She snatched a thick towel, wrapped it about her slender body and stepped out of the steaming, fragrant water, hurrying to answer the shrill summons before the caller rang off. She wondered if it might be Mark. He had driven away earlier without arranging a time to call for her the next morning. It was Steve. 'Steve!' she said, pleased but surprised. 'I didn't think you knew the number.' 'Mary Kenny obliged. How are you? I gather that you collapsed in Mark's arms this afternoon?' 'Is that the story?' Her tone was dry. 'It wasn't quite like that.' 'Are you all right?' 'Yes, of course. It was just a faint. Nothing to worry about.' Don't ask if I'm pregnant or even hint at it, she pleaded silently, fervently. He didn't. 'Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to come over? Officially, I'm on call but I can probably twist Jeff's arm. He owes me a favour.' 'I'm fine. Really.' Gillian was reassuring. 'I don't like to think of you on your own, love.' She was touched by the warmth of his concern, by the hint of affection in the casual endearment.
