'Don't let it get cold.' Kyle held out a huge pepper-mill.
'This-----' she savoured the first mouthful of asparagus '-is absolutely heavenly.'
'I'm glad. It would have been an awful letdown if the food had been disappointing after all I'd been told.'
'No chance of that.'
They were just starting on the main course of duckling when Kyle looked up with an expression of surprise and... and something else, too instantly veiled to be identified, as he recognised who had just come in.
'Inés.' His voice was neutral, indicating neither interest nor pleasure, but it was impossible for Leigh to forget how consistently their names had been linked at one time. But then wasn't that true of practically every presentable female employed at the Palais de 1'Europe?
Preparing her own expression to one of friendliness, she looked up, but the smile on her lips froze as her eyes were drawn beyond, to the man whose hand was placed so protectively on the Spanish woman's elbow. And the expression in Patrick Cavour's eyes as he returned her look was stony with indifference, so cold, in fact, that conversely Leigh was incandescent with fury.
But that didn't stop her habit of registering so many meaningless details-the dark suit, single-breasted so that it showed off the tall, powerful figure, the broad shoulders of the sportsman, the narrow waist... God...
Without her realising, her fingers began to play nervously with the blue beads... She would never forget the first time at Loughskerrie, when she had seen him on that enormous black gelding with the raking stride, more the Centaur of ancient myth than two distinct animals. It had been later that same day-such memories, once set in train, could not be aborted-that he had taken her off in to the Wicklow Hills, mounted in front of him, one arm pulling her taut back against him... The images were insistent, doubtless made more forceful by her recent entanglement. She was back in that secret dell, lying on the moss, soft and deep as a feather-bed, while Patrick...
No... She dropped her fork with a clatter, smiled a wan apology to Kyle ...No. This time she thought she had hold of her treacherous thoughts. This was madness; if anyone were to guess-if he were to guess...
She forced herself back to the present, struggling against waves of heat, determined to make her smile convincing, but surely her expressive eyes, wide and panic-stricken, must have betrayed dismay when she realised that arrangements were being made for the other two to join them. Even now the waiter was rearranging things; cutlery and glasses were being replaced...
'I do hope we're not intruding?' In6s-and it was a small relief-had been placed opposite Leigh and was being all charm. 'I can't understand how there could have been such a mistake when I booked last week.'
Last week? Leigh forced her stiff lips into a smile. So, last week, when she and Patrick had been... together... this dinner had already been arranged. Applying herself to rapidly congealing duck, she found that her appetite had disappeared; even the tiniest slivers she could swallow only with difficulty.
As always, it was best to concentrate on the mundane. Ines was the essence of chic good taste: a dress in dark red silk emphasised the slightly voluptuous figure which might-oh, the relief of uncharitable thoughts-run slightly to fat in middle age, but which in the meantime would cause most men to drool. The glossy black hair was coiled into its usual knot, which in spite of its severity seemed so right for her exotic style...
Leigh's attention was diverted when she became aware of Patrick's fixed stare. She directed a flicking sideways glance in his direction, hoping he might pick up on her disapproval, but if he did he certainly gave no sign. His swift, chilly assessment swept over her in an instant, then, with a narrowing of his eyes, it moved to her companion. And back again. That contemptuous searing expression told her as clearly as if he had spelled it out that he was coming to some conclusion, solving some problem...
And then her mind focused on Kyle, and the penny dropped. Of course. He was putting two and two together and making a complete mess of the answer. How dared he? she thought angrily. How dared he assume that she would choose someone like her employer, a married man, whose reputation was...? Especially when he was escorting a woman like Ines da Silva. How dared he judge? Oh, if only she could summon an equally opinionated expression then he would be under no illusions...
And even if she and Kyle were... But on the other hand-and it was little comfort to remember-wasn't this exactly the impression she had been so keen to convey? So what had she to complain about...? It could hardly have worked better if it had been carefully planned, only... it hurt so much having him thinking-----She pulled her thoughts up short.
Now he and Ines were ordering, the Spanish woman leaning over to Patrick, one hand, with lots of rings and red nails, placed ultimately on his dark sleeve as they discussed the menu. She said something in a voice too low to catch, and when he laughed Leigh was stabbed by jealousy. That deep, ultimate sound; once she had imagined it was for her alone... She pulled herself together. What fools we are, we women, she thought, allowing ourselves to be taken in...
It was a relief when Kyle spoke, forcing her attention, though it was to Patrick that his remarks were directed. 'So it looks as if you'll be getting quite a large grant for your cause, Patrick. I think we were all impressed by the forceful way you put your case to the committee.'
'I hope it will be successful.' His sudden grin and shrug dismissed his own efforts. 'Not my cause, as such-my company has simply been retained by the agency.'
'But of course you're being modest.' Inés smiled admiringly at her companion. 'You, Kyle, know well enough, but perhaps you don't, Leigh, that Patrick spent a long time on the ground with an aid project.'
Fortunately there was no need for Leigh to say anything since Kyle was doing it for her. 'Yes, and of course that makes all the difference. It shows you have some idea of just what you're talking about-rare enough in our circles.' He changed tack. 'You didn't find it a handicap, then, taking time out on your career for several years?'
'No.' After a pause, while he and Ines were served, he looked up briefly, then, taking up his fork, broke off a piece of salmon. 'The reverse, if anything. I don't think experience of that kind is ever a handicap. In the end it comes down to confidence, I suppose.'
As if, thought Leigh sourly, any Cavour had ever lacked that quality. Then she allowed her thoughts to wander, only vaguely picking up phrases like 'life-enhancing experience' and 'the cultural density of life' as they floated about her. She was even aware of her own voice, throwing in the occasional uncontroversial bland remark from time to time-the kind of comments a robot might as easily have produced.
All of a sudden she started as Kyle, quite unexpectedly, put out his hand and touched hers, asking in a manner that was almost protective, 'Am I neglecting you, love? Tell me what you would like next. Cheese? Dessert? I've been told the tarte aux pommes is something of an experience.'
'Not another thing, Kyle.' Now all she wanted was to be done with the evening; she wanted to be on her own and preferably in bed. 'I've had a wonderful dinner and-----'
'Good. Two coffees.' He spoke to the hovering waiter and then to the other two. 'I promised to get Leigh back to the flat before midnight.'
'The flat?' Inés raised a very slender black eyebrow, glancing curiously at Leigh, who was giving all her attention to a young woman at the next table, trying to be impervious to Patrick Cavour's thunderous expression.
'Mmm. I have some business interests in Paris, and it seemed sensible to have a flat rather than pay astronomical hotel bills. We stay there when we come here on private business.'
'But...' The arrival of the coffee robbed Leigh of the chance to explain that they never came together, and that if Kyle had unwittingly given the impression that they were both going back there tonight, then... But when the waiter had gone, the conversation had moved on, and the explanation would surely have enhanced rather than allayed any suspicions which he...which they might have had.
She drank quickly, then reached pointedly for her handbag, and to her relief Kyle took the hint. 'If you'll excuse us? I promised to take Leigh to see the moon rise over the Seine...'
What on earth was the man trying to do? Leigh looked at him irritably. Was he trying to make them think...?
'In that case-----' when she chose, Inés could be quite acid' -I hope you have your rose-tinted spectacles. I doubt you'll see it otherwise.'