on a discreet balcony,’ said Joss demurely.
‘Alone?’ asked Hugh, grinning.
‘Of course not.’ She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Anyway, must dash—supper for two awaits. Thanks for a lovely party. See you soon.’ Joss hugged Anna, kissed Hugh’s cheek, then did the rounds, saying her goodbyes, made a detour to tidy herself up in a cloakroom, and at last took the lift down to the foyer, where a man in hotel livery ushered her outside to a waiting car.
‘You’re late,’ growled an impatient voice as she slid into the passenger seat.
‘Sorry. Couldn’t get away.’ Joss gave him her address with sudden reluctance, hoping this wasn’t a colossal mistake.
‘I’d begun to think you’d changed your mind,’ said Adam as he drove away.
He was very nearly right. ‘If so I would have sent a message,’ she said crisply.
‘Ah. A woman of principle!’
‘I try to be.’ Joss turned a long look on the forceful profile, and saw the wide mouth twist a little.
‘I hear you, Eve, loud and clear.’
‘Good. What happened to the friend, by the way?’
‘When told I was dining with a ravishing lady he sent me on my way with his blessing.’
Joss laughed. ‘You’re obviously very old friends.’
‘We’ve known each other all our lives.’
‘Like Anna and me.’ She sighed. ‘I just hope Hugh makes her happy.’
‘Is there any reason why he shouldn’t?’
‘None that I know of. I like him very much.’
‘Then it’s marriage itself you distrust?’
‘Not exactly. But Anna is so certain they’ll live happily ever after. And all too often people don’t.’
‘Leave your friend to her quite obviously besotted fiancé and concentrate on yourself, Eve.’
‘Thanks for the advice,’ she said tartly, and made polite small talk until they arrived at a modern apartment building sitting in surprising harmony with its Victorian Notting Hill neighbours.
Adam parked the car, then followed Joss into one of the lifts in the rather stark, functional foyer.
‘I live on the sixth floor,’ she said, feeling a definite qualm as the door closed to pen her in the small space with her large escort.
Adam frowned down at her. ‘You’re not comfortable with this, are you?’
‘Not entirely,’ she admitted.
He shrugged. ‘In which case I’ll just see you safely to your door and fade into the night.’
Joss felt sudden remorse. ‘Certainly not,’ she said firmly. ‘I invited you to supper so I’ll provide it.’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘Would you really have left me at my door?’
‘If you’d wanted that, yes. But with great reluctance.’ He pressed her hand in reassurance. ‘I keep my word, Eve.’
‘If I didn’t believe that I wouldn’t have invited you here,’ she assured him.
Inside the flat, Joss led her visitor past her closed bedroom door and switched on lights as she took him along a narrow hall into a sitting room with tall windows looking out over communal gardens. The room was large, with free-standing shelves crammed with books, and a pair of brass lamps perched precariously on the top shelf. Otherwise there was only a small sofa and a large floor cushion.
‘Please sit down,’ said Joss. Half empty or not, the room looked a lot smaller than usual with her visitor standing like a lighthouse in the middle of it. ‘Supper’s no problem because I did some shopping today. But I wasn’t expecting company so all I can offer you in the way of a drink is red wine—or possibly some whisky.’
‘Wine sounds good.’ Adam let himself down on the sofa, and stretched out his endless legs. ‘If it’s red it should breathe, so I’ll wait until the meal. Can I help?’
Joss shook her head, chuckling. ‘No room for giants in my kitchen. I’ll open the wine first, then throw a meal together. Shan’t be long.’
As she worked swiftly Joss decided she liked the look of her unexpected guest very much. Not handsome, exactly, but the navy blue eyes, dark hair and chiselled features appealed to her strongly. So did the air of confidence he wore as casually as his Savile Row suit. She tossed a green salad with oil and vinegar, carved a cold roast chicken, sliced and buttered an entire small loaf, and put a hunk of cheese on a plate. She shared the chicken salad between two dinner plates on a forty-sixty basis, put them on a tray with silver, napkins and glasses, added the bread, cheese and wine, and a bowl of fruit, then went back to the sitting room and put the tray on the floor.
Her guest swung round from his absorption in her bookshelves to smile at her. ‘A wide range of literature,’ he commented.
‘My main extravagance. Do sit down again.’ She smiled in apology as she poured the wine. ‘I’m afraid it’s a picnic. You may live to regret not having your hotel dinner.’
‘I doubt it.’ Adam received his plate with approval. ‘What could possibly be better than this?’ He looked up, the indigo eyes holding hers. ‘Thank you, Eve.’
‘My pleasure,’ she said lightly, then curled up on the floor cushion to eat her own meal, realising this was the truth. After resigning herself to a solitary evening, probably not even bothering to eat at all, the present circumstances were a vast improvement.
‘For me,’ said Adam, raising his glass to her in toast, ‘it’s a pleasure—and a privilege—I never anticipated when I first set eyes on you tonight.’
‘When was that?’
‘The moment I arrived. You stood out from the crowd.’
‘Because I’m tall,’ said Joss, resigned. ‘But how on earth did I come to miss someone of your dimensions?’
‘We were late. And it was the hair I noticed, not your height. You had your back to me, but you were facing a mirror. I could see that narrow face of yours framed in it, and wondered why the eyes were at such odds with the smiling mouth. The contradiction intrigued me.’
‘I’m glad I didn’t know,’ said Joss with feeling. ‘Rather like being caught on Candid Camera. I hope I was behaving myself?’
‘Of course you were. The perfect guest.’ Adam helped himself to more bread. ‘But I could tell you weren’t in party mood. I was surprised—and impressed—that you stuck it out so long.’
‘So you saw me disappear,’ said Joss thoughtfully.
He nodded. ‘At which point inspiration struck. At worst, I reasoned, you would send me packing.’
‘And
