Don’t be silly,’ Ned blushed. ‘I came to see you. I think I was frightfully boring about Diana last night. You must tell me to sod off occasionally, you know. I’m a big boy, I can take it.’
‘In that case,’ said Catriona, ‘you can sod off down to the stables and wait for them. Tell Ivan to sort out the horses and bring Kendall and Hector in for some cake.’
It had struck her last night, belatedly, that Kendall Bryce might be just the distraction Ned needed to get over Diana’s sudden abandonment. She was about his age, very pretty, and she seemed a sweet sort of girl, not at all the spoiled madam that Jack had warned her about at Ivan’s birthday party. That is, if Hector would let poor Ned get a word in edgeways. Her son had been glued to Kendall’s side like a pre-teen, hormonal limpet since the moment the girl had arrived.
‘Go on,’ she said kindly to Ned. ‘Shoo!’
By the time Ned reached the yard, Irene already had all three horses on leading reins and was filling much-needed buckets of water. Hector, temporarily distracted from Kendall’s bodaciousness by a new delivery of hay bales, was leaping happily from the top of the barn into a makeshift crash pad when Ned arrived.
‘Don’t let your mum see you doing that,’ Ned shouted as Hector performed a dramatic commando roll onto the muddy ground. ‘And by the way, it’s tea time. Where’s your dad and Kendall?’
Hector nodded towards the tack room. ‘In there. Tell Mum I’ll be there in a minute.’
Tucking in his shirt and making a token effort to smooth down his hair, Ned walked into the tack room. ‘Knock knock,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’ve been sent to inform you that tea’s on the … table.’
The smile died on his lips. Ivan had Kendall pinned against the wall. They weren’t kissing, but his knee was pressed into her groin and his distinctly predatory face was less than an inch from hers. As soon as he heard Ned, Ivan stepped back, and did his best to act as if nothing had happened. ‘Jolly good,’ he grinned. ‘I’m famished. I’ll see you in there, shall I?’
Ned didn’t move as Ivan brushed past him. He was still looking at Kendall. Her dark-blue shirt was unbuttoned just low enough to show a hint of cleavage and was coming untucked from her tight white riding breeches. She looked tousled, sexy, and more than a little guilty.
‘Oh, come on,’ she said to Ned. ‘Don’t give me the evil eye. It was just a bit of harmless flirting. Nothing happened.’
‘It would have, though, wouldn’t it? If I hadn’t come in.’
‘Of course not,’ Kendall said brusquely. She always got defensive when she knew she was in the wrong. ‘Ivan’s a colleague.’
‘Ivan’s a shit,’ said Ned bluntly. ‘And Catriona—’
‘Oh, yes, I know, I know, she’s marvellous and he doesn’t deserve her. I’ve heard it all before.’
Ned frowned. Last night he’d got the impression of Kendall as a sweet, funny girl. A little vain, perhaps, but certainly not an out-and-out bitch. He was disappointed.
Registering the emotion on his face, Kendall shot back, ‘If he’s such a shit, and you’re so loyal to his wife, why do you let him represent you? Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?’
‘I’m not sleeping with him,’ said Ned.
‘Nor am I!’
‘Not yet.’ Turning on his heel, Ned left Kendall standing there.
Lex Abrahams was fast asleep when the phone rang.
After a gruelling, insanely long day’s shooting out in Palm Desert (Enrique Iglesias had seen the shots Lex had done of Kendall Bryce last month and decided he wanted a similar look for his own new album), Lex got back to LA to a mountain of editing and paperwork and hadn’t collapsed into bed until after three.
Glancing groggily at his bedside clock now, he saw it was ten o’clock. No doubt the call was from Jack Messenger, dumping another ten tons of work into Lex’s in-tray. There was a reason Lex Abrahams had agreed to work for Jester, but right now he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.
He picked up the receiver. ‘Hello?’
‘What’s wrong with your voice?’ Kendall asked accusingly. ‘You sound like you’ve been gargling with sandpaper.’
Lex cleared his throat, wishing he didn’t feel so stupidly elated to hear from her. ‘Late night.’
‘Partying? Lucky you.’
‘Working actually. How are you? How’s England?’
‘It sucks.’ Without drawing breath, she proceeded to moan about everything from having her Dorchester reservation cancelled, to her show and rehearsal schedule, to Ivan Charles’s ‘holier than thou’ clients presuming to try to tell her how to live her life. ‘As if I don’t get enough of that shit from Jack. How is he, by the way?’
Lex could hear how much effort she put into trying to keep her tone casual.
‘Jack’s fine, Kendall.’
‘D’you think he’s missing me a little bit?’
‘It’s only been a few days, honey,’ Lex said kindly. ‘How’s Ivan Charles? Is he as disgraceful as everyone says?’
‘Actually, he’s a good guy,’ said Kendall. ‘He’s fun. Good-looking too.’ Lex suppressed a pang of jealousy. ‘That’s probably why Jack hates him.’
‘I wouldn’t say he hates him,’ Lex yawned, stretching out his arms like a cat. ‘More like disapproves.’
‘I miss you, Lexy,’ Kendall said suddenly, her voice taking on the needy, little-girlish quality it often did when she was bored or in need of attention. ‘I wish you could have come with me. Can’t you ask Jack to fly you out?’
Lex felt his stomach flip over like a pancake. Deep down he knew she didn’t really want him there. Or, if she did, it certainly wasn’t in the way he wanted her. But every time Kendall threw him a straw of hope, he clutched at it like an idiot. If she had any idea how much he missed her, how constantly she filled his thoughts, she wouldn’t say these things and torture him. At least he hoped she wouldn’t. For all her many faults, Lex didn’t think of Kendall as deliberately cruel.
‘Sorry,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve got three albums and a ton of editing to do before you get back. I’ll be lucky if Jack gives me five minutes off to go to the bathroom. Anyway, you’re only there a few weeks. You should try and make the most of London while you can.’
At The Rookery, upstairs in the blue guest bedroom, Kendall gazed glumly out of the window. It had been a lovely day today, exhilarating and flirtatious and fun, until Ned Williams had come along and given her a guilt trip. Sometimes she felt as if Lex Abrahams was the only person in the world who was unconditionally on her side. If only he were a bit more attractive, and a lot richer, he’d make a perfect husband.
Well, almost perfect.
There would only ever be one Jack Messenger.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jack Messenger leaned back in his two-thousand-dollar ergonomic Therapod office chair and felt a warm rush of satisfaction.
He always enjoyed coming to work. Jester’s offices at the top of Beverly Glen, near Mulholland Drive, had some of the most spectacular views in Los Angeles. Jack’s corner office was almost all window. In one direction lay the shimmering blue Pacific with Catalina Island in the distance. In the other, the jutting skyscrapers of downtown LA were framed by a ring of perfect, snow-capped mountains, encircling the city like benevolent giants. It was hard to get depressed in Jack’s home city; in a space so flooded with light, so energized with sunshine and blue skies and astonishing