'I've never seen you in any- thing but black, white and grey. Now suddenly you're in Technicolor.' He surveyed her moodily. 'You look—amazing. But I feel as if I've never known you at all.' Cally stifled a sigh. 'I didn't intend that you should,' she said quietly. 'Because I wasn't planning to stay. And I'm just here to clear my desk,' she added. 'Not part bad friends.' 'And I had no idea your name was Caroline until Tempest said it,’ he went on, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Why did you call yourself Cally?' She shrugged defensively. 'When I was learning to talk, that was all of Caroline I could manage. It—stuck.' He shook his head. 'No wonder I never stood a chance. He's a rich man, isn't he? A multimillionaire.' There was a note of self-pity in his voice that jarred on her. 'And you've let him buy you.' Have I? Cally thought. Then, if so, why am I paying the price? Aloud, she said wearily, 'Kit—let's not over-dramatise the situation. I'm going back to my husband—that's all. It was bound to happen sooner or later.' At least that's what I have to believe.
