Daphne Clair - Infamous Bargain

‘He let me in,’ Kynan told her, releasing her fingers.

‘Oh. Oh, good!’ She was still looking at him. ‘You’re not at all what I expected.’

‘Really?’ He still didn’t smile, yet Briar had the distinct impression he was beginning to enjoy himself. ‘Tell me what you expected.’ He bent his head towards Laura.

Laura blushed, the colour rising under her ageless white skin to the roots of her beautifully coiffured blonde hair. She looked helplessly at Briar.

Briar put a reassuring arm about her waist. ‘I don’t suppose Mr Roth expects you to answer that,’ she said, fixing a social smile to her face.

Mr Roth looked as though he might be about to dispute her supposition, but Briar didn’t give him a chance. ‘He might not hear what he’d like to,’ she went on, braving the faint spark that rose in the strangely metallic eyes. ‘I was just about to fetch him a drink.’ She withdrew her arm from Laura and took Kynan’s, steering him away. ‘The bar’s this way.’ If he got his kicks from teasing defenceless women, at least she could rescue Laura from him.

When they had their wine, he turned to her, lifting his glass. ‘The name’s Kynan,’ he said, ‘Briar.’

Be nice to him, her father had instructed. She curved the corners of her mouth upward and raised her glass. Her eyes fleetingly met his before sipping her wine gave her an excuse to look away. There was a concentration in his stare that made her uneasy.

She half turned from him, watching the other guests. All were representative of solid, respectable firms who managed the city’s wealth, the kind of people her father had cultivated ever since, as a young, shrewd accountant with a hard-won degree and none of the right connections, he had set out to forge for himself a place in the upper echelons of Auckland’s business community.

‘Is there anyone I need to introduce you to?’ she asked. She wondered if this evening had been arranged specifically to impress Kynan Roth.

He cast a cursory glance about. ‘I’ve met some of the men.’

One of the women, Briar knew, was a successful barrister, another a well-known artist. But they were here because their husbands had been invited to bring them. Xavier found it difficult to cope with women in business.

‘Would you like to meet their wives?’ she asked.

His look seemed vaguely speculative. ‘Would you mind?’ he asked, a thread of something like laughter in his voice.

‘Introducing you? Not at all.’ She turned to lead him away from the bar, wondering why she’d thought there was a hidden meaning in his innocuous question. Then it hit her. He’d thought she’d been cutting him out for herself when she steered him away from Laura, that she’d decided not to let another woman near him.

She nearly laughed aloud. Automatically, her head swivelled to look back at him as he followed her, and he came closer to her and said, ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ She shook her head, indignation overcoming the laughter. She’d like to take him down more than a peg, but wrecking her father’s dinner party wasn’t the way to do it. Especially as Laura would field the blame.

She gave him a brilliant smile to hide her thoughts and led him towards a plump, pleasant-faced woman sitting on one of the deep leather sofas and twiddling with her glass while her husband talked with another man. Briar introduced them all to Kynan and, when he’d seated himself beside the woman with every appearance of pleasure, gracefully withdrew to find Laura and fix if necessary whatever was bothering her.

Apparently the crisis was over. Her father and stepmother were talking with another couple now. When she joined them, asking quietly, ‘Is there something you wanted me to do, Laura?’ she received a grateful smile and a whispered,

‘It’s all right, I think. The caterers said they’d sort it out.’

‘I’m sure they will.’ Briar smiled at the other couple and asked after their children, two at university and one still attending school.

As soon as their various whereabouts and latest exam results had been verified, Xavier broke into the conversation. ‘Are you looking after Kynan, Briar?’

Suppressing a retort that she’d never met anyone less in need of looking after, Briar said patiently, ‘I got him a drink and he’s talking to Kath Bailey.’

Xavier frowned. ‘You should have stayed with him.’ Following his eyes, Briar saw Kath talking animatedly, her companion apparently listening with absorbed attention. Kath was a teacher, and, although she probably didn’t have a lot in common with Kynan Roth, she wouldn’t wilt with embarrassment if he should decide to have a little fun at her expense. In fact she’d probably give as good as she got, in the nicest way possible.

‘He looks quite happy,’ she pointed out.

Xavier said, ‘Mmm. Well...I’ll just.... Excuse me a moment.’ And he nodded to the group and went over to the sofa.

Laura glanced at her watch. ‘Dinner should be ready soon.’ She took half a step towards the door, then stopped, apparently remembering her duty as hostess. ‘Briar, would you...?’

‘I’ll check.’ Briar was glad to leave the room. Laura seemed even more nervous than usual, and her father was like a cat on hot bricks. What could possibly be so significant about Kynan Roth?

She got no enlightenment over the meal, although he was seated next to her at the table. The dinner-party chat touched on the news of the day, skated over politics, and moved on to an exchange of views on best-selling books and the latest films, interspersed with business gossip.

Her father seemed surprisingly ready to concur with Kynan Roth’s views—not that the younger man expressed them except when someone directly asked what he thought. And Laura, with her carefully rehearsed list of questions-to-keep-the-conversation-from-flagging, wasn’t the only one who asked. The others seemed to find his opinion worth their attention, even if they disagreed. But most of the time he just listened, with an expression that Briar found impossible to define. Not boredom, exactly. More as though he was patiently waiting for some small glitter of gold to turn up in a pan of dross.

He seemed to have a good mind, and Briar respected that. He didn’t dither about sitting on metaphorical fences, but considered other views and asked intelligent questions, seemingly in pursuit of information, not to score off an opponent. The perfect dinner guest, in fact.

Once he turned to her when a lively debate was going on among their neighbours, and said, ‘Are you always so quiet?’

Briar put down her fork among the remnants of the artichoke on her plate and picked up her wine glass. ‘When there’s no particular need to talk,’ she replied.

‘What do you think of the government’s moves on taxation, then?’ he asked her.

It wasn’t a question her father would ever have thought of asking a woman. She glanced up at Kynan, wondering if he expected her to disclaim any interest in or knowledge of the subject. Was he looking for an opportunity to indulge what she suspected was a heartless sense of humour?

His eyes held nothing that she could detect except a courteous curiosity.

Well, if he really wanted to know, she would tell him. She did, succinctly and logically. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He raised a point or two that they tossed about between them while the caterers served succulent lamb garnished with paper-thin orange slices and mint sprigs, and then he slanted her an odd little smile before turning to answer a remark addressed to him from across the table.

When she refused dessert, he gave her another smile, accompanied by a quick, surmising and slightly humorous glance over her slim but well-defined figure. Then he spooned into a fluffy four-inch-high cheesecake topped with kiwifruit and strawberries on a thick layer of fresh whipped cream.