Читать книгу The Baby Claim - Catherine George - Страница 7

WHEN she was certain the balcony was empty Joscelyn Hunter hid behind one of its pillars and let her smiling mask slip. For what seemed like hours she’d laughed and chatted and circulated like the perfect guest. But enough was enough. It had been a test to come to the party alone tonight. But Anna was her oldest friend. Missing her engagement celebrations had never been an option.

The breeze was cool, and Joss shivered as it found her bare arms. Soon she could make some excuse and go—where? Home to the empty flat? She stared malevolently at the view, lost in angry reverie, until at last a slight cough alerted her to unwanted company. Joss turned with bad grace, to see a tall man with a glass in either hand.

‘I watched you steal away.’ The stranger held out one of the glasses. ‘Something told me you might be glad of this.’

Because there was no way she could snap at one of Anna’s guests and tell him to get lost, Joss muttered perfunctory thanks and accepted the drink.

‘Would you rather I left you to your solitude?’ said the man, after a long silence.

Joss looked up into his face. A long way up, which was a novelty. ‘You’ve as much right to look at Hyde Park as me,’ she said, shrugging.

‘I’ll take that as a no.’ He touched his glass to hers. ‘What shall we drink to?’

‘The happy pair?’

He echoed her toast, but barely tasted his wine.

‘You don’t care for champagne?’ she asked politely.

‘No. Do you?’

She shook her head. ‘Secretly I detest the stuff.’

‘Your secret’s safe with me,’ he assured her.

Joss relaxed against the pillar, surprised to find she rather welcomed the man’s company after all. It was certainly preferable to her own. ‘Are you one of Hugh’s friends?’

‘No.’ He shrugged rangy shoulders. ‘I’m a friend of a friend. Who dragged me along.’

She looked him up and down, amused. ‘You’re a bit on the large side to be dragged anywhere. Why were you unwilling?’

‘I’m no party animal. But the friend disapproves of my social life. Or lack of it.’ He leaned comfortably on the other side of the pillar. ‘All work and no play is bad for me, he tells me. With monotonous frequency. So once in a while I give in and let him have his way. Don’t drink that if you’d rather not,’ he added.

‘I’ve been on mineral water so far. Maybe a dose of champagne will improve my mood.’ She drank the wine down like medicine.

Her companion nodded slowly. ‘I see.’

She tilted her head to look at him. ‘You see what, exactly?’

‘I’ve been watching you for some time. Noting your body language.’

She stared up at him in mock alarm. ‘What did it say?’

‘That something’s not right with your world.’

‘So you came charging to my aid with medicinal champagne.’ She shook her head in pretend admiration. ‘Do you often play Good Samaritan?’

‘No. Never.’

‘Then why now?’

He leaned closer. ‘Various reasons. But mainly because I’m—curious.’

‘About what, in particular?’

‘The mood behind the smiles.’

‘I’d hoped I was concealing that,’ Joss said gruffly, and turned away to stare across the park.

‘No one else noticed,’ he assured her.

‘I hope you’re right. The last thing Anna needs is a spectre at the feast.’

‘Anna’s a friend of yours?’

‘Oldest and closest. But too euphoric tonight to notice anything amiss.’

Her large companion moved until his dark sleeve brushed her arm, and to her astonishment Joss felt a flicker of reaction, as though he’d actually touched her.

‘Do you live with Anna?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t,’ she said flatly, and shivered.

‘You’re cold,’ he said quickly. ‘Perhaps you should go in.’

‘Not yet. But you go, if you want.’

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Not if you’d prefer to stay,’ she said indifferently, but hoped he would. In the dim light all she could make out was the man’s impressive height, topped by a strong-featured face under thick dark hair. But what she could see she liked very much.

‘Take this.’ He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it round her shoulders, enveloping her in a warm aura of healthy male spiked with spice and citrus. ‘Otherwise you might get pneumonia in that dress,’ he said, his voice a tone deeper.

Joss gave a laugh rendered slightly breathless by the intimacy of the gesture. ‘You don’t approve of my dress?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘If you were mine I wouldn’t let you out in it.’

Joss gave him a sub-zero stare. ‘Really!’

‘I’m not famous for tact,’ he said, lips twitching. ‘You asked a question and I answered it.’

‘True,’ she acknowledged, and thawed a little. ‘The dress was very expensive, in honour of the occasion. I like it.’

‘So do I!’

The dress was an ankle-length tube of black crêpe de Chine, edged with lace at the hem and across the breasts, held up by fragile straps and side-slit to the knee. Joss looked down at herself, then shot an amused look at her companion. ‘But you don’t approve?’

‘No.’

‘And I was so sure I looked good in it,’ she said with mock regret.

‘Every man present thinks you look sensational,’ he assured her.

‘Except you.’

‘Especially me. But it’s a very ambiguous dress.’

Joss found she was enjoying herself. ‘A strange word to describe a frock.’

His deep-throated chuckle vibrated right through the fine bespoke suiting, sending a trickle of reaction down her bare spine.

‘It may be a party dress to you,’ he went on, ‘but to me it smacks of the bedroom.’

Her chin lifted. ‘I assure you it’s not a nightgown. I don’t sleep in this kind of thing.’

‘Which makes me even more curious about what you do—or don’t—sleep in,’ he said softly, sending a second trickle down her spine to join the first.

‘We shouldn’t be having this conversation,’ she said brusquely.

‘Why?’

‘We’ve never met before.’

‘Then let’s introduce ourselves.’ He took her hand in a hard, warm clasp. ‘Tell me your name.’

Joss stared down at their hands, amazed to find herself flustered by his touch. ‘Let’s not get into names,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I don’t want to be me tonight. Just call me—Eve.’

‘Then I’ll be Adam.’ He shook her hand formally. ‘The party’s almost over. Take pity on a lonely stranger, Miss Eve, and have supper with me.’

Joss gave him a very straight look. ‘I thought you came with a friend.’

‘I did. He won’t mind.’ He bent his head to look in her eyes. ‘What was your original plan for the evening?’

Joss turned back to the view. ‘Originally I did have a date for tonight,’ she admitted shortly. ‘But it fell through. Which accounts for the lack of party spirit. Consequently—Adam—I don’t much fancy bright lights and a restaurant.’

‘Then I’ll get a meal sent up to my room here,’ he said promptly, and grinned at the incensed look she shot at him. ‘All I offer—and expect—is dinner, Eve.’

‘If I say yes to a meal in your room,’ she said bluntly, ‘you might expect a lot more than that.’

‘I was watching you long before you vanished out here,’ he reminded her. ‘I know you’re not the archetypal party girl out for a good time.’

‘Do you?’ Joss detached her hand and gave him his jacket. ‘But you have the advantage, Adam. If you watched me earlier you obviously know what I look like. I haven’t even seen your face properly yet.’

He shrugged into his jacket, then moved to the centre of the balcony. From the room inside a shaft of light fell on a strong face with an aquiline nose and a wide, firmly clenched mouth. His cheekbones were high, the eyes slanted, one heavy dark eyebrow raised towards his thick, springing hair as he bore her scrutiny.

‘Well?’ he said dryly. ‘Will I pass?’

With flying colours, she decided. ‘All right—Adam. I’d like to have supper with you,’ she said quickly, before she could change her mind. ‘But not in your room.’

He smiled wryly. ‘Then tell me which restaurant you prefer and I’ll arrange it.’

Just like that. Joss eyed him curiously, in no doubt that if this man asked for a table no restaurant, however sought after, would refuse him. She thought it over for a moment, then gave him a straight look. ‘As you’ve gathered, I’m not in party mood. But we could have supper at my place—if you like.’

His lips twitched. ‘Can you cook?’

‘I offered supper, not haute cuisine,’ she retorted.

He laughed, then moved into her shadowy corner to take her hand. ‘I’m delighted to accept your invitation, Miss Eve.’

The charge of electricity from his touch hinted at danger she chose to ignore in her present reckless mood. ‘Let’s go, then,’ Joss said briskly. ‘But not together. You first.’

He nodded. ‘Allow a discreet interval for me to thank your friends. I’ll have the car waiting at the main entrance in twenty minutes.’

When she was alone Joss leaned on the balcony for a while, almost convinced she’d imagined the encounter. But a furtive peep through the curtains showed her new acquaintance dominating the group clustered round Anna and Hugh. Very nice indeed, thought Joss, reassured, and much too tall to be a figment of anyone’s imagination. She waited until he’d gone, then emerged from her hiding place and joined Anna and Hugh.

‘We were about to send a search party for you, Joss,’ said Anna indignantly. ‘Where on earth have you been?’

‘Communing with nature on a discreet balcony,’ said Joss demurely.

‘Alone?’ asked Hugh, grinning.

‘Of course not.’ She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Anyway, must dash—supper for two awaits. Thanks for a lovely party. See you soon.’ Joss hugged Anna, kissed Hugh’s cheek, then did the rounds, saying her goodbyes, made a detour to tidy herself up in a cloakroom, and at last took the lift down to the foyer, where a man in hotel livery ushered her outside to a waiting car.

‘You’re late,’ growled an impatient voice as she slid into the passenger seat.

‘Sorry. Couldn’t get away.’ Joss gave him her address with sudden reluctance, hoping this wasn’t a colossal mistake.

‘I’d begun to think you’d changed your mind,’ said Adam as he drove away.

He was very nearly right. ‘If so I would have sent a message,’ she said crisply.

‘Ah. A woman of principle!’

‘I try to be.’ Joss turned a long look on the forceful profile, and saw the wide mouth twist a little.

‘I hear you, Eve, loud and clear.’

‘Good. What happened to the friend, by the way?’

‘When told I was dining with a ravishing lady he sent me on my way with his blessing.’

Joss laughed. ‘You’re obviously very old friends.’

‘We’ve known each other all our lives.’

‘Like Anna and me.’ She sighed. ‘I just hope Hugh makes her happy.’

‘Is there any reason why he shouldn’t?’

‘None that I know of. I like him very much.’

‘Then it’s marriage itself you distrust?’

‘Not exactly. But Anna is so certain they’ll live happily ever after. And all too often people don’t.’

‘Leave your friend to her quite obviously besotted fiancé and concentrate on yourself, Eve.’

‘Thanks for the advice,’ she said tartly, and made polite small talk until they arrived at a modern apartment building sitting in surprising harmony with its Victorian Notting Hill neighbours.

Adam parked the car, then followed Joss into one of the lifts in the rather stark, functional foyer.

‘I live on the sixth floor,’ she said, feeling a definite qualm as the door closed to pen her in the small space with her large escort.

Adam frowned down at her. ‘You’re not comfortable with this, are you?’

‘Not entirely,’ she admitted.

He shrugged. ‘In which case I’ll just see you safely to your door and fade into the night.’

Joss felt sudden remorse. ‘Certainly not,’ she said firmly. ‘I invited you to supper so I’ll provide it.’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘Would you really have left me at my door?’

‘If you’d wanted that, yes. But with great reluctance.’ He pressed her hand in reassurance. ‘I keep my word, Eve.’

‘If I didn’t believe that I wouldn’t have invited you here,’ she assured him.

Inside the flat, Joss led her visitor past her closed bedroom door and switched on lights as she took him along a narrow hall into a sitting room with tall windows looking out over communal gardens. The room was large, with free-standing shelves crammed with books, and a pair of brass lamps perched precariously on the top shelf. Otherwise there was only a small sofa and a large floor cushion.

‘Please sit down,’ said Joss. Half empty or not, the room looked a lot smaller than usual with her visitor standing like a lighthouse in the middle of it. ‘Supper’s no problem because I did some shopping today. But I wasn’t expecting company so all I can offer you in the way of a drink is red wine—or possibly some whisky.’

‘Wine sounds good.’ Adam let himself down on the sofa, and stretched out his endless legs. ‘If it’s red it should breathe, so I’ll wait until the meal. Can I help?’

Joss shook her head, chuckling. ‘No room for giants in my kitchen. I’ll open the wine first, then throw a meal together. Shan’t be long.’

As she worked swiftly Joss decided she liked the look of her unexpected guest very much. Not handsome, exactly, but the navy blue eyes, dark hair and chiselled features appealed to her strongly. So did the air of confidence he wore as casually as his Savile Row suit. She tossed a green salad with oil and vinegar, carved a cold roast chicken, sliced and buttered an entire small loaf, and put a hunk of cheese on a plate. She shared the chicken salad between two dinner plates on a forty-sixty basis, put them on a tray with silver, napkins and glasses, added the bread, cheese and wine, and a bowl of fruit, then went back to the sitting room and put the tray on the floor.

Her guest swung round from his absorption in her bookshelves to smile at her. ‘A wide range of literature,’ he commented.

‘My main extravagance. Do sit down again.’ She smiled in apology as she poured the wine. ‘I’m afraid it’s a picnic. You may live to regret not having your hotel dinner.’

‘I doubt it.’ Adam received his plate with approval. ‘What could possibly be better than this?’ He looked up, the indigo eyes holding hers. ‘Thank you, Eve.’

‘My pleasure,’ she said lightly, then curled up on the floor cushion to eat her own meal, realising this was the truth. After resigning herself to a solitary evening, probably not even bothering to eat at all, the present circumstances were a vast improvement.

‘For me,’ said Adam, raising his glass to her in toast, ‘it’s a pleasure—and a privilege—I never anticipated when I first set eyes on you tonight.’

‘When was that?’

‘The moment I arrived. You stood out from the crowd.’

‘Because I’m tall,’ said Joss, resigned. ‘But how on earth did I come to miss someone of your dimensions?’

‘We were late. And it was the hair I noticed, not your height. You had your back to me, but you were facing a mirror. I could see that narrow face of yours framed in it, and wondered why the eyes were at such odds with the smiling mouth. The contradiction intrigued me.’

‘I’m glad I didn’t know,’ said Joss with feeling. ‘Rather like being caught on Candid Camera. I hope I was behaving myself?’

‘Of course you were. The perfect guest.’ Adam helped himself to more bread. ‘But I could tell you weren’t in party mood. I was surprised—and impressed—that you stuck it out so long.’

‘So you saw me disappear,’ said Joss thoughtfully.

He nodded. ‘At which point inspiration struck. At worst, I reasoned, you would send me packing.’

‘And at best?’

‘The privilege of talking to you.’ He gave her a direct look. ‘My imagination never got as far as this.’

‘Chicken salad and questionable claret?’ she said flippantly.

‘Exactly. Now, tell me why you asked me back here tonight.’

Joss shot him a warning look. ‘Certainly not to share my bed.’

‘I thought we’d sorted that out already,’ he said impatiently. ‘Listen to me, Eve. In basic terms, I swear I won’t leap on you the moment we’ve finished supper, or at any other time—is that blunt enough for you?’

Blunt and very reassuring, decided Joss. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

He eyed her searchingly. ‘You’ve obviously had bad experiences in the past in this kind of situation?’

She shook her head. ‘I never invite men here for supper.’ Which was true enough.

He frowned. ‘Never?’

‘Never.’

‘Then why me?’

‘Because you were in the right place at the right time,’ she said candidly. ‘I was in need of company tonight, and you offered yours.’

Adam leaned forward, one of the heavy brows raised. ‘You mean I happened to be nearest, that any man would have done?’

‘Certainly not,’ she snapped, and jumped up. ‘You were kind. I liked that. But, best of all, you’re very tall.’

He looked amused. ‘Is height a vital requirement?’

‘No. But for me it’s a definite plan. I’m five feet ten, with a passion for high heels.’

Adam laughed as he refilled their glasses, and took very little persuading to finish off the bread and cheese. She offered him the fruit bowl. ‘Have one of these to go with it.’

His lips twitched as he took a shiny red apple. ‘Very appropriate, Eve. Will my life change for ever after one taste?’

‘Try it and see.’ Joss smiled and sank down to her cushion again as his strong white teeth crunched into the apple. ‘Sorry there wasn’t any pudding.’

‘This is all a man could ask for. Company included,’ he added. ‘Do you feel better now?’

‘Yes. I haven’t been eating well lately.’

‘I didn’t mean the food.’

‘I know. And since you ask, yes, I do feel better.’

‘Good.’ Adam finished everything on his plate and put it on the tray. ‘Shall I take this out to your kitchen for you?’

She shook her head. ‘Leave it. I’ll see to it later.’

‘Much later.’ He looked at her steadily. ‘I’ve no intention of leaving yet.’

Joss was glad of it. The last thing she wanted right now was solitude.

‘I’ve respected the veto on names,’ he went on, ‘but is it against the rules to ask what you do with your life?’

Joss decided against telling him she was a journalist. That might give too much away. For tonight she would just be romantic, mysterious Eve. ‘I’m—in publishing.’

‘Fiction?’

‘No. Fact.’ Joss settled herself more comfortably. ‘How about you?’

‘Construction.’

Joss was struck by a mental picture of suntanned muscles and heavy loads of bricks. ‘It obviously pays,’ she commented, eyeing his clothes.

‘If you mean the suit,’ he said, straight-faced. ‘It’s the one I keep for parties and funerals. My Sunday best.’

‘Is it really?’

‘Absolutely.’ His eyes roved over her tawny blonde bob, the wide-spaced eyes, the faint suggestion of tilt to the nose. His gaze lingered for a moment on the full curves of her mouth, then continued down until it reached her black silk pumps. ‘I don’t think you bought any of that in a chainstore, either.’

‘True. I felt Anna’s engagement party deserved something special.’ Her eyes clouded. ‘And when I bought it I was in belligerent mood.’

‘Is this something to do with the dinner date that fell through?’

Joss smiled bleakly. ‘In a way.’

‘But there’s a lot more.’

‘Oh, yes.’ Her eyes glittered angrily. ‘A whole lot more.’

‘Would it help to tell me about it?’

Joss frowned, taken aback.

‘It’s easier to confide in strangers,’ he pointed out.

‘I see. I confide my pathetic little story, you offer me a shoulder to cry on, then off you go into the night and we never meet again?’ She smiled. ‘I think I saw the movie.’

‘I’d prefer to alter the script a little,’ he said, chuckling. ‘But whatever you tell me will be in strictest confidence.’

‘Like confessing to a priest?’

Adam shook his head. ‘Wrong casting.’

She nodded, looking at him objectively. ‘You’re right. You don’t suit the role.’

‘But I’m a superb listener,’ he assured her.

‘And you’re curious?’

‘Interested, certainly.’

Joss gazed at him for a moment, weakening by the second in her need to talk to someone. Anna would have been her normal choice, but that, like staying away from the engagement party, had been out of the question. At least until Anna’s celebrations were over and the new, yawning gap in Joscelyn Hunter’s life could no longer be hidden.

‘Are you sure about this?’ she asked.

Adam nodded decisively. ‘I want to know what was behind the Oscar-winning performance tonight.’

Joss gave him a wry little smile and took the plunge. ‘I used to share this flat with my fiancé. A few weeks ago he walked out on me.’