‘You are not,’ said Leo between her teeth, ‘taking me out to dinner.’
‘I’m glad you feel like that,’ Amer said mysteriously.
He shepherded her solicitously into the back seat. To her own fury, Leo found herself complying. He shut the door on her and slipped round to the off side. In the car his smile was very seductive. She recognised that it was designed to be.
‘I so much prefer to eat at home.’
Unseduced, Leo narrowed her eyes at all that deceptive openness.
‘I’m not cooking for you, either,’ she announced.
He chuckled. ‘A pleasure deferred.’
‘No, it’s not. I’m never going to—’ Leo broke off, as the car did not turn west as she expected. Instead it slid into Hyde Park and turned right. ‘Where are we going?’
Amer widened his eyes at her. ‘Why home, of course. Just as you wanted.’
‘I live that way,’ said Leo, pointing firmly in the direction from which they had come.
He was bland. ‘How interesting.’
Leo ground her teeth. ‘All right. Whose home?’
‘Mine,’ he said coolly.
Leo could be cool, too. ‘Interesting,’ she drawled back at him. ‘Would that be the home from home palace or the bachelor pad where anything goes?’
Amer looked amused. ‘Which would you prefer?’
Leo resisted the temptation to hit him. Only because she thought it might make her burst into tears. She felt she’d had more fights tonight than she’d had in the whole of her life up to now. She’d not acquitted herself badly. But it had taken more out of her than she could afford if she was going to lock horns with Amer el-Barbary.
She leaned back in her seat with an angry little sigh. A policy of passive resistance, that was the answer. If he got no reaction out of her, Leo reasoned, he would soon get bored and let her go home.
So she managed not to react to the imposing Palladian house. It was no more than she expected after all. She nodded at the butler, managing to stay as impassive as the perfect servant himself. She even kept her cool in the marble entrance hall, though the original Canaletto made her blink a bit. But when Amer led her through the house and out the other side, her strategy tumbled into ruins.
She stopped stock-still, gasping. She was suddenly in the garden of Eden. It was surrounded by an old wall, its stones almost hidden by lush falls of lilac wisteria. Old trees formed a copse at the end of the garden. While a perfect lawn, the grass golden in the late-evening sun, curved away under huge azalea bushes. They were so brilliant with bloom that she could hardly believe it—apricot and lemon and buttercup and champagne; and then a blaze of fiery pink that made her eyes hurt. And the scent! Her senses swam.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Leo whispered.
Amer liked her awe. He smiled.
‘Better than the bachelor pad?’
Leo was recalled to herself. She looked at him with dislike.
‘It may be beautiful. That doesn’t mean that I want to be here.’
‘You’d rather we went to the bachelor pad,’ he interpreted.
He raised a hand. The silent butler materialised.
‘Bring the car round.’
The butler inclined his head.
‘No,’ said Leo hastily. ‘No, I don’t want to go anywhere else.’ In case Amer misunderstood—or pretended to misunderstand—she added with emphasis, ‘Until I go home that is.’
Amer bit back a smile.
‘Then we will have to drink out here. Unless you are cold?’ he added courteously.
Leo was uncomfortably conscious of a heat that had nothing to do with the summer evening.
‘No,’ she said with constraint.
‘Then bring drinks please,’ said Amer, every inch the concerned host. ‘Dinner in an hour.’
The butler bowed and disappeared.
Leo attempted heavy irony. ‘So I’m staying for dinner, am I?’
‘I said I would feed you,’ Amer reminded her.
‘I don’t remember accepting.’
He laughed. ‘Then do so now.’
And as she looked mulish, he strolled over to her and put an arm round her shoulders, turning her to face the golden garden.
‘Look at that,’ he said lazily. ‘You can’t honestly say you want to leave all this and go back into the dirt of the city.’
For the second time since she had arrived, Leo’s senses swam. He was too close. His arm was too heavy. If she turned her head just a fraction, she would rest her cheek against the grey-suited chest. She could smell the warm skin and the faint expensive fragrance of orange flowers and orris.
She remembered that smell. She had thought she would remember it for the rest of her life. Now, she thought with sudden insight, she was going to have to be seriously careful to make sure that was all she remembered from this encounter. The whole evening was turning into an elephant trap for a woman with big feet and minimal experience of seduction.
She gave herself a mental shake and said firmly, ‘I can say I don’t want to be kidnapped, however.’
For a moment the hand on her upper arm tightened almost unbearably. Not so lazy, now.
‘Don’t fight me, Leonora.’
She looked up at him indignantly, forgetting for a moment that he was too close.
‘Are you threatening me?’
Amer looked down at her. Yes, much too close. The grey eyes were unreadable. But Leo’s breath still caught in her throat. Then his lashes dropped and he was lazy again. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, laughing.
‘Say thank-you prettily and stop arguing. Let us savour the twilight.’
Leo thought: Something’s wrong with me. I want to do what he says. I must be out of my mind.
The butler came back, carrying an enormous embossed tray. He put it on a filigree ironwork table. Still stunned by her unwanted revelation, Leo watched him lift an ornate jug that might have been brass or might—if that were not ridiculous—have been gold. He poured a cloudy liquid into crystal goblets and put them on another tray before presenting them to Amer.
Amer took both and held one out to her. Leo looked at it, not moving. He was amused.
‘Lemon, lime, honey and a hint of cinnamon,’ he said as if she had voiced her suspicions. ‘Maybe a dash of rosewater, though that’s a professional secret. Try. If you hate it you can always have more champagne. Though personally, I suspect you’re over your limit.’
Leo was so incensed that she grabbed the goblet and swallowed the brew as if it were medicine. She barely tasted it as it went down. She did not care.
‘I hate it,’ she said deliberately.
Just for a moment the impassive butler was less than impassive. An expression of distinct shock passed over his face, Leo saw. Presumably the Sheikh’s usual guests did what he told them and said thank-you for it. Well, this guest was going to be different she thought vengefully.
Amer, of course, was unmoved. ‘Then champagne it is.’ Without turning his head, he said, ‘See to it, Harrods.’
The man left silently.
‘Harrods?’ said Leo, temporarily diverted. ‘Is that really his name?’
‘In a way. I dare say you won’t approve,’ Amer said with wry amusement, ‘but the name goes with the job.’
She stared.
‘My mother,’ he explained. ‘When we first bought this house she said the only person she knew in London was the man who delivered her orders from Harrods. Eventually she persuaded him to come and work here. But she had always called him Harrods. So—’ He shrugged.
Leo was appalled. ‘You made the poor man give up his name?’
‘I knew you would disapprove,’ Amer sighed.
‘I think it’s barbaric. It’s as if you have bought up his whole identity.’ She shivered at the thought of such arrogance. ‘You really do think you can do anything you want, don’t you?’
Amer frowned. ‘He could always have left. In fact, he has stayed with us for thirty years.’<
br />
But Leo was still chilled by this further evidence of tyranny.
‘You set your own rules and everyone else has to obey, don’t they?’ she said hotly. ‘You just think you’re above the rest of us.’
Amer was thunderstruck. ‘Above—What are you talking about?’
Leo snorted. ‘Look at this evening. As I remember, I said I didn’t want to have dinner with you several times. Did you take any notice?’
‘It’s good for you to have new experiences.’
‘So you have a right to decide what’s good for me now?’ raged Leo.
Amer’s eyes gleamed.
‘More like a duty,’ he said blandly.
Leo was utterly unprepared for that.
‘What?’
‘Well, you keep throwing out challenges.’ He gave her his most winning smile. ‘What sort of a man would I be if I didn’t take them up?’
Leo was speechless.
Harrods returned with a frosted bottle and a crystal flute. Amer flicked his fingers. Harrods surrendered the bottle to him without comment. But as he withdrew Leo thought she detected wintry surprise.
Amer dealt expertly with the bottle and poured the wine. He gave her the glass and took up his own, toasting her.
‘Your health.’
Leo was still reeling. She raised her glass but could not think of anything to say. Amer clinked his goblet against hers.
‘Truce?’
Looking up, Leo found his eyes were smiling straight into hers. It made her feel as if the world was suddenly very small and turning so fast that she might fall off. It was all she could do not to grab hold of him to steady herself.
‘Come on, Leonora.’ It was as smooth as silk and twice as seductive. ‘What have you got to lose? Call a truce until sunset.’
She did not trust him an inch.
‘What sort of truce?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘You don’t tear into me and I don’t take your hair down.’
Leo choked.
‘Truce,’ he said firmly and held out his hand.
To her own amazement, Leo found herself giving him her own. This is crazy, she thought. I ought to insist on going home now.
But she did not. Instead she let him shake her hand. And then, of course, hold onto it. He ran his fingers over the back of her hand in a movement that was not quite a caress. It set her shivering as none of Simon’s most ardent kisses had though.
She hauled her hand back and said the first thing that came into her head.
‘Wh-what an interesting garden,’ she said quickly. ‘No one would think you were in the heart of London.’ I sound like my mother, she thought in despair.
Amer frowned.
‘Is it difficult to maintain?’ gabbled Leo. She held her champagne flute in front of her like an amulet.
Amer’s frown deepened. He let out an explosive sigh.
‘God spare me from Englishwomen. Every time anyone gets near your feelings you start talking like the Queen.’
Leo decided not to hear that. She started to stroll round the garden, asking intelligent questions about the plants. Their scent was almost overwhelming but she was determined not to let it get to her. Just as she took her wineglass with her but did not drink any more. She needed all her wits about her and she knew it.
So did Amer. He went with her, answering her questions with a barbed politeness that told her he knew exactly what she was doing.
‘Bog standard azalea,’ he said indifferently as she stopped in front of a ten-foot bush of honey-scented gold.
‘H-how interesting.’
He looked down at her ironically. Then a thought occurred to him and his mouth tilted.
‘It is, actually. This was the plant that intoxicated Xenophon’s soldiers on the way to Trebizond.’ He gave her a slow, lazy smile that set her pulses thrumming and her teeth on edge. ‘Do you rate your resistance higher or lower?’
Leo’s resistance was fraying at the edges with every moment and she suspected he knew it. When he looked at her like that, there did not seem to be much resistance left at all. It was not fair.
He laughed softly. Oh he knew what he was doing all right.
Get a grip, Leo told herself feverishly, Get a grip.
‘I thought we had a truce?’ she managed.
‘I haven’t laid a hand on you,’ he pointed out, all innocence.
She looked at him. He laughed and opened his hands. As if he were letting go of a leading rein, she thought indignantly.
‘All right,’ he said kindly. ‘I won’t tease you any more.’
‘Thank you.’
‘A least not until sunset,’ he murmured mischievously.
Leo looked at the sky. It was beginning to darken.
‘Perhaps we’d better eat soon.’
‘Coward,’ he taunted.
But he led the way back to the house and gave the order.
They ate in a small room on the first floor overlooking the garden. Leo hardly knew what the quiet servants put in front of her. She had no appetite and did no more than pick at it.
Amer was concerned.
‘Sorry,’ said Leo. She was enough her father’s daughter to feel guilty about wasting good food. ‘It’s been quite a day. I think I just ran out of steam.’
She fully expected him to say something sexy and provocative. But he did not.
Instead he said gravely, ‘Because of your broken engagement?’
Leo nursed her left hand. Her ring finger was still slightly sore. She gave a brief, unhappy smile.
‘Among other things.’
Amer looked at her thoughtfully.
‘Is this where you tell me why you are so anxious to get married?’
Leo jumped. ‘I’m not,’ she denied hotly.
‘That was not the impression you gave me earlier. When you offered me that deal,’ he reminded her.
She blushed. ‘Yes. Well. I was angry.’
‘Evidently.’ He paused. ‘I am often angry. It has never occurred to me to marry in order to vent my spleen.’
That gave her pause. ‘Put like that it doesn’t sound very nice.’
‘Or very sensible.’ He took a peach out of the silver filigree dish and began to peel it casually. Concentrating on the task, he said, ‘So answer my question. Why do you—’ He corrected himself. ‘Why did you think you wanted to marry?’
Leo looked at him. With the steep lids dropped, he was no longer a teasing duellist. Just someone who wanted to know something about her. Not about the business, or her father. Her.
She said abruptly, ‘I never thought I’d marry. I’ve always been the wallflower. I’ve sort of got used to it. I was going to run the business. I worked hard—’ Her voice became suspended.
Amer’s brows twitched together in a brief, fierce frown. He must have snicked himself with the knife, she thought.
Not raising his eyes, he said, ‘So why Simon Hartley?’
Leo shrugged. ‘The Hartleys want to save their stately home. Simon’s the eldest son.’
‘That explains his side of it,’ said Amer without expression. ‘What about yours?’
Leo stared out into the garden. Twilight had swathed it in a soft grey that somehow made her want to cry.
‘My father doesn’t really want me to work in the business, it seems,’ she said in a hard voice. ‘I needn’t have bothered to go to Cairo or anywhere else. He wants to start a dynasty. Work experience isn’t much good for that.’
Amer’s eyes lifted. He put the peach down and regarded her for a frowning moment.
‘And an impoverished aristocrat is?’ he drawled.
Leo did not look at him. If she kept her eyes fixed on the garden and very wide, the shaming tears might subside.
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’
No you don’t, she thought. You don’t see at all.
She said, ‘You must think I’m a fool.’
There was a pause. She did not look at him.
‘I think y
ou’re a coward,’ Amer said coolly.
Leo gasped, her eyes flying to him in spite of herself. He was smiling but the grey eyes were nearly black and there was a pulse throbbing at his temple as if he was so angry he could barely contain himself.
‘But not because you did what your father wanted,’ he went on. ‘I think you did what you wanted. And for all the wrong reasons.’ He was not drawling any more.
Leo thought: He sounds furious. He must terrify people when he looks at them like that. Why am I not terrified?
And then her own anger took over.
‘How dare you?’
The unamused smile widened. ‘You asked,’ he clipped.
‘You don’t know a thing about it.’
Amer was coldly furious.
‘I know you didn’t get engaged until you realised that I was in the country.’
Leo felt her colour rise. ‘What has that got to do with it?’ she snapped.
Quite suddenly Amer smiled. ‘So you don’t deny it.’ He sounded pleased with himself.
Damn. She looked away.
‘The timing was an unfortunate coincidence,’ she said loftily.
He raised his eyebrows.
‘It was.’
He shrugged. ‘Will you tell me something?’
‘Probably not,’ said Leo, thoroughly disturbed.
‘Were you ever in love with him?’
‘Simon?’ Leo was shocked. ‘Of course I—’
He held up a hand. ‘Don’t lie to me, Leonora. Tell me nothing, if you don’t want to. But don’t tell me lies.’
Leo was silenced. The fight went out of her all of a sudden. She passed a hand over her eyes.
‘I don’t know,’ she muttered.
‘You don’t know if you’re going to tell me anything? Or you don’t know if you loved him?’ Amer pressed.
She glared at him. ‘Stop interrogating me.’
He laughed. ‘All right. Have some peach.’ He speared a segment and offered it to her.
She took it. But the little gesture shook Leo. It was too intimate. It seemed to imply that they had eaten like this many times before. And—even more unsettling—would again.
He watched her eat the piece of fruit. His expression was unreadable. So why did she feel as if she had just conceded him a victory?
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