by Liz Fielding
She turned, a slight frown flickering across her brow, and glanced at her watch. It was not quite six. A little early for callers.
‘Hello?’ she called.
There was a rustling as someone pushed through the slightly overgrown path.
‘Holly? Where the hell are you?’
Then she recognised the sharp impatience in the voice and her frown deepened. ‘David? What are you doing here?’
He ran a hand over a stubbly chin and grinned. ‘That’s not a very warm welcome, considering I’ve driven half the night to come and see you.’
‘Why on earth would you do that?’ she demanded, not at all happy at this unexpected arrival, certain that if David had driven overnight from Maybridge it would only be for his benefit.
‘Give me a cup of that tea and I’ll tell you.’
‘I’ll make some fresh,’ she said, ‘but I wish you’d called to let me know you were coming.’
‘Thus speaks the woman who wouldn’t have a telephone in the house at any price.’ He glanced at the facade of Highfield and pulled a face. ‘Clearly that’s not all that’s changed. The ‘snags’ have all been ironed out, have they?’
She gave an embarrassed little shrug. ‘I thought the legacy was a mistake.’
‘Did you? Why?’ It was the offhand, casual manner of the question that immediately alerted her to the fact that he sensed a story. There would be a long pause. Someone less wary would fall into it, pouring out their soul rather than listen to the uncomfortable silence.
‘Are you coming in?’ she asked, and he grinned, quite unashamed at being found out, and followed her into the house.
‘I did telephone, by the way. Yesterday afternoon and all evening. Perhaps you should go the whole hog and have an answering machine now you’ve finally given up the cleft stick and succumbed to the age of communication.’
‘And make things easy for you? Besides, I like the post. People think twice about what they have to say when they have to write.’ She led the way through to the kitchen and put the kettle on. ‘Eggs, bacon?’
‘Please.’ He threw an envelope down on the central island. ‘I’ve brought you a few cuttings about your precious Joshua Kent. It’s mostly old stuff. I did warn you that he’s a very private man.’ He plumped himself down on a stool.
‘I didn’t ask you for them,’ she pointed out. ‘And why the desperate rush down here yourself? A stamp would have brought them by Monday.’
David looked slightly awkward. ‘When I was digging about I stumbled across something. Something I think your Mr Kent will have to talk to me about, whether he likes reporters or not.’
Her hand shook as she cracked an egg into a bowl and the yolk broke.
‘He doesn’t like reporters?’ she asked, glaring at him. ‘I wonder why?’
David didn’t seem to notice her sharp, cynical tone. ‘I want to ask him about Ashbrooke Leisure.’
‘Ashbrooke Leisure?’ she repeated, before she could stop herself. ‘What do you know about that?’
‘Not as much as you, evidently.’ She hated the glint of triumph in his eyes. ‘He’s on the brink of a takeover unless I’m very much mistaken.’ The rising excitement in his voice came to an abrupt halt as he saw her face, but he couldn’t resist adding, ‘An interview with him will give me just the chance I need to get out of the provinces and crack the nationals.’
She turned her back on him, rinsed out the teapot and put in a couple of teabags, then fetched the milk. Ordinary everyday things to shut out unwanted thoughts. ‘I’m sure you’ll do very well on one of the less attractive tabloids.’
‘Thanks.’
‘That was not a compliment,’ she said sharply.
‘No. But I’m working on my thick skin,’ he replied, an edge to his voice.
‘Keep practising, David. You’re obviously going to need it.’ She turned to face him, knowing that angry red patches would be staining her cheeks. ‘I don’t know what you want, David, but I have no influence with Mr Kent. If you want to speak to him I suggest you telephone his office.’
‘Have you ever tried to get past that iron-clad secretary of his?’
‘No,’ she said tersely.
‘No.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I imagine she has orders to put you straight through.’
‘I couldn’t say. I’ve never telephoned him.’
He didn’t appear to be convinced.
‘Look, Holly, I understand how it is. He’s the sort of man that would turn any girl’s head.’ His voice was cajoling. ‘But you’re not stupid. It’s in your own interests to know what he’s up to before you get too deeply—’
‘David!’ she protested, her hands so tight on the plate she’d taken from the rack that it was a miracle it didn’t break in two. ‘I have no influence with him. I can’t make him talk to you.’
‘I really think you should try.’ She hid her confusion, her uncertainty in a flurry of activity, checking the bacon, beating the eggs. She had wanted the truth and now it was being offered to her she was refusing to listen in case it confirmed all her worst fears.
It was stupid and feeble-minded. She stopped the frantic bustle and sank on to a kitchen stool and faced him.
‘You’d better tell me what you’ve found out.’
‘You won’t be sorry,’ he said, reaching across to take her hand. She withdrew it sharply. He was wrong, she thought; she was sorry already. But, having won his point, he was in no hurry. He ran his hand over his face.
‘Look, this’ll take some time. Do you mind if I clean up a bit first? I’ve been driving for hours.’
Having decided to face whatever had to be endured, she would rather have got it over with as quickly as possible, but he looked rough and she said, ‘Up the stairs, first door on the left. Don’t take too long, or your breakfast won’t be worth eating and I won’t do it again.’
She stood over the eggs, stirring them carefully, all the time aware of the manila envelope lying on the kitchen island behind her.
David had not reappeared by the time they were done, so she dished up and put the plate in the oven to keep warm. Then she wiped her hands and propped herself on one of the kitchen stools, unable to put off the moment any longer.
The envelope wasn’t sealed and she pulled out the thick wad of paper. Photocopies of news-clips. She glanced at the headline on the first one.
“STAR IN NIGHTCLUB BRAWL”
‘I see my sins have found me out.’ Joshua’s voice was so close that Holly physically jumped and the newspaper clippings scattered at her feet as she turned to him. So intent had her thoughts been on the man that she might have conjured him up out of the ether. But he didn’t look at all ethereal.
In dark tailored shorts that revealed a pair of tanned, well-muscled legs and a soft open-necked shirt he looked altogether touchable and, as if to prove it, he bent and kissed her, his lips warm and enticing, sending the blood racing crazily through her veins. He smiled lazily at her.
‘Good morning, Holly.’
‘You frightened the life out of me, creeping up on me like that,’ she scolded, trying to cover her confusion.
‘Did I?’ He was not in the least contrite. In fact, the creases at the corners of his mouth and eyes deepened if anything. ‘Then you shouldn’t leave your front door wide open. I did knock, but you were so interested in my past misdemeanours that you obviously didn’t hear.’
His eyes travelled the length of her throat, apparently fascinated by the deep bare V of skin exposed by her bathrobe.
‘Misdemeanours?’ She wrapped the bathrobe around her in a self-conscious gesture, tightening the belt, reminded by his warm gaze that she was quite naked beneath it. ‘What are you talking about?’
He bent down and picked up the news clippings, raising his eyes to meet hers. The amusement died in them and they blanked. ‘Or perhaps I’m mistaken.’ He stood up and threw the cuttings down beside her, the change in his voice so marked that her head jerked back in sharp surprise. ‘You�
�ve obviously had other things to occupy your mind.’
‘Joshua?’ She turned to follow his eyes and saw David in the doorway, his hair wet from the shower, wearing nothing but a thick white towel that he was holding around his waist, and making a brave attempt to hide his dismay as he realised that the one man in the world he was determined to talk to had caught him without his trousers on. He tried a smile. There was no response from the unyielding features of Joshua Kent.
‘This is a bit awkward.’ David threw a glance at Holly, hoping for rescue.
But Holly was unable to help, rigid with shock at what Joshua must be thinking.
‘Is it?’ Joshua threw into an atmosphere so thick with tension that the words almost bounced off it. ‘I’m sure it would help if you put some clothes on.’
‘I would, but my bag is in the car.’
Holly made a move to fetch it, but Joshua’s hand on her shoulder kept her pinned to her seat. ‘Allow me,’ he said dangerously. ‘Is the boot unlocked?’
‘Yes,’ David said unhappily. ‘I’m parked around the back somewhere. I wasn’t sure where I was going.’
‘You seem to be doing well enough to me.’ He didn’t wait for an answer and without even glancing at Holly he turned and strode from the kitchen.
‘Well,’ David dropped into the silence that followed his departure, ‘that’s a bit of luck.’ He glanced sideways at Holly. ‘Now he’ll have to talk to me.’
‘Eat your breakfast, David, and be quiet.’ She banged a plate down in front of him, stuffed the cuttings back in their envelope and left the kitchen, in urgent need of some clothes herself.
When she descended fifteen minutes later, her hair brushed and fastened back from her face by a large tortoiseshell clip, wearing a pair of long cream shorts and a chocolate T-shirt, it was to find Joshua alone in the kitchen pouring himself a cup of tea. He glanced up at her entrance.
‘Where’s David?’ she asked stiffly as she saw the untouched breakfast.
‘Gone to get dressed, I imagine. He suggested that it would be in my best interest to talk to him and then, quite suddenly, remembered that he needed a shave.’
‘What have you done to him?’ she demanded. ‘He’d only just arrived, for heaven’s sake.’
‘I know. His engine was still warm.’
‘Still…’ She exploded. ‘That’s why you were so keen to fetch his bag. To check whether he had been here all night. Did you actually think that I would welcome him?’ She couldn’t even say it, she was so angry. ‘After last night?’
He leaned back against the sink, his face impassive. ‘If he’d turned up last night, just after I’d gone, I think he would have tried to take advantage of the situation. Or maybe you’re going to tell me that he wouldn’t do anything so underhand?’
‘Then you shouldn’t have gone,’ she snapped and her face flamed. ‘I didn’t ask him to come, Joshua.’ She had to warn him. ‘It’s you he’s after. Apparently he’s found out about Ashbrooke Leisure.’
‘So he said. He wants an exclusive on the takeover.’
‘The takeover.’ As the reality of what it meant struck home, she thought she might be sick. ‘It’s true then?’
‘Everything was signed yesterday afternoon. Luigi is now the proud owner of the Hall and I have a new company so I’m afraid that if that’s his scoop David has come galloping after cold news.’
‘But are you…? Do you intend to develop Highfield?’
‘Would it matter?’ he asked, and the importance of her answer was all too evident in the intensity of his expression.
She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Joshua. I’m rather afraid it would. If you’ve bought the company on the expectation of profits from Highfield, I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake. I won’t sell. You should have let me sign the contract in France when I didn’t care, instead of making me come home to do it.’
‘If I’d had the slightest intention of allowing you to sell Highfield, my dear Holly, I would have done just that.’
‘If… Oh, Joshua,’ she exclaimed. ‘What have you done?’
‘Done, my dear? I’ve sold a house I had no use for and bought a business that I intend to expand. One deal to finance another. One way or another I expect to make a great deal of money.’
A movement in the doorway alerted them to the fact that they were no longer alone.
‘Can I quote you on that, Mr Kent?’ David Grantham enquired brazenly as he sauntered into the kitchen.
‘David!’ Holly warned, fierce as any vixen defending her cubs, and Joshua glanced at her in surprise before turning his full attention on the man on the other side of the room.
His expression hardened. ‘Quote me at your peril, Mr Grantham.’ David barely flinched despite the lash in the other man’s voice.
‘Or what?’ he demanded recklessly. ‘You’re not fireproof, Mr Kent, I already have a national newspaper ready to back me with this story and I’ve seen enough this morning to know I have got a story. Now I’m simply giving you an opportunity to make a statement before I go to press.’
‘I can’t think of anything that would excite such interest.’ The chill factor in Joshua’s voice dipped to sub-zero. ‘Perhaps you would care to enlighten me.’
‘An executor taking advantage of a vulnerable young woman who has just inherited a valuable estate is bad enough, Mr Kent—’ David’s voice rose in triumph ‘–but when he’s clearly seduced her to achieve his ends…’ He glanced from Holly, white with shock, to the glacial features of Joshua Kent. ‘I think you take my point?’ He sat down at the breakfast bar, produced a small tape recorder from his pocket and switched it on.
‘Now, what would you like to say to my readers?’
CHAPTER NINE
FOR a moment nothing happened. Then David was hanging from Joshua’s fist by his shirt-front.
‘I think, Grantham,’ he said, with paralysing insistence, ‘you’d better go. Or it’s quite possible that you will be the subject of your own front page.’
‘Joshua…’
‘Stay out of this Holly.’
‘I think it’s a little late for that,’ she said, and with a little lift of her chin she went on quickly, before she could think twice, ‘and in this case I’m quite capable of defending my own reputation.’
He brushed this aside and continued to glare at David with extreme prejudice. ‘You don’t have to. We both know that. But there’s nothing like a little sex to sell newspapers and this creature won’t care who gets hurt so long as he has a story.’ He gave David a little shake. ‘Will you, Mr Grantham? Tell the lady the truth.’ David opened his mouth, but never had an opportunity to tell Holly anything.
‘The truth, Joshua,’ she declared, interrupting with biting resolution, her eyes blazing with fury that either of them should feel entitled to exclude her from something that involved her so personally. ‘The truth is that if he prints one word of that story I will sue him and his newspaper until they retract in headlines a foot high.’ She took a deep breath as both men turned to her in astonishment. But she hadn’t finished. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done, Joshua. Frankly, it no longer matters, since I have no intention of selling Highfield to you or anyone else. But I will not have anyone believing I’m so pathetically weak-willed that I could be seduced out of anything.’
Joshua frowned and let David down rather suddenly, having apparently forgotten him in his concern for her.
‘No, Holly.’ He took her by the shoulders, gripping her painfully, all fierce protectiveness. ‘They’ll destroy you if you take them on. Tear you to shreds.’
‘Let them try. If necessary I’ll prove them liars.’ She lifted her chin, two bright spots of pink staining her cheeks. ‘I can do that, I assure you.’
‘Prove?’ For a moment he stared at her in disbelief. Then he swore softly.
David cleared his throat. ‘I think I’d better go.’
Joshua glanced at him, then at the plate of cold scrambled egg and congealing bacon. ‘Sit dow
n, Grantham, and eat your breakfast; you’re not going anywhere until I’ve talked to you.’ It was not an invitation that could be refused and David sank unhappily back on to the stool. Then Joshua turned to Holly and took her arm quite firmly, his mouth compressed into a hard, straight line. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with some fresh air.’
He led her out into the garden and they walked along the cliff top where the breeze was blowing, fresh and cool from the sea.
‘What will you do to him?’ Holly asked, tentative in the face of such implacable fury.
He glanced at her and relaxed sufficiently for his lip to curve into a cynical smile. ‘I ought to throw him off the cliff.’
Encouraged, she said, ‘If you do that I’ll have to find another lodger. Whatever else David might be, he pays the rent on time.’
‘Sell the damned house and then you wouldn’t have to worry about it.’ At her stricken expression he stiffened. ‘Oh, don’t fret. I won’t damage the man. I’ll give him his interview, one that should be enough to make his career, even without the prurient side-interest of my sex life.’
‘You don’t have to do that. I’m very angry with him.’
‘Are you? Why? You asked him to check up on me.’
‘No, Joshua, I didn’t. I telephoned him to let him know I was home, that was all. He’s jealous, I can see that, although heaven knows why. I’ve never given him the slightest encouragement. In fact he used to regularly bring his girlfriends home for the night.’
‘And recently?’
‘Well, he’s stayed in a lot more…’ She sighed. ‘Oh, I see. I didn’t realise. A bit slow-witted of me.’
‘Perhaps, but if he’s that keen on you, what’s he playing at?’
‘He clearly thinks you’re trying to cheat me in some way. And I’m afraid that is my fault. I mentioned Ashbrooke Leisure wanted to buy the house and he had found out you were taking them over. Put the two together and it reeks of something a bit nasty in the woodshed.’
‘Do you think I would cheat you, Holly?’
‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘that you’d better explain exactly what’s been going on. Is there a buyer for Highfield or not?’