Trail Of Love. AMANDA BROWNING

Trail Of Love - AMANDA  BROWNING


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instincts. And I can look after myself. As for not knowing you, meet me for lunch and we’ll put it right. Now, what do you say? It would make an old man happy,’ he wheedled skilfully.

      Kay, who had sorely missed having no other relatives, melted at the gentle cajolery. After all, she told herself, what harm could it really do? Ben Radford need never know, and she had liked Sir Charles on sight.

      ‘I usually have lunch between one and two,’ she said by way of acceptance, and burning her boats at the same time.

      ‘Good, good. My car will pick you up at one o’clock sharp. I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Napier,’ Sir Charles declared, and rang off.

      Of course, as soon as she put the phone down, she started to doubt her sanity. She was laying herself open to all sorts of accusations if Ben Radford ever found out, and it wasn’t the wisest move if she wanted to put the whole of that encounter from her mind.

      Yet, having given her word, she couldn’t go back on it, and therefore was waiting on the pavement when the silver-grey Bentley drew up on the dot of one. It made her glad that today she was wearing her favourite French navy coat dress. Anything else wouldn’t have done justice to the mode of transport!

      The restaurant she was driven to turned out to be situated in a well-known gentlemen’s club. Sir Charles was already seated at a table when she was shown in, and he rose courteously, offering his hand.

      ‘Miss Napier. It was very kind of you to accede to an old man’s wishes.’

      ‘Please, call me Kay,’ she invited as they sat down, and paused until a Jeeves-like waiter melted away with their order before adding, ‘You make it very difficult for a person to refuse.’

      Sir Charles smiled faintly. ‘I apologise for using unfair tactics on you, Kay. It’s a habit, I’m afraid. My grandchildren call me a wicked old blackmailer.’

      Kay laughed softly. ‘It sounds as if they love you. You’re fortunate to have such a close family.’

      ‘I like to think so,’ he agreed and a short silence fell. Kay broke it a moment later.

      ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

      Sir Charles paused while the waiter returned with their starter, then cleared his throat. ‘As I mentioned the other day, since Kimberley disappeared there have been many attempts to extort money by people claiming to know where she was, and from children and young women claiming to be her. Naturally all were referred to the police who have the means to deal with such—frauds.

      ‘It used to make me very angry, but time has mellowed that. Today, what I feel is a deep sadness. I no longer hope for a miracle. Which is why your story intrigued me. You’re such a contradiction. Everything about you is right—your age, your colouring. Yet you want nothing, except to know you’re not Kimberley. You came to me, guilty and distressed because you had nowhere else to turn. I feel I should have been of more help to you. I would like to think that if by chance my granddaughter is alive, and if she has troubles, there will be someone for her to turn to. So, if you still wish to, why don’t you tell me exactly what it is that has so upset you?’

      Kay felt more than a little choked. It was a long time since she had received such an unselfish offer. Advice without any emotional strings was exactly what she wanted, some objectivity which she seemed unable fully to reach herself. And considering the subject was one so close to Sir Charles, his offer was a generous one that she couldn’t refuse.

      Sir Charles listened intently while she repeated her story, still carefully editing out any mention of the letter and telephone call, which she had decided were malicious, made by someone with a grudge against her mother. It wasn’t, she told herself, even as if it was necessary to the story. He nodded from time to time, as their meal progessed, to show his understanding, and occasionally interspersed a question. At the end, they both sat back, sipping at their coffee.

      ‘I can see why you suddenly had these doubts, Kay, but I have to say I agree with you about their being mere coincidence. If your mother had not kept a diary, it would never have occurred to you to doubt. I expect that if we did a survey, it would show that many redheaded babies were born on the day Kimberley disappeared, and that quite a few of their fathers walked out on the day the ransom was paid. You’re making the facts fit the case, but only by ignoring everything else.

      ‘No, my dear, I think we can safely say that you can rest assured your parents weren’t kidnappers. And as someone with a vested interest in the truth, I think you’ll trust my word, hmn?’

      His smile was so kindly that Kay returned it easily. Everything he said made so much more sense than her own circling thoughts. Instinctively she reached out to touch his hand. ‘Oh, I do, and you’ve no idea how good it makes me feel to know I was being a fool. I needed someone to put it all into perspective.’

      So engrossed had they been on their discussion that neither had seen the new diner enter the room. They only became aware of his approach as his shadow passed across them, causing both to look up at once, though their reactions differed vastly.

      ‘Very cosy, Charles. I had no idea you were entertaining,’ Ben Radford drawled.

      Sir Charles laughed. ‘Even an old man can have secrets, Ben,’ he replied with bluff good humour, to Kay’s horror. She knew it was the wrong tack to take.

      ‘So I see,’ the younger man agreed, turning cold blue eyes her way. ‘Miss Napier,’ he greeted with an awful quiet that spoke volumes to her.

      Kay experienced a sinking dismay. This was the last thing she wanted to have happened, and she didn’t need a high IQ to know what interpretation he was putting on a meeting he inevitably saw as clandestine. And as if that weren’t enough, she suffered again that instantaneous and all-encompassing awareness of him. His hand was just within her field of vision, long-fingered and tanned, in no way effeminate. She experienced a clear vision of it running caressingly over pearly skin—her skin—and felt heat rise all over her body.

      Yet her voice was blessedly steady as she inclined her head. She would not let him see what effect his presence was having. ‘Mr Radford.’

      ‘Kay and I have been having a very interesting chat, Ben,’ Sir Charles went on, as if he couldn’t sense that the atmosphere had cooled. To Kay it was a red rag to a bull, and the very worst thing he could say.

      Ben Radford, however, smiled with feigned interest. ‘I’m sure...Kay has a wealth of interesting stories to tell. Perhaps I’ll look her up some time and have a chat myself?’ There was no perhaps about it, as far as Kay could see.

      ‘If you’re trying to make a date, Ben, do it on your own time. Kay is my guest. Besides, she doesn’t have time to chat to you. If I don’t get her back to Winterbourne and Stonely in five minutes, she might be out of a job.’

      It was extremely unlikely, but Ben Radford didn’t know that. The thought obviously pleased him, even if his words belied it. ‘We can’t have that, even though I’m sure Kay has her sights set on something higher than being a mere hireling all her life.’ With which parting salvo he sauntered away to a table by the window and proceeded to ignore them.

      Kay knew in her bones that she hadn’t heard the last of it. Ben Radford had been paying lip-service to his partner. His true feelings were that she had ignored his warning and now woe betide her! Which thought caused her lunch to sit heavily on her stomach all afternoon.

      By the time she returned to her flat that evening, she had developed a nagging headache, but as she had a date for dinner with Lance’s parents she hastily swallowed some aspirin and hoped they would do the trick. It was all due to the tension produced by one man. Waiting for Ben Radford’s appearance was like waiting for the axe to fall.

      Making herself a snack of cheese on toast, she wished she could stop thinking about him. Just to mention his name conjured him up in her mind. Conjured up memories of his kiss, too, and how she wished she could make that vanish, never to return!

      She lingered under the shower


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