Old Desires/A Stranger's Kiss (2-in-1 edition) (10 page)

‘In Ashbrooke?’ she countered.

His forehead creased thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps not in Ashbrooke,’ he admitted.

Holly was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain her pose under his unrelenting scrutiny. She swallowed, hard. ‘Can you see the house from here?’ she asked, and without waiting for an answer she stood up and crossed to the window. Joshua followed her.

‘It’s over there.’ He took her shoulders and gently moved her round and, standing close behind her, directed her to the furthest point visible from the window. ‘You can just see the rooftop.’

His hands remained on her shoulders, the touch of his fingers electric against her bare skin, the length of his body hard against her back. She remained perfectly still, aware that things were moving much too quickly. Spiralling out of her control.

‘Turn round, Holly.’

His voice vibrated against her scalp, charging the fine down on her cheeky making every nerve-end hyper-sensitive, so that she was aware of the heat of his body, the steady thud of his heart against her spine.

She turned quickly, a laugh ready to tease away any expectations, but the words died on her lips as his hands slid down to her waist and he drew her close against him and, quite without warning, she was no longer cool. No longer in control.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Doing?’ she breathed.

‘You know exactly what I mean. Or do I have to show you?’ Breathing was quite suddenly impossible as she caught the full impact of a mouth ready to take hers by storm.

‘Well?’ he murmured.

She had been an idiot to think that she could outplay someone like Joshua Kent. He wasn’t some ordinary small-town man of her own age but an experienced man of the world. And she wasn’t a child who could expect to flirt and run. There was only one way he would interpret her behaviour.

She had been a fool and had to move, now, quickly, before it was too late. But her legs wouldn’t obey her, or perhaps they knew better than she did what she wanted. Her tongue nervously moistened her lips as his head began to descend and she closed her eyes to obliterate the sight of his eyes, smoky with desire, to hide from the knowledge that she no longer cared about his motives.

It was a tap at the door that saved her. For a desperate moment she thought he was going to ignore it as they remained perfectly still, arched together, his lips an inch from hers. Then he straightened, steadying her momentarily.

‘I forgot the first rule of the game, Holly.’ His voice was ragged, his smile a little crooked. ‘If you’re going to make love to a woman before dinner, it’s wise to cook it yourself.’

When he was certain that she could stand, he moved unhurriedly across the room and opened the door. A young waiter from the hotel smiled at her and began to serve their meal. Joshua held a chair for her and she sank into it gratefully, hardly able to support herself.

‘This looks wonderful,’ she said, when she had regained sufficient control of her vocal cords to speak. Her fork fell through the pastry and she gratefully used the food to avoid eye contact, although she didn’t taste a thing. He had as good as admitted that he had intended to seduce her and she had been more than happy to help him.

Joshua himself made no attempt to draw her into conversation. He, too, seemed reluctant to break the silence.

The waiter returned after a short while to clear their plates and serve the trout. She sipped nervously at the wine, keeping her eyes focused on the distant view.

After the waiter had gone, Holly picked up her fork, but then she realised that Joshua hadn’t moved, was sitting perfectly still watching her.

She reluctantly forced herself to meet his eyes. ‘What is it?’

‘You won’t do that again unless you mean it, will you, Holly? It’s liable to get you into trouble.’

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and something more. Anger, too. There was a dangerous sparkle in her eyes as she said, ‘I think I can safely promise that. If you will do the same.’

The split-second flash of surprise that crossed his face gave her a small measure of satisfaction. But when he replied his voice was devoid of emotion.

‘You have my assurance, Holly, that the next time I kiss you you’ll be left in no doubt of my meaning.’ He picked up a fork and gestured with it. ‘Now eat your food; it’s getting cold.’ She did as she was bid, hardly able to take in what he was saying as he crisply explained that he had arranged temporary insurance for her to drive Mary’s car. ‘They’ll send a form for you to sign in a day or two. I swore you’d never had an accident,’ he said and looked up. ‘I hope I’m right.’

She suddenly realised that he was expecting some response. ‘I’ve never had an accident, although it would be difficult to tell from the state of my car. It’s held together by rust and willpower.’

‘In that case you might find this one rather exciting.’ He looked thoughtful, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. ‘Perhaps you should trade it in for something a little less exacting.’

She bristled. She might not have had a great deal of experience driving, but she was perfectly competent. ‘I think I should be the judge of that.’

He shook his head. ‘Do you always do the opposite of what you’re advised?’

‘It depends upon the advice,’ she retorted swiftly.

‘Then in future I’ll be extremely cautious about offering any, but if you need any help just give me a call.’

‘I thought you’d be rushing back to London.’

‘Not for a day or two. I’ve a few things to clear up here.’

There it was again, the sharp jab of suspicion. He had seen through her stupid attempt at sophisticated flirtation and crushed it without raising a sweat. In fact, he was too clever by half. But she had a good idea what he was planning to ‘clear up’ and she had every intention of thwarting him.

‘Would you like something else?’ he said, interrupting the flow of her thoughts.

She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. That was delicious.’

‘Any time,’ he said, casually.

‘No. Next time it must be my treat. I’ll ask you to Highfield for a meal as soon as I’ve found out how everything works.’ Reminding him that she would stay for as long as she wished. ‘Although I can’t pretend to compete with this sort of food.’

If she hoped to needle him, she did not succeed.

‘I look forward to it. Coffee, then, and a brandy?’ He smiled. ‘No, I remember, you don’t like brandy. Come and have a look in the cupboard. There must be something you’d like.’

‘No.’ She made a move to leave. She needed to get away from Joshua Kent, get herself back on an even keel. When he was in the same room she found it difficult to think straight. ‘Thank you for a lovely meal, but I must go.’

‘Must you?’ She was certain he was teasing her now.

‘It’s been a long day.’

‘Then I’ll take you home.’

‘There’s no need to bother yourself, Joshua. Your chauffeur is quite up to the task.’

‘My chauffeur has gone home to his wife. Besides, I reserve the pleasure of driving beautiful young women home for myself.’

He held the tiny jacket for her and managed somehow, without touching her at all, to make her feel as if she was being stroked. Or maybe, she thought, it was all in her head. Maybe she just wanted to be stroked by him. If that was the case, he had won the first round by a country mile and she should retreat while she could. And surrender? Offer him such an easy a victory? She owed it to Mary to find out just what was going on.

Fifteen minutes later the car drew up outside the long, low house and Joshua escorted her to the door and unlocked it for her. ‘Thank you, Joshua.’

‘I’d ask you what you were thanking me for, if I were sure you knew.’ He stepped back. ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow to organise a time to get the probate papers signed.’

‘Fine, but don’t leave it too late. I have some shopping to do.’ He raised his hand and turned away. ‘Joshua!’ He turned back.

‘Yes?’

She stretched out her hand. ‘I think those are my keys.’

He looked down at the bunch of keys in his hand. ‘So they are. Force of habit.’ He put the keys into the palm of her hand, wrapped her fingers around them and held them there for a moment. ‘Keep them safe.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘You can be quite sure of that.’

She thought for a moment that he was going to say something else, but instead he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the fingertips where they curled protectively over the keys.

‘Goodnight, Holly. Sleep well.’

* * *

The sound of the telephone dragged her from sleep. She groped for the phone, confirmed in her belief that they were a curse on mankind.

‘Hello?’ she mumbled.

‘You said to call you early.’ The laughter in his voice was an added insult. She opened her eyes sufficiently to look at her watch and groaned.

‘Beast!’ she said.

‘If you don’t get up right now you’re going to miss the sun. There’s rain moving in.’

‘If I need a weather forecast I’ll look at a piece of seaweed, thanks all the same.’

‘How do you think I get my information? Did you sleep well?’

‘
I
was sleeping very well, thank you. What was
your
problem?’

‘No problem at all, I’m going fishing but before you turn over and go back to sleep, will you make a note to meet me at eleven-thirty this morning in Marcus Lynton’s office? It’s in the square, opposite the bank. You can’t miss it.’

Suddenly wide awake, she sat up, determined to let him know how things stood. ‘Joshua, about the house—’

‘Sorry, sweetheart, we’ll have to leave that for a few days. You’ve caused a bit of a stir with your enquiry about reparation to the Foundation. I did warn you.’

‘So you did,’ she said. ‘Silly me.’ She stuffed the corner of the quilt in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

‘You said it. See you later.’

‘Goodbye, Joshua. Enjoy your fishing.’ She dropped the receiver back on to the cradle and threw back the bedclothes, so thoroughly wide awake now that there was no point in staying in bed.

Whether it had been Joshua’s instruction to sleep well, or the sound of the sea lulling her to sleep. Holly felt wonderful.

She pulled back the curtains and the approaching rain did nothing to dampen her spirits. She showered and dressed in jeans and a soft cream shirt and discovered to her delight that the milkman had been and left a small carton of groceries. Everything she would need for breakfast. And she had no doubt who had asked him to call. She offered up a silent thank-you to Joshua, the temporary halt to the sale putting him back in her good books.

But breakfast could wait. She made her way across the courtyard to a block of outbuildings that contained the garage.

She opened the door and stood for a moment in silent wonder as she took in the sleek black lines of a Porsche. Not new. Nowhere near new. But it had been cherished and it was love at first sight.

She sat in the driving seat and soaked in the atmosphere of the car. The smell of old leather, the feel of the wheel, the stubby gearstick under her hands. She slid the key into the ignition and, her heart pounding, she fired the engine.

There was the most glorious, throaty purr and, almost laughing out loud for the sheer pleasure of it, she put the car into reverse and backed it out through the garage doors.

An hour later, she and the car were firm friends. She had driven around the yard for a while, making sure of the controls, then along the lane that led out of Ashbrooke.

Finally, when she was sure of herself, she had taken the car on to the dual carriageway, quiet so early in the morning, and just enjoyed driving something so beautiful.

After breakfast she drove into the town to find Ashbrooke just opening its doors. She wandered around, looking at the shops, and found herself addressed by name wherever she went. Joshua had not exaggerated when he had said she was the object of local interest. No one actually asked her what her intentions were, but she sensed their curiosity and for the first time wondered what the local people would feel about caravans sprouting like a rash along the cliff top.

She drove home deep in thought, put away her groceries and then, with a sigh, decided that she couldn’t put off phoning David any longer.

She called his office and listened for a moment to his ironic thanks for letting him know where she was.

‘When are you coming home?’ he demanded. ‘You’ve a pile of mail a foot high.’

‘I’ll be here for a while. Can you send on anything that looks important?’

‘If you like,’ he said sulkily. ‘I suppose you’re with Kent?’

‘That’s really none of your business, David.’

‘He’ll hurt you, Holly. I’m warning you.’ Too late for that, she thought unhappily. ‘Not that there’s much in the papers these days. He’s a very private man.’

‘You’ve been making enquiries about him?’ she asked, shaken that David had taken her imagined defection so personally. She had never given him any encouragement. There was an awkward little silence. ‘David?’ she demanded.

‘When he turned up at the house I made it my business to make a few enquiries.’ She didn’t say anything. ‘There’s some old money, inherited wealth from his mother’s side of the family, but there’s a lot more of it these days. Mr Kent is very astute.’