CHAPTER THREE
LIBERTY rang Carter Blake at nine o’clock the next evening. She figured that was late enough to suggest she hadn’t been champing at the bit, even though the wretched man had been at the forefront of her mind all day. She couldn’t remember an occasion when she had had to check and recheck her work—she was normally utterly focused and concentrated—but the day had been a nightmare of errors and slip-ups, and all because of one grey-eyed man who wouldn’t stay in the box she had designated for him in her mind. And she hated that. She really hated it.
She rang the land-line number he had given her rather than the mobile, praying that an answering machine would cut in enabling her to parrot off her details without speaking to him. At least that was what she told herself she was praying for, refusing to acknowledge the curling excitement in the pit of her stomach at the thought of hearing that rich, deep voice again.
It was with something of an anticlimax, therefore, when the phone was picked up at the other end and a female voice said, ‘Jennifer Blake. Can I help you?’
His mother? But the voice sounded too young. His wife? No, he hadn’t had the look of a man who was married. And then she told herself not to be so ridiculous. Women the whole world over were fooled by men who didn’t look or behave as though they were married! As her work proved daily.
Liberty cleared her throat carefully. ‘This is Liberty Fox. I’m ringing to—’
‘Oh, yes, Carter told me you might ring. Hang on a mo, I’ll just call him.’
‘No, that’s not necessary. If you’ll—’ But she was talking to thin air. She could hear someone calling Carter in the background and her heart increased its rapid beat until she felt as though it was banging against her ribcage.
There was a few seconds pause, and then she heard a click which meant an extension had been picked up. ‘Liberty?’ The deep voice sent goose pimples all over her body. ‘I’ve been waiting for your call.’
She wrinkled her brow. What did that mean? Was it just a polite way of starting the conversation or did he mean he really had been waiting to hear from her again? It was safer to assume the former. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got those details you wanted, Mr Blake,’ she said formally.
‘Carter.’ It was pleasant but firm.
‘I beg your pardon?’ She hoped she didn’t sound fluttery.
‘You’ve caused some scratches on my immaculate paintwork,’ he drawled easily. ‘The least you can do is to come down off your high horse and call me by name.’
She opened her mouth to reply but then he added, ‘And you can put the phone down in the hall now, Jen.’ There was no answer to this but the phone was replaced with a definite click. ‘My sister,’ he said mockingly. ‘My very nosy sister.’
‘Oh, right.’ For some reason she wasn’t sure of why she hadn’t thought of siblings. He seemed such a one-off somehow.
‘Now, perhaps you can start off by giving me your telephone number and address?’ The smoky voice was suddenly brisk and matter-of-fact and it took her by surprise.
‘Yes, of course.’ She rattled off the information, but when she got to the insurance details he stopped her.
‘I don’t need your registration number or insurance company, Liberty,’ he said quietly. ‘Not for a dinner date.’
Her heart gave up trying to escape through her chest and jumped up into her throat. ‘I…I don’t think…’ Her voice sounded as though she was choking. She coughed, telling herself to get a grip. ‘I thought we had agreed that wasn’t an option,’ she said firmly.
‘No. You made a very unkind supposition as to my motives for asking you out which I think I corrected in such a way as to clear the air,’ he returned pleasantly. ‘That being the case, I can see no reason why we can’t have an enjoyable evening in each other’s company.’
It sounded so reasonable. She frowned. So there had to be a catch somewhere. ‘I’m afraid I’m working hard at the moment,’ she said carefully, ‘so I’m not dating.’
‘With the normal, run of the mill man, maybe. But I’m different.’ It was supremely arrogant, and even when he qualified the outrageous statement with, ‘I’m different because you owe me, Liberty. You did cause the accident, remember? I might have been badly hurt,’ imperiousness was still paramount.
‘You weren’t.’ She suspected a ten ton truck would make no impact on Carter Blake, let alone her little car.
‘I said I might have been. Think what a shock it was to have a car suddenly leap out in front of me like that. A lesser man might have had a heart attack on the spot.’
Involuntarily she smiled, and then was thankful he couldn’t see his charm was working. No doubt he always had women falling down like ninepins with one lift of his eyebrows! She schooled her voice to hide any amusement as she said, ‘You didn’t have a heart attack and the only thing that was hurt was my car—with a few scratches on yours which I’ve already said I’ll pay for,’ she added quickly.
‘I don’t want you to pay. I want you to have dinner with me.’
She put a hand to her brow. If she related this conversation to anyone else they would think she was stark staring mad not to snap his hand off. Repairs to a Mercedes’ paintwork wouldn’t be cheap, she hadn’t fooled herself about that, but…She swallowed hard. He clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer; that was the bottom line. She might just as well agree to see him once and then that would be that. ‘All right, I’ll have dinner with you,’ she said a touch ungraciously.
He didn’t comment on her churlishness. ‘Good.’ There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice. ‘Tomorrow being Saturday you’ll have all day to get ready.’
‘Hang on, I didn’t say I was free tomorrow,’ she protested immediately. How dared he assume she was at his beck and call?
‘Are you?’ he enquired pleasantly.
‘Yes, as it happens, but I might not have been,’ she said, knowing she sounded unnecessarily belligerent.
‘You said you weren’t dating at the moment.’ His voice was insultingly patient, as though he was talking to a recalcitrant child. ‘That being the case, I assumed the most important thing you might have on was washing your hair.’
‘I also said I was working hard,’ she pointed out tartly. ‘I might have had a schedule I couldn’t change.’
‘You’d still have to eat some time,’ he said reasonably.
She gave up. She had the feeling that Carter Blake always won an argument and maybe it was better to get it over and done with.
He’d assumed victory because he carried on with barely a pause. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven, okay? And you needn’t dress up too much. The restaurant I’m taking you to is smart casual with the emphasis on excellent food.’
‘Right.’ She’d assumed they would be dining at the Phoenix but he’d obviously got something else in mind. She hesitated a moment before saying, ‘Thank you.’ It was grudging.
‘My pleasure,’ Carter replied, his voice holding only the faintest trace of amusement. ‘Goodnight, Liberty.’
‘Goodnight.’ She put down the telephone in something of a daze and sat staring at it for a full minute before she could persuade herself to move. And not for the world would she have admitted to herself that she’d known all along that Carter would get his way and that, moreover, she had wanted him to.
Her mind had still been buzzing when she went to bed, but contrary to what she’d expected Liberty awoke the next morning after a deep, satisfying sleep. She lay for some minutes in the warmth of her double bed, gazing across the room at the picture she had bought when she’d first moved into the house. She had seen it in a little art gallery round the corner from the office and had fallen in love with it immediately, knowing she had to have it even though it had been wildly expensive at a time when she was watching every penny.
The snowy garden depicted was beautifully painted, the setting sun turning the snow rosy pink in parts, but it was the two figures to the forefront of the picture which always brought an aching warmth into her chest. The mother was kneeling in the snow with her arms wide open to receive the laughing little girl running to meet her, the snowman the child had been working on watching with a benevolent smile on his white face.
She didn’t know why she loved it so much because it always made her want to cry, but maybe it was the love shining out of the woman’s face that gripped her heart each time she looked at the picture. Whatever, she’d known she had to have it, and when she had shown it to her father the first night she had cooked him dinner in her new home and he’d said, ‘Laying a few ghosts, eh, sweetheart?’ it had bothered her for days.
She would never have children. She continued to stare at the picture as her eyes clouded. Much as she longed to be a mother one day, she would never trust herself or any children to one man. Marriage, commitment, faithfulness, they just didn’t work in the real world, and all children should have two parents who were devoted to them and who loved each other too. A couple of her friends who were disillusioned with men had made the decision to become single mothers, but that wasn’t for her either. She had been brought up by a single parent—her father—and she knew he would be the first to say it was not ideal.
But she would make a good life for herself—she was making a good life for herself. She twisted in the bed, suddenly irritated with the way her thoughts had gone. She had her home and a great job, and she intended to develop her career and take it as far as she could. In a few years junior partner, and eventually rising right up the ladder. The declaration didn’t hold the same thrill it usually did.
‘Coffee.’ She spoke out loud, flinging back the covers and leaping out of bed. ‘Coffee and toast and a long read of the paper.’ A leisurely start to the day was her weekend treat to herself after the mad scramble of Monday to Friday.
She was on her second cup of coffee, curled up on one of the sofas in the sitting room, when the telephone rang at her elbow. She lifted the receiver automatically, still reading.
‘Liberty?’ The deep, rich voice brought her jerking upwards with dire consequences. It was fortunate the coffee had had a chance to cool down a little because most of it ended up in her lap. ‘It’s Carter.’
He’d reconsidered. He was going to cancel their date and she really couldn’t blame him, she thought feverishly, mopping at her silk pyjamas with a handkerchief she’d had in her pocket. It was a moment or two before she managed a breathless, ‘Yes?’
There followed a longish pause. ‘Are you alone?’ he asked abruptly, his voice a shade cooler.
‘What?’ She stared at the phone in surprise.
‘I said, are you alone?’ he repeated impatiently.
‘It’s nine o’clock in the morning,’ she said bewilderedly. ‘Of course I’m alone.’
‘You sound…different.’
So would you if you’d had half a cup of coffee in a sensitive place. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve only just woken up,’ she said, stretching a point. There was no way she was going to tell him about the coffee. And then, as the implication behind his words dawned, she snapped, ‘And what do you mean by asking me if I’m alone anyway? Who on earth did you think was here?’
She could almost picture him shrug as he said mildly, ‘I’ve no idea, Liberty. You’re a single woman; you’re entitled to have anyone in your home.’
‘Look, Carter, let’s get one thing straight,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m not into one-night stands or anything else of that nature if it comes to that. I sleep alone, okay? Always.’
‘Always?’
‘Always.’ She could almost see the disbelief on his face.
‘Right.’ The briefest of pauses and then, ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said flatly.
He didn’t actually sound very pleased. Suddenly she felt better. Put a spoke into his plans for this evening, had she? What a shame. Was he getting a glimmer that the big seduction scene wouldn’t cut any ice with her? ‘So? Why are you calling?’ she asked forthrightly. ‘Remembered you’re busy elsewhere tonight? Urgent business of some kind, is it?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said without finesse.
Liberty blinked. Charming.
‘And don’t be so defensive,’ he added more softly.
‘I’m not defensive,’ she said defensively before biting her lip hard. Irritating man. Always had to be right.
‘I’m ringing to see if you’re free this afternoon as well as this evening, actually,’ he went on. ‘And, before you come up with a whole lot of excuses, I’ve suddenly acquired two tickets for a matinée in the West End.’
He mentioned a show she had been dying to see for ages but which was booked solid for months, and Liberty stared at the phone as though it was at fault. It would have to be something she just couldn’t refuse, wouldn’t it. ‘That sounds nice,’ she said carefully. ‘If you’re sure you don’t want to take someone else.’
‘Don’t get too excited.’ It was mordant. ‘I’ll pick you up at one o’clock.’
He didn’t even give her a chance to say goodbye before he put the phone down.
She changed three times before one o’clock, but when the doorbell sounded and she gave a final glance in the mirror she was satisfied the alpaca tweed coat worn over a cashmere ivory polo-neck minidress would do for both the theatre and the restaurant later. And the dress had always particularly suited her.
She was wearing the minimum of make-up, just a dusting of ivory eyeshadow to highlight her eyes and a little mascara, and she had decided to pull her hair back into a knot on top of her head. It was a somewhat severe hairstyle for the weekend but somehow she felt it sent a message after their earlier conversation, a re-emphasis that she was not up for grabs. She wrinkled her nose at herself. If he could have women like Carmen on his arm she really didn’t know why he was bothering with her in the first place. Perhaps his intentions were strictly honourable and above board, but just in case…
‘Hi.’ He presented her with a bunch of flowers as she opened the door, bending closer to her, and she smelled the faint scent of sharp lemony aftershave. It was a very male smell and frighteningly seductive. The big body was clothed in charcoal trousers and a black leather jacket and was even more seductive. She tried very hard not to think about that.
‘Hello.’ She took the flowers and then realised they meant she had to ask him in. ‘Take a seat for a moment while I put these in water, and—’ belatedly she remembered her manners ‘—thank you,’ she added a little stiffly.
He looked all shoulders and muscle and endless legs, and he grinned at her. She had noticed before how his smile mellowed the hard planes and valleys of his strong face, and his voice was smokier than ever when he said, ‘My pleasure,’ before glancing around. ‘This is nice,’ he said appreciatively. ‘Have you lived here long?’
‘Not really.’ Ridiculous, but she found she didn’t want to share any details of her life. He had already made inroads into her safe little world as it was. ‘Do take a seat.’
She hurried down to the kitchen, grabbing the first vase that came to hand and stuffing the fragrant bunch of freesias, cream roses and baby’s breath into it with scant regard for display. She fairly leapt up the stairs to the sitting room, plonking the vase down on the coffee table in the middle of the room as she said, ‘They’re lovely but you shouldn’t have. Shall we go? We don’t want to be late.’
He looked a little startled at her eagerness but strolled across to the door, opening it for her and then standing aside as she passed him. Her shoulder brushed against him as she exited the house, and she felt the brief contact down to her toes. She had hoped he hadn’t noticed the little start she gave, but as he joined her on the top of the steps and watched as she shut the front door, he said, ‘Relax, Liberty, for crying out loud. You’re like a cat on a hot tin roof. You’re not still worrying I’m going to demand payment for those scratches to my Merc in the age-old way, are you?’
She flushed hotly, turning to face him after locking the door and slipping the keys into her handbag. ‘Of course not,’ she said with what she hoped was scathing contempt.
‘Good,’ he said, his stone-grey eyes running over her pink face. Where had she been all her life that she could blush at such a relatively innocuous remark? He knew a great many women who wouldn’t blush at the most explicit bawdiness. Where did she hide herself away during the day? A library, perhaps? Yes, he could see her as a demure librarian when she had her hair this way. Or working with young children in a nursery maybe. Or even a dusty little bookshop somewhere? ‘What do you do?’ he asked abruptly as they descended the steps together. ‘For your job, I mean.’
‘I’m a solicitor,’ she said expressionlessly. ‘I specialise in civil litigation and crime at the moment.’
He stopped dead on the pavement.
‘What?’ She stared up at him. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘You’re a woman full of surprises, Liberty Fox,’ he said softly, reaching out and loosening the slides holding her hair as he spoke. ‘As I’m beginning to find out.’
‘Don’t.’ As she felt her hair fall down about her shoulders she tried to retrieve the slides, but he merely pocketed them, a strange look on his face.
‘I’d like those back please,’ she said firmly.
‘Don’t hide your light under a bushel,’ he said shortly.
She cleared her suddenly dry throat. Something in his eyes made her short of breath. She decided to forget about the slides.
A cab was waiting at the kerb and after Carter had given the name of the theatre he opened the door and helped her in, sitting down beside her a moment later. His long legs were stretched out in front of him and he looked supremely relaxed. She bitterly resented his composure considering she felt a bundle of nerves.
‘Now.’ He took her arm and tucked it in his as though they had known each other for months. ‘Tell me a bit about yourself,’ he said easily, his voice warm.
She was too shocked at first to remove her arm and then, when the butterflies had settled a little, it seemed too late so she left it where it was. ‘There’s nothing much to tell,’ she prevaricated warily. ‘Just the usual boring stuff.’
‘Somehow I doubt that.’ The eyebrows quirked a little.
Well, it was the truth. Did he think she had a torrid past or some major catastrophe she had fought to triumph over? She glanced at him, her eyes focusing on his mouth, which was firm and faintly stern. It was a strong mouth, hard. It would kiss wonderfully…She went a little hot, whether because of her thoughts or the feel of his thigh next to hers she wasn’t sure. ‘I assure you I’m very run of the mill,’ she said carefully. ‘Thirty years old, love my job, love my home—’
‘Ever been married?’ he asked casually.
‘Married?’ She stared at him in amazement. ‘Of course not.’ How old did she look, for goodness’ sake?
‘There’s no of course about it,’ he said easily. ‘I know loads of women who have been married and divorced by your age, my sister for one.’
Liberty didn’t quite know what to say to that, but as she was becoming more acquainted with his body with every tiny bump and jerk the cab gave it was the least of her worries.
Carter smiled faintly to himself. He had sensed the tenseness she was trying to hide along with the reason for it, and found it reassuring that she was at least aware of him as a man. For a time he had wondered if she was unaffected by him, but now he did not think so. For himself, he was surprised just how much he wanted her. It had been years since he’d ached with a combination of lust and uncertainty—since his first girlfriend, in fact, when he had been a callow seventeen years of age—but something about this russet-haired woman had had him tossing and turning all night.
‘So,’ he said lazily, shifting in the seat slightly just to feel her softness, ‘not married then. Ever come close?’
She wished this cab ride would end. She felt as though she was beginning to melt. ‘I thought so, not so long ago actually, but it would have been a huge mistake.’
‘Oh, yes?’ His voice didn’t betray the interest which had gripped him. ‘The guy in question didn’t measure up?’
‘He wasn’t what he portrayed himself to be,’ she said briefly, adding, when he said nothing, ‘certainly not in the fidelity stakes anyway and that’s something that’s set in concrete with me.’
He nodded but did not pursue the subject, for which she was grateful, beginning instead to chat about the forthcoming show and how he had acquired the tickets from a friend who had had to go abroad on business unexpectedly.
Gradually Liberty relaxed a little. She even found herself smiling once or twice as he set out to amuse her, and by the time they arrived at the theatre she was in the process of reviewing her opinion of him. True, he was too arrogant for comfort, and whatever he said she suspected his ultimate purpose was more than a goodnight kiss, but she could handle those things.
As he helped her out of the cab with the old-fashioned courtesy which was so unexpectedly attractive, she smiled her thanks, watching him as he paid the driver. He was funny and witty and charming, and—much as she hated to admit it—it was delicious to be with a man who was so unapologetically male.
Gerard had been good-looking but in a boyish way, and he hadn’t had Carter’s—she searched her mind for the right word to describe his appeal—authority, a certain something which was extra to his sex appeal and just as powerfully compelling.
Their seats at the theatre were excellent and the show was great, although in the interval when Liberty found herself pressed a mite too close to Carter in the crush at the bar, she couldn’t help but colour up. He didn’t appear to notice her agitation, chatting unconcernedly with a coolness she could only envy as her breathing floundered every so often.
The restaurant was only a couple of streets away from the theatre, and when they emerged into a crisp October evening which even the city fumes couldn’t spoil and Carter suggested they walk, Liberty jumped at the idea after sitting down all afternoon.
‘Hungry?’ As he took her hand in his the action was easy and natural and self-assured, and didn’t necessitate the bolt of lightning which shot up her arm.
Liberty frowned to herself as they strolled along amid late-night shoppers. What was the matter with her, for goodness’ sake? She was a grown woman, not a nervous little schoolgirl out on her first date. The thing was, she didn’t want him to think…The frown deepened. What didn’t she want him to think? That he was on to a good thing?
She caught sight of her reflection in a shop window and hastily straightened her face before Carter saw her knitted brow. He thought she was crazy enough already.
But he hadn’t made a pass at her, she reasoned silently, or given her any reason to think he was going to come on strong in a way which would be offensive. She’d had the odd date in the past who had tried it on and she had more than coped anyway. But then she had always known she was in control with those guys, able to put them in their place with the biting sarcasm she could produce as a defence when necessary. Carter wasn’t like that. Perhaps that was why she was so jittery?
Or perhaps it was because she was longing for him to kiss her, to see how it would be? The little voice at the back of her mind shocked her but she couldn’t deny it. He fascinated her. She didn’t want him to, but he was just so, so…She gave up trying to find a word to describe him because they were approaching the restaurant.
‘Here we are.’ He paused just before the entrance, smiling down at her with unfathomable eyes. ‘I hope you enjoy it here. The owner’s a friend of mine, and the old adage “to be an especially good cook you have to sprinkle love and passion into your food” certainly applies in Adam’s case. He doesn’t go in for pomp or ceremony but everything he makes tastes terrific.’
She was staring up at him as she listened, and when he suddenly bent, skimming her mouth with his lips, it was all over before she had a chance to react. He had opened the door of the restaurant in the next moment anyway, and all she could do was to step forward when he stood aside for her to enter.
His mouth had been firm and warm and the brief contact had been pleasant, very pleasant. As a tall, dark man came hurrying towards them, all Liberty could think about was what it would be like if they had been somewhere quiet and secluded and he had really meant business. She pulled herself together fast and forced her errant thoughts into order as the man in front of her grinned at Carter. ‘Carter, you old reprobate,’ he said jovially, reaching out and taking one of Carter’s hands in both of his. ‘You always know when griddled lamb chump is on the menu.’ And then the dark eyes turned to Liberty. ‘I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure…’ he added smoothly, bowing slightly.
‘Cut the charm, Adam,’ Carter said amusedly. ‘It doesn’t work with Liberty. I should know; I’ve tried hard enough.’ He turned smiling eyes on her. ‘Liberty Fox meet Adam Temple—scoundrel, miscreant and all round Lothario, but a chef second to none.’
Adam didn’t seem the least put out by the introduction. ‘Liberty will make up her own mind about me, won’t you, Liberty?’ he said softly, bending from the waist and kissing her hand in a Latin gesture which went with the coal-black hair and dark eyes which danced wickedly as they met her amused ones.
‘I always do.’ She smiled at both men, glad the little scene had given her time to get her fluttering nerves under control.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Adam straightened, nodding his head towards Carter. ‘Fathomed him yet?’
‘She hasn’t had time,’ Carter cut in evenly. ‘We only met two days ago. Now, about that table, Adam.’
Adam took the hint and smilingly showed them to the back of the restaurant where a small alcove seated a cosy table for two in a position where one could see but not be seen. There was a small candle alight in the middle of the table and the crisp white cloth and napkins were of fine linen, but the overall ambience of the place was very different from the plush luxury of the Phoenix.
Adam having disappeared back into the kitchens, the waiter appeared with the wine list and menu, along with a tray holding two cocktails. ‘With the compliments of Mr Temple, sir,’ he said to Carter, placing the drinks in front of them with some ceremony. ‘I’ll leave you for a few moments to read and digest and then I’ll come back for your order.’
When they were alone again, Carter lifted his glass in a toast. ‘To getting to know each other better,’ he said, and he did not smile, his eyes tight on her face.
Liberty stared at him. She didn’t want to get to know Carter better, and yet on the other hand there was nothing she wanted more. Which made her…crazy. Yes, definitely crazy. She raised her own glass. ‘To this evening.’ It was sufficiently bland to pass for agreement to his toast, and yet at the same time a statement of limited intent.
She saw the hard mouth twitch but decided to ignore his amusement. ‘This is delicious,’ she added as she tasted the drink. ‘What is it?’
‘A Vodkatini. No one does them quite like Adam’s man. Most places try to rush the process and that’s fatal.’
When Liberty lifted enquiring eyebrows, he continued, ‘First one fills a mixing glass with ice and then stirs with a spoon until the glass is chilled. Then tip the ice away, top up with more ice and add a dash or two of dry vermouth whilst still stirring. With me so far?’
His voice was smoky and she blinked. The little table was intimate, how intimate she hadn’t realised till now when he bent forward, his eyes stroking her flushed face. ‘After that one strains the liquid away and tops up with more ice. Add a large measure of vodka and stir continuously until the vodka is thoroughly chilled. Very importantly, don’t chip the ice or the vodka will become diluted. One needs an experienced but tender touch, a subtle caressing of the *******s.’
She blinked again. How could he make it sound so sexy?
‘Then strain into a frosted martini glass and garnish with lemon zest, and hey presto, a delicious, slightly decadent and innocently lethal drink.’ He smiled slowly.
He relaxed back fully into his seat and she felt as though she had been released from something which had held her mind and body in a sensuous warmth.
‘I’ve seen folk downing Vodkatinis like lemonade and then suffering the consequences,’ he added conversationally.
Folk? Did that translate into women? His women? Did he bring many other women here? Liberty didn’t like the way her mind was firing questions and picked up her menu, opening it and running her eyes over the *******s. ‘There’s a wonderful choice,’ she said evenly, determined to bring things to order.
‘I can particularly recommend the almond and saffron soup with pimenton roast tomatoes and, of course, the griddle lamb chump with butter beans and apple allioli,’ Carter said lazily, draining his glass before he said, ‘If we go for that there’s a nice Californian merlot that’s rich and dark and spicy. If you like red wine, that is.’
‘Your favourites, I take it?’ she asked coolly.
‘Just so.’
‘They sound fine by me.’ She put down her menu.
Dark eyebrows rose just the slightest. ‘Careful,’ he said mildly. ‘You’ll fool me into thinking you’re a nice submissive female after all.’
Liberty sent him a quick but lethal glance just as the waiter approached.
When the food came it was truly superb. The soup was the kind of stuff dreams were made of, and the lamb melted in the mouth. The creamy coffee and praline gateau Liberty chose for dessert was so light it fairly floated into her mouth, layers of mascarpone and coffee filling topped with shards of crunchy praline giving the cake a taste that was heavenly.
In spite of her enjoyment of the excellent dishes, however, Liberty knew her taste buds weren’t giving full homage to the food. She was too jittery, too wound up. Admittedly, Carter was an interesting and amusing companion, the easy charm and wit beguiling, but that was just it. She’d had her fill of men who were sophisticated and smooth and slick. Gerard had mastered all those attributes and look where that had got her. But whereas Gerard had really been a tinsel and glitter socialite, she sensed there was much, much more to Carter. There was a vital, almost dangerous energy about him which both repelled and attracted her, the more so when it was under rein like now. But was she playing with fire here? What was the inner man really like?
As she swallowed the last morsel of the gateau she shivered suddenly, although she couldn’t have said why. Nerves, she supposed.
Adam came over again as they were savouring coffee and brandies, pulling up a chair and sitting with them for a short while. He and Carter engaged in an amusing, sharp and quick-fire banter which emphasised the fact they had known each other for a long time, and which had Liberty laughing helplessly more than once. She found she liked the other man very much.
When the restaurant owner left them again, kissing her hand in farewell as he made an extravagant compliment about her appearance, Liberty said quietly, ‘How long have you known him? You’re clearly very good friends.’
‘Adam? We grew up together, he and his sister and myself and Jen. It was a pretty rough housing estate on the outskirts of London, the sort of place where kids either go into crime and drugs or fight to make it in a big way. No happy mediums.’
‘And you made it.’
‘That we did.’ Carter nodded slowly but there was no arrogance in the gesture. ‘Three of us at least. Barbara, Adam’s sister, died last year of a drug overdose. We all thought she had been clean for years and maybe she was, but sometimes the pull is too great. She and Adam didn’t have the big advantage Jen and I had, that’s the thing.’
‘Which was?’ she asked curiously, fascinated by the story.
‘Good parents and a secure family life.’
Liberty’s eyes widened. He was full of surprises. ‘Are they still living there—your parents, I mean?’
He shook his head. ‘Once I could afford it I took them out of it. They’re in a bungalow by the coast now; they both love the sea and they’ve always got some friends or other visiting.’
The warmth in his voice as he spoke about his parents touched her far more than she would have liked. ‘But your sister lives with you?’ she said quietly.
‘Temporarily. It was a tough divorce and she took it hard. She’s having a breathing space before she looks for a place of her own.’ He paused, his voice hardening as he said, ‘Everyone could see he was less than the dust under her feet except Jen. The guy was looking for an easy meal ticket and thought by marrying into the Blake name he’d made it. The crunch came when she found out he was messing around with other women. He lived to regret it.’
Liberty stared into the uncompromisingly tough face. She could be wrong but she had the idea that he meant more by that last remark than the fact that his brother-in-law—ex-brother-in-law—had lost his wife. ‘Your sister doesn’t see him any more then?’
He smiled a smile that had all the warmth of a frozen lake. ‘No, she doesn’t see him any more,’ he said softly. ‘The guy values his kneecaps so he keeps away. No doubt he’ll latch on to some other gullible female when the dust settles.’
Liberty thought it prudent not to voice the thought that this man must have had a certain amount of guts—or be stark staring crazy—to think he could mess with Carter Blake’s sister in the first place. She nodded; it was easier than having to think of a suitable comment.
‘And you?’ He smiled a real smile this time that made her stomach roll over. ‘We’ve established you’re footloose and fancy-free, and I gathered from the other night your parents are not together.’
She really couldn’t refuse to discuss her family when she had questioned him about his. She wasn’t aware she had stiffened a little but Carter, watching her with intent eyes, was. And he waited with interest to hear what she had to say.
‘No, they’re not.’ It was too succinct and she forced herself to go on. ‘They divorced when I was quite young. My…my mother went off with someone else and left my father and I. That was several husbands ago now,’ she added, trying for a lightness which didn’t quite come off.
Carter expelled a quiet breath. He knew of women—his own secretary for one—who would have given everything they possessed for a child of their own and yet they’d been told it was not possible, whereas others who couldn’t care a fig had them as easily as falling off a log. Nature played the cruellest of all her tricks in this area.
Her tight face and wary eyes warned him not to continue, but his curiosity about this pale-skinned, russet-haired woman was too strong. ‘Tough start,’ he said evenly, allowing only a smidgen of sympathy to show in his voice. ‘Did you get on with your father?’
‘He’s a wonderful man and I didn’t miss out on a thing,’ she said proudly, her chin rising. ‘Not a thing.’
That wasn’t what he had asked. His eyes narrowed. ‘Any brothers or sisters?’ he asked expressionlessly.
She shook her head, causing the veil of reddish-brown to shimmer and move in the light of the candle. His lower stomach tightened and he felt himself harden.
‘My mother isn’t a maternal woman,’ she said carefully, stating the obvious, ‘and my father’s a GP and was always too busy with his job and caring for me to meet someone else. Until now,’ she added after a brief pause. ‘Now he has someone.’
‘The lady in the restaurant?’
She nodded but didn’t expand further.
‘So how has all that made you feel about love, marriage, family life?’ he asked coolly. ‘Envious or cynical?’
She couldn’t believe he’d asked her such a personal question when she hadn’t known him for two minutes, and yet she wasn’t altogether surprised either. Straight for the jugular. That would be Carter Blake all over, at work and at play.
She finished the last of her now cold coffee before she replied, replacing the cup in the saucer with deliberate coolness before she looked into the male face. ‘It’s fine for people who want it,’ she said grimly. ‘Who think they need it.’
‘Meaning you don’t?’ he asked very softly.
She was struggling here but she was blowed if she’d let him see. She shrugged slender shoulders, very aware of the granite eyes fixed on her face as she said, ‘Meaning I don’t think it is a viable proposition for two people to remain faithful to each other for life and, unless it is, I don’t think it’s fair to bring children into the relationship.’
For thirty-six years Carter had believed himself to be an autonomous being who worked and played better when there was no question of emotional attachment. He had never really questioned whether he believed in marriage; his parents had been happily wrapped up in each other for nearly forty years despite illness, poverty and everything else life had flung against them in the early days, so he guessed he believed in the concept at least, but he’d always known it was not for him.
From his earliest memory he had been determined to get out of the grime and muck and make something of himself, to rise high, and he’d accepted that to do that he had to be utterly focused. When he’d made his first million he had decided he actually liked the lack of emotional clutter in his life, and that from being a necessity to achieve his goals it was now a free choice.
To be able to take off at a minute’s notice, to be answerable to no one with no ties and commitments—he enjoyed that. He really enjoyed it. So why, that being the case, should he now have the desire to argue against every principle he’d lived his life by to date? he asked himself irritably. Nevertheless, he found himself saying, ‘So you’ve come down on the side of cynicism rather than envy. Right?’
She didn’t argue with him. ‘Probably,’ she agreed shortly. ‘But you asked me how I felt.’
She was right, he had. ‘You’re saying you would voluntarily choose a solitary lifestyle?’ Well you have, the voice outside himself pointed out sharply, and when he answered it with, But I’m a man, that’s different, he felt instantly appalled at himself. Both in his work life and his love life he had always held to the view that women were equal with men in every way, and it was galling to discover he was as male chauvinist at heart as the next man. More than galling.
Liberty brushed back her hair with a steady hand, annoyed at the covert criticism she’d caught in his tone but determined to remain outwardly unmoved. ‘I’m saying unless two people are absolutely sure their relationship is for life, children shouldn’t be brought into it, that’s all,’ she reiterated firmly. ‘My personal opinion, okay? Everyone is entitled to one.’
He had been right back there at the Phoenix; her mother had damaged her all right. ‘My parents have been happily married for forty years.’ Even as he said it, he wondered why he had.
She obviously wondered the same thing. There was a slight pause and then she said, ‘Good. That’s very nice for them.’
He settled back in his seat, the harsh angles of his face mellowing as he grinned at her. ‘Actually, I agree with you,’ he said mildly. ‘They probably make up about two per cent of the population and the rest are as miserable as hell.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she protested.
‘But you thought it.’ The eyebrows rose mockingly.
Yes, she had, along with the fact that he seemed the sort of man who would be married to his business all his life with no time or patience for a wife and children. Lovers, now that was different. She was sure he would always find time to indulge his physical needs and, like everything else in his life, he would make sure he did it expertly and with finesse. She suddenly felt uncomfortably warm and her voice was slightly breathless when she said, ‘We’ve found something we agree about then?’
‘So it would seem.’ It was laconic, but as the waiter chose that moment to bring the bill the moment passed without further comment.
It had turned much colder by the time they left the restaurant, the English weather as mercurial as always. Frost was already coating the pavements as Carter helped her into the cab he had ordered before they’d left the warm womb of the building, and she shivered as he joined her on the back seat. ‘Cold?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, putting his arm round her and pulling her into him and almost immediately his mouth closed over hers.
The kiss was everything she had hoped it would be. Desire stirred deep in her belly and rippled outwards, burning her skin and causing frissons of pleasure that had her clenching every muscle in an effort to stop herself trembling.
‘What’s the matter?’ He must have sensed her reaction because the dark head raised and she looked into glittering eyes. ‘Relax, damn it. I’m not about to take you in the back of a taxi.’
How dared he? She sat upright with a sharp jerk, her face blazing. ‘Believe me, Carter, you wouldn’t get the chance,’ she bit out furiously. ‘I don’t know what sort of women you’re used to wining and dining, but it would take more than a good meal and a bottle of wine to get me into bed.’
‘Really?’ He looked amused and unperturbed by her rage, folding his arms and surveying her with expressionless eyes. ‘What would it take then?’
‘More than you’ve got,’ she shot back nastily.
‘Is that a challenge?’ he asked silkily.
She wasn’t fooled by the lazy tone; she’d seen the grey eyes turn to hard stone. ‘It’s a statement.’
‘A statement,’ he repeated thoughtfully, raising his hand and stroking a lock of errant hair off her cheek. ‘You’re very flushed,’ he drawled slowly. ‘Warm and soft and deliciously pink.’
He made her sound like a marshmallow. She fought the weakening desire the smoky voice was bringing forth with the thought. She wasn’t going to fall for this; she was not.
‘And kissable.’ The gleam in his eyes darkened as he drew nearer and once again she was held in his embrace, but this time the kiss deepened immediately to a determined seduction of her defences. Within a minute or two he had scaled every one. He was kissing her so thoroughly, so wonderfully, that resistance was the last thing on her mind as she kissed him back, her enthusiasm not quite hiding her lack of expertise.
By the time the cab drew into her street she was a quivering wreck, utterly lost in the smell and feel of him and the sensations he had called forth so powerfully.
When the cab stopped outside her house and Carter raised his head it took Liberty a full ten seconds to stir herself, and then she felt as though her legs wouldn’t hold her. ‘A statement.’ He murmured the words next to her mouth in the moment before he opened the cab door, and they were husky with the same desire which had gripped her. ‘Care to rethink it?’
It took a second or two, but then she felt as though a bucket of cold water had been thrown in her face. He had been playing with her just now, proving a point. She ignored his outstretched hand and struggled out of the cab by herself, her face flaming. Of all the rotten, low down, manipulating…
‘Careful.’ The smoky tones were definitely amused now as she nearly landed on her bottom when her foot slid on the frosty pavement. ‘We don’t want to spoil a wonderful evening, do we?’
Conscious of the taxi driver, Liberty bit back the hot words hovering on her tongue, jerking his hand away from her elbow as she said, ‘I can manage perfectly well, thank you. Goodnight, Carter, and thank you for a lovely meal.’
‘I’ll see you to your door,’ he said lazily.
‘There’s no need.’ She’d sooner be escorted by Dracula.
‘On the contrary, with those heels and this frost there is every need.’
She wasn’t going to prolong this farewell by arguing with him on the pavement. With as much dignity as she could muster, Liberty strode to the steps leading up to her front door, moderating her momentum when she found they were like sheets of glass. Once safely on her doorstep, she turned to Carter, who had paused on the step below. He was still taller than her, she realised, and much too close.
‘Thank you and goodnight,’ she said again, her tone matching the weather. That was the end of that, and a good job too.
‘Goodnight, Liberty.’ He seemed completely oblivious to her fury, but contrary to her expectations he didn’t try for a last goodnight kiss, turning on his heel and disappearing back into the cab as she opened the front door. She had closed the door and put the lights on before she heard the cab draw away, and with its going she felt as though the wind had been taken out of her sails.
‘Horrible man.’ She stood in the middle of her sitting room, her mind and body churning with so many emotions she couldn’t have put a name to just one. And then, as she glared across the room, her gaze was caught and held by the vase of flowers on the coffee table and, to her absolute horror, she burst into tears.
25-10-07, 10:45 PM
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