the wrong. He had walked in with that woman draped all over him like poison ivy and now he was blaming her for putting two and two together and making five. She tilted her head back and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Your association with Miss Lapotiaze, or anyone else for that matter, is absolutely nothing to do with me,’ she said clearly. ‘Goodnight, Mr Blake.’ And she left him before he had a chance to react, walking as swiftly as her inordinately high heels would allow into the heart of the nightclub.
She had half-expected him to follow her or to try to catch hold of her again, but she reached the others without incident—apart from almost going headlong across the table as her heel caught in the hem of her dress at the last moment.
Her father and Joan smiled at her with the guilty look of two people who had just been whispering sweet nothings, and she smiled brightly back, wondering how soon she could make her excuses and leave. Why had she allowed Carter to get under her skin like that? she asked herself as she sipped at her coffee. No other man had ever affected her in such a way. Not that there had been many men in her past.
The coffee was burning her throat but she barely felt it, her whole body tuned as tight as piano wire. She had had plenty of dates before Gerard, of course, but she had always kept things casual, and even Gerard hadn’t actually broken her heart. Bruised it maybe, and crushed her pride into the ground, but she couldn’t in all honesty say she was devastated beyond measure by his betrayal.
Her eyes opened wide as the knowledge dawned that she was well and truly over him and it had only taken a matter of weeks. Was that awful? She considered the matter and then decided she didn’t care if it was. She was just so thankful she hadn’t gone the whole hog and slept with him as he had been nagging at her to do for the last couple of months of their relationship. She would have hated to be another notch on his worn-away bedpost. When, or maybe that should be if, she gave herself to a man she at least wanted it to mean something for both of them.
When she made her move to leave, her father insisted on coming with her to the entrance of the nightclub and standing with her while the doorman hailed her a cab. ‘Thanks for being so nice to Joan.’ He hugged her as he spoke, his voice thick. ‘Do you think it would be rushing it if I asked her to marry me soon? And I mean real soon,’ he added somewhat bashfully.
‘After twenty odd years?’ Liberty reached up and patted his face, her touch gentle. ‘Go for it, Dad, if you’re sure.’
‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.’
‘Then ask her. Life’s too short to dilly-dally.’
‘You’d come to the ceremony? It’ll only be a register office do, I suppose, but I’d like you there,’ he said urgently.
‘You try and keep me away,’ said Liberty as the black cab pulled up in front of them. ‘Now, go back to her and I’ll give you a ring in the morning. And thanks for a lovely evening.’
He stood and waved her off as he had done on countless occasions in the past, but this time they both knew it was different. The cab got held up at the traffic lights, and as Liberty turned and looked through the back window she saw him bound back into the club like a twenty-year-old.
She smiled to herself, glad for him and for Joan too, but somehow their delight in each other had made her restless. Or was it something else, someone else, who had caused her to feel all at odds with the world tonight? She frowned, loath to admit Carter Blake could have such an influence on her when she had only met him a few hours ago.
It wasn’t him, she had decided firmly by the time the cab had deposited her home. It was the whole day—seeing her mother, the accident, the awful afternoon at work and then encountering Carter again on an evening when her emotions had been running high anyway. A good night’s sleep and everything would be back in perspective again. Anything else was just not an option.
CHAPTER THREE
LIBERTY rang Carter Blake at nine o’clock the next evening. She figured that was late enough to suggest she hadn’t been champing at the bit, even though the wretched man had been at the forefront of her mind all day. She couldn’t remember an occasion when she had had to check and recheck her work—she was normally utterly focused and concentrated—but the day had been a nightmare of errors and slip-ups, and all because of one grey-eyed man who wouldn’t stay in the box she had designated for him in her mind. And she hated that. She really hated it.
She rang the land-line number he had given her rather than the mobile, praying that an answering machine would cut in enabling her to parrot off her details without speaking to him. At least that was what she told herself she was praying for, refusing to acknowledge the curling excitement in the pit of her stomach at the thought of hearing that rich, deep voice again.
It was with something of an anticlimax, therefore, when the phone was picked up at the other end and a female voice said, ‘Jennifer Blake. Can I help you?’
His mother? But the voice sounded too young. His wife? No, he hadn’t had the look of a man who was married. And then she told herself not to be so ridiculous. Women the whole world over were fooled by men who didn’t look or behave as though they were married! As her work proved daily.
Liberty cleared her throat carefully. ‘This is Liberty Fox. I’m ringing to—’
‘Oh, yes, Carter told me you might ring. Hang on a mo, I’ll just call him.’
‘No, that’s not necessary. If you’ll—’ But she was talking to thin air. She could hear someone calling Carter in the background and her heart increased its rapid beat until she felt as though it was banging against her ribcage.
There was a few seconds pause, and then she heard a click which meant an extension had been picked up. ‘Liberty?’ The deep voice sent goose pimples all over her body. ‘I’ve been waiting for your call.’
She wrinkled her brow. What did that mean? Was it just a polite way of starting the conversation or did he mean he really had been waiting to hear from her again? It was safer to assume the former. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got those details you wanted, Mr Blake,’ she said formally.
‘Carter.’ It was pleasant but firm.
‘I beg your pardon?’ She hoped she didn’t sound fluttery.
‘You’ve caused some scratches on my immaculate paintwork,’ he drawled easily. ‘The least you can do is to come down off your high horse and call me by name.’
She opened her mouth to reply but then he added, ‘And you can put the phone down in the hall now, Jen.’ There was no answer to this but the phone was replaced with a definite click. ‘My sister,’ he said mockingly. ‘My very nosy sister.’
‘Oh, right.’ For some reason she wasn’t sure of why she hadn’t thought of siblings. He seemed such a one-off somehow.
‘Now, perhaps you can start off by giving me your telephone number and address?’ The smoky voice was suddenly brisk and matter-of-fact and it took her by surprise.
‘Yes, of course.’ She rattled off the information, but when she got to the insurance details he stopped her.
‘I don’t need your registration number or insurance company, Liberty,’ he said quietly. ‘Not for a dinner date.’
Her heart gave up trying to escape through her chest and jumped up into her throat.
