introduce you to a couple of our new authors?’
‘Just circulate, I think,’ Charlotte said.
He kissed her hand. ‘In that case, help yourselves to some champagne and go mingle.’
As they obeyed, and were greeted by people Charlotte knew, she introduced her handsome escort with a feeling of pride. But though Rudy smiled and acknowledged each new acquaintance politely, it soon became obvious that he was ill at ease and hating every minute of it.
She was wondering why, as most of the conversation, far from being confined to books, was general and lively, when a sudden stir indicated the arrival of the Press.
‘Hell!’ Rudy muttered. It was a possibility he should have foreseen, but hadn’t.
‘What’s wrong?’ she breathed, seeing the hint of panic in his brown eyes.
‘Blasted photographers.’
‘I can’t imagine they’ll be long. It’s just a necessary spot of publicity.’
Turning his head, he whispered in her ear, ‘Mind if I vanish for a time? If my picture should happen to get into the papers the powers that be will discover I’m not where I’m supposed to be, and that could mean big trouble.’
Feeling guilty that he’d neglected his job to come with her, she whispered back, ‘Go by all means.’
He excused himself, and, putting his empty glass on the nearest table, disappeared into the crowd.
As though his exit had sparked it off, the little group they had been standing with began to break up. Some, hoping for their share of publicity, gravitated towards the photographers. Others drifted towards the adjoining room, where a buffet supper had been set out, and a piano was being played softly.
Deciding to wait where she was until Rudy came back, Charlotte accepted another glass of champagne and, setting her back against the wall, sipped it idly while she indulged in a spot of people-watching.
She was smiling, amused by the antics of the ones still trying to get their picture in the papers, when a frisson of awareness told her that she herself was being watched.
Standing in the shadows, Simon Farringdon thought that she was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. No wonder Rudy appeared to be completely besotted.
Even his host, whom he knew to be happily married, clearly wasn’t unaffected. Greeting him warmly, Anthony had said, ‘Great to see you. I thought you were still in New York.’
‘Just got back.’
‘Well, I’m delighted you could drop in. Help yourself to some champagne, and if you’re still looking for a perfect woman I’ll introduce you to Charlotte Christie. As well as being really nice, she’s a true beauty, with character. Unfortunately she already has a somewhat surly escort.’
‘I think in that case I’ll skip it,’ Simon had refused lightly. ‘You won’t want any unseemly brawls at your party.’
‘Charlotte is certainly the kind of woman men would fight over,’ Anthony had said.
And he hadn’t been far wrong, Simon realised now. That mouth and those wonderful eyes, upward-tilted at the outer corners, the prominent cheekbones and slightly hollowed cheeks, gave her the kind of haunting, poignant beauty that affected the spirit and senses and made willing slaves of men.
Or at least some men.
Though he could already feel a strong pull of sexual attraction, he had no intention of being one of them.
When Lucy—terrified that this time Rudy was engaged in something far more serious than his previous flings and might leave her—had begged for Simon’s help, his first thought had been to find the girl and pay her off.
It had come as a nasty shock to discover that Rudy’s latest amour and Maria’s granddaughter were one and the same.
Then all the pieces had clicked into place. The morning Rudy had called at the Hall he must have overheard enough to arouse his curiosity and set him off on the trail of Maria or her descendants.
He’d clearly lost no time, and now he had not only a beautiful lover—if lovers they were—but also one who would soon be worth a small fortune.
Poor Lucy.
Except that Rudy wasn’t going to get away with it, Simon vowed, no matter what it took, he would put an end to the affair.
The Press were departing now, and in the milling crowd Charlotte could see no one looking in her direction. But still the sensation persisted, like a cold breath of disquiet, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck, making her shiver.
Then, turning her head a little, she saw a man standing in deep shadow beyond the range of the flickering candles. He was watching her intently.
Just for an instant their eyes met.
She recoiled from the shock as though from a blow, so unnerved that if she hadn’t been in a room full of people, she would have turned on her heel and run…
‘Sorry I’ve been so long.’ Rudy materialised by her side. ‘I thought those blasted photographers would never go.’ Then, catching sight of her expression, ‘If you’re upset about it I can only—’
‘I’m not.’
‘You look upset.’
‘Not with you, honestly. It’s just that a strange man was staring at me.’
He laughed. ‘With looks like yours you ought to be used to men staring at you.’
‘This was different,’ Charlotte insisted.
‘So where is your strange man?’
‘Over there.’ She stopped abruptly; the shadowy corner where the man had been standing was empty. ‘He’s gone,’ she said stupidly.
‘So there’s nothing to worry about. He was no doubt thinking of coming over to chat you up, and when I appeared he changed his mind.’
If only she could believe that. But she couldn’t. Though she’d met the stranger’s glance for only a split-second, she knew there had been nothing light or flirtatious in the look. It had been as cold and piercing, as lethal, as a stiletto.
She shivered.
Seeing that involuntary movement, Rudy said in surprise, ‘You really have let it bother you.’
Then, deciding to seize his chance, he urged, ‘Look, we don’t have to stay for supper. You’re obviously not enjoying the evening, so suppose we get out of here and go back to my place?’
As she began to shake her head, he added, ‘If you’re hungry, we can always stop for a bite to eat on the way.’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ she said. ‘When you take me home, instead of just dropping me off, come in and I’ll cook you some supper.’
He
