sent him a wide-eyed look. ‘Why, the late Sonia Randall, of course. Can’t you get her better-trained, darling?’ She sent him an impish grin. ‘Although I suppose punctuality’s hardly her most appealing attribute where you’re concerned.’
Mark reached for a tress of her dark curling hair and tugged it gently. ‘Behave.’ He looked across at Tallie. ‘However, I do apologise for this delay. Will the food be ruined?’
‘No.’ She turned away, putting the jar of oregano back in the cupboard. ‘It—it’s very good-natured.’
‘Unlike dear Sonia,’ Penny added. ‘So how is it she’s joining us tonight at some point? What happened to Maggie? I liked her.’
‘Working in Brussels for three months.’
‘Well, Caitlin, then?’
‘Got engaged to her boss.’
‘Decided to cut her losses, eh?’ Penny enquired dulcetly, then pulled a repentant face as she encountered Mark’s cold glance. ‘Okay, I’m sorry—I’m sorry, and I’ll write out a hundred times “I must mind my own business.”’
‘If I could only believe it would work.’ He paused. ‘Have you persuaded Tallie to join us while we wait?’
Penny shook her head. ‘Cinderella refuses point-blank to come to the ball. You seem to have turned her into a recluse—one of the few women in the world who finds you undesirable, cousin dear.’
He said dryly, ‘Perhaps that’s just as well, under the current circumstances.’
‘You mean someone you can’t send home in the morning?’ Penny’s eyes danced. ‘Now there’s a thought. And you’ve persuaded her to cook for you, too. What next, I wonder?’
‘We’re going to leave her in peace,’ Mark said with great firmness. ‘Before she misunderstands your warped sense of humour and walks out on me altogether.’
He looked at Tallie, who was standing in rigid silence, her face warming helplessly.
He said lightly, ‘Tallie, I apologise for my female relative. There’s no excuse for her.’
She found a voice from somewhere. Used it with an approximation of normality. ‘I feel much the same about my brother.’
She watched them leave, heard him say something that she couldn’t catch and Penny’s gurgle of laughter in response as they walked away down the passage.
Stayed where she was, leaning back against the work-top, looking ahead of her with eyes that saw nothing.
Undesirable …
She tried the word tentatively under her breath. Was that really how she thought of Mark Benedict? Or how she wanted to think?
And found herself remembering with odd disquiet the way her pulse had quickened when she’d seen him standing in the doorway. And how her mouth had suddenly dried …
But I was startled, she told herself defensively. He gave me a shock by … suddenly appearing like that—as if he was some kind of Demon King.
On the other hand, he does it all the time, so there’s nothing to get stirred up about.
All the same, she was sharply aware that the sooner she was away from this flat and out of his life altogether, the better it would be for her—personally if not professionally.
And, in spite of the warmth of the kitchen, she realised she was shivering.
CHAPTER SIX
ANOTHER forty minutes passed before the door buzzer signalled the arrival of the final guest.
‘About bloody time,’ Tallie muttered as she lowered the oven temperature yet again. Her chicken dish might indeed be good-tempered enough not to resent being kept waiting. She, however, felt no such obligation.
There was a murmur of conversation in the hall and then a woman’s remembered voice rising effortlessly above it, pitched just right to reach anyone who might be listening, especially in the kitchen. ‘Mark, honey, you’re actually letting this waif you’ve acquired do the cooking? Are you crazy? My God, we’ll be lucky if we don’t all end up in Casualty having our stomachs pumped.’
If there was some way I could arrange for it to happen to you, and the arrogant Mr Benedict, without the other guests being affected, the ambulance would be already on its way, Tallie thought grimly. ‘This waif’ indeed.
‘But I need drinkies first,’ the newcomer added with decisive clarity. ‘And I’ve brought some lovely fizz to celebrate the success of my most recent shopping expedition. Yes, darling, I absolutely insist. A few more minutes won’t matter, for heaven’s sake. You see, I heard this whisper that Maddie Gould wasn’t terribly happy …’
A door closed and the rest of the revelation was lost.
Maddie Gould … Tallie repeated to herself as she took the smoked salmon from the fridge and arranged it carefully on the plates before adding the garnish. Now, why does that name seem familiar?
She was still trying to remember when a voice from the doorway said, ‘Can I carry anything into the dining room?’
Tallie glanced round and stiffened, her eyes widening. Because, for one shocked, ludicrous moment, it seemed to be Gareth standing there smiling at her.
But of course it wasn’t. This man might be the same height, with blond hair cut in a similar, slightly dishevelled style and blue eyes, but there, she realised, the resemblance ceased.
He was built on broader lines than Gareth and his features were pleasant rather than classically handsome.
He said ruefully, ‘Oh, God, I’ve startled you, and that certainly wasn’t the intention. I was lured here by this heavenly smell of cooking.’
Tallie added the final bunch of watercress to the plate in front of her. She said coolly, ‘You’re not worried about food-poisoning?’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘So you heard that?’
‘Wasn’t that the intention?’
He pulled a face. ‘Yes, of course. That’s why I’m here, really—to make sure you haven’t thrown a wobbly and dumped the whole meal in the bin.’ He looked at her solemnly. ‘Promise me you haven’t—not when I’m starving.’
Tallie found she was smiling. ‘No, you’re quite safe.’
‘I’m Justin Brent, by the way,’ he went on. ‘And you’re—Tallie? Is that right?’
‘My full name is Natalie Paget,’ she said. ‘But Tallie will do fine.’
‘My sentiments exactly,’ he said, and his own smile warmed he unexpectedly, making her wish she wasn’t flushed from cooking, with untidy hair and still wearing a damned tea towel.
No, she thought. Not Gareth, in spite of the physical
