It was dark by the time she got back to the hotel, and the shop windows along the rue du Faubourg-St-Honore glittered invitingly, each more opulently chic than the last. Kate slowed her steps as she passed, oblivious to the crowds hurrying past her on their way home, her French blood approving the sheer sophistication and style of the displays.
There was no sign of Luke as she collected her key at reception and made her way to her room, but hardly had she put the key in the lock than Luke's door opened, so abruptly that she could almost have suspected that he had been listening out for her.
`About time you turned up! What have you been doing all this time?' he demanded, putting paid to any hope that he might have calmed down enough to apologise.
`Shopping,' Kate said shortly.
`How like a woman! One night away from home, and she has to go to the shops.' Luke glowered and ran his hand through his dark hair. He had evidently been working. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up and his loosened tie hung untidily. `I hope you're going to be ready in time.'
Kate clenched her teeth. `Have I ever been late for anything?'
`No, but there's no telling what you might do in the mood you're in!'
`I am not in a mood!'
Unexpectedly Luke grinned. `Oh, yes, you are! I can always tell when you're angry. Those quiet brown eyes of yours fleck with gold and your chin comes up-just the way it is now.'
Kate decided that that wasn't worth answering. `I shall be ready on time, just as I always am,' she said coldly. `What time would you like to leave?'
'We arranged to meet them at the restaurant, didn't we? We'd better make sure we're there first. I'll give you a knock at seven-or won't that be enough time for you to get ready?'
There was a malicious glint in his eyes and, although Kate knew that she would have to hurry quite unnecessarily, she would have died rather than ask him to give her a few more minutes.
`Seven o'clock will be fine.'
Kate showered quickly and then sat down in front of the mirror in a towelling robe, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She had been lured to one of the cosmetic counters in the department store, where an immaculately made-up girl had shown her how to transform herself into a woman so sophisticated and alluring that she was almost unrecognisable.
It was as well she still had her French chequebook, Kate thought as she laid the collection of eye-shadows, blushers, foundation and mascara out in front of her. It had been an expensive whim, and it wasn't as if the cosmetics had been her only expense!
She almost lost her nerve when she sat back and looked at the final effect. Her eyes looked huge and sultry, her mouth provocative with its bold outline of red lipstick. The blushers and highlighters had been used more subtly, but no less effectively.
She looked stunning.
She would never be able to carry it off, Kate realised in panic, but it was ten to seven, and there was no time to take it all off and start again. Hurriedly drying her hair, she stepped into the dress she had bought and smoothed it down in front of the mirror.
She had never worn a dress like it. It was black, with short sleeves and a plain round collar that somehow made the slash at the cleavage all the more dramatic. Kate leant forward experimentally and winced. It hadn't seemed quite that revealing in the shop. She would have to sit bolt upright all evening!
Kate studied her reflection with a sense of shock. The dress stopped just above her knees, and the high-heeled shoes merely emphasised the length of her slim legs. She had never looked like this before, with that bright challenging look in her eyes and the wanton provocation of face and figure.
There was a sharp rap on the door and Luke's voice called, `Ready?' impatiently.
A small smile curved Kate's mouth as her doubts suddenly disappeared. Even if Luke sacked her, he would remember her this time!
She picked up her bag and jacket and opened the door just as Luke raised his hand to knock again.
For a long moment he just stared at her, and then his hand fell slowly to his side.
`I'm ready,' said Kate brightly, stepping past him and pulling the door closed behind her.
Luke's eyes dropped to her legs, and then travelled accusingly upwards to her face. `I didn't buy you that dress!'
`This old thing? No, I brought it with me. I thought it might come in handy.'
`Did you, indeed?' he said grimly. `And what about all those clothes I bought you?'
'They're very nice, of course, but I'm allowed to wear some of my own clothes, surely?'
`I'd have preferred it if you'd worn something a little more… suitable. This is a business dinner we're going to, not a nightclub. Perhaps you could remember that?' Luke's face was a mask of disapproval. This was the man who must have seen Helen in far more risqué outfits!
Kate was unrepentant. She felt heady with a sense of her own power tonight. `Don't be so stuffy, Luke. No one could possibly object to a black dress for dinner.'
`It depends on how you wear it! And why are you all made up like that?' Luke asked grumpily 3.s they walked down to the lift. `I suppose all this effort is for Xavier's benefit? Don't tell him you've fallen for that pseudo-French charm!'
'I'm half-French myself-remember?-and I can assure you that there's nothing pseudo whatsoever about his charm,' Kate said sweetly, mowing it would annoy him. `You could learn a lot from him!'
The lift doors whispered open and she swept inside, followed by a scowling Luke. The lift was lined with mirrors and their reflections multiplied around them. Kate risked a peek at Luke. He looked dark and dangerous in his formal suit.
He glanced at her and she looked quickly away, tilting her chin unconsciously.
`I must say, this is a new side to you, Kate,' he said. `I'd never expected you were the kind of girl to own a dress like that.'
`There's a lot you don't know about me.'
`So it seems. How often do you wear it?'
'Oh, quite a lot.'
`Seems funny that you haven't got round to taking off the price tag, in that case,' Luke said sardonically, reaching over to pull the tag out of the neckline behind her.
The nape of her neck shivered where his fingers brushed against it, and colour stained her cheeks as she pulled herself away to tear off the tag resentfully. If he had given her a little more time she would have noticed it herself.
On Xavier's recommendation, she had booked a restaurant in the rue de Buci, a narrow street on the Left Bank. It was already crowded when they arrived, the waiters with their long white aprons threading their way skilfully between the tables.
Kate was in a feisty mood, and kept up a flow of gay conversation while they waited for Philippe and Xavier to arrive, in spite of a distinct lack of encouragement from Luke. When they appeared she greeted them warmly, and was gratified by their admiring attention.
Business was soon disposed of and the discussion became more general. Kate sparkled and flirted outrageously with Xavier while she watched Luke out of the corner of her eyes. He was making a heroic effort to look as if he was enjoying himself, but a muscle worked steadily in his jaw.
Later she could remember little about the meal. She remembered Xavier's caressing eyes resting on her cleavage as she leant forward to pick up her glass, and Philippe's aloof face, warm with amusement. There was a moment of strange lucidity when she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, and she remembered thinking that it was like looking at a stranger with flushed cheeks, reckless glittering eyes and over-bright smile. There must be more of her mother in her than she had thought!
She remembered Luke, too. His hands gesturing as he talked to Philippe. The swift smile that didn't include her. The angle of his head as he spoke to the waiter. And once, when she looked up, she found herself staring straight into his implacable slate-hard eyes, unable to look away until he turned away indifferently, leaving her to gulp at her wine and feel suddenly hot.