Her Sister's Baby. Alison Fraser
but not the other.
He stared straight at her for a moment. It was an intense scrutiny. His eyes were ice-blue and hard and intelligent.
‘More Northern humour, I presume,’ he finally concluded before directing at her, ‘Is Penelope in?’
‘No, sorry.’ She shrugged into the jacket already in her hand. ‘Is there a message I can pass on?’
‘Are you expecting her back soon?’ he persisted.
How to answer that? Pen came and Pen went. Cass had long since lost any control over her movements.
Cass confined herself to a shrug.
‘In that case, perhaps you and I could have a talk about matters?’ he suggested, a hint of steel now behind the polite, well-modulated tones.
Matters being his brother marrying a nobody that he’d known five minutes. Even Cass could see the family would be less than thrilled.
‘Look—’ she glanced at her watch ‘—I don’t mean to be rude, Mr Carlisle, but can we make it some other time? I have to be in work in fifteen minutes.’
‘Is your work close?’ he asked as she shut and locked the door behind her.
‘A mile or so.’ She was going to have to run.
He must have read her mind as he said, ‘I’ll give you a lift.’
Cass was briefly tempted, before replying, ‘It’s all right. I can be a little late and I don’t want to put you to any bother—’
‘It’s no bother.’ He followed her out on the pavement, and directed a remote unlocking device to the row of cars ahead.
She saw a set of tail-lights briefly illuminate but it wasn’t until they were level that she read the logo and had a good look at the sleek sports car.
She kept her face impassive. Pen might be impressed by fast cars but she refused to be.
He opened the passenger door for her, and waited as she debated whether to accept this lift or not. He looked safe. Well, safe as in unlikely to turn out to be a psychopath or safe as even less likely to be interested in girls dressed in supermarket overalls.
She climbed in and found herself sinking into opulent leather. How the other half lived.
She gave him directions and, though it wasn’t far, they were caught in the rush hour.
‘I wondered—how do you feel about their relationship?’ he asked as they inched along the High Street.
‘I really can’t say.’ Cass knew Pen would never forgive her if she did. ‘I haven’t met your brother.’
‘Then you must have some doubts,’ he was quick to conclude. ‘Your sister’s only…what, seventeen? Rather young to be rushing into marriage, don’t you think?’
Quite, Cass could have agreed, but she wasn’t willing to give him the satisfaction—especially when she remembered Tom wasn’t the only Carlisle Pen had gone out with.
‘Not too young to be dated by men in their thirties, though,’ she said pointedly.
His eyes narrowed briefly from the road to her. ‘You mean me?’
‘Who else?’
‘That was once only.’
‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ Cass returned with heavy irony.
‘No, it isn’t—’ he sounded annoyed ‘—and I didn’t date her. The company had an exhibition stand at Earls Court. I took those involved to dinner on the final day and somehow ended up with your sister. When I discovered how young she was—not to mention immature—I sent her home in a taxi, unsullied.’
Cass swivelled her head in his direction and saw from his tight-lipped expression he was being totally serious.
She felt an odd rush of relief, although she was not quite sure why. If Pen hadn’t slept with this man, there were others.
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she finally said.
‘Do,’ he said with insistence, before shifting back to his original argument. ‘At any rate, I’d say she’s too young for commitment.’
‘Really,’ she replied archly. ‘How kind of you to be concerned for her.’
His eyes went from the road to Cass, checking if she were that naive. The curve of her lips told him otherwise.
‘Yes, all right, it’s obviously my brother’s interests I’m protecting,’ he admitted.
‘Or even his trust fund,’ she suggested somewhat recklessly.
He was quick to observe, ‘You know about his fund, do you?’
Cass could have kicked herself. She’d never met his brother yet she knew his financial situation!
She shrugged as if it had been just a guess. ‘All you rich types have trust funds, don’t you? Turn left here, by the way,’ she added, relieved to see they’d arrived.
He drove into the supermarket car park and Cass jumped out the moment he drew into a bay, muttering an offhand, ‘Thanks,’ as she went.
He wasn’t so easily dismissed, however. A detaining hand was laid on her arm before she reached the outer door.
‘I’m late,’ she protested.
‘Tough.’ Unmoved, he resumed their conversation. ‘So, having a trust fund, that makes Tom fair game, does it?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Cass tried and failed to shrug off his hand.
He tightened his grip. ‘But you think it.’
Cass’s temper rose along with his. ‘Pardon me, but have we met before?’
He frowned at this non sequitur. ‘Not that I can remember.’
‘No,’ she said archly, ‘so what makes you an expert on how I think?’
It stopped him in his tracks for a moment and a cloud gathered over his high, handsome brow. Cass waited for it to descend on her but, though their eyes met and clashed, he surprised her with his reaction.
‘You’re right. I was being presumptuous,’ he finally responded. ‘Perhaps you could clue me into how you really feel?’
Cass didn’t see that she could, and be loyal to her sister, so she dodged the question and said instead, ‘I don’t know how old your brother is—’
‘Twenty-five—’ was supplied.
‘But I imagine, like my sister, he’ll do what he wants, regardless,’ she ran on.
‘Not necessarily,’ he countered. ‘Not if he considers who controls his trust fund.’
His tone was understated, but his meaning was obvious.
‘You,’ she concluded.
‘Me.’ He nodded.
The fact wasn’t of much importance to Cass but she wondered if her sister knew it.
‘Possibly Tom has been reticent on the subject,’ Drayton Carlisle continued smoothly, ‘but I feel one should be straight about these things.’
He smiled as if they might have reached some understanding but the smile never reached those chilly blue eyes.
Cass checked she really had understood. ‘Let’s see if I have this right. You want me to toddle off home tonight and tell Pen who’s holding the purse-strings, while you sit back and hope she transfers her affections elsewhere. Is that straight enough for you?’
She raised challenging green eyes to his, but this time he surprised her with a dry laugh.
‘Frighteningly