Looking After Dad

‘You mean Charles Sohan of the Sohan hotel chain?’ she asked.

‘The same. He and my father are rivals.’

Cosmopolitan and commercially shrewd, Charles Sohan owned luxury hotels all over the world. She had stayed in the New York Sohan once when she had been guarding an Arabian princess, Jess remembered, and been most impressed. Her brow crinkled. Whilst her only knowledge of the hotelier came from the media, to her it seemed unlikely that if he wished to launch an attack he would do so in such a petty, melodramatic and hackneyed way.

‘But sending something like this is so amateurish. It’s not Charles’s style at all,’ Sir Peter protested, echoing her thoughts.

‘The note is a hoax dreamed up by some airhead who wants to cause trouble,’ Lorcan Hunter declared, ‘and isn’t worth bothering about.’ Ice-cool blue eyes met hers. “The last thing I need is a couple of bodyguards lurking in the background.’

Jess gave a narrow smile. ‘You’re mistaken, Mr Hunter,’ she said. ‘We do not lurk. We blend seamlessly and unobtrusively into a client’s habitat.’

‘Not into mine,’ he rapped.

She moved her shoulders. ‘So be it.’

She had decided that if there was a snag she would refuse the assignment and there was one crucial snag—him. Three months in his company were unlikely to be dull, yet they would be intensely trying on the nerves. Everyone else she had looked after had been grateful—a shadow crossed her face: sometimes too grateful—and she was damned if she would be an unwelcome guest.

Gerard shone a soothing, slightly oily smile. ‘We’re only thinking of your safety,’ he told him.

‘I realise that, but I would’ve appreciated it if you’d consulted me before bringing Miss Pallister here today,’ the architect said, and gave a noticeably irritated tweak at his damp sleeve. ‘It would’ve saved a lot of hassle.’

‘No hassle. It’s been my pleasure,’ Jess said sweetly, and received a stony glare in reply. She turned to Gerard. ‘Have you notified the police?’

He shook his head. ‘Any danger would be on Mauritius.’

‘Even so, if you believe the threat is genuine—’

‘It isn’t,’ Lorcan interjected.

‘It could be,’ stated Gerard. ‘Yes, Pa?’

His father shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘I can’t decide, but whoever composed the note knows about Lorcan working on the hotel and his personal arrangements—’

‘And if there’s doubt it pays to be cautious, though we don’t need to bother the police at this stage,’ the young man declared‘, taking over the proceedings again. ’“Precious brunette” seems an unusual phrase. Has Sohan ever described Harriet like that?’

‘Yes, he has,’ Lorcan replied. ‘She went with me to his office once and now when we meet it’s how he refers to her. But we meet in public, so any number of people could’ve overheard.’

Sir Peter frowned. ‘I can understand your not wishing to be guarded, but you wouldn’t want to take even the slightest risk of Harriet getting hurt.’

A nerve pulsed in his temple. ‘Good grief, no,’ he said sharply.

Presumably the ‘precious’ Harriet who was to accompany him to Mauritius was his wife, Jess mused—or perhaps a live-in lover. A man like Lorcan Hunter would have his pick of women, so the brunette was bound to be some svelte beauty who dressed in style—she glanced down at her tunic and leggings—whatever the occasion. And whose face never flushed bright red, even if she ran the marathon in the Olympics.

‘Harriet is—Mrs Hunter?’ she enquired, thinking that she hated the woman already.

‘Sorry? No. The reference is to my daughter.’ The nerve throbbed again in his temple. ‘I’m a widower.’

‘So, to be on the safe side, you need someone to watch over her,’ Sir Peter said. ‘And Gerard thought that if it was a young lady no one would suspect her presence.’ He smiled at Jess. ‘People will believe you’re an au pair or perhaps Lorcan’s girlfriend.’

‘No, thanks,’ the architect said brusquely.

Jess’s spine stiffened. She had been about to object to the second description herself, but she saw no reason for him to be so anti!

‘OK, we forget the whole idea of bodyguards,’ Gerard declared, with a careless wave of his cheroot. He smiled at her through clouds of cloying smoke. ‘Sorry you’ve had a wasted journey.’

‘It isn’t a problem,’ she replied, thinking that for someone who, minutes ago, had been insisting on taking precautions he had undergone a swift change of mind. Yet perhaps Lorcan Hunter was getting a long way up his nose, too?

‘We won’t forget it,’ Sir Peter declared, suddenly sitting up straight and taking charge. ‘I’m willing to accept that you prefer to take care of yourself, Lorcan, but I still believe we should consider protection for Harriet. It’s another week until you return to Mauritius so there’s no need to make a final decision until then, but I’d like her and Miss Pallister to meet. To see if they get along together, if needs be. Do you have any experience of four-year-olds?’ he asked her.

She shook her head. Two of her brothers had children, but they were still only babies. ‘None.’

‘Harriet is four and a quarter,’ Lorcan said, and grinned. ‘She considers the quarter is of the utmost importance.’

Jess stared. It was the first time he had smiled and it transformed him. His blue eyes had warmed and sparkled, and attractive little dents had appeared in his cheeks. When he relaxed, he was handsome. Her gaze fixed on his mouth. Several years ago, she had illustrated book jackets and Lorcan Hunter had the mouth of a hero. His upper lip was thin and sculpted, the lower sensually full. It was a mouth which any artist would drool over. A mouth which ought to be cast in bronze.

‘Do you have an hour or two to spare?’ Sir Peter enquired. ‘Do you have the rest of the afternoon free, Miss Pallister?’ he said, and Jess realised, with a start, that he was talking to her.

She sprang back to attention. ‘Um—yes,’ she replied.

The businessman spoke to Lorcan. ‘Then perhaps they could meet this afternoon? You mentioned how you’d brought Harriet up to London with you today to see your folks, so it would seem the perfect opportunity.’

A beat went by before he nodded. ‘Whatever you wish.’

Jess frowned. Instead of concocting some polite excuse, turning down the assignment and walking away, she had allowed herself to be drawn in. Though only for the next couple of hours. The architect’s hesitation had made it plain that he had agreed to the meeting to oblige his paymaster and was merely going through the motions. And if she went through the motions, too, it would burnish the name of Citadel Security and could persuade Sir Peter to use them should his company require a bodyguard—or hotel guards or mobile patrols or closed circuit TV systems—at some time in the future. Which would delight her brothers.

‘You said you didn’t tell your parents about the threat, Lorcan, and we don’t want to alarm them or Harriet unnecessarily,’ the older man went on, ‘but I’m sure you can come up with a reason for the introduction.’ Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. ‘Thank you for your time and your trouble, Miss Pallister. We’ll be in touch with your office to advise them of what action we decide to take, in a few days.’

Ten minutes later, Jess was seated beside Lorcan Hunter in his black Alfa Romeo coupé heading out of Central London and north towards Hampstead Garden Suburb where, he had told her, his parents lived in a small private retirement community.

‘So,’ she said, ‘what role do you wish me to play in this charade?’

He shot her a look. ‘Charade?’ he repeated cautiously.

‘I’m well aware that we’re engaged in an exercise in futility because you intend to veto the bodyguard idea, come hell or high water. Yes?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I see no need for one.’

‘Your choice,’ she said. ‘So, who am I supposed to be?’

He frowned, thinking. ‘Before I formed my own company I was with an international design firm called the Dowling Partnership, working first here and then in the States—’

‘Which explains the American twang,’ Jess cut in.

‘I lived there for several years.’

‘It’s a super country.’

He nodded. ‘It has a lot going for it. How about we say you were a colleague at Dowling’s London office?’ he went on. ‘We met by chance in the street today and you said you’d like to meet Harriet?’