Trail Of Love

And his mouth... No kiss had ever made her feel so hot and shivery at the same time. As if she had a fever. His lips scorched her with their dry heat. Moving sensually, he tasted her, one second barely brushing her lips, the next drawing her lower lip into his mouth, caressing the silky inner skin with his tongue. Ever gradually the kiss deepened, demanding more of a response—and getting it. Until finally her lips parted, and with a triumphant sound he claimed her with his tongue piratically plundering her sweetness until her own tongue flickered to meet his.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Raising his head, he eased away to look down into her flushed face.

‘What are you, some sort of witch?’ he demanded in a husky drawl.

She shuddered in reaction. If she was, then he was a wizard. She’d never felt such magic. ‘I...think you’d better let me go,’ she responded weakly, somehow unable to free herself.

For a moment it seemed he hadn’t heard her, then with a sort of mental shake he released her and stepped back. ‘You’re right, of course. You’re trouble with a capital T. A man would be a fool indeed to ignore the warning signs.’

He had recovered quicker than she, but Kay rallied her defences at that. What on earth did she think she was doing? And with him of all people? Self-disgust made her voice chilly. ‘There’s no need, because we won’t be seeing each other again after today.’

‘I sincerely hope not.’

Kay winced inwardly as he made it abundantly clear he deplored that moment of weakness. Well, she did, too, and she let him know it. ‘No more than I. Goodbye, Mr Radford. I won’t say it’s been a pleasure meeting you, because I hate lying.’

Without another word she turned and marched away, very much aware that his eyes were on her until she passed through the front door. Only out on the pavement again did she draw in a fresh breath, and found she was shaking. As much from sheer reaction as anger. Not caring where she went, she strode out, her pace mirroring her inner turmoil. Her response to Ben Radford filled her mind. She had always thought she had a low sex drive, but he had proved that notion as full of holes as a rusty pail.

Reviewing her life now, she realised she must have led a very cloistered existence to have arrived at that decision about herself. Or had she begun to believe her own publicity? Had her well-cut businesslike suits and dresses become so much a part of her that the sensual side of herself had been hidden from her? Until her encounter with Ben Radford had proved there was nothing staid in her make-up—when the right man triggered her natural responses.

Yet, while he had done that, he was the wrong man. He hadn’t wanted to feel that way about her any more than she had him, so why had it stung, the way he had chosen to fight it? Did the answer really matter anyway? His opinion of her and her ‘questionable motives’ should be enough to make her head easily conquer her wayward emotions.

Besides, there was Lance. He was solid and dependable. OK, so he had never lit any fires in her, but she hadn’t expected him to. How ‘real’ was it, anyway? Emotions were fickle. It had been a very emotional day. Her reaction was probably heightened by the unreality of the whole situation. The thought somewhat eased her troubled spirit.

Her footsteps slowed, and, glancing round, she discovered she had no idea where she was. Fortunately a taxi cruised into sight and she flagged it down. Giving the driver the office address, she sank back into the seat with a sigh. She thanked heaven she would never have to see Ben Radford again. She would put him from her mind, just as she intended doing with the sad business of Kimberley Endacott.

* * *

Two days later, as Kay was congratulating herself on her success—the diary once more resided in the case which now lay tucked away at the back of her wardrobe—she glanced up quickly as, after only a brief knock, her office door was pushed open.

‘Do you have a minute, Kay?’ John Kovacs, her immediate boss, asked as he popped his bald head through the gap.

‘For you, five,’ she returned with a grin. ‘What can I do for you?’ she enquired as he came in and sat down. His usual jovial face was glum.

‘A big favour, I hope. You know I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t so important. There’s a VIP due to meet Matthew Winterbourne about now, only he’s in a jam somewhere between here and Heathrow. There’s been a monumental foul-up somewhere, and, what’s worse, we can’t contact the VIP to put him off.’

Kay could see what was coming. ‘And you want me to keep him entertained until Matthew gets here?’

John’s face began to beam. ‘I knew we could count on you!’ he declared, jumping up.

‘Hey, I haven’t said I’ll do it yet,’ Kay pointed out quickly, then almost laughed, because if John had had any hair left he would have been pulling it out. So, although the request smacked of male chauvinism, she hadn’t the heart to let him down. ‘All right, but you owe me one. Give me a minute to make myself presentable and I’ll be up there.’ She reached into a drawer for her bag, and rose. ‘Who is it, do you know?’

He paused briefly on his way out. ‘Ben Radford, the merchant banker. Not someone you’d want to upset. Thanks, Kay; Matthew shouldn’t be more than half an hour.’

With a wave of his hand he disappeared, not realising he’d left Kay in a state of shock. Ben Radford! His name was a silent groan. Of all the pieces of bad luck. If she’d known she never would have agreed. Now she was committed to spending at least thirty minutes in his unenviable company. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it, but it was too late to back out.

Hurrying to the ladies’ washroom, she surveyed her face. Was it any wonder she looked pale? But that was soon remedied with make-up. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about her black pencil skirt and tailored white blouse, which were comfortable but quite definitely prissy. Then immediately she was annoyed at herself for allowing just his name to put her into a spin. He was just a man, for heaven’s sake! Deciding she’d done enough primping, she let herself out and headed for the lift.

Kay nodded to Matthew Winterbourne’s secretary as she passed through en route for his office. At the door she stopped and rather nervously smoothed her skirt down over her hips before taking a deep breath and entering. Ben Radford had his back to her, standing at the window, but he turned as he heard the door, his smile turning to a deep frown.

‘Good morning,’ Kay greeted politely, despite her heart’s alarming tendency to gallop out of control. She then found herself the object of a long leisurely perusal from her head to her feet, the result of which clearly found her wanting, and made her blood boil.

‘My, my, you do turn up in the most unexpected places,’ he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes as he witnessed her reaction. Slipping his hands into his trouser pockets, he paced towards her.

Still angered by the way he had looked her over so scathingly, it was an effort for her to remain polite, as the twitch of his lips showed he knew only too well. ‘It’s not unexpected at all. I happen to work here. I came to tell you that Mr Winterbourne has been delayed. An effort was made to contact you, but you couldn’t be found.’ Her chilly ghost of a smile suggested that any waiting he had to do was therefore his own fault.

His response to that was to step unnervingly closer to her, so that she was made vitally aware of the height and breadth of him, and the pure male scent that mingled with his cologne and so appealed to her senses that they went into overdrive.

‘Meanwhile, you were sent to keep me...entertained?’ he queried in a sexily husky voice.

Although she knew it was deliberate, on one level his voice did amazing things to her insides, and in pure self-defence she summoned anger. ‘No, I damn well was not!’ she responded, eyes spitting sparks.

His eyebrow quirked. ‘Tsk, tsk, now is that any way to talk to a client?’

It was a timely reminder, and Kay fought an inner battle for control, because he was right, damn him. It was not company policy to actively antagonise clients, especially ones designated VIPs. Yet there was clearly a double standard at work here, for, while he had leave to say what he liked, she must keep her place. ‘I’ll have you know it wasn’t my idea to come here.’

Ben Radford laughed. ‘No, I can well believe that! So, you work here, do you? That’s very interesting.’

She couldn’t see why. ‘Is it?’

He sent her a broad smile and wandered over to the desk, turning to prop himself against it, arms crossed. He was the epitome of male power, leashed for now, but ready to spring into action. ‘I hope you’ve taken my advice to heart, Miss Napier, otherwise things could become a little awkward. For you, that is.’

Kay stiffened at the renewed threat. ‘I had absolutely no intention of seeing anyone involved with the Endacotts ever again, and quite frankly I could have done without this meeting too.’ Because there was a deplorable part of her that found him so devastatingly attractive that it shattered her mind!

‘Rest assured, there are plenty of women whose company I would seek before yours, Miss Napier,’ he retorted scathingly, making her gasp in equal degrees of shock and hurt.

But she’d rather die than let him know that he could affect her in any way, and her lips curled. ‘Oh, I’m sure there are, and I can imagine the sort, too! Big flashy blondes with more chest than brains!’ she sniped sarcastically, losing control of her tongue yet again.

Blue eyes became frosty. ‘Perhaps. They certainly wouldn’t be avaricious little gold-diggers, who dress with as much sex appeal as cold rice pudding!’ Ben Radford shot back swiftly.

Kay didn’t know which description hurt the most, and while she struggled to find a response she was saved the need by the door being thrust open. Matthew Winterbourne rushed in, totally oblivious to the atmosphere, tossing aside his briefcase and holding out a hand to the other man.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Ben. Traffic was at a standstill!’ he apologised.

Ben Radford shook hands. ‘No problem. Miss Napier here has been keeping me amused,’ he said smoothly, no trace of animosity in his tone, which warned Kay she should never take this man at face value.

Matthew Winterbourne smiled vaguely in her direction. ‘Has she? Thanks for holding the fort, Kay.’

From somewhere Kay dredged up a smile. ‘You’re welcome,’ she responded before making good her escape, but not before she heard Ben Radford’s parting sally,

‘See you around.’ Well, not if she saw him first! Cold rice pudding! How dared he? He was a hateful, hateful man, and if she never saw him again it would be much too soon.

Unkind fate, however, saw to it that, while out of sight, he was lamentably not out of mind. It was during her dates with Lance that Ben Radford’s ghost kept rearing its ugly head. Try as she might—and she did try very hard—she couldn’t help but compare the two men. She hated herself for it, because Lance always seemed to come second—and a very poor second at that. How desperately she tried to feel something when he kissed her goodnight, but she just couldn’t. And to make it worse, in the middle of a kiss, she’d find herself thinking he was too short, too flabby—too unlike Bed Radford! Yet the more she tried to think better of Lance, the more she failed, and her nights were spent in restless self-condemnation.

Lack of sleep made her mind dull, too, and she found, by the end of the following week, that it was a struggle to concentrate. Never before had her beloved mathematics failed to absorb her whole attention, and it felt like the worst kind of betrayal. Never before had she looked forward to the weekend with quite such eagerness. She’d give her flat a good spring-clean and wash that man out of her thoughts at the same time!

Such was her plan. She should have known better. The telephone call she received on Friday morning came as a complete surprise, and a welcome distraction from the hours of wasted work the crumpled papers on her desk represented. Expecting her secretary to answer the ring, when it continued she realised Donna was out of the office and lifted her own receiver quickly.

‘Kay Napier,’ she stated briskly.