Flash Point Page 6

  Barney's expression was queasy, and Carly took a mouthful of congealing bread and bacon, then hastily wrapped the rest in a tissue and put it in her pocket, and asked if he'd heard the weather forecast because flying in windy weather made her nervous.

  They made good speed, the radio playing music, with time checks and news bulletins; and Barney moaning about the news. Carly felt cocooned in pleasurable anticipation. She was the one off on holiday, he was being left behind, and she could understand him being niggly, although he took half a dozen holidays to her one and she never begrudged him his higher standard of living.

  She sat back, drowsy in the warm car, and when he asked 'Have you thought any more about moving in with me?' she yawned.

  'It wouldn't work.'

  'I think it would.' He thought she would look like this at breakfast, in the mornings, sleepy-eyed and flushed, her hair tumbled, and that it would be pleasant to halve the right to reach out for her because she was committed to him. But perhaps this was not the time to urge her to make a decision. When she came back from what sounded like a luxurious holiday the little terraced house might be less appealing than his apartment.

  At the airport they checked in her luggage, then sat down in the main lounge and waited for the flight to be called. Carly was anxious to be away. She hadn't had a real holiday for a long time, and although she was grateful to Barney for the lift she wished now that he would leave her. She would have enjoyed buying herself a book, although she had said she didn't want anything to read when he'd suggested getting her a magazine. She might have gone into the coffee lounge. She would have liked to wander about and savour the excitement of an airport.

  But Barney hung on, and said, 'No hurry,' when she said, 'Thank you very much for bringing me, I'm fine now if you should be anywhere else.' So. they sat together, and he told her how much he was going to miss her and she said, 'I'll be back,' and when her flight was called jumped eagerly to her feet.

  He got up too, and said, 'Think about it while you're away. Moving in with me.' His hands were on her shoulders and he drew her closer and kissed her soundly, and over his shoulder Carly saw the tall figure of Liam Sherrard unfold from the lounge seat that had been backing on theirs, and she froze as he walked round and stood, smiling at them.

  'They've called our flight,' he said, and Barney loosed her, whirled round and stared. Liam Sherrard looked successful in the understated way that took it all for granted. He had the assurance and charisma that Barney wanted and envied, and Carly wished she could say, 'You're much nicer,' but Barney was sneering, 'So this is the offer you couldn't refuse?'

  He thought she had planned to go with Liam, which was stupid, because if she had she wouldn't have let Barney bring her to the airport, telling him a tale about holidaying with an old lady.

  'When you've finished saying goodbye to your friend,' said Liam affably, and she tried to explain,

  'This is Madame Corbe's nephew ‑'

  'The one you forgot to mention?' Barney glared at Liam with a brooding resentment, then turned on his heel and went down the stairs so fast that he was at the bottom before Carly could think of a way to call him back.

  Actually there was no way, and she had this strange feeling that everything was turning muzzy around her, that only Liam Sherrard stood clear and hard, his fingers on her elbow biting deep. The fact that he had materialised in flesh and blood was almost a relief. She had been running from shadows all week, but ever since that first night she had expected him to reappear.

  Barney had no claim on her, but she hadn't wanted this to happen, and she might have rim after him if there had been time, and Liam hadn't been marching her towards the checkpoint.

  They went through, proffering passports, then tickets, and she snapped, 'You must have gone to a lot of trouble getting this flight.'

  'Not a lot.'

  'What for?'

  'I've a few days to play around with and I told you I was going to keep an eye on you. This will give us time to get to know each other.' His eyes gleamed wickedly, and there were those who might say he was loaded with charm; but Carly was not among them. And all the time she had this feeling that the moving crowds were almost dreamlike. It was getting up early and having no breakfast. It was the jolting shock of finding him there.

  Liam stood aside to let her climb the steps into the plane and she didn't want to sit beside him, but there she was, in the window seat, and he was next to her, blocking any escape into the aisle' She turned her head stiffly and met his gaze, trying to see him impersonally, and realised how extremely good-looking he was—fine-boned, with a beautiful cruel mouth, a slightly hooked nose. Roland, like Barney, like most of her men friends, was a man of today. Their appearance was right for the times, but Liam Sherrard would have been a knockout in any century. She could imagine him in Roman times, wearing a toga, or in a wig and velvet jacket conversing with Voltaire.

  He was watching her, unblinkingly, and after that she looked past him at the other passengers, as intently as though she expected to recognise a face. It kept her eyes off Liam and as the plane rose she watched the airport slipping away beneath them.

  Barney was down there. She hoped he wouldn't drive stupidly because he was still annoyed. He thought she was off on holiday with Liam, and that was so absurd that her lips twitched and Liam asked, 'Who is he?'

  No business of yours, she thought, but she said, 'A friend who gave me a lift.' He had been listening to their conversation, so he knew, so she added, 'And who wants me to move in with him.'

  'But you won't.' He wasn't asking a question. He said it as though that was settled, and Carly asked,

  'How do you know?'

  Liam shrugged wide shoulders under the beautifully cut jacket, 'Because a better offer has come up, and she breathed deeply, fighting for self-control, until she reckoned that she could manage to sound calm.

  'Look,' she said, 'I like flying, and I had hoped to enjoy this flight. But the only way I can do it is by pretending you're not here so would you just shut up? Please.'

  Then she looked out of the window again, keeping her face resolutely turned away, but she was still agonisingly conscious of him. She was sure that Liam was sitting comfortably in his seat, relaxed, eyes closed probably. But after a while the crick in her neck had spread into an ache running up into her skull. If she stayed this tense she was going to be paralysed by Rouen. They'd have to carry her out. She rubbed the nape of her neck, under the heavy fall of her hair, then stretched a little in her seat and said, 'I feel like a prisoner with a jailer.' Then she bit her lip hard because that would make him remember Gerald.

  He was so close to her that she could feel him. He wasn't touching her, but his nearness was a pressure: his arm on the armrest, the lean muscles in his thighs, the long legs. Carly shifted uncomfortably and asked, 'How long before we get there?'

  'Three quarters of an hour to Rouen,' he said. 'Then about another two hundred and fifty miles to Guirec Vert.'

  'But Roland's meeting me at Rouen?' She had taken that for granted, But now that Liam had turned up she was beginning to wonder. He shook his head slowly and she shook hers faster, trying to deny what he was telling her. 'He isn't? There'll be just you?'

  'How many escorts do you need?' He sounded amused, but if he was going to be her sole companion all the way to Brittany she didn't think she could stand it. Not feeling like this, aching with tension. She said desperately,'

  'Maybe we could pretend we just met. Forget our first meeting—and our last. Be civil.'

  'Why not?' If she hadn't known that he disliked and distrusted her she might have found him attractive when he smiled. He said, as though he was making conversation with a stranger, 'Going on holiday, are you?'

  'Yes. Yes, I am. To a place called Guirec Vert. Would you have heard of it?'

  'You don't say?' He feigned astonishment. 'Small world. I was practically brought up there.'

  'Really? My, my! Do your family live there?'

  Talking ov
er dinner the day after the birthday party Roland had told her that Madame Corbe was the only relative he and Liam had. 'They do,' said Liam. 'And where do your parents live?'

  Carly said, 'I don't know, I never did,' and in the silence that followed she noticed what long lashes he had, the colour of his eyes—grey with dark flecks— and felt her heart leap and began to babble, 'Actually it isn't true that I love flying. Really it scares me rigid. I haven't done much, but I did go on this package tour the year before last and the wheels stuck up when we should have been coming down and we were circling Palma airport for the best part of an hour.'

  'I'm glad you landed safely,' he said.

  'Are you really?'

  'Very glad, and now you need some Dutch courage, like a large brandy.' He signalled the air hostess, who came dashing up, showing pretty teeth in a sexy way that was all for, Liam's benefit. But he kept looking at Carly. 'Drink up,' he ordered, and she took a sip and asked, ‑'

  'Do you fly a lot?'

  'A fair amount.'

  'If we start diving can I grab you?' She was joking, but when Liam said,

  'Any time at all,' she could feel his warmth and his touch.

  'Thanks,' she said, 'that makes me feel safer.'

  She was feeling safer, and it had nothing to do with the brandy. It was because the man sitting beside her had stopped being her jailer. She wished he didn't have that memory of her in the courtroom, but he had said this journey would give them a chance to get to know each other, and it was suddenly important that he should know and understand.

  She said, 'I probably wouldn't be on this plane if you hadn't gone round to Ruth's. I really shouldn't be taking a holiday right now, but you made me so mad that I had to come.'

  'So I defeated my object?' His grin was engaging.

  'Yes.' She would have been pleased to be asked and she would have tried to visit Madame Corbe and Roland some time, but all this urgency was only to show Liam that he couldn't bully her. 'Roland said you're not usually prejudiced,' and she looked straight at him. 'Did you just make an exception in my case?'

  'I probably did,' he said quietly, and the admission encouraged her to go on.

  'Truly I didn't know about Gerald. He said he was rich and I believed him. It was lovely being spoiled, I never had been, and he bought me things and I let him. But I wouldn't have done, God knows, if I'd any idea. I'm not a taker. I wouldn't take a thing from Madame Corbe. I like her very much and I wish I was her granddaughter, but, like you said, under the skin there wouldn't be much Antoinette and I had in common.'

  Liam gave a small nod, agreeing, but there was no harshness in his face now, and when she said, 'So you don't have to worry, I won't be plotting to get my hands on the family silver,' they both smiled, and it was surely a truce.

  As they walked from the Customs at Rouen she said, quite happily, 'This wasn't how I thought it was going to be.'

  She had expected to have Roland hurrying to meet her, not Liam striding beside her. 'He's trusting you with me,' said Liam, and she laughed.

  'You can be trusted?'

  'Most of the time.'

  Carly added mischievously, 'Well, Victoria seems to have faith in you. I wonder she didn't come along.' When she thought about it she had wondered very much, because most of the time at that party Miss Victoria Hayden had been hanging on to Liam like a limpet.

  'She wasn't asked,' he said cheerfully. 'Not by Aunt Aimee, and it is Aunt Aimee's house.'

  She wasn't sorry about that. She supposed she was sorry that Roland wasn't here to meet them, but it was a long way to come and unnecessary when Liam was travelling the same road. Now they were letting bygones be bygones she didn't mind travelling with Liam. She was not surprised to see the car waiting, he would have everything organised in style, and all she had to do was get in and sit back. Which she did, with shining eyes because it was a beautiful day and she felt wonderful, ready for anything, as though she was off on some mind-blowing, breathtaking adventure.

  The sunshine roof was open, a warm breeze blew through her hair, and she said blissfully, 'It's a wonderful life, isn't it? Right now isn't it a wonderful life?'

  'Right now it surely is.' Liam's hair was ruffled and he seemed another man from the one who had looked at her with granite-hard eyes and told her he would knock her down if she should be rash enough to hit out at him. Years younger, for one thing. 'You're dead set on making for the Chateau?' he asked. Carly stiffened for a second, then realised they weren't taking that corner on the wrong side, this was the right side. 'You wouldn't rather have Paris?' he said.

  He was joking, of course, and she grinned, 'Are you kidnapping me?'

  'It's a nice day for kidnapping.'

  'Better not,' she said, but she thought, it would be fun if we could go anywhere, stop any place.

  'Where would you like to eat?' he asked her. 'There's a Guide Michelin in there,' he nodded towards the glove compartment in front of her. 'And a map. Can you read a map?'

  'Of course,' she said airily. 'I'm very partial to a map. But what I'd really like to do is buy some food and eat out of doors—have a picnic. Would you mind doing that?'

  It was market day in the little town where they stopped. Stalls filled the square, but they managed to park in a side street and went shopping for their lunch. From the charcuterie they bought cheese and quiches and pate and butter, and a bottle of red wine, and from the patisserie a long crusty loaf and raspberry-filled fruit tarts.

  Liam spoke colloquial French so fast that Carly, hanging back, could only follow a word here and there. No one took him for a tourist; she supposed he wasn't if he had been practically reared here. He had left his coat in the car and in shirtsleeves he looked at home. They bought cheap glass tumblers, paper plates and plastic knives, dropping them into a carrier bag, and wandered through the market, adding a melon.

  The buildings round the square were tall, half-timbered, with paintwork peeling, but picturesque and mysterious with closed shutters and narrow little alleyways.

  When they left the bustle of the market square and wandered down the cobbled side streets Liam took her hand, his fingers twining with hers, because it was. a natural thing to do when the sun was shining and they were strolling together. She liked the feel of this togetherness. There seemed to be something familiar and sweet about it. When he squeezed her hand tighter for a moment, and smiled at her, her breath caught as though he had kissed her lips, and she felt a quickening of real desire. It wasn't just that Liam had sex appeal, more as though they had been together for a long time and knew each other so well that a smile and a Hand pressure conveyed a silent message.

  If I believed in reincarnation, she thought, that could explain why I'm feeling weak at the knees now, as if my body knows your lovemaking. But a likelier explanation was mutual physical attraction, and the fact that, right now, he and she were on the same wavelength of make-believe.

  A poster in one of the windows said, 'A Vendre', and Liam followed her glance and said, 'Shall we look at it?'

  Carly pretended to consider, then shook her head. 'Too pricey,' she said, as though she had walked this way before, and knew house values here, and that had been a serious suggestion. And she thought what a narrow division there was between fact and fantasy, because she could imagine so easily that they were going home together to a little room above a street like this, carrying their food for tonight.

  There was a cafe on the corner, with tables filling the pavement. 'Coffee?' he suggested.

  'Uh-huh,' and they sat down, ordering big cups of strong coffee. She noticed how almost all the women gave Liam a second glance, how the girl who served them had fluffed up her hair between taking their order and bringing it, and grinned, and Liam asked, 'What are you smiling at?'

  'The waitress fancies you,' she said, and he grinned back.

  'That's all right, then. I thought you were ogling that character over there who's staring pop-eyed at you.'

  Carly looked across and caught the eye of
a sandy-haired young man at an adjoining table. He was staring at her. Men often did, and she rarely took, any notice. He looked sheepish as she smiled, then started to smile too until Liam veered round.

  Carly swallowed laughter at Liam's ferocious scowl. It made him look as though his next move would be to swagger over and push in the inoffensive face of her admirer, who looked hastily away, then drained his glass and hurried off.

  'Now who asked you to do that?' she asked, her lips twitching. 'What harm was the poor man doing? Do you see me telling the waitress to shove off?'

  'You can't very well, can you?' Liam pointed out. 'She works here—probably owns it. You look good enough to eat, you know, I don't blame him.' She had left her jacket behind in the car too. Her shirt was scoop-necked and sleeveless and her skin was pale honey in the sunshine. 'Like an apricot,' added Liam.

  'I'm starving,' said Carly, and she was, any moment her stomach was going to start rumbling.

  'Shall we eat here?'

  They were serving bowls of soup, quiches and patties, but she said, 'I was promised a picnic, you're not suggesting wasting all that stuff in there, I hope?'

  About half an hour out of town they found the ideal spot, soft turf backed by trees, drew the car off the road and emptied their carrier bag. It all tasted wonderful. They drank from the thick tumblers, tearing the fresh crusty bread apart with their fingers and spreading it thick with butter and pate. They sat on the turf, Liam leaning against a tree trunk, Carly, towards the end. of the meal, leaning on him.

  It was quite incredible that he was the same man she had faced in Ruth's little front room, whose guts she had hated. She was eating melon and so was he, his face masked by the half-moon rind, and she sat back and goggled in astonishment. 'You are Liam, aren't you? There isn't another brother? Twins? You are Roland's one and only, the lawyer?'

  'That's me.'

  'Did you always want to be a lawyer?' It was in the family, Roland had said the ones with the brains went into law, but Liam would probably have been a success at anything he attempted, and Carly wondered if he had ever had other dreams.