Alex Ryder - Revenge By Seduction

‘My parents live in Scotland,’ she said quickly, then added a little defensively, ‘I’m old enough to look after myself.’

He seemed amused. ‘I’m sure you are, Catriona. I admire a spirit of independence. So you live in London all by yourself, do you?’

At the moment, while Madge was on holiday, she did, and some devil within, urging her to project an image of maturity and self-reliance, made her keep silent about Madge. Thankfully she was spared the necessity of an outright spoken lie by the arrival of the waiter with their order.

Forestalling any further questions on that subject, she busied herself by daintily topping up her whisky from the bottle of mineral water.

The grey eyes watched her with amused interest, then he said with approval, ‘I’m impressed and pleased to see that you didn’t order some ghastly cocktail garnished with a paper umbrella. A nice malt whisky instead. You’re obviously a lady of discernment.’

The compliment gave her a warm glow. He said the nicest things…and with such sincerity. She was a lady. A lady of discernment, no less! And he had such lovely white teeth when he smiled. Oh, it was too much. He was bound to have a girlfriend somewhere. Quickly pushing that unwelcome thought aside, she raised her glass and sipped far more than she’d intended. Immediately she felt it go to her head. At least the water had quenched the fire of the spirit and she was mercifully spared the embarrassment of having a coughing fit.

‘Do you have many friends in Chelsea?’ he asked casually. ‘An attractive girl like you surely has a boyfriend or two.’

‘Oh, no,’ she assured him quickly. Perhaps too quickly. She paused and assumed an air of nonchalance. ‘At least nothing to write home about.’

‘So there’s no one special in your life?’

She shrugged. ‘Not really.’ Her heart was hammering away inside her chest.

‘London can be a very lonely place,’ he commented quietly. ‘You must have some kind of social life, surely?’

She didn’t want him getting the idea that she was some kind of stick-in-the-mud, a stay-at-home, so she said blithely, ‘Well, there’s the usual round of parties. You know what Chelsea is like. There’s always something going on.’

He grinned and seemed satisfied. Suddenly he glanced at the expensive gold watch on his wrist and she felt the stab of cold disappointment. He was going to finish his drink, make some excuse, then be on his way—and she’d never see him again. Was it because of something she’d said? Had he seen through her lies…even if they had just been little white ones?

What did a woman do at a moment like this? she asked herself desperately. Simply shrug off her disappointment? Console herself with the thought that he wasn’t meant to be the one, after all? Perhaps fate had someone else in mind for her, and that was a pity because she was quite willing to settle for him here and now. Given such a short acquaintance it might be foolish to imagine that she was hopelessly already in love, but how else could she explain this wild beating of her heart?

He still had that oddly penetrating and quizzical look in his eye when he asked suddenly, ‘Are you sure you’ve quite recovered, Catriona?’

She managed a bright smile. ‘Yes. I’m fine, thanks.’

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it.’ He gave a sigh of regret. ‘I’d love to sit here and chat all day and get to know you better, but I’m afraid I have to leave. I’m meeting a client back at my hotel in fifteen minutes.’

She knew it had been too good to be true. Somehow she contrived another cheerful smile. ‘Please don’t let me keep you from your work. You’ve been very kind and I appreciate it, Mr Hind.’

‘Good. Then perhaps you’d like to show that appreciation by having dinner with me this evening?’

She replaced her glass on the table, stared at it stupidly for a moment, then looked up to see if he was serious.

‘Th—this evening?’ she stammered.

‘In two hours’ time, to be exact,’ he said pleasantly. ‘But if that’s too short a notice for you I can arrange it for later.’

‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘I mean…I’m sure I can manage that.’

‘Good,’ he said briskly. Then with a devastating smile he added, ‘It’s been one of those days. Dinner with you will make up for everything.’

Her mind was racing ahead. What would she wear? Did she have anything remotely suitable for a dinner date?

‘I’ll leave the choice to you, Catriona,’ he said gallantly. ‘I usually dine at Cardini’s but perhaps you’d prefer French…or Italian?’

‘Cardini’s will do fine, Mr Hind,’ she answered lightly. She had no idea what Cardini’s was like, but if a man with his grooming and style ate there regularly it was sure to be first rate. He’d probably be wearing a dinner jacket and bow tie, and God knows what she was going to wear but she’d think of something.

He flashed another smile. ‘Enough of the Mr Hind. Call me Ryan.’

She hoped she didn’t look as flushed as she felt when she smiled back. ‘Very well…Ryan.’ Seeing him glance at his watch again, she hurriedly finished her drink then said, ‘I, too, will have to be going.’

His hand claimed her arm lightly as he escorted her outside. At the doorway he paused. ‘I’ll send a car to pick you up at seven-thirty. Will that be all right, Catriona?’

‘Yes…’ Her voice had gone husky with excitement. ‘I…I’ll tell the security man in the foyer to look out for it.’

He smiled again, then turned, and she watched him stride off. For a moment she simply stood there, hardly daring to believe what had happened. Something was bound to go wrong. He’d change his mind. She’d get all dressed up and sit waiting for a car which would never show up.

But then again perhaps he really did mean it, and he would send a car, and she’d damn well better be ready just in case. But what was she going to wear?

With a sudden flash of inspiration she hurried back to the shop and let herself in. Telling herself that Madge would understand, she made straight for the reject corner in the stock room.

She found the dress she wanted and held it at arm’s length, then swallowed nervously. Would she dare wear this? Strapless, in pale green Chinese silk, it carried a top designer name and a price tag that would have bought a good second-hand car.

To the casual observer it was a sublime creation and worth every penny, but to eagle-eyed Madge who’d spotted the tiny imperfection in the hemline, it was worthless. As in all such cases she’d immediately got in touch with her supplier, who invariably told Madge to get rid of the items in any way she saw fit. Madge usually donated them to the charity shops in the East End. It tickled her sense of humour to think of some poor old cleaning lady going to work in a five-hundred-pound coat she’d bought for next to nothing.

Catriona found a matching silk stole, then she wrapped them up, let herself out of the shop and rushed back to the flat.

The internal phone buzzed at seven-thirty precisely. She answered it breathlessly, then rushed over to the window and saw the long black limousine drawn up in the forecourt below. Then, breathing deeply to calm herself, she took one last look at herself in the mirror.

When she’d first tried on the dress she’d eyed her reflection in despair. She’d never have the nerve to go out in this! She couldn’t wear a bra—not that that was a problem with the way it clung to her figure—but the amount of flesh and cleavage on display could only be justified in front of a husband or doctor. But it certainly looked stunning. She’d turned this way and that, getting used to the idea.

Now she completed the outfit with the stole and one of Madge’s coats, borrowed for the occasion, then took the lift down to the foyer where Charlie, the security man, had to look twice before grinning and wishing her a pleasant evening.