The Carlotta Diamond. Lee Wilkinson

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      ‘That sounds great,’ he said with a smile.

      As far as he was concerned, one bed was as good as another, and in some ways it would be safer. If they went back to the Mayfair flat there was always a chance that they might leave some trace of their presence, and it wouldn’t do for Simon to find out. Though his brother-in-law never swore or raised his voice, he was formidable when angry.

      Rudy sighed. While he was still beholden to Simon, he couldn’t afford to rock the boat. But once he had Charlotte and her money in the palm of his hand, it would be a different story.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘LEAVING so soon?’ Anthony asked in surprise, when they went to say their thanks and goodbyes.

      ‘I’m afraid Charlotte has a migraine coming on,’ Rudy said mendaciously.

      ‘Oh?’ Turning to Charlotte, Anthony said, ‘I didn’t know you suffered from migraine. Nasty things. Do you get them often?’

      Charlotte, who had never had a migraine in her life, answered, ‘No, I don’t.’

      ‘Just as well. I’ve always found that—’

      ‘We’d better be off,’ Rudy broke in quickly. ‘The sooner she’s in bed, the happier I’ll be.’

      ‘I’m sure.’ Anthony’s voice was dry.

      In silence they retrieved their coats and were shown out. As they walked towards the car, Charlotte asked vexedly, ‘Why on earth did you tell Anthony I had a migraine?’

      ‘I had to tell him something.’ Rudy sounded sulky.

      ‘Anthony’s no fool. He knew perfectly well we were lying to him.’

      ‘And that bothers you?’

      ‘Yes, it does rather. So far we’ve had a good professional relationship—’

      ‘Which obviously means a great deal more to you than our relationship,’ Rudy groused.

      ‘No, of course it doesn’t. But goodness knows what he’s thinking.’

      ‘Does it matter a toss what he’s thinking?’ Rudy demanded angrily.

      Charlotte bit her lip. All in all it had been a far from pleasant evening, and now they were quarrelling.

      ‘No, I suppose not,’ she said, slipping her arm through his.

      But it did matter. And they both knew it.

      The knowledge cast an additional blight on the evening, and during the journey back to Bayswater the tension was palpable. Charlotte could think of nothing to say, and Rudy drove in a moody silence, a scowl marring his handsome features.

      His bad mood was by no means improved when they reached the flat and Sojo, who had apparently seen the car draw up, opened the door.

      Finding that Charlotte and he wouldn’t be alone after all came as a nasty shock. Though so far everything had gone wrong, he’d been cherishing high hopes that a kiss-and-make-up situation might be just what was needed to get her into bed.

      Now, seething with rage and disappointment, he realised that all his hopes were undoubtedly dashed and, after battling to come tonight, he’d be no further forward in his plans for Charlotte.

      It was only too obvious from his expression how he felt, and Charlotte found herself wishing that she had never invited him back.

      At that point, if he’d announced his intention of going, she would have made no attempt to stop him. But as he continued to stand there staring resentfully at Sojo, she took a deep breath and introduced them.

      ‘Hi! Pleased to meet you,’ the blonde said with casual cheerfulness. ‘Come on in.’

      ‘Rudy’s staying to eat with us,’ Charlotte explained as they went inside.

      Looking horrified, the other girl protested, ‘I know it’s my turn to get supper, but I do hope you’re not expecting me to cook?’

      ‘No. I’ve already volunteered.’

      Taking Rudy’s coat, Sojo hung it on the rack and, ushering him towards the couch, told him, ‘Which is just as well if you want to stay on friendly terms with your stomach.’

      Plonking herself down beside him, she went on, ‘Cooking is definitely not my strong point. When it’s my turn to get supper we usually have sandwiches or a take-away. It’s Charlotte provides all the culinary delights. So what have we to look forward to, chef?’

      ‘Will a quick paella do?’

      ‘Wonderful!’ Sojo said. ‘I’ll be happy to set the table, and wash up afterwards.’ Then, turning to Rudy, ‘I understand you come from the States. Which part?’

      ‘Though my family now live in New York, I was born on the West Coast,’ Rudy replied.

      Sojo sighed. ‘One of my dreams has always been to drive down Route 66.’

      ‘I once did it with a group of teenaged friends in a battered old Chevy…’

      Furious with Charlotte for spoiling the evening, and with some idea of getting his own back, he set himself out to be charming to Sojo.

      She responded by hanging on to his every word and fluttering her eyelashes at him, while Charlotte went through to the bedroom to exchange her dress for a belted chenille housecoat, before starting supper.

      While the paella finished cooking, Sojo set the table and opened a bottle of Frascati, though she herself only drank fruit juice.

      When they sat down to eat and she reached to pour the wine, Charlotte shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’ve had more than enough champagne. Rudy?’

      ‘I think I will have a glass.’ He spoke to Sojo rather than Charlotte.

      While the uncomfortable meal progressed and the conversation gradually faltered and died, his face growing ever more moody, he emptied the bottle.

      Looking on, Sojo said nothing.

      As soon as their plates were empty, concerned because he was driving, Charlotte made some strong coffee and refilled his cup several times.

      When he rose to go, she asked carefully, ‘Are you sure it’s wise to drive? If you want to leave the car where it is, we could always ring for a taxi.’

      ‘No need, I’ll be fine,’ he answered ungraciously. Shrugging into his coat, he added, ‘It isn’t as if I’m paralytic.’

      Feeling miserable and apprehensive, she accompanied him downstairs and opened the street door.

      Seeing he was about to leave her without a word, she put a hand on his sleeve. ‘I’m afraid the evening hasn’t been much of a success.’

      ‘No, it hasn’t.’

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