Читать книгу Torn By Desire - Natalie Fox, Natalie Fox - Страница 6

‘GUY LATHAM?’ Kate wailed, flicking her shoulderlength auburn bob behind her ears and swinging round from her computer to face Ed Hughes, head of her section.

‘I thought that would bring a flush of colour to your cheeks.’ Ed drawled knowingly.

Oh, how wrong could he get? If she was sporting a flush it certainly wasn’t with fiery anticipation at the mention of Guy Latham. The flush had been brought about by Ed’s announcement that she was to fly down to Marbella tonight to help out at the Spanish division of the company. Conrad, the elder of the two Latham brothers who owned the firm, usually handled that end of the commodity-broking company from the Latham villa in Marbella, and twice a year he flew privileged London staff down to familiarise them with what was going on. This time Conrad had picked her so was it any wonder she was glowing? Guy Latham accompanying her on the trip certainly wasn’t flush-inducing.

‘Th-this isn’t a wind-up?’ Kate breathed, wide-eyed and scarcely able to believe her good fortune. No, not good fortune. In nine months she’d been a conscientious worker and Conrad, for the second time, was showing his appreciation. The first time, last month, on one of his monthly flying visits to the UK, he had stayed long enough to praise her work to the hilt and take her out to dinner. He’d been the most perfect of escorts, a true gentleman in every sense of the word, and by the end of the evening she’d thought she was a little bit in love with him.

‘No wind-up, sweetheart. You’re definitely booked on a flight tonight.’

Kate was over the moon and her heart was just a little racy. Conrad wanted her and maybe…She gave an inward shiver of anticipation. Conrad was gorgeous. The only black spot on her dizzy horizon was travelling down to Marbella with Conrad’s awful brother, Guy ‘Lothario’ Latham.

If ever there was a man Kate detested it was Guy. If ever there was a man Kate secretly worshipped it was Conrad. A real man. Mature, with taste and sophistication and a solid business head on his broad shoulders. Guy Latham did nothing for Kate’s pulse rate, though every female in the company would think her certifiable if she ever admitted it. She had once, though, and learnt her lesson.

‘I can’t see what you all see in the egotistical creep,’ Kate had murmured after one of Guy’s morning sweeps through the office. Oh, boy, did he know what he had and how to use it. One steelyeyed look from those piercing dark eyes, the merest hint of a cynical white smile, and anything in a skirt melted at his feet in adoration.

‘Huh, you don’t fool me, Kate Stephens.’ Lorraine Hunter had snapped. ‘Why should you be any different? The man is every woman’s fantasy hero—tall, dark, drop-dead good-looking, dangerous and desirable. If you can’t see that, you must be severely visually impaired. I suppose you think by being standoffish with him he’ll want you all the more. Forget it, Guy doesn’t bother with challenges.’

Very true. He didn’t have to. Women dropped submissive at his feet all the time—and they were welcome. Fortunately Kate had little contact with him anyway but she felt that if she did sparks would fly because one thing about a man she couldn’t abide was arrogance and the knowledge that he only had to snap his fingers and some silly female would come running. She was still raw from a previous relationship with someone cast in a similar mould and wasn’t looking for further punishment.

No, Guy didn’t raise her pulse rate one degree, but—Lorraine adored him and obviously thought Kate was playing hard to get in the hope of snapping him up, and the wrath of Lorraine she could live without. She’d kept her observations to herself after that particular run-in with her.

‘And Lorraine is going down with you as well.’ Ed added, and came round her console to perch his lean frame on the end of it.

Kate swung back to face her computer and stared gloomily at the screen. That was all she needed. Lorraine was one of that rare breed of women with beauty and brains and knew it. For some reason she had never taken to Kate but tolerated her because she couldn’t find fault with her work. Kate was good at it and longed for promotion but Lorraine was blocking her way. Lorraine’s job of marketing manager was the exalted position Kate would have liked for herself but unless Lorraine left there wasn’t much chance. And Lorraine wasn’t likely to leave while Guy Latham was still single. Her surname wasn’t Hunter for nothing.

‘Of course, you know what that means, don’t you?’ Ed went on, a teasing edge to his tone.

Kate tilted her chin to look at him directly, her dark eyes sparkling, trying to inject genuine interest into them for Ed’s sake. He loved a good gossip and that was obviously where all this was leading. ‘No, I don’t, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,’ she trilled.

Oh, how Kate had despised this in-house chitchat when she had first joined the company, but it seemed to be a way of life to them all. She was used to it now but never partook in it herself, always holding back because she had nothing to offer. She wasn’t in the least bit romantically interested in Guy Latham, who to Kate epitomised most men’s chauvinistic attitude to women, Conrad an exception, of course.

Ed grinned widely and leaned towards her. ‘It means that you haven’t much chance with Guy Latham when Lorraine is around,’ he said teasingly.

Like I’m interested, Kate thought sarcastically. She gave Ed a disappointed grimace and a slight shrug of her narrow shoulders because that was what he expected. It had never occurred to him that she might be the only woman in the world immune to Guy’s dubious charms.

‘So they are an item at last, are they?’ Kate asked, though it really didn’t interest her one little bit.

‘Well, his attention to her lately sure looks that way and Lorraine is hardly Miss Innocent,’ Ed told her conspiratorially.

Sometimes the men were worse than the women, Ed being a case in point, Kate thought, trying to look interested, her brown eyes still wide with forced curiosity.

‘They have had their moments,’ Ed went on, ‘and it looks like they are in for a few more. Hot, balmy Mediterranean nights and all that. It wouldn’t surprise me if they really got it together down there.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘And you’ll be on hand to report back.’

‘I’ll be on hand to do a job of work, Ed Hughes,’ Kate retorted, not able to hide the disgust in her voice this time.

Ed laughed and shifted off her console to pat her head piously. ‘Now if that isn’t a dead give-away I don’t know what is.’

Kate suppressed a sigh of protest. Best not to say anything. No one could ever believe that there was a female in the company who hadn’t been bowled over by that dangerous but desirable Guy Latham. Thank God she had never admitted that she admired Conrad more; she’d never have lived it down. Not that Conrad was unattractive—he was betterlooking than his younger brother in Kate’s eyes. But he was deemed totally unavailable because of serious wealth and seniority and not being around very much, whereas Guy was in the office most days, overseeing the business with steely determination and fluttering female hearts. To Kate he was a bore and a boor.

‘So what are my instructions? I’ll be flying down tonight, you said…’

Kate only half listened to his instructions for her as she gazed past him. It was early August and rain was shushing against the office window. ‘Hot, balmy Mediterranean nights’ evoked thoughts of love and romance even in a heart as hardened as Kate’s.

Deep inside she longed for love but bitter experience had taught her it was but a dream. She’d lived that dream with Gustav for a short time then the nightmare had set in. One woman hadn’t been enough for him but he hadn’t had the courage to tell her to her face; it had been left to friends to enlighten her, all the more painful to bear because of bruised pride.

Her mother’s attitude hadn’t helped. She’d warned her against him and then hit her with ‘I told you so’ when it hadn’t worked out. All men were the same, according to her mother, who had been cheated on by Kate’s father right from the start of their turbulent marriage.

Kate reluctantly had to agree with her, Guy Latham being a prime example of everything Kate was wary of in a man. He was conceited and arrogant and had an ego as whopping as Canary Wharf, but Conrad was something else—a true gentleman, a much nicer, gentler man. A real man. Concentrate, Kate warned herself. This was work and not pleasure. She wanted promotion, didn’t she? It meant more to her than any man ever could but, on the other hand …if she ever fell, Conrad was certainly in line to be ‘fell upon’!

‘No, not there, Kate. Behind us. Guy and I have some things to go over,’ Lorraine Hunter coolly ordered.

Without a word of protest Kate moved to the row behind them in the business-class section of their flight. She was quite surprised that she hadn’t been relegated to the back of the aircraft with all the noisy tourists. It was obvious that Lorraine resented her being asked down to Marbella and it was obvious that Guy Latham wondered why she had been picked too.

He had hardly directed a handful of words her way. But that wasn’t unusual. Macho man he might be but he had never considered her in line for a conquest so never bothered with her. To him she was part of the office furnishings.

Watching the backs of their heads as the aircraft took off, Lorraine’s glossy red-gold, Lothario’s glossy blue-black, almost touching as they leaned together to go over some paperwork on their laps, Kate was able to reflect that at least those two were destined for a good time together—but would it last?

Kate supposed she was cynical about the whole concept of love and romance, being an only child from a broken marriage. Her father had eventually left her mother for another woman when Kate was small and she had cut her teeth on her mother’s bitterness. But at eighteen she had fallen hopelessly in love with Gustav, in Austria where they had been living at the time. Her mother’s predictions had come horribly true and, chastened by the whole painful business of love, she had concentrated on her studies rather than on men.

Conrad was different, though. On landing the job at Latham’s Kate had, for the first time in her life, met a man she couldn’t help admiring. Here was an older, mature man who could be trusted, the sort who once he fell in love would give his all. Kate closed her eyes and lost herself in a silly, dreamy fantasy to pass the time.

She felt something being eased onto her lap and blinked open her eyes. She glanced down to see the flight magazine and, lying across it, a single red carnation. Her eyes widened and she looked up to see Guy Latham towering over her, all macho arrogance in a lightweight pale grey suit with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows like some stylish movie star. He was smiling, not openly or even in a friendly way—just the small, arrogant smile he used when dealing with the opposite sex.

Kate’s stomach tightened and she glanced at Lorraine who was obviously sound asleep with her golden head lolling to one side.

Guy bent down, so close to her that she smelt his cologne. Quite seductively unobtrusive, she noted with surprise. Someone with taste must have bought it for him!

‘There’s an article in there that might interest you,’ he said softly in her ear.

Kate widened her eyes again in surprise. How could he possibly know what might interest her? He didn’t know her.

He said nothing more but turned away to speak to the stewardess who had been hovering hopefully and Kate hadn’t a chance to flick through the magazine as the seat-belt sign flashed on.

She was still clutching the single red carnation when they landed but quickly discarded it when she realised that it was the one off his meal tray.

The hot Mediterranean air hit them as soon as they disembarked and Kate felt a thrill of excitement. Though it was dark now it somehow added to the buzz of exhilaration inside her. She had travelled widely with her mother, who was a travel writer, and it always excited her.

A chauffeur-driven Mercedes awaited them outside Málaga airport and Lorraine made sure she was squarely seated between her and Guy, which greatly amused Kate. Lorraine just wasn’t taking any chances.

‘I adore Marbella,’ Lorraine enthused as they sped along the busy motorway, west out of Málaga. ‘The Spaniards sure know how to live, don’t they, Guy? Look at it. Midnight and they are just starting. I could settle here, you know. Sun and the marvellous nightlife…’

She babbled on and Kate closed off, gazing out of the window at the busy hotels, tall palm trees and sparkling lights. She wondered what went on behind the gloss, down the little narrow alleyways with the muddle of whitewashed terraced houses leaning against each other, their tiny balconies dripping geraniums and bougainvillea.

Lorraine nudged her knee. ‘You’re being spoken to, Kate. Pay attention,’ Lorraine seethed.

‘Sorry?’

Guy repeated, ‘Is it your first time?’

‘First time what?’ she asked, leaning forward to acknowledge his question. She hoped Lorraine wasn’t going to patronise her all the time in front of the Latham brothers. So she was fairly new to the company, but she wasn’t a gauche little mouse.

‘First time abroad,’ Lorraine snapped irritably.

‘Hardly’, Kate murmured, leaning back in her seat. It struck her that Lorraine was very stiff sitting next to her. She wondered why. ‘I went to school in Switzerland and lived in France and Austria for ten years, and when I wasn’t studying I travelled with my mother; she writes travel guides,’ she told them.

She heard Guy laugh softly.

‘Proper little Eurochild, aren’t you?’ Lorraine said under her breath, and Kate heard another small laugh from Guy.

I’m not going to enjoy this, Kate suddenly thought as they swept off the motorway. Already she could feel Lorraine’s animosity towards her. At twenty-two she wasn’t a child but if Lorraine kept undermining her this way…But then, when had it been any different since she’d joined the company? Kate was good at her work and for some reason Lorraine resented that, though her position in the company hadn’t been achieved by her just being a beautiful face. Sometimes Kate didn’t understand women, even less so when Lorraine suddenly acted so unsophisticatedly that it almost took Kate’s breath away.

‘Oh, Guy!’ Lorraine breathed ecstatically, leaning across him to gaze out of his side of the car. Security gates had swished open on their approach to the Lathams’ villa. ‘Have you ever seen anything like that?’

Which was a pretty dumb question, Kate thought, seeing as Guy was part owner of the property. But Kate supposed that she was trying to ingratiate herself with him and acting madly impressed.

So, it was a great-looking place, way over the top for Kate’s modest tastes, and she felt a small thrum of disappointment. It screamed out the status of its owners. Kate had honestly believed Conrad to have more conservative taste. It was brashly floodlit for one thing, giving the villa a pinky movie-town glow about it. A Hollywood-style pool surrounded by strident palm trees was the main focal point in front of the villa. The house was sprawling, pink and red-roofed, with an ornate wrought-iron balcony running across the top floor and decorative shutters at the windows. The patios below were of pink-hued marble with reproduction figurines and statues and lush potted plants dotted around. Pillared archways led to the gardens surrounding the secluded property and were floodlit too and promised fragrant walks amongst stunning tropical vegetation—if you could bear the glare of the pinktinted lighting.

Perhaps it was just fatigue that added to this feeling of disappointment inside Kate at the sight of such gross lavishness. But this was Guy’s property too, she reasoned, and flashness was a definite part of his nature, so perhaps it was his taste more than his brother’s.

Staff suddenly descended on them from the villa and the disappointment was heightened when Conrad didn’t appear and Kate found herself and her bags taken over by a maid who introduced herself as Charo and spoke fairly good English. Charo—pretty, dark-haired and olive-skinned, about the same age as Kate—led her round the side of the villa, away from Guy and Lorraine, who were heading towards the front entrance, Lorraine hanging onto Guy’s arm and neither of them even glancing back to see if Kate was following.

‘Señor Latham thought you would be more comfortable in the guest house,’ Charo told her with a beaming smile.

Kate’s heart went into reverse and dejectedly she followed, reminding herself that she was here to work. Lorraine got the main house with Guy and she was consigned to the crummy old guest house, tucked out of the way. And there was she nurturing thoughts that Conrad might have specifically asked for her to be sent over, with amorous intentions in mind. She was more than likely spare to requirements in the London office.

‘Oh,’ Kate breathed, her hand going to her throat in delicious surprise. Charo had just opened an arched oak door in a white wall and stepped back to let Kate enter. The door opened into a cobblestoned courtyard—a courtyard so olde-worlde and hot and scented and dripping with grapevines from the dark wooden beams overhead that Kate was overwhelmed. It was lit, but only just. Candles burned in black iron sconces on the rough white walls. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she uttered in surprised awe.

Charo looked happy that she found it so agreeable. ‘It’s the best part of the estate, the original old finca. The rest it came later. Señor Latham love this place. Come inside. I show you.’

Overwhelmed with relief that this was Conrad’s personal taste, Kate followed her into the cool, stone-floored house, her heart thudding nervously as Charo showed her round. Conrad had thought she would like this in preference to the opulence of the main house; it was an exciting thought.

It was furnished beautifully with Spanish antiques, nothing over the top. Simple, peasant-type antiques and old Turkish rugs on the polished terracotta floor occupied the spacious main room downstairs. There were several shallow steps and an archway leading to another room. One wall was lined with books, a huge fireplace dominated another, and paintings and small windows adorned another. Upstairs there were three bedrooms, none over-sized. All had old Spanish beds with carved wooden frames and downy mattresses with heavy lace bedspreads. There was matching lace at the open windows. The scent of jasmine perfumed the air from the courtyard below.

The two bathrooms were sympathetic additions to the original rooms, white and gold and cool, and downstairs Charo showed her the small, efficient kitchen that she wasn’t expected to use.

‘I cook your breakfast and lunch and you dine at the villa in the evening. Señor Latham wanted this part kept away from the main house, so it does not connect. You have to go back the way we came, through the garden.’ Charo smiled. ‘You like the guest house?’

Kate nodded and smiled happily. ‘It’s lovely,’ she enthused. This was Conrad’s taste, not that pretentious villa beyond. And he had allocated it to her. She was overwhelmed with happiness and flattered beyond measure. It was a very special, secret place and already she was in love with it.

‘You very lucky,’ Charo told her in the main room downstairs as Kate wandered around, smoothing her fingertips over the polished surface of the dark wood dining table. ‘Señor Latham allows no one here,’ she said meaningfully.

Kate’s head shot up and her heart started pounding recklessly as she stared at Charo, whose dark eyes were sparkling mischievously. Charo laughed at her expression. ‘I unpack for you.’

‘No,’ Kate told her quickly with a smile. ‘I’d rather do it myself.’ She wanted to be alone to take all this in. It was beyond her wildest expectations but a little unnerving. The implications of it all were too much for the moment. ‘Thank you, Charo. I’d like to shower and go to bed and—’

‘But dinner is being prepared at the villa. My mother, she cooks for everyone.’

‘Dinner?’ Kate glanced at her watch. She couldn’t eat at this time of night, or rather the early hours of the morning. ‘No dinner.’ She smiled at Charo again. ‘Please make my excuses.’ Much as she wanted to see Conrad again and to thank him for his thoughtful hospitality, she really was on her last legs.

Half an hour later she was in bed. Cool and relaxed after a long, warm shower. She slept like the proverbial log.

Coffee! She could smell coffee brewing and bacon grilling. Delicious. She stretched luxuriously in the downy bed. Sun filtered dreamily into the room and cicadas serenaded the last remnants of sleep from her muddled head. Charo was cooking her breakfast. I could get used to this, she thought as she yawned and relished another long stretch. But she was here to work.

Reluctantly she got up, washed and dressed quickly in cool white cotton trousers and a canary-yellow camisole top, and, slipping on flip-flops, dashed downstairs. Hopefully Charo would fill her in on the routine here—something Lorraine and the awful Guy had omitted to tell her. She hadn’t a clue what time she was expected to start work.

‘Charo!’ she called. She followed her nose and the aroma of coffee led her out into the shady but still very warm courtyard.

Kate stopped dead in her tracks and let out a small ‘Oh’ of surprise.

Guy Latham sat at the wooden table under the grapevine, looking coolly elegant in off-white linen trousers and a crisp white shirt, a somewhat surprising multi-hued silk tie at his throat. It was hotvery—but he looked cool, if a little formal for such a climate. His dark hair was slicked back and was still damp from a shower. Kate took all this in because she had time. He was sitting drinking coffee and reading the business section of the Observer and might have been in London instead of the jetset paradise of Marbella.

He looked up, saw her hovering and then glanced back at his paper.

‘I don’t think you are appropriately dressed for work, do you?’ he said without looking at her, as if once was enough.

Oh, first mistake. She should have checked. She felt herself blushing hotly and in confusion went to turn back into the house.

‘Hold it! Come back here. Sit down. Charo!’ he called out. ‘Bring Kate’s breakfast and pronto!’

Kate was frozen to the spot now, wondering if he had come to fetch her. Was she late?

He looked up again, sighed in exasperation, folded his paper up neatly and pointed to the wooden chair across the table from him.

Kate crossed the courtyard, sat down and stared at him, feeling a chill of apprehension run through her. She hadn’t expected to find him sitting in the courtyard and his abrasive tone was a shock too. Charo put a breakfast plate of bacon, eggs and tomatoes down in front of her and disappeared back into the house. Kate sat mutely and watched him pour coffee for her.

‘You haven’t been briefed, have you?’ he said coldly.

‘Briefed?’ she uttered weakly.

‘Obviously not.’ He didn’t look very pleased, as if it were her fault.

‘Lorraine should have told you,’ he said, pushing the coffee-cup towards her. ‘Just because the climate is different here it’s no excuse for sloppiness. You’re late, not appropriately dressed and-’

‘Just a minute.’ Kate rallied, putting two and two together and coming up with a typical Lorraine putdown. Lorraine hadn’t said a word to her about schedules and expectations and that wasn’t surprising. Lorraine didn’t like her. ‘I’m sorry if I’m late, sorry if my attire doesn’t meet with your approval, but—’

‘Sweetheart, don’t give me a hard time,’ he interrupted lazily. ‘You can come on to me any time in see-through silk and I won’t complain but—’

‘Don’t speak to me that way!’ Kate shot back, and was on her feet in a trice, seeing her career slipping away without trace. She wasn’t going to be spoken to as if she were another to add to his entourage of adoring women.

‘That’s what I like,’ he drawled. ‘A woman with spirit. Sadly it isn’t what turns my brother on. Are you getting my drift?’

Wide-eyed, Kate gaped at him. ‘No, I’m not getting your drift,’ she retorted heatedly, clenching her fists at her sides.

‘Sit down, then, and let me tell you about it.’

Sensibly Kate did as she was told, regretting her outburst but only just holding onto her temper.

‘Eat before your breakfast gets stale. I’ll do the talking and then if you have anything to offer you’re welcome to give it a try.’ He leaned back in his chair and watched her with dark eyes fringed with thick black lashes.

Kate averted her eyes to the breakfast in front of her. She was starving but couldn’t eat, so numb with shock that she couldn’t move to pick up the fork. Shakily she managed to reach for the coffee-cup.

‘You need more than caffeine to nourish that skinny little body of yours. Now pick up that knife and fork and eat, because if you don’t I’m going to have to do it for you and I will,’ he threatened darkly.

Kate shot him a look of pure poison. He really was the most arrogant pig she had ever met. He was also one of her bosses. She started to eat.

‘That’s better.’

Kate gripped her cutlery tightly and glared at him. He might be her boss but she didn’t have to take this patronising attitude.

‘And that’s enough,’ she told him firmly. ‘I don’t like being spoken to in that tone and I don’t like being ordered around this way. So I’ve put my foot in it this morning, but I’m pleading ignorance and I’ve apologised. I’m not a three-year-old and I’m not stupid. Correct my mistake and give me a dressing down but don’t, just don’t patronise me.’ She started eating and when she looked up at him he was smiling at her—thinly.

‘You’re executive material, you know.’

‘Really,’ she mumbled between mouthfuls. Here we go, she thought; he was trying to flatter her now that she had shown a bit of rebellion. She wondered if she was the first to have stood up to him.

‘I’m only trying to be helpful,’ he said in a softer tone. ‘Think yourself lucky you are being addressed by me this morning and not my brother.’

‘I’m grateful,’ she uttered.

‘Sarcasm doesn’t become you. Now listen to me, Kate Stephens, and listen good because I’m on your side.’

Kate listened, Oh, yes, she listened, because she knew already that she had overstepped the mark. The trouble was, Guy Latham didn’t impress her one bit. She didn’t need to kowtow to him because she knew she was good at her job. So she was being a bit risky with him, but she hadn’t been asked down here to Marbella for nothing. Only the best got asked and Conrad had put her in his favored guest house and that counted for something. But she mustn’t push her luck with his brother all the same.

‘Go on,’ she murmured compliantly.

‘We start work at nine. We dress as we would in an office environment in the UK. The office suite is air-conditioned so you shouldn’t suffer any discomfort. My brother expects high standards. This is no different a routine from the usual. We work the same way as we do in the UK.’

Conrad would expect high standards, of course. Kate saw that now and she would respect his wishes because she respected him, though she ruefully thought that a less austere routine would be easier to live with in this heat. Never mind.

‘I will deal with Lorraine myself because she should have told you all this,’ Guy went on. ‘And I’ll smooth over your lateness with Conrad and I’ll also explain you had a headache or something last night and retired to—’

‘What do you mean?’

He eyed her levelly across the table. ‘You were expected to dine with us last night and—’

‘I wasn’t asked!’ Kate protested.

‘You were told. Charo told you.’

Yes, she remembered. Embarrassment engulfed her and she swallowed it down hard ‘I…I didn’t realise and I was tired. I didn’t realise I was expected to take my orders from the maid.’

‘You take orders from me, Kate,’ he told her, scraping his chair back and getting to his feet. His dark, moody eyes met hers. ‘Remember that and save yourself unnecessary stress. You answer to me, understand?’

Kate nodded and wished she weren’t there. Marbella palled and those hot, balmy Mediterranean nights were but a figment of an overactive imagination. This was all turning into a video nasty, with Guy Latham in the starring role. Poor me, Kate thought as she mumbled, ‘I’d better get changed, then.’

‘Anything I can do?’ he breathed suggestively.

‘Yes,’ Kate returned defiantly. ‘Keep out of my way.’

‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’ he questioned darkly.

Actually she wasn’t sure. She supposed it was some sort of warning. After all, he thought himself a gift to women, but surely he wasn’t trying it on with her? No, she was sure he wasn’t because he’d had nine months to try and not once had he shown her any interest.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in response after deciding that a quiet life was very preferable to riling Guy Latham. She didn’t want to be thrown off this job before it had even started. ‘I’m overreacting. This is my first assignment down here and I’m not at all sure of the procedure. I’ll get changed and then perhaps we can start all over again.’ She gave him a hesitant smile and he simply nodded.

‘I’ll wait for you,’ was all he said as Kate turned away.

That was something at least, Kate pondered as she hurried upstairs to change into something more businesslike. Lorraine she would tackle later for not preparing her for this. Her reason was obvious. To belittle Kate in the Latham brothers’ eyes. Guy, surprisingly, had offered her a helping hand. He probably felt sorry for her. Well, sorry she didn’t need from him.