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He was digging too deep, questioning her too closely, Kelly recognised, and in order to answer him she was either going to have to commit herself to more lies or risk betraying the fiction she was creating.
‘It’s hot in here,’ she complained, pulling free of him. ‘I need some fresh air.’
It wasn’t entirely untrue; she was hot and the terrace she could see beyond the ballroom’s open French windows did offer a much needed escape from the cause of that heat—which was not so much the air in the ballroom as the presence of the man beside her and her own feelings of trepidation and guilt.
As she headed for the terrace, it didn’t occur to Kelly that he would follow her. She could guess from the way he had been questioning her just what he thought of her, and she knew that in refusing to answer him she had equally plainly confirmed those suspicions.
It was a relief to reach the cool shadows of the terrace, and, avoiding the other couples strolling its length, Kelly turned instead to descend the flight of stone steps that led into the garden.
She was almost at the bottom when a sharp stone underfoot caused her to stumble, but instead of experiencing the ignominy of falling to her knees on the gravel pathway she was scooped up in a pair of hard male arms and she heard Brough’s voice against her ear telling her calmly, ‘It’s all right, I’ve got you …’
He certainly had, and it seemed he had no intention of letting her go, either. Against her body she could feel the heavy thud of his heartbeat as he helped her to her feet but still continued to hold onto her. Disconcertingly her own heart suddenly started to race, and she discovered that she was finding it hard to breathe.
‘Did you twist your ankle? Can you put your weight on it?’
‘My ankle …’ Dizzily Kelly looked up into his eyes, and then at his mouth, and then foolishly she did exactly the same thing again. The effect on her nervous system was like a shock wave of mega-force, a subterranean uprising of such intensity that it blew every fuse on her internal alarm system—and then some.
Unwisely she licked her inexplicably dry lips. What had he said about her ankle? What ankle? Helplessly her gaze clung to his. Surely no man should have such ridiculously long lashes, such darkly intense eyes. She felt as though … as though …
‘Kelly. Kelly …’
‘Yes,’ she whispered in tacit acknowledgement of what she knew was going to happen.
A kiss was simply a kiss … wasn’t it? How could she be so foolish, so unaware … so naive as to think that? This was certainly no mere kiss, this meeting, caressing of her mouth by and with his. But even as she tried to analyse what was happening, to hold onto some protective shred of sanity, the thread holding her, it snapped beneath the weight of what she was feeling. Blissfully she gave herself up to sensation—to the smooth, rough, hot, sweet feel of his mouth against hers, to the swift ascent from careful, hesitant exploration to the dizzying heights of a complete and passionate explosion of need she could feel shaking her body.
‘Kelly!’ As he whispered her name Brough’s hand reached out to touch her face, to stroke tenderly along her jaw, to support her head as his tongue-tip parted her sensuously swollen lips.
‘Brough!’
Was that really her whispering his name in a sigh that was all soft yearning and longing, exposing dangerously the tender, vulnerable heart of herself which she normally kept so carefully guarded?
Unable to stop herself, Kelly reached out and touched his jaw with her fingertips. His skin felt cool and strong. Hard, masculine. Shivering in pleasure, she stood still beneath his kiss. His arms tightened around her almost as though he wanted to guard and protect her.
Shyly Kelly opened her eyes, unable to resist the temptation to look at him whilst he was caressing her mouth with the most unbelievably erotic brush of his lips against hers, but to her shock his own eyes were open and he was looking right back at her.
The sensation of looking so deeply into his eyes whilst he kissed her felt like the most intimate experience she had ever had. Her earlier shivers had become deep tremors of intense emotion, and when he stopped kissing her and raised his mouth from hers to look searchingly at her Kelly made a small sound of distress, her fingertips touching his lips in a gesture of silent longing.
This time it was his turn to shudder, racked by a surge of male desire so strong and so open that Kelly felt her own body start to respond to it—to it and to him.
This time, when they kissed, she couldn’t remain passive beneath his mouth, but returned each caress, mirroring every touch, every sound as they kissed and broke apart, only to kiss again.
‘Kelly, are you out there?’
The sound of Harry’s worried voice from the terrace above them brought Kelly back to reality. Hot-faced, she stepped back from Brough, not sure whether to be pleased or insulted that he had released her immediately.
His own face was turned away from her as he looked up towards the terrace, and so she couldn’t see his expression nor guess what he was thinking until he said coldly to her, ‘You’re a very popular woman. First Julian and now Harry—but you’ll forgive me, I know, if I decline to join the queue; enticing though what you have to offer undoubtedly is, I’m afraid my tastes run to a woman less practised and more genuine …’
Before Kelly could answer him he had gone, plunging past her into the darkness of the garden.
Shakily she turned towards the steps.
‘Thank goodness I’ve found you,’ Harry told her as he saw her. ‘Dee would have had my guts for garters if I’d let anything happen to you. I’m under strict instructions to take care of you …’ He started to frown, and then told her a little uncomfortably, ‘It’s none of my business, I know, and Dee’s not told me what’s going on, but Cox isn’t a man I’d want any sister of mine to get involved with, and …’
‘You’re right,’ Kelly agreed in gentle warning. ‘It isn’t any of your business, Harry.’
When they returned to their table they were just in time to see Brough leaving; giving Harry and Kelly a curt nod, he ignored Eve’s protests that it was too early for him to leave.
‘I’ve got a meeting at nine in the morning,’ Kelly heard him telling his sister.
‘Oh, but you haven’t forgotten that you promised to talk with Julian? He has something special to ask you, and there’s his new venture, too,’ Eve reminded her brother anxiously.
Immediately Kelly’s ears pricked up. If Julian was looking for someone to finance a new business venture then Dee would certainly want to know about it. But as though he had somehow sensed her curiosity Brough touched his sister lightly on the arm and told her, ‘I’m sure that Harry and Kelly aren’t interested in our private family affairs. Cox …’ He nodded briefly in Julian’s direction before telling him, ‘I’ll arrange for a taxi to collect Eve—if I were you I’d leave your car behind and organise one for yourself.’
Was she imagining it or had he actually emphasised the word ‘private’, underlining its significance by giving her a cool, distancing look as he did so?
Whatever the case, Kelly could feel her face starting to burn slightly.
There was no point in her trying to deceive herself. From his demeanour towards his sister, she suspected that he was normally a man who regarded her sex with respect and genuine appreciation, even if at times he did allow his natural male instinct to protect anyone whom he might consider to be vulnerable to surface through his otherwise very politically correct manners. But where she was concerned he had displayed the kind of behaviour that was very far from treating her with respect. That kiss they had exchanged, which for her had been an act of heart-shakingly emotional and physical sensual significance, a complete one-off in her life and totally different from anything she had done or experienced before, had for him simply been an endorsement of the fact that her deliberately flirtatious behaviour with Julian meant that she was open to all manner of unpleasant male behaviour.
The kiss, which had seemed so deeply meaningful and intimate to her, had quite obviously for him merely been a reinforcement of his contempt for her, an emotionally barren male reaction to what he must have seen as some kind of casual, careless open invitation from her.
This kind of situation was so alien to her that Kelly had no knowledge of how to deal with it, and her instinctive desire to confront him and challenge his attitude towards her was further complicated and hampered by the role she was having to play.
Anyway, she decided firmly half an hour later as Harry was driving her home, why was she bothering wasting so much time worrying about what Brough Frobisher may or may not think about her? Why indeed! Julian, though, certainly seemed to have taken the bait, as Dee had planned he would. Kelly gave a small shudder of disgust—the heel.
She grimaced a little, remembering the open interest Julian had shown in the pearl earrings and solitaire ring she had been wearing—an inspired addition to her outfit on her own part; unlike her couture gown and earrings, the ring was anything but genuine, but Julian had certainly been taken in by it—just as his unworldly naive victims had been taken in by him. Dee was right—it was time someone turned the tables on him—but, much as she wanted to help her friend, Kelly had to admit to wishing there might be some other way she could do so.
‘You, Kelly are suddenly going to become an extremely rich young woman,’ Dee had told her. ‘All you have to do is let him believe that you’re prepared to commit yourself and, more importantly, your future to him. His own ego and his greed will do the rest.’
Kelly hoped that she was right, because there was certainly no way she was going to be able to give Julian any physical, sexual confirmation of her supposed desire for him. No way at all!
CHAPTER FOUR
KELLY looked up as she heard the shop doorbell go. She was expecting Dee. They had spoken on the phone earlier when Dee had announced that she intended to come round to collect the ballgown accessories which had, in fact, been hired from an exclusive dress shop and to discuss what had happened at the ball.
Kelly had had a pleasingly busy morning with several customers. She hoped that Beth was going to be able to source a supplier of high-quality glass in the Czech Republic as this morning alone she had promised three potentially interested customers that they were hopefully going to be able to provide them with the sets of stemware they wanted.
‘Something different … something pretty … something not too expensive …’ had been the heartfelt pleas of their potential customers. Fingers crossed that if Beth’s quest was successful they would be able to meet all three requirements.
‘Right,’ Dee commanded briskly as she walked up to the counter. ‘How did the ball go? Tell me everything …’
‘Julian was there with his new girlfriend,’ Kelly began, pausing before she added quietly, ‘I felt so sorry for her, Dee. She’s plainly very much in love with him and so young and naive … I hate the thought of doing anything that might hurt her …’
‘She’ll be hurt much, much more if Julian succeeds in persuading her to marry him, which he’s going to go all out to do. His finances are in a complete mess and getting worse by the day. He’s desperately in need of money. She’s quite wealthy in her own right and then, when you add on the financial benefits which could accrue to him through her brother … But from what Harry has told me Julian was making a very definite play for you …’
‘Yes, he was,’ Kelly agreed, tracing an abstract design with the tip of her finger on the polished glass counter before saying hesitantly, ‘Dee, I’m not sure if I can go on with what we planned. I don’t like Julian, and, whilst I like even less what he’s done to Beth and what he’s doing to Eve Frobisher, I …’
‘Would it help if I gave you my solemn promise that on no account and on no occasion would I ever allow a situation to arise where you would have to be on your own with him?’ Dee asked her.
Kelly stared at her. How on earth had Dee guessed what was troubling her?
‘You’re quite right,’ Dee told her, answering the question Kelly still had to ask. ‘I wouldn’t want to be on my own with him either, especially if I thought that there was any risk that he might guess what we’re up to … Harry is quite aggrieved with me, you know,’ she added with a chuckle. ‘He not only feels that as your friend and landlady I ought to put you wise to Julian’s real character, he also shares your concern on behalf of Eve Frobisher.
‘In fact,’ she told Kelly ruefully, ‘I’m afraid he’s rather taken me to task over the whole thing.’
‘Does he now know what we’re doing, then?’ Kelly asked her in some surprise. Instinctively she had felt that Dee was a woman who exercised her own judgement, made her own decisions and played her cards very close to her chest.
‘Not entirely,’ Dee admitted, confirming Kelly’s private thoughts. ‘Harry is a sweetie, as solid and dependable as they come. He wouldn’t recognise a lie if he met one walking down the street; subterfuge and everything that goes with it is very much alien territory to him, which does have its advantages, of course. He’s wonderful potential husband and father material …’ She cocked a thoughtful eye at Kelly. ‘He’s comfortably off, and I know for a fact that his mother is dying for him to settle down and produce children. If you were interested …’
‘He’s a honey,’ Kelly told her hastily, ‘but not, I’m afraid, my type.’
Nor, she suspected, was she his, but she rather thought she knew someone who might be. She hadn’t missed the anxious and protective looks Harry had been giving Eve over dinner the previous night.
‘Mmm … Pity … Look, I’ve got to dash,’ Dee told her. ‘When Julian rings you—which he will—I want to know about it …’
‘Dee,’ Kelly said, but it was too late; the other woman was already heading for the door, ignoring her half-panicky protests.
What was Dee saying? Julian wouldn’t ring her. He wouldn’t dare. Flirting with her last night was one thing, but …
In her heart of hearts Kelly knew that despite her desire to do the right thing by Beth and the rest of her sex she was secretly reluctant to have anything more to do with Julian. Not because she feared him. She didn’t. No. Contempt, dislike, anger … those were the emotions he aroused within her.
Admit it, she told herself sternly ten minutes later as she locked the shop and disappeared into the small back room to have her lunch, ‘you just hate the thought of anyone thinking you could possibly be attracted to him. Anyone … or a specific someone … a very specific someone.
Pushing aside her half-eaten sandwich, Kelly started to frown. Don’t start that again, she warned herself. He’s not much better than Julian … Look at the way he treated you. Kissing you like that.
Kissing her … Abruptly she sat down, her insides starting to melt and then ache.
Watch it, she warned herself, deriding herself fiercely. It isn’t just your insides he’s turning to mush, it’s your brain as well.
Her frown deepened as she heard someone ringing the shop doorbell. Couldn’t they read? They were closed. The ringing persisted. Irritably Kelly got up. There was no way she could finish her lunch with that row going on.
Opening the communicating door, she marched into the shop and then stopped abruptly as she saw Brough Frobisher standing on the other side of the plate-glass window.
Her hand went to her throat in an instinctive gesture of shock as she breathed in disbelief, ‘You.’
Shakily she went to unlock the shop door. Brough was frowning as he stepped inside.
‘I’m looking for Kay Harris,’ he told her abruptly. The sense of shock that hit her was so strong that for a moment Kelly was unable to reply.
‘She does work here, doesn’t she?’ Brough was demanding curtly, looking at her, Kelly realised, as though he doubted her ability to answer him competently.
‘Yes. Yes, she does … I do … It’s Kelly, not Kay,’ Kelly corrected him shakily. ‘K is just my initial.’
‘You!’
Sensing his reluctance to believe her, Kelly drew herself up to her full height and told him in her most businesslike voice, ‘My partner and I run this shop.’
‘You paint china?’ His disbelief was palpable and insulting.
Kelly could feel her temper starting to ignite. There were many things she was not, and she had her fair share of human faults and frailties, but there was one thing that she was sure of and that was that she was extremely good at her chosen work—and that wasn’t merely her own opinion.
‘Yes, I do. Perhaps you’d like to see my credentials?’ she suggested bitingly.
‘I thought I just did—last night.’ The long, slow, arrogantly male look he gave her made her face burn and her temper heat to simmering point.
‘What is it exactly that you want?’ she demanded angrily, adding before she could stop herself, ‘If it’s simply because you’re some sort of weirdo who gets off on insulting women, I should have thought your behaviour towards me last night would have more than satisfied you.’
Kelly knew that she had overstepped the mark. She could hardly believe what she had just heard herself say, but it was too late to withdraw her remarks. Retaliation couldn’t be long in coming, she recognised, and she was right.
‘If you’re referring to the fact that I kissed you …’ he began silkily, and then paused whilst he looked straight into her eyes. ‘Allow me to say that you have a rather … unusual … way of expressing your … displeasure …’
He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to, Kelly acknowledged; the expression in his eyes and the tone of his voice along with the masterly understatement of his silky words was more than enough to leave her covered in confusion and angry, self-inflicted humiliation.
‘I … You … It was a mistake,’ was all she could think of to say.
‘Oh, yes,’ he agreed dulcetly. ‘It certainly was. Now, I’m afraid that I am rather short of time. I have a commission I would like to discuss with you.’
Kelly blinked. All that and he still wanted to talk business with her.
Her thoughts must have shown in her face because he explained gently, ‘You’re my last resort. You have, or so I am told, a very particular and rare skill. It will soon be my grandmother’s eightieth birthday. She has a Rockingham-style teaset, a much cherished family heirloom, but some pieces are missing, broken many years ago. The set has no particular material value; its value to her is in the fact that it was a wedding gift from her grandparents. I have managed to find out that Hartwell China bought out the original manufacturers many, many years ago and, whilst they still produce china in the same shape, they no longer produce the same pattern.
‘To have one of their own artists copy such an intricate floral design would, they say, prove far too costly—the work would have to be done by one of the top workers, which would mean taking him or her off work they already have in hand. They recommended that I got in touch with you. Apparently there is no one else they would allow, never mind recommend, to do such work.’
‘I … I worked for them whilst I was at university,’ Kelly explained huskily. ‘That was when I discovered that I had some talent for … for china-painting. I would have to see the design … It wouldn’t be easy … or cheap …’ she warned him.
Against her will she had been touched by the story he had told her, but she knew, even if he didn’t, just how intricate and time-consuming the kind of work he was describing could be.
‘I’ve managed to cadge one of the tea plates from Nan, and Hartwell have very kindly said that I can use their archive records.’
‘Do you have the plate with you?’ Kelly asked him.
He shook his head, unexpectedly looking oddly boyish as he admitted, ‘I’m terrified of breaking it. I’ve got it at home. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to call there to see it.’
Kelly wanted to refuse, but her professional pride and curiosity proved too strong for her.
‘I could,’ she agreed cautiously, ‘but it would have to be when the shop is closed. My partner, Beth, is away at the moment.’
‘Could you manage this evening?’
‘I …’
‘I don’t have very much time left. Nan’s birthday isn’t very far away,’ he told her.
Kelly sighed. There was no reason why she shouldn’t look at the plate this evening.
‘I suppose so,’ she agreed reluctantly. ‘Where do you live? I—’ She broke off as the phone began to ring, automatically going to answer it, saying, ‘Excuse me a moment …’ as she picked up the receiver.
‘Hi, Kelly, it’s Julian. How are you, you delicious, hot, sexy thing …?’
