I checked my watch. It was still early but I could use the time to further my private investigation. “I have to go now, sweet pea.” I squatted in front of Amber and enfolded her in a crushing hug.
“Mama, too tight,” she protested.
I lightened up, but the lump of emotion in my throat grew. Sending Amber away to France was for the best. I’d come to the decision using logic and clear thinking, but now the moment for goodbye arrived, I wanted to snatch up my daughter and tell her she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Are you ready to go upstairs and find your surprise?” Grace asked.
Unwillingly, I let Amber go. Amber skipped over to Grace, clasped her hand and trotted off without a backward glance. Regret ached inside me as I climbed to my feet.
“Don’t worry, Evie.” Alistair patted my shoulder in an awkward manner. “Amber will be safe with Grace.”
The stupid lump came back to clog my throat, and I swallowed loudly. “I know she will, but I’m going to miss her so much.”
“Of course you will,” Alistair said in his crisp upper-class accent. “But you can’t do a proper job if you’re worrying about your daughter’s safety. It’s better this way. You can concentrate on the job at hand, pay off the debt and get rid of the element of danger.”
Of course, he was right. A light switched on inside my head. “What do you know about the debt?”
“Charles told me last week. He feels bad about letting you down. I think he needed someone to talk to.”
“He could have talked to me.”
“Ah, but he feels guilty for putting you under pressure.”
Okay, I could understand that, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. I shouldn’t have lingered in France, hiding from my problems for so long.
“He shouldn’t worry,” I said. “I’ll talk to him about it when I get home.” That’s all it took. A conversation with someone outside the family to make me see we needed to communicate more.
“Off you go to meet your young man.”
“No horrified comments?” I asked, unable to resist.
“I’m reserving judgment.”
“Thanks, I think.” I waved and headed for the door.
Once again, I surveyed the street, the vehicles parked in front of the block of flats and men, women and children who ambled along the pavement. No one stood out as suspicious, but then, I probably didn’t look like a cat burglar either.
I drove directly to Matthew Beauchamp’s house in Holland Park. My timing was perfect. I arrived just as Mrs. Beauchamp pulled up in a black cab. I recognized her from my online research. Unfortunately, I hadn’t found any photos of their children to help answer my questions. She was laden with shopping bags. Matthew Beauchamp was notable by his absence.
I hadn’t seen him since Edinburgh. This was pretty much a spur-of-the-moment visit, and I still hadn’t come to a decision as to how I’d approach him. Whether I’d take a confrontational stance or a more clandestine approach. While I considered the matter, the cabbie exited the building and drove off.
Without a solid plan in mind, I climbed from my car, meandered across the street and leaned on the intercom.
“Yes?” The smooth, cultured tone gave away the expensive education and moneyed background, while her French accent probably captivated most males who came into her vicinity.
“Lady Eve Fawkner to see Mrs. Beauchamp.”
A click sounded when the lock of the outer security door disengaged. Well, that was easier than I’d expected. I pushed my way through, marched over to the lift and once inside, pressed the button for the flat on the top floor.
The lift opened to a well-lit area with thick woolen carpet, an expensive-looking sculpture—my brow crinkled as I tried to discern its message—and several potted palms.
I strode over to the wooden door leading to the nearest flat and thumped.
Veronica Beauchamp stood in the open doorway. “Lady Eve. How nice of you to call.”
I stretched out my hand in greeting. “I’m pleased to meet you at last.”
“You should have rung first.” Censure repeated in her frown. “I’m on my way out.”
“This won’t take a moment.”
Her face wasn’t one I’d noticed at any of the social functions I’d attended recently. Tall and lean, with jaw-length hair in a blunt cut, she moved with a dancer’s grace. She also smelled like the inside of a bottle of whisky. Her delicately arched brows rose.
“I’m involved with the children’s charity Wishes. You might have heard of us.”
Her right foot tapped an impatient tattoo on the cream carpet. “No.”
My mouth strained to drop the friendly smile I’d adopted. “We were wondering if you would care to donate—”
“No.”
Okaaay. “Thank you for seeing me. If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
I forced a brighter, saccharine-sweet smile, accepting the rebuttal with good nature. Inside, I railed. I’d hardly stepped one foot inside the flat.
“Goodbye.” I headed for the lift. My first approach might have failed, but I’d seen enough to learn that entry into the flat would be fairly simple.
So be it. I made my way back to my car, senses screaming I’d find proof as to the identity of my daughter’s father in that flat.
Deep in thought, I drove to the restaurant where Kahu suggested we meet. Pacifica was fairly new on the scene, and they specialized in Pacific Rim food. Translation—lots of seafood and vegetables with a hint of Kahu’s Kiwi roots.
I arrived late, and that flustered me. Coupled with escalated nerves, this was a great combo for a girl wanting to look cool and in control. I strode into the restaurant foyer. Soft music was playing—I didn’t know the tune but it was easy on the ear and supposedly soothing. I fixed a smile on my lips.
“I’m meeting Kahu Williams,” I said to the young girl behind the desk.
“You’re with Kahu?” Another Kiwi. The accent was very distinctive. I must have looked put out because she said, “He’s over in the far corner. I’ll show you over.”
I followed her through the restaurant, winding between diners and tables and skirting the pocket-sized dance floor. Kahu rose when he saw me.
“Hi,” he said and kissed me. The soft glow in his eyes when I pulled away helped set me at ease. “Would you like a drink?” he asked after he seated me.
“Mineral water, please.”
“Sparkling?” At my nod, he added to the hovering hostess, “And a beer. Steinlager, thanks.”
The hostess frowned over her shoulder as she walked away.
“Do you know her?”
“Carly?” Kahu reached across the table to grasp my hand. His touch started a lively tingle on my palm. The sensation spread down my arm and sent blood surging to my cheeks. “Carly’s family lives next to mine. She was the first person I looked up when I arrived in London. She’s like a sister.”
“Oh.” Carly’s interest was clearly romantic, but Kahu had either missed the fact or intended to ignore it.
A different waiter arrived with our drinks and poured them into glasses with a flourish.
“How’s work going?” I asked, dodging anything personal for refuge in casual chitchat. “Have you found out who shot Catherine?”
“We rounded up a few witnesses but it was fairly dark. No one saw where the shot came from.”
A shudder snaked down my body. “So you’re not even close to charging anyone?”
“No.”
“That isn’t comforting.” But it wouldn’t stop me from carrying out my investigation.
“Let’s change the subject.” Kahu ran a calloused finger across my palm. I suppressed my reaction with difficulty. “I don’t know much about you. I’d like to know more.”
I went all gooey inside before reality intruded. I couldn’t tell him about my past or my present, come to that. “Why don’t you go first?”
“Are you ready to order?” Carly bounded up to the
table.
Kahu picked up the red leather menus we’d ignored so far and handed me one. “The lamb is good, so is the fish.” A lopsided grin appeared. “Everything is good.”
I glanced down the menu. “I’ll go with the lamb medallion and tamarillo sauce.”
“The seafood taster for me. The one with the green-lipped mussels.”
“Wine?”
“No wine for me,” I said.
“Another glass of sparkling water, and a glass of the Marlborough Chardonnay.”
Carly nodded and strode off in the direction of the kitchen.
“And what about your stepbrother? Ihaka. How is your investigation going?”
Kahu’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “Slow. I know he worked for Richard Beauchamp, but trying to track Ihaka’s movements and contact his friends…” He shook his head. “The address Ihaka gave us was a squat. The house was full of tourists on working holidays, transitory types. By the time I got there, anyone who knew him had moved on.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure something will turn up.”
“I hope so. I hate disappointing my parents.”
I thought of Father and silently agreed. “Tell me about Wellington. You grew up there, right?”
“It’s the capital of New Zealand. It’s cold. It’s windy.”
Our meals arrived, and I savored every morsel. We talked about New Zealand, about the latest movies and our favorite songs. We laughed together. Then it was time to leave.
My nerves had settled, and I’d enjoying chatting so much I’d forgotten about the end of the night.
The conclusion.
My apprehension climbed to pre-dinner levels and beyond.
“Did you drive here or catch a cab?” Kahu asked. “I caught a cab.”
“I drove. Would you like a ride back to your flat?”
He studied me in silence. “You don’t have to give me a ride home. There’s no pressure. No matter what you decide, I’m not walking away again.”
The silence lengthened while we stared at each other. I weighed his words, studied his face. He seemed sincere. All I needed to do was give my trust. A concept that seemed simple, but the execution might prove tricky. Out of sight beneath the table, my fingers curled to dig into my thighs. The prick of fingernails forced me to concentrate.
I stood. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Sure,” Kahu said easily.
I carried on a silent debate all the way to Kahu’s flat, interspersed with the odd snippet of casual conversation.
“It’s the block of flats opposite the park.”
The park in question was one of the small fenced greens—a nature area for common use by the surrounding homeowners and tenants. Kahu caught me glancing at it when I switched off the ignition.
“Would you like to go for a walk before I make coffee?”
Good idea. I turned to offer my agreement to the idea. My words jammed against Kahu’s lips as he stole a kiss, and, just like that, my panic seeped away.
Kahu’s hands tunneled into my hair, tugging strands from my chignon until locks fell to my shoulders. I didn’t care. I was too busy savoring the rich, heady taste of his mouth. His lips wandered to the tender skin of my neck. He used his teeth.
I jerked but not in pain. Kahu soothed the love bite with his tongue and repeated the scrape of teeth. The second time wasn’t such a shock and it shoved a jolt of pleasure across my nerve endings. A moan escaped, and heat surged throughout my body, converging in a single spot between my thighs. Greedy, I sought more, burrowing closer to Kahu’s hard, muscled chest.
Kahu lifted me, dragging me closer. My head connected with the car roof. The gearshift dug painfully into my thigh. “Oomph,” I muttered.
His hand swept down to massage my thigh. “Perhaps we should take this inside.”
I crawled back to the driver’s seat, taking a deep breath. Instead of clearing my head, I dragged in Kahu’s scent. It was just as heady as his taste.
“Eve?” A question hovered between us.
I nodded, unable to express my feelings or my agreement to take our relationship to the next step. I dipped my head in another nod.
He opened the passenger door and unfolded his rangy body from my car. I followed suit, glad of the fresh air to cool my heated skin.
Kahu curled his arm around my waist and led me up to his door. He fumbled in his right trouser pocket for keys, the only sign of nerves I noted, although he managed to slide the key into the lock easily enough. He’d make a great cat burglar with his athletic build. The way he moved told me he’d be a natural.
Uh-oh. Here I was weaving happy ever after and the man didn’t have an inkling of the truth. Cat burglar—yeah, right. The man would clap me in cuffs so quick I wouldn’t see him move, then he’d likely shove me in jail, and my worst fears would come to bite me on the bum. I’d miss the rest of Amber’s childhood and the firsts a good mother should witness.
The door creaked open. The cat burglar in me diagnosed the problem. It needed a few drops of oil. Kahu flicked a switch, the single bulb making me squint. The place was old yet tidy.
“I don’t spend enough time here to get the place messy,” Kahu said.
It was galling he could read my mind with such ease.
“Come in. I don’t bite. Not straightaway, anyway.”
The man oozed sexual magnetism and self-confidence. Every time his hawklike gaze met mine, my heart somersaulted in response. Any minute now I’d start hyperventilating.
“That’s good to know,” I said in an attempt to concentrate on something other than my insecurities. I set down my handbag.
“I’ll put on coffee.” Kahu moved purposely into the small kitchenette.
Although the brown linoleum and the lime-green-painted cupboards looked dated, the area was scrupulously clean. Hmm. Definite potential for conflict here. I wandered over to the lounge area. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall. Two armchairs sat opposite for perfect viewing pleasure. The butt imprints of the last occupants were still noticeable. A few magazines perched on top of a glass-topped table along with a stack of PlayStation games and two remotes.
“Why are you nervous all of a sudden?”
The soft drawl right behind me made me jump in fright.
“Don’t do that,” I whispered, holding the palm of my right hand to my heart. “I swear I almost parted company with my shoes.”
“That’s not an answer. If you’ve changed your mind, tell me. I don’t do force.”
I couldn’t prevent a flinch at the implication. Rape. A shudder swept me. “I never thought you did. Is the coffee ready?”
“Don’t change the subject.” There was none of Kahu’s easy charm visible on his face now. Instead, determination dominated. He wanted to force the truth from me.
“I haven’t changed my mind.” My gaze met his and held. Messages passed between us, but I’m not sure they had much in common. I tried to infuse my look with certainty, while in truth I was feeling more cautious. Definitely uneasy about the entire situation.
“Come here,” he ordered.
A test.
I sauntered up to him with my best come-hither smile fixed to my lips.
“Sometimes I have trouble reading you.”
“I’m here,” I said, forcing air to my lungs and trying not to sound too breathless, too unsure.
I lifted arms that suddenly felt heavy, like bags of wet sand, and ran them across Kahu’s shoulders. His cotton shirt was light enough for my hands to feel the heat rising from his skin. My hands went to the tiny white buttons fastening his shirt. I slid the first one free, moving at snail’s speed toward the next while keeping my eyes firmly on Kahu’s face. His dark eyes gleamed with sensual heat.
Following instinct, I ran my fingers across his jaw. His stubble was abrasive on my fingertips while his mouth contrasted with velvet softness. Our gazes connected. Aware of my lack of experience, I froze, not sure of what to do next.
Kahu saved the moment.
For me? I met his bold appraisal, powerless to resist.
Without waiting for my answer, he dealt with the combs and pins holding my hair away from my face. When my hair finally toppled down, he murmured with appreciation.
“Beautiful,” he said in a reverent tone. “I knew it would be. It’ll look even better spread across my pillows.”
The implication sent waves of excitement lurching through me. My body moistened, preparing for him, and I gave a silent cheer. Everything would be all right. Kahu and I would be good together.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kahu swept me off my feet without warning, cuddling me against his larger frame without even breathing hard. He stalked through the lounge, heading unerringly for another room. The bedroom.
My pulsed quickened. Gee, guess this meant coffee was off. My mouth dried, suddenly in fierce need of a cooling liquid.
The room was dark, but Kahu negotiated chairs, doorways and a squat mystery item in the hallway. At the far end of the passage, he stepped inside a room but didn’t pause to switch on a light. He kept walking, suddenly leaning down to let me fall onto a large bed. I stared through the gloom trying to make out his features.
I couldn’t see his face. Sudden fear twisted my insides, threatening to flare into outright panic. It’s Kahu. A friend. You want him.
The mental reassurance didn’t help.
Instead my mind conjured terrifying monsters, each with unscrupulous acts on their minds.
A bedside lamp flickered on, and Kahu’s face came into view. My breath eased out with a relieved hiss.
I can do this. I want to do this.
Kahu shrugged out of his shirt and let it drop. His hands moved to his leather belt. He hesitated then unbuckled it, tugging it from his trousers. It clunked to the floor.
Nice. Very nice. I plucked up the courage for a grin. “Is that as far as you’re going?”
He looked puzzled—and no wonder. I was switching off and on with the frequency of a light bulb.
Cat Burglar in Training Page 24
