they’re going the wrong way about it,’ he declared loudly over the din. ‘They’re hardly likely to engender sympathy by stopping tired people getting home from work.’
Patches of colour suffused the pale yet flawless skin across her cheekbones. ‘Nor will they if they lie down and put up with everything the establishment dishes out!’
As she had refused to do? The thought rose unbidden in his mind, because, however she had behaved, there was no doubt that Ranulph Bouvier had ruled her with a will of iron, as he did everyone under him—his household staff, his work colleagues, his management. And, looking at the slender girl who stirred him in ways he was ashamed to admit to, and whose rebellious nature seemed too strong for her worryingly fragile appearance, he couldn’t help but understand how smothered she must have felt by it.
‘I’m surprised you aren’t there—’ Kane’s chin jerked upwards ‘—leading the procession.’
‘I might have been, only I had—’ Her attention was distracted by something farther along the street.
Kane followed her gaze to where a group of young men were shouting and pushing one another outside one of the cafés.
‘Only you had what?’ he prompted, and then, unable to hold back the derision, ‘Something more exciting to do?’
For a few seconds those blue eyes of hers seemed to darken—impale him. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ she returned with a defiant toss of her head, her smile artificially sweet. ‘I was—’
Something shot past them at shoulder level; an empty cola can, falling onto the ground behind her with a hollow clatter. It sent flares of danger shooting through Kane’s blood.
‘I think it’s time we got out of here,’ he urged.
Surprisingly, though, she shrugged away the hand clutching her elbow. ‘I don’t think I need—’ she started to say, but her sentence was punctuated by a small cry as a piece of jagged wood glanced across her forehead. ‘Ohh!’
As she crumpled, Kane’s arm shot out around her bare middle. He couldn’t contain the vehement little oath as he caught her, holding her upright. She felt as light as a sparrow against his own strength. ‘Are you all right?’
For a few split seconds everything looked as squidgy as the liquid in a plastic water bottle.
‘Shannon!’ Kane’s worried command fell hazily across her semi-dazed senses, like a shaft of light through a long, dark tunnel. She nodded and heard his heavily drawn sigh of relief.
‘Now will you listen to me?’ He sounded angry again, which was much more in keeping.
‘Why are you angry? You’re always angry with me.’ The words escaped her as if she had had too much to drink. Perhaps, she thought, this was what they meant by punch-drunk.
‘Shut up and walk. You can walk, can’t you?’
‘Of course I can walk,’ she asserted as her spirits returned. What she didn’t think she could do, though, was put up with the sensuous warmth of that soft-sleeved arm around her bare middle. It made her want to lean against him, let him take control, wallow in the comfort and protection he offered as the only link with home. ‘I’m fine,’ she breathed in protest, striving mentally and physically to liberate herself. Physically was easier.
‘Come on, then,’ he insisted, soundly oddly hoarse as he took her elbow again and, grabbing the grubby canvas shoulder bag she had dropped as she’d staggered, propelled her in front of him, away from the imminent danger zone.
‘My orchid!’
She glanced back, saw it lying there, crushed and broken on the pavement.
‘Leave it!’ he ordered, and she felt the unexpected rush of foolish tears prick her eyes as he hustled her away.
At the end of the pedestrian thoroughfare, he was bundling her into a taxi.
‘Why are we going to the marina?’ she asked when he climbed in beside her, having heard him giving the driver their destination.
‘Because I came in on the boat.’ The car door slammed ominously shut behind him. ‘You can rest aboard until all this chaos dies down.’
‘The boat?’ A pulse in Shannon’s temples began to throb. What boat?
Seeing her frown, he smiled. ‘A mixture of business and pleasure,’ he told her as the taxi began nosing its way through the clogged street towards the harbour. ‘Fortunately most of the business has been taken care of, for today at least.’
She didn’t think she could handle this—being marooned with Kane Falconer in something so confining as a boat. Not that she was worried he would treat her with anything but his usual cool courtesy. It was just the unsettling intimacy that the whole thing implied.
‘I really think I should try and get home,’ she stressed, glancing anxiously back over her shoulder.
‘And just how do you propose to do that? On the bus? Or are you hoping for a cab with wings to get you back through town?’
He’d obviously assumed—and correctly—that she didn’t have her own transport. Her Porsche, like most of her possessions, had been left behind when she had fled England and the life she had been unable to face any more.
He had a point though, she thought, looking back again at the city’s gridlocked traffic. The scene behind them had turned frightening and, back beyond the waterfront, not a vehicle was moving, every bus, coach and taxi stuck with private and commercial vehicles in one impossible jam.
‘I can walk,’ she said.
‘With that bang on the head?’ Incredulity laced his words. ‘You feel up to that, do you?’
She wished she could say she did, but the truth was, she didn’t.
‘Why the rush?’ he asked a little more gently when she didn’t respond. ‘Do you have some hungry pet waiting at home?’
‘No.’
He laughed softly, sensing her lingering reluctance. ‘Don’t worry,’ he advised. ‘If you’ve got a date tonight, I’m sure we can get you back there before he thinks you’ve stood him up.’
‘Thanks,’ she snapped, averting her head so that the hot June sun shining through the open window played across the bright gold of her hair, accentuating the tense beauty of her profile.
‘Have you?’ he prompted suddenly.
‘Have I what?’
‘Got a date?’
Whatever his motive for asking, she was sure it wasn’t for any magnanimous reason like helping her to keep it, and quietly she responded, ‘I don’t see that that’s anything to do with you.’
They were crossing the bridge, the imposing monument of Columbus that dominated the skyline catching his attention for a moment.
‘You’re right, it isn’t,’ he said.
‘Why
