No Holding Back. Kate Walker

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СКАЧАТЬ hand closed over hers she found herself looking into those clear, steel-grey eyes, her gaze held transfixed, held with such magnetic force that for a second or two she felt physically dizzy and actually swayed slightly in her seat, knowing that if she had been standing her legs would have given way beneath her and she would have fallen to the floor.

      ‘Miss Ruane——’ A slight inclination of his dark head acknowledged her, nothing about his expression or demeanour giving any indication that he recognised her. ‘I hope you don’t think that I’m intruding?’

      The act of polite concern, nothing more, was nearperfect, almost too much so, and if she hadn’t been so excruciatingly aware of the circumstances of their previous meeting, Saffron knew that she wouldn’t have been able to fault it.

      ‘Not at all——’ What else could she say? ‘Won’t you sit down?’

      Saffron took the opportunity to remove her hand from his with a rush of relief, turning the movement into a gesture towards the empty chair opposite in order to cover the rather abrupt way in which she snatched her fingers away, unable to bear his touch any longer.

      Or was she worrying unnecessarily? she couldn’t help but wonder, as Niall seated himself. After all, he had only seen her for a very few minutes in the office—and she very much doubted that, for the most of them, his attention had been concentrated on her face! The memory of just what had held his interest had her reaching for her glass and taking a hasty gulp of her wine, hoping that its cool sharpness would halt the rush of colour to her cheeks, and she was grateful for the appearance of the waiter at Niall’s side, providing a welcome distraction from her betraying response.

      She might have known that Niall Forrester would attract such prompt and almost obsequious service, she reflected wryly, seeing the waiter’s overly polite concern. He was the sort of man who emananted an aura of power and control—and he looked as if he would tip generously, she added with a touch of cynicism, recalling just how long she and Owen had had to wait before anyone came to take their order.

      ‘I’ll pass on the starter, then we’ll all be at the same stage.’ Clearly, Niall had noted their almost empty plates. ‘And bring another bottle of wine.’

      ‘Oh, but——’

      Saffron had been about to protest that Owen was driving, and that she had no head for anything other than a couple of glasses, but even as she spoke Niall forestalled her, lifting their original bottle of wine from its ice-bucket and refilling their half-empty glasses.

      ‘Thank you,’ she was obliged to murmur, struggling against an impulse to lift her glass and fling its expensive contents in his face.

      ‘Not at all,’ he responded smoothly. ‘In fact, I’d like you to consider yourselves my guests tonight—my thanks for a most interesting day at the factory.’

      Was she being unduly sensitive? Saffron couldn’t help wondering. Or had there been a worrying emphasis on that ‘interesting’, turning it into something that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat?

      ‘It was my pleasure.’

      Owen tried to match the other man’s easy assurance but only managed to sound oily and insincere, and the way he had to lean forward as he spoke in order to make his presence felt made Saffron aware of the way that, while his remarks had seemed to have been aimed at them both, Niall had concentrated that silvery gaze on her face alone, making her feel like the selected victim, deliberately singled out by a ruthless predator.

      ‘I must admit that I’m surprised to see you here tonight.’ She forced the words out, determined not to let him see how much he worried her. ‘I thought you’d be over halfway back to London by now.’

      ‘That was my original intention, but I changed my mind and decided to stay overnight—do some sightseeing.’

      ‘Sightseeing? In Kirkham?’ Saffron didn’t bother to hide her scepticism.

      ‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ Niall returned, with a smile that made every nerve in her body tense uneasily. It wasn’t humour that lit those pale eyes from within, but a hint of taunting triumph, that made her think worryingly of a hunting cat sitting patiently outside a mousehole, waiting for the unwary rodent to venture out. ‘For a sleepy little Northern town, this place has some unexpected attractions…’

      That silvery gaze slid deliberately to her face, and Saffron’s breath caught in her throat as she saw that the mocking glint had brightened but not warmed those light eyes, so that they glittered with the brilliance of ice in the sun.

      ‘Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Ruane?’

      As he spoke he looked straight into her eyes, that smile making a mockery of her earlier foolish hope that perhaps he hadn’t recognised her. He was playing with her, well aware of her discomfort; he was enjoying watching her squirm.

      ‘Oh, Saffy isn’t a local girl,’ Owen put in cheerfully. ‘She only came to live in Kirkham a couple of years ago.’

      ‘That’s a pity.’ The cool grey eyes never left Saffron’s troubled brown ones. ‘I had rather hoped that you might be able to show me around.’

      His tone was dangerously soft, worryingly gentle, making Saffron think uncomfortably of the cat she had compared him to earlier—the soft fur of its paws concealing the powerful, tearing claws.

      ‘I was sure that you were the sort of girl who knows the best places to go for a special night out.’

      A special night out. This time there was no mistaking the subtle deepening of his drawling tones on those words, forcing her to recall how she had used them herself only a few hours before. And the implication behind what he had said was painfully clear too, to anyone who had seen the insultingly knowing smile on his face when he had spoken of customers and terms. She could have little doubt as to what sort of nights out were in his disgusting mind.

      ‘On the contrary,’ she returned sharply. ‘I’m very much a stay-at-home, Mr Forrester. Not at all a clubsand-pubs sort of woman.’

      ‘That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,’ he disconcerted her by saying.

      ‘Well, if it’s night-life you want——’ Owen put in, anxious, Saffron knew, to give a plug to the night-club he hoped to buy a half-share in.

      ‘Not really.’ Niall barely spared him a glance. ‘Look, Richards, is that a friend of yours?’ A nod of his dark head indicated a table on the other side of the room, where a man Saffron vaguely recognised was waving to gain Owen’s attention. ‘Hadn’t you better see what he wants?’

      He didn’t even watch Owen leave, instead concentrating all his attention on Saffron, continuing the conversation as if the interruption had never happened.

      ‘I can assure you that I wouldn’t think of hiding you away in some smoky, dimly lit club. A beauty such as yours should be seen in the full light of day.’

      Saffron’s soft mouth parted on a gasp of astonishment, both at the arrogance of his dismissal of Owen and at the outrageous compliment.

      ‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr Forrester?’

      His smile was a challenge, the intent gaze of those steely eyes seeming to draw her to him like some irresistible magnet, holding her transfixed, СКАЧАТЬ