Millionaire's Woman

‘It’s quite an adjustment,’ she admitted. ‘But I grew up here, so I don’t feel totally alien. And I’ve been so busy with my new job and setting my house to rights I haven’t had time to miss my old life. Friends and colleagues, yes, but not the hours I put in, or the endless meetings.’

‘I’m with you there,’ he said with feeling.‘ Until recently I worked in a City law practice.’

‘What brought you back here?’

His face shadowed. ‘My father’s health began to deteriorate. I left London to lighten his load in the family firm.’

‘Of course.’ Kate clicked her fingers. ‘That’s why the name rang a bell—your father was my aunt’s solicitor. He’s been very helpful to me.’

‘Great man, my dad.’ He smiled at her. ‘So, Miss Durant, you and I have something in common; we’re both newly returned to the fold.’

‘Has settling back here been hard for you?’

He sobered abruptly. ‘Afraid so. My wife didn’t settle back with me.’

‘Oh.’ Kate smiled in quick sympathy. ‘I’m sorry.’

He nodded. ‘Me too. I felt very strongly about joining my father but Caroline felt equally so about keeping her job in London. So now we’re a statistic; one more marriage heading for the rocks.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Sorry! That was more than you wanted to know.’

He was right there, thought Kate with a pang of guilt. Years ago she had refused to stay here with Jack for a not too different reason. She thrust the memory away and smiled warmly at Richard.

‘Can I tempt you to more pudding?’

‘No, thanks,’ he said hastily, and took her empty plate. ‘My turn. I’ll fetch coffee.’

Kate moved behind a concealing fern, glad of a moment alone to get herself together. Just seeing Jack Logan again had been shock enough, but the news that he’d been divorced for years was shattering. No surprise in some ways; straight, attractive men of Jack’s age—and Richard Forster’s—were rarely just plain single. But Richard was clearly still affected by his break-up, while she doubted very much that Jack’s recovery had taken long. Her eyes kindled. Lord knew it had taken him no time at all to find someone else after she’d left for London. Whereas she’d taken years to get over Jack Logan. She gazed out over the moonlit garden with nostalgia. She’d been so young and so madly in love…She tensed, the hairs standing up on her neck when a voice spoke in her ear.

‘Why are you hiding in here?’

She felt Jack’s breath, warm on her skin, and turned sharply. ‘Waiting for my coffee to arrive.’ She looked past him, smiling brightly as Richard joined them.

‘I was told you like yours black and sweet, Kate,’ he informed her, handing her a cup. ‘Can I bring some for you, Logan?’

‘Good of you, but no thanks, I’m leaving,’ said Jack. ‘I just came to say goodnight.’

‘Goodbye, then. So nice to see you again,’ Kate said politely.

Jack nodded to them both and strolled off to find his hostess. Kate stared after his tall,commanding figure for a moment then turned to Richard with a smile. ‘Jack and I were friends a long time ago.’

‘So I gather,’ he said wryly, well aware that there’d been a lot more than just friendship between them. And Jack Logan still wanted it.

Jack could have confirmed this. After leaving the party he’d felt a crazy impulse to head for Park Crescent to wait for Kate. But common sense warned that a brandy before bed was a better idea than hanging about outside her house in the small hours only to find that someone else had brought her home—Forster, probably. Or she could be staying the night with the Maitlands. His mouth twisted in sudden derision. It was unlikely she’d have fallen into his arms if he had lain in wait for her. But his body’s reaction to even the thought of it made it plain that he still wanted her. He always had, from the moment he’d first set eyes on her.

Kate had been standing on the steps of the Guildhall, selling poppies for Remembrance Day. She’d accosted him with a smile, rattling her tin when he parked near her pitch. He’d bought the biggest poppy on her tray and on impulse presented it to her with a bow, and she’d blushed. Jack had never seen a girl blush so vividly before. He’d stared, fascinated by the tide of colour, but more people came up to buy poppies, he was late for an appointment, and when he returned to his car later she’d gone.

Back in the cold, dark present Jack Logan pressed a remote control and drove through tall iron gates along a winding drive to the stables he’d converted to a garage when he’d first started developing the property. At that turning point in his life, with a broken engagement, a hasty marriage and even hastier divorce under his belt, he’d made a conscious decision to steer clear of close relationships with women in future. From that day forward all his passions would be channelled into expanding the family building firm.

When he first bought the Mill House property his original plan had been to get rid of the house itself and use the land for one of the mixed housing projects that were rapidly winning Logan Development a respected name. But the almost derelict house, sleeping at the centre of wild overgrown grounds, cast such a spell on him he couldn’t bring himself to demolish it. Instead he put the property on the back burner and concentrated on more pressing projects. When he eventually turned his attention to Mill House he’d planned to make it into a show house as an advertisement for the company’s restoration skills before putting it up for sale. But the process of converting a virtual ruin into a dreamhouse backfired on him. While the house was slowly, carefully restored, and the land around it tamed and nurtured, he’d looked from tall windows at a seductive veview of mill pond and chestnut trees and felt a sense of possession almost as fierce as the emotion once experienced for Kate. When the work was completed Mill House was so much his own creation it was impossible to let someone else live there.

Jack unlocked the boot room at the back of the house and bent to pat the black retriever who came rushing in exuberant welcome to meet him. He let Bran out into the garden for a quick run and stood at the door, eyes absent on the moon’s reflection in the water. After a few minutes he whistled and the dog shot back inside, getting underfoot in the kitchen as Jack made coffee in preference to fetching the brandy decanter. He sat down at the table to drink it and scratched Bran’s ears, his smile wry as he looked down into the adoring eyes. Canine love was a lot easier to deal with than the human variety.

In bed later Jack gave up any pretence of trying to sleep. Normally he never allowed himself to dwell on the past, but one look at Kate tonight had opened a mental door that refused to slam shut.

Logan and Son had already won recognition as the town’s premier building contractor when Jack’s father sent him to make an estimate for a house extension. While Jack was making notes of the owner’s requirements the kitchen door burst open and Kate had come running in, slender and coltish in T-shirt and jeans, bright hair flying.

She’d stopped dead at the sight of the visitor, colour high. ‘Oh—sorry. Didn’t know we had visitors.’

‘It’s all right, dear,’ said Robert Sutton, and introduced the girl as his sister-in-law, Katherine Durant.