Kathryn Ross

Whisper Of Scandal


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      ‘Well...’ He hesitated. ‘I thought it would be a good idea to bring you out to my house for lunch.’

      ‘Oh!’ She frowned. Somehow it didn’t seem right to go to his home, not when Nadine knew nothing about her; it seemed devious somehow. ‘What about your housekeeper? Won’t she think it’s funny that I’m having lunch with you?’

      ‘Don’t worry about Sadie; she’ll just think that you are coming to take notes. I’ve told her I’m having a working lunch.’ He smiled reassuringly at her. ‘I’ve decided we need to have a good heart-to-heart talk and the only place we won’t be interrupted is in my study.’

      He was probably right. They did need to talk. It had been a hell of a shock to find out that Garth Fraiser was her father, especially when her mother had led her to believe that her father was dead. She still found it hard to comprehend.

      She had spotted the advertisement for the job as Garth’s private secretary in a newspaper—or rather her mother had drawn her attention to it. It had been ideal, exactly what she had been looking for, and she had gone for an interview with high hopes. She’d known her qualifications were good and so were her references, but she’d also known that competition for the job would be stiff. She had been ecstatic when she’d got the job.

      Working for Garth had been exhausting at times but she had enjoyed every moment of it. He had worked her hard but he had always been fair with her and she had respected him greatly.

      Then just a few months ago when her mother had died in a tragic motorway accident, leaving Sabrina devastated, Garth had been wonderful. He had given her as much time off as she needed in order to sort things out. He had been kind and sympathetic and had even offered to help her with the arrangements for the funeral. At the time she had thought it was exceptionally kind of him, and she had been touched by his generosity, but she had never for one moment suspected the truth.

      It had been two weeks after Lucy Harrington’s death that she’d discovered her diaries. It was then that she’d discovered that her mother had known Garth Fraiser years ago. That the two had in fact attended the same university and later they had both worked in the same law firm before Garth had got involved in politics. This had puzzled her intensely. Why hadn’t her mother mentioned that she knew her boss? Why the secrecy?

      She had sat down to read the rest of the diaries with avid curiosity. What she had discovered had changed her whole life and she had been angry, bitterly angry that her mother had lied to her, that Garth had deceived her. Had he only given her the job as his secretary because of who she was? That question had haunted and humiliated her, and her first move had been to quit her job and to tell Garth Fraiser exactly what she thought of him.

      Now her anger and her shock had cooled and she could feel sorrow at the situation, sympathy for her mother and for Garth. Lord, it was all such a mess. She pushed a hand through her hair in a distraught gesture. If only her mother had told her the truth... if only.

      ‘Damn!’ Garth pulled the car to a standstill at the gateway to a large Victorian house.

      ‘What is it?’ Sabrina’s gaze darted from her father to the house in front of them. Even as she asked the question she noticed the bright red Porsche parked on the gravel drive.

      ‘Marc’s here,’ Garth answered flatly.

      Sabrina’s heart seemed to take up a rapid nervous tattoo immediately. ‘What should we do?’

      With a sigh Garth started the car forward again. ‘Brazen it out,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll tell him you’ve come to do some important work for me. With a bit of luck he won’t stay.’ He grinned at her then. ‘Actually there is a stack of work you could do for me. I really miss you at the office, Brina; your replacement isn’t half as efficient.’

      ‘I’m sure you’re just being kind,’ Sabrina said lightly. ‘But thank you.’

      ‘No, I’m being honest,’ Garth replied earnestly as he pulled up outside his front door. ‘If you could see the state of my desk in there——’ he nodded towards the house ‘—you would know what I mean.’

      As they got out of the car Garth glanced across at her. ‘Are you all right, Sabrina? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

      ‘I’m fine.’ It was a lie; she was far from fine. She had just remembered that she had told Marc she had a date this afternoon. What on earth was she going to say to him?

      He was in the lounge idly flicking through a magazine, his long legs stretched out, his dark head resting against the pale gold brocade of the settee as if he had all the time in the world to kill. He stood up as they came in and his eyebrows lifted slightly as he took in Sabrina’s presence. ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ he drawled softly. ‘I thought you had a date this afternoon, Sabrina?’

      She could feel her cheeks going hotter under his intense scrutiny. ‘Would you believe he had to cancel me at the last moment?’ Somehow she managed to inject a humorous note into her voice. ‘Some important business cropped up.’ She hated lying like that; she could feel herself tensing up inside, waiting for lightning to strike her down for such a falsehood.

      ‘I do find it rather difficult to believe, actually.’ The hard words took her very much by surprise for a moment, then he softened them with a smile. ‘The man obviously has no sense.’

      ‘Well, his loss is my gain.’ Garth smiled. ‘Sabrina has very kindly offered to come and help me out with a bit of paperwork this afternoon.’

      ‘Very considerate.’ Marc’s dark eyes never left Sabrina’s face as he spoke.

      ‘Can I get you a drink, Marc?’ Garth moved towards the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky.

      ‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a coffee,’ Marc replied easily.

      ‘Oh, right, I’ll just go and ask Sadie.’ Garth put down his drink and looked at Sabrina. ‘What about you, Brina? Would you like coffee or something stronger?’

      ‘Coffee would be nice.’ Sabrina sat down on one of the comfortable two-seater settees which were at each side of the fireplace. She wished Garth wouldn’t call her Brina in front of Marc... it sounded far too intimate.

      They were left alone and Sabrina felt her nerves flutter apprehensively as she looked up at Garth’s stepson.

      He leaned a hand against the mantelpiece and stared down at her for a moment as if in deep thought. Sabrina felt that familiar tug at the bottom of her stomach. He looked magnificent, she thought abruptly. He had a wonderful physique, broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips in the well-cut grey suit. She collided with his dark eyes and looked hurriedly away from him.

      ‘So how about dinner tonight?’ he asked suddenly into the silence.

      She took a deep breath. ‘I can’t, Marc.’ It had never been so difficult to turn down a date; she desperately wanted to say yes.

      ‘Such loyalty,’ he murmured. ‘You must be very serious about this man, to let him stand you up and still remain so devoted.’

      She shrugged and her mind searched for some answer. The awful thing about telling lies was that it seemed to snowball; you told one small one and then others had invariably to follow. It was like painting a picture—you were never quite sure when you had finished; you could keep adding things and adding things and end up in a real muddle.

      ‘He didn’t stand me up,’ she said in a dignified tone. ‘He rang me and told me he couldn’t make it.’

      ‘Oh, I see.’ Marc’s lips curved in a cynical smile. ‘Who is this paragon of virtue, anyway?’

      There it was, the question she had been dreading. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t know him,’ she said airily. ‘He... he’s in computers.’

      ‘Really?’ There was that tinge of sardonic humour in his voice again. Sabrina frowned, but before she had time to analyse Marc’s attitude Garth came