Whisper Of Scandal. Kathryn Ross
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the kitchen.
She flicked a disgruntled glance at him as he leaned nonchalantly against the marble worktops to watch her fill the kettle.
‘The view’s better in here,’ he drawled lazily as he caught her eye, and then his gaze moved slowly from her neat ankles up over her long legs and curving body.
She felt her body heat start to rise at that look, and she turned away impatiently to open the cupboards and get out some china cups and saucers. Why did he keep looking at her like that?
‘So why did you give up working for my stepfather, Sabrina?’ he asked casually.
Her fingers slipped on the bone-china cup she had been reaching for and she watched in horror as it fell with a crashing sound on to the tiled floor. ‘Damn!’ Her dismayed voice sounded loud in the silence.
He bent to help her pick up the pieces. ‘Shame,’ he murmured as he turned the end of the cup over. ‘Royal Doulton as well—a very expensive piece.’
She glared at him. ‘What are you anyway, a tax inspector?’ she asked stiffly. ‘You’ve done nothing but make references to how expensive things are.’
He looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘Have I? I’m sorry... things of beauty just fascinate me.’ As he spoke his eyes moved over her face searchingly.
She bit down heavily on her lower lip and her blue eyes clouded with tears. ‘No...I’m sorry.’ She got up quickly and went to wrap the slivers of china in paper before putting them in the bin. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It’s just... well, that tea service had sentimental memories. It was my mother’s.’ She didn’t turn to face him as she spoke—she was desperately trying to collect her emotions. It was so silly to be upset about something as small as a teacup, but it had brought thoughts of her mother vividly to her mind.
‘You’ll have to forgive me.’ She forced a smile to her lips and turned to face him. ‘My mother died a couple of months ago and I’m not fully myself yet.’
‘That’s understandable.’ His voice was surprisingly gentle, his eyes sympathetic now as they lingered on her bright, shimmering eyes. ‘Why don’t I make the coffee?’ he suggested with a smile. ‘You sit down for a moment.’
‘No... really.’ She tried to protest but he had already drawn out one of the kitchen chairs for her and was busy getting more cups out of the cupboard. It seemed futile to argue so she sat and watched him.
It seemed very strange to have such an attractive man in her kitchen making her coffee. He looked very out of place in the pretty kitchen. He was so suave and debonair in the immaculately cut suit, and yet so very masculine. Marc Kingsley just seemed to ooze sex appeal.
‘Do you take milk and sugar?’ he asked, interrupting her thoughts and making her jump.
‘No.’ She shook her head.
‘We have something in common.’ He smiled warmly at her as he placed the coffee in front of her.
They had more than he knew in common, she thought suddenly. ‘Would you prefer to sit in the lounge? It’s more comfortable,’ she said as he sat down opposite her.
‘No, I’m fine.’ He stretched out his long legs and reached for his cup. His hands looked very large against the delicate china, she noticed absently.
‘Well, I must say that I’m very glad that I decided to go in search of Garth tonight,’ he said suddenly.
She looked up at him with questioning eyes.
‘Otherwise we might never have met,’ he enlightened her softly.
She tried to will herself not to blush at that remark and laughed. ‘Garth told me to beware of your famous charm.’
‘Did he now?’ For just a second there was that undercurrent of steel in his tone again. Then he smiled. ‘Well, you have the advantage. He has never mentioned you to me.’
She sipped her coffee. ‘Well, when you are a private secretary you tend to learn a few things about your boss’s family now and then,’ she said lightly.
‘I suppose you do.’ He put his cup down. ‘You were about to tell me why you stopped working for Garth.’
‘Was I?’ She frowned for a moment. ‘You know, you really ask a lot of questions, Mr Kingsley.’ She held his gaze for a moment.
‘That’s because I’m very interested in you,’ he drawled huskily. ‘And the name’s Marc.’
Sabrina’s blood-pressure seemed to roar in her ears at that. ‘I’m flattered.’ Was Marc Kingsley really interested in her? Sabrina’s heart thudded wildly at the thought. ‘I’m flattered,’ she said again, trying very hard to keep a coolness in her voice. She was completely at a loss for what to say next.
‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘So how about having lunch with me tomorrow?’
The question was so smoothly asked that it took Sabrina’s mind a moment to assimilate it. Marc Kingsley was asking her for a date! For one wild moment she was tempted to say yes. Then she remembered Garth. For his sake it would be prudent to keep her distance from Marc Kingsley; the connection was too close. Anyway, Garth was taking her out tomorrow.
‘I’m sorry——’ she shook her head regretfully ‘—but I can’t.’
‘Am I stepping on someone else’s toes?’ he asked, his gaze never wavering from the bright blue of her eyes.
‘Well...’ She hesitated, unsure which was the best way to get out of this. If she said no, Marc might just suggest another date; if she said yes, he might ask her who her boyfriend was. ‘I have a date tomorrow,’ she said at last.
‘So how about the day after?’ he persisted.
She shook her head. ‘I... I can’t, Marc. I’m involved with someone else and it wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Lucky man,’ he drawled softly. ‘Well——’ he finished his coffee and stood up ‘—I suppose I should be going.’
She suppressed the immediate feeling of disappointment. Given different circumstances she would have loved to see this man again. There was something about him that was quite fascinating. ‘Thank you for the lift,’ she said politely as she stood up to walk with him to the door.
He smiled. Then quite suddenly he reached across and touched her face. ‘You know, I never take no for an answer ... it goes against the grain.’
‘Don’t you?’ Her voice sounded as breathless as she felt.
‘Certainly not.’ His finger trailed softly across the smooth skin of her cheekbone. ‘I’ll be seeing you soon, Sabrina Harrington,’ he promised decisively.
She watched him walk away from her with a pounding heart. Her skin seemed to burn where he had touched her. For one wild moment she was ecstatic that he would ask her out again. Then as he closed the front door behind him reality set in.
She couldn’t get involved with Marc Kingsley. It would be sheer folly. She turned to clear the table and then turned out the lights with a sigh. What would Marc think if he knew the truth? she wondered suddenly. Would he still be so keen to pursue her if he knew she was Garth Fraiser’s illegitimate daughter? The question taunted her as she made her way to her bedroom. Of course she would never have an answer; that was a secret she had to guard very close to her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
GARTH collected Sabrina promptly at ten the next morning and they drove out to the countryside in his Aston Martin.
It was a beautiful day. Sunshine played over the fresh green of the fields. The trees were knotted with buds ready to burst forward at any time and daffodils brightened the verges of the road.
Sabrina felt her spirits lift. Winter had been