Carole Mortimer - Sensual Encounter

‘For you, Mr Rourke.’ The man held out a tray with a message lying on its surface. He stood silently beside them waiting for a reply as Jared read the message.

Jared scanned the words with impatience. ‘Damn,’ he muttered before turning to face Kate. ‘I have to go and make a call—do you mind?’

‘Not at all,’ she smiled, very conscious of the still-hovering waiter.

‘We’ll talk about North America when I get back.’ He stood up to place a light kiss on her lips. ‘I don’t intend letting you escape me, Katharine Mary Collins.’

She had smiled tautly until he was out of the room, then she had sprung into action, hurriedly leaving the dining-room to pay her bill and collect her luggage, leaving the hotel before Jared realised she had gone, little dreaming that he would trace Kate Collins back to Kate Collier, never dreaming that he would want to.

What she had done, spending two days with a complete stranger, was out of character for her, an impetuous need for emotional reassurance after Brian had let her down so callously, but she doubted it was out of character for Jared. There was an experience about him that couldn’t be denied, a knowledge of women that had been infinitely satisfying but which spoke of relationships with many different women. At the thirty-four she knew him to be that wasn’t surprising, but she had known only one man before him, the man who had been the reason for her need to get away from London and all the well-meaning friends who would pity her to her face and laugh at her behind her back. What Brian had done, using her until someone more useful came along, was one of the oldest tricks in the book; and she had been so much in love she hadn’t even realised what he was doing.

But Jared Rourke wasn’t really her type, he had just been available when she needed him, and she didn’t want to see him again. Once he was ‘living on his wits’ in North America he would realise she wasn’t his type either.

She had really thought Jared would realise that, that she would never see him again. She certainly hadn’t expected him to turn up at her flat, and not tonight of all nights. He had almost ruined everything. He still could; she doubted she had seen the last of Jared Rourke—even if he had gone to see Gill!

She couldn’t believe he actually had the audacity to go through with that—could she? She could believe anything of him! She could even believe he would persuade Gill into believing she knew him …!

‘Darling?’

She turned to find Richard frowning at her. They had stopped at the restaurant and the doorman was waiting for them to get out of the car. ‘Sorry,’ Kate forced a bright smile, dragging herself back to the present, to the man at her side, the man she had decided to marry. ‘I’m hungry, aren’t you?’ she prompted lightly, stepping out of the car.

She swept into the restaurant at Richard’s side, aware that they attracted considerable attention as they moved through the room to their table. Richard was a well-known personality in the City. And she knew that some of the attention was directed at her, that her elegant beauty attracted admiration. It wasn’t ego that told her this, it was Richard himself. He had a reputation for escorting only beautiful women, and they had been seeing each other for almost two months now.

‘Champagne,’ he ordered imperiously of the wine waiter as he came to take their order, selecting a good year automatically, his knowledge of wines being as polished as the rest of him. ‘To us,’ he toasted her with warm brown eyes once their champagne had been poured. ‘You realise you’ve made me the happiest man in London?’

‘Only in London?’ she taunted huskily.

‘In the whole world,’ he laughed softly, reaching into the pocket of his black dinner jacket to pull out a small black velvet ring-box. ‘Can I place this ring on your finger, darling?’ He opened the box to reveal a huge diamond set on a platinum band.

For only a brief moment Kate hesitated, then she held out her hand, putting both Brian and Jared out of her mind as Richard placed the ring on the third finger of her left hand.

RICHARD JAMES had become a customer of her agency six months ago, and had begun to pursue her immediately, the advertising they were doing for his numerous high-class clothing stores for women giving him a good excuse for seeing Kate often.

But six months ago Brian Linton had been very much a part of her life, and her rebuffs to Richard, although polite, had been exactly that.

But she had made a decision three months ago, and she had stuck to it. Brian had found himself a rich woman to marry, so she would marry well too. When she got back to London three months ago Richard had been in Europe on a promotional tour, but as soon as he returned last month she had shown him, without being too obvious, that she was no longer averse to his attentions. With a sophistication she had soon learnt was second nature to him he had begun a slow wooing, starting with flowers and small gifts, working up to the suggestion of a casual evening together to discuss his advertising. The subject of advertising hadn’t been mentioned once during the whole evening, and when he asked to see her again she had willingly agreed. The wooing no longer went slowly after that. Yesterday he had asked her to marry him, and once again Kate hadn’t hesitated.

She hadn’t allowed for the fact that Jared might demand readmission to her life. Richard was well aware of the fact that she and Brian had been intimate—at twenty-four he didn’t demand virginity from her!—but she doubted he would understand her affair with Jared. Was Jared the type to kiss and tell? She didn’t think so, although if he made any more unexpected appearances at her flat like tonight Richard might become suspicious of the fact that Jared was looking for Gill at all. If he came back—and Kate felt sure he would—she would just have to make sure he understood that their time together meant nothing to her, that she didn’t want to see him again. Richard was the man in her life now, and he would remain the only man.

‘Do you realise how happy you’ve made me?’ He held the hand that bore his ring, taking it to his lips to kiss her palm. ‘When can we be married?’

She blotted everything out of her mind but Richard and their wedding plans. ‘When would you like to be married?’

‘Tonight.’ His dark gaze held hers.

She laughed softly. ‘That’s a little too soon for me. Would next month do?’

‘If it has to,’ he grimaced. He was not the most patient of men when it came to getting something he wanted.

‘I think so, Richard.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘I told you about this new account I’m trying to acquire—I’d like to settle that before we’re married.’

‘Isn’t Melfords a little high for you to aim, darling?’ He quirked dark brows. ‘After all, it’s a multi-million-pound perfume industry.’

‘And I’m just a small not-very-well-known agency.’ She spoke the words he hadn’t. If there was one thing about Richard that annoyed her—and it was the only thing!—it was the way he liked to underestimate her work, treating her career almost like a hobby she would soon tire of. He was of the old school, a wife was to adorn his house and table, to warm his bed and body, not to go out to work or have a career of her own. But the agency was hers, she had worked it up from nothing into a successful business, and she had no intention of giving it up, not now or when they were married. ‘There was a rumour that Melfords were no longer satisfied with the work Hazeldene was doing for them. I made enquiries, and they didn’t deny the rumour. At the moment they haven’t said yes to the new ideas I sent them, but neither have they said no. The head of their advertising department told me that they’re considering them.’