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Well, as he’d asked…‘Because I wouldn’t have dinner with you if you were the last man on earth. This might sound like an old cliché, but I’m not that sort of girl. I suggest you get back to your dinner companions, Mr Blake.’
Just a flicker of something she couldn’t quite read crossed his face before his features cleared of all expression. ‘I said dinner and I meant dinner,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve never yet bought a woman, Miss Fox. Surprising as it clearly appears to you, I haven’t had to.’
She could believe that. And she knew immediately she had made another huge mistake. Liberty groaned inwardly. ‘I’m sorry.’ She held his razor-sharp gaze even though she felt like bolting back into the cloakroom. ‘I had no right to assume…It’s just that most men…’ She didn’t know how to continue.
‘Take advantage of any opportunity to get to know a woman as lovely as you?’ A brief smile touched his lips and then disappeared. ‘I will plead guilty to that but not the rest. I am not “most men” as you’ll find out.’
Over her dead body. She wasn’t having anything to do with this man. He was dangerous. In fact, he made poor little Gerard look like a schoolboy in the seduction techniques.
Liberty forced a smile. ‘My father’s waiting; I have to go,’ she said quickly. ‘But I will phone and arrange for things to be sorted out.’
‘When?’ It was immediate, his eyes narrowing.
‘What?’ The nerve of the man, to try to tie her down like this!
‘When will you phone?’ he persisted silkily.
She had to get a handle on this, bring it back into the normal sphere of things. She called on all her training to keep cool and objective, or at least to give the appearance of being so. ‘Within the next twenty-four hours or so,’ she said evenly, refusing to be drawn further. ‘Now, as I said, my father is waiting, so if you’ll excuse me.’
‘There’s no rush; it isn’t as if he is sitting there alone. Is that your mother with him?’ For the first time since his teens Carter found himself trying to make conversation with a woman who clearly wanted shot of him. It astounded him. He half-expected her to tell him to mind his own business or to go to hell, but she did neither, merely staring at him with big brown eyes. Brown eyes as soft and velvety as a doe at bay.
‘No,’ she said finally. ‘She is not my mother.’
His lips twitched. Polite but firm, even though every line and curve of her body suggested she would rather be anywhere else than here. He ignored the screaming body language, saying quietly, ‘I didn’t think so. I couldn’t see any resemblance between you.’
Liberty shrugged. ‘There’s none between my mother and I, as it happens. She’s a small, blue-eyed blonde.’
Now it was Carter who stared. He had sensed something when she had spoken of her mother—very definite vibes and none of them good. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t ring him, after all; the last thing he needed right now was to get mixed up with a woman who came with baggage. He liked his relationships with women to emulate the way he viewed acquiring and disposing of a car—they needed to be good together while it lasted but once the parting of the ways came it was all straightforward. So it was with some surprise he heard himself say, ‘I’ll escort you back to your table.’
‘No need.’ Liberty was determined the last thing she was going to do was introduce him to her father and Joan. ‘Your dinner companion might get the wrong idea.’
‘Carmen? Oh no, Carmen and I understand each other very well,’ he said nonchalantly.
Funny, but she didn’t doubt that for a minute!
Liberty wasn’t aware her face was revealing her thoughts until the big body bent closer. ‘Carmen and I are just good friends, Liberty,’ he said pleasantly, but with a touch of steel in his voice which indicated he hadn’t appreciated her supposition. ‘If there was anything else between us I wouldn’t have suggested taking you to dinner. I’ve never pretended to be a hearth and home guy, but one woman at a time is more than enough for me. Okay?’ Dark eyebrows rose mockingly.
She felt furious that he had somehow put her in the wrong. He had walked in with that woman draped all over him like poison ivy and now he was blaming her for putting two and two together and making five. She tilted her head back and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Your association with Miss Lapotiaze, or anyone else for that matter, is absolutely nothing to do with me,’ she said clearly. ‘Goodnight, Mr Blake.’ And she left him before he had a chance to react, walking as swiftly as her inordinately high heels would allow into the heart of the nightclub.
She had half-expected him to follow her or to try to catch hold of her again, but she reached the others without incident—apart from almost going headlong across the table as her heel caught in the hem of her dress at the last moment.
Her father and Joan smiled at her with the guilty look of two people who had just been whispering sweet nothings, and she smiled brightly back, wondering how soon she could make her excuses and leave. Why had she allowed Carter to get under her skin like that? she asked herself as she sipped at her coffee. No other man had ever affected her in such a way. Not that there had been many men in her past.
The coffee was burning her throat but she barely felt it, her whole body tuned as tight as piano wire. She had had plenty of dates before Gerard, of course, but she had always kept things casual, and even Gerard hadn’t actually broken her heart. Bruised it maybe, and crushed her pride into the ground, but she couldn’t in all honesty say she was devastated beyond measure by his betrayal.
Her eyes opened wide as the knowledge dawned that she was well and truly over him and it had only taken a matter of weeks. Was that awful? She considered the matter and then decided she didn’t care if it was. She was just so thankful she hadn’t gone the whole hog and slept with him as he had been nagging at her to do for the last couple of months of their relationship. She would have hated to be another notch on his worn-away bedpost. When, or maybe that should be if, she gave herself to a man she at least wanted it to mean something for both of them.
When she made her move to leave, her father insisted on coming with her to the entrance of the nightclub and standing with her while the doorman hailed her a cab. ‘Thanks for being so nice to Joan.’ He hugged her as he spoke, his voice thick. ‘Do you think it would be rushing it if I asked her to marry me soon? And I mean real soon,’ he added somewhat bashfully.
‘After twenty odd years?’ Liberty reached up and patted his face, her touch gentle. ‘Go for it, Dad, if you’re sure.’
‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.’
‘Then ask her. Life’s too short to dilly-dally.’
‘You’d come to the ceremony? It’ll only be a register office do, I suppose, but I’d like you there,’ he said urgently.
‘You try and keep me away,’ said Liberty as the black cab pulled up in front of them. ‘Now, go back to her and I’ll give you a ring in the morning. And thanks for a lovely evening.’
He stood and waved her off as he had done on countless occasions in the past, but this time they both knew it was different. The cab got held up at the traffic lights, and as Liberty turned and looked through the back window she saw him bound back into the club like a twenty-year-old.
She smiled to herself, glad for him and for Joan too, but somehow their delight in each other had made her restless. Or was it something else, someone else, who had caused her to feel all at odds with the world tonight? She frowned, loath to admit Carter Blake could have such an influence on her when she had only met him a few hours ago.
It wasn’t him, she had decided firmly by the time the cab had deposited her home. It was the whole day—seeing her mother, the accident, the awful afternoon at work and then encountering Carter again on an evening when her emotions had been running high anyway. A good night’s sleep and everything would be back in perspective again. Anything else was just not an option.
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.’
