Free Sweet Surrender by Catherine George Page B

sheer physical difficulty of making love in his Maserati had prevented him from trying to take things a lot further during the episode in the layby. Which meant that he might expect more than that in more favourable circumstances.
    It was not a thought that worried her. She liked Alasdair’s lovemaking. Liked it all the more in some perverse way because it was easier to enjoy now that she was no longer crazy about him. But, astonishingly passionate though he’d been the other night, she was sure that the slightest hint of protest from her would havebeen enough to call a halt, even if they’d been somewhere more private. Like his house in Gloucester. A prospect she rather fancied, if only out of curiosity to see where he lived.
    Thoughts of Alasdair’s home led her to wondering about Jack Spencer’s. His house was in bad repair, by the sound of it, if it needed doing up. But in his line of business no doubt he’d bought it for a song, relying on his own skill to save him expensive labour costs.
    When she got to Pennington Kate found Alasdair’s unmistakable Maserati already in the auction house car park, and its owner in the office with Adam in a conversation which broke off abruptly at the sight of her, his eyes igniting with a heat Kate responded to with a friendly smile.
    ‘Morning, Alasdair,’ she said cheerfully, and frowned at her brother’s dark-circled eyes in sympathy. ‘Oh, dear. Bad night?’
    Adam smiled wryly. ‘My turn for the two o’clock feed. The little demon took ages to get back to sleep afterwards.’
    ‘The joys of fatherhood,’ she said with mock sympathy.
    ‘I’m not complaining—at least not much,’ he said, and grinned at Alasdair. ‘You should try it.’
    ‘I hope to, one day,’ Alasdair assured him, and turned to Kate. ‘On Adam’s recommendation I booked lunch at a French restaurant down the road.’
    ‘Wonderful. School dinners will take some getting used to when I go back!’ She smiled at Adam. ‘Why not join us?’
    ‘No, thanks. I’m saving myself for dinner tonight. Mother’s looking after Hal, and I’m taking Gabriel out for the first time since the son and heir arrived. By theway,’ he added, ‘your friend called in this morning, Kate. I gave him a sneak preview of the furniture in next week’s auction.’
    ‘Jack Spencer?’ she said, surprised. ‘Did he see anything he fancied?’
    ‘Quite a bit,’ Adam grinned at Alasdair. ‘I showed him some of your stuff, but no luck.’
    Alasdair shrugged. ‘Depends on taste, I suppose.’
    ‘What kind of thing was he after?’ asked Kate, amused by the idea of Jack Spencer turning up his nose at Alasdair’s cast-offs.
    ‘He was very keen on a little mahogany side table, circa 1800—asked me to look out for pieces of the same period. He fancied a Cartier brooch, too.’
    ‘Time we were off, Kate,’ said Alasdair abruptly, and held the door open for her. ‘See you, Adam.’
    ‘You were in a hurry,’ commented Kate as they walked down the Parade towards the restaurant.
    ‘I was keen to get you to myself,’ he informed her. ‘Full marks to Adam for his tact in refusing to come with us.’
    ‘You lunched with him at the Chesterton, which is more than I’m getting,’ she pointed out. ‘Not, of course, that I object to your choice for today.’
    ‘Glad to hear it. Though we can eat at the Chesterton if you prefer.’
    ‘No way. Too expensive. I had coffee there the other day with Jack.’
    ‘Ah, yes. The builder with expensive tastes.’
    Kate looked up at him in amusement. Alasdair was wearing a steel-grey moleskin suit the colour of his eyes, which were wintry as he strode along at a pace too fast for comfort for his companion.
    ‘Slow down , Alasdair,’ she protested. ‘It’s only just after midday.’
    ‘Sorry,’ he said shortly, and matched his stride to hers.
    She frowned. ‘Why were you getting steamed up about Jack’s taste in furniture?’
    ‘Not furniture. Women. Or one woman, to be