Kate Walker

Flirting With Danger


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him down, or he loses interest in tormenting me and gives up. I just know I can’t bear the thought of him being out there—watching.’

      ‘Are you sure you’re not letting him win by giving in to him in this way—letting him ruin your life?’

      ‘Oh, you would say that! You’re a man!’ Catherine couldn’t believe she had actually trusted this man, poured her heart out to him, only to get this typical masculine response. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to live in fear-not to feel secure in your own home—’

      ‘It was a question that had to be asked.’

      ‘Of course you’d see it that way.’ Unable to bear that intent sea-coloured gaze any longer, she got to her feet in a restless, disturbed movement. ‘I don’t know why I ever told you.’

      If she had expected that confiding in him would bring a sense of relief, then she had been desperately wrong. Instead, she felt even more vulnerable than before, frightened by the way she had let a complete stranger into the carefully restricted, protective world that had enclosed her safely until now.

      ‘You obviously can’t or won’t help me.’

      ‘Did I say that?’

      It was his very stillness that shook her, making her stop dead in the middle of the room. Evan hadn’t moved an inch; he still sat in his chair, his hands lying loosely on its arms, his hard-boned face turned towards her. He was so big that even sitting down he didn’t have to tilt his head much to look up at her.

      ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, Catherine.’ The ominous quietness of his tone was somehow more disturbing than if he had shouted, and it dried Catherine’s mouth so that she had to swallow hard.

      ‘I—’ she began, not really knowing what she was going to say, but at that moment the shrill of the telephone slashed through her words. Immediately she froze, her eyes, dark with fear, going to her father.

      ‘Dad—’

      But Evan had already reacted. Getting up and out of his chair in one swift, lithe movement, he was in the hall and had snatched up the receiver before Catherine had even registered the action.

      ‘Yes?’ he snapped. ‘Who do you want to speak to? Who shall I say? If you’d just hold the line a minute, please.’

      ‘Please’, Catherine noted, relief breaking over her like a fierce wave, so that she had to cling to a nearby chair for support. Obviously not anyone she should fear, then. The release from the tension that held her prisoner every day was so intense that she felt tears prick at her eyes.

      ‘Catherine?’ Evan had his finger on the secrecy button of the phone. ‘Do you want to speak to someone called Ellie?’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ The strength returned to her legs at the sound of the familiar name. ‘It’s my agent,’ she explained, taking the telephone from his hand, expecting that he would move away, at least to a discreet distance. But instead he lingered, leaning back against the wall, his arms folded. ‘Ellie—is that you?’ She forced herself to ignore him.

      ‘None other,’ her friend’s voice said clearly on the other end of the line, and Catherine smiled to herself, picturing the older woman’s smiling face, her once bright red hair, now fading to a sort of pepper-and-salt effect. ‘Though I’m not sure I dare speak to you after that cross-examination. Just who is the pit bull, and is he as terrifying as he sounds?’

      ‘The—? Oh—yes.’

      As light dawned as to just what Ellie was talking about, Catherine couldn’t resist a swift, laughing glance across at where Evan stood, still very much on the alert.

      ‘Yes, he is,’ she managed, wondering if he had heard himself described as a guard dog.

      ‘All ripping teeth and vicious snarl?’

      ‘Hardly!’ This time her amused eyes met those watchful turquoise ones. ‘This is a private phone call, Evan,’ she added with a pointed glance at the door into the lounge.

      She might have spared herself the effort. Evan simply ignored her reaction, returning her look with disturbing lack of reaction, all emotion blanked out as if he hadn’t heard a word, and settled himself more firmly against the wall.

      ‘Evan, eh?’ Ellie had heard her aside. ‘So who might he be? Anyone interesting?’

      ‘Not at all.’ Furious at Evan’s deliberate rudeness, Catherine no longer cared what he heard, and she deliberately turned her back on him. ‘He’s just some security man who works for my father.’

      ‘And now for you, is that it? Are you finally seeing sense and hiring yourself a bodyguard? About time, too. So tell me—’ a hint of wicked humour lit Ellie’s voice ‘—what’s he like? I mean, we’ve all seen the film…’

      ‘Forget it, Ellie!’ The knowledge that Evan was still there, a silent observer of her every move, provoked some imp of mischief in her to add, ‘This guy’s no Kevin Costner—you were closer with the pit bull terrier.’

      ‘All brawn and no brain, huh?’ Ellie didn’t sound too disappointed. ‘Oh, well, that type’s good for other things, I suppose. I mean, if you can’t enjoy his conversation, at least you can enjoy something else…’

      ‘Ellie!’ As her friend’s salacious laugh made it plain exactly what she meant, Catherine struggled to resist the urge to look over her shoulder and see how Evan had taken that comment. ‘No one would believe you were a respectable, mature married lady. Anyway, it’s not like that.’

      ‘Not your type?’

      ‘Definitely not.’ The sudden prick of her conscience, reminding her of the sensual awareness she had felt while alone with Evan in the kitchen and at other points of the evening, gave Catherine’s tone an unwarranted decisiveness. ‘Besides, I’m definitely off men at the moment, after all that’s happened.’

      ‘Of course you are, love.’ Ellie’s tone had sobered. ‘It must be hell to feel so hunted. That’s why I rang, to find out how things are on that front. Any news?’

      ‘If you mean do the police have any leads, then the answer’s no. And I daren’t go back to my flat—I reckon I’ll- Hey!’

      She broke off on a cry that was a mixture of nervous reaction and outraged fury as there was a sudden movement from behind her and Evan’s strong finger came down hard on the disconnect button, cutting her off abruptly.

      ‘What the hell did you do that for?’ Blue eyes blazing, she swung round to face him. ‘Just what do you think you were doing?’

      ‘Stopping you from giving too much away,’ was the imperturbable reply.

      ‘But Ellie’s my friend, for God’s sake! She wouldn’t—’

      ‘No? Can you be sure of that?’

      ‘Of course I can. I’ve known her almost all my life; she was like a mother to me when mine walked out. She wouldn’t—you can’t think that!’

      ‘All I know is that you were about to tell her exactly what your plans are, and as far as I’m concerned the fewer people who know, the better. You did ask me to help,’ he pointed out, with an infuriatingly exaggerated reasonableness that set Catherine’s teeth on edge.

      ‘But not in this arrogant manner!’ Ruthlessly Catherine ignored the memory of her own voice pleading, ‘Help me,’ a short time before. ‘Ellie is my friend!’

      ‘In that case she’ll understand. And if nothing else, your friend has a very loud mouth. If you want my opinion.’

      ‘I don’t think I do!’

      Catherine slammed the phone back down onto its rest and, turning on her heel, stalked back into the lounge, her head high. Right now, she felt that having to put up with Evan Lindsay’s high-handed behaviour was too high a price to pay even