left him.
The thought gave her no pleasure. He might have all the trappings of wealth, perhaps even more money than he knew what to do with, but was he truly happy? ‘Have you married again?’ she asked bluntly. There was no ring on his finger either, and there’d been no beauty hanging on to his arm. Surely there would have been if he’d got either a wife or a girlfriend?
‘I’ve had no time,’ he answered, slanting a tight, smiling glance in her direction.
‘You’re married to money—is that it?’ she enquired, keeping her voice honey sweet and her eyes on the road in front of them. It annoyed her that simply by looking at him he disturbed her senses.
He was one of that band of men who could turn a woman’s head without even trying. He had certainly turned hers—quite magnificently! She had thought herself the luckiest girl in the world when he’d asked her to marry him.
‘Money isn’t my slave, if that’s what you’re suggesting,’ he answered smoothly. ‘I enjoy being successful, I admit that, and I enjoy being able to go anywhere or do anything, but it isn’t the be all and end all of my life.’
‘So why haven’t you remarried?’ she asked, turning to look at him as his lips gave a rueful smile. ‘It can’t be because there’s a shortage of women in your life.’
‘Of course not,’ he answered smoothly. ‘I could have my pick of maybe a dozen girls at any one time—it comes with the territory.’ He shot her a sharply dangerous glance. ‘But it’s not worth it. I learned my lesson many years ago.’
‘Are you suggesting that I flung myself at you?’ Keisha’s tone was indignant. If anyone had done the pursuing it had been Hunter. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed the chase!
‘You’re saying that you didn’t drop that file deliberately?’ he asked. ‘Come on, Keisha, it’s the oldest trick in the book. Of course I didn’t realise it at the time, but…’ He gave a tiny shrug and let his words fade into thin air.
‘Would I have walked out on you if I’d married you for your money?’ Keisha asked with a questioning stare. ‘I don’t think so, Hunter. You’re talking rubbish.’
It was a relief when they pulled up outside her house. It was a two-up-and-two-down terraced property, very modest but very comfortable, and her mother had loved it.
‘Thank you for the lift,’ she said, opening the door and scrambling out almost before he had stopped the car. ‘You won’t forget to tell Gillian that I’ve come home?’
‘I’m sure she carries her mobile, you’d best call her yourself,’ he said drily, sliding out the other side and following her up the short path.
‘You don’t have to see me in,’ declared Keisha in panic. This was the very last thing she wanted. She had left the party to get away from Hunter, not have him pressing further attentions on her.
‘A gentleman would never allow a lady to enter an empty house alone.’
Keisha put her key in the lock and opened the door a few inches, but before she could tell him that she was safe and he could go his hand reached over her shoulder and pushed the door wider. With his other hand in the small of her back, he urged her inside.
‘There is absolutely no need for this,’ she insisted, tossing her head in desperation. ‘As you can see, all’s well. You can go back to your party.’
But Hunter had other ideas. His smile was cruel. ‘We’re long overdue a serious conversation. Have you any idea how I felt when you walked out on me?’
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ Keisha flashed desperate green eyes. ‘You and I have nothing further to say to each other. I thank you for the lift, but now I want you to go.’
‘Are you going to make me?’ He folded his arms across his broad chest and dared her to challenge him. He was all male, strong and indomitable, and Keisha knew that she was fighting a losing battle.
She heaved a sigh of despair. ‘You’re wasting your time. You know the reason I left. We can do nothing but go over old ground.’
‘Then it’s old ground we go over,’ he answered simply.
There was no entrance hall at the property. The door led straight into a living room filled with old but much loved furniture. It was small, but felt even smaller with Hunter inside. ‘Please, sit down,’ she said faintly. ‘I’ll make us some coffee.’
She needed breathing space. He filled it with his presence, leaving her nowhere to hide.
Hunter needed no second bidding. Off came his dinner jacket and bow tie, and the top three buttons of his shirt were undone before he relaxed into an old leather chair.
Keisha gave an inward groan. She hadn’t meant to give him an invitation to make himself comfortable. The matter was getting out of hand; he looked as though he was ready to stay for hours.
She gritted her teeth and fled the room.
When she returned Hunter’s head had dropped back and his eyes were closed. Heaven forbid that he was asleep, she thought. From experience she knew that he was a heavy sleeper; there would be no getting rid of him. He would be here the whole night!
But as she put the cups down on a side table Hunter opened heavy eyelids. His slow smile was predatory, and uneasiness sent a chill down her spine. He had something in mind and she had no idea what.
She perched on the edge of a chair, as far away from him as she could get in this tiny room, and waited.
‘You look as though you’re afraid of me,’ he said. ‘Why is that, I wonder?’
‘Because you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have some ulterior motive.’
An eyebrow rose. ‘Don’t you think you’re being fanciful?’ And he paused before adding, ‘As I said before, I’m merely being a gentleman.’
Keisha’s lips twisted into a disbelieving smile. ‘Seeing me home was gentlemanly, but making yourself comfortable is not. You’re not welcome here, Hunter.’
‘As you’ve made very clear,’ he acknowledged. ‘But surely a little conversation over a cup of coffee is nothing to worry about?’
It was when the man was Hunter Donahue!
‘Why are you showing such an interest in me after all this time?’ she asked, picking up her cup and saucer and holding on to them as though they were a lifeline. She needed a barrier between them—a brick wall would have been preferable! He was unnerving her with his intense blue eyes and thoughtful stare.
‘I didn’t expect you to walk out on me—not after our conversation,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t a very adult thing to do, was it? Unless, of course, there was some other reason that you left?’ His voice sharpened, became crisp and suspicious. ‘Something—or maybe someone—you didn’t tell me about?’
‘I simply couldn’t put up with your lifestyle,’ she flared. Had he no idea how abandoned she’d felt? Or how hurt she’d been? Or how foolish she’d felt for agreeing to marry him in the first place when he was so far out of her league? Her
