Jane Donnelly - The Black Hunter (Harlequin Romance)

printed in Great Britain

Books you will enjoy by JANE DONNELLY

LOVE FOR A STRANGER

`I could do with a brother like you,' said Louise Latham to Tom Readingbut of course it didn't take her long to realise that a sisterly relationship was not what she wanted from him, and she was only too delighted when he asked her to be his wife. But it was only after she had committed herself to the marriage that Louise realised she didn't know the first thing about him...

TOUCHED BY FIRE

For years Fran had been prejudiced against Leon Aldridge, but when she was forced into proximity with him she began to realise she had been misjudging him, and their relationship became a much happier one. But she had always considered him something of an iceberg and it seemed that in that respect at least she hadn't been wrong about him..

FOUR WEEKS IN WINTER

Tessa wasn't looking forward to returning to her old home town and meeting Paul Mellor againshe had made a fool of herself over Paul once before and didn't want to repeat the experience. But was Orme Jared's solution to her problem likely to be the right one?

DEAR CALIBAN

Abigail Lansing had spent all her life in the shadow of her famous fatherand she hadn't minded a bit. Until she met Max Routlege, who told her firmly that she was allowing her father to run her life for her. Would she have to choose between the two menand if so, which one would she choose?

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distan tly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pure invention. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any me ans, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an in-formation retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

First published 1978

This edition 1978

Jane Donnelly 1978

ISBN 0 263 72670 3

The black Hunter by Jane Donnelly

When they were children Dora had been the young lady from the Manor and Coll Sullivan the despised tinker lad. But that was long ago and Dora had not seen Coll for years. Now, however, he had come back into her life againwith a vengeance, for meanwhile Dora and her family had had to leave the Manor, and the new owner turned out to be none other than Collwho had, to put it mildly, made good. It was all very unsettlingespecially as she also began to realise that she and her fianc Neil Hewlitt weren't suited. But why was she suddenly so sure about that?

'I HOPE you know what you're doing,' Simon Holcroft said very quietly to his sister, and she laughed,

'I should do, shouldn't I? At my age.'

She was twenty-six and could have passed for twenty anywhere, a long-legged girl, with a clear skin and grey-blue eyes and a mane of silky sun-streaked brown hair. In features she looked very like her brother, although at thirty there were lines on his face.

Dora's forehead was smooth and her wide mouth curved, smiling while she asked, 'Don't you think it's time I settled down?'

'I suppose so.'

'Don't you like Neil?' As Neil Hewitt was just the other side of the door she had to whisper that and Simon said,

'Yes, I like him.'

There wasn't much to dislike about Neil, who was nice-looking, intelligent and wholly reliable. Dora had been his secretary for the last two yearshe was an accountantand dating him for ages.

She suspected he would have proposed to her before now if his mother hadn't had doubts about Dora Holcroft as a daughter-in-law. Of course no girl would have quite satisfied Mrs Hewitt, and in the old days, before the money ran out, she would have been happier to welcome Dora.

There was no money now, Dora was a working girl with only her salary, and Mrs Hewitt considered her

flighty because she had been engaged twice before. Almost married once, with the wedding date fixed, and then she had developed cold feet and called the whole thing off.

This was a small Wiltshire village and that sort of thing was remembered. But now Dora was wearing Neil's ringhis mother's, actually, to denote her seal of approvaland this time there would be no last-minute panic.

That had been the trouble before. She had reached a stage where she had known that she couldn't marry the man. She had thought she loved each of them in their turn, and then the slow build-up of doubts had begun, and she had tried to understand what was worrying her.

She was warm and gay and generous, she couldn't be afraid of love. It had to be marriage she was afraid of, promising until death, because at the end all she could do was hand back the engagement ring and say, 'I'm sorry, I can't go through with it. I don't know why, but I do know it wouldn't work. Please forgive me.'

They hadn't forgiven her for a long time; nobody enjoys being jilted. But by now one of the men was married and the other had moved away, and for eighteen months Dora had been seeing Neil, out of the office as well as in it, and for the last six months he had been her sole and steady date.

When he first took her home she got a chilly reception. His mother was a widow and Neil was the apple of her eye, everything in that neat and shining bungalow was geared to Neil. There were photographs of him everywhere, the books were his books, his hi-fi half filled the living room. Mrs Hewitt spent the whole of that first evening discussing the illnesses that had

dogged his childhoodhe seemed to have been an un-lucky as well as a delicate child, he hadn't missed much. He looked healthy enough now, but his mother still pressed herbal tablets on him when he cleared his throat once.

Dora wondered if she was being warned that Neil could be a full-time nursing job, but he smiled good-humouredly at his mother, and apologised later that she fussed over him. He probably wouldn't expect his wife to do the same. 'You know what mothers are,' he said.

'Oh yes,' said Dora, although her mother had died when she was a baby.

After a few visits Mrs Hewitt brought out the photograph albums and Neil explained that that was a sign that she was beginning to take to Dora. Lately she had been quite affable, and she had accepted an invitation to tea in Dora's home, her sharp eyes inspecting the furniture and the polish on it.

Dora had done a thorough clean and shine up be-fore she'd asked Mrs Hewitt round. The little house looked charming and Dora produced some excellent home baking, and Mrs Hewitt seemed reassured.

Neil had proposed to Dora just a week ago. They had been out for a meal and Neil stopped the car on the way home, pulling in at the top of a hill, by daylight a venue for tourists who came to see the beaked white horse from pre-history, carved in the hillside. At night it was romantic up here, as the horse glimmered in the moonlight and the twinkling lights of villages spread out below.

Dora liked being kissed goodnight. She liked the feel of Neil's arms around her, and his comforting un-demanding kisses. Neil never went too far, and Dora

appreciated that; she felt they were building up a good relationship. Everything in its time.

Tonight he said, as he looked at her in the crook of his arm with her long brown hair flowing out around her, 'I love you.'

'I love you,' she said drowsily. Neil's kisses often made her feel drowsy. But this time that didn't seem to satisfy him, he was breathing faster and the arms around her suddenly held her tighter, and she thought oh dear, I don't think I'm ready for this, when he said,