Читать книгу All Male - Kay Thorpe - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

THEY lunched at Claridge’s. Not, Kerry believed, with any intent on Lee’s part to impress her, but because it happened to be one of his normal lunchtime haunts. One of the perks that would no doubt be on offer if she carried this thing through, she supposed. Not that she considered it an incentive in any way.

Her host drew recognition from others in the restaurant, not least from one man seated at a nearby table who kept eyeing the pair of them throughout the meal.

‘Kenneth Loxley,’ Lee told her when she finally asked who the man was. ‘He writes a gossip column for one of the tabloids. You’ll probably figure in it tomorrow as my mystery woman.’

‘Then perhaps you’d better explain who I really am,’ she advised, trying not to sound too sharp about it.

‘If he believed it he’d still make something of it.’ Lee gave a brief shrug. ‘It was probably a mistake to bring you here. I’m so inured to it all it never occurred to me to consider your side of things.’

‘I suppose,’ she said, ‘that the women you’d normally bring here wouldn’t be averse to a little publicity.’

He smiled faintly. ‘You could say that. Would you like to leave?’

Kerry looked back at him with veiled green eyes, fighting the urge to say, yes, she would. ‘It’s a bit too late, isn’t it? In any case,’ she added with deliberation, ‘I’m not passing up the sweet trolley. It isn’t often I get to choose from an array like that!’

‘It isn’t often I get to lunch a healthy appetite,’ he rejoined. ‘It makes a refreshing change.’ He studied her speculatively. ‘Speaking of change, the aggression seems to have lessened—some of the time, at any rate.’

Patchy performance, Kerry warned herself. She would need to do better if she was to be convincing. If the truth were known, she was beginning to relish the game—one from which she intended to emerge carrying that dark head on a platter!

‘I’ve decided,’ she said smoothly, ‘to take your advice and form my own opinion.’

‘Well, good for you. The first woman I’ve met capable of taking advice!’

Light though it was, the taunt made her bristle inwardly but she controlled it, summoning a smile of her own. ‘Maybe you just don’t meet the right types.’

Lee laughed, drawing another conjecturing glance from the other table. ‘Maybe you’re right. So we start over from scratch, do we?’

‘If you like.’

The grey eyes took on new depths. ‘Yes, I do like—although I’ll miss our spats.’

‘What makes you think there won’t be any more?’ she asked blandly. ‘I might form the same opinion I had to start with.’

‘I’ll have to make sure you don’t’

The arrival of the dessert trolley was a timely interruption, from Kerry’s point of view at least. Playing this kind of game with a man of Lee Hartford’s ilk might be a dangerous pastime, but it certainly gave life a little spice, she acknowledged, plumping for the succulent black forest gateau. She hadn’t felt as alive in ages!

With no job to go back to, and animosity put on a back burner for now, she was in no particular hurry for the meal to be over. Nor, apparently, was Lee himself, although she had heard his secretary remind him of a four o’clock appointment when they were leaving.

It was gone two already, she noted, catching a glimpse of his watch as he drained the last of his Perrier. The time had gone faster than she would have credited. In many respects he had proved himself an entertaining and stimulating companion. Too bad he was such a louse otherwise, she thought a little wistfully, viewing the firm features.

He looked up suddenly, catching her at it. Kerry felt the warmth under her skin, and knew from the quizzical lift of his eyebrow that her colour had risen. ‘A cat may look at a king,’ she parried, forcing a flippant note.

‘Smart creatures, cats,’ he observed. ‘Would you like coffee?’

She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. You must be wanting to get back to the office.’

‘There’s nothing immediately pressing,’ he returned. ‘I’ll drive you home first.’

Green eyes revealed swift dissension. ‘That really isn’t necessary. I can take the tube.’

‘Why do that when I have the car round the corner? Battersea, isn’t it?’

‘How did you know?’ she asked in surprise.

‘I rang Helen Carrington at Profiles that first day and asked for details. One can’t be too careful when it comes to taking strangers into one’s home.’ Her expression brought a quirk to the corners of his mouth. ‘Not my only motivation, I have to admit.’

Kerry kept her tone steady. ‘What else did Helen tell you?’

‘That you were one of Profile’s most reliable people: intelligent, industrious and thoroughly trustworthy.’

‘I never realised I was such a paragon,’ she said drily. ‘Maybe I should ask for more money.’

‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ Lee took the pen held out by the waiter, who had just arrived with the bill, signed without bothering to check it, exchanged a few friendly words with the man then got to his feet to come round and take Kerry’s wrap from the back of her chair, slipping it about her shoulders as she rose.

‘No arguments,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m driving you home.’

Playing up to his masculine assertion was all part and parcel of the plan, Kerry reminded herself, swallowing a tart response. It had to be better than the tube, anyway. She summoned a bland note. ‘You’re the boss!’

His laugh was low, his breath stirring her hair and his hands lingering where they touched. ‘Is that a fact?’

As he had said, his car was just around the corner. Only people with the luck of the devil could come up with a handy parking space in this area, thought Kerry, sliding into the soft leather passenger seat. They were out of time, too, she noted from the meter, but he didn’t even have a ticket.

‘I’m not always so fortunate,’ Lee acknowledged when she mentioned the matter. ‘I’ve been clamped on more than one occasion.’

‘Then why not use taxis?’ she queried.

The shrug was good-humoured. ‘I hate being driven.’

‘Better that, surely, than having to pay exorbitant sums to the clamping company—to say nothing of the waiting around?’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’

‘But you’ll still continue taking the risk.’ It was a statement this time, not a question, her tone expressing her opinion.

He gave her a sideways glance as he started the engine, his eyes taunting. ‘What’s life without a little risk?’

Safe, it was on the tip of her tongue to answer, except that it sounded so dull, so unimaginative. She was taking a risk herself in leading him on the way she planned, if it came to that. Who was to say how he might react to the kind of put-down she had in mind for him?

She was jumping the gun a little, she reflected at that point. One luncheon hardly established an ongoing interest. She stole a glance at his clean-edged profile, registering the sensuality in the fuller line of his lower lip and the strength of purpose in the jut of his jaw. Crisply styled, his hair was layered thickly into his nape, arousing in her a sudden urge to reach out and touch.

She was going to need constant reminders of the reason she was doing this, came the wry acknowledgement. His physical attraction was too obtrusive to be set wholly aside.

With the sun shining and the sky blue, Battersea looked more prepossessing than usual. Lee went straight to the right street without asking directions, suggesting that he’d probably looked it up on the map after discovering her address.

‘Thanks for the lunch, and for the ride,’ Kerry proffered as he drew up. ‘I expected neither.’

‘A small return for services rendered.’ There was a brief pause before he added lightly, ‘I wouldn’t say no to a coffee to round things off.’

Kerry hesitated, torn between two fires. Common courtesy made a flat refusal difficult, but she was reluctant to be alone with him right now.

‘Just coffee,’ he added on an ironic note, watching her face. ‘I never jump on a woman who doesn’t want to be jumped on.’

‘In that case,’ she heard herself saying without having come to a conscious decision, ‘by all means come up for coffee.’

Redecorated earlier in the year by Jane and herself in pastel colours, and with their own personal choice of fabrics at the windows and objets d’art around the place, the first-floor flat looked ten times better than when she had lived there with Sarah, but it still bore little comparison with what Lee was accustomed to.

The majority of the furniture came with the place. Apart from adding a scattering of colourful cushions and a throw-over cover to the sofa, there was no disguising the general mediocrity.

Whatever Lee might think of it, he gave no indication. He seemed to fill the small living room with his presence.

‘Have a seat while I make the coffee,’ Kerry invited, dropping her wrap on a chair along with her bag. ‘It will have to be instant, I’m afraid. We’re right out of ground.’

‘Instant’s fine,’ he said easily.

Instead of sitting down and waiting, he followed her to the tiny kitchen, lounging in the doorway while she put on the kettle and set out a tray.

She could see him on the periphery of her vision, his hands thrust into trouser pockets—pulling the material taut across his thighs in a way that tensed every nerve in her body.

Her hand caught against the rim of the jar as she spooned coffee, scattering some of the contents over the work surface and drawing an automatic exclamation of annoyance at her own clumsiness. It didn’t help to see Lee’s grin when she glanced round.

‘Don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘I’d have probably come out with something a whole lot stronger in similar circumstances.’

Kerry took care to keep her tone easy. ‘Except that you’re unlikely to find yourself in similar circumstances, of course.’

‘Oh, I’m not beyond making myself a cup of coffee. I even cook a meal on occasion.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘When would you need to?’

‘Mrs Ralston has all day Sunday off. Since Mother came to stay I’ve sometimes cooked for us both. She’s far from being the domesticated type.’ The last without rancour. ‘Men make the best chefs, anyway.’

Kerry took that statement no more seriously than she was sure it was meant to be taken. ‘Of course they do!’

Lee quirked an eyebrow. ‘It makes a change to have you humouring me.’

‘Just so long as you don’t expect it all the time,’ she came back lightly.

‘I wouldn’t be so presumptuous.’ He paused, viewing her reflectively. ‘Have we said a final goodbye to the antagonism?’

Green eyes met grey, riveted by the sheer mesmeric quality of his gaze. Kerry felt her pulse quicken, her heart start thudding against her ribcage.

‘It depends on whether or not you arouse it again,’ she murmured.

‘I’ve still to work out just what it was that aroused it originally.’ He held up a hand as she made to speak. ‘Don’t give me that “what you’ve read and heard” story. You’re too intelligent to take gossip column reports on trust.’

‘Perhaps you’re giving me too much credit,’ she said.

‘Or perhaps it’s because I remind you of someone else?’ he suggested.

Kerry reached for the boiling kettle, concentrating on pouring the water without slopping it over the rim of the cups. ‘Like the man who supposedly let me down, for instance?’

‘It might explain your attitude.’

She could explain her attitude by bringing in a single name, but that would finish the game too soon, she told herself.

‘If I’ve reacted differently today it’s because you’ve been different, too,’ she prevaricated, leaving him to draw his own conclusions.

‘In what way?’

‘Less arrogant, for one thing.’

‘Arrogant?’ The intonation was humorous. ‘Is that how I come across?’

‘Normally, yes. You’re too used to dishing out the orders.’

‘If you’re referring to that taxi business I was simply being solicitous.’

‘For my own good, you mean?’

‘Something like that. You are going to take advantage of the arrangement, I hope?’

‘I’d be a fool not to.’ She softened her voice with deliberation to add, ‘And I’m sorry for being such a boor about it.’

‘Apology accepted.’ He moved to take the tray from her as she lifted it. ‘I’ll carry this through. You just bring yourself.’

As she followed him Kerry found herself assessing the breadth of his shoulders again, visualising the rippling muscularity. No woman with normal reflexes could fail to be stirred by his sheer physical attraction, she acknowledged, but that was as far as it went. What he lacked, along with so much more, was integrity—in his personal affairs, at any rate. Business-wise, he appeared to be above board. At least, nothing untoward had ever been publicised.

It would look a little too pointed if she moved her wrap and handbag from the nearby chair in order to avoid joining him on the sofa, she decided on reaching the sitting room, although she wasn’t entirely convinced by his earlier declaration.

‘You have a good memory,’ Lee commented as he took his cup of the black, sugarless liquid.

‘Easy when you like it the same way I do,’ she claimed without haste. ‘Mrs Ralston’s tastes better, of course. I shouldn’t imagine she’d give house room to anything but the genuine article.’

‘She might not. I certainly do. I’m all for the easy option.’

‘I doubt that.’

Head back against the cushion and feet comfortably crossed, he gave her a deceptively lazy look. ‘You don’t really know me.’

‘I don’t know you at all,’ she returned. ‘Only, as you keep telling me, what others say about you.’ She infused a tinge of regret into both voice and expression. ‘Perhaps it’s not all that fair to judge anyone on that basis alone, I admit.’