to take Samantha's hand and lead her away.

It was one of the customs of Lynwood that all serious discussion took

place in the study.  Chantelle led the way, and went immediately to the

false-fronted bookcase that concealed the liquor cabinet, and commenced

the ritual of preparing a drink for Nicholas.  He wanted to stop her. It

was something from long ago, recalling too much that was painful, but

instead, he watched the delicate but precise movements of her hands

pouring exactly the correct measure of Chivas Royal Salute into the

crystal glass, adding the soda and the single cube of ice.

What a pretty young girl, Nicholas.  He said nothing.  On the ornate

Louis Quatorze desk was a silver-framed photograph of Duncan Alexander

and Chantelle together, and he looked away and moved to the fireplace,

standing with his back to the blaze as he had done on a thousand other

evenings.

Chantelle brought the glass to him, and stood close, looking up at him -

and her fragrance touched a deep nostalgic chord.  He had first bought

Calkhe for her on a spring morning in Paris; with an effort he forced

the memory aside.

What did you want to speak to me about, is it Peter?  No.  Peter is

doing as well as we can hope for, in the circumstances, He still resents

Duncan - but she shrugged, and moved away.  He had almost forgotten how

narrow was her waist, he would still be able to span it with both hands.

It's hard to explain, but it's Christy Marine, Nicholas.  I desperately

need the advise of someone I can trust., You can trust me?  he asked.

Isn't it strange?  I would still trust you with my life., She came back

to him, standing disconcertingly close, enveloping him with her scent

and heady beauty.  He sipped at the whisky to distract himself.

Even though I have no right to ask you, Nicholas, still I know you won't

refuse me, will you?  She wove spells, he could feel the mesh falling

like gossamer around him.

I always was a sucker, wasn't I?  Now she touched his arm.  No,

Nicholas, please don't be bitter.  She held his gaze directly.

How can I help you?  Her touch on his arm disturbed him, and, sensing

this, she increased the pressure of her fingers for a moment, then

lifted her hand and glanced at the slim white gold Piaget on her wrist.

Duncan will be home soon - and what I have to tell you is long and

complicated.  Can we meet in London early next week?  Chantelle/he

began.

Nicky, please.  Nicky, she was the only one who ever called him that. it

was too familiar, too intimate.

When?  You are meeting Duncan on Tuesday morning to discuss the

arbitration of Golden Adventurer.  Yes.  Will you call me at Eaton

Square when you finish?  I'll wait by the telephone.  Chantelle 'Nicky,

I have nobody else to turn to.  He had never been able to refuse her -

which was part of the reason he had lost her, he thought wryly.

There was no engine noise, just the low rush of air past the body of the

Mercedes.

Damn these seats, they weren't made for lovers, Samantha said.

We'll be home in an hour.  I don't know if I can wait that long,

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