by his touch, she said jerkily, ‘I’m really very sorry about all this…’
‘As my car hit yours, I’m the one who should be apologizing,’ he told her.
Honesty made her insist, ‘No, it was my fault. My mind was on other things and when I started to back out I hadn’t realised there was anyone else about.’
‘Rather than stand in the rain arguing,’ he said dryly, ‘I suggest that, for the moment at least, you allow me to accept the blame. Later, if necessary, we can always agree on six of one and half a dozen of the other.’
Opening the door of what, at close quarters, she could see was a top-of-the-range Porsche, he added briskly, ‘Now, before you get wet through, suppose you jump in and I’ll take you home.’
‘That’s very good of you, but I…’ Her words tailed off as, in the glow of his headlights, she recognised the dark, powerful face she had thought never to see again.
When, her wits scattered, her heart starting to race, she stood rooted to the spot, he said, ‘Is there a problem?’
When she didn’t immediately answer, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you don’t trust me?’
‘No…No, it’s not that.’
‘Then what is it?’
She blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘I—I was just wondering if I should try and move my car.’
‘Leave it where it is,’ he told her decidedly. ‘It shouldn’t be in anyone’s way and first thing tomorrow morning I’ll get my garage to tow it in and do the necessary repairs.
‘Now, is there anything you need out of it?’
‘A small case on the back seat.’
‘Jump in and I’ll get it.’
He had left the engine running and in a moment she was installed in the warmth and comfort of the most luxurious car she had ever been in.
Not even Maurice De Vere had a car in that class.
She found herself wondering what a visitor—and, as she had never seen either him or his car before, the dark-haired stranger must be a visitor—was doing in Cartel’s car park so late in the evening…
Her case deposited in the boot, he slid in beside her and reached to fasten both their seat belts. That done, he turned to her and, in the light from the dashboard, studied her face.
Embarrassed by his close scrutiny and only too aware that with wet, bedraggled hair and a shiny nose she must look an absolute fright, she felt her cheeks grow warm.
As though sensing her discomfort, he moved away a little and asked, ‘Where to?’
‘I—I don’t know,’ she stammered.
He raised a dark brow. ‘Amnesia?’
Knowing he was making fun of her and vexed with herself for losing her usual calm composure and acting like a fool, she took a deep breath and said crisply, ‘Certainly not.’
Pulling a mournful face, he observed, ‘Oh, dear…now you’re mad with me.’
For an instant she wavered between annoyance and amusement. Amusement won and she smiled.
Smiling back, he observed, ‘That’s better.’
His smile increased his charm a thousandfold and she found herself thinking that a lot of women would find him irresistible…
Suddenly becoming aware that he’d asked a question she hadn’t caught, she pulled herself together and said, ‘I’m sorry?’
‘I asked why don’t you know?’
Trying to be brief and succinct, she explained, ‘Well, the house I live in is being refurbished, which means my flat is un-inhabitable, and I’m staying with a friend…’
He listened, his dark eyes fixed on her face.
Thrown by the intentness of his gaze, she momentarily lost the thread.
Then, realising he was waiting, she carried on a shade distractedly, ‘Her boyfriend is in London and expecting to stay with her. But her flat is really only a bedsit, so you see I have to find a hotel.’
It seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity and, his thoughts racing, he said, ‘That shouldn’t be a problem. There are plenty of hotels in London. You don’t have any particular preference?’
‘No, anywhere will do…So long as it’s not too expensive,’ she added hurriedly.
But, judging by his clothes and his car, he wouldn’t have to consider expense, so he was hardly likely to know any of the cheaper places. And she couldn’t expect him to go touring London on her behalf when he’d already been held up and inconvenienced.
Recalling her earlier thought, she said, ‘I’m not sure if it’s still there, but there used to be a small hotel quite close to here, on Mather Street…I think it was called the Fairbourn…’
His well-marked brows drew together over a straight nose. ‘If it’s the place I’m thinking of, I wouldn’t say it was particularly prepossessing.’
So long as it was clean and respectable, she wasn’t in a position to be over-fussy. ‘As it’s only for three nights, I can manage.’
Three nights suited his purpose even better, he thought jubilantly.
Things had been going smoothly, but the business trip he’d been forced to take had cost him precious time and they had managed to trace her much faster than he’d anticipated.
Hence the sudden need for drastic action.
Which had worked so far, he reminded himself. But with so much at stake, he simply couldn’t afford to mess things up.
‘As the Fairbourn may well have closed down,’ he said smoothly, ‘and it’s hardly the sort of night to be touring the town in search of accommodation, I suggest you come home with me.’
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN, staggered, wondering what he had in mind, Tina simply stared at him, he repeated evenly, ‘Come home with me.’
Knowing what kind of woman she was, he hadn’t expected much in the way of opposition and was shaken when she said, as if she meant it, ‘I couldn’t possibly do that.’
‘Why not? There’s a perfectly good guest room standing empty.’
Though she was reassured by the mention of a guest room, there were other considerations. A mature man in his late twenties or early thirties, he might well be married. ‘Thank you,’ she began, ‘but I—’
‘It makes sense to come for tonight at least,’ he broke in decidedly. ‘Then tomorrow, if you want to move into a hotel, you’d have all day to find somewhere suitable.’
Rather
