Platinum Coast. Lynne Pemberton

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СКАЧАТЬ angrily, his own temper abating when he saw her beautiful dark-amber eyes flashing defiantly at him.

      Christina, he was discovering, was very different to most of the girls he took out.

      ‘I have no intention of buying you! Christina, I mean that. I’m not being conceited when I tell you there are lots of beautiful women I could have who would be more than willing to be bought.’

      She did not reply, but realized he was right. It would not be difficult for a man in his position.

      They walked on in silence.

      ‘To be perfectly honest, Christina, I was so pleased to see you, and had such an amazing time with you last night, I simply wanted to please you. It’s a long time since I’ve felt that way about anyone.’

      He lifted two fingers in the air. ‘Scout’s honour.’

      ‘I bet you were never a scout!’

      ‘I was. A sea scout, actually, for three years.’ He stopped walking and turned to face her.

      ‘Truce, Miss O’Neill?’

      ‘You’re impossible,’ she said, and then added, ‘Truce, Mr Reece-Carlton.’

      Stephen took her to San Lorenzo for lunch, where they ate pasta and drank her favourite dry Italian Frascati. They walked to Harrods after lunch, where Stephen bought some new underwear, and Christina spent more than she ever had before on a pair of black suede shoes to match her new dress.

      They arrived back at the flat at five.

      Stephen busied himself making tea in the small black and chrome kitchen whilst Christina wandered around looking at books and studying photographs in antique frames.

      ‘Who is this beautiful child?’ she asked.

      She was holding a photograph of Stephen pictured with a dark-haired little girl as he walked into the living-room bearing a tray of tea and fruit cake.

      He placed the tray on the coffee table and took the frame from her hands.

      ‘Tea is served,’ he said, and sat on the sofa, patting a place for her to sit next to him.

      He stared at the photograph. ‘This is Victoria when she was six years old.’

      He said the child’s name with fondness.

      ‘Who’s Victoria?’ Christina poured the tea.

      ‘She’s my daughter.’

      ‘Oh.’ Christina sounded shocked. She splashed tea into the saucer, and onto the glass coffee table.

      ‘Look what a mess I’ve made.’ She began to mop up the spilt tea with a napkin.

      ‘Victoria is nearly eleven years old now, and you’re right when you say she’s beautiful.’

      ‘I wasn’t aware you had a child. Why didn’t you say before now?’ Christina sipped her tea and looked closely at Stephen.

      His eyes shifted from her probing gaze and his face adopted the same enigmatic expression she had noticed the last time she had questioned him about his family.

      ‘I didn’t think it necessary. Anyway, you never asked.’ His voice was dismissive.

      Christina was about to remind him that on their first date she had asked him about his family and he had told her then he had been married and his wife had died. Why had he not taken that opportunity to mention Victoria?

      Stephen, perceptive as ever under scrutiny, sensed Christina’s unease, and reassured her.

      ‘I didn’t tell you because I am someone who needs to get to know people before I can open up to them. It’s that simple.’ He took a sip of tea. ‘Victoria lives in Sussex, in my country house, and rarely comes up to town. I have a housekeeper there, Mrs Barnes, who looks after her whilst I am away.

      ‘I do try to spend as much time as possible with Vicky at weekends. She and I have become very close since her mother’s unfortunate death.’

      ‘How did your wife die, Stephen?’ He hesitated, deep in thought for a few moments, then said, ‘Barbara killed herself. An overdose of alcohol and barbiturates.’

      He closed his eyes as if to blot out a painful memory. They were still closed when he continued.

      ‘Barbara had a lot of problems, and I don’t think I helped. She was constantly accusing me of working too hard and neglecting her. She was an extremely demanding woman.’

      His eyes were open now but staring straight ahead, unblinking. His voice was very quiet and resigned when he said, ‘I wasn’t capable of giving her everything she needed.’

      He directed his brooding gaze at Christina. There was no pain visible now, only resignation. He looked away and poured himself another cup of tea, more for a distraction than anything else.

      ‘Well, we have something in common, Stephen,’ Christina murmured softly. ‘We’ve both lost loved ones in a tragic way.’

      She pushed a cushion to one side and found his hand. He lifted it to his face and kissed her palm, then her fingertips, one by one.

      The gesture sent a thrill through her entire body. She stared at his long, angular face, scrutinizing every one of his features individually so as to imprint them on her mind, never to forget his image.

      It was that moment that she realized she was hopelessly in love with Stephen Reece-Carlton.

      ‘Where on earth did you find her?’

      Nigel Sinclair stood with Stephen whilst both men watched Christina dancing with a huge red-faced bear of a man, who was sweating profusely and spinning her to and fro in a pathetic attempt at rock and roll.

      ‘In a shopping centre in Manchester, actually.’ Stephen looked at his host’s bemused face. ‘I’ve always maintained the prettiest girls in this country are from the North, and so unspoilt.’

      Nigel dragged his eyes reluctantly from Christina, whose long legs were revealed every time her partner spun her round.

      ‘Is she totally unspoilt, old chap?’ He nudged Stephen, an insidious leer curling the corners of his full mouth. The inference was obvious.

      ‘That’s none of your business,’ Stephen growled.

      ‘Okay, Stephen, keep your shirt on.’ He held up his hand. ‘A chap likes to know these things, that’s all.’

      Nigel gave Stephen a chummy slap on the back. Jerry Lee Lewis’s thumping piano in ‘Great Balls of Fire’ ended and Christina emerged from the conservatory, which was set up as a disco, to join Stephen and Nigel.

      ‘Thank goodness the DJ changed the music. That guy was all set to rock and roll me to death.’ She was breathless, a becoming glow suffused her entire face, and most of her hair had tumbled out of the neat chignon she had spent half an hour perfecting. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at the two men.

      Nigel СКАЧАТЬ