kept her eyes down. “Black or with cream?”
“All right, don’t answer me,” he said as though it was just what he expected. “Black, two sugars.”
“Something with it?”
“No, thank you, Sonya. For God’s sake come from behind that counter. There’s not a lot of danger out here.” How could he claim that, when the atmosphere was potentially explosive?
She gave him a cool look. “This is where I make the coffee.”
“Looks more like you’re barricading yourself in.”
“I definitely am not.”
“You definitely are,” he contradicted.
“Well, we’re enemies, aren’t we? In a manner of speaking, of course.”
He considered. “It might surprise you, Sonya, but I’m not gunning for you.”
“What else would you call it?” She came around the counter, carrying the tray set with coffee things.
He stood up to take it from her, the brief touch of his hands on hers enough to soak her in warmth.
“On the coffee table, please,” she said, trying to regain her habitual cool. “I hope it’s the way you like it.”
“What I’d like is for you to sit and talk to me,” he said very seriously.
“I fancy our talk would turn into an interrogation.” She shrugged. “You know my name, age, occupation, my address. What else do you need?”
“I have to say—plenty.” His tone hardened somewhat. “You’re getting yourself into something here, Sonya, as I’ve already warned you. You should be prepared. You told Marcus you’d ring him this evening.”
“I will. No need to make it sound like a duty.” She sat down on the opposite sofa, leaving her coffee on the table.
“Do you fully understand how much he cares for you?” he asked.
“Well, I care for him,” she replied with a touch of aggression. “His humour, his gentle nature, his generosity, the brilliance of his mind. There aren’t many men as gentle and courtly as Marcus. I feel safe with him.”
“Will you marry him if he asks you?” He put it to her bluntly.
Her emerald eyes flashed fire. “Are you really entitled to an answer?”
“Please don’t be cute.”
“Cute? Cute? You must be crazy!” Tempestuously she leapt to her feet, her hair flying. “I am not like that. Why don’t you answer my questions.”
“I might if you sit down again.” He was having difficulty keeping his own emotional balance. He felt desire coiled deep within him like a tempting serpent. It was imperative he keep his distance, adjust his moral compass in the right direction.
“So don’t make me angry.” Sonya sank down again, reaching for a silk cushion as if she might throw it at any moment. “My question: are you serious about your Paula or are you just stringing her along?”
That rankled. “Paula and I go back a long way.”
“No doubt to the cradle.” She gave a tiny mocking yawn. “Only it’s you who should be paying attention. You’re not behind the door handing out unsolicited advice, so I tell you as a favour, she’s madly in love with you.”
He gave her a long, intense look. “Does this mean I’m under some sort of obligation to return her love? I’ve never told her I was. I am not stringing her along as you’re suggesting. In my experience one only has to press a woman’s hand for her to start hearing wedding bells. I’ve dated a lot of attractive women. Not so many of late, I’m afraid. I’m too damned busy.”
“Why wouldn’t you be, as your father’s heir?” she commented. “Why does Paula Rowlands want to hurt me? Why would she say such words? I very much resent I’m ‘after’ you. One would think it was a hunt.”
“In a way it is.” He gave a brief laugh. “We’re all out there looking, searching, hunting for a soul mate.”
“And you’ve rejected everyone so far?”
He levelled an intense stare at her. “Haven’t you?”
She looked down, a glow in her cheeks. “I admit I have kept to myself as much as possible.”
“A woman as tantalizing as you, Sonya, would pretty much have to keep up her guard. Is that the attraction with Marcus? You feel with Marcus you can control the relationship? Is that how you feel?”
She gave a sad little smile. “I’ve never been able to control anything in my life.” Some of the old bitterness and frustration began to surface. She regretted it, but family ghosts were slipping by her. “Drink your coffee,” she urged. “It’s going cold.” She picked up her own cup, trying to shake off her nerves. The best way to protect herself was to stay perfectly cool. Even detached. “When do your parents return?” she asked politely.
“They’re enjoying themselves so much they’ll probably take another month. We have many good friends in the US.”
“Have you told them about me?” Her tone was now so cool it almost snapped.
He shook his dark head. “But someone is bound to have let them know, Sonya. My parents know everybody. Most of them were at the gala. Women love to pass on gossip. You made quite an impact. But you would have known that. In fact you invited it. Which is a bit of a paradox, given your extreme reserve. Then if that weren’t enough you were wearing Lucy’s emeralds.”
“As lovely as they are, they are not the most beautiful emeralds in the world,” she said with one of her elegant shoulder shrugs.
More role playing! He wondered. At times when her composure threatened to fail her, her slight accent became more pronounced.
“You’ve worn better?” he asked, his expression frankly sardonic.
She had the foolish impulse to run down to her bedroom and take the Madonna from its hiding place. She would show it to him: diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls, extravagantly beautiful, extravagantly precious. The Wainwrights, for all their wealth, had nothing like that.
“Hard for you to believe but maybe I have seen better.”
“In the display windows of leading European jewellers, no doubt. The problem is, Sonya, they belonged to Lucy. My mother loved Lucy. They were great friends. It was an extraordinary thing for Marcus to offer them to you to wear.”
“I’d never contemplated he would do such a thing.” She was driven to defend herself. “He made it almost impossible for me to refuse. He was intent on my wearing them. More to the point, he would have known what effect that would have on all of you.”
His chiselled mouth tightened. “It’s time they never looked better,” he added ironically.
