His Marriage Ultimatum. HELEN BROOKS

and I meant dinner,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve never yet bought a woman, Miss Fox. Surprising as it clearly appears to you, I haven’t had to.’

      She could believe that. And she knew immediately she had made another huge mistake. Liberty groaned inwardly. ‘I’m sorry.’ She held his razor-sharp gaze even though she felt like bolting back into the cloakroom. ‘I had no right to assume…It’s just that most men…’ She didn’t know how to continue.

      ‘Take advantage of any opportunity to get to know a woman as lovely as you?’ A brief smile touched his lips and then disappeared. ‘I will plead guilty to that but not the rest. I am not “most men” as you’ll find out.’

      Over her dead body. She wasn’t having anything to do with this man. He was dangerous. In fact, he made poor little Gerard look like a schoolboy in the seduction techniques.

      Liberty forced a smile. ‘My father’s waiting; I have to go,’ she said quickly. ‘But I will phone and arrange for things to be sorted out.’

      ‘When?’ It was immediate, his eyes narrowing.

      ‘What?’ The nerve of the man, to try to tie her down like this!

      ‘When will you phone?’ he persisted silkily.

      She had to get a handle on this, bring it back into the normal sphere of things. She called on all her training to keep cool and objective, or at least to give the appearance of being so. ‘Within the next twenty-four hours or so,’ she said evenly, refusing to be drawn further. ‘Now, as I said, my father is waiting, so if you’ll excuse me.’

      ‘There’s no rush; it isn’t as if he is sitting there alone. Is that your mother with him?’ For the first time since his teens Carter found himself trying to make conversation with a woman who clearly wanted shot of him. It astounded him. He half-expected her to tell him to mind his own business or to go to hell, but she did neither, merely staring at him with big brown eyes. Brown eyes as soft and velvety as a doe at bay.

      ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘She is not my mother.’

      His lips twitched. Polite but firm, even though every line and curve of her body suggested she would rather be anywhere else than here. He ignored the screaming body language, saying quietly, ‘I didn’t think so. I couldn’t see any resemblance between you.’

      Liberty shrugged. ‘There’s none between my mother and I, as it happens. She’s a small, blue-eyed blonde.’

      Now it was Carter who stared. He had sensed something when she had spoken of her mother—very definite vibes and none of them good. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t ring him, after all; the last thing he needed right now was to get mixed up with a woman who came with baggage. He liked his relationships with women to emulate the way he viewed acquiring and disposing of a car—they needed to be good together while it lasted but once the parting of the ways came it was all straightforward. So it was with some surprise he heard himself say, ‘I’ll escort you back to your table.’

      ‘No need.’ Liberty was determined the last thing she was going to do was introduce him to her father and Joan. ‘Your dinner companion might get the wrong idea.’

      ‘Carmen? Oh no, Carmen and I understand each other very well,’ he said nonchalantly.

      Funny, but she didn’t doubt that for a minute!

      Liberty wasn’t aware her face was revealing her thoughts until the big body bent closer. ‘Carmen and I are just good friends, Liberty,’ he said pleasantly, but with a touch of steel in his voice which indicated he hadn’t appreciated her supposition. ‘If there was anything else between us I wouldn’t have suggested taking you to dinner. I’ve never pretended to be a hearth and home guy, but one woman at a time is more than enough for me. Okay?’ Dark eyebrows rose mockingly.

      She felt furious that he had somehow put her in the wrong. He had walked in with that woman draped all over him like poison ivy and now he was blaming her for putting two and two together and making five. She tilted her head back and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Your association with Miss Lapotiaze, or anyone else for that matter, is absolutely nothing to do with me,’ she said clearly. ‘Goodnight, Mr Blake.’ And she left him before he had a chance to react, walking as swiftly as her inordinately high heels would allow into the heart of the nightclub.

      She had half-expected him to follow her or to try to catch hold of her again, but she reached the others without incident—apart from almost going headlong across the table as her heel caught in the hem of her dress at the last moment.

      Her father and Joan smiled at her with the guilty look of two people who had just been whispering sweet nothings, and she smiled brightly back, wondering how soon she could make her excuses and leave. Why had she allowed Carter to get under her skin like that? she asked herself as she sipped at her coffee. No other man had ever affected her in such a way. Not that there had been many men in her past.

      The coffee was burning her throat but she barely felt it, her whole body tuned as tight as piano wire. She had had plenty of dates before Gerard, of course, but she had always kept things casual, and even Gerard hadn’t actually broken her heart. Bruised it maybe, and crushed her pride into the ground, but she couldn’t in all honesty say she was devastated beyond measure by his betrayal.

      Her eyes opened wide as the knowledge dawned that she was well and truly over him and it had only taken a matter of weeks. Was that awful? She considered the matter and then decided she didn’t care if it was. She was just so thankful she hadn’t gone the whole hog and slept with him as he had been nagging at her to do for the last couple of months of their relationship. She would have hated to be another notch on his worn-away bedpost. When, or maybe that should be if, she gave herself to a man she at least wanted it to mean something for both of them.

      When she made her move to leave, her father insisted on coming with her to the entrance of the nightclub and standing with her while the doorman hailed her a cab. ‘Thanks for being so nice to Joan.’ He hugged her as he spoke, his voice thick. ‘Do you think it would be rushing it if I asked her to marry me soon? And I mean real soon,’ he added somewhat bashfully.

      ‘After twenty odd years?’ Liberty reached up and patted his face, her touch gentle. ‘Go for it, Dad, if you’re sure.’

      ‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.’

      ‘Then ask her. Life’s too short to dilly-dally.’

      ‘You’d come to the ceremony? It’ll only be a register office do, I suppose, but I’d like you there,’ he said urgently.

      ‘You try and keep me away,’ said Liberty as the black cab pulled up in front of them. ‘Now, go back to her and I’ll give you a ring in the morning. And thanks for a lovely evening.’

      He stood and waved her off as he had done on countless occasions in the past, but this time they both knew it was different. The cab got held up at the traffic lights, and as Liberty turned and looked through the back window she saw him bound back into the club like a twenty-year-old.

      She smiled to herself, glad for him and for Joan too, but somehow their delight in each other had made her restless. Or was it something else, someone else, who had caused her to feel all at odds with the world tonight? She frowned, loath to admit Carter Blake could have such an influence on her when she had only met him a few hours ago.

      It wasn’t him, she had decided firmly by the time the cab had deposited her home. It was the whole day—seeing her mother, the accident, the awful afternoon at work and then encountering Carter again on an evening when her emotions had been running high anyway. A good night’s sleep and everything would be back in perspective again. Anything else was just not an option.

      CHAPTER THREE

      LIBERTY rang Carter Blake at nine o’clock the next evening. She figured that was late enough to suggest she hadn’t been champing at the bit, even though the wretched man had been at the forefront of her mind all day. She couldn’t remember an occasion