First of all,

My deepest condolences for losing SHINee's Kim Jonghyun, 

My pray for him and everyone that loves him.

 

And I'm so sorry for late

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Uncle Jongsuk doing here?' Sohee asked over breakfast the following morning.

'That's what we'd all like to know,' Carrie muttered as she filled the toast rack.

'I'm sorry,' Changmin said, not for the first time. 'I didn't know what to do. He just— walked in, you see.'

'He'd have walked out again if I'd been here,' Carrie said grimly. 'And what Mr Yunho will say, I've no idea.'

'Doesn't Daddy like Uncle Jongsuk?' Sohee was round- eyed. 'Mummy likes him. He came to see us in London.'

Changmin pretended not to see the speaking glance Carrie was directing at her.

'Uncle Sohee's just passing through,' she said briskly. 'And I think it might be better to let him do just that, and not bother Daddy about him. Especially if they don't get on very well.'

Sohee considered that, her head on one side. Then she asked, 'Why did you sleep with me last night, Changmin?'

'It's a very big bed. I was afraid you might get lost.' Changmin smiled at her. 'Did you mind?'

'No, it was like having a sister.' Sohee sighed as she spread honey messily on her toast. 'I've always wanted a sister.'

'Two like you in the house? More than flesh and blood could stand,' Carrie said gruffly, and Sohee, not fooled in the least, gave her a serene smile.

Perhaps the prospect of siblings would help reconcile Sohee to her father's marriage to Hazel Sinclair, Changmin told herself as she collected the little girl's things ready for school. That was if Hazel wanted children. She certainly had no interest in Sohee. Quite the contrary, in fact. But maybe she'd be different with her own.

As she came down to the hall Jongsuk came out of the drawing room, and stood smiling up at her.

'So there you are.'

'Top marks for observation,' Changmin said shortly, trying to edge round him, but he was deliberately blocking her path to the door.

'Taking Sohee to school? I'll come with you.'

'There's no need for that.'

'Probably not, but I'm coming anyway. I'd like to spend part of the day with someone who's pleased to see me,' he added with something of an edge.

'Under the circumstances, you can hardly expect the red carpet.' Changmin contributed some edge of her own.

As she unlocked the car, Sohee came racing out.

'Uncle Jongsuk, are we going out for a treat?'

'Nothing I'd like more, angel.' He lifted her and swung her round. 'But Nanny says you have to go to school.'
 'Oh.' Sohee directed a pleading look at Changmin. 'Do I have to?'

'Absolutely.' Changmin found herself stiffening with distaste at the sight of Sohee in Jongsuk's arms. She met his eyes over the child's head, and realised he knew exactly how she felt and relished it.

'Tell you what, sweetpea, why don't I take you to school this morning in my car?' 'No,' Changmin said swiftly, and forcefully.

'Lighten up, Feeb.' He was laughing at her openly now. 'Don't be a spoilsport all your life.' Still carrying Sohee, he strode towards the raffish sports car parked on the driver.

'Sorry it's only a two seater,' he called back over his shoulder. 'See you later.'

'It's not your fault.' Carrie poured Changmin a consolatory cup of coffee. 'He was always the same—selfish, headstrong, and hell-bent on getting his own way. He'll seem glamorous to the child at first, but the novelty will soon wear off for him, mark my words.'

'I should have stopped him somehow,' Changmin said wretchedly. 'I don't want him playing games with her emotions.' She saw Carrie's surprised look, and added defensively, 'I don't think he's a suitable companion for a child.'

Carrie patted her hand. 'Try not to worry,' she advised. 'He'll be off before you know it, and we can have some peace again.'

As soon as Carrie had gone upstairs to change the towels, Changmin rang Westcombe Park School. To her surprise and relief, she learned that Sohee had been deposited at the school and was now in her classroom, instead of heaven knew where on some jaunt.

And Jongsuk himself returned some ten minutes later.

'Coffee,' he remarked. 'How civilised. I notice Yun's dragon didn't offer me any breakfast this morning.'

'Just what the hell are you playing at?' Changmin blazed at him. 'Soher is in my care, and you had no right to go against me like that.'

'Afraid I'd kidnapped her?' He gave her a malicious grin. 'No chance. She's a charmer, of course, like any daughter of Ara's would be, but a little of any child's company goes a long way with me.'

'I'd like you to leave her alone.'

'No sooner said than done.' He poured himself some coffee and came to sit opposite her. 'I shall be moving on presently.'

'Moving on?' Changmin repeated in bewilderment.

'You sound disappointed, honey pie. But in spite of the flawless hospitality I have to tear myself away.'

She eyed him warily. 'That isn't the impression you gave last night.'

'Well,' Jongsuk said lightly, 'perhaps I've had time to think since then. Time to realise that my presence here really wouldn't be welcomed by my dear stepbrother. You see, I have some tact.'

'Why did you come here in the first place?'

He waved an airy hand. 'Family business, darling. But it can wait.' He drank some coffee. 'It's been fascinating to meet you again, in spite of this distressing waspish- ness you've developed. And do remember that my visit is our little secret.'
 'What about Sohee and Carrie?' she countered. 'Are they supposed to keep quiet about it too?'

'Oh, Sohee's no problem. We have an agreement, she and I. And Carrie's always hated me. She can be easily persuaded to forget I was ever here.'

'It's all perfectly simple, really,' Changmin said with heavy irony.

'So let's keep it that way.' He finished his coffee and pushed his chair back. He smiled at her, his eyes on her s. 'Goodbye, honey pie. Enjoy your nights in Yun's bed. Something tells me there won't be many of them.'

Changmin was still sitting, staring into space, when Carrie returned ten minutes later.

'I thought I heard a car. Has he gone?'

'Yes,'Changmin agreed frowningly. 'He has.'

'So that's all right, then,' Carrie said comfortably.

Is it? thought Changmin, troubled. I wish I could be so sure.

She tried to put Jongsuk's mysterious appearance, and equally enigmatic departure, out of her mind for the trip to Midburton.

The craft shop was at the end of a small precinct, which it shared with a perfumery, a silversmith and a boutique selling hand-painted silk scarves.

The dolls' house was even better than Changmin had hoped, spacious and solidly built in a traditional design, with gables and mullioned windows. The whole of the front was on hinges, and the main door and windows all opened.

'It's beautiful,' she told the woman who ran the shop. 'I'd love it myself.'

The other woman laughed. 'I'm glad it's going to a good home. We were all so glad when Mr Jung came back to Midburton.' She lowered her voice. 'Such a shame about his marriage breaking up. She used to buy her scent in the shop next door, and she was the most lovely thing I ever saw. So charming and natural. Such a giving person.'

'So I gather,' Changmin agreed without expression. 'May I look at the furniture now?'

'It's all hand-made.' The woman passed her a card. 'This is the name of the craftsman if you want to place any special orders. Some people like those big four- poster beds, but we don't keep them in stock.'

'I don't think so.' Changmin forced a smile. She lingered over her selection, concentrating on basics because Sohee would obviously want to choose some things for herself at a later stage.

'If you want to leave the house and furniture until Christmas Eve that will be fine,' the woman offered as she totted up the bill. 'It's often a problem to hide something as big as this.'

'Thanks,' Changmin accepted gratefully. 'But I'll take some of these little jointed dolls with me now.'

'This is one very lucky little girl.' The woman was wreathed in smiles as she showed Changmin to the door.

Not in every way, Changmin thought wryly.

While she was in Midburton, she decided, she might as well do the rest of her shopping. It was an odd sensation actually having money in her pocket, for once, instead of having to count every penny.
 The scent shop had special Christmas baskets crammed with bath foam, body lotions and other toiletries in exquisite old-fashioned fragrances like rose, lily and honeysuckle, and Changmin chose one for Carrie.

For Kyuhyun there was an array of the newest colours in nail enamels, prettily packaged. In an art shop she found an enormous paintbox for Sohee, with sensible sized brushes,

and a thick pad of paper where she could create her masterpieces.

After all, she couldn't play with the dolls' house all day and every day during the long winter. She'd need some alternative form of interest.

But I won't be there to see it, Changmin thought with a pang. I won't be there to supervise and praise her.

Only a short while before she'd been planning a new career—sorting out her life, her future.

Now, she knew, with pain, that everything she really wanted—all her happiness and true fulfilment—was in the house at Fitton Magna.

And she had to leave it behind.

She gave herself a mental shake, pushing her wretchedness to the back of her mind. It was still going to be Christmas very soon, and she had Dominic's present to buy. Even that presented a major problem. Any form of clothing, or even male toiletries, seemed too intimate somehow, unless she stuck to something safe but dull like socks and handkerchiefs, and they didn't appeal at all.

She wandered from shop to shop, examining and discarding-, getting more and more low-spirited, until she came across a small, independent bookseller. On display in the window was a handsomely presented reprint of a pre-war local history book, wonderfully illustrated, with a big section on Fitton Magna and its environs.

Not too personal, but clearly specially chosen, Changmin decided jubilantly, discovering that it was a limited edition produced by a local printer.

And even when she was long gone the book would remain at the house, a tangible reminder that she had lived there. A remembrance of her, she thought wistfully.

The shop had some unusual wrapping paper and tags too, so, in spite of her emotional turmoil, Changmin could feel well-satisfied with her efforts as she drove home.

She couldn't wait for Yunho to phone that night, and hovered expectantly for Sohee to finish her conversation so that she could tell him, 'Mission accomplished'. But Sohee came running back to inform her that Yunho had rung off without asking to speak to her.

'Oh,' Changmin said blankly, feeling totally and absurdly put down.

'I think he was in a hurry. But he says he's coming back tomorrow night,' Sohee added with delight, and Changmin supposed she would have to make do with that.

The next twenty-four hours passed tranquilly enough, apart from Sohee's unwillingness to go to school.

'It's boring,' she said rebelliously. 'All they do is practise the play, and I have to just sit there. And Judith, who got the part of the Mary, is awful,' she added broodingly.

Although sympathetic, Changmin had to hide a smile. 'Why don't you write a nativity play of your own?' she suggested. 'Then we can all act it here.'
Sohee's face lit up. 'With me as the Mary?'

'We wouldn't have anyone else,' Changmin assured her.

'Daddy could be Joseph,' said the embryo playwright, 'and Carrie can be the innkeeper, and you can be all the shepherds.'

'Sounds good to me,' Changmin agreed. 'But what do we do for the Wise Men?' 'We'll have to wait and see if Uncle Jongsuk comes back,' said Sohee. God forbid, Changmin thought devoutly.

Jongsuk's unexpected intrusion into their lives lurked uneasily in the back of her mind, like an unanswered question. Or an unexploded bomb.

My first love, she thought with self-disgust. Only it was never love—merely infatuation. And how could I have been so blind—so self-delusional?

But she knew the answer to that. She hadn't known what love really was.

Not until now, she thought. Not until now.

It was late in the evening when Yunho finally returned. Sohee, furious at not being allowed to stay up for him, had sulked her way to bed. And Carrie had turned down the oven for the rich beef casserole she'd prepared to the gentlest simmer, prophesying doom and disaster for it if he didn't come soon.

He looks tired, was Changmin's first thought. And unhappy, too.

Perhaps his rescue plan had failed after all.

She followed him into the study. He paused in the act of unpacking his briefcase and looked at her, one brow lifted interrogatively.

No smile or word of greeting, she registered bleakly. She was wearing the moss-green needlecord shirtwaister that she'd bought during her expedition to Midburton. And suddenly she felt foolish, as if she'd dressed for a celebration only to find it cancelled.

She hurried into speech. 'I thought you'd want to know that I'm collecting Sohee's present on Christmas Eve.' She could hear the nervousness in her own voice. 'I thought, if I brought it in by the kitchen entrance, I could hide it in the utility room. Sohee never goes in there.'

He nodded curtly. 'Is she asleep?'

'No, she won't be. She's been excited all day, waiting for you.' Soften, she thought pleadingly. Smile for me now.

But there was nothing. Yunho seemed to look through her. 'Then I'll go up to her.' Changmin went back to the drawing room. The bag with the little wooden dolls, the scraps of fabric and her sewing kit was safely hidden under one of the sofas. She retrieved it, and went on with the dress she was sewing for the female doll.

Something was clearly wrong, she thought, but what? He'd been so different when they'd spoken on the telephone—so much warmer, so much more human. But perhaps that was the problem. After all, he'd made it clear that there could never be anything between them. Maybe he regretted dropping his guard with her, even for a few moments, and many miles away, and this was his way of telling her.

Her sewing wasn't difficult work, but it was fiddly, requiring the kind of concentration she wasn't capable of just now, and she yelped as she jabbed the needle into her finger instead of the fabric, ruefully away the spot of blood.
 It would be best to abandon it for the evening and listen to the radio in her room, she decided dispiritedly. And she would be out of Yunho's way, as he clearly wished.

It was here that Carrie found her half an hour later.

'He's barely touched his dinner,' she said, pursing her lips. 'Now, he's having coffee in the study, and he wants to talk to you.'

Changmin uncurled herself from the little armchair and stood up.

'Did he say what it was about?' she asked apprehensively.

Carrie shook her head. 'He isn't saying very much at all.' She sighed. 'This is how he was after—' She stopped, as if aware she was straying into indiscretion.

'After his marriage broke up?'Changmin asked, wincing inwardly.

'Well—yes. And I thought he'd put all that behind him. That he was looking forward, not back.'

'That isn't always easy,' Changmin said quietly, and went out of the room.

The study door was shut, so she tapped lightly, and waited.

'Come in.' His tone was short and uncompromising.

He was standing by the fire, looking down into the flames, one foot on the brass fender. He'd changed, she noticed, out of his dark City suit into jeans and a casual sweater.

'You wanted to see me?'

'Yes, there were a couple of things.' He paused. 'Firstly, I've written to Westcombe Park School, informing them that Sohee won't be returning in the New Year.'

'Oh, that's good,' she said with relief. 'I'm sure it's absolutely the right decision.'

'You think so?' The grey eyes were remote. 'I can't say I've been too impressed with my own judgement lately.' There was another, longer pause. 'Look how wrong I've been about you,' he added with cold emphasis.

'I don't understand—' she began, but he interrupted derisively.

'Don't lie to me, Changmin. And, more importantly, don't get my daughter to lie to me. Because that is unforgivable.'

She felt as if he'd struck her in the face. 'I haven't lied,' she said unevenly. 'And I don't believe Sohee would either."'

'Neither did I.' His tone bit. 'That is until earlier this evening, when I asked her if Lee Jongsuk had been in this house and she swore he hadn't. Which, as we all know is not the case. Is it, my innocent-eyed hypocrite?'

Shocked into silence, Changmin could only stare at him.

'I can't dictate to you over your love life,' he went on grimly. 'Although I'd have thought previous experience would have taught you something. But I object to you carrying on your amours under my roof with that piece of scum. I'm sure I don't have to tell you why.' His mouth curled in distaste. 'No doubt you've been in his confidence all along—even six years ago.

'Until your advent, I'd managed to keep him out of my orbit. I genuinely believed that whatever relationship you'd had with him was long over. If I'd thought for one minute it was just on hold...' He drew a long, bitter breath.

'But dragging Sohee into it. Forcing her to cover up for you. Trusting that bastard with
 her. Letting him drive her to school.' His voice thickened. 'My God, Changmin, how could you do that?'

It was one terrible bombshell after another. Changmin was reeling, her mind going crazy, but she had to get control—to defend herself somehow. Deal with the last accusation first, because that was in a minor league compared with everything else.

'You think he waited for my permission?' she demanded hotly. 'You must know him better than that. Sohee wanted to go with him, and he drove off with her before I could stop him. What was I supposed to do— run after the car? As it was, I was just thankful that she got to school safely.'

'Amen to that.'

'As a matter of interest, how did you find out?'

'Unfortunately for you, Hazel was at the school for a governors' meeting, and she saw him drop Sohee off. She could hardly believe her eyes.'

'Or wait to get on the phone, it seems,' Changmin said acidly.

'She's an old friend,' he returned. 'Knowing the situation, she was naturally concerned. She acted with the best of intentions.'

'Of course.' Changmin paused. 'Regarding the "cover- up", I admit that Carrie and I thought it would be better not to mention he'd been here.' She didn't look at him. 'Not to reopen old wounds. But not to lie about it either,' she added fiercely. 'That was never on the agenda. If you'd asked, we'd have told you. We—meant well, too.'

'So why was Sohee so scared to speak?' he asked scornfully. 'Why was she sobbing in my arms just now, saying that she'd had to promise not to tell or her Christmas would be ruined? What kind of pressure is that to put on a child?'

'I never said anything like that. I wouldn't. I couldn't.' Changmin beat a clenched fist into the palm of her other hand. 'And I'm not having an affair with Lee Jongsuk. If you won't take my word for it, ask Tara where I slept that night. And she'll tell you I was with her.'

The grey eyes narrowed. 'Then why did he come here—if not to see you? He knows he's not allowed anywhere near this place.'

'He walked in, claimed to be your stepbrother and made himself at home. Maybe you should have followed up your embargo by having the locks changed.' Changmin paused. 'But he wasn't looking for me,' she added with stark emphasis. 'He was as surprised to see me as I was appalled to see him.'

'Do you think I'm a fool?' Yunho demanded contemptuously. 'Whatever motive could he have had? He was taking a hell of a risk. At our last meeting I swore I'd kill him if I ever saw him again.'

'Another excellent reason for keeping his presence quiet. And I'm the last person you should ask about Jongsuk's motivation.'

He laughed harshly. 'You knew him very well six years ago.'

Changmin shook her head. 'I never knew him at all. Not the real person—if there is one.' She took a deep, steadying breath. 'And while we're on the subject of deception—how long have you known? That it was me, I mean?'

His mouth twisted. 'Ever since the night you barged in, accusing me of being an uncaring father. Oh, there'd been some surface changes, of course. You were wearing
 clothes, and that bloody wig had gone. But you couldn't disguise your eyes.'

He threw his head back. 'That crushed, scared look you gave me as you came downstairs haunted me for a long time. And just for a moment I met it again, head- on, here in this room.'

He shrugged. 'And there was the name, as well. You don't encounter that many Changmins in a lifetime.'

'No,' she said bitterly. 'I don't suppose you do. So, if you knew all along, why didn't you simply kick me into oblivion like last time?'

'Because I was intrigued.' His voice slowed to a drawl. 'From centrefold to uptight child-rights protestor seemed a hell of a transformation. And, as you so patently didn't want to be recognised, I decided to play along.'

She said tonelessly, 'Your family seems to specialise in games of one kind or another.' 'In which you were the first to join, remember?' The grey eyes glittered, stripping off the concealing lines of the moss-green dress. 'Jongsuk told me what an eager volunteer you were. Always happier without your clothes than in them.'

'And you believed him?' She wrapped her arms defensively round her body.

'Backed up by the evidence of my own eyes, yes.' He was smiling now, his mouth curling in sensual reminiscence. 'He'd left me this note "Many happy returns. Your birthday present is unwrapped on your bed". Even then, I didn't realise what he meant, until I opened the door and saw you there.'

He paused. 'And, for the record, don't think I wasn't tempted, darling.' He made the endearment sound like an insult. 'It had been a hell of a few weeks, and it might have been some small recompense to take Jongsuk's woman as mindlessly as he'd taken mine. Although that wasn't the plan, naturally,' he added softly. 'I was supposed to react exactly as I did, and let you leave unscathed. Good old predictable Yunho.'

'Unscathed—is that what you think?' Her voice shook. 'My God, how little you know. I was humiliated—degraded. If you think your failure to attack me was some kind of let-off...'

Yunho laughed, the sound echoing harshly.

'Attack?' he jeered. 'I don't think I'd have been driven to that extreme. You may have chosen to shelter behind this demure facade, but you're fooling no one except yourself. I've held you, remember? And gauged the depths of your response. Or are you going to deny that too?'

She couldn't say anything. She couldn't speak or move. And she should run, because there was real danger here.

'No,' he went on softly. 'The real girl was there on my bed that night—warm, passionate and much more than willing. Would you like me to prove it to you?'

Two strides brought him to her. His arms went round her roughly, pulling her against him in a demand that brooked no denial. His kiss was hard, plundering all the sweetness of without mercy.

She couldn't breathe, or even think with any coherence, but the instinct to escape, before it was too late, was still strong. She tried to push him away, but his chest was like an iron wall against her frantic hands. She could feel the race of his heart under her
 fingers. Sense the aroused, desperate trembling of his flesh. And match it with her own shaken, reluctant excitement.

It was, she realised, indeed too late.

She felt herself sway in his embrace, and his clasp slackened a little—but only so that he could bend her backwards over his arm in a pliant arc, his lips trailing fire down the line of while his hand moulded the softness of her with total and compelling assurance.

He undid the buttons on her dress, pushing the soft fabric off her shoulder, then sliding down her bra strap so that he could release her from the confines of its lacy cup.

Her flesh seemed to swell at his first touch on its ness, her hardening in unresisting pleasure under the play of his skilful fingers.

She heard her own raw gasp of delight as he took the eager, dusky peak into his mouth, it gently, subtly, with his tongue.

Her body was melting, imbued with a strange languor. When Yunho lifted her fully into his arms, she offered no protest, allowing him to carry her to the thick rug in front of the fireplace.

He lay beside her, framing her face with his hands as he kissed her again, gently this time, and very deeply. Then, without haste, he unclasped the belt of her dress and unfastened the remaining buttons. He raised her slightly so that he could free her arms from the sleeves, then unhooked her bra and tossed it aside.

He looked down at her, and she felt herself tremble under the intensity of his gaze. He said quietly, 'I've dreamed of seeing you like this—touching you. You're like some pale, sweet rose made flesh.'

She felt his mouth burn swiftly and softly in the valley between her s, then his hands cupped each delicate mound in turn for the lingering adoration of his lips.

Through half-closed eyes, Changmin saw the flames dance on the hearth behind him, and felt them riot in her blood. She too had dreamed, she thought hazily. Dreams she had never admitted even to herself—until now, when they were all coming true. Yunho her softly and sensually, smoothing his hand from her shoulder down to her thigh, making each inch of silky skin his own. She revelled in every tiny movement, feeling her body bloom under the brush of his fingers.

It was only when she felt the satin glide of his caress parting her thighs that she realised that the remainder of her clothing had been discarded, and she was .

No one had ever touched her so intimately before, and she whimpered softly and greedily, suffused in heated, molten pleasure. She was consumed by a yearning she hardly understood, her body moving in restless, questing delight under the tender expertise of his exploration of her.

Tiny waves of sensation were lapping at her, tingling along her limbs, shivering at her nerve-endings, intensifying under the sweet rhythm of his fingers to such a pitch that her entire being seemed to be focused on this tiny, elusive core of pleasure.

She was so close—dear God, so close.

'Don't stop—please.' She hardly recognised her own sobbing whisper.
 'Never.'

She sensed the core inside her building up to some pinnacle, strained to reach it, and felt her body explode in unimaginable glory.

She came shuddering back to earth, and some measure of control, and found there were tears on her face. Yunho touched them with his lips.

'You're supposed to enjoy it,' he whispered, teasing her, and she smiled at him waveringly, wonderingly, because she had never known such rapture existed.

The sudden shrilling of the telephone was a raucous, jarring intrusion.

'Don't answer it.' Changmin caught at his arm as he started to get to his feet.

'I must, or Carrie will be coming in to find out what's wrong.' He freed himself gently and went over to the desk.

He lifted the receiver and gave the number. Changmin saw his face change as he listened. She felt cold, suddenly, and oddly indecent, as if there were a third person actually in

the room.

As she reached for her dress he said quietly, 'Good evening, Ara. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?'

Changmin halted abruptly, staring at him in shock.

His brows drew together in a faint frown as he listened for what seemed an eternity. 'If that's what you wish,' he said at last, his tone expressionless, 'Sohee will be delighted,

naturally.' Another pause, then, 'Yes, of course. Goodnight.'

He replaced the receiver with great deliberation, then walked across the room and poured himself a drink.

'My former wife,' he said with precision, 'is coming to spend Christmas with us. I'd better break the news to Carrie.'

He looked down  at Changmin, still huddled on the rug, holding her dress against her, and his face was remote— a stranger's.

He said, 'I think, under the circumstances, you'd better get dressed—don't you?'

Then he swallowed his whisky, put down the glass and walked out of the room.

Leaving her there alone. And bereft.