'
'I haven't spoken to them yet, but I will, soon. I think they'll jump at the
idea.'
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