His eyes moved gently over her face, noting the emotion in the deep blue eyes, and he placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry I’ve made a mess of things,’ he whispered softly. ‘That I’ve upset you so much.’
‘It’s a relief to know everything, to be honest.’ She smiled tremulously at him.
He smiled back. ‘It’s your birthday on Saturday, isn’t it?’ he asked suddenly.
She nodded, surprised that he knew. She had almost forgotten about it herself, there had been so much on her mind recently.
‘Let me take you out somewhere to celebrate. Lunch or dinner; you choose.’
Sabrina hesitated for a moment and bit down sharply on her lip; she felt totally out of her depth with all of this. ‘I don’t know, Garth...’
‘You don’t want me in your life, is that it?’ His voice sounded unbearably strained.
‘I... no.’ She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not that at all.’ If the truth were known, Sabrina desperately wanted Garth in her life. She wanted to know her father. She stumbled, then looked up at him with wide glimmering eyes. ‘But let’s face it, Garth, the situation is a mess. Your family don’t know about your affair with my mother or about me. You are a man who is very much in the public eye. Can you really afford to have me in your life?’
He was silent for a moment. ‘I admit that I’m scared about telling Nadine and, yes, my career is important and it is in a difficult period of transition at the moment.’
She nodded. ‘I understand more than you think, Garth. Even a whisper of scandal could be very damaging to you at the moment.’
He knew that what she was saying was right—she could see it in the over-bright gleam of his eyes. ‘You could still come to Brussels with me as my secretary. Then when things have settled down...’
She shook her head.
‘Think about it, Brina.’ He reached across and took hold of her hand. ‘Please.’
Her eyes shone with tears. ‘Oh, Garth, I just don’t know anything any more.’
‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘Let’s walk some more.’ He tucked his arm around her shoulder as she shivered suddenly.
Both of them were so caught up in their conversation that they didn’t see the man who was leaning against a tree at the bottom of the garden, a zoom-lens camera trained directly on them.
CHAPTER THREE
SABRINA had never been as nervous about a date as she was about lunch with Marc Kingsley. She paid special attention to her hair and make-up that day and took ages deciding what to wear.
She decided finally on a cream linen suit that had a short skirt and a long-line jacket. She teamed it with a peach silk blouse. The effect was both stylish and yet sensual. As she surveyed her appearance in the mirror she was comforted by the fact that she looked serene and calm. She would hate Marc to know just what chaos he had wrought to her system by that one kiss.
The effects of that kiss still remained with her now. She could feel heat rising inside her when she remembered how she had pressed close against him, how soft and skilled his mouth had felt against hers. She swallowed hard as she tried to dismiss the memory.
When the front doorbell rang she felt her stomach tying itself into knots. With a last glance in the mirror she went to let him in.
‘Good morning.’ Marc’s manner was brisk, but the eyes that swept over her appearance were very complimentary.
‘Would you like a coffee or anything before we leave?’ Sabrina invited softly.
He shook his head. ‘No time.’
‘Oh?’
He ignored the question in her eyes and smiled. ‘Are you ready?’
She nodded and turned to pick up her handbag.
‘And don’t forget your passport,’ he said casually.
‘My passport...’ She looked around at him in complete surprise. ‘Why do I need that?’
‘If you run along and get it, I’ll tell you on the way,’ he said with infuriating calm.
Sabrina’s hand wasn’t quite steady as she opened the drawer of her bureau and took out her passport. Where on earth was he taking her? she wondered. Her heart thudded with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Even a lunch date with Marc Kingsley felt like an adventure.
He looked exceptionally stylish this morning. He was wearing a dark suit that seemed to emphasise his dark good looks, his hair gleaming almost blue-black in the spring sunshine.
She was surprised to find that he wasn’t in his red Porsche this morning. Instead a long black limousine waited at the kerb, and a uniformed chauffeur held the door for them as they climbed into the luxurious seats.
‘This is very decadent.’ Sabrina smiled at Marc a little shyly.
‘Practical,’ he told her crisply. ‘I find it easier to have a chauffeur when I make business trips. I can carry on with my work as we travel and I don’t waste any time.’
‘I see.’ Her eyebrows rose slightly. ‘Am I to take it we are on a business trip?’
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘No, I just don’t want to waste time.’ Then he grinned at her. It was a deliciously wicked grin that did incredible things to her heart-rate.
‘Champagne?’ He leaned forward and pulled down a cabinet in front of them. Packed very neatly inside there were rows of bottles and crystal glasses, including a silver bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne.
‘It’s a little early for me,’ Sabrina murmured. She wasn’t used to drinking in the middle of the day at the best of times and, accompanied by such a suave, handsome man, she was frightened of lowering any of her barriers... especially to Marc Kingsley.
‘Nonsense.’ The champagne cork flew off with an almighty pop and the champagne flowed with frothy enthusiasm into two crystal glasses. ‘It’s never too early to start celebrating.’ He handed her the glass and she accepted it with only a moment’s pause.
‘What are we celebrating?’ she asked, wrinkling her nose as bubbles tickled it.
For a moment he considered her question. ‘Why, spring of course and the rising sap.’
She caught his eye and had to laugh. ‘You are incorrigible, Marc Kingsley,’ she said with a shake of her head.
‘I hope so.’ He reached across to top up her glass as she took a drink from its golden contents.
‘I hope you’re not trying to get me drunk,’ she said in a mock-teasing voice, ‘because it won’t work.’
One dark eyebrow rose at that. ‘My dear girl, I have never had to stoop so low.’ This time there was no laughter in his tone.
Sabrina could well believe it, and immediately she felt a little embarrassed at making such a comment.
‘Anyway, what do you mean, it won’t work?’ he went on to ask, the laughter back in his eyes.
Sabrina smiled and let the question pass without comment. ‘So where are we going for lunch?’
‘A lovely little restaurant I know on the Left Bank.’
For a moment Sabrina was puzzled. ‘The left bank of what?’
‘The Seine,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘The Seine... in Paris?’ Her voice rose a little with the thrill of it.
‘No,