The Millionaire's Baby

'No.' Katie sat down heavily at the kitchen table. 'There's an opened bottle of wine in the fridge. Let's have that, shall we?'

'Why not?' As Caro found glasses and poured out the chilled Spatlese she pondered on the best approach to use. Reminding her sister, now happily looking for­ward to marriage with David Parker, that two years ago she had tried to kill herself for love of Finn Helliar was a bit of a facer. The wine might help smooth over a few awkward moments.

She wouldn't have mentioned Finn's name but she needed to know Katie was well and truly over him, not still pining in the secret places of her heart for the man she had loved and lost. Only then could she her­self begin the process of forgetting him and the strangely ambiguous relationship they had.

'How did you know he was up at the house with Gran?' Katie asked in a careful little voice. 'You don't know him, do you?'

'I've had dealings with him through the agency,' Caro answered, just as carefully. It seemed the easiest way to put it. No need to mention her bungled role as avenging angel just yet, perhaps not ever. 'So yes, I can safely say I know the guy.'

Katie put her glass down on the table and cleared her throat. 'In that case— Listen, Caro, this isn't go­ing to be easy for me, but—' Her eyes were over-bright, her lips shaking, pressed tightly together. 'I made a huge fool of myself,' she muttered. 'I thought I was in love with him at one time. And I really did think he cared for me.'

She was describing circles on the top of the table with the tip of her index finger, her voice so low Caro had to strain to hear her reply when she asked, 'Where did you meet him? You never told me. I wouldn't have thought you moved in the same circles.'

'We don't. Didn't. It was at Gran's birthday party. Her eightieth. You couldn't make it because you came down with flu. Remember? Finn got roped in because he'd come down about Gran's investments and stuff. I got this monumental crush on him and I suspect I made a nuisance of myself. And he was kind, and I mistook it for something else and—'

'He was kind?' Caro interrupted. 'You mean he didn't actually seduce you?'

'No!' Deep colour flooded Katie's face again. 'Did I give you that impression? I must have done. To be truthful, I don't remember him ever touching me.'

Speechless, Caro stared into her sister's pink face. She still looked breathtakingly sweet, young for her years, but the wide, childish innocence of her eyes had been replaced by something more adult, stronger, tougher. She had, Caro suspected, finally grown up.

'The torn blouse,' Caro reminded her. 'Did it tear itself, or did you mistake that for something else?'

She would never have been able to talk to the pre-Dave Katie like that, not if she'd wanted to avoid floods of tears and whole days of hurt silence. It was a measure of her sister's new maturity that she was able, after searching through her memory banks, to offer, 'Grief! You thought he'd torn it off me! I got mugged. Look, I'd better start at the beginning.' She finished the wine in her glass and helped herself to some more. 'Gran's party. All those wrinklies, moan­ing about their ailments. Nobody talked to me. Mum was helping Mrs F and Polly with the food. I tried to help, for something to do, but I just got in the way. And Finn was there, like I said, trying not to look bored to death. I thought he was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen. And he actually spent time with me, talked to me, admired the floral decorations I'd done and s

aid I could, if I wanted, do it professionally. He really made me feel special, as if I had something to offer.'

Caro could understand that. He had the knack of making a girl feel very special indeed. Add to that Katie's desperately low self-esteem—deepened by Gran's continual carping—and the way she'd always seemed to inhabit a dream world of her own making, and everything began to make sense of a kind.

'He said that I had a talent and should use it, and mentioned that there were plenty of hostesses in London and the Home Counties who paid the earth for someone to provide floral decorations for their dinner parties; so, well, I went up to London a time or two and dropped by his offices and asked his ad­vice about setting up in that kind of business on my own—'

'Were you serious about that?'

'Of course not!' Katie raked her fingers through her hair. 'Oh, I dare say I thought I was at the time. But it was just an excuse to be with him, to get his atten­tion. And he was good at that—giving me attention. He'd take me to lunch and give me all sorts of what was probably extremely sound advice—none of which I took.

'I just wanted to talk about it because it gave me the excuse to be near him. Then came the last time we met. I arrived at his office, uninvited, needless to say, and he saw me briefly and told me he'd given me all the advice he could. I was shattered. Oh, he was very nice about it but it didn't make any differ­ence. I was still shattered! Instead of a cosy lunch with the man I loved, with him giving me one hun­dred per cent of his attention, I was back on the street, on my own, and to cap it all I got mugged!'

Too cross to sit still and listen to any more of this, and frankly appalled, Caro jumped up and tugged the chintzy curtains across the window. It was getting dark outside now and the lights from the big house could be seen glimmering faintly through a belt of trees.

Finn Helliar could very well be behind one of those lit windows. She couldn't bear to be reminded of him—of the things she'd said to him, the dreadful things she'd accused him of. Of the way he'd kissed her and the way she'd responded... Of the way things might have worked out if only...

Oblivious of all that simmering rage, Katie was saying penitently, 'Naturally, I ran straight back to Finn. His secretary got him out of a meeting, and naturally—though I didn't see it that way then—he took me back to his flat and asked his secretary to buy a blouse to replace my ripped one and bring it round.'

She was twisting her hands together in her lap, her eyes embarrassed, avoiding Caro's. 'I honestly thought he'd taken me to his home rather than sort me out back at the office because I was special to him. God, I was too naive to be true! When I think back to it now I loathe myself! I wouldn't let him call the police—my handbag had been stolen but there was nothing much in it, just my fare home and bits and bobs of make-up. And then I got hysterical when he told me he'd phone Mum and get her to drive in and fetch me home.

'I really lost it then. I didn't want to be fetched anywhere—I wanted to stay there with him. And told him so, told him I loved him and hurled myself at him. He was quite probably horrified.'

'I can imagine,' Caro said through her teeth.

She loomed over her sister. She couldn't bring her­self to sit down at the table with her right now. 'You didn't try to drown yourself, did you? What you said led me to believe you did and you let me go on think­ing it.'

'I'm sorry,' Katie muttered miserably. 'Looking back, it all seems so stupid. That day, the day I got mugged, Finn put me in a cab and sent me home. Mum was out. I got changed and went out, walking aimlessly, and ended up at the lake, of all places. It was evening by then—dusk. Dave came out of the woods, on the track. He was walking his dogs. He called out to me—just "Hi there", you know—but I turned away quickly. I didn't want him to see I'd been crying. I lost my footing and fell in. I felt so stupid. And when you thought I'd done it deliberately, well—' she pulled in a huge, anguished breath '—it seemed more, well, romantic, and—'

'Don't say anything more,' Caro bit out. 'I'm going to bed. I might be able to bring myself to exchange a civil word with you in the morning. There again, I might not.'

The way she was feeling right now, she never wanted to have to speak to her sister again!

CHAPTER TWELVE