Trail Of Love

Kay went instantly tense and on the defensive. Oh, he was handsome, but there wasn’t an ounce of compassion or understanding in him. ‘Actually, I was disclaiming.’

As the lift doors opened, he stepped aside with studied gallantry, and she ground her teeth, stepping into the small cubicle. It shrank alarmingly as he followed her, stabbing at the button with a viciousness that was the only sign of the anger he was concealing.

‘Very clever. Now Charles won’t be able to think of anything else. He’ll begin to wonder. Then he’ll contact you. No doubt you told him where you could be reached?’ He saw her involuntary start and his lip curled.

Kay rushed to her own defence. ‘That wasn’t why I told him.’

‘But it was why you kissed him!’ he charged caustically.

Their eyes met across the small space, and there it was again—a charge so powerful that it was as if she had been plugged into the mains. It left her tingling, all the fine hairs on her skin raised to attention. That he had felt it too was in the wide flaring of his nostrils as he breathed in swiftly. It became of vital importance to hide a reaction that astounded her.

‘I was saying goodbye!’ she snapped in a rising voice, and her nerves jolted violently as his hand flashed out to press the stop button and the lift ceased its smooth descent. Alarm jangled through her, and there was no way to stop her heart from thudding against her ribs.

‘Is that how you usually say goodbye to virtual strangers?’ Ben Radford derided.

It had been an impulsive act that she couldn’t regret enough, now she knew it had been witnessed. ‘To an elderly gentleman who showed me olde-worlde courtesy, yes!’ she countered, tremblingly aware of his impressive bulk, and the anger and dislike emanating from him in waves.

But it still couldn’t conquer dismayingly receptive senses. Having scarcely registered before, they now appeared ultra-sensitive. His aftershave was tangy and inviting. In a seeming reversal of roles, everything about him was a siren-song, calling to her on a level as primitive as the emotions it aroused.

‘And I suppose you had no ulterior motive in mind?’ His question was a welcome distraction to her thoughts.

Somehow she managed to instil scorn into her tone. ‘Don’t judge me by your own yardstick. Now, if you’ve had your fun, Mr Radford, let me out,’ she added curtly as she braced herself to meet his eyes.

‘Why do you do it?’ he returned, making no move to comply, and effectively blocking her escape by resting back against the control panel.

Kay blinked, put off stride. ‘Do what?’

‘Dress like my maiden aunt, Miss Prunes and Prisms.’

She balked at that. ‘Don’t be so damned insulting! I dress this way because it pleases me!’ Not for anything would she explain herself to him.

He eyed her up and down. ‘Well, it sure as hell doesn’t please me,’ he observed disparagingly.

‘You can’t know how delighted I am to hear that, Mr Radford,’ she responded with sarcastic relish, only to have the feeling shattered seconds later.

‘Does it please any man, I wonder?’

The man was insufferable! ‘For your information, it does!’ she retorted, then could have kicked herself for descending to his level.

‘What’s he got, starch in his veins, too?’ he mocked.

Kay bit back a scathing retort, satisfying herself with a pithy, ‘Whatever Lance has got, it’s a one-hundred-percent improvement on you!’

A smile curved his lips. ‘Sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself more than me. Does he know you’re here?’

She couldn’t help the betraying flicker of her lashes. ‘This is a private matter,’ she snapped defensively.

‘Wouldn’t he approve of your methods?’ he chided.

Lance wouldn’t, but for different reasons entirely from, those this man imagined. Not that she’d ever tell him that. ‘You made up your mind about me before I ever said a word, and that’s that, isn’t it?’ she charged instead.

‘What else did you expect me to do?’

‘At least give me a fair hearing.’

‘Oh, I listened, lady, and I didn’t like what I heard. What made you think you could get away with it? Because Charles is an old man, or because you have that extraordinary shade of hair?’

That was the second time he’d referred to her hair, and it annoyed her as much as it mystified her. ‘Why do you keep saying that? Why is my hair so damned important?’ she challenged touchily, having suffered as most redheads did from teasing.

His eyes grew mockingly sceptical. ‘Do you really expect me to believe you don’t know?’

This time she held on to her temper. ‘Why would I ask if I knew?’

‘Because you’re clever. To know too little is far more plausible than to know too much,’ he explained in that hateful drawl.

Kay followed his reasoning all too clearly. ‘If I was trying to prove I was Kimberley Endacott, which I’m not.’

‘Ah, but we only have your word for that,’ he countered. ‘The same way I only have your word that you didn’t know Marsha Endacott was a redhead, and her mother, too. They were renowned for it. There’s a famous portrait of the two of them at the house, but I doubt you’ll ever get to see it,’ he added with a certain satisfaction.

Kay stared at him for a moment, to check if he was lying, but in truth, she already knew he wasn’t. She closed her eyes. Why had he had to tell her that? She had come here, certain of having her doubts allayed, and they had been—until this very moment. Why couldn’t he have let sleeping dogs lie?

When she looked at him again, it was through stormy sea-green eyes. ‘I want to leave,’ she reiterated quietly, ‘and I’d rather not cause a scene if I can avoid it.’

His head went back at the threat, yet he turned and pushed the button none the less. However, when the doors opened on the ground floor mere seconds later, he halted her departure with a firm hand on her arm. It was like being branded. To all intents and purposes, the sleeve of her jacket need not have existed. She felt the impact to her core and caught her breath at the shock of it. His words seemed to come from a long way away.

‘Stay away from the Endacotts. They’ve suffered enough. I’m giving you fair warning, Miss Napier. Continue in this, and I’ll take it as personal, and believe me you’ll regret that. Have I made myself clear?’

Kay controlled her skittering senses with an effort and shivered, knowing he was not a man to make idle threats. ‘Perfectly,’ she gritted, and looked pointedly at his restraining hand.

He seemed to release her arm reluctantly. ‘Good, because I’d really hate for someone as lovely as you to get hurt.’

Disbelievingly, she made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes were no longer cool. They blazed, but not with anger, and they both froze. Slowly, almost incredulously, he raised a hand to stroke a finger down the fragile line of her cheek.

Kay felt that brief caress to her bones. It was like a lick of flame. Her shiver this time had nothing to do with fear, and her lids dropped. Something was happening between them that was way beyond her experience, and instinctively she fought it. ‘I’m touched by your concern,’ she retorted with all the sarcasm she could muster. ‘Now let me go!’ The order held a quiet desperation as she felt the situation slipping out of her control.

He did no such thing, and it seemed to Kay almost as if he couldn’t. ‘I can feel you trembling,’ he declared in an oddly strained voice.

Kay drew in a ragged breath, as the suggestion triggered off a shock wave through her system. ‘If I am, it’s because I detest you,’ she choked out, looking away, sensing freedom a step away yet unable to reach it. Then her eyes were drawn helplessly back to him. Something he saw there made his fingers tighten.

‘Not that. You’re afraid. What do you think I’m going to do to you?’ he asked dulcetly, as if he’d entirely forgotten where they were.

‘I’m not afraid,’ she denied thickly. ‘I just want to say goodbye, Mr Radford.’

He drew in an audible breath. ‘They say you’re only afraid of what you don’t know,’ he murmured, almost to himself. As if he had to convince himself of something.

In the next instant every nerve in her body quivered with shock. He caught her to him, one hand curving about her jaw as the other encircled her waist and gathered her fast to his strong male body. Her gasp died under his descending mouth.

After a moment’s frozen surprise, she began to struggle for freedom. But trying to drag her mouth free only made him slide his free hand into her hair to hold her still. It was the most incredible thing, for as his fingers slid through her hair, running over her scalp, frissons of excitement brought the hairs up all over her body, and she shivered. Time and space became encapsulated. She forgot to fight because too many other messages were shooting to her brain. How his solidity had a potency she could never have dreamed of. That her breasts found the feel of that strength incredibly exciting, and flowered into aching points that wanted to press closer.