Trail Of Love. AMANDA BROWNING
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.
‘Charles Endacott here.’
Kay very nearly dropped the phone. Indeed, she replaced the papers she was juggling back on her desk with almost extreme care. ‘Sir Charles?’ she greeted him awkwardly after a pause of several seconds, during which her brain had gone into frantic convolutions wondering what he could possibly want, and at the same time dragging up an inimical picture of Ben Radford’s stony face. ‘This is a surprise.’
‘I’ve been doing some thinking, Miss Napier. Your visit was something of a shock, but it also intrigued me. I’d very much like to talk to you again, and I was wondering if you might be free for lunch today?’ The mellow tones of the old gentleman were warm in her ear.
But it was another voice that made her fingers tighten on the plastic. A cold voice which had warned her off in no uncertain terms, when advising her that just such an occasion as this might arise. Finding herself in the midst of a minefield, it behoved her to step very cautiously indeed.
‘Do you think that would be wise?’ she murmured diplomatically, and could almost hear his surprise.
‘I can see no harm in it.’
Kay sighed. ‘No,’ she admitted, ‘but others do. Mr Radford was quite emphatic, and I think I have to agree with him. My visit was a mistake, and perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to compound it in any way.’
Sir Charles sounded amused. ‘Warned you off, did he? If that isn’t like him! Ben is a very good businessman. Frankly, this bank would be lost without him. But he doesn’t know everything.’
‘He was concerned for you,’