a house, or buying a car on hire-purchase.’
Laura’s smooth brow creased. ‘You won’t have to mortgage the house, will you?’
‘The house! It wouldn’t begin to cover—’ Xavier scowled. ‘Wherever did you get that idea?’
‘I suppose,’ Briar said, ‘you could sell the Heaphy.’
‘A few thousand dollars!’ Xavier gave a rather harsh laugh. ‘It won’t come to that. I told you, it’s nothing to worry about.’
He bent his attention to the cold mutton on his plate. Briar’s eyes met Laura’s over the table. Laura’s blue gaze was clouded, and the frown had not left her face.
* * *
The phone rang as the two women were stacking the dishwasher after lunch, and Laura went to answer it. Hearing her muted voice in the hall, Briar assumed the call was for her stepmother. But after a minute or two Laura called, ‘Briar—can you come to the phone?’
As Briar took the receiver, Laura whispered, ‘It’s Kynan Roth!’ She retreated back to the kitchen as Briar lifted the receiver to her ear.
‘Thank you for the flowers,’ Briar said formally. ‘They’re beautiful.’
‘I’m glad you like them. Have you forgiven me, yet?’
She deliberately let half a second elapse before she said coolly, ‘Of course.’
Faint laughter came down the line. ‘But not entirely? Let me make amends—’
‘I thought that was what the flowers were for.’
‘They haven’t done the trick, have they? I’d like to take you to dinner tonight, if you’re free.’
‘On the theory that an evening in your company will “do the trick”?’ she enquired drily.
‘Nasty, Briar! On the theory that a good dinner in a comfortable restaurant might have a soothing effect. Where would you like to go?’
‘With you? I’m not sure that I want to go anywhere.’
Laura appeared in the kitchen doorway, a plate in her hand, her expression tense. She’d been listening, Briar realised. As her eyes met Briar’s, she gave an apologetic smile and ducked back.
‘But you are free tonight?’ Kynan was asking.
As she debated over whether to admit she was, he said, ‘Have you been to Benedict’s?’
‘Not yet.’ It was a new place that had opened in a blaze of publicity. The owners were said to have lured the best chef in town from his previous position in the kitchen of a top hotel.
‘I’ll book us a table,’ he said. ‘Pick you up at seven, OK?’
She wanted to tell him no, it wasn’t OK at all. But Laura’s disquiet had communicated itself to her. She hesitated and was lost.
‘See you then,’ Kynan said. And she was left holding the phone, with the dialling tone humming in her ear.
* * *
She wore an apricot wild silk jacket over a flowered skirt and soft jade green blouse, and put on the highest heels in her wardrobe, remembering that Kynan Roth was a tall man. She didn’t want him towering over her.
He arrived promptly and she opened the door to him herself. Laura had already served a meal for herself and Xavier, and they were watching a favourite programme in the TV room. ‘Briar’s going out with Kynan Roth,’ Laura had told Xavier brightly.
Watching her father’s face, Briar thought he seemed almost disconcerted. Then he’d said, a shade too loudly, ‘Well, that’s nice, Briar. Must have taken a fancy to you.’
* * *
Kynan ushered her into the passenger seat of a shiny dark blue car. He had manners, if nothing else, she reflected. And quickly amended that—as well as everything else. Money, good looks, power, and the sex appeal that went with them. All the superficial advantages were his.
And superficial they were, she reminded herself as he slid into the driver’s seat, smiling at her before starting the engine. There were more important qualities that she looked for in a man. Compassion, kindness, understanding, the capacity to love, and a sense of humour.
He had that last, but she wasn’t sure if there was any warmth or gentleness behind it. An ability to laugh at others didn’t necessarily go with an equal willingness to laugh at oneself.
She concentrated on the view from the side-window—the big, rambling old houses and professional buildings lining Remuera Road. But as Kynan stopped for a red light she peeped speculatively at his profile, eyeing the jutting nose and strong chin.
He turned as though he’d felt her gaze, and asked, ‘What’s that for?’
‘What?’ She looked away, watching a woman walk by on the pavement with a Siamese cat on a leash.
‘That look you just gave me,’ he said.
‘I was wondering if you can laugh at yourself.’ She raised her chin and met his eyes.
‘Think I can’t?’ He stared back at her.
Behind them a horn tooted gently. ‘The light’s changed,’ she told him.
He gave the other driver a wave, and sent the car gliding over the intersection. Picking up speed, he kept his eyes on the road and the traffic. ‘You didn’t seem to think I was particularly funny,’ he said, ‘last night.’
Last night she’d thought he was particularly insulting. ‘I wasn’t thinking of last night. Just...in general.’
‘Well...’ He slanted her a glance. ‘Perhaps you’ll find out, in time.’
Which suggested that they’d be seeing each other again after tonight.
They cruised through the Newmarket shopping area, and then crested a hill and drove past the colonial-style shops and trendy eating places in Parnell village. He didn’t speak again until they reached the restaurant down near the harbour, and he let her out of the car.
Briar half expected him to take over ordering her meal for her. Instead he allowed her to make her own choice and consulted her preference before deciding on the wine. The restaurant was crowded, but their table, lit by a single candle and discreetly dim wall-lighting, was screened by a couple of plants and a trellised partition, and next to a window overlooking a glimpse of the Waitemata Harbour. She wondered if he’d asked for it specially. ‘Have you been here before?’ she asked him.
‘Once. The food’s good. And the service.’
‘And the view.’ The darkened water reflected the lights of the city near the shore. Further out the moonlight had washed it with a subtle silvery patina. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘Mm-hmm.’ But when she looked back, his eyes were on her face. ‘You’re looking wonderful tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ve been telling myself all day you couldn’t be as beautiful as I remembered.’
‘I...thank you.’ She wasn’t unaccustomed to compliments. She’d travelled in Italy and France, and the men there weren’t backward in their comments on a woman’s appearance. But she was oddly flustered now. He didn’t sound admiring, but rather as if he was reporting a fact, almost clinically detached.
He said, ‘I’ve never seen eyes that colour before. Like moonlight on water.’
Instinctively she glanced out at the moonlit harbour, and returned her gaze to his in frank disbelief.
Kynan looked briefly out at the view, too. ‘Not quite the same, I admit. They remind me of nightfall in the Islands.’
Briar gave a little laugh.
‘What’s funny?’
‘My