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anything you need you have only to ask.’
    Debra clamped her lips. Liz danced on ahead, following the housekeeper along several corridors, clearly overjoyed at the thought of living in such a beautiful house.
    Begrudgingly Debra followed. They were shown to neighbouring rooms, each with a single bed covered in oyster-coloured satin, cool white walls and elaborately carved Chinese furniture.
    ‘There’s a shower room leading off,’ the housekeeper informed them. Her English was a vast improvement on that of Mr Fu and unbidden came the thought that here was someone who could do the job she, Debra, was supposed to be doing.
    But at least he had been truthful. He had admitted that the job of troubleshooter had been conjured up for her alone. She wondered why, why he had not been satisfied with her original application as a designer of his accessory range.
    It did not make sense, but she knew there was no point in worrying about it—especially since it had meant her travelling out here. She loved the excitement, meeting new people, the fresh challenges. It was only Vane Oliver who caused her any unease.
    The housekeeper continued, ‘If you prefer a bath there is a bathroom along the corridor. Would you like something to eat before you sleep?’
    Both Liz and Debra shook their heads. ‘This is heavenly,’ said Liz, stretching her arms gracefully above her head, unconsciously provocative.
    Vane chose that moment to walk in with their cases, glanced across at Liz, eyes narrowed, then in a deliberately cheerful voice. ‘Here you are, girls. Sleep as long as you like.’
    He did not look in the least tired himself, which was annoying to say the least. Debra felt ready to drop and Liz had already sunk down on to her bed.
    Both he and the housekeeper left and after ensuring Liz was all right Debra went into her own room. She took a quick shower and slid between the silken sheets, and in less than two minutes she was asleep.
    To her amazement it was morning when she next woke. She felt better, completely refreshed—and ravenous. Popping her head round Liz’s door, she observed that the younger girl still slept. She smiled fondly. It would do her good.
    She washed and dressed in a short-sleeved cotton dress of lemon yellow which accentuated her dark hair and complexion.
    From her window she could see down the slopes of the Peak, towering blocks that looked as though they had sprung up overnight, the intense blue of the China Sea.
    Hong Kong had changed, she had realised that yesterday. There were parts she did not recognise, where old buildings had made way for new. It still teemed with life, however, was vitally alive, overcrowded, happy, feverish. Debra loved it.
    More happy than she had felt before going to bed, she made her way along the corridors until she found the breakfast room.
    Vane Oliver sat at the table, an open newspaper before him and the remains of his meal to one side. He was freshly shaven and wore a white silk shirt open at the neck, revealing the brown column of his throat.
    He smiled warmly. ‘You look better. How about Liz, or is she still sleeping?’
    Debra nodded. ‘I thought I'd leave her.’
    He poured her coffee from an elegant silver pot, his smouldering eyes watching her closely. It felt far too intimate, she decided, sitting with her employer like this. It was not at all what she had expected, but it was quite clear from his attitude that he was quite happy with the situation.
    ‘One free day before you begin your job,’ he said. ‘What would you like to do? Renew acquaintance with Hong Kong? I can drive you and Liz around the island, if that’s what you’d like. Or you can spend a lazy day here in the grounds. It’s very pleasant.’
    She took a long sip of her coffee before answering. ‘I think I’d like to go and look for somewhere else to live,’ she said firmly. ‘Liz and I can’t put on you for too long.’
    His eyes hardened fractionally. ‘That’s nonsense. You’re both