which sent her sprawling sideways into him, grabbing at him to stop herself falling on the floor.

His arm came round her, supporting her, holding her close to him, and she felt her treacherous body shudder with awareness.

His head shifted so that he could look down into her wide, disturbed green eyes. She looked away, unable to meet that stare, afraid of what her eyes must be revealing. She must not give away too much; she had already betrayed too much to him. She wanted to clamp a mask on her face from now on, stop him guessing any more about her.

‘Pippa, don’t look like that,’ he murmured huskily, and his mouth came down, skimmed hers for a second before the lift stopped, and he straightened before guiding her out of the lift.

His arm was round her waist, his hand beneath her breast; she was afraid he could feel the fierce beating of her heart, the raggedness of her breathing. Every time he touched her, looked at her, there was this wild reaction; she couldn’t stop it. The sooner she could get away from him the sooner she might start to feel safe. At the moment she was living moment to moment, like someone on the very edge of a live volcano.

‘You look lovely,’ he suddenly told her. ‘I love that dress, all those shades of green. And your hair looks wonderful against them, a perfect match, chestnut and green. You look like spring itself.’

She flushed, her throat trembling in pleasure. ‘Thank you.’

‘Renata and Alex have gone into the dining room; they’ll be waiting at the table,’ he told her as they walked through the foyer.

‘Has Renata changed for dinner, too?’

‘Yes, she put on something black, very formal. I’ve always been turned off by the sight of women in black; it makes me feel I’m going to a funeral.’

When Pippa saw Renata a moment later she had to be incredulous about Randal’s comment. The ‘something black’ he had said Renata was wearing was body-hugging, sleek, daring black satin with a plunging neckline, revealing a great deal of golden skin and the deep valley between her high breasts, curving down into her small waist and swelling out again, smoothly, over her hips, ending at her knees.

She looked sensational; men at every other table were staring, hardly conscious of what they were eating, while the other women in the room looked daggers at her. There was nothing funereal about her whatever.

‘Is that what you call formal?’ Pippa whispered to Randal as they walked towards the table.

‘Black always is, isn’t it?’

‘Not when it looks like that!’

A trio was playing light, popular music, seated on a dais in a corner of the room—a pianist, a drummer, a trombone player. Diners talked over them; the room was quite crowded and bustling with waiters coming and going.

As they joined the other two Alex rose, smiling. ‘Hello, Pippa, you look very pretty. What an unusual dress.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, then turned to smile at Renata. ‘And you are causing a sensation in that dress, as if you didn’t know!’

Renata sipped a champagne cocktail, purring like a cat that had swallowed cream. ‘Why, thanks, that’s sweet of you. Now, read the menu and choose your meal; I’m ravenous! I ate a small lunch, now I need something more substantial.’

Pippa glanced quickly at the menu, which was rather more extensive than the lunchtime menu, decided on minestrone soup followed by chicken Stroganoff with rice.

The waiter came along to take their order. As he left again, Alex asked her, ‘Did Johnny get Room Service?’

‘Yes, cheeseburger and fries!’

‘I wouldn’t mind that, myself. I guess I’m primitive—I prefer junk food to the sort of posh stuff they serve here. Mind you, I have to eat a lot of salads and fruit, to keep my weight down. You can’t have a fat golfer, not if you want to win tournaments. Is Johnny okay up there on his own, do you think?’

‘He was asleep when we left him, but I told him to ring Reception if he woke up and felt frightened.’ She glanced at Renata, who was toying with her champagne flute, looking bored. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting; I was making sure Johnny settled down in bed.’

Alex gave her a warm, reassuring smile. ‘That’s okay, it was kind of you to take care of him. He’s a good kid. I’ve got quite fond of him. I promised to take him to one of my tournaments some time. He seemed keen to come along. His friends at school are golf fans, he told me; some of them play at a course near the school. I think he wants to impress them.’ He looked at Randal. ‘If that’s okay with you?’

‘In principle, yes, but remember, he’s at school a lot of the time and can’t just go off for the day. In the summer holidays he has plenty of free time, but not at other times of the year.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, Randal, we don’t want to drag around with the kid in tow too often, whining and wanting burgers all the time,’ Renata said with a snap. ‘He’s a nuisance, always wanting attention. Unless we hire a nanny to take care of him. I guess we could do that. I can’t wait for him to grow up a little. I wouldn’t mind a teenager hanging around, someone you can talk to. But little kids are a pain.’

‘You’re his mother, for God’s sake! You’re supposed to love him, enjoy taking care of him!’ erupted Randal, glaring at her. ‘Pippa has ten times more patience with him than you do!’

Renata gave Pippa a derisive glance. ‘Yes, well, Pippa’s obviously the maternal type, doesn’t mind running around after a spoilt, whiny kid.’

Dark red colour splashed Randal’s cheeks. ‘Johnny is not spoilt, nor is he whiny!’

Alex chimed in, ‘No, he isn’t. He’s fun, a great kid!’ He made an apologetic gesture. ‘But Renata simply isn’t the motherly type, you know.’

‘No, I’m certainly not!’ she said, tossing her head,

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