No Mistaking Love

bouquets would be much more appropriate for Helen and Lynette.' He glanced down at the flowers Xavier had sent and his expression hardened once more. `Send them dozen red roses each.'

`Any message?' Kate asked sweetly. `Or would you like me to make one up for you?

'Just put my name on them,' Luke said wit] a nasty look.

`Very romantic,' Kate murmured as he turned away.

`I'm not a romantic,' he snarled, heading for his office. `And nor are Helen or Lynette.'

`Then why bother sending them flowers?'

'It gives them some kind of trophy to display that's all. And, if all it takes is money, I don' care!'

No, Luke was definitely not a good man to fall in love with.

Kate phoned the florist and tried not to thin: about Valentine's Day. A day for lovers. It wasn't a good day to be hopelessly in love with someone who didn't, would never, love you.

She woke the next morning feeling unusually depressed, and she went through her routine of getting ready without enthusiasm. When the doorbell rang she struggled into her dressing gown and opened the door, expecting to see the postman with something that was too big to fit through the letter-box. Probably a bill, she thought glumly. He certainly wasn't likely to have a pile of Valentine's cards for her!

There was no one there. Kate looked out, puzzled, and then her gaze dropped to the doorstep. A large bunch of pink tulips, still tightly bundled, lay there.

Kate picked them up slowly. There was no message.

What was it she had said? A simple bunch of tulips would be much more romantic. Closing the door behind her, she buried her face in the flowers with a slow smile. They could only be from Luke. Her heart soared even as her mind struggled to keep it firmly under control.

`I'm not a romantic'-but he had given her flowers. Of course, it might be a gesture from a busy man to say that her hard work did not go as unnoticed as she thought. Yes, it might be that. Kate put the tulips in a glass jug and stood back to admire them. It would be just like Luke to do something confusing like this rather than just come out with a compliment!

She speculated about the flowers all the way to work, unable to decide whether she should thank him, or whether he would prefer her to pretend she didn't know whom they were from.

In the event, he solved her dilemma by being out of the office all morning, and in such a bad mood when he finally came in that Kate decided to restrict her comments to the bare necessities. When he had snapped her head off for the fourth time she even began to wonder if she had been mistaken, and was thankful that she hadn't said anything.

`I suppose you want to leave early, since you're going out with your Frenchman tonight?' Luke grumbled as she laid some letters on his desk.

`I don't need to leave early, but I'd certainly like to leave on time for once.' Kate looked back at him calmly.

`There's no need to sound such a martyr. Anyone would think I kept you chained to this desk twenty-four hours a day!'

`I don't usually get away before half-past six,' Kate pointed out, unruffled.

Luke chewed at his thumbnail. `Where's he taking you?'

'I'm not sure-it's a restaurant he knows in Soho somewhere.'

'Xavier would know a little restaurant in Soho!' Luke snorted with disgust and then glared at her suspiciously. `What are you going to wear?

Not that black dress, I hope?'

`I'm afraid I haven't given it much thought yet,' Kate said frostily, resenting the inquisition. What did it matter to him? He had already asked her to book a table for dinner that night, so he obviously had plans of his own.

Kate had grown more and more crabby as the day had passed, and she began to feel foolish about her euphoria over the flowers. Even if he had sent them, it hadn't been the romantic gesture she had hoped. He was far too busy having a good time with Helen or Lynette or any of the other women who rang up and wasted her time insisting on leaving messages for him.

`Is he going to pick you up from home?' Luke persisted.

Kate sighed, exasperated. She felt like telling him to mind his own business, but that would only stir his curiosity even more. `I'll probably meet him in town,' she said in a resigned tone. `He doesn't have a car here, and it would be difficult for him to get to my flat. It's not exactly central.'

`It's not that far,' Luke said, and then stopped as if suddenly realising that he had betrayed himself.

`I didn't realise that you knew where I lived.' Kate lifted one eyebrow coolly, but a treacherous glow of hope began to spread through her.

`Your address is on your CV,' Luke blustered, then grinned a little shamefacedly.

Kate's chill hauteur was no proof against his smile, and even as she warned herself not to give in too easily, she was unable to prevent smiling back.

`Thank you for the flowers,' she said. `They're lovely.'

`They didn't look much to me.' Luke shuffled the papers on his desk gruffly. `Can't see why anyone would prefer something like that to a proper bouquet.'

Kate wondered if he was waiting for her to reassure him that she hadn't read too much into the fact that he had given her flowers.

`There must be something wrong with my taste,' she said lightly. `How did the roses go down?’

'Received with shrieks of delight, I gather, Luke said callously, and then looked up at her She was wearing a straight rust-coloured skirt with the olive-green jumper she had worn in Paris, and looked quietly businesslike. `I don't suppose you shrieked?’

'No, but I'm sure I liked my tulips more.'

`Really?'

Their eyes met over the desk.

`Really,' she assured him.

`Kate-' Luke began, pushing back his chair, but just then the phone rang. With an exclamation of impatience he snatched up the receiver, and Kate took the opportunity to slip out of the room. She had heard enough to know that it was Helen.

Luke's abrupt swings of mood confused her. One moment he was brusque and cynical, and the next he would look into her eyes and she could swear that the smile that lurked there was for her alone.

Don't do this, Kate, she warned herself. Don't fall in love with him all over again, just when you were doing so well just being his secretary. She sat on the bus, reciting a litany of Luke's faults to herself, as if it were a charm to keep herself immune to his dangerous attraction. If only he would just stick to being rude and unpleasant, it would be so much easier.

She tried to concentrate on the evening ahead, but the first things she saw as she let herself into her flat were the tulips, already starting to open. She loved their clean lines and the graceful droop of their heads, and touched them gently as she went past. They were much nicer than roses.

For Xavier's sake, Kate exerted herself to make an effort. She looked at the black dress hanging in the wardrobe, but in the end chose the jade. The black dress belonged to Luke and that unforgettable walk through the dark, quiet streets of Paris.

Xavier was delighted to see her and full of Gallic charm. Kate found him pleasant and entertaining, but her mind kept drifting off to Luke. She wondered where he was, who he was with, what he was doing. She missed his abrasive presence with a nagging little ache.

This is stupid, she told herself as she smiled and pretended to listen to Xavier. How can you possibly be missing him? You saw him a couple of hours ago, and you'll see more than enough of him tomorrow. He'd only sit there and shout at you.

But still she couldn't wait for the evening to be over.

`And how is Luke?' Xavier was asking.

Impossible. Irresistible. `He's fine,' said Kate.

`He didn't sound very pleased when I told him I hoped to take you out to dinner. In fact, I wondered if he might have been a bit jealous, hein?'

Faint colour tinged Kate's cheekbones. `Oh, no. He's just funny about mixing business with pleasure.'