In Petrakis's Power. Maggie Cox

at the handsome and stylishly dressed man standing in front of her as she hurried by, she noticed. No doubt they were privately wondering why a girl as unremarkable as herself should capture his attention for so much as a second. Her heart skipped one or two anxious beats.

      ‘Yes, I do,’ he replied.

      His jaw firmed and his blue eyes shimmered enigmatically. For Natalie, meeting such an arresting glance was like standing in the eye of a sultry tropical storm—it shook her as the wind shook a fragile sapling, threatening to uproot it. She held her voluminous red leather bag over her chest, as though it were some kind of protective shield, and couldn’t help frowning. Instead of sending her self-esteem soaring, Ludo’s suggestion that they meet up for a drink had had the opposite effect on her confidence. It hardly helped that in faded jeans and a floral print gypsy-style blouse she felt singularly dowdy next to him in his expensive Italian tailoring.

      ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘I only asked for your address so that I can send you the money for my train fare. You’ve already indicated that you’re a very busy man, so why would you go to all the trouble of meeting up with me instead of simply letting me post you a cheque?’

      Her companion shook his head bemusedly, as if he couldn’t fathom what must be, to him, a very untypical response. Natalie guessed he wasn’t used to women turning him down for anything.

      ‘Aside from allowing you to personally pay me back for the ticket, I’d like to see you again, Natalie,’ he stated seriously. ‘Did such a possibility not occur to you? After all, you indicated to me on the train that you were a free agent … remember?’

      Unfortunately, she had. She’d confessed she didn’t have a boyfriend when Ludo had assumed that if she had he must be too polite to tell her that she snored in her sleep. She blushed so hard at the memory that her delicate skin felt as if she stood bare inches from a roaring fire.

      Adjusting her bag, she endeavoured to meet the steady, unwavering gaze that was so uncomfortably searing her. ‘Are you a free agent?’ she challenged. ‘For all I know you could be married with six children.’

      He tipped back his head and released a short, heartfelt laugh. Never before had the sound of a man’s amusement brushed so sensually over her nerve-endings—as though he had stroked down her bare skin with the softest, most delicate feather. Out of the blue, a powerful ache to see him again infiltrated her blood and wouldn’t be ignored … even if he did inhabit an entirely different stratosphere from her.

      ‘I can assure you that I am neither married nor the father of six children. I told you before that I’ve been far too busy for that. Don’t you believe me?’

      Ludo’s expression had become serious once more. Conscious of the now diminishing crowd leaving the train, and realising with relief that they were no longer the focus of unwanted interest, Natalie shrugged.

      ‘All I’ll say is that I hope you’re telling me the truth. Honesty is really important to me. All right, then. When do you want us to meet?’

      ‘How long do you think you’ll be in London?’

      ‘Probably a couple of days at most … that is unless my dad needs me around for longer.’ Once again she was unable to control the tremor of fear in her voice at the thought that her father might be seriously ill. To stop from dwelling on the subject, and to prevent any uncomfortable quizzing from Ludo, she smiled and added quickly, ‘I’ll just have to wait and see, won’t I?’

      ‘If you are only going to be staying in town for a couple of days, that doesn’t give us very much time. That being the case, I think we should meet up tomorrow evening, don’t you?’ There was an unexpected glint of satisfied expectation in his eyes. ‘I can book us a table at Claridges. What time would suit you best?’

      ‘The restaurant, you mean? I thought you said we were only meeting for a drink?’

      ‘Don’t you eat in the evenings?’

      ‘Of course, but—’

      ‘What time?’

      ‘Eight o’clock?’

      ‘Eight o’clock it is, then. Let me have your mobile number so I can ring you if I’m going to be delayed.’

      Her brow puckering, Natalie was thoughtful. ‘Okay, I’ll give it to you. But don’t forget it might be me who’s delayed or can’t make it if my dad isn’t well … in which case you’d better let me have your number.’

      With another one of his enigmatic smiles, Ludo acquiesced unhesitatingly.

      She’d never got used to a doorman letting her into the rather grand Victorian building where her father’s luxurious flat was situated. It made her feel like an audacious usurper pretending to be someone important.

      The contrast between how her parents lived was like night and day. Her mother was a conscientious and devoted home-maker who enjoyed the simple and natural things in life, while her father was a real hedonist who loved material things perhaps a little too much. Although undoubtedly hard-working, he had a tendency to be quite reckless with his money.

      Now, as she found herself travelling up to the topmost floor in the lift, Natalie refused to dwell on that. Instead she found herself growing more and more uneasy at what he might be going to tell her.

      When Bill Carr opened the door to greet her, straight away his appearance seemed to confirm her worst suspicions. She was shocked at how much he’d aged since she’d last seen him. It had only been three months, but the change in him was so marked it might as well have been three years. He was a tall, handsome, distinguished-looking man, with a penchant for traditionally tailored Savile Row suits, and his still abundant silver-grey hair was always impeccably cut and styled … but not today. Today it was messy and in dire need of attention. His white shirt was crumpled and unironed and his pinstriped trousers looked as if he’d slept in them.

      With alarm Natalie noticed that he carried a crystal tumbler that appeared to have a generous amount of whisky in it. The reek of alcohol when he opened his mouth to greet her confirmed it.

      ‘Natalie! Thank God you’re here, sweetheart. I was going out of my mind, thinking that you weren’t going to come.’

      He flung an arm round her and pulled her head down onto his chest. Natalie dropped her bag to the ground and did her utmost to relax. Instinct told her that whatever had made her father seek solace in strong drink must be more serious than she’d thought.

      Lifting her head she endeavoured to make her smile reassuring. ‘I’d never have let you down, Dad.’ Reaching up, she planted an affectionate kiss on his unshaven cheek as the faintest whiff of his favourite aftershave mingled with the incongruous and far less appealing smell of whisky.

      ‘Did you have a good journey?’ he asked, reaching over her shoulder to push the door shut behind her.

      ‘I did, thanks. It was really nice to travel first class, but you shouldn’t have gone to such unnecessary expense, Dad.’

      Even as she spoke Natalie couldn’t help but recall her meeting with Ludo, and the fact that he’d stumped up the money for her ticket when he’d heard her explain to the guard that she’d lost hers. His name was short for Ludovic, he’d told her. For a few seconds she lost herself in a helpless delicious reverie. The name was perfect. She really liked it … she liked it a lot. There was an air of mystery about the sound of it … a bit like its owner. They hadn’t exchanged surnames but every second of their time together on the train was indelibly imprinted on her mind, never to be forgotten. Particularly his cultured, sexy voice and those extraordinarily beautiful sapphire-blue eyes of his. Her heart jumped when she nervously recalled her agreement to meet him for dinner tomorrow …

      ‘I’ve always wanted to give you the best of everything, sweetheart … and that didn’t change when your mother and I split up. Is she well, by the way?’

      Her father’s curiously intense expression catapulted her back to the present, and