A Passionate Affair. Anne Mather

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at him, she could feel every inch of her skin tingling.

      He stood after closing the car door, inspecting his surroundings, and Cassandra guessed he was looking for her office. For an anxious moment she didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t seen her, that much was obvious, and she knew a ridiculous impulse to rush back up the steps and lock the door, before he noticed her. But that would have been silly and childish, and besides, she was taking it for granted he was coming to see her. He might not be, and in any case she was on her way out. Even so, it took a certain amount of courage to continue on down the steps as if she hadn’t recognised him, when every step she took seemed to echo horribly in the quiet mews.

      He heard her at once, and the dark eyes she remembered so well fastened on her slender figure, his mouth curving into a wry smile as he came towards her.

      ‘Mrs Roland,’ he acknowledged her easily, as she reached the cobbled yard. ‘This is a coincidence. I was just coming to see you.’

      ‘You were?’ Cassandra assumed a cool smile of enquiry.

      ‘Yes.’ He inclined his head. Even in her heeled boots he was taller than she was, and it gave him a slight advantage. ‘Didn’t your mother-in-law tell you? I tried to phone you last night.’

      Cassandra thought quickly. ‘It—er—it’s Mr Ravek, isn’t it?’ she exclaimed, ignoring his mildly incredulous intake of breath. ‘Why, yes. Yes, Thea did say something about a call.’

      Jay Ravek’s eyes revealed his scepticism. Looking into their definitely mocking depths, Cassandra was left in no doubt as to his disbelief in the part she was playing, and remembering how his name had slipped out the day before, perhaps he could not be blamed for that.

      Wanting—needing—to restore her credibility, Cassandra hastened on: ‘I was just going to lunch, but if there’s anything we can do for you, perhaps you could come back—–’

      ‘I was hoping to persuade you to have lunch with me,’ he interrupted her smoothly, and the frankness of his approach left her briefly speechless.

      ‘You—were hoping—–’ she got out, when she was able to drag sufficient air into her lungs, and once again he took the initiative.

      ‘Yes.’ He glanced round at his car. ‘I was reliably informed that you didn’t usually go out for lunch, but it seems my informant was mistaken.’

      The hooded dark eyes were on her again, mildly amused now but interrogative, mocking her belief that she could handle any situation. She felt he could see right through her, and through any little ploy that she might use. He was not like Mike. He was not like any man she had known before. He was a totally new experience.

      ‘Was he?’ he asked at last.

      ‘Was he—what?’ She felt disorientated.

      ‘Was my informant wrong? Do you normally go out to lunch?’

      Cassandra took a deep breath. ‘Why did you ring me, Mr Ravek? What do you really want?’

      ‘You,’ he declared, without scruple, and as her eyes widened with incredulity, he added: ‘But first I must apologise if I’ve caused you any embarrassment. I had no idea you and your mother-in-law lived in the same building.’

      She gazed at him. ‘I don’t see the relevance.’

      ‘Don’t you?’ He shrugged. ‘No, well, perhaps not. You are in business, after all. You must get a lot of calls.’

      She drew a deep breath. ‘Is this business, Mr Ravek?’

      His mouth turned down. ‘I think you know better than that.’

      Cassandra gasped. ‘Are you always so direct?’

      ‘Would you prefer a different kind of approach?’

      She shook her head. ‘It’s not something I’m familiar with,’ she said blankly. ‘Mr Ravek—–’

      ‘Jay,’ he corrected her briefly. Then: ‘Look, it’s too cold to talk here. Do you have an appointment, or will you let me buy you lunch?’

      Cassandra shivered, suddenly becoming aware of her surroundings again. ‘I don’t think—–’

      ‘Why not?’ His lean face revealed a trace of irritation. ‘You know you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the press.’

      ‘I don’t.’ That much was true. But Liz had been so vehement. ‘I just—–’

      ‘What harm can eating lunch with me do?’ he interposed swiftly. ‘I don’t bite, and I do know my table manners!’

      Cassandra half smiled. ‘I’m sure you do.’

      ‘Is that a grudging acceptance?’

      She made a decision. ‘All right.’

      ‘Good.’ He gestured towards his car. ‘Shall we go?’

      Her determination wavered. Her impulsive consent to eat with him had not taken into account the method of getting to a restaurant, and somehow his car seemed such an intimate form of transport after what he had said. After all, what did she know about this man? Nothing that was good, certainly.

      He seemed to sense her uncertainty, however, and his expression twisted into an ironic smile. ‘You can trust me,’ he said flatly. ‘I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Now, can we get moving?’

      Cassandra gave in, and at her nod of acquiescence, Jay Ravek swung open the nearside door of the vehicle and waited while she got inside. His own entry was accomplished with the ease of long practice, and after settling his length behind the wheel, he started the engine.

      As they turned out of the mews, Cassandra spared a thought for Chris, realising she should have left him a message telling him where she was going. But to suggest doing so now would smack of over-caution, and she could well imagine Jay Ravek’s interpretation of her leaving some explanatory note.

      The car was soon bogged down in the lunchtime snarlups, and feeling the need to clarify her position, Cassandra endeavoured to make light conversation. What he had said earlier, about his reasons for ringing her, didn’t seem credible somehow, and linking her hands together in her lap, she introduced the usual topics of weather and traffic.

      His responses were monosyllabic as he concentrated on negotiating the busy streets, but once they had a clear stretch of road, he cast a lazy glance in her direction.

      ‘You knew I’d ring, didn’t you?’ he remarked, disturbing her anew. ‘What did your mother-in-law tell you?’

      Cassandra bent her head. ‘Oh, only that you’d rung. As you said, she thought you were a client. Only most people ring the studio.’

      ‘Most men?’

      Cassandra looked up indignantly. ‘Most clients,’ she corrected him shortly, and Jay inclined his head.

      ‘But you did know?’

      Cassandra schooled her features. ‘How could I?’

      ‘I

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