Читать книгу Infamous Bargain - Daphne Clair - Страница 5

BRIAR felt almost dizzy. Anger brought a flush to her cheeks and buzzed in her head. She wanted to hit him, lash out with her hands, wipe the cool, scornful smile from his handsome face.

She clenched her fists at her sides, but her voice, a notch higher than usual, shook. ‘I don’t know how you usually conduct your business, Mr Roth, but I assure you that my father would never expect me to lower myself to that level. I suggest you get your mind out of the gutter! Or better still, crawl back in there where you belong. Excuse me, I need some clean air.’

She turned, making for the door, but was brought up short by a hard hand on her wrist pulling her about to face him.

Tugging at it, she said, eyes blazing, ‘Don’t you touch me!’

‘Hang on there.’ He easily swung her to one side, reaching over to push the door shut.

Alarmed, she tried to kick out at him, but he evaded it and let her go so suddenly that she almost lost her balance.

Now he was standing against the door, leaning on the panels with his hands in his pockets and his burnished-pewter eyes alert and bright.

‘If you don’t get away from that door I’ll scream,’ she threatened.

‘Don’t be silly, I’m not hurting you. Not even touching you, in fact.’

Her head went up, her mouth stubbornly set. ‘I want to leave.’

‘In a minute.’ He was regarding her with speculation. ‘Are you mad because I called your bluff, or because I was wrong in my assumptions?’

Briar’s hand clenched. ‘I’m not going to defend myself to you. You probably wouldn’t believe me, anyway.’

‘Try me,’ he offered.

She debated trying to shove him aside, but although she was no weakling, he had the edge over her in both size and strength. She’d felt the power in his grip as he held her. ‘You were wrong,’ she said, her voice very even although she was sizzling inside. ‘Totally, completely wrong.’

He seemed to be weighing that up, still steadily watching her. ‘Your father didn’t tell you to give me a good time?’

Briar felt her cheeks burn again. ‘He didn’t mean what you think.’

Softly, Kynan asked, ‘Are you sure?’

An insidious doubt crept into her mind. Shaking it off, she said, ‘Of course I’m sure. He wouldn’t...and anyway, I wouldn’t...’

Something like a grin briefly appeared on the chiselled mouth. ‘I’m beginning to believe that you wouldn’t.’ He paused. ‘I apologise.’

An apology was certainly due. ‘Am I supposed to thank you for that?’ she enquired.

The grin widened slightly. ‘Not necessarily.’

‘Good.’ She was still simmering. ‘Might I suggest you refrain from jumping to bizarre conclusions next time someone offers you their normal hospitality?’

‘Oh, come on, Briar.’ He folded his arms and crossed one ankle over the other, looking at her. ‘What was I supposed to think? Your father was throwing you at me at every turn, and you certainly didn’t seem to be objecting. You brought me in here on the flimsiest excuse—’

‘He told me to—’

Kynan nodded. ‘Are you always such a dutiful daughter? You seemed to be quite pleased with the idea.’

‘I’m a good actress.’

He smiled openly at her tart tone. It made him look considerably less formidable. ‘A natural,’ he agreed. ‘So...you don’t really like me at all?’

‘Should I?’

‘Ouch!’ he murmured. ‘What should I do? Go down on my knees?’

She could hardly imagine it. ‘You could start by moving away from the door.’

For a second or two he stayed there, then he unfolded his arms and stood aside, waiting.

Briar took an uncertain step forward, and Kynan leaned over and turned the handle, throwing the door wide.

‘Thank you,’ she said, sweeping past him into the passageway.

He closed the door and came to her side, saying nothing as they returned to the other room.

Some people were leaving, and Kynan took her arm in a light hold, drawing her closer to him to make way for them. Her father and Laura were seeing them out, Xavier casting Briar and Kynan a sharp glance.

‘I should be going, too,’ Kynan murmured. ‘I think I may have outstayed my welcome.’

She gave him a sarcastic look, and he laughed. ‘I’ll go home and find some sackcloth and ashes,’ he promised. ‘Can you bear to say goodnight to me civilly?’

Briar regarded him stony-faced. It seemed to her he was taking the whole thing rather casually. He was doubtless used to charming birds from trees when he took a mind to it, but it would take more than a smile and a careless apology to mollify her. ‘Goodnight,’ she said, and held out her hand.

He looked down at it, smiling faintly, before he took it in his. ‘Goodnight, Briar.’ He turned her hand over, and raised her fingers fleetingly to his lips. She felt the warm brush of his mouth against her skin, and some unidentifiable sensation passed through her body. Then he released her and went to say goodnight to her father and stepmother.

* * *

Next day two huge florist’s bouquets arrived at the house. One was addressed to Laura, with a card thanking her for dinner and an enjoyable evening, signed Kynan Roth. The other was for Briar.

She opened the envelope and read the card. There was nothing on it but his name. She supposed it was a reinforcement of his apology.

‘Aren’t they lovely?’ Laura breathed in the scent of pink roses and carnations as she arranged them in a white porcelain vase. ‘That’s a man with style!’ She looked sidelong at Briar. ‘Did you...get along with him?’

‘Does it matter?’ Briar asked, tucking the card back into its envelope. Her bouquet featured yellow irises and deep creamy roses shading to gold in the centre. She wondered if he’d chosen the flowers himself.

‘Oh, no! Not specially. Your father seemed to think...’ Laura pushed a tall carnation into the vase, and the stem snapped in two. ‘Oh, I’m so clumsy!’

‘You’re not. It was too long,’ Briar pointed out absently. ‘What’s going on, Laura? Has Dad told you?’

‘He doesn’t tell me about his business affairs, you know that. But something has been bothering him.’ Laura twiddled with the broken stem she had pulled from the vase, then dropped it and picked up the piece with the flower on it, regarding the arrangement uncertainly.

‘What did he say?’

‘Nothing much at all,’ Laura said quickly. ‘But I know he’s worried.’

‘Financial problems?’ Kynan Roth had said so, but why should she believe him? Her father had always been successful. Some years ago he had moved from straight accountancy to setting up a financial advice and investment service. He was regarded as a man who knew where the best deals were to be made. Lawyers and accountants often referred to him clients who had some money set aside and were unsure as to where to invest it.

‘I suppose so,’ Laura said. ‘When I asked him what was the matter he said there’s been a downturn in the share-market, but he’s sure things will straighten themselves out.’

‘Is he hoping to attract some investment money from Kynan Roth?’

‘I don’t know. He said more than once that he couldn’t afford to lose Mr Roth, so I was to make sure he enjoyed himself and that there were no slip-ups last night. But knowing how important it was just made me go to pieces.’

‘You did fine.’

‘Do you think so? I must admit that Mr Roth was perfectly nice, although something about the man makes me nervous. It was kind of him to send flowers. Didn’t you like him?’

‘Not specially,’ Briar answered crisply. ‘Did Dad say that he wanted me to...?’

‘What?’ Laura turned enquiring blue eyes on her.

‘Never mind, it wasn’t important.’ Laura was inclined to make a big worry out of quite trivial things. She might have blown up a casual remark out of proportion to its real significance, Briar told herself. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Of course her father hadn’t set her up with Kynan. Not deliberately. He might have had some vague hope that if they took to each other it would make a business arrangement easier to bring about. He certainly hadn’t been asking her to sell herself in return for some of Kynan’s money.

* * *

Over lunch, Xavier asked her, ‘How did you get on with Kynan Roth?’

She looked up from her salad. ‘All right.’ And bluntly she asked, ‘Why?’

‘No particular reason. I thought you might enjoy meeting someone nearer your age...’

‘I meet people my age all the time,’ Briar said. ‘Who exactly is Kynan Roth, anyway?’

‘He’s been overseas for a number of years—he was chief executive of a big Australian steel firm. When his father died last year he came home to take over the family company. Created quite a stir. Bit of a whiz-kid.’

‘Quite a number of whiz-kids lost their shirts in the last crash, didn’t they?’ Briar commented.

‘Yes, indeed. Got caught on the market with their pants down. Young idiots who flew around in their corporate jets taking over companies and throwing champagne parties every time their shares doubled in value.’ Xavier’s lips curled distastefully. ‘Roth’s not that sort. The business has a rock-solid base, manufacturing plants that have been in the family for a long time. He brought new ideas back with him and expanded the original company. Old money and business acumen are a winning combination.’

‘Big money?’

‘Hundreds of millions. Low profile, like his father, but it’s there, all right.’

‘He said you need cash.’

Xavier looked at her sharply. ‘When did he say that?’

‘Last night, when I was showing him the Heaphy. Is that why you asked me to be nice to him?’

A dull flush rose in Xavier’s neck. ‘He’s a useful contact, just like all the others who were here last night.’

‘As a possible source of quick money?’

Laura put down her fork. ‘Do you want some more ham, Briar?’

‘This is business, Briar,’ her father said dismissively. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

Briar’s glance at her stepmother was apologetic, but she turned again to her father. ‘Just how important to you is this man?’

Xavier replied testily, ‘Nothing to worry about. I simply need a bit of short-term finance to cover a temporary cash-flow problem.’

Alarm bells were ringing in Briar’s head. ‘You’re hoping he’ll give you a loan?’

‘A business loan is more complicated than—than mortgaging a house, or buying a car on hire-purchase.’

Laura’s smooth brow creased. ‘You won’t have to mortgage the house, will you?’

‘The house! It wouldn’t begin to cover—’ Xavier scowled. ‘Wherever did you get that idea?’

‘I suppose,’ Briar said, ‘you could sell the Heaphy.’

‘A few thousand dollars!’ Xavier gave a rather harsh laugh. ‘It won’t come to that. I told you, it’s nothing to worry about.’

He bent his attention to the cold mutton on his plate. Briar’s eyes met Laura’s over the table. Laura’s blue gaze was clouded, and the frown had not left her face.

* * *

The phone rang as the two women were stacking the dishwasher after lunch, and Laura went to answer it. Hearing her muted voice in the hall, Briar assumed the call was for her stepmother. But after a minute or two Laura called, ‘Briar—can you come to the phone?’

As Briar took the receiver, Laura whispered, ‘It’s Kynan Roth!’ She retreated back to the kitchen as Briar lifted the receiver to her ear.

‘Thank you for the flowers,’ Briar said formally. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘I’m glad you like them. Have you forgiven me, yet?’

She deliberately let half a second elapse before she said coolly, ‘Of course.’

Faint laughter came down the line. ‘But not entirely? Let me make amends—’

‘I thought that was what the flowers were for.’

‘They haven’t done the trick, have they? I’d like to take you to dinner tonight, if you’re free.’

‘On the theory that an evening in your company will “do the trick”?’ she enquired drily.

‘Nasty, Briar! On the theory that a good dinner in a comfortable restaurant might have a soothing effect. Where would you like to go?’

‘With you? I’m not sure that I want to go anywhere.’

Laura appeared in the kitchen doorway, a plate in her hand, her expression tense. She’d been listening, Briar realised. As her eyes met Briar’s, she gave an apologetic smile and ducked back.

‘But you are free tonight?’ Kynan was asking.

As she debated over whether to admit she was, he said, ‘Have you been to Benedict’s?’

‘Not yet.’ It was a new place that had opened in a blaze of publicity. The owners were said to have lured the best chef in town from his previous position in the kitchen of a top hotel.

‘I’ll book us a table,’ he said. ‘Pick you up at seven, OK?’

She wanted to tell him no, it wasn’t OK at all. But Laura’s disquiet had communicated itself to her. She hesitated and was lost.

‘See you then,’ Kynan said. And she was left holding the phone, with the dialling tone humming in her ear.

* * *

She wore an apricot wild silk jacket over a flowered skirt and soft jade green blouse, and put on the highest heels in her wardrobe, remembering that Kynan Roth was a tall man. She didn’t want him towering over her.

He arrived promptly and she opened the door to him herself. Laura had already served a meal for herself and Xavier, and they were watching a favourite programme in the TV room. ‘Briar’s going out with Kynan Roth,’ Laura had told Xavier brightly.

Watching her father’s face, Briar thought he seemed almost disconcerted. Then he’d said, a shade too loudly, ‘Well, that’s nice, Briar. Must have taken a fancy to you.’

* * *

Kynan ushered her into the passenger seat of a shiny dark blue car. He had manners, if nothing else, she reflected. And quickly amended that—as well as everything else. Money, good looks, power, and the sex appeal that went with them. All the superficial advantages were his.

And superficial they were, she reminded herself as he slid into the driver’s seat, smiling at her before starting the engine. There were more important qualities that she looked for in a man. Compassion, kindness, understanding, the capacity to love, and a sense of humour.

He had that last, but she wasn’t sure if there was any warmth or gentleness behind it. An ability to laugh at others didn’t necessarily go with an equal willingness to laugh at oneself.

She concentrated on the view from the side-window—the big, rambling old houses and professional buildings lining Remuera Road. But as Kynan stopped for a red light she peeped speculatively at his profile, eyeing the jutting nose and strong chin.

He turned as though he’d felt her gaze, and asked, ‘What’s that for?’

‘What?’ She looked away, watching a woman walk by on the pavement with a Siamese cat on a leash.

‘That look you just gave me,’ he said.

‘I was wondering if you can laugh at yourself.’ She raised her chin and met his eyes.

‘Think I can’t?’ He stared back at her.

Behind them a horn tooted gently. ‘The light’s changed,’ she told him.

He gave the other driver a wave, and sent the car gliding over the intersection. Picking up speed, he kept his eyes on the road and the traffic. ‘You didn’t seem to think I was particularly funny,’ he said, ‘last night.’

Last night she’d thought he was particularly insulting. ‘I wasn’t thinking of last night. Just...in general.’

‘Well...’ He slanted her a glance. ‘Perhaps you’ll find out, in time.’

Which suggested that they’d be seeing each other again after tonight.

They cruised through the Newmarket shopping area, and then crested a hill and drove past the colonial-style shops and trendy eating places in Parnell village. He didn’t speak again until they reached the restaurant down near the harbour, and he let her out of the car.

Briar half expected him to take over ordering her meal for her. Instead he allowed her to make her own choice and consulted her preference before deciding on the wine. The restaurant was crowded, but their table, lit by a single candle and discreetly dim wall-lighting, was screened by a couple of plants and a trellised partition, and next to a window overlooking a glimpse of the Waitemata Harbour. She wondered if he’d asked for it specially. ‘Have you been here before?’ she asked him.

‘Once. The food’s good. And the service.’

‘And the view.’ The darkened water reflected the lights of the city near the shore. Further out the moonlight had washed it with a subtle silvery patina. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘Mm-hmm.’ But when she looked back, his eyes were on her face. ‘You’re looking wonderful tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ve been telling myself all day you couldn’t be as beautiful as I remembered.’

‘I...thank you.’ She wasn’t unaccustomed to compliments. She’d travelled in Italy and France, and the men there weren’t backward in their comments on a woman’s appearance. But she was oddly flustered now. He didn’t sound admiring, but rather as if he was reporting a fact, almost clinically detached.

He said, ‘I’ve never seen eyes that colour before. Like moonlight on water.’

Instinctively she glanced out at the moonlit harbour, and returned her gaze to his in frank disbelief.

Kynan looked briefly out at the view, too. ‘Not quite the same, I admit. They remind me of nightfall in the Islands.’

Briar gave a little laugh.

‘What’s funny?’

‘My eyeshadow,’ she said, ‘is called “Tropic Dusk”.’

‘It’s a perfect description.’ He leaned over and brushed a finger very lightly over her eyelid. ‘I didn’t realise you were wearing shadow.’ He looked at the faint smudge on his finger and his eyes gleamed as he raised them again to hers.

She studied the starched white tablecloth, fiddled with a polished silver fork, and lifted a hand nervously to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ he invited.

‘What, everything?’ She looked up. She wasn’t shy or nervous, normally. He was only a man, and she’d had dealings with equally sophisticated men before, just as handsome, just as sure of themselves. Well, almost.

‘Where did you go to school?’ he asked. ‘Diocesan?’

Briar grimaced. ‘How did you guess?’

He laughed. ‘It isn’t hard, is it?’

Given what he knew or had guessed of her background, Briar had to admit it wasn’t. Xavier had always gone for the best. The most socially acceptable.

‘And after that—what?’ he asked, and answered for her, ‘University, right?’

‘Right,’ Briar conceded.

‘And a Bachelor of Arts degree, which you got easily.’

‘Am I that predictable?’

‘And then...you did your Overseas Experience. Along with a couple of girlfriends. Or a boyfriend.’

‘I went with a group of both sexes.’

‘Anyone special, for you?’

‘We made a pact before we left. No pairings. We had a great time, without hassles or emotional tangles.’

‘Where did you go?’

This was safe ground. She talked about her travels until their food arrived, and then asked if he’d done much travelling himself.

‘Closer to home, mostly. I crewed on a schooner round the Pacific Islands when I was younger.’

That was interesting, and she plied him with questions while they finished their dinner. And discovered that he did have an ability to laugh at himself—at least at his younger self, fighting seasickness in a mid-ocean squall, being the butt of a practical joke involving a fake shark fin in a lagoon in the Cook Islands, falling from a coconut palm when he tried to emulate the Fijians who climbed to the top with deceptive ease.

‘Were you hurt?’ she asked him.

‘Fortunately the sand was soft. I bruised my ego, that’s all. And took some teasing about it afterwards.’ He pushed his plate aside. ‘You don’t eat sweets, do you?’

‘Sometimes. I’d prefer cheese tonight, but don’t let me stop you.’

He shook his head. ‘I’ll join you. A cheese board,’ he said to the waiter who had appeared to take their plates. ‘And then coffee?’ He looked at Briar enquiringly.

‘Yes, thank you.’

Cutting herself a wedge of pale, delicately flavoured havarti, she asked, ‘So how do you become an investor? My father said you’d inherited a manufacturing company.’

He was placing a slice of gruyre on a cracker. When he looked up she thought he seemed wary. ‘My father’s firm made parts for ship-building. When he took over it already had a healthy profile. He expanded the base, used the profits to buy up various companies in related fields. His business judgement was impeccable.’ A bitter expression crossed his face, so fleetingly that Briar decided she’d imagined it.

‘And the firm survived when others went bust.’

‘He’d never over-extended on the basis of cash that he didn’t have. Since I took over I’ve tried to invest as wisely. And I’ve had a certain amount of luck.’

‘Luck?’

‘There’s an element of risk involved,’ he said. ‘What I like to do is step in when a firm is shaky but basically viable, save a good business from going down the drain, taking investors and staff with it. One of my purchases turned out to be a dud but the others covered the loss. Our shares haven’t made huge overnight gains. On the other hand, they’re steady climbers. They’re worth more than twice what they were a few years back.’

‘You’re a bit of a gambler?’

He picked up the cheese knife, then put it down again. ‘Is this leading somewhere?’

‘What do you mean?’ As his brows went up in scepticism, she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. ‘You asked me to tell you about myself. I was simply returning the compliment.’ She was angry, and didn’t care if he knew it.

After a moment he said, ‘OK.’ And he reached over and touched her hand, just a light touch on her skin. Oddly, she felt a tiny fluttering in her stomach, almost as though he’d threatened her in some way.

The coffee came, and she was glad of the diversion. She spooned cream into hers and stirred it broodingly.

‘So what do you do all day?’ he asked her.

‘I help out in a boutique in Newmarket owned by a friend. Fashion accessories.’

He didn’t seem madly impressed. She supposed it was small beer compared with his business empire. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘How long have you been doing that?’

‘About a year. Before that I worked for a market research firm, but they laid off some staff and it was last in, first out. And I’ve been a kennelmaid, receptionist, theatre assistant—before the theatre company went bust. Of course, overseas I picked up odd jobs—fruitpicking, waitressing—once I worked as a nanny for a little while.’

‘A pretty varied working life,’ Kynan commented.

‘I like variety. I was never blessed—or cursed—with a burning ambition for a particular career.’ She was happy to have work of any sort that provided her with some independence.

‘And you still live at home?’

‘Since I came back from overseas.’ His tone was non-committal, but she found herself reacting defensively. ‘It’s convenient and Laura likes having me there.’ When she had first returned she’d intended to go flatting. But Laura had seemed so relieved to have her home, and her father had taken it for granted that she’d stay. Somehow she had never made the move.

‘There’s no man in your life?’

‘If there was,’ she said, ‘I wouldn’t be here with you.’

‘You’re the faithful type?’ he mocked, as though he didn’t believe that such a type existed.

‘If I loved a man,’ she said, ‘I’d be faithful to him.’

‘And have you?’

‘Have I...?’

‘Ever loved a man?’

‘I’m not sure I...know what you mean.’

His mouth quirked. ‘It’s a simple question, but you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

It wasn’t a simple question at all. Of course she’d been in love, briefly and blindingly—and falsely, as it turned out. Because that couldn’t be real love, that died so easily and so fast. Real love, lasting love, was a different thing altogether. It hadn’t happened to her yet, and maybe never would. She only hoped that when it did she would recognise it. But what he’d been asking—what she’d thought he was asking—was if she’d had a lover in the physical sense.

‘It’s a very personal question,’ she said.

‘I’ll withdraw it if you like,’ he offered easily, as though it didn’t matter, after all. ‘Maybe...one day I’ll find out the answer.’

His smile glinted. Briar drew in a breath, ready to slay him with words, but of course that was what he was waiting for, her rising to the bait. And then he’d go all innocent and deny that he’d meant what she thought. She knew that game.

Well, she wasn’t going to play it with him. She kept her expression blank and raised her coffee-cup to her lips. Putting it down again, she said pleasantly, ‘That was a wonderful meal. Thank you.’

Kynan inclined his head. ‘Not at all. It was worth it for the pleasure of your company.’ He finished his coffee and asked, ‘More for you?’

Briar shook her head.

He paid the bill and took her arm as they left the restaurant. ‘It’s a nice night,’ he said. ‘Feel like a stroll along the waterfront?’ The scent of the sea came faintly to them. Moonlight still shimmered on the horizon.

It wasn’t late. Cars constantly passed by under the green glow of the street-lights. The night air was cool but pleasant. ‘All right,’ she heard herself say. ‘A short one.’

They walked slowly, and he took her hand and tucked it into his arm. She might have withdrawn it except for the darkness which the street-lights didn’t altogether dispel, and the high heels of her shoes. It wouldn’t do to trip and fall at his feet.

After a while they stopped and leaned on a guard-rail, looking out at the water and the multicoloured reflected lights, ceaselessly moving, and breaking into disjointed lines. Small, unseen wavelets lapped at the shore, and a fishy, salty scent rose from the breakwater. Briar removed her hand from Kynan’s and placed it on the cold metal of the railing.

Kynan turned and leaned back so that he could see her face. His elbows rested on the rail. ‘What did your father say when you told him you were going out with me?’ he asked her.

Briar glanced at him briefly. ‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘He said you must have taken a fancy to me.’ She tilted her head, challengingly.

Kynan gave a breathy laugh. ‘Not, “Good girl”?’

Briar drew away from the guard-rail, taking a step back from him. ‘I thought you’d admitted you were wrong about that.’

‘About you,’ he corrected her. ‘And your father is no fool. He’s right, of course. I have taken a fancy to you—just as he wanted me to.’ His voice was light, but there was an undercurrent to it that made her decidedly uncomfortable.

‘Am I supposed to be flattered?’

‘You needn’t be.’

She wasn’t at all sure what he was getting at. Why did she have the feeling that half of this conversation wasn’t taking place between the two of them at all, but somewhere inside his head?

‘I’m cold,’ she said.

His teeth gleamed whitely for a second. ‘Sure.’ He sounded as though he didn’t believe her for an instant. He knew she was retreating. ‘I’ll take you back to the car.’

He drove her home in silence, and she felt stifled and fidgety the whole time. At the house he got out and came round to her door, but she was already on the pavement when he reached her.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The meal was delicious.’

‘You’re not going to ask me in?’

‘I need an early night. We had a party last night, remember.’

‘Aren’t you used to late nights?’ He was looking at her curiously.

‘I don’t spend my life at parties, if that’s what you mean.’

‘How about tomorrow afternoon?’

‘What about it?’

‘It’s Sunday,’ he said patiently. ‘Are you free in the afternoon? Do you like cricket?’

‘You don’t need to offer me any more outings,’ she said. ‘The dinner was more than adequate atonement.’

‘Meaning, you don’t want to see me again?’

Why was he insisting on making her spell it out? She lifted a shoulder, not saying anything.

His voice soft, he said, ‘Playing hard to get, Briar?’

She almost choked on her indrawn breath. ‘If you still think that my father—’

He made a small, derisive sound. ‘This has nothing to do with your father. It’s to do with you—and me.’

Bewildered, she demanded, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘This,’ he said tersely, and he reached for her and pulled her into his arms and kissed her before she could do anything about it, driving her astonished lips apart with stunning eroticism. His mouth was warm and firm and compelling, and he gathered her body against his as if he knew that was where it belonged, with a sureness and grace that had her pliant as a willow branch for long seconds, before she stiffened and thrust her hands against him, wrenching herself away, her breath coming fast between her open, moistened lips.

He said, ‘That’s what I was talking about. If I took a fancy to you—and I did—at least it’s mutual. So stop pretending, Briar. Let’s be honest about it.’