the collar of his jacket—too long, she thought scornfully, but doubtless there were some women who found him attractive. As far as she was concerned, he was far too chocolate-boxy to appeal; he looked like one of the actors one saw on television, driving lorries and eating bars of chocolate, or performing death-defying acts on skis to deliver them. Some of her contempt showed in the withering glance she gave him, determined not to let his manner overset her.
‘Umm…you’re attractive enough, I suppose,’ he ventured calmly, ‘but I scarcely think your manner is likely to win you friends or influence people. If you really want a job I would suggest that…’
‘I want a job?’ Kelly broke in furiously, two hectic spots of colour burning in her preciously pale face. ‘I haven’t come here for a job, I’ve come here for an escort!’
‘An escort?’ If he was as stunned as he had sounded, he covered it up very quickly. ‘I see, and just what sort of escort do you require, Mrs Langdon?’ he asked smoothly, sitting down in the leather chair behind the desk, and pulling open a drawer. ‘You must understand that this is a highly reputable agency, we don’t…’
Kelly’s furious gasp reached him as he straightened up, staring coldly at her. ‘You’re a married woman,’ he pointed out.
‘I’m a widow,’ Kelly contradicted him, ‘and I want to see the manager.’ She threw the last comment at him through gritted teeth.
‘By all means,’ he agreed suavely, ‘but you’ll have to come back next week. He’s on holiday at the moment.’
Next week! That would be far too late!
‘Look, suppose you tell me your requirements… Do you need an escort for some official function?’
‘Not exactly,’ Kelly replied hesitantly, strangely reluctant to admit to this infuriating man exactly what she did want.
‘I see. Well, perhaps if you were to tell me exactly what you do want…’ He removed what looked like an application form from the desk and bent his head over it. His hair was thick and dark and possessed a glossy, healthy sheen, Kelly noticed absently. Why on earth had she come here? She longed to turn tail and run out, but simply didn’t dare. His face was perfectly composed and polite, and yet Kelly had the suspicion that inwardly he was laughing at her. Well, let him laugh, she thought angrily, she didn’t care what he thought.
Quickly she told him an edited version of her story.
‘I see,’ he said slowly, when she had finished. ‘You wish to hire an escort to accompany you to a friend’s home for the weekend. Your friend is married and you feel that a threesome might be awkward?’
That was what Kelly had told him, and she had no intention of saying any more.
‘And you don’t have any male friends who could accompany you?’
‘Sue, my friend, is inclined to matchmake,’ Kelly told him quickly, not without some truth. ‘I thought it best if I took a complete stranger—to avoid complications later.’
‘I see.’ His expression told her quite plainly that he did not, but Kelly had no intention of enlightening him. However, several minutes later she realised that she had underestimated him when he said softly, ‘This escort wouldn’t be more of a bodyguard by any chance, would he?’
‘Bodyguard?’ Kelly looked at him sharply. ‘Look, if you don’t want my business, just say so.’ She was beginning to lose her temper. Something about this man unleashed a powerful wave of antagonism she hadn’t experienced in years. It must be something to do with the sexual magnetism that almost oozed from him—part of his stock and trade, she reminded herself scathingly, wondering what part he played in the agency.
‘Not at all,’ he responded smoothly, ‘I was merely trying to discover exactly what you had in mind. You must appreciate that a legitimate agency such as ours sometimes receives enquiries it isn’t equipped to handle.’
Kelly went brick red as the meaning of his carefully chosen words sank in.
‘All I want is a male escort for the weekend,’ she ground out with loathing. ‘Nothing else!’
‘Well, in that case, Mrs Langdon,’ he continued with a briskness that belied his earlier words, ‘if you will simply give me the details I’m sure we’ll be able to sort out something.’
Coolly and concisely, Kelly told him. She thought she saw him hesitate when she gave him her address, and wondered cynically if he was mentally adding another nought to the bill she would be presented with. If so, he was in for a rude awakening.
‘Will you require a car?’ he said formally.
‘I have my own,’ Kelly told him shortly. ‘Can you provide someone?’
She was filled with distaste for what she was doing, but she had come too far to back down now, and she faced him with dogged determination, trying to ignore the embarrassment and anger she was experiencing.
He studied her for a moment, then said slowly, ‘How important is it to you that we do?’
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that it wasn’t important at all, but somehow she found herself saying huskily instead, ‘Very important.’
‘Yes.’ The grey eyes held hers intently. ‘Yes, I thought it must be. Now, what time do you want our man to be at your apartment?’
Quickly Kelly told him, only too glad to escape from the office ten minutes later, filling her lungs with steadily deep breaths as she stepped outside on to the pavement, only too glad to have the ordeal behind her. What was the matter with her? She had faced formidable Boards of Directors without flinching, and yet in front of that one man she had been reduced to a shivering, trembling wreck. Why?
For the rest of the day she found it difficult to concentrate. She had told Maisie that she intended to be away for the weekend.
‘Take a couple of extra days off,’ Maisie urged. ‘You could do with the break. Go out and buy yourself a new dress.’
‘I don’t need one,’ Kelly told her briefly, only somehow she found herself leaving the office earlier than usual, and as it just happened to be a late shopping night, she found herself wandering through the Knightsbridge stores; something that she hadn’t done in ages.
She saw a dress that caught her eye on one of the racks. In crêpe satin by Calvin Klein, it was a deceptively simple wrap-round dress in a brilliant shade of pink.
Somehow she found herself in the changing room with it over her arm, discarding her velvet suit in order to try it on. The neckline plunged almost to the waist, the long tight sleeves hugging her arms in much the same way as the satin hugged her body, the fabric caught up in a knot just above the waist. It was hideously expensive and not the sort of thing she wore at all, and yet somehow she found herself buying it, even though she told herself that she was mad and it was simply not the sort of thing to wear for a quiet dinner in the country.
Sue rang her while she was still recovering from the shock of her spending spree.
‘You are still coming, aren’t you, Kelly?’ she pleaded. ‘I’m so looking forward to seeing you. I’ve been so miserable!’
Kelly could
