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Then, somewhere close at hand, a bird sounded a note, long and piercingly sweet.
Breaking the strange spell that had trapped her and bringing her sharply back to reality. She stiffened—instantly and defensively.
‘Do you usually hand out unwanted advice to complete strangers?’ She kept her tone curt.
‘You’re pretty near the edge, and the mud is treacherous where you’re standing.’ He shrugged, apparently unfazed by her abruptness. ‘I wouldn’t like you to slip and fall on your back—or worse.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But I’m quite capable of looking after myself. You really don’t need to be concerned.’
He’d halted a few feet away, hands on hips. ‘It’s pure self-interest, I promise you.’ His expression was deadpan. ‘If you fell in, I’d feel obliged to rescue you, and that water is freezing and full of weeds. Besides,’ he added, subjecting her ivory slip dress and the filmy turquoise and ivory jacket she wore over it to another lingering appraisal, ‘this wedding gear of yours clearly cost someone an arm and a leg. It would be a pity to spoil it.’
Cat’s mouth tightened. ‘Actually, I pay for my own clothes.’ She frowned. ‘And how do you know I’m at a wedding, anyway?’
He said drily, ‘Well, you’re clearly not dressed for a stroll in the countryside. Besides, I saw cars arriving earlier, done up with flowers and ribbons, plus girl in crinoline with veil looking furious. The usual stuff.’
He paused. ‘So what role are you playing in all this? Matron of honour?’
‘You’re not as observant as you think.’ She held up bare hands in a challenge she immediately regretted. ‘I’m not married.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily follow,’ he returned. ‘Wedding rings might not be politically correct this month.’
She hesitated. ‘I’m simply the bride’s cousin. Just another guest.’ She made a business of looking at her watch. ‘And I really should be getting back now.’
‘Why the sudden haste to go?’ His tone was lazy but his eyes were intent. She could feel them examining her, with all the intimacy of a touch, and felt her throat tighten in mingled alarm and excitement.
‘You wandered down here as if you had all the time in the world,’ he went on.
‘Because,’ Cat said tautly. ‘Things are quite tricky enough back there without me causing offence by staging a disappearing act.’
‘Although you’d like to.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘So, what’s the problem? Got a secret yen for the groom?’
‘God—no!’ The denial was startled out of her.
‘Well, that came from the heart.’ His mouth slanted into a wry grin. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
Now was the moment to tell him politely it was none of his business and go, thought Cat. Leave immediately, with no looking back.
So how was it she heard herself answering? ‘He plays rugby all winter, cricket all summer, has too much money and a roving eye. Plus he drinks far more than he should, and is already overweight.’
He whistled appreciatively. ‘You paint with words. No wonder the bride was looking so cross. Couldn’t you have done her a favour and produced a just impediment?’
‘I don’t think she’d have thanked me,’ Cat said drily. ‘Even if he has been leering down her best friend’s cleavage all through the reception.’
His brows rose. ‘Have they cut the cake yet? If not, I’d watch what she does with the knife.’
Cat realised her mouth was twitching, and tried to control it. ‘It’s not funny. And I really don’t know why I’ve told you all this, anyway,’ she added frankly.
‘Because you needed someone to talk to,’ he said. ‘And I happened to be here.’
‘Well, it’s very disloyal of me,’ she said. ‘And indiscreet. So, it would be kind of you to—put the whole thing out of your mind.’
‘All duly forgotten,’ he said. ‘Except, of course, for meeting you,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘You can’t really expect me to relegate that to some mental dustbin. That’s too much to ask.’
‘But we haven’t met,’ she said. ‘Not really.’ Oh, God, if he’d only stop looking at her like that. She could feel a languid warmth invading her that had nothing to do with the heat of the day. And instinct told her that it spelled danger—a complication that she didn’t need.
‘It’s just been a chance encounter,’ she continued hastily. ‘And it’s over now, anyway. I—I’m sure you have things to do.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well…’ Cat gave his shirt and jeans a dubious look. ‘You do work here, don’t you?’
‘Among other places,’ he nodded.
‘Then someone’s paying for your time,’ she said. ‘And they might not be too pleased to find you…’ She hesitated, searching for the right word.
‘Loitering?’ he supplied, his eyes glinting mockingly. ‘With intent?’
She bit her lip. ‘Something like that. I—I didn’t think jobs were that easy to come by these days.’
‘That rather depends on the job,’ he told her softly. ‘And whether or not you’re an expert at what you do.’
‘Which, naturally, you are,’ Cat flashed back at him, with more haste than wisdom.
‘I don’t have many complaints.’ He smiled at her slowly, letting her know without equivocation that this conversation had nothing to do with gainful employment.
Cat found herself stifling a gasp as her inner heat went suddenly soaring and her imagination ran momentarily wild. And he, she thought with shock, was as aware of that as she was herself.
‘But it’s good of you to care,’ he added negligently.
She said carefully, as she got her breathing back under control, ‘Actually, I don’t give a damn what you do in your working hours or out of them. But I do wonder what the Durant hotel chain would say if they knew that one of their employees spent part of his working hours—harassing guests?’
His brows lifted. ‘Is that what I’m doing?’ he enquired sardonically. ‘I hadn’t realised. In that case, I’d better leave you in peace and return to my—er—duties, so that you can get back to the party of the century.’ He turned, lifting a casual hand. ‘Have a nice day.’
She was aware of ludicrously mixed feelings as he walked away. Yes, she’d found him both attractive and quite unbelievably unsettling, making it essential for the encounter to be brought to a brisk end before she said or did something genuinely stupid, but had it really been necessary to go into uptight bitch mode instead?
Maybe, she thought wryly, because I know that at any other time or place I could have been very seriously tempted.
But now I have to get back to the reception and check that it hasn’t descended into open warfare.
She made to turn and nearly overbalanced, arms flailing, as she realised, too late, that the slender high heel of one strappy turquoise sandal was stuck firmly in the mud.
Oh, God, she groaned inwardly, this is all I need.
She tried desperately to wriggle it free, but it wouldn’t budge, and now her other heel appeared to be sinking too.
Of course she could always slip her feet out of her shoes and tiptoe to firmer ground, but it would be only too easy to slip.
And with her luck…
What she actually needed, she realised reluctantly, was assistance.
There was only one person in earshot who could provide that, and he was now some fifty yards away, and moving fast.
She put her hands to her mouth. ‘Hey,’ she called. ‘Could you come back, please? I—I need help.’
He swung round and looked at her, and for one awful moment she was convinced he was simply going to shrug and walk on, leaving her there, stranded. Which, of course, would be the perfect revenge, she thought, simmering.
But then he began to make his way back, without particular hurry. He paused a few feet away, watching her, poker-faced. ‘Having trouble?’
‘As you see.’ Cat bit her lip. ‘And, yes, you warned me, so I only have myself to blame. But could you get me out of here, just the same?’ She paused, waiting in vain for some move on his part—even some softening of his expression. Then added with some difficulty, ‘Please?’
‘I’d be delighted.’ He walked over to her. ‘Are you prepared to put your arm round my neck? Or will you have me arrested as well as fired?’
She flushed. ‘I’m sorry about all that.’ She tried a laugh. ‘I’m—a little tense, that’s all.’
She felt awkward and absurdly self-conscious as she did as she was bidden. Inadvertently her hand brushed his hair, and its crisp texture sent a shiver through her body.
He put his arm round her waist, and she felt his muscles bunch as he lifted her clear of her shoes, balancing her on his hip. She could feel the warmth of his body burning through her thin dress—and—even more troubling—the immediacy of her own response.
He smiled into her eyes. ‘I’ll do a trade with you,’ he said softly. ‘Have dinner with me tonight, and I’ll not only rescue your footwear, Cinderella, but I’ll also resist the temptation to dump you on your charming backside in the mud.’
Her arm tightened round his neck in pure alarm. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
He allowed her to slip—just a fraction—and she gasped, half in panic and half at the increased intimacy of the contact, aware that her dress had ridden up round her thighs and that he knew it too.
‘Well?’ he said. ‘Is it a deal?’
She was silent for a moment, her mind churning. Then, ‘I suppose so,’ she muttered.
‘I’ve had more gracious acceptances.’ There was a touch of wryness in his tone. ‘But I guess I’ll have to settle for what I can get—for now, at least.’ He paused. ‘Shall we say eight o’clock? They should have finished removing the bodies from the Banqueting Suite by then.’
Cat flushed, setting her mouth. ‘I did ask you to forget what I said.’
‘Impossible,’ he said. ‘But I will try not to refer to it again.’
‘Thank you.’ She hesitated. ‘You’re quite sure that you want to eat here?’ She was genuinely surprised at the suggestion. The Anscote Manor Hotel was quietly luxurious, and it had a fine reputation for its food—with prices to match.
‘You think they’ll refuse to serve me?’ He shook his head. ‘They’re quite democratic. There won’t be a problem.’
Perhaps they even offered discount to staff, Cat thought, although it seemed unlikely on a busy summer evening. But if they were refused entry it would let her off the hook.
‘Very well,’ she acknowledged tonelessly. ‘Eight it is, then.’
He carried her to a patch of dry grass and set her down, then went back for her shoes. He knelt, freeing each heel with great gentleness, then produced a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped them both carefully.
He brought them to her. ‘Give me your foot,’ he directed, sinking down on to one knee, and mutely she obeyed, resting a hand momentarily on his shoulder as he fitted the sandals back on for her. Finding, as she did so, that she was fighting an impulse to let her fingers stray over the crispness of his dark hair, or inside the collar of his shirt, and explore the taut muscularity of his shoulders. Feeling a strange trembling weakness stir deep inside her.
Oh, God, she told herself in a silent whisper. I cannot—cannot allow this to happen…
‘There,’ he said. ‘As good as new.’
‘Thank you,’ Cat said, pulling herself together with an effort. ‘But that’s more than can be said for those jeans—or your handkerchief.’ She regarded the glistening muddy streaks on both items with disfavour. ‘You’d better have them laundered and send me the bill.’
‘You pay for your clothes,’ he reminded her. ‘I pay for my own laundry. But it was a kind thought.’
‘Yes—well.’ She offered him a swift, meaningless smile. ‘I’ll—see you later.’
‘You can count on it.’ He paused. ‘But I think we’ve forgotten something. I don’t know your name. You don’t know mine.’
‘Is it strictly necessary?’ she asked with spurious brightness. ‘After all—ships that pass in the night and all that.’ She shrugged. ‘It might even be—more exciting not to know.’
‘Well, we all have our own separate ideas of excitement,’ he said with a touch of dryness. ‘But I’d still like to know what you’re called.’
‘Then it’s Catherine,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But I’m always known as Cat.’
His brows lifted. ‘Not Cathy—or Kate?’
‘Absolutely not. It’s because of the story.’ She shrugged again. ‘Someone once told me I was like The Cat That Walked By Itself.’
‘I wonder if that’s true.’ He looked back at her, half frowning. ‘I suppose you have a surname as well?’
‘And I’m sure you do too,’ she said evenly. ‘But we’re not going to use them—and that’s my part of the deal. First names only.’
He said slowly, ‘Very well. If that’s how you want it.’ He paused. ‘And I’m Liam. Sometimes known as Lee, but only to my intimates. So I’m afraid you don’t qualify.’
‘I’ll try and get over the disappointment. Besides, I’d probably be lost in the crowd anyway,’ Cat told him coolly. ‘And now I’d better get back to the killing fields.’ She hesitated. ‘So where do you want us to meet—this evening?’
‘Don’t worry about that.’ His faint smile did not reach his eyes. ‘When the time comes—I’ll find you.’
And he turned and walked away, leaving Cat staring after him, her face expressionless but a thousand alarm bells ringing in her brain.
CHAPTER TWO
I MUST be losing my grip, Cat thought grimly as she made her way back to the hotel, trying not to hurry too obviously in case he was watching from somewhere. Because this is a serious overreaction on my part.
It was ludicrous to feel like this—as if she was helpless, or threatened in some way. Because that was far from the case. She, Cat Adamson, was quite capable of taking care of herself.
And, yes, Liam—or Lee-to-his-intimates—was undeniably loaded with attraction, but he was by no means irresistible. In her scheme of things no man was.
No doubt he’d sampled all the local talent and decided to spread his net a little wider. A born opportunist, she told herself scathingly, who would benefit from the set-down she was planning to administer. Not that he was likely to see it that way, of course. But she doubted it would do any real harm to the male arrogance flourishing under all that dangerous charm.
What was it he’d said? I guess I’ll have to settle for what I can get—for now, at least…
What was that supposed to mean? she wondered. Not that she was ever going to find out, because, whatever she might have said, she wasn’t keeping this date.
Instead, she would simply cancel the room she’d booked for the night and be back in London before he even knew she was gone. And that would draw a final line under an episode which had disturbed her far more than she wanted to admit.
At the terrace steps she hesitated, taking a quick look back over her shoulder. But he was nowhere to be seen, she realised with a quick sigh of relief. Probably his tea-break, or whatever, was over, and he’d decided to return to work. She could only hope he wasn’t operating anywhere near the car park.
