A Treacherous Seduction. PENNY JORDAN

all of them, to some extent, had been living off their wits, using their skills as linguists, charming a living out of gullible tourists. In Beth’s newly cynical opinion they’d been only one step removed from the high-pressure-sales types hawking time-share apartments, who had made certain holiday areas of the continent notorious until their governments had taken steps to control their activities.

      True, Alex Andrews had alluded to the very different lifestyle he claimed to lead in Britain. According to his own description of himself he was a university lecturer in Modern History at a prestigious university college who was taking a sabbatical to spend some time with the Czech side of his family, but Beth hadn’t believed him. Why should she have? Julian Cox had claimed to have a highly profitable and respectable financial empire—he had turned out to be little more than a fraudster who had somehow managed to keep himself one step in front of actually breaking the law. It had been plain to Beth from the first moment she had met him that Alex Andrews was very much the same type.

      Too good-looking, too self-confident…too sure that she’d been going to fall into his arms just because he claimed he was desperate to have her there. She wasn’t that much of a fool. She might have fallen for that kind of line once, but she certainly hadn’t been about to fall for it a second time.

      Oh, yes, she had escaped making a fool of herself over Alex Andrews, but she hadn’t been able to prevent herself from…

      Numbly Beth studied the stemware she had unpacked. There was a sick, shaky feeling in her stomach, a sensation of mingled panic and dread. It had to be a mistake…It had to be.

      She simply couldn’t face telling Dee, Anna and Kelly that she had made a spectacularly bad error of judgement—again.

      And she certainly couldn’t face telling her bank manager. She had really gone out on a limb with the loan she had persuaded him to give her—and she it.

      Anxiously she got to her feet. The first thing she needed to do was to ring the factory.

      She was just about to dial the number on her invoice when the telephone rang. Picking up the receiver, she heard her partner Kelly’s voice.

      ‘Beth, you’re going to hate me for this…’ Kelly paused. ‘Brough is having to go to Singapore on business and he wants me to go with him. It could mean us being away for over a month—he says that since we would be almost halfway there anyway we might as well also fly on to Australia and spend a couple of weeks with my cousin and her family.

      ‘I know what you must be thinking. We’re coming up for our busiest time and I’ve only been working a couple of days a week lately anyway. If you’d rather I didn’t go I’ll understand…After all, the business…’

      Beth thought quickly. It was true that she would find it hard to manage for what sounded as though it was going to be close on five or six weeks without her partner, but if Kelly was away then at least it meant that Beth wouldn’t have to tell her about the stemware. Cravenly Beth admitted to herself that, given the opportunity to do so, she would much rather sort out everything discreetly and privately without involving anyone else—even if that meant getting someone in part-time to help with the shop whilst Kelly was away.

      ‘Beth? Are you still there?’ she heard Kelly asking her anxiously.

      ‘Yes. Yes, I’m here,’ Beth confirmed.

      Taking a deep breath, she told her friend and partner as cheerfully as she could, ‘Of course you must go, Kelly. It would be silly to miss out on that kind of opportunity.’

      ‘Mmm…and I would miss Brough dreadfully. But I do feel guilty about leaving you, Beth, especially at this time of the year. I know how busy you’re going to be, what with the new stemware…Oh…did it arrive? Is it as wonderful as you remembered? Perhaps I could come down…?’

      ‘No. No…there’s no need for that,’ Beth assured her quickly.

      ‘Well, if you really don’t mind,’ Kelly said gratefully. ‘Brough did say that we could drive over to Farrow today. I’ve been given the address of someone who works there who makes the most wonderful traditional hand-crafted furniture. He’s got one of those purpose-built workshops in the Old Hall Stables there. It’s been turned into a small craft village. But if you need me at the shop…’

      ‘No. I’m fine,’ Beth assured her.

      ‘When are you putting the new stemware stuff out?’ Kelly asked enthusiastically. ‘I’m dying to see it…’

      Beth tensed.

      ‘Er…I haven’t decided yet…’

      ‘Oh. I thought you said you were going to do it as soon as it arrived,’ Kelly protested, plainly confused.

      ‘Yes. I was. But…but I want to get a few more ideas yet; we’ve still got nearly a fortnight before the town’s Christmas lights and decorations are in place, and I thought it would be a good idea to time the window to fit in with that…’

      ‘Oh, yes, that’s a wonderful idea,’ Kelly enthused. ‘We could even have a small wine and nibbles do for our customers…perhaps have the food and the drinks the same colour as the glass…’

      ‘Er…yes. Yes…that would be wonderful,’ Beth agreed, hoping that her voice didn’t sound as lacking in enthusiasm to her friend as it did to herself.

      ‘Oh, but I’ve just realised; we’ll be leaving at the end of the week so I shall miss it,’ Kelly complained. ‘Still, we’ll definitely be back for Christmas; that’s something I have insisted on to Brough, and fortunately he agrees with me that our first Christmas should be spent here at home…together…Which reminds me. Please save me a set of those wonderful glasses, Beth.’

      ‘Er, yes, I shall,’ Beth confirmed.

      With luck, she would be able to get the mistake in her order reversed and the correct stemware sent out to her whilst Kelly was away. Whilst Kelly was away, yes, but would she get it in time for the all-important Christmas market? When selecting the pieces for her order she had deliberately focused on the colours she deemed to be the most saleable for the Christmas season; deep red, rich blue, fir-tree green, all in the lavishly baroque style and decorated with gold leaf. Beautiful though the pieces were, she doubted that they would have the same sales appeal in the spring and summer months.

      

      One hour and five unanswered telephone calls after she had finished speaking with Kelly, Beth sat back on her heels and stared helplessly around her chaotic storeroom.

      The horror and the anger she had initially felt at having received the wrong order were giving way even more to frantic unease and suspicion.

      The factory she had visited had been a large one, and the sales director she had spoken with suave and business-suited. The cabinets which had lined the walls of his plush office had been filled with the almost mouth-wateringly beautiful stemware from which he had invited Beth to take her choice for her order.

      His secretary’s office, which she had glimpsed through an open door as he had escorted her from the reception foyer and into his own office, had been crammed with the most up-to-the-minute modern technology, and it was just not feasible that such an organisation would not, during office hours, have its telephone system fully manned and its faxes working.

      But every time Beth had punched the numbers into her own telephone she had been met with a blank silence, an emptiness humming along the wire. Even if the factory had been closed for the Czech Republic version of a Bank Holiday, the telephone would still have rung.

      The most horrible suspicion, the most awful possibility, was beginning to edge its way into Beth’s thoughts.

      ‘Don’t be taken in by what you’ve been shown,’ Alex Andrews had warned her. ‘Some gypsies are thought to be used as pawns in organised crime. Their aim is to sell non-existent goods to gullible foreign tourists in order to bring into the organisation foreign currency.’

      ‘I don’t believe you. You’re just