a startling thought; alarming, in one way. But Holly was beyond alarm and, anyway, there was a steady, unshockable capability about Gorgeous Jack that made you rely on him. Normally it would have set her teeth on edge. Now she was just thankful. She leaned into him, trying to pull herself together.
There was a car at the end of the alley. Holly saw a light on its roof and stiffened.
‘Police…’ she said under her breath.
Jack looked down at her, his eyes suddenly sharp.
‘Taxi cab. I told Ramon to get one.’
He took her hand and ran her to the waiting car.
The Armour Disaster Recovery delegation was staying at a small hotel, immensely comfortable and almost impossible to find. Jack took her there without even asking her. Without asking, either, he booked a room for her and then took her into the small bar.
Holly huddled by the spring fire, her hands tight round the small strong coffee which was all she could be pushed into accepting.
Jack said, ‘For the last time—Holly who?’
She gave in. ‘Dent. Holly Dent.’
He nodded. To her surprise, there was no sign of triumph there. ‘I think you have to tell me about it.’
She swallowed. ‘My bag—’ she said again. She felt as if she had lost her identity along with her canvas shoulder bag and an old tee shirt.
Jack looked at Ramon. The Spaniard sighed.
‘I’ll go back to the club and get it. Anything else?’
‘My flute.’
‘I brought that with me. It’s behind the bar,’ said Jack.
‘Oh?’ She gave a wavering smile. ‘That’s a relief. I wouldn’t want Brendan to get his hands on it. He can be stupid sometimes.’ She rubbed her shoulder unconsciously, as if she felt the shadow grip of a heavy hand.
Jack and Ramon exchanged glances. A muscle worked in Jack’s jaw.
But all he said was, ‘OK. Your bag. That’s it?’
Holly shook her head helplessly. ‘The flute case. The clothes I wore to work. Um—I can’t think. Gilbert will know.’
Ramon nodded to Jack and went. Holly hardly seemed to notice.
Jack sat back in the tapestry chair and watched her carefully.
‘Why does this man frighten you so much?’ he said at last.
Holly jumped and came out of her unhappy reverie. She did not look at him. ‘It’s a long story.’
She was rubbing her shoulder again as if it hurt her. Jack watched. He had seen an unconscious movement like that before. He suspected he knew what it meant. Out of sight, his hands clenched.
But his voice was neutral, utterly uninvolved. ‘Has he some hold over you? Legally?’
What a minefield that question was, thought Holly wearily. She sipped her coffee and said at last, ‘Maybe.’
Jack was silent for an unnerving minute.
She lifted her chin. ‘What?’
‘I don’t think it is very clever of you to play games with me,’ he said softly. ‘I’m not likely to help you if you don’t tell me the truth. And at the moment I’d say I’m your best bet.’
Probably my only bet, thought Holly. If Brendan could track her down to the Club Thaïs so quickly, he could probably track her down anywhere she went. He must be making Donna throw money into the search.
Poor Donna! Not knowing her own father, she had clung to her stepfather. And then to find that he’d left his company to the blood daughter he had only just discovered! Donna had felt rejected, but Brendan was, quite simply, furious. And Donna, hurt, loving and blind, did what Brendan told her.
Holly shivered. Oh, yes, so much better to pack your heart in ice. And not let any man take you over.
‘So?’ prompted Jack.
Holly brought herself back to the present with an effort.
She selected quickly from the miserable complications of her personal history.
‘I don’t know whether he has any legal claim to be my guardian and that’s the honest truth.’
Jack preserved an unimpressed silence.
‘Look,’ she said, half-exasperated, half-desperate, ‘he is married to my stepsister. My parents died within a couple of years of each other—’ and what a continent of complications she skipped over there ‘—and I ended up living with them.’
It telescoped a bit but it was basically true.
‘That doesn’t explain why you’re afraid of him.’
Holly flinched.
‘Well?’
Her eyes fell. ‘We—er—didn’t agree on my future. So I left.’
‘What did you disagree about?’
That was the crux. Holly resolutely refused to admit the image of her father. She had an odd feeling that if she thought about him, Jack would know it. It was as if Jack were a mind-reader. Or could read her mind, at least.
She said woodenly, ‘I wanted to continue my education.’
Jack’s deep-set dark eyes bored into hers as if he were the judge and she were a criminal. Holly narrowed her own eyes and stared straight back at him defiantly.
‘All right,’ he said at last. He didn’t sound as if he believed her; just as if he was letting it go for the moment. ‘So how can he stop you? Money?’
She shook her head violently. ‘No. I’ve never taken any money from them. I don’t want any.’
She sounded as if the very idea filled her with horror, thought Jack. He stored the information away for future consideration.
‘So—how can he have any hold over you? If you really are twenty-two.’
Quite suddenly, Holly laughed. Sweet and true and startlingly youthful, her laugh rang round the little bar, waking up the drowsy barman with its genuine amusement. Jack was surprised and, for once, it showed.
‘You’re probably right,’ she said ruefully. ‘Only they live in Smallville, USA, and my father left a crazy will. I know I ought to have challenged it. But, frankly, I wasn’t ever going to convince a local court to see it my way.’
Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Why not? I should point out that I’m from Smallville, USA myself,’ he said drily.
‘Then I shouldn’t need to explain,’ retorted Holly. ‘There isn’t
