Читать книгу Whisper Of Scandal - Kathryn Ross, Kathryn Ross - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

SABRINA had never been as nervous about a date as she was about lunch with Marc Kingsley. She paid special attention to her hair and make-up that day and took ages deciding what to wear.

She decided finally on a cream linen suit that had a short skirt and a long-line jacket. She teamed it with a peach silk blouse. The effect was both stylish and yet sensual. As she surveyed her appearance in the mirror she was comforted by the fact that she looked serene and calm. She would hate Marc to know just what chaos he had wrought to her system by that one kiss.

The effects of that kiss still remained with her now. She could feel heat rising inside her when she remembered how she had pressed close against him, how soft and skilled his mouth had felt against hers. She swallowed hard as she tried to dismiss the memory.

When the front doorbell rang she felt her stomach tying itself into knots. With a last glance in the mirror she went to let him in.

‘Good morning.’ Marc’s manner was brisk, but the eyes that swept over her appearance were very complimentary.

‘Would you like a coffee or anything before we leave?’ Sabrina invited softly.

He shook his head. ‘No time.’

‘Oh?’

He ignored the question in her eyes and smiled. ‘Are you ready?’

She nodded and turned to pick up her handbag.

‘And don’t forget your passport,’ he said casually.

‘My passport...’ She looked around at him in complete surprise. ‘Why do I need that?’

‘If you run along and get it, I’ll tell you on the way,’ he said with infuriating calm.

Sabrina’s hand wasn’t quite steady as she opened the drawer of her bureau and took out her passport. Where on earth was he taking her? she wondered. Her heart thudded with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Even a lunch date with Marc Kingsley felt like an adventure.

He looked exceptionally stylish this morning. He was wearing a dark suit that seemed to emphasise his dark good looks, his hair gleaming almost blue-black in the spring sunshine.

She was surprised to find that he wasn’t in his red Porsche this morning. Instead a long black limousine waited at the kerb, and a uniformed chauffeur held the door for them as they climbed into the luxurious seats.

‘This is very decadent.’ Sabrina smiled at Marc a little shyly.

‘Practical,’ he told her crisply. ‘I find it easier to have a chauffeur when I make business trips. I can carry on with my work as we travel and I don’t waste any time.’

‘I see.’ Her eyebrows rose slightly. ‘Am I to take it we are on a business trip?’

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘No, I just don’t want to waste time.’ Then he grinned at her. It was a deliciously wicked grin that did incredible things to her heart-rate.

‘Champagne?’ He leaned forward and pulled down a cabinet in front of them. Packed very neatly inside there were rows of bottles and crystal glasses, including a silver bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne.

‘It’s a little early for me,’ Sabrina murmured. She wasn’t used to drinking in the middle of the day at the best of times and, accompanied by such a suave, handsome man, she was frightened of lowering any of her barriers... especially to Marc Kingsley.

‘Nonsense.’ The champagne cork flew off with an almighty pop and the champagne flowed with frothy enthusiasm into two crystal glasses. ‘It’s never too early to start celebrating.’ He handed her the glass and she accepted it with only a moment’s pause.

‘What are we celebrating?’ she asked, wrinkling her nose as bubbles tickled it.

For a moment he considered her question. ‘Why, spring of course and the rising sap.’

She caught his eye and had to laugh. ‘You are incorrigible, Marc Kingsley,’ she said with a shake of her head.

‘I hope so.’ He reached across to top up her glass as she took a drink from its golden contents.

‘I hope you’re not trying to get me drunk,’ she said in a mock-teasing voice, ‘because it won’t work.’

One dark eyebrow rose at that. ‘My dear girl, I have never had to stoop so low.’ This time there was no laughter in his tone.

Sabrina could well believe it, and immediately she felt a little embarrassed at making such a comment.

‘Anyway, what do you mean, it won’t work?’ he went on to ask, the laughter back in his eyes.

Sabrina smiled and let the question pass without comment. ‘So where are we going for lunch?’

‘A lovely little restaurant I know on the Left Bank.’

For a moment Sabrina was puzzled. ‘The left bank of what?’

‘The Seine,’ he said matter-of-factly.

‘The Seine... in Paris?’ Her voice rose a little with the thrill of it.

‘No, in Clacton,’ he said with a teasing light in his eyes. ‘Yes, of course, Paris,’ he finished with a grin. ‘Where else would we go on such a magnificent spring day?’

She smiled and matched his nonchalant tone. ‘Of course... where else?’

Sabrina had never experienced such a day before. Marc was so amusing and so laid-back about everything. He whisked her into the first-class lounge at the airport and then almost immediately they were on board the aircraft. From then it was just half an hour before they were putting down in Paris.

She was on her third glass of champagne by the time they were being chauffeur-driven along the banks of the River Seine.

‘I can’t believe this,’ Sabrina murmured as she looked out at the sparkling water and the majestic buildings lit with the brilliance of spring sunshine.

‘Can’t you?’ He looked across at her, and then to her surprise he reached for her hand and pressed it close to his lips. ‘I could offer you the world, Sabrina,’ he said huskily. ‘Whatever you want, I could give you.’

Her heart seemed to flutter in some strange way as she looked into his eyes. She didn’t want anything, she realised with one strange jolt. It was enough to have him look at her like that.

She pulled her hand away from his, confused by her emotions. She couldn’t afford to get involved with Marc Kingsley, she told herself fiercely. This was a one-off. For the sake of her father, she had to remember that.

‘Have I said something wrong?’ he asked softly.

‘No...’ She shook her head, then forced herself to smile at him.

He didn’t return her smile. ‘I take it you are thinking about the other man in your life?’ His deep voice was suddenly spiced with an emotion Sabrina found hard to define.

‘No...’ She shook her head, but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. His lean features had a hard look to them suddenly, and his eyes glittered with cold, harsh light.

‘You’re a fool, Sabrina... he won’t leave his wife for you,’ he said grimly.

For a moment she was so stunned that she couldn’t answer him. ‘What...what on earth makes you think I would go out with a married man?’ she spluttered at last.

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It was just a passing notion.’

‘Well, I would let it pass if I were you,’ she said in a very angry tone.

He looked at her closely. It was so hard to tell what went on behind those cool, watchful eyes, she thought with a shiver.

‘If that’s what you want,’ he said at last.

‘Yes, it is.’ Sabrina frowned indignantly. Why had he assumed she was seeing a married man?

‘Come on.’ Marc leaned forward and tapped the glass partition. ‘You can leave us here,’ he said to the driver. ‘Pick us up at the restaurant at about four.’

The car pulled smoothly to a halt. ‘We may as well walk from here,’ Marc said, holding out a hand to her as she moved towards the door.

She ignored his outstretched hand and alighted to the pavement without help.

‘You’re not going to spend the rest of the afternoon in a sulk, are you, Sabrina?’ he asked as he closed the door and the limousine pulled away from them into the busy flow of traffic.

She caught his eye and then smiled. ‘I don’t sulk. I was just irritated that you could make such a rash assumption.’

‘I’ve made my fortune by them,’ he said in a dry voice. ‘You will have to forgive me.’

‘I’ll think about it.’ But she was already forgetting about it. It was such a glorious day. The sun sparkled over the wide boulevards with their grand buildings, the horse chestnuts were starting to unfurl their green banners; the feeling of spring was everywhere.

‘I love this time of year,’ she said, breathing in deeply.

His lips tugged into a lazy smile and he reached for her hand. ‘It’s a time for lovers to stroll hand in hand,’ he said in a low tone that sent Sabrina’s heart into overdrive.

She didn’t try to pull away from him; instead she allowed herself to savour the feeling of his warm skin next to hers. They walked along the banks of the Seine in silence for a while and for a moment Sabrina felt more relaxed than she had for a long time.

‘How old are you, Marc?’ she asked suddenly.

He looked at her with an amused glint in his eyes. ‘Thirty-six... why?’

She shrugged. ‘I was just wondering about you, that’s all.’

‘What were you wondering?’

‘Well... why you’re not married... don’t you want to settle down, have children?’ It must have been the champagne. She would never have asked him such a question ordinarily.

To her surprise he considered her question. ‘I would like children one day,’ he said seriously. ‘I’ve just never met anyone I want to settle down with.’

‘Garth says you are a heartbreaker.’ The words just slipped out and she regretted them immediately.

‘Does he now?’ Marc’s voice was arid.

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. Garth thinks the world of you,’ she continued hurriedly. ‘He was just...concerned.’

“That you might fall for me?’ He looked at her with a strange expression in his eyes.

‘No...’ Sabrina trailed off, wishing she had never started this conversation.

‘Did you tell Garth you were coming out with me today?’ he asked abruptly.

‘Yes, of course.’ Sabrina looked over at Marc. For a moment his expression looked harsh and remote, then he caught her watching him and smiled, making her wonder if she had imagined that look.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asked now.

She nodded. It was amazing but she was; for the first time in ages she had a real appetite.

They ate lunch in a beautiful restaurant that looked out over the river. It had a stylish ambience and Sabrina was very glad that she had taken so much trouble over her appearance that day.

The food was excellent. Sabrina chose seafood while Marc went for steak washed down with some excellent wine.

Later, as she listened to him speaking French to the waiters, Sabrina was reminded forcibly that he was half French and that he lived most of the time out here. He wasn’t in London very often. That thought upset her more than she had thought possible. How ridiculous, she chided herself. She couldn’t get involved with Marc anyway. It wasn’t fair to Garth and it wasn’t fair to Marc. You couldn’t possibly have any kind of relationship with a man that you had to keep such a large secret from.