No Mistaking Love Page 5

  `There's really no need for you to go with me,' she protested, propelled despite herself along the pavement by his hand beneath her elbow. `You must have lots to do this afternoon.'

  Luke's smile was almost malicious as he glanced down at her. `I'm a successful businessman, and that means finding time for the things that matter. I like to keep a close eye on expenditure and select my investments very carefully! Left to yourself, Kate, I have no doubt you would buy yourself some more neat, practical suits, and that's not what I have in mind at all!'

  Five minutes' walk took them to the centre of Knightsbridge, crowded with shoppers in spite of the cold February day. Luke swept Kate through the throng and into a small shop tucked away in one of the back streets behind Harrods. It was discreetly lit, with thick carpets and an expensively perfumed air. Inside there were few clothes on display, but, when Luke had explained what he wanted to the alarmingly well-dressed sales staff, a seemingly inexhaustible supply was produced out of nowhere.

  Luke sat on a spindly chair with his arms crossed as different outfits were held up against an uncomfortable Kate, nodding abruptly or dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

  `She needs autumn colours,' he said as an assistant proffered a bright turquoise dress. `That's too hard for her.' Kate eyed it wistfully as it was whisked out of sight. `Look,' he went on, picking up a soft tan skirt that was draped over a sofa and holding it impersonally against her. `This is what she needs-soft lines, earthy colours that reflect her personality.'

  Kate was scarlet with embarrassment, but neither Luke nor the saleswomen took any notice. They carried on talking over her as if she were no more than a dummy, matching shoes with bags and holding up scarves and belts that appeared out of bottomless drawers.

  `Relax!' Luke ordered as Kate shifted uncomfortably yet again. `I thought you Frenchwomen were supposed to take an interest in clothes.'

  `I think I must take after my father,' Kate said glumly. `My mother and sister can shop till they drop, but I've never been able to get that excited about it.'

  `It shows,' Luke said caustically. `Now, go and try that lot on and look as if you're enjoying yourself!'

  The pile was borne off to the fitting-room, while Luke took a mobile telephone out of his briefcase and dialled a number, jabbing at the buttons with characteristic aggression. Kate heard him booking a table for two for dinner that night, and wondered whom he was taking out. Helen Slayne? Or was she the reason for his fraught weekend?

  The thought of Helen's vibrant beauty made her study her reflection in the fitting-room a little forlornly. No amount of expensive clothes would give her that kind of glamour.

  `Come out and let me have a look,' Luke commanded from the other room.

  With a sigh Kate tucked in the olive-green shirt and did up the zip on the skirt. The suede was soft and luxurious, and she smoothed it with her hands as she pulled aside the curtain and presented herself for Luke's inspection.

  He walked round her, studying each outfit so dispassionately that Kate's tawny eyes began to snap with golden lights. It was humiliating, standing here, being inspected. She was burningly aware of Luke's eyes on her body-not that he seemed to notice it. She might as well have been made of plastic as he prowled around her, a dark, powerful presence, impossible to ignore.

  By the time Kate emerged from the fitting room, laden with outfits and dressed in her own clothes once more, she was tight-lipped but determined not to get involved in another scene.

  Luke was talking into his phone again. `Helen? It's Luke. Just to say that I won't be able to make it tonight after all… What's that? That's too bad,' he said curtly. `I've got an important business meeting tonight.' He switched off the phone and banged the aerial back with the flat of his hand as he turned to look at Kate. `Do they fit?'

  `Yes, but-'

  `We'll take them all.'

  He handed a credit card to a beaming assistant, who hastened to relieve Kate of her burden. `Now for the hair.'

  Kate maintained a frosty silence as Luke led her through what seemed an unnecessarily tortuous route to the hairdressers'. For someone who had a limousine and driver at his disposal, he was far too ready to walk, she thought as she struggled to keep up with his long, decisive stride.

  It was a dull, cold day, and Kate wrapped her coat about her against the wind, thinking longingly of the warm, comfortable Mercedes which had been summoned to collect all the bags from the shop and deliver them to Kate's flat later. Luke had flatly refused to wait for it to give them a lift.

  `There's no point in sitting around waiting for the car when it's just as quick to walk. Now, hurry up, Kate, or we'll be late.'

  The Cadogan Salon was in a quiet street not far from the King's Road. Kate eyed its green awning uneasily, but once inside she was taken into friendly but capable hands.

  `I want you to cut it short,' Luke instructed, holding his hand just below Kate's jawline. `About here. And do anything else you think necessary. I want her to look smart and stylish.' He turned back to Kate. `I'm going back to the office now. Take a taxi home when they've finished with you here, and be ready for me to pick you up at half-past seven.'

  Kate let herself be helped into a gown to protect her suit. `But I thought you had an important business meeting?'

  `I have. I'm taking you out to dinner.'

  She stared at him as she tied the belt automatically. `Me? Why?'

  'I want to discuss the Paris trip with you, since we haven't had an opportunity this afternoon,' Luke said briskly. `And don't try and pretend you're busy. You're the sensible sort of girl who would spend the evening before a trip getting herself organised and making sure you got to bed early, so if you had had any plans I'm quite sure you would have cancelled them. Or am I wrong? Is there more behind that demure exterior than meets the eye? Is there a queue of palpitating lovers waiting to take you out tonight?'

  His mockery was obvious, and Kate's chin tilted with stiffened pride. `No, the palpitating lovers were last night.'

  There was a brief flash of admiration in Luke's eyes. `Good,' he said. `In that case, I'll see you later.' He pulled his diary out of his inside pocket. `Remind me of your address.'

  `It's all right,' Kate said quickly, remembering the photographs of her parents and of the manor in her sitting-room. She didn't want to run the risk of Luke's coming in and recognising them. `Why don't I just meet you at the restaurant?'

  Luke hesitated, then nodded. `All right,' he said, giving her the name of the restaurant. `I'll see you there about eight. Wear that green dress I picked out, and don't be late!'

  He turned and walked out without more ado, leaving Kate in a state of simmering exasperation at his abrupt orders. So much for his making an effort to be more polite!

  Resigned to her fate, she let herself be led off to have her hair washed.

  Two hours later she sat in front of the mirror and stared at her own reflection. She had been determined to dislike the way she was to be changed on Luke Hardman's instructions, but now she was taken aback by what she saw. Was that girl in the mirror really her?

  The hair which had always been so soberly brown had been cunningly highlighted so that it gleamed as she turned her head-copper, bronze, gold. Then they had taken ruthless scissors to it and, released of its weight, it bounced exuberantly about her face in soft, natural waves, and threw into relief the fine cheekbones, the clear, luminous skin and the long, graceful line of her throat.

  `It suits you,' Susan reassured her, mistaking Kate's silence for disappointment. She drew the brush through a wing of burnished hair and let it swing softly forward again.

  It did more than suit her. It transformed her. Kate turned her head this way and that, watching her profile out of the corner of her eye, a little annoyed that Luke had been proved so right and almost alarmed at how different she looked. How would she ever be able to live up to such a glamorously vibrant image?

  The bright new hair blew about her face as she stood on the King's Road and w
aved down a taxi. She wondered what Luke would think. It was just like him to bully her into a complete change of appearance! Now she was unsettled, unsure of herself and confused about Luke. Just when she had decided to like him, he was arrogant and unpleasant, and then, as if that weren't enough, he confused her further with a quite unexpected charm. Now she didn't know what she felt!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A SUBDUED murmur of voices and the discreet chink of china greeted Kate as she stepped through the door and surrendered her coat to a silently efficient waiter. She felt vulnerable without its protection, and smoothed down her dress nervously.

  It was very plain, a deep dark jade, with a wide V neck and arms demurely covered with long, tight sleeves. Otherwise the design was of classic simplicity, the skirt falling from a tailored bodice in soft folds of the finest wool.

  It was a dress designed to flatter the wearer rather than itself. Kate had deliberately tried to underplay the effect by not wearing any jewellery, but she was still very aware of the sensuous feel of the soft material against her skin, of the way the stark design emphasised the swell of her breast and the pure sweep of throat and shoulder.

  She was still unused to the feel of her hair and she touched it self-consciously as she followed the waiter across the room to where Luke was sitting.

  He was studying a wine list with ferocious concentration, dark brows drawn together and lean jaw set, unaware of her approach. His expression was dauntingly grim; he looked like a man who had relied on himself for so long that he had forgotten that others could offer warmth and comfort, and Kate, who had been feeling edgy and resentful of the way he had cast her into confusion, found herself swept by a contrary rush of tenderness so unexpected that she faltered.

  He looked up just then and saw her. At first incurious, impatient at his having his concentration broken, his gaze sharpened suddenly as he recognised his quiet, efficient secretary in the woman walking towards him.

  Kate wished she weren't so conscious of the subtly alluring sway of the skirt as she moved. She had never been so aware of her own body. She could feel Luke's eyes on her slender curves and longed for her coat, a cardigan, anything to wrap around her defensively.

  Luke was still holding the wine list. He laid it down very slowly as she came up to the table and then, as if suddenly aware of the waiter's surprised look, rose hastily to his feet.

  To Kate's relief, his eyes had left her body and rested on her face, as if he was still having trouble convincing himself that it was really her. She wished he would say something to break the silence, which threatened to become awkward.

  Instead, he glanced down at his watch.

  `I'm not late!' Kate found herself saying instinctively.

  Her sharpness seemed to break the spell, and a more familiar look of impatience closed over his face. `I didn't say you were.'

  `You didn't need to. You just looked at your watch in that very pointed way!'

  Kate allowed the waiter to pull out her chair and sat down, ruffled as much by the look that had been in Luke's eyes as she had walked towards him as by her uncharacteristic self-consciousness and the awful realisation that she had hoped he would do more than think about the time.

  A half-smile twisted Luke's mouth. `I was playing for time. I wasn't quite sure it was you until you snapped at me like that!'

  Kate's lips tightened. She shook the starched linen napkin out with a pointed flick of her wrists. `Of course it was me. A haircut doesn't change you that much!'

  `Evidently not.' Luke's voice was dry and Kate flushed slightly. He obviously thought she was being shrewish. She must pull herself together.

  `The hair's a great improvement,' he went on. `I told you it would look better short.'

  Hardly an effusive compliment! `Thank you,' Kate said crisply, determined not to let him guess that she was disappointed by his lack of interest.

  There was a short pause. Luke looked as if he was about to say something, then changed his mind.

  `I've ordered for you,' he said eventually, picking up the wine list once more. `I thought it would be easier.'

  `I'm perfectly capable of choosing my own meal, thank you,' Kate said frostily. `I have been to a restaurant before, and I won't need the menu translated!'

  Luke frowned, but he handed her the menu that lay by his plate with an irritable shrug. `Have it your own way.'

  Kate opened the menu and studied it with spurious interest. She didn't really care what she ate, but it seemed important to keep some control to herself. Luke had ordered her about enough for one day!

  Peeping over the top of the menu, she saw that he was intent on the wine list. In dinner-j jacket and bow-tie, he looked darkly, dourly attractive. The subdued lighting softened his features, but, when he looked up suddenly and met her gaze over the leather-bound lists, the slate eyes were as penetrating as ever.

  Kate dropped her eyes hastily back to the menu.

  `Have you decided yet?' Luke asked in a voice of long suffering as a waiter appeared at his elbow.

  `I'll have the salmon and sole roulade, and then the magret de canard.' She closed the menu with a defiant snap.

  `Sure?'

  'Yes, thank you.'

  `I was thinking of a Sauvignon to start with, and then a Chateau d'Yquem,' Luke said with

  heavy irony. `Is that acceptable, or would you like to choose the wine too?'

  'No, that sounds fine,' Kate said primly, folding her hands in her lap and refusing to rise to the bait.

  Luke turned to the waiter. `We'll have the salmon and sole, and then the duck-as I ordered previously.' When he had ordered the wine he turned back to meet Kate's accusing gaze.

  `What's the matter?'

  'Why didn't you tell me what you'd ordered?' 'What, and have you choose something different, just to be difficult? I chose what I thought you'd like. What's wrong with that?'

  'I've got a mind of my own,' Kate said with a touch of sullenness.

  `I'm well aware of that, Kate!'

  'You'd never guess it the way you've been treating me today!'

  `What do you mean by that?'

  'You choose my hairstyle, my clothes, my meal… I might as well be a plastic dummy sitting

  here!'

  `Don't be ridiculous!' Luke said crossly. `I thought we went through all that this morning?' `We agreed that you appreciated my work and that you'd make more effort to be pleasant.' `I have!'

  `I don't call it pleasant to make someone parade in front of you while you walk round them and criticise as if they were in some kind of cattle market!'

  'So that's why you were in such a bad mood all afternoon,' Luke said, inspecting the bottle of wine presented by the waiter. He waited until a small amount had been poured into his glass, then took a sip, and nodded. `Most women would have enjoyed having an afternoon at the hairdressers', not to mention a free wardrobe.'

  Kate waited until the waiter had finished pouring the wine. `I'm not most women,' she pointed out tartly as he left the bottle on the table and disappeared discreetly. `I'm me, and I don't appreciate being treated like… like some kind of bimbo!'

  To her chagrin, instead of looking contrite, Luke grinned. `Kate, you're the last person I'd treat as a bimbo!'

  She wished he wouldn't smile like that. Kate seized her glass and took a gulp of wine, trying to keep her eyes off the heart-wrenching lift of his mouth.

  `As far as I'm concerned,' Luke said, `you're a sensible and intelligent woman, and a damn sight too valuable to me to start treating like a sex object! I can't tell you what a relief it is to find a woman prepared to keep a relationship on a strictly business footing, and who doesn't expect to be showered with compliments!'

  `One every now and then wouldn't go amiss!'

  `I would have said that you look wonderful in that dress, but you'd probably just have accused me of being sexist!' For a moment their eyes clashed, and then Luke smiled ruefully. `I'm sorry,' he apologised. `It's just a bit of a shock to find my prim and pro
per secretary transformed so suddenly into something quite different!' He reached over and touched her hand briefly. `You look beautiful tonight, Kate. Is that better?'

  Kate was glad of the dim light that disguised the deep flush that swept up her throat. She withdrew her hand hastily, shaken by the way her heart had jolted at his touch.

  `I was only joking,' she muttered. `Sensible and intelligent were enough of a compliment!'

  `Were they? I don't know of any other woman who would have been satisfied with that!'

  'Ah, but as far as you're concerned I'm not a woman,' Kate said drily. `I'm your secretary.'

  Luke picked up his glass and looked at her over the rim, an enigmatic expression in his eyes.

  `When you look the way you do tonight it's hard to remember.'

  Kate felt as if she had stepped suddenly on to uncertain ground, and she took a hasty sip of wine while she tried desperately to think of a way to bring the conversation back to safe, familiar territory. She was tense, flustered by the warmth in his voice.

  `You said you wanted to talk to me about the trip to Paris,' she reminded him, wondering if her voice sounded that high and unnatural to him too. `Whom exactly are we going to meet?'

  She avoided looking directly at him, certain that he would read the silly, girlish flutterings of her heart in her eyes. She wasn't sixteen now, she chided herself. She was a grown woman, too sensible to misinterpret the most casual of compliments, the briefest of touches. This was a business dinner, that was all. True, Luke was being pleasant, but it really shouldn't set her heart pounding like this…

  Luke gave her a quick, keen look, but answered her readily enough. 'Philippe Robard and his grandson, who's also a director of the company. Robard owns the Oasis chain of hotels-you must have heard of them when you were in France?'

  When Kate nodded he went on, `He's expanding fast, with an eye to the UK in particular. You probably know that his speciality is buying up old buildings-mostly run-down chateaux and transforming them into five-star hotels. Everything top quality, of course, but with an eye to retaining the original character of the building as far as possible.'