The lift stopped, and she got out and walked along the corridor. The lighting was subdued, and the carpet under her feet felt thick, muffling her footsteps.
She stopped outside Matt Lincoln’s door and subduing an urge to run away very fast and very ignominiously, she lifted a hand to ring the bell.
But before she could do so, the door opened abruptly.
Matt Lincoln stood staring at her, the dark brows lifted questioningly. He was casually dressed this evening, with faded blue denims encasing his long legs, and a black woollen shirt unbuttoned to reveal the strong column of his throat.
Kate moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. She said, ‘Mr Lincoln, you won’t remember me, but …’
‘I remember you perfectly,’ he said sardonically. ‘You’re the bridesmaid with an equal aversion to dancing and to me. What an unexpected pleasure. Won’t you come in?’
He waved her into the flat, his mouth slanting mockingly at her obvious reluctance.
The room he showed her into seemed enormous, with pale walls and acres of olive brown carpet. Two big sofas upholstered in an abstract design of brown, orange and gold faced each other on either side of an imposing fireplace, and a huge antique desk, heavy with carving, stood beneath the window, but there seemed little occasional furniture and no clutter. A massive shelving unit occupied the length of one wall, part of it housing sophisticated hi-fi and television equipment, including a video tape recorder, and the rest crammed with books.
‘At the flick of a switch, it transforms into a bed,’ Matt Lincoln said smoothly. ‘And mirrors come popping out of the ceiling.’ He grinned maliciously at her startled expression. ‘Relax, Miss Marston. This is my home, not Bluebeard’s chamber. What the hell were you expecting?’
She said stiffly, ‘I’m sorry if I gave the impression …’
He made a gesture of impatience. ‘Forget it. Can I get you a drink?’
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. This—this isn’t exactly a social call.’ She swallowed. ‘I expect you’re wondering why I’m here.’
‘I am indeed,’ he said. ‘But I’m sure you’re going to tell me. Do you want to sit down, or is it the kind of thing that needs to be said standing?’
There was music playing softly in the background, nothing she recognised, a persuasive mixture of drums and guitars and some kind of wind instrument.
He said, ‘Do you want the music turned off, Miss Marston? I guarantee that I won’t ask you to dance again.’
She looked at him with fierce contempt. ‘Very amusing! You find everything a great joke, don’t you, Mr Lincoln?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘And that particular incident even less hilarious than most. Anyway, we’ve established that you don’t want a drink, and you don’t want to sit down. I, on the other hand, intend to do both.’
She watched him pour a measure of Chivas Regal into a glass. He lifted the tumbler towards her with heavy irony. ‘I drink to your good health, Miss Marston,’ he said. ‘I imagine that’s a safer proposition than our better acquaintance.’
He sauntered across the room and flung himself down on one of the sofas, casually insolent, leaving Kate on her feet and stranded in the middle of the room—as he’d no doubt intended, she thought furiously.
‘Lost for words, Miss Marston?’ He watched her over the top of the glass, the blue eyes examining her with frank arrogance—stripping her, she realised with mortification, slow colour creeping into her face. ‘Now that must be a novelty.’
She lifted her chin, her hazel eyes flashing disdain at him. ‘It doesn’t take a lot of saying, Mr Lincoln. I’d like you to leave Alison alone.’
There was a long loaded silence, then he said, ‘I think you’d better explain exactly what you mean.’
Kate swallowed. ‘Please—don’t let’s be hypocritical. The fact is I saw you together at Père Nicolas.’
‘A public restaurant, ‘he said. ‘In broad daylight. No big deal.’
‘No,’ she said steadily. ‘But I’ve seen Alison since—and she’s told me everything.’
‘Then perhaps in turn you could enlighten me.’ He sounded almost indifferent, and she had to control a little spurt of temper.
She said flatly, ‘She’s told me that you’ve offered her her old job back, starting with a trip to the Caribbean in a week or two.’
‘How indiscreet of her!’ His voice slowed to a drawl. ‘So?’
She stared at him. ‘You do realise that if she goes with you, it will probably be the end of her marriage?’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘But has it been definitely established that she is coming with me?’
‘The fact that it was ever suggested—that she’s considering it, is bad enough,’ Kate said fiercely, and he laughed.
‘How very moral of you! Has it ever occurred to you that Alison is quite old enough to decide for herself what she wants from life—and whom, for that matter.’
‘In normal circumstances, yes,’ she said. ‘But—but she doesn’t seem very happy just now. Frankly, this—intervention of yours couldn’t have come at a worse time.’
‘I’d noticed she wasn’t happy. Why should that be, do you suppose?’
Kate waved a dismissive hand. ‘I don’t know. But I’m sure that left to themselves, they can work it out. Only you’re involved now and Alison has been under your sphere of influence so long that I don’t believe she can think straight when you’re around.’
‘Not Bluebeard after all, but Svengali,’ he said almost idly, staring at the amber glow of the whisky as if it fascinated him. ‘Well, well. Does Alison know that you’ve come here, by any chance?’
‘No, she doesn’t.’
The blue eyes watched her coldly. ‘Then she didn’t fling herself on her knees begging you to save her from herself—and from me?’
‘Of course not,’ Kate said impatiently. ‘I’ve told you, she doesn’t realise …’
‘What’s she’s doing,’ he completed for her smoothly. ‘Odd. When she worked for me before she seemed to be in reasonable control of her faculties. But fortunately, she has you to act as arbiter of her morals. May I ask why?’
Kate was slightly taken aback. ‘Because Jon is my brother, and I don’t want him hurt.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you mean stepbrother?’
‘Does it really make a difference?’
‘A fundamental one, I’d have thought.’ He gave her a long dispassionate look. ‘Are you here at his request, perhaps?’
‘No,’ Kate said angrily. ‘And you can thank your stars that he knows nothing about it. If he knew that you were planning to take Alison away with you, even on a legitimate business trip, he’d be ready to kill you!’
‘Perhaps I should hire a bodyguard.’ Matt Lincoln drank some more whisky.
‘Perhaps you should just leave his wife alone.’ She looked at him fiercely. ‘It’s not fair to tempt her like this when she’s at a low ebb. And you don’t really need her. There’s probably a long queue of idiot women who’d give all they possessed to go to the Caribbean with you.’
‘You flatter me.’ The blue eyes glittered at her.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t imagine you get many refusals.’
‘You, of course, being one of the exceptions.’ The smile that twisted the firm, sensual mouth was not a pleasant one.