come by. If its driver was female Mallon hoped she would stop and give her alift.More of her shock receded and, feeling cold, wet, and decidedly miserable,Mallon half wished she had accepted a lift with the grey-eyed stranger.A moment later and she was scoffing at any such nonsense. She'd had it withmen; lechers, the lot of them! She had known some prime examples in her ex-stepfather, her ex-stepbrother, her ex-boyfriend, without the most recentexample of that ilk, her ex-employer.The rain pelted down, and, since she couldn't possibly become any moresodden, Mallon stopped walking and tried to assess her situation. Shesupposed she must have put a distance of about a mile or so between her andAlmora Lodge. She had sprinted out of there dressed just as she was, in acotton dress-too het up then to consider that this was probably the wettestsummer on record-and without a thought in her head about nipping upstairs tocollect her handbag. Her only thought then had been to put some space between her and the drunken Roland-call me Roly-Phillips.Mallon resumed walking, her pace more of a dejected amble now as sheaccepted that, new to the area, she had no idea where she was going. Her onlyhope was that someone, foolhardy enough to motor out in such foul weather,would stop and offer her a lift.Surely no one with so much as a single spark of decency would leave a dogout in such conditions, much less drive on by without offering her a lift?Perhaps that was why the grey-eyed man had stopped? He hadn't sounded toothrilled at the notion of inviting her drenched person to mess up his leather upholstery. If, that was, his sharp-sounding `Get in!' had been what you couldcall an invitation.Well, he knew what he could… Her thoughts broke off as her ears picked upthe purring sound of a car engine. She halted-the rain had slackened off alittle-and she turned and watched as the car came into view.She eyed the vehicle warily as it drew level, and then stopped. The windowslid down-and at the same time the heavens opened again. Solemn, deeply blue eyes stared into cool grey eyes. He must have driven in a circle, sherealised.The man did not smile, nor did he invite her into his car, exactly. What he didsay, was, `Had enough?"Mallon supposed that, with her blonde hair plastered darkly to her head, her dress clinging past saturation to her body and legs, she must look notdissimilar to the proverbial drowned rat.