Revenge by Seduction by Alex Ryder

Author:Alex Ryder [Ryder, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1998-12-25T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE Pine Lodge was one of those grand, early Victorian houses built as a summer retreat for some long-forgotten captain of industry from the English Midlands. Although the interior had undergone a thorough modernisation, the exterior, with its arched windows and long, flagged terrace, still bore witness to a gentler age of elegance and style. It lay between the road and the broad, fast-flowing river to the rear.

Catriona swung the car into the car park and came to rest between a Range Rover and a Volvo estate, then took the keys from the ignition and passed them to Ryan. It was a silent and symbolic gesture meant to show that for the moment at least her job was finished and that he had no further call on her services. Whether he’d pay any attention was another matter, of course.

They’d both undid their seat belts, and she was on the point of opening her door when she paused and said quietly, ‘Look…I didn’t bring a bag with me and my hair is a mess. I don’t suppose you’ve got a comb I could borrow, have you?’

He studied her without criticism, then said, ‘You should have kept your window shut. I see what you mean. Well, we can’t have you going in to lunch looking like a gypsy wench after a fight with a game-keeper.’ He lifted his jacket from the rear seat and searched in the inside pocket. ‘Here you are. Try this.’

If there was one thing she was fussy about it was using someone else’s towel or comb, and she peered at it suspiciously. Thankfully, but not surprisingly, it was faultlessly clean. With muttered thanks she began untangling her long red tresses. When she’d finished she handed the comb back and said, ‘If I’d known we were going to stop for lunch at a place like this I’d have worn something decent.’

Again his eyes travelled over her in that provocative way they had. The way that brought her out in a rash and hot flushes. ‘You look perfectly charming to me,’ he said with straight-faced sincerity. ‘A picture of young, unsullied innocence, as the Reverend McPhee might say.’

There was a stinging reply she could have made to that, but she let it go and followed him in tight-lipped silence towards the entrance. She badly needed a drink. Something in a tall, frosted glass with lots of ice, which would take away the sticky dryness in her mouth.

They crossed the car park and went into the hotel. While he made enquiries at the reception desk she looked around the main foyer. There was a boutique and the inevitable souvenir shop, and another devoted entirely to fishing tackle. Above a huge open fireplace—thankfully unlit at this time of the year—a salmon the size of a baby shark was stuffed and mounted in a glass case. There was a brass plate saying that the fish had been caught in 1960 in the river to the rear. There was nothing like giving your customers a bit of inspiration and motivation for staying another few days, she thought wryly.

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