CHAPTER 3

Astoria and Narcissa talked incessantly, discovering a mutual respect, the older witch expressing pleasure over her son's choice. "I must admit when I first saw you I thought he'd landed me with some brainless beauty, but having got to know you, I think you will be ideal. You're young and full of life, which is what Bella needs, at the same time you're sensible. I know you'll stand no nonsense."

Astoria smiled. "Thank you, Mrs Malfoy. I shall certainly do my best. May I take a shower and get changed? It's been a long tiring day."

It was only early in the evening, but she felt exhausted, after being so close to Draco she was drained.

"How remiss of me!" Narcissa looked angry with herself. "It was so nice talking to you I'd forgotten. You must be hungry too. I'll have a house-elf fix a meal while you wash."

"Your room's through that door, third on the left. The bathroom's opposite. Take your time."

Astoria gave Narcissa her arm. She was no light weight and leaned heavily on her. It had not been apparent when she was sitting that she was a tall woman, taller than Astoria.

With her stick, she managed to make her way into the kitchen and Astoria went along to her room. The yellow room! Aptly named indeed. Sunshine yellow walls, a white bedspread sprigged with tiny lemon flowers, matching curtains, white furniture and a green carpet.

A pleasant room, a happy room. She would like it here. Only one thing marred it. A grey dress and white pinafore laid out on the bed. Black lace-up shoes on the floor. Ugh! If he thought she was going to wear them he was mistaken.

Curtains shielded the sun's glare, keeping the room cool. Astoria pulled them back, leaning out of the open window, she inhaled the sea air that teased her nostrils.

The view was more perfect than anything she had ever seen. Draco was forgotten, the uniform was forgotten. This was like heaven on earth.

In the far distance, she glimpsed the blue sea. Closer to home the English cottage garden was almost over taking the manor with roses, shady trees and wisteria climbing up to reach the sun. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, and it was with reluctance that she turned back into the room. A sweet heavenly paradise indeed.

Quickly she unpacked, then took a peek into Bella's room, which communicated with hers by an adjoining door. This too was bright and cheerful and was filled with more toys than a toyshop, bought probably to try and coax Bella out of her black depression. It was not material things she wanted, thought Astoria, possessions could not make up for the loss of her mother—or the terrible traumatic ordeal she had been through.

She thought she heard Draco's voice and scuttled into the bathroom, bolting the door. The bathroom had an old clawfoot tub that would be lovely to soak in, and when she padded back to her room, wrapped only in a towel, she was horrified to discover Draco waiting for her.

"I wanted to make sure you wear your uniform." He sat on the edge of the bed, long legs outstretched, arms behind taking his weight. The expression on his face was difficult to read. It was as though he was daring her to defy him as if he was looking forward to a verbal battle.

Astoria knew she would not disappoint him. "I don't agree. I think Bella will not trust me when she sees it. She needs a friend, someone to understand her, someone with whom she can communicate. If I wear that I'll get nowhere."

"And what do you know about children?" His frown deepened. "I sure as hell hope you don't think this will be one big holiday, that you're here to play with Bella and do nothing else. You're here to work."

"And you're hardly likely to let me forget it," she snapped.

"Because I'm afraid you all too easily could."

Their eyes met and held, and Astoria became suddenly conscious that beneath the towel she was naked. She drew it more tightly about her and as though following her line of thought he said, "Don't worry, you're quite safe. I wouldn't taint my hands on you."

"Why, you—" Astoria was so shocked that she lunged at him. But the towel slipped and she grabbed that instead. "You callous swine, how dare you!" The unusual green of her eyes turned luminous in her pale face. "I'm as good as you any day. Although come to think of it, I don't think I'd like you to touch me. You repulse me, do you know that? My skin would crawl if you so much as laid one finger on me."

The muscle working in his jaw should have warned her. He leapt from the bed with amazing agility for so big a man. His eyes were murderous, hands outstretched towards her neck. She did not have time to back away before he was upon her.

Never had Astoria felt so afraid. His treatment of her yesterday was nothing compared to the stranglehold he had on her now. She kicked and punched, but her bare feet and slight strength made no impact. Caught again, a foolish repeat of yesterday.

And then, as suddenly as he had attacked, she felt his grip relax.

Instead of her throat, it was her head he clasped, moulding it between his long firm fingers, a strange silver light gleaming from his eyes.

The next moment he was kissing her.

His mouth worked on hers with savage brutality, and shock numbed her. She stood like a dummy, involuntarily submitting, vaguely aware that somewhere beneath her paralysed anger she found his kisses far from unpleasant. It was a disquieting discovery, and not the first time she had felt an unwitting response to his total male magnetism. He was one hell of a man, and she doubted he ever had a girl refuse him anything.

She also knew that if he did not stop kissing her soon she would be in danger of revealing the effect he was having on her. Already her head was spinning crazily and she had an insane urge to press against him, feel the hardness of his bones, the power in those muscular thighs.

Draco must have felt the relaxing of her tension, because the next moment she was free, thrust from him abruptly. Malicious satisfaction appeared on his angular face, but before he could speak his mother called.

"Our tea is ready," he said tersely. "Be quick." He spun on his heel and left and Astoria allowed the towel to fall, looking with distaste at her body through the mirror. It had let her down! Her long sculptured limbs, her firm moulded breasts, and the fickle heart that beat within.

They had all wanted this man, had experienced moments of profound, insane desire.

She felt suddenly unclean and had there been time would have taken another bath, a Scourgify wouldn't do even if she had her wand. She wanted to scrub away the lingering smell of him, the feel of his hands. Her skin had crawled, oh yes, but for an entirely different reason.

A tremor ran through her and with an angry self-deprecating gesture she turned away. She pulled on a pair of white lacy briefs and matching bra, eyed the grey dress speculatively, then deliberately pulled a pretty pink cotton sundress from the wardrobe.

A few minutes later she followed the sound of voices and discovered Draco and his mother in the kitchen. It was a large airy room, Coolly tiled in blue and white. One end was used as a dining area with a round table and chairs, and gay blue checked tablecloth.

At the table sat Bella, a chubby cherubic-faced little girl with a mass of black ringlets. But Astoria managed no more than a swift glance before Draco barked, "Your uniform, where is it?" And anyone looking at the cold light in his eyes would never have guessed that a short while ago he had been kissing her.

"I—I chose not to wear it." She looked from him to his mother. Her defiance, she felt, had not gone unnoticed by her charming employer, and the woman smiled now and nodded.

"You're archaic, Draco. As Daphne pointed out to me earlier, things have changed. And if you bought it you've wasted your money. Daphne's confessed she's not a trained nanny, so I know she wouldn't possess one. Besides, I don't think it would be a good thing—for Bella's sake. Come and meet Bella, Daphne dear."

Astoria darted him a quick sidelong glance, wicked triumph in her green eyes. He looked thunderous, his lips in an even thinner line than usual, hands clenched at his sides. It felt good to have scored against him, though she knew her pleasure might be short-lived. It displeased him to have his authority overridden.

Now, though, Bella was of paramount importance.

Narcissa had slid awkwardly and painfully into the seat next to her granddaughter. "Bella, my darling, this is Daphne." Astoria had already asked Mrs Malfoy to allow the child to call her Daphne, insisting that a formal Miss Greengrass was likely to put her off before they even got to know one another. "She's come to live with us and she's going to look after you and take you out and you'll do all sorts of exciting things together. Won't that be nice?"

"Yes, Nana," said the girl dutifully.

Astoria smiled warmly. "Hello, Bella." The tiny witch had the Malfoy's beautiful grey eyes, but instead of being laughing and full of mischief as one would expect of a child her age, they were expressionless.

Deep haunted pools mirrored the appalling scene she had witnessed, locking into her mind the stark terror she had felt, hiding her grief.

A lump of emotion rose and Astoria swallowed hastily. "I do hope we're going to be friends. I need one. I don't know anyone here at all except your father and nana."

Wide, unblinking eyes fixed upon her, but the girl said nothing. Astoria wondered what was going through her mind. She glanced at Narcissa, who gave a slight shrug. Astoria had already learned that Bella rarely responded, speaking only when necessary, or when her grandmother insisted on good manners.

Most children through phases where they sulked and refused to speak, so Astoria was not entirely daunted. "You'll have to show me where everything is, tell me what you like doing, and I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time."

She sensed Draco's eyes on her, and looking round saw the glimmer of surprise, the frown of puzzlement. She smiled at him, surprising him still more. It was evident he found her treatment of his daughter unexpected. She turned back to the girl. "Are you hungry, Bella? I am. I could eat a horse!"

The saying made her giggle when she was a child, her vivid imagination working overtime. But not a muscle moved in Bella's solemn little face. Astoria had no doubt, though, that she would eventually get through to her. If she didn't it wouldn't be for the want of trying.

One look at the enchanting little child, one sight of those haunted eyes, had endeared Bella to her. No sound of her mother's shrillness, no sight of her namesake's insanity in her eyes. Right now she felt like hugging and kissing her, giving her the love she so desperately needed.

Narcissa had done her best, trying everything possible to make Bella forget. But to Bella, she was simply her grandmother, and very, very old. She needed a younger person, a replacement for her mother. Though why she should presume to put herself in that position Astoria did not know!

Something had happened to her in the few minutes she had spent in Bella's presence. Not the challenge of the job, nor the sympathy she undoubtedly felt; much more. A strange magnetic force joined them. Somewhere inside Bella was a trigger. When she found it, when she released the happy little girl inside, there would grow a bond between them.

Her own confidence amazed her. It could be a dangerous situation.

Her job here was temporary. Once Draco decided she had paid her supposed debt he would ship her back to England—and that would be the end of that. If she managed to win Bella's confidence, her departure could cause another setback.

Or had she perhaps too high an opinion of herself? No one was indispensable. Once the child had pulled out of her shocked state it wouldn't matter who looked after her. Children were resilient, springing back like a ball on the end of a piece of elastic. Bella's only disadvantage was that she had suffered more than most.

Mrs Malfoy signalled to the silent house-elf to serve them and Draco sat next to her Astoria was conscious of his disapproval deepening. He had hoped she would not fit in, that she would find the going hard, and resented already his mother's acceptance and her easy manner with Bella.

It was a cold meal; ham, a rich salad, crusty bread and a strawberry tart for dessert, it all looked delicious to Astoria.

Bella picked at the food her grandmother put on her plate. Narcissa did not interfere; probably, decided Astoria, having learned the wisdom of not forcing her to eat what she did not want.

Draco, however, frowned tightly. "Eat your bread, Bella, and stop fidgeting!"

The little girl jumped visibly, his harsh voice frightening her.

Astoria instinctively reached out and touched Bella's arm, and was startled herself when she flinched away. She glared at Draco, hissing savagely, "Now look what you've done? Haven't you more sense? Why take your temper out on her?" and then felt distinctly uncomfortable as his mother looked across, her fine brows arched reprovingly.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately, "I shouldn't have said that, it's not my place." But how could she stop herself? He was so stupid, so incredibly ignorant where Bella was concerned.

Narcissa's lips unexpectedly quirked. "Draco deserved it. He's like his father, has little patience—as I expect you've already discovered?"

Oh yes, she knew that all right, but would it be wise to admit it? She risked a glance from beneath her long lashes. He stared at her with such cold hostility that Astoria felt a shiver run through her. It was not herself who should be on the receiving end of his hatred. It was very unfair—even though it had been her own idea to shield Daphne.

Abruptly he scraped back his chair. "I'll have a word with you later. Excuse me, Mother."

When he had gone Astoria sighed and grimaced ruefully. "Mrs Malfoy, I really do apologise. I forgot for a moment my—er—position here."

"I think," said his mother, watching her closely, "that you were already feuding before you arrived, and that your response was instinctive. I confess I'm frankly puzzled by his attitude towards you, but it's not in my nature to interfere, and you both have a right to your private lives."

Astoria smiled weakly. "You're very good to me. I don't deserve it."

Narcissa shook her head. "My main concern is Bella. I would like your promise that you will not argue with my son in front of her again. It's not good for any child to listen to grown-ups rowing, but Bella is even more sensitive. I try never to upset or frighten her."

Astoria knew that in the nicest possible way she had been chastised and blamed Draco for it. Why the hell couldn't he Apparate back to England and leave her to get on with her job?

Except that she knew there was no chance of that. He would hang around for as long as it took to witness what he hoped would be her struggle to survive against the odds he thought he had loaded against her.

But she was not Daphne! Had Daphne been here now she would have loathed the situation. She would have had no time at all for Bella and would probably have attempted to lure Draco into an affair. If this was what he had expected it was no wonder he was disgruntled.

"I'll do my best, Mrs Malfoy," she said, realising she had not yet given her promise.

The woman nodded. "I'm sure you will. Now, Bella, how about some dessert? It's got strawberries in, your favourite, and I'm sure Daphne's going to have some too. It's really rather delicious."

Astoria concentrated her attention on Bella and managed to persuade her to eat most of the delectable tart, feeling by the end of the meal that she had made progress, slight though it was. The child had not spoken or smiled, tasting a spoonful when coaxed, seeming not to care whether she ate or not.

But there had been no outright refusal as Astoria had feared.

"Perhaps you'd like to take Bella out into the garden before bedtime?" suggested her grandmother. "I really must rest my hip."

ooo

Bella dug at the soil under a lavender bush, covering herself in the dirt, Astoria was concerned by the number of bees hovering but she didn't want to upset the girl.

"Are you digging to China?" She shakes her head, a thumb still in her mouth for comfort, no doubt eating dirt.

"Bella, how about you help me water the flowers?" Astoria started filling a watering can no doubt never used by the elves. She thought to herself, children generally liked to be included with adults. It's good for them to turn chores into games.

She placed a chair in front of the water trough and knelt Bella on it, and soon she was up to her elbows in the water splashing the water out. Once Astoria filled the watering can and filled an empty flower pot for Bella, the two of them watered some of the flowers.

Bella was soaked through to the skin by the time she had finished, but Astoria felt she had enjoyed it, even though the hoped-for smile had not yet appeared.

"I think we'll pop you in the bath now," said Astoria, "and then you can show me your toys and I'll read you a story. Would you like that?"

Another nod. "Then come and kiss Nana goodnight." Astoria held out her hand, but Bella was not yet prepared to take that step, following a few paces behind instead.

Astoria was surprised to see Draco sitting with his mother, and wondered whether he had heard her chattering to Bella and if so what he had made of it. His eyes were enigmatic, almost as expressionless as Bella's.

The infant went dutifully to her grandmother. "My goodness, you're soaked! What have you been doing?"

Astoria smiled. "She'll improve with practice. I'm going to bathe her now."

"And then I expect you'll be ready for bed yourself?"

"I wouldn't mind," she admitted. Her limbs were already aching with fatigue. It had been a long and difficult day.

"After you've given me a few minutes of your time," drawled Draco, eyeing her closely.

"Really, Draco," said his mother sharply, "won't it wait until tomorrow? The poor girl's ready to drop, surely you can see that?"

He shrugged. "I prefer to speak to her now."

While you're still in a bad mood! The words tumbled to Astoria's lips, but with great restraint, mindful of Mrs Malfoy's warning, she held them back.

"My room is the other side of Bella's," he said. "Come to me when you're finished."

His mother looked shocked. "And what's wrong with in here?"

His smile did not quite reach his eyes, it curved his lips, but that was all. "What I have to say is for Daphne's ears alone, not you, my dear Mother."

"You could take her outside. It's not right having a girl in your bedroom."

Mockery lifted his dark brows. "I thought Daphne had convinced you times had changed? But don't worry, I'm not going to seduce her."

"Draco!" His mother was outraged.

Astoria turned away quickly. "Come on, Bella, let's go."

ooo

She spent longer than she intended playing with her new charge.

Even then she could not bring herself to go to his room. What was the point of walking into an argument?

But she did not get undressed. She sat on the edge of her bed and waited. He did not disappoint her. In less than ten minutes the door swung open, springing back on its hinges, and if Draco had been capable of breathing fire she reckoned he would have done so at that moment. His nostrils were dilated, eyes sending out silver darts, jaw firm and inflexible. The Dragon was back, ready for battle.

His hair was damp as if he had showered, and he wore nothing but a silky robe belted around his middle. His legs were muscled and tanned, with a smattering of pale hairs.

She wondered whether this was his usual garb when inviting members of the opposite sex to his room. Mrs Malfoy would undoubtedly throw a fit if she saw him. Astoria was already discovering that her views were not very modern.

"You didn't come! Why?" The accusation shot across the room and Astoria felt herself stiffen involuntarily.

She stood up, her chin tilted, her sleek short hair framing her elfin face. She did not realise how attractive she looked, with her cheeks flushed from the heat in the bathroom and her efforts to cajole Bella into some sort of response. She had failed—but it was early days yet.

Draco's lips twisted as he drew in a breath, his face becoming even grimmer. "Answer me, damn you! What right have you to defy me?"

"Every right!" she cried. "Why should I come to you when I know damn well that you're going to execute me?"

"Yet you waited here! Why didn't you get into bed if you intended to ignore me?"

He advanced into the room, kicking the door so that it slammed and she knew his mother would hear.

"Because," she said tightly, "I expected you."

"And me seeing you half-naked once was more than enough?"

"Judging by the state of you now it was what you hoped," she cried and moved warily around him. "I think it might be best if the door—was left open."

"Oh, no!" He was there before her, and so close that she could see the flecks in his eyes, and smell again that tantalising aftershave which would forever remind her of him. "I've discovered that you're not as immune to me as you would have me believe. Not that it came as any surprise. It's a good act you're putting on, I'll admit that. But don't forget I know the true you. You're a sexy little witch, and it won't take much to crack the thin shell you've pretended to erect."

Astoria let him get on with it. He had a pretty good picture of Daphne.

Not a pleasant one, but unfortunately a fairly accurate one.

"When I want you I shall take you, but I'm not ready for that yet. You're quite safe."

Astoria could not help it. She lifted her arm and before he knew what was happening slapped him across his face, feeling satisfaction at the sound of flesh against flesh.

He did not hesitate, he hit her back, and she clapped a hand to her cheek, looking at him in surprise.

"No one does that to me and gets away with it," he growled. "Though God knows why you pretend to be outraged when back in London it was what you were angling after."

"Wishful thinking on your part," she snapped before she could stop herself. She was about to follow it up with, "I'm not like that," but remembered just in time that it was Daphne he thought he was addressing. How complicated it was all becoming, and how she wished she had never started the whole sorry affair. It was ridiculous to think she could pretend to be her sister when they were so different in their ways.

Consequently, her wide green eyes were reproachful as she looked at him, and he frowned as if wondering what was going through her mind. "I wish I could believe you." His quick flare of temper had subsided, but he was still in a foul mood and Astoria knew that there was much more to come.

"I cannot understand you, Daphne." He folded his arms, leaning back indolently against the door, his eyes keenly assessing.

His regard disturbed her, though she affected not to show it, staring back at him coolly. She was vitally aware of the virile man beneath the robe. His legs were strong, thighs heavily muscled, and in the gaping vee at his neck, she caught a glimpse of a powerful chest. His waist was slim, hips narrow, and he had long feet, the nails on his toes as immaculate as those on his hands.

A quiver ran through her and she shook her head and made herself look away. This was insanity. "Why can't you understand me?" She had to say something, she had to break the spell he was casting over her.

"You're a different witch. Either you're a darned good actress or some magic has happened and you've reformed overnight."

She smiled wryly. "Let's hope for a miracle, shall we? Is that all you want to say?"

"You'd like that?" But suddenly he smiled too, and she realised that his lips were not as thin as they appeared. They were quite fully really, nicely shaped and—she checked her thoughts. She was getting as bad as her sister!

"No, I want to know what you've been saying to my mother. She surprised me when she said you'd admitted you were not a trained nanny. What did you say that for?"

"Because, Mr Malfoy, sir, she asked where I'd trained. I don't like telling lies, so I told her the truth."

"Which was?"

She sighed. "That I liked children."

He looked amused. "You don't like telling lies, eh? So what was that, little white ones that don't count?"

Her even white teeth bit on her lower lip. Another mistake! "Your mother believed me, and you must admit it sounds genuine enough. I'm not that selfish that I'm willing to do my share in the house."

"But with what reluctance? Heaven help the man who marries you! Unless he has a houseful of elves I can see him doing all the work himself—including bringing up the kids!"

Astoria looked at him, wondering how a man as physically attractive as he could harbour such unpleasant thoughts. It was heaven help the girl who married him! She would be under his thumb, he would rule her with a rod of iron, and pity her if she ever crossed him.

"Have you nothing to say to that?" Draco obviously found her silence puzzling. A frown creased his brow and he unfolded his arms, almost as if to make a move towards himself but restraining himself.

She shrugged, lifting her slim bare shoulders. There was something missing. Her hair! She was so used to the feel of it brushing against them. Resentment tightened her. lips. She would never forgive him for cutting it. Never! "Only that I didn't realise you had such a low opinion of me."

He laughed harshly, an explosive sound in the tiny room. Except that it was not small. It was quite spacious, but with him in, he dwarfed everything and it felt crowded. There was not room for the two of them.

"I liken you to a worm, a crawling insect. If I could I would grind you beneath my heel. That's what I think of you, dear little dishonest Astoria. Never for one minute think that I might forget the real reason you are here. I might put on an act for my mother's benefit, much as you're doing, though even that will be hard. I despise you more than words can ever say."

Astoria wished she was indeed a worm so that she could wriggle away into a hole and hide. Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she strove desperately to think what Daphne's reaction would be. She could not take much more of this. It was stupid allowing herself to be persecuted for something she had not done.

Daphne would fight back, there was no doubt about that. She would use her sexuality to her advantage and have Draco Malfoy eating out of her palm in no time at all. Or at least if she didn't it wouldn't be for the want of trying.

But could she do that? She was Astoria, not Daphne. She was not used to flaunting herself. It was against her nature to flirt with any man. She preferred the old-fashioned method when the man approached the girl.

"Tears?" He saw the brilliance in her eyes. "Upset you, have I? Or is this another act? You think maybe I'll have a change of heart if I realise I've distressed you? Think again, oh cunning one," It will take more than tears and soft appealing eyes, pretty though they are, especially when you cry. Like great luminescent orbs." Draco Malfoy would not bend or be broken.

He strode towards her, looking closely. Astoria stepped back a pace, her vision blurred. She saw nothing but a giant of a man, his body stiff with rage—and she was afraid.

She put out her hands to ward him off but had not realised he was quite so near. When her fingers touched hard muscles sheathed in silk she jumped instinctively.

He caught her hands and held them flat against his chest and she could feel the steady beating of his heart. Her own raced in response, though she was sure it was more from fear than a physical response.

She blinked rapidly and tried to focus, but all she could see was a hard bony face and shuttered eyes. "What are you doing?" She tried to pull her hands from beneath his, but it was impossible.

Draco did not answer. Perhaps he thought that such close proximity would bring out Daphne's true nature. Perhaps he was hoping for something more after all, despite his cutting words.

Astoria, in this situation, would certainly have slid her arms around him, possibly unbelting the robe and moving her fingers intimately over the smooth firm skin of his back. Astoria closed her eyes. Even thinking of what her sister might do quickened her own heartbeat, made her aware of Draco's intense masculinity, and she knew that she had to be careful.

He was a dangerous man to play with, fully aware of his magnetism. He was trying to tempt her. It would delight him if she succumbed. But then what? He would reject her with malicious pleasure, take her to the heights and then drop her like a red hot coal.

He was devious Slytherin, and cruel, and quite the most hateful person she had ever met, and she must free herself quickly!

She tugged and pulled, but although he allowed her to break contact with his body he still held her wrists. The two of them imprisoned in one long narrow hand, his brown fingers spread tightly around them.

"There is one other thing." His eyes glittered and she knew it amused him to see her struggle, to yield to his power. He thought he was the master; little did he know that he had the wrong witch.

He let go of her wrists suddenly, catching instead the thin straps of her dress, pulling them so tightly she felt sure they would snap. "There is one other thing. Why did you choose to wear this? Why did you go against my wishes?"

"If you were a woman would you wear that uniform?" she asked crossly.

"If it went with the job, yes," he said. "It's no different from a soldier or a sailor. It's made for the purpose."

"Maybe," she said tightly. "But I'm not a trained nanny, and I'm not wearing it, and now; I have your mother on my side as well. So what are you going to do about it?" She stared up at him belligerently. Would he risk using Imperio to make her biddable?

He frowned harshly, deep lines running between his eyes. "I don't have much choice—unfortunately."

"Then I'll make you a present of it," she said, laughing. She spun away, forgetting he held her dress, heard to her horror the sound of tearing the material. The straps came away in his hand. The dress held up, just.

Astoria clamped her arms to her sides and said thickly, "Get out!"

Draco looked amused and he toyed with the strips of material in his hand. "A pity I tore it. A bigger pity I didn't make a better job of it. You have a very beautiful figure, Daphne. I'd like to see more."

"And I'd like to spit in your eye," she cried savagely. "For Merlin's sake, get out!" She turned her back on him, and waited, unable to force him to leave.

He moved quietly so that she was unaware he advanced until she felt his hands on her shoulders. A shudder ran through her, but she seemed strangely powerless to move. It was as though she had expected it, almost as though she had willed him to touch her.

She closed her eyes and rested back against him, felt his fingers move until they circled her throat. But unlike the time he had nearly strangled her they were gentle now, fingertips soothing.

Quick desire flared in her and she knew that in a few moments he would slide down her dress and explore her body too. She also knew that she would be incapable of stopping him. No Imperius would be necessary, she was within his thrall.

A sudden sound made Astoria open her eyes. The door to Bella's room stood wide; the child was looked at them, petrified with fear, her face chalk-white, limbs trembling.

"Oh, my God!" gasped Astoria, but before she could reach her the child had slid to the floor in a dead faint.