Nights in White Satin: A Loveswept Classic Romance (6 page)

“I’d better go back inside.”

He nodded. “I have to get to work anyway. I’ll be in for breakfast later.”

“Sure.” She walked away slowly, tucking her cotton robe around her. There was a devil at Devil’s Hall, she mused, and his name was Rick Kitteridge.

“A rail strike!”

Rick nodded, surprised at the women’s consternation. “Today is rail strike day. You won’t be able to take the train into London.”

Jill shook her head. “And this happens once a week?”

“Like clockwork.” He grinned, admiring the way her nose crinkled when she frowned. Earlier that morning she had looked young and vulnerable in her cotton nightgown. It had been soft under his fingers. So had she. Now she looked very sophisticated in a blue soft knit dress. It clung in all the right places. So had her mouth in that fiery kiss. Breakfast had never been so enjoyable.

“We Brits,” he added, “are too polite to incapacitate ourselves completely, so we just indulge in a little annoyance. You can always go sight-seeing tomorrow.”

“But we have to—” Jill stopped abruptly, hesitated, then said, “I mean, it throws our schedule for sight-seeing completely off.”

“Looks like you’ll have to drive after all, Jill,” Lettice said, sighing in resignation. “I’ll navigate.”

“Lord help me,” Jill muttered.

“Nobody’s navigating anybody,” Rick said sternly. Both women merely raised their eyebrows at his tone. He realized they were quite prepared to go anyway. He sighed and mentally kissed the farm
good-bye. “I’ll drive you to London, if you insist on going.”

“No!” Jill and his grandmother exclaimed at the same time. They looked at each other in dismay.

Rick’s suspicion level rose one hundred notches.

“I know you’re very busy,” Jill said, “with the farm and—”

“And I know,” he interrupted, “how tired you are from the flight—”

“I’m fine.” She smiled brightly. “In fact, I feel terrific today. It’s beautiful outside. Don’t worry. I can get your grandmother there and back in one piece.”

“You forget, I’ve seen you try to turn me into two pieces—”

“How was I to know you were skulking in the garage?” she asked indignantly.

“You weren’t,” he admitted, then glared at her. “And I wasn’t skulking. But it’s a long trip, and you just drove it the other day.”

He hadn’t wanted to mention the incident at the garage, hadn’t wanted to think about his first touch of her satiny skin and how it had made him long for more. He’d nearly kissed her then—until she’d casually mentioned a man she was to look up. That had shot off a bullet of jealousy that would match any adolescent boy’s over his first girl. And that had led to this morning’s kiss. It had fulfilled every promise, and created a wealth of others. She had turned him inside out. Now he’d better turn himself right-side in. He had no claim, and he’d better have no interest. Besides, he ought to be paying attention to whatever she
and his grandmother were
not
telling him about this trip. He had a feeling it was trouble.

“Rick, don’t be silly,” his grandmother said in the sweetest of voices. “You have a farm that demands all of your time—”

“And I have a farm manager for times like this,” he snapped back.

“And I said I am perfectly capable of driving,” Jill broke in firmly. Her jaw was set and her eyes were glittering with suppressed anger. He realized she possessed an unexpected core of steel.

The argument was ridiculous, he acknowledged. However, a little common sense wasn’t about to stop it. “Either
I
drive you or you wait until the trains are back running again, because I will remove the keys from
your
car so you can’t drive. Now, let’s stop being obtuse.”

Jill was silent for one long moment as she stared at him, then she sat back in the dining room chair and patted her mouth with her napkin. It was an interesting movement, he decided, watching in fascination. He could watch all day. Her eyes widened slightly, the only indication that a thought had occurred to her. She tilted her head and gave him a benign smile. “Then you will drive.”

“Good.”

The only problem was he didn’t feel good. Instead, he felt as if he’d just been conned. And he didn’t like it.

Why did he have to be so damned attractive? Jill wondered, her attention straying from the Waterford crystal vase she was holding to Rick’s
profile. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him frown at a display. From her angle, it was just a bare curve of the eyebrow and a minute turning down of the mouth that gave away his expression. He had a strong jawline. Her fingers ached to touch it, to follow its curve. She knew his lips could be gentle in one second and demanding in the next. Both kinds of kisses had been haunting her thoughts all morning. She had felt them on her mouth, her body. Every inch of her skin had been covered by his phantom kisses, the passion rising.…

“I didn’t think going to Liberty’s was sight-seeing.”

Jill nearly dropped the vase as his voice broke through her daydreaming. It took two catches before it was securely back in her hands.

He grinned. “Drop that and you’ll have to take out a mortgage.”

“Probably two,” she agreed, ruthlessly suppressing the heat rising to her cheeks. What she was thinking was bad enough, but he didn’t have to know it. She refused to be rattled by him and his kisses, real or imagined. Composing her jittery nerves as best she could, she carefully set the vase back on the shelf. “And we’re taking a break from sight-seeing to go shopping, Rick.”

“But we haven’t even started yet.”

He was staring at her in that intense way again. She sighed inwardly. He was so perceptive. And sexy. She was going to have to do something about these stares of his. They were distracting.
He
was distracting. Instead of mooning over his kiss, she should be thinking about how to get away from him and get to Mr. Havilan at Whitehall.
When Rick had insisted on driving them, she had decided to play it by ear in regard to Mr. Havilan. But now her appointment was in little more than an hour. The “ear” better present itself shortly, or she’d be in big trouble.

“Okay, the truth,” she said. “We’re planning to rob the store. Happy now?”

“Thrilled.” But he shook his head.

“If you had let me drive—” she began.

He touched her lips with his forefinger. Her insides flipped at the gesture. She forced herself to stand still and not give away her reaction.

Rick pulled his finger back as if scorched. “We already had that argument.”

“So we did.” She wandered over to another section of the department store. Rick followed. She frowned and looked around for Lettice.

“Do you like your zoo work?” he asked.

She glanced at him, then away. “Yes. It’s great, and it’s unpredictable. That’s what makes it fun.”

“Amorous mules, you mean.”

She nodded, concentrating on the object before her … until she realized she was staring at the hips of a male dummy standing at a table-setting display. She immediately turned toward a chaste set of kitchen glasses.

“Just animals in general,” she replied, clearing her throat. “It isn’t a regular nine-to-five job. And I can make a little difference in the world, which is nice. But I just like the job.”

Rick picked up a knife from the display, then set it down again. “Looking forward to the new one?”

“Yes.” She sighed, thinking of what she had to do before she could get back to start it.

“You don’t sound happy.”

“I am.” She glanced sideways at him, wondering how she was going to get to Mr. Havilan without her faithful companion. Tonto must have cut the Lone Ranger some slack upon occasion. And where was Lettice?

She edged away from Rick, casually, as if she were moving forward to look at more displays. He edged with her. Clearly wherever she went, he intended to go.

His closeness sparked panic in her. She tried to think straight. But all that went through her head was a silly conversation he’d had after breakfast with Grahame, who had wanted him to buy a new kitchen service while they were in the city. Where the hell was Lettice? And why couldn’t she concentrate on getting away from Mr. Sexy and getting to Mr. Havilan? The problem with the necklace seemed so far away.

Jill froze.

“What?” Rick asked, turning around when she stopped.

“Grahame,” she said, grabbing Rick’s arm, ignoring the heat that shot through her at the touch. As she dragged him along to the counter, she said, “He wanted you to get a new kitchen service. Here we are, so let’s get it.”

“No. Let’s let Grahame get it,” Rick protested, digging in his heels. “I don’t know what to get, Jill.”

“Oh, stop fussing.” She began the trek to the counter again. “Besides, Grahame doesn’t expect you to actually do it, so that then he can complain to his heart’s content. This way you can outwit
him, and you can thank your grandmother for wanting to go shopping first.”

“Good point. Where is my grandmother anyway?” he asked, looking around.

“Can I help you?” a saleswoman asked, fluffing out her multicolored hair. Obviously, new-wave punk had hit London with a vengeance.

“This gentleman is looking for a new kitchen service,” Jill said.

“China, ceramic, ironstone, or resistant glass?”

“I don’t know,” Rick said, blinking.

“Show him everything,” Jill suggested. Just a moment more, she thought, and pushed away a twinge of guilt.

The woman got out several kinds of place settings and launched into the merits of each. Rick listened courteously.

Jill patted his arm. “While you’re doing this, I’ll go find Lettice.”

He nodded.

She smiled and scooted away. She had no sooner crossed the threshold of the department than a hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

“I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes!” Lettice snapped. “I thought if I lost myself you’d come looking for me.”

Jill laughed. “Great minds think alike. Let’s go.”

Rick crumpled the note and gazed around the store, then refocused on the woman who’d just brought him the note. She looked half-scared.

“How long ago did they leave?” he asked, furious that he had been engaged in discussing
kitchenware while his grandmother and Jill decided finally to go sight-seeing. The note directed him to meet them at Madame Tussaud’s in two hours. He’d kill Grahame when he got home.

“They left a little bit ago, sir,” the clerk said. “I’m very sorry—”

“Right.” He spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“I saw them get into a taxi,” the girl called after him.

Rick bit off an angry curse and kept on walking. He’d allowed himself to be taken in by a wry wit and a soft smile. And a great body. His grandmother was making a monkey out of him too. If he had thought he’d been imagining that the two women were up to something, he’d just had the truth confirmed.

He’d be at Tussaud’s early. Very early. Something about the location bothered him. He dismissed it for the moment, deciding he couldn’t wait to hear Jill and his grandmother wiggle out of this one.

“Well done, Jill,” Lettice said, smiling in satisfaction when they finally caught a taxi.

“Not really,” Jill said, immersed in a deluge of guilt. She hated running out on Rick like that, but what choice had she had? His intense look had been making her increasingly uncomfortable, and she’d been half-tempted to confess her deception. Lord, but he would have made a great interrogator. Women probably fell at his feet under that Valentino stare of his. She knew she wanted
to. She wanted to feel his kiss again, his hands caressing her skin.…

Jill hauled back her straying thought, because it was straying into territory better left untouched. She had a great new job to go home to, and a great new life ahead of her. She wasn’t about to ruin everything by indulging in a vacation fling. Even if she could. Rick had said it wouldn’t happen again. She believed him. Already, she’d come to realize he was a man of honor.

More guilt washed through her, and she bit back a groan. “Do you think that clerk gave him the message we left?”

“Of course,” Lettice said. “She looked young and honest, and I tipped her ten pounds. By the way, what did you write in the note?”

Jill watched the crawling traffic with a heavy heart. What should have been a twenty-minute walk to Whitehall would be a forty-five-minute ride. They’d never get there in time. “Just that we were going on since he was busy with his own shopping, and he could catch up with us at Madame Tussaud’s at three.”

“All the way over there?” Lettice exclaimed.

Jill flushed. “It was the only place I could think of that wasn’t remotely near Havilan’s office.”

Lettice smiled. “I haven’t been to Madame Tussaud’s in thirty years. It might be fun.”

“If we live that long,” Jill muttered with great foreboding.

“There you are! Why aren’t you in line getting tickets?”

Fury ripped through Rick at his grandmother’s greeting, and he decided she had flipped her silver rinse. “Where the bloody hell have you two been?”

His grandmother raised an eyebrow. “Do not take that tone of voice with me, Roderick Kitteridge. You had shopping to do, and we had sightseeing to do. So we have been sight-seeing. Right, Jill?”