The Bitter Price Of Love. AMANDA BROWNING

at the fine material of his jacket, laughing a little desperately as her eyes misted. ‘Oh yes, Eliot, do that! And I promise I’ll make you a good wife. We’ll be happy, won’t we?’ It was a cry from the depths of her despairing heart.

      ‘Ecstatically happy,’ he agreed as he released her and, with the eagerness of a small boy, crossed to his desk and buzzed his secretary. ‘Hilary, get them to send up a bottle of the finest champagne and two glasses, will you? And while you’re about it, ring my jeweller and have them bring round a selection of engagement-rings. Reba has just agreed to marry me.’

      Reba didn’t hear what Hilary said, but it obviously pleased Eliot, for he laughed and rubbed his hands. Shaking his head and grinning, he stood and stared at her as if unable to believe his luck.

      ‘You realise she’ll spread it all around the building?’ she said wryly. It was done now, a fact, and soon everyone would know. There was no turning back.

      ‘Who cares? I’m the happiest man alive right now, and I want everyone to know it!’ he declared, then sobered a little. ‘Come to think of it, I’d better tell my family soon. There will be hell to pay if they hear it through the jungle-drums first. What about your family? You can ring them from here if you like.’

      This was the awkward moment Reba had been anticipating, and she licked her lips, rubbing her hands along her skirt nervously. ‘They already know. I had to go home to England first, because my mother was taken ill.’

      Eliot was by her side in a second, urging her towards a leather couch and sitting down beside her. ‘Nothing serious, I hope?’