Echoing his thoughts, Amanda said bitterly, ‘Brent’s already spent the best part of thirty thousand dollars on her.’
‘A car?’
She paused, then made up her mind to tell him. ‘A diamond ring.’
And that, Kain decided, he liked even less. ‘Did he tell you that?’
‘Of course he didn’t. He must have bought it before he moved into that ridiculous penthouse, because the valuation documents came to my address.’
Mildly shocked, Kain asked, ‘And you opened the letter?’
‘I didn’t even look at the address,’ she told him indignantly. ‘Well, not until after I picked myself up off the floor!’
Kain leaned back in his chair. ‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘I thought you could get someone from your security branch to look into this Sable person,’ his aunt said, a little diffidently this time.
‘My security men are paid to look after my business interests, not my personal ones.’
‘I know, but in this case…’ Her voice trailed away.
Kain gave her a sardonic smile. ‘I’ll get them to check. As an employer I can’t approve of stealing.’
‘And I thought you might make a play for her,’ his aunt said in a rush.
‘There’s no one quite so ruthless as a devoted mother,’ Kain said cynically. ‘You must be seriously worried if you’re prepared to sacrifice Brent’s feelings as well as my time, my reputation, and his opinion of me.’
‘Since when have you cared about what Brent thinks of you?’ she shot back, flushing.
Actually, he valued his friendship with his cousin, but if this Sable Martin turned out to be a thief he was quite prepared to do what he could to protect Brent from any entanglement.
And if Kain had learned anything in his life it was that everything, even his aunt’s affection, came with a price tag. ‘I’ll get back to you.’
She wasn’t satisfied, but she knew when to stop pushing. Kain had given his word, and that meant it would be done. If there was anything at all suspicious in Sable Jane Martin’s past, he’d soon know.
Narrowing his eyes, Kain looked over the heads of the crowd. Auckland’s pre-Christmas racing carnival was in full swing; New Zealand’s summer had swept into town, and, as well as the graceful thoroughbreds, elegant women in exquisite clothes were parading for an extremely attractive prize.
Kain’s gaze homed in on the woman wearing a simple, superbly cut dress in soft dove-grey that contrasted with the pale purity of her skin and a black shimmer of hair beneath the frivolous hat. High heels emphasised long, glorious legs, and the silk clung to a narrow waist and curves that were alluring without being opulent. The only colour in the outfit was the true, vivid red of the lipstick that emphasised the woman’s sultry mouth.
Definitely not Brent’s usual type.
From just behind Kain a woman said, ‘That’s Maire Faris’s entry. It’s superb, but she won’t win.’
‘Too restrained,’ her companion agreed. ‘The judges always go for feathers and tulle and lots of overt glamour at these events. Who’s the model?’
Kain didn’t try to resist the temptation to eavesdrop. Although they were a few paces away from him the women’s voices—sharpened by a little too much of the freely available champagne—reached him clearly.
‘Mark Russell’s secretary. You know, the Russell Charitable Foundation.’
‘She looks far too decadent for such a worthy institution—well, stuffy is probably a better word for it.’
The woman was right; Sable Jane Martin certainly didn’t look as though she spent her days dealing with the poor and needy of the world.
‘Oh, well,’ the other woman said with a gurgle of laughter, ‘I suppose even such an upright, philanthropic citizen as Mark Russell likes something good to look at in the office.’
Indeed, Kain thought sardonically. Eyes narrowing, he scanned the face of the woman they were discussing. The demure outfit couldn’t mask a subtle, exotic sensuality that made the other women on the dais fade into the background.
Kain’s mouth thinned. Brent, he thought mordantly, you’re in real trouble with this one.
His security check had come up with a very nasty scandal. Like most workplace scandals it had been covered up, but Sable Jane Martin had been in it right up to her very pretty neck.
Once a thief, always a thief…
And blackmail was the most despicable of thefts, especially in this case. A man had killed himself because of it.
Somebody had to chisel Sable Jane Martin out of his too-impressionable cousin’s life before she got her greedy hands on his money and broke his heart.
Getting Brent out of the way had been reasonably easy; Kain had pulled strings to offer him the trip of a lifetime, crewing on a barquentine that was recreating a famous nineteenth century voyage of discovery. However, if things got brutal and basic, Kain knew his relationship with his cousin would take a battering.
Still, better a few months of tension between them than Brent being cheated of the money he’d earned over the past few years through damned hard work and the application of his intelligence.
‘She looks up for anything,’ the second woman remarked astutely. ‘But with great discretion. Perfect mistress material.’ Both women laughed. ‘Is she attached?’
‘Oh, yes, she’s moved in with young Brent Gerard,’ her companion said dryly.
Kain stiffened. This he hadn’t known—it must have happened just before Brent left.
‘Brent Gerard? One of the—oh, yes, I remember now, the kid who set up that internet company and has just sold it for gazillions to some big overseas corporation?’
To Kain’s company, actually. He was beginning to think that he should have stayed well out of it—although Brent had been ready to move on to something new.
‘Yes, that’s the one—Kain Gerard’s cousin.’
‘An excellent move on her part, but why doesn’t she aim higher? Kain’s unattached, and he’s worth billions, not a measly twenty or so million.’
Good thinking, Kain thought with distaste. He might suggest it to Sable Jane Martin. But a faint tinge of colour heated his sweeping cheekbones at the woman’s next words.
‘Besides, he looks like a god.’ Her voice dropped into a sexy purr. ‘I adore men who tower over me, especially when they’ve got olive skin and dark hair and pale, pale eyes that bore right into your soul and suggest all sorts of wickedly exciting things.’
With a sly laugh the first speaker said, ‘Well, for her I suppose it’s a case of better the millionaire in the hand than the billionaire in the bush. For all his brains Brent is easy pickings; his cousin is an entirely different kettle of fish.’
Whatever she was going to say next was stopped by her companion, who said, ‘Oh, look, there’s Trina Porteous beckoning us over.’
Grimly, Kain watched Brent’s new fling walk gracefully across the platform to take her place beside the other contestants competing for the best-dressed award.
The information his security men had dug up would make Miss Butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-luscious-mouth feel very, very uncomfortable.
And he’d have no hesitation at all in using it.
Tiny hairs on the back of Sable’s neck lifted in a primitive reaction to danger. Her hand tightened around the dove-grey bag and her stomach contracted