Walking in Darkness

He didn’t let go of her hand immediately; his skin was warm and firm. She liked the feel of that strength and confidence.

‘Mind you, there are some spots in the States that I would feel lost in,’ he said. ‘I’m a New Englander, we’re a different breed. We never forget that we were here first, apart from the Indian nations. You must visit my part of the country. Having spent time in England, you’ll recognise something familiar. Our first towns were built by people from over there; the names, the architecture, the traditions are all very English.’

‘It sounds lovely.’ She pulled her hand out of his grip. ‘Do your family still live there?’

‘Certainly do – nothing would get my mother to leave the place, and Dad always lets her have her own way about the home and everything to do with it. Mind you, he has never shown signs of wanting to leave, although if he had got

into Congress he would have had to move to Washington, of course, but she would have gone along with him in that case.’

‘She’s interested in politics too?’

‘No, it’s just that they both have old-fashioned ideas about the way marriage should work.’

Soberly Sophie said, ‘If you get married you have to be together, don’t you? You couldn’t live in different places and expect marriage to work.’

He nodded. ‘I think so, yes. Long-distance marriage is a recipe for disaster. It seems we agree on something! That’s a start.’

Warily she asked, ‘A start on what?’

With bland amusement he told her, ‘Getting to know each other.’ He looked at his watch again. ‘Well, I have to get going. While I’m gone, stay here, don’t go out, ring anybody, do anything. You’ll be safe so long as you stay here – and don’t open the door until you’ve had a good look through the spy hole.’

She burst out then, ‘They wouldn’t dare . . . in a public place like a hotel!’

But they had dared attack her in a subway, which was just as public, hadn’t they?

‘Who wouldn’t?’ Steve asked very softly and she shot him a quick, tense look. Just how much did he know? How involved with Don Gowrie was he? What did she know about this man, anyway? For all she knew it could have been him behind her in the subway station, his hand that had thrust her to the edge of the platform.

No, she couldn’t believe that. He wasn’t the type to kill. I’m getting paranoid, she thought – seeing dark shadows behind every face, hearing double meanings in everything anyone says to me.

At that instant there was a loud crash somewhere down the corridor and Sophie jumped about a foot in the air, gasping in fear.

‘OK, OK, it’s just the maids pushing a linen cart through some swing doors, I’ve heard them do it before,’ Steve quickly said, but she couldn’t stop shaking. He put his arm round her and pulled her close. ‘Your nerves are shot to hell, aren’t they?’ he said, just above her head, one hand stroking her smooth, silky hair. He grew deeply conscious of the body he held, and his own body stirred with arousal, heat burned under his skin.

Sophie felt it, taken aback to pick up the tension of his muscles, the beating awareness inside him, and even more disturbed by an answering heat deep inside herself.

Alarmed, she pulled away, relieved when he let go of her at once and stepped back, his face flushed, his eyes restless, picked up the hotel telephone book and scribbled a number on top of it.

Without looking at her now he said, ‘If you need me urgently you’ll get me at this number – network headquarters. Ask for extension 650. My secretary will know where to find me in a hurry.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Now I really must get moving. I can’t be late for this meeting.’

At the door he gave her one swift backwards glance from those grey eyes. ‘Come and put the chain on! And remember, don’t open the door until you’ve checked out who’s outside!’ Then the door closed and he was gone, leaving her wishing he would come back, because in going he left her alone, and she was afraid of being alone.

Oh, don’t be so pathetic! she told herself as she obediently crossed to the door to slip the chain through. Only a few minutes ago she had been bothered by having him touch her hair, hold her, because she couldn’t cope with the way he made her feel. Now she didn’t want him to go. Why couldn’t she make up her mind?

She was still suspicious of him, he was far too quick to ask questions, probe, watch her every move – but the more she got to know him the more she wished she could trust him enough to confide in him. She couldn’t, though. If he was being kind and sympathetic it was only because he wanted to get her to open up to him. But her natural instinct was still, disturbingly, to trust him and like him. Listening to him talking about his home and family had made her envy him. He must have had a happy childhood.

She walked back and sat down on the bed, staring around the impersonal hotel room; comfortable, pastel-painted in pale peach, with a warmer shade of apricot for curtains and bedcovers, an even darker shade for the carpet and a matching set of four rose prints, one on each wall. It could be any room anywhere in any hotel in the Western world, and normally she would have dismissed it as boring, but the very impersonality was somehow comforting at this moment.

As his secretary came into the suite, Don Gowrie was speed-reading a thick wad of documents, wintry sunlight glinting on his silver-flecked hair. Glancing up over the edge of his gold-rimmed spectacles, he smiled at her.

‘Fascinating stuff, this, Miss Sanderson, especially the private backgrounds of all the British politicians I’ll be meeting. I hope I shall remember it all.’

‘Don’t worry, sir, I’ll be there to remind you of anything you forget.’

‘I know you will. I rely on it.’ There was a touch of glibness in his immediate response. That was what he always said and it had once been true, he had trusted her completely, but lately he was having to be careful what he said to her. He was holding back, hiding some of his thoughts; there were some things he could not risk saying to her now. To anyone, he thought, his eyes bleak. A month ago he had thought he was a happy man; he had everything, well, almost everything, he wanted in life, including ambition, an excitement at the thought of how much higher he might climb.

Now his entire life was balanced on a knife-edge, and all because of one woman. Rage surged through him. He swallowed it, controlling himself. He must keep calm.