Marriage Under Suspicion

She was aware, once again, of his blue eyes assessing her trim figure.

‘Not yet. We’re both busy establishing our careers.’ She picked up the waiting martini, and sipped it after all, relishing its forceful chill against her dry throat. ‘In Ryan’s case a change of career,’ she added.

‘Something you don’t approve of?’

‘On the contrary.’ Kate stiffened. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘The fact that you took a drink before you mentioned it.’

She laughed. ‘You made a wrong connection, I’m afraid. The actual fact is that martinis are my weakness in life.’

‘The only one?’

‘I try to limit them,,’ she said drily.

‘Would calling me Peter be regarded as a weakness? ’

She was suddenly conscious of a marginal shift in her body language—that she’d relaxed—turned towards him. She straightened, giving him a cool look. ‘An error of judgement, possibly.’

She picked up her file, shuffling some papers. ‘And not very businesslike,’ she added crisply.

‘But your business isn’t with me. Like you, I’m just trying to pick up the pieces.’

‘In that case, shouldn’t you be with your brother instead of me?’

‘Andrew’s with our parents. They’re taking him home with them for a few days.’ He frowned at his glass. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or a bad. My mother’s inclined to be rather emotional, and she’s never been a fan of Davina’s anyway. It might make any rapprochement a bit difficult.’

Kate’s brows lifted. ‘You really think that could happen—in spite of everything?’

‘Perhaps—if they’re left to come round without too much interference on either side.‘ He sighed. ’In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if they just sloped off to a registry office one day, and simply got married in front of a pair of witnesses off the street. Neither of them wanted this kind of shindig in the first place. I wonder if it was the pressure of it all that finally goaded Davina into flight?’

‘I do hope not.’ Kate swallowed the rest of her martini and put down the glass. ‘Or I might develop a guilt complex.’

‘Blame both sets of parents,’ he said succinctly. ‘They were the ones coming up with endless lists of people who simply had to be invited.’

‘They usually are,’ Kate agreed. ‘And I must admit I’d have hated it myself.’

‘You mean you didn’t have the bridal gown, the fleet of cars, and the cast of thousands—when you’re actually in the business?’

She smiled constrainedly. ‘Ah, but I wasn’t then. And we did exactly what you recommended for Andrew and Davina. A registry office early in the morning, with two witnesses.’

‘Followed by unmitigated bliss?’

‘I would never claim that.’ Kate frowned. ‘I wouldn’t even want it. It sounds deadly dull.’

‘So you and Mr Dunstan enjoy the occasional clash?’

She shrugged. ‘Naturally. We’re both individuals in a relationship which pre-supposes a fair degree of togetherness, and all kinds of adjustments .’ She paused. ‘And it isn’t Mr Dunstan. That’s my name. My husband’s called Lassiter.’

His brows lifted. ‘You mean you’re married to Ryan Lassiter—the writer?’

Kate smiled. ‘I do indeed. Are you one of his fans?’

‘Actually, yes.’ Peter Henderson seemed momentarily nonplussed. ‘I started life as a City broker myself, so I read Justified Risk as soon as it came out I thought it was amazing—that combination of big business and total chill. And the second book was just as good, which doesn’t always happen.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ Kate said lightly. ‘Fortunately a great many people share your opinion.’

‘Is he working on a third book?’

She shook her head. ‘On a fourth. The third’s already in the pipeline for publication this autumn.’

‘I can’t wait. And while he’s pounding the keyboard you do this?’ Peter Henderson reached across and picked up one of her business cards which had slipped out of the file. ‘And all under your own name too,’ he added softly.

Kate shrugged again. ‘We might have fallen on our faces. It seemed a good idea to keep our individual enterprises totally separate.’

‘But now you’re flying high, surely?’

‘Let’s say we’re holding our own in difficult trading times.’ Kate closed her file. ‘Please keep the card, in case you have a celebration of your own to plan one of these days.’ She sent him a mischievous look. ‘Maybe even a wedding reception.’

‘God forbid.’ He shuddered.

‘You’re against marriage?’

‘Not for other people,’ he returned. The blue eyes dwelt on her thoughtfully. ‘Although I’d have to make exceptions there too.’

Their glances locked—challenged—and to Kate’s shock she was the first to look away.

What’s the matter with me? she thought, swallowing. I’m an adult woman. I’ve been chatted up before, plenty of times. Why should this be any different?

With what she recognised was a deliberate effort, she retrieved her black briefcase from the floor beside her, snapped open its locks, and put away the file with an air of finality.

As she got to her feet, she gave Peter Henderson a brief, noncommittal smile.

‘Well, thanks for the drink. Now I must really get on.’

‘Must you?’ He pushed back his own chair, and rose. ‘I was hoping, once you were free of your business cares, that we might have dinner together.’ He paused. ‘I’ve decided to stay on here tonight after all.’

‘And I’ve decided to make the earliest possible start back to London.’ Kate’s tone was more curt than she’d intended.

‘Running away, Miss Dunstan?’ Peter Henderson’s smile was engaging and unabashed. He glanced down at the card he was holding. ‘Or may I call you Kate?’

‘If you wish.’ Her own glance was pointedly at her watch. ‘Although I can’t see why you should wish to. Unless you do decide to throw a party one of these days, we’re unlikely to meet again. Even if Andrew and Davina get together again, I doubt they’ll hire our services a second time.’

Peter Henderson smiled at her. ‘I remain an optimist,’ he said. ‘In all sorts of ways.’

He paused. ‘And believe me—Mrs Lassiter—’ he stressed the name almost mockingly ‘—if and when I decide to party, you will be the first to know.’

Kate felt suddenly as if her own parting smile had been painted on, as wide and foolish as a clown’s.