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'How much did you borrow?' she asked.

'Ten thousand pounds.'

Disbelief held her spellbound, but only for a moment. Then anger washed over her. 'I suggest you try the Mint,' she said furiously. '
I
can't help you.'

'You've got to! I'm desperate.'

'Where can I get that kind of money? If you think I'm going to ask Matt...'

'You won't need to. All you have to do is agree to marry him when he asks you.'

'Agree
to ...
What are you talking about, Tom?'

'I'm talking about what Mark told me. He says Bishop is going to propose to you when you're in Antibes. Apparently Helen's worried sick.'

'But how will this help you?' she asked, mystified.

'If you sign an agreement saying you'll accept Bishop's proposal and stay engaged to him for three months, Mark will give me the money to pay back Uncle Bill.'

'Mark?' Caroline was still puzzled. 'Why should
he
help you?'

'Because he wants to marry Helen, and he has no hope of doing so while Matt is still single. Helen is only using Mark to try and make Matt jealous, and Mark knows it.'

'And he's willing to give you ten thousand pounds on the chance that if I marry Matt, Helen will marry
him?'

'Yes.'

'He must love her very much,' said Caroline drily.

'Love has nothing to do with it.' Tom's grey-green eyes, so like his sister's, were bleak. 'When Matt bought Mark's family business he gave Helen a hefty whack of the shares and Mark would like to get his hands on them. If he did he would then have control of the company again.'

'That wouldn't make Matt very happy.'

'Matt couldn't care less. When he gave Helen the shares she was already engaged to Mark. So he must have had some idea of what would happen to them if they married. But with Helen refusing to name the day, Mark's getting increasingly impatient, and he's convinced she'll never do so till Matt is hooked. That's why he's willing to pay you ten thousand pounds to say yes when Matt proposes to you.'

Caroline started to giggle, then the giggle became a chuckle and suddenly she was choking with laughter.

'Ten thousand pounds to get engaged to Matt! You don't know how funny that is. I'd say "yes!" to him tomorrow—without any payment.'

Tom looked astounded. 'You would?'

'I'm in love with him, you idiot, and my one hope is that he
will
propose to me.'

'You really mean that? I thought you were stringing him along in the hope that he'd throw more work our way.'

'Well, you were wrong,' she assured him.

'I'm sure Mark doesn't think you're in love with him,' said Tom.

'Why not?'

'Because he's not in our class.'

'He certainly isn't!' For the first time Caroline felt dislike for her brother. 'He's streets above you and Mark. If he was asked a favour by a friend he'd do it freely, without trying to further his own interests— nor would he be willing to sell his sister the way you were prepared to sell me.'

'I only wanted you to stay engaged to him for three months,' he protested. 'But if you love him, you'll do it anyway.'

'Luckily for you!' Her anger increased. 'You had no business borrowing money from Uncle Bill, and then gambling it away.'

'I know,' Tom agreed. 'If you knew how frantic I've been these past few weeks! That's the only reason I mentioned it to Mark. We're not
that
friendly.'

'Mark must have been delighted. He can help you, and help himself at the same time.' Caroline glared at her brother. 'I wouldn't dream of marrying Matt without telling him the truth. I wouldn't want to start our life together with a secret.'

'It would make him dislike Mark,' Tom replied, 'and Helen would think you did it to create mischief.'

It was an aspect Caroline had not considered, but doing so she concluded that Tom might be right.

'You will do it, won't you, Carrie?' he pleaded.

'You've no compunction about taking money from Mark under false pretences?'

'They aren't false. He's paying you to accept Matt's proposal, and the fact that you'd do so without payment is beside the point.'

It was a false logic, but the knowledge that the money would go to repay Uncle Bill helped to salve her conscience. She nodded, then went to the door.

'I must go,' she said flatly, eager not to see any more of him. 'I'm already late for my appointment.'

'You'll have to sign an agreement,' Tom said hurriedly. 'Mark won't hand over the money until you do. Will it be all right if I arrange a meeting with Mark at his solicitor's offices tomorrow?'

'Yes,' she said tightly, and did not trust herself to say any more.

When she saw Matt that night, he commented on her pensive mood.

'I'm thinking of France,' she replied. 'We'll be together ten days in a row.'

'And ten nights,' he added.

She did not reply. If Mark was willing to put up ten thousand pounds in the belief that Matt would propose to her, he must be pretty sure of himself. Hope rose within her and she suddenly felt elated.

'Darling Matt,' she said, when he kissed her goodnight, and was so moved by tenderness for him that she returned his kiss with unusual intensity.

'Caroline,' he said huskily. 'You drive me crazy. What can I do?'

'Drink a glass of hot milk under a cold shower before you go to bed!' she replied, and gently closed her front door on him.

When
Caroline arrived at Mark's solicitor's Mark was already there.

'I know you don't approve of what I'm asking you to do,' he said solemnly, 'but try to see my side of it. I'll do anything to get control of my business again.'

'You mean you want me to do anything.' She made no effort to hide her contempt. 'I wouldn't be here if it weren't for my uncle, and my only concern is to see that he gets his money back.'

Mark reddened and said no more, and within half an hour Caroline had signed a document agreeing to accept Matt's proposal, and also to be bound by it for three months, or the money would have to be repaid in full.

She left with a terse goodbye and returned to her car, and once seated, took out her copy of the agreement and read it again. If Mark knew how she really felt about Matt, how furious he would be! She looked forward to the day when she could tell Matt about it. But she would have to choose the right time.

She was late arriving at the studios in St John's Wood where she was being photographed for a fashion spread in
Women's Monthly,
and the photographer was so annoyed that he peppered his conversation with crude words, knowing how much she disliked them.

By the time she was home again she was exhausted, but a warm bath revived her and she rushed to be
ready by seven-thirty when Matt was coming to pick her up. They went to the theatre, and although it was a play she had wanted to see, she found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind kept harping back to that morning, and she wondered when Matt was going to propose. Mark said it would be in the South of France, but would it be at the beginning of their stay or at the end?

'Relax,' Matt whispered into her ear. 'You're as tense as a coiled spring.'

'Sorry,' she whispered back, and made an effort to concentrate on the stage.

During dinner he kept up his usual light banter, and only when he left her outside her flat did he momentarily become serious.

'Don't forget to miss me for the next few days,' he said, 'and don't fall for anyone else.'

'Miss you?' she queried. 'Where are you going?'

'I'm going to France ahead of you. Mark's lined up a big French sportswear firm who'd like to buy into the brochure, but he needs my approval before finalising it.'

'Do you think he resents having to defer to you?'

'Maybe. But that's his problem, not mine.' He drew her close. 'I'm going to miss you, Sleeping Beauty. You wouldn't like to come down ahead with me?'

'Yes, but I won't!'

'I'll be staying on my yacht,' he whispered. 'It's even more swish than your hotel.'

'But not as safe.'

He looked disgusted. 'A beautiful blonde of twenty-four who wants to be safe!'

'It's better than being sorry!'

Matt laughed and let her go. 'See you next week, then. If you change your mind you only have to phone.'

Caroline missed Matt more than she had believed possible and decided to spend the weekend with her aunt and uncle in the country. Tom had already received his cheque from Mark, and had given it to her to give to Uncle Bill.

'Tell him that my business deal fell through, and I didn't need the money after all,' Tom instructed her.

With a feeling of relief Caroline handed the cheque to her uncle, who looked disappointed that his nephew's venture had not materialised.

'If only Tom would get a job,' he said, tugging at his small moustache. 'If he doesn't settle into something soon he'll fritter away his entire life.'

'He's doing a modelling job with me,' Caroline said. 'The offer came through Mark Ingle.'

'Didn't Bishop Industries buy him out?' her uncle asked.

Caroline nodded. 'I'm surprised you know.'

'I don't see why. Bishop's doings are always in the news. He's a tough nut, I hear.'

'A charming one,' Caroline said. 'I met him some time ago.'

Her aunt pricked up her ears. 'Anything serious, darling?'

Caroline hesitated before speaking, then decided to give them a hint that her relationship with Matt might turn out to be more than a casual one.

'I don't know him Well enough yet,' she added.

'But you'd like to know him better?'

'Yes, I would.'

'Don't be bowled over by his reputation,' her uncle warned.

'What a thing to say!' his wife protested. 'If Caroline was interested in money, she'd have married long ago. You know the opportunities she's had.' She smiled at her niece. 'If you like Matt Bishop go on seeing him, and trust your own judgment. Perhaps you'd like to bring him down for the weekend?'

'And get your aunt's judgment!' her uncle put in.

Caroline laughed. 'Perhaps I will when we come back from France.'

Caroline returned to London late on Sunday, counting the hours until she could see Matt. She was not sure whether he would be at the airport to meet her, and the next morning it took her some time to decide what to wear. Finally she chose a St Laurent pastel print dress, its subdued colouring enhancing the pearly gleam of her skin.

The journey to Nice took under two hours and while Tom talked to Lee Lloyd the photographer, Caroline spoke to his fiancée, Ann Webster. A slim brunette, she looked as if she would be more at home riding to hounds than lugging lighting around and loading cameras. She was an amusing girl and easy to talk to and had no illusions about Lee.

'He keeps putting off the final decision to get spliced,' she said. 'Sometimes I think he only promised to marry me in order to keep me working for him. You know Lee. It's work first, all the time with him.'

'You can always leave,' said Caroline.

'I love the guy.'

Caroline felt sorry for Ann. Lee, like most photographers she had worked with, was a bit of a lecher. Obviously he did not want to settle down yet, and who could blame him? He worked with so many beautiful girls that he would find it difficult to stay faithful.

'Have you modelled for Matt Bishop before?' Ann asked, interrupting her reverie.

'No, but I've been dating him.'

'Lucky girl! Is he as dishy as they say?'

'Dishier.'

Caroline was saved from further probing by the arrival of their lunch, and by the time they had finished Nice loomed ahead of them.

As they came out of the Customs, Caroline glanced round for Matt. To her disappointment she only saw his chauffeur, Frank.

'Mr Bishop sends his apologies,' he told her as he carried the luggage out to the gleaming white Mercedes, its black hood lowered in the warm sunshine, 'but he was called away to Milan on business and won't be back until this afternoon.'

Just the knowledge that Matt had wanted to meet her made Caroline feel happy, and she relaxed as they bowled along the highway through Cagnes-sur-Mer and then turned off the sea road into the country.

Their hotel, situated some ten minutes from Antibes, was a modern glass and concrete edifice set in extensive grounds, from which one could glimpse the sea. It was difficult to believe that only two and a half hours ago they had left a grey and cold spring day in London. Here it was like summer, and even the drabbest buildings seemed bright in the glare of the sun.

Standing at the desk while the clerk checked through their reservations, Caroline remarked on the decor.

'Mr Bishop will be happy you like it,' the clerk smiled. 'Although he has many other hotels, he always says this one is his favourite.'

She was taken aback. Matt had not mentioned that he owned the hotel. But then he very rarely spoke of his business interests. As the porter took her luggage up to her room, she reflected wistfully how little she knew about him.

Her bedroom on the third floor was tastefully furnished, with the bedcovers and curtains matching the print of the wallpaper, and the en-suite bathroom tiled in the same floral pattern. But the first thing that caught her eyes was the huge basket of red roses on a table in the centre of the room. Happily she reached out for the card. The message was short and to the point. 'Missed you! Counting the hours until tonight.' Her heartbeat quickened with excitement as she reread the note. So was she, she thought, twirling round the room and wondering if tonight was going to be the magic one when he proposed to her.

Frank was returning at seven-thirty to take them all to the yacht for dinner, and this gave her ample time to look around before getting ready. She unpacked quickly and asked Tom to join her, and together they strolled through the hotel. The four-storey building only contained fifty bedrooms, and each floor was decorated in the style of a different country: England, Italy, France and Spain. The dining-room was surrounded by a large terrace and they crossed it and went down the steps to the garden, where wrought-iron tables and chairs were waiting to be used.