it.
She rang the land-line number he had given her rather than the mobile, praying that an answering machine would cut in enabling her to parrot off her details without speaking to him. At least that was what she told herself she was praying for, refusing to acknowledge the curling excitement in the pit of her stomach at the thought of hearing that rich, deep voice again.
It was with something of an anticlimax, therefore, when the phone was picked up at the other end and a female voice said, ‘Jennifer Blake. Can I help you?’
His mother? But the voice sounded too young. His wife? No, he hadn’t had the look of a man who was married. And then she told herself not to be so ridiculous. Women the whole world over were fooled by men who didn’t look or behave as though they were married! As her work proved daily.
Liberty cleared her throat carefully. ‘This is Liberty Fox. I’m ringing to—’
‘Oh, yes, Carter told me you might ring. Hang on a mo, I’ll just call him.’
‘No, that’s not necessary. If you’ll—’ But she was talking to thin air. She could hear someone calling Carter in the background and her heart increased its rapid beat until she felt as though it was banging against her ribcage.
There was a few seconds pause, and then she heard a click which meant an extension had been picked up. ‘Liberty?’ The deep voice sent goose pimples all over her body. ‘I’ve been waiting for your call.’
She wrinkled her brow. What did that mean? Was it just a polite way of starting the conversation or did he mean he really had been waiting to hear from her again? It was safer to assume the former. She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got those details you wanted, Mr Blake,’ she said formally.
‘Carter.’ It was pleasant but firm.
‘I beg your pardon?’ She hoped she didn’t sound fluttery.
‘You’ve caused some scratches on my immaculate paintwork,’ he drawled easily. ‘The least you can do is to come down off your high horse and call me by name.’
She opened her mouth to reply but then he added, ‘And you can put the phone down in the hall now, Jen.’ There was no answer to this but the phone was replaced with a definite click. ‘My sister,’ he said mockingly. ‘My very nosy sister.’
‘Oh, right.’ For some reason she wasn’t sure of why she hadn’t thought of siblings. He seemed such a one-off somehow.
‘Now, perhaps you can start off by giving me your telephone number and address?’ The smoky voice was suddenly brisk and matter-of-fact and it took her by surprise.
‘Yes, of course.’ She rattled off the information, but when she got to the insurance details he stopped her.
‘I don’t need your registration number or insurance company, Liberty,’ he said quietly. ‘Not for a dinner date.’
Her heart gave up trying to escape through her chest and jumped up into her throat. ‘I…I don’t think…’ Her voice sounded as though she was choking. She coughed, telling herself to get a grip. ‘I thought we had agreed that wasn’t an option,’ she said firmly.
‘No. You made a very unkind supposition as to my motives for asking you out which I think I corrected in such a way as to clear the air,’ he returned pleasantly. ‘That being the case, I can see no reason why we can’t have an enjoyable evening in each other’s company.’
It sounded so reasonable. She frowned. So there had to be a catch somewhere. ‘I’m afraid I’m working hard at the moment,’ she said carefully, ‘so I’m not dating.’
‘With the normal, run of the mill man, maybe. But I’m different.’ It was supremely arrogant, and even when he qualified the outrageous statement with, ‘I’m different because you owe me, Liberty. You did cause the accident, remember? I might have been badly hurt,’ imperiousness was still paramount.
‘You weren’t.’ She suspected a ten ton truck would make no impact on Carter Blake, let alone her little car.
‘I said I might have been. Think what a shock it was to have a car suddenly leap out in front of me like that. A lesser man might have had a heart attack on the spot.’
Involuntarily she smiled, and then was thankful he couldn’t see his charm was working. No doubt he always had women falling down like ninepins with one lift of his eyebrows! She schooled her voice to hide any amusement as she said, ‘You didn’t have a heart attack and the only thing that was hurt was my car—with a few scratches on yours which I’ve already said I’ll pay for,’ she added quickly.
‘I don’t want you to pay. I want you to have dinner with me.’
She put a hand to her brow. If she related this conversation to anyone else they would think she was stark staring mad not to snap his hand off. Repairs to a Mercedes’ paintwork wouldn’t be cheap, she hadn’t fooled herself about that, but…She swallowed hard. He clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer; that was the bottom line. She might just as well agree to see him once and then that would be that. ‘All right, I’ll have dinner with you,’ she said a touch ungraciously.
He didn’t comment on her churlishness. ‘Good.’ There was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice. ‘Tomorrow being Saturday you’ll have all day to get ready.’
‘Hang on, I didn’t say I was free tomorrow,’ she protested immediately. How dared he assume she was at his beck and call?
‘Are you?’ he enquired pleasantly.
‘Yes, as it happens, but I might not have been,’ she said, knowing she sounded unnecessarily belligerent.
‘You said you weren’t dating at the moment.’ His voice was insultingly patient, as though he was talking to a recalcitrant child. ‘That being the case, I assumed the most important thing you might have on was washing your hair.’
‘I also said I was working hard,’ she pointed out tartly. ‘I might have had a schedule I couldn’t change.’
‘You’d still have to eat some time,’ he said reasonably.
She gave up. She had the feeling that Carter Blake always won an argument and maybe it was better to get it over and done with.
He’d assumed victory because he carried on with barely a pause. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven, okay? And you needn’t dress up too much. The restaurant I’m taking you to is smart casual with the emphasis on excellent food.’
‘Right.’ She’d assumed they would be dining at the Phoenix but he’d obviously got something else in mind. She hesitated a moment before saying, ‘Thank you.’ It was grudging.
‘My pleasure,’ Carter replied, his voice holding only the faintest trace of amusement. ‘Goodnight, Liberty.’
‘Goodnight.’ She put down the telephone in something of a daze and sat staring at it for a full minute before she could persuade herself to move. And not for the world would she have admitted to herself that she’d known all along that Carter would get his way and that, moreover, she had wanted him to.
Her mind had still been buzzing when she went to bed, but contrary to what she’d expected Liberty awoke the next morning after a deep, satisfying sleep. She lay for some minutes in the warmth of her double bed, gazing across the room at the picture she had bought when she’d first moved into the house. She had seen it in a little art gallery round the corner from the office and had fallen in love with it immediately, knowing she had to have it even though it had been wildly expensive at a time when she was watching every penny.
The snowy garden depicted was beautifully painted, the setting sun turning the snow rosy pink in parts, but it was the two figures to the forefront of the picture which always brought an aching warmth into her chest. The mother was kneeling in the snow with her arms wide open to receive the laughing little girl running to meet her, the snowman the child had been working on