A hand came out to grasp her arm, the man was still at her side. ‘I’ll walk with you.’
The voice sounded young, interested, and for the first time she realised the inadvisability of coming down here alone in the dark. ‘Would you please leave me alone?’ She pulled away from him.
‘No.’
Kate swallowed hard at that single-worded answer. He spoke so firmly, so inevitably, that she felt her tension rising. ‘I shall scream—’
‘Who would hear you?’ There was laughter in his voice now.
She moistened her lips, tasting the salt there, the sea-water being whipped up into the air by the fierce wind causing the whitecaps far out to sea being illuminated by the moon. If only she could see her accoster—all she knew was that he looked big and sounded young, his hair obviously long and dark as it was blown about. ‘I didn’t come alone,’ she told him with confidence. ‘I have a friend—’
‘I know—me.’ Once again he clasped her arm. ‘I know you’re down here alone, at the hotel alone too. Don’t you realise how dangerous it could be out here?’
‘I’m beginning to!’
‘You’re in no danger from me, I can assure you,’ he mused.
‘I’m not?’ She unwittingly showed her uncertainty.
‘Not at this precise moment, no,’ he mocked. ‘Later I can’t answer for,’ he added softly. ‘I’m staying at the hotel too,’ he spoke briskly. ‘I saw you leave over an hour ago, when you didn’t come back I thought I ought to come and check that you were okay.’
‘Who asked you to be my watchdog?’ Kate snapped.
‘No one,’ he replied without rancour. ‘I just didn’t like the picture I’d conjured up of you a helpless crumpled heap at the bottom of the cliff.’
‘Well, you can see I’m fine, so I—’
‘I’ll just see you back to the hotel, if you don’t mind.’
‘I do!’
‘Well, I’m going back myself anyway, so I might as well walk with you.’
‘I—’ Kate began.
‘Are you here on holiday?’ he asked conversationally. ‘Only you don’t seem to be with anyone and—’
‘Are you spying on me?’ she demanded furiously, turning to glare at him in the darkness, her eyes almost luminous, deep gold in her anger.
‘Yes.’
‘I—You—’ She was speechless at his candidness.
‘I saw you arrive this morning and I’ve been watching you ever since. I can’t seem to do anything else,’ he added derisively.
Now she knew who he was, knew the face and body behind the voice. She had been aware of a man with laughing blue eyes watching her as she brought in her cases this morning, and again as she ate dinner this evening. The man had been seated across the room from her, also alone. He was good-looking if you liked rakish charm and a complete disregard for fashion and elegance. He was also the last person she wanted to talk to, his interest in her being obvious as his gaze never left her during dinner. In fact, it had been this that had hastened her departure from the dining-room this evening, her meal only half over.
‘How interesting,’ she said in a bored voice, relieved as she saw the lights of the hotel.
‘You don’t think so?’ he mocked.
‘No.’ She spoke with the same bluntness he did.
‘It was a man,’ he said with a sigh.
Kate came to a halt, looking up at him in the darkness. ‘What was?’ she queried warily.
‘The reason you’re spending time in a half empty hotel in mid-March.’
‘Oh, but it isn’t going to be half empty for long,’ she derided. ‘Apparently there’s some sort of conference starting at the end of the week; I have to vacate my room then.’
‘Good business management,’ he murmured appreciately. ‘I often wondered how these big hotels at seaside resorts survived through the winter.’
‘Well, now you know,’ she taunted as he held the door open for her, the lighted reception area showing she had been right about his identity; he was the man with the laughing blue eyes and the teasing smile that made the waitress blush as she served him his meal.
‘I certainly do.’ Again he seemed unaffected by her rudeness. ‘Would you like to join me in the bar for a drink?’
‘No, thank you.’ She pushed her long red hair away from her face, slightly wet from the damp air outside.
His mouth twisted. ‘It was a man, wasn’t it, the reason you’re hiding yourself here?’
‘I’m not hiding anywhere!’ she snapped.
‘No?’ he taunted.
‘No!’ Her eyes glowed her anger, there was a healthy colour to her cheeks from her walk on the beach.
‘Then have a drink with me.’ He thrust his hands into the back pockets of his denims, looking at her challengingly.
She was being goaded into accepting, she knew that, and yet something made her want to accept that challange, to show herself that she might have been hurt by one man but she was still capable of attracting another one. ‘I’ll have a glass of brandy, thank you,’ she accepted haughtily.
If he was surprised by her change of mind then he didn’t show it, seeing her seated at one of the plush booths before going up to the bar to get their drinks. Kate compared his attire to the formality of some of the other men in the room, and found him wanting, although he seemed unconcerned, carrying himself with a confidence that said to hell with convention.
‘Here we go.’ He put their two brandy glasses down on the table, sitting close to her in the booth. ‘Now tell me about yourself.’ He sat forward, his elbow on the table bringing him very close to her.
She avoided his gaze. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘You come from London.’
‘So do you,’ she guessed in return. ‘So what are you doing here?’
‘It’s off-season—’
‘And the rates are lower,’ she finished derisively.
‘There is that,’ he grinned. ‘Although I was going to say there were fewer people.’
‘Of course you were,’ she mocked.
‘Don’t you get tired carrying that around with you?’ He looked at her consideringly.
This time she was ready for him. ‘The scowl or the chip on my shoulder?’ she asked with sarcasm.
He began to smile, then he chuckled, and finally he laughed. ‘I like a woman with a quick mind.’
‘Only a quick mind?’ she heard herself asking, putting the glass of brandy down with a shaking hand as she realised the brandy on an empty stomach was starting to make her head swim. She hadn’t wanted her food earlier, and the glow spreading through her body reminded her of that fact. ‘I think perhaps I should go—’
He stayed her with his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t,’ he said huskily. ‘Stay,’ he encouraged softly. ‘Tell me your name.’
Why shouldn’t she stay and talk to him? Brian certainly wouldn’t be pining away for her. Brian. She had tried not to think of him today, and she felt sure this handsome man with the devil in his eyes could help her to continue not to think of him.
She picked up her glass and drank some more of the brandy, feeling her recklessness grow with each mouthful. ‘My name is Kate,’ she told him throatily.
‘Just Kate?’ He raised dark brows.
‘Just Kate,’ she nodded, deciding there was no reason for him to know anything else about her.
He smiled. ‘Then I’m just Jared.’
‘That suits me. Would you like another drink?’ she offered after swallowing down the last of her brandy.
‘An independent woman, hmm?’
‘Very much so,’ she agreed tautly.
He sat back in a relaxed pose. ‘Then I’d love another drink.’
Kate never knew afterwards how much she had had to drink during the evening, or quite what they talked about, but suddenly it was after eleven and Jared was suggesting walking her back to her room. Only he didn’t want to leave her at the door, and it had nothing to do with the brandy that she inv
ited him in.
The double bed that dominated the room added intimacy to the moment, and Jared seemed to become aware of it at the same time she did, their gazes locking and holding, the move into each other’s arms made simultaneously, their lips meeting in a quest for mutual need, for forgetfulness on Kate’s part.
She had known the moment he identified himself on the beach that the evening was going to end this way, knowing a need to feel wanted, to feel a woman, to know that it had nothing to do with her own attraction that had so suddenly changed Brian towards her.
What she hadn’t been prepared for had been her reaction to a man she only knew as Jared! Brian was the man she loved, but even he had only made her feel contented in her response to him, her real pleasure being in knowing she had pleased him. This man wasn’t prepared to settle for contentment, his lips and hands ravaging her body in a fiery quest, taking her higher than she had ever wanted to go before.
Jared didn’t rush a thing; each inch of her body was given his own brand of lovemaking, encouraging Kate to know each tautly muscled line of his body in return, their bodies finally melting together in such accord that she gasped at the pleasure of it, measuring the movements of her body to the smooth thrusts of Jared’s, clutching on to the dampness of his shoulders as she arched into him in gasping ecstasy.
Jared had been insatiable that night, and for two more days and another night too, and while in his arms Kate hadn’t been able to think of anything but him. She had let him take control of her life for the time she was with him, hadn’t wanted to think of the reason she had come to the hotel in the first place, or of the lonely weeks ahead of her when she returned to London. She hadn’t wanted to think of Brian either, or of the way he had hurt her. And she hadn’t; she had given herself completely to Jared for the time they were together.
But the time for her to leave had arrived all too quickly, and with it the fact that she was Katharine Collier, the twenty-four-year-old owner of an up-and-coming advertising agency, and certainly beyond a clandestine affair with a man who didn’t look as if he had ever worn a dinner suit in his life.
They had talked little during their time together, preferring to communicate with their bodies, and when Jared had asked to see her once he had returned to London she hadn’t known what to say. Jared had proved himself to be an intelligent man, with a lively sense of humour, and a sensitivity that often made her cry out for mercy—a mercy she neither desired or was ever granted. But he was far removed from her life in London, and the thought of seeing him again there wasn’t something she wanted.
That last day together they had lunched together in the dining-room, the staff politely ignoring the fact that they hadn’t been seen for two days and serving them quietly and efficiently. But Jared’s desire to see her when they returned to London made her wish that the meal was over and she were driving back to London.
‘I’ll be very busy for the next few weeks,’ she said awkwardly. ‘This holiday was unexpected, and I won’t have time for socialising when I get back.’
‘Who said anything about socialising?’ He gave her a wicked grin, the eyes that could caress at a glance glowing with humour as he held her hand across the table. ‘I like having you all to myself.’
She pulled her hand out from under his. ‘I won’t have time for that either,’ she made her tone casual. ‘I’m a working girl, remember?’
‘And I’m sure you’re excellent at it, darling.’ He had taken to using the endearment during their time together, and he did it so naturally, casually, that Kate couldn’t possibly object. ‘But I won’t be in London for several months yet myself; I have work of my own to do first.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You do?’
‘Yes,’ he laughed at her surprised expression. ‘I don’t spend all my time making love to beautiful ladies. I have to earn a living too.’
‘How?’ She was interested in spite of herself.
‘By my wits, mainly.’
His answer didn’t surprise her. Jared had spent the last two days with her without thought or excuse to anyone, and when they had bothered to dress it had been informally, always denims and a casual shirt for Jared, not even a trace of the formal about the man who had been her lover for the last two days. He was a drifter, a man who admitted to living on his wits; he didn’t fit in with her London lifestyle at all.
‘What do you intend doing that will keep you away from London?’ She pretended interest in a way of life that was totally alien to her.
He shrugged. ‘I’ll be in North America for the next few months. I have—Why don’t you come with me?’ he suggested with sudden excitement. ‘Why didn’t I think of it before? We don’t have to part now, we could—Yes?’ he looked up as a waiter appeared quietly beside their table.
‘For you, Mr Rourke.’ The man held out a tray with a message lying on its surface. He stood silently beside them waiting for a reply as Jared read the message.
Jared scanned the words with impatience. ‘Damn,’ he muttered before turning to face Kate. ‘I have to go and make a call—do you mind?’
‘Not at all,’ she smiled, very conscious of the still-hovering waiter.
‘We’ll talk about North America when I get back.’ He stood up to place a light kiss on her lips. ‘I don’t intend letting you escape me, Katharine Mary Collins.’
She had smiled tautly until he was out of the room, then she had sprung into action, hurriedly leaving the dining-room to pay her bill and collect her luggage, leaving the hotel before Jared realised she had gone, little dreaming that he would trace Kate Collins back to Kate Collier, never dreaming that he would want to.
What she had done, spending two days with a complete stranger, was out of character for her, an impetuous need for emotional reassurance after Brian had let her down so callously, but she doubted it was out of character for Jared. There was an experience about him that couldn’t be denied, a knowledge of women that had been infinitely satisfying but which spoke of relationships with many different women. At the thirty-four she knew him to be that wasn’t surprising, but she had known only one man before him, the man who had been the reason for her need to get away from London and all the well-meaning friends who would pity her to her face and laugh at her behind her back. What Brian had done, using her until someone more useful came along, was one of the oldest tricks in the book; and she had been so much in love she hadn’t even realised what he was doing.
But Jared Rourke wasn’t really her type, he had just been available when she needed him, and she didn’t want to see him again. Once he was ‘living on his wits’ in North America he would realise she wasn’t his type either.
* * *
She had really thought Jared would realise that, that she would never see him again. She certainly hadn’t expected him to turn up at her flat, and not tonight of all nights. He had almost ruined everything. He still could; she doubted she had seen the last of Jared Rourke—even if he had gone to see Gill!
She couldn’t believe he actually had the audacity to go through with that—could she? She could believe anything of him! She could even believe he would persuade Gill into believing she knew him …!
‘Darling?’
She turned to find Richard frowning at her. They had stopped at the restaurant and the doorman was waiting for them to get out of the car. ‘Sorry,’ Kate forced a bright smile, dragging herself back to the present, to the man at her side, the man she had decided to marry. ‘I’m hungry, aren’t you?’ she prompted lightly, stepping out of the car.
She swept into the restaurant at Richard’s side, aware that they attracted considerable attention as they moved through the room to their table. Richard was a well-known personality in the City. And she knew that some of the attention was directed at her, that her elegant beauty attracted admiration. It wasn’t ego that told her this, it was Richard himself. He had a reputation for escorting only beautiful women, and they had been seeing each other for almost two months now.
‘C
hampagne,’ he ordered imperiously of the wine waiter as he came to take their order, selecting a good year automatically, his knowledge of wines being as polished as the rest of him. ‘To us,’ he toasted her with warm brown eyes once their champagne had been poured. ‘You realise you’ve made me the happiest man in London?’
‘Only in London?’ she taunted huskily.
‘In the whole world,’ he laughed softly, reaching into the pocket of his black dinner jacket to pull out a small black velvet ring-box. ‘Can I place this ring on your finger, darling?’ He opened the box to reveal a huge diamond set on a platinum band.
For only a brief moment Kate hesitated, then she held out her hand, putting both Brian and Jared out of her mind as Richard placed the ring on the third finger of her left hand.
CHAPTER TWO
RICHARD JAMES had become a customer of her agency six months ago, and had begun to pursue her immediately, the advertising they were doing for his numerous high-class clothing stores for women giving him a good excuse for seeing Kate often.
But six months ago Brian Linton had been very much a part of her life, and her rebuffs to Richard, although polite, had been exactly that.
But she had made a decision three months ago, and she had stuck to it. Brian had found himself a rich woman to marry, so she would marry well too. When she got back to London three months ago Richard had been in Europe on a promotional tour, but as soon as he returned last month she had shown him, without being too obvious, that she was no longer averse to his attentions. With a sophistication she had soon learnt was second nature to him he had begun a slow wooing, starting with flowers and small gifts, working up to the suggestion of a casual evening together to discuss his advertising. The subject of advertising hadn’t been mentioned once during the whole evening, and when he asked to see her again she had willingly agreed. The wooing no longer went slowly after that. Yesterday he had asked her to marry him, and once again Kate hadn’t hesitated.
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