Do Not Disturb (76 page)

“They took Anton straight into the city.” She couldn’t seem to stop talking. It was as if she hoped her words could form a physical barrier between them. “The FBI want to interview him—I bet you know about that already—and I’m sure Interpol won’t be far behind. They’re gonna want to talk to me too, I’m sure, but the local cops are so hopeless they let me leave with Lola, so at least I’ll get one full night’s sleep before I face the music. Anyway, I saw Anton leave with his lawyer, the fat guy, but I don’t think he saw me. Maybe he did, though. And then they brought Petra in—”

“Sian.” Ben put his index finger to her lips. “I don’t care.”

Ba boom. Ba boom.
Someone seemed to have turned up the volume on her heartbeat to full. She finally stopped talking.

“I don’t care what happens to Anton, or Petra. I don’t care about Interpol. I don’t even care about the fund anymore. Not if I can’t have you with me.”

“But…” Somehow Sian forced the sound from her lips. “What about Bianca?”

“Bianca’s lovely,” said Ben, tenderly stroking a stray tendril of hair back from her face. “And I’ve tried to love her. Really tried. But I don’t.”

“Oh,” said Sian, who knew it was wrong to grin but couldn’t seem to help herself. “I see. Probably not the greatest idea to marry her, then. Is it?”

Ben burst out laughing, sweeping her up into his arms and spinning around on the sand. “No, you cheeky cow,” he said. “It probably isn’t. Then again, I’m not so sure I should risk it with a gold-digging slapper like you, either.”

“
Slapper?
” she laughed, hitting him on the head. “How dare you! Anyway, I’ll have you know I don’t need your money. I’m a woman of independent means now, thanks to the dear old
News of the World
. I have a big career ahead of me, traveling the world, exposing injustice.”

Ben’s face fell. He set her down on the ground again. “You can’t,” he said. “You can’t travel the world.”

Sian looked up at him quizzically. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “Why not?”

“Because,” he said, frowning. “Because it’s dangerous. There’s…terrorism. And stuff.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“I’m serious,” said Ben. “And anyway you’ll be too busy in London to go gallivanting around the globe.”

“Busy with what?” said Sian.

Ben grinned. “Having my babies.”

Sian’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes,” said Ben firmly. “You bloody well will.” And leaning down, he kissed her, so hard and for so long that she started to feel dizzy.

“By the way,” he said, finally coming up for air. “Whose idea was the maid’s outfit?”

“Anton’s,” said Sian, blushing. “All the party staff had to be in full uniform. Fucking pervert.”

“You know, maybe we’ve been a bit too harsh on old Anton,” Ben whispered, his fingers creeping slowly up beneath her ludicrously short skirt. “I’m starting to think he wasn’t
all
bad.”

Closing her eyes, ensconced in Ben’s arms at last, Sian was almost inclined to agree.

About ten miles away, in the passenger seat of Lucas’s rental car, Honor was starting to get concerned.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” she asked, again. “Because I’ve been coming here my whole life, and I have no idea where the hell we are.”

When they’d left the party, Lucas had sped off in the direction of the city, then forked right into remote farmland where a dizzying latticework of lanes seemed to be leading them farther and farther into the boonies before jackknifing back in the direction of the coast.

The drive had been eventful. As soon as they were out of sight of the Herrick, Lucas dropped the bombshell that Petra was the one responsible for the Palmers fire. Honor’s first inevitable question—“How do you know?”—was more shell-shocked than accusatory.

“Sian told me this morning, on the way back from Kennedy,” said Lucas, “and we tipped off the police just as Tina got up onstage. I asked her to look into it back in London, but to be frank with you, I never thought she’d come up with anything, and certainly not with this.”

“But Petra…she could have killed me,” Honor murmured to herself, after a long initial silence. “She could have killed a lot of people. And she was already so far ahead of us at the Herrick. Why would she take that risk when there was no need?”

Lucas shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “Why did Nixon bug Watergate when he was about to win a landslide? For some people, getting to the top is the easy part. It’s staying there that panics them. Petra’s always been obsessively ambitious. And she hates your guts. Maybe she wanted to impress Anton? Maybe she just wanted you gone.”

Honor shuddered. Did he mean “gone” as in not a commercial threat, or “gone” as in dead and gone? It was a scary thought.

“Sian thinks Tisch didn’t know what she was up to,” said Lucas. “If she’s right, that’s just about the only dirty pie he didn’t have his finger in.”

But Honor was barely listening. “Did you say you asked Sian to look into the fire?” she asked, suspiciously. “Why would you do that?”

“We’re here,” said Lucas, not answering the question as he brought the car to a screeching, dust-spraying halt. “Come on. Out you get.”

“We’re here?” Honor stepped gingerly out of the car, lifting up her long dress with her hands to stop it from trailing in the sand. “Oh my goodness, we’re
here
. How did we get back to town so fast?” They were at the entrance to one of the many winding paths leading to Water Mill, the beach where the two of them had first met so inauspiciously all those years ago.

It was pitch-dark. The stars were out in force, but the moon was only the merest sliver of a crescent, and with the car’s head-lamps off it was hard at first to make out anything in the blackness. But once her eyes adjusted, Honor could see the familiar slope of the ground and the tufts of spiky, windblown grass bursting through the sand at intervals, like an old woman’s beauty spot sprouting unwanted hair.

“Follow me,” said Lucas, taking her hand to help her over the uneven ground.

“Would you slow down?” she pleaded, stooping to remove her stilettos as she felt the white chiffon of her dress catch and tear on some brambles. “I almost broke my ankle on that last slope.”

“You shouldn’t wear such ridiculous shoes then, should you?” said Lucas, scooping her up into his arms without breaking stride.

“They’re party shoes.” Honor looked at him indignantly. “I didn’t know I’d be going moonlight hiking, did I?”

But she allowed him to carry her the final few yards down to the beach, closing her eyes and taking instinctive comfort in the warmth of his body. Her own body rocked in sync with his big, loping strides, like a child swinging in a hammock, a motion that
stirred dim memories of being picked up and carried across the lawn at Palmers by her father. She must have been very young then. It would have been before her mom died. Afterward Trey could barely bring himself to touch her, never mind hold her close, as Lucas was doing now.

“Here we are.”

Setting her down on the sand, he stood back and watched for her reaction. Laid out in front of them was a midnight-blue cashmere blanket, weighted down by heavy onyx candleholders that glowed orange from the tea lights within. It was simple—nothing over-the-top or cheesy—but it was an undeniably romantic gesture.

“What else did you bring down here, Casanova?” she teased him, trying to hide her own nervousness by going on the offensive. “Barry White CDs and a cocktail shaker?”

“Of course not,” said Lucas defensively.

“What is this, your lovers’ lair? Bring all the girls here, do you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, sitting down grumpily on one side of the blanket and leaving her no option but to do the same. “It’s just somewhere off the beaten track where I figured we could talk in peace.”

“OK.” Honor sounded less than convinced. “So, now that you’ve lured me here, what do you want to talk about?”

Lucas stared awkwardly at his hands, as if the answer to her question might be revealed by the calluses on his palms. He had so much to say to her, but in that moment, watching her provoking, elfin, defiant little face flickering in the candlelight, his carefully prepared speech tumbled out of his head like so many rice grains through a colander. He felt his mouth go dry and swallowed hard.

“You asked me a question earlier,” he began awkwardly, “about why I had Sian do some digging into the arson attack at Palmers.”

“Oh yes,” said Honor, feigning unconcern. She was regretting having shown him her vulnerable side yet again by letting him carry her down here, and thought some aloofness might help her regain the upper hand. “I just wondered, that’s all. It’s not important.”

“I did it because I knew you were struggling financially,” said Lucas.

“What do you mean?” said Honor, immediately defensive. “I’m doing great, thanks. I’d worry more about your own business if I were you.”

Lucas laughed. “After tonight, our worries are over,” he said confidently. “Connor won’t want anything more to do with Anton after this, just you watch. The court case’ll go away, he’ll pay my costs without a murmur, and we’ll be back to business as usual.”

“Whatever you say,” said Honor, who was feeling more and more rattled.

“Look,” said Lucas, exasperated that once again things were not going according to plan. Why was it that whenever he tried to do something to impress Honor, she ended up throwing it back in his face? “If you’d stop ranting for a moment and listen—”

“I am not ranting!” Honor ranted.

“I’m trying to tell you that I did this because I wanted to help you. I wanted to help you get your money. The insurers will have to pay out now, right?”

“Oh, come on,” said Honor robustly. “You don’t do anything unless there’s an upside. There must have been something in it for you. So what was it? Getting your own back on Petra for taking the Herrick job? Or do you get a cut of Sian’s money?”

“Neither,” said Lucas.

“Well, what then?” said Honor.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I’d do something good and decent and right without an ulterior motive?”

“Erm…because I know you?” said Honor, only half-jokingly.

“OK,” said Lucas defiantly. “OK, fine. It was you. You were what was in it for me.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you stupid bitch. You!” he shouted, so loudly that Honor jumped. Standing up, he began prowling around the blanket like a lion guarding his territory, or perhaps sizing up a possible kill. “Does that really surprise you so much? That I might want to help you, because I care? Because I care about you?”

The last sentence came out with all the reluctance of a pulled tooth.

“You care? About me?” Honor repeated, aware she must sound like a parrot, or a lunatic, or both, but not sure what else to say. “But you’re Lucas. You don’t care. You don’t care about anyone.”

“Thanks,” he laughed bitterly.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” said Honor. “You’re so ambitious.”

He looked at her, incredulous. “I’m ambitious? And you’re not?”

“Well, yes,” she admitted. “Maybe a little bit. But that’s different. I have a responsibility for Palmers. My family…anyway, this is beside the point!” she added crossly, back on the offensive. “If you care about me so much, why were you such an asshole in Vegas?”

“An asshole?” Lucas looked genuinely hurt. “How was I an asshole?”

“You took advantage of me,” said Honor.

She did at least have the decency to look shamefaced when she said it.

“Oh, please,” said Lucas. “Bull-sheet!” His Spanish accent was always strongest when he was angry. Grabbing her by the wrists, he pulled her to her feet and, without thinking, kissed her. “You wanted me so badly in Vegas you were practically begging.”

Honor opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed her again, with such force that she staggered backward, tripping over one
of the onyx candleholders and landing ass-first on the sand. The next thing she knew Lucas was lying above her, propped up on his elbows, while she tried ineffectually to writhe out from beneath him.

“Admit it,” he said, smiling for the first time since they’d gotten there. “You wanted me from the beginning. From the first day I met you, right here on this beach, when you were still doing your best to convince the world you had a dick between your legs.”

Honor shook her head violently. “You are so fucking delusional. If anyone wanted anyone, it was you who wanted me.”

“All right, yes,” he admitted, rather throwing her off stride. “I did want you, despite how awful you looked.”

“I did
not
look awful!”

“But you were too busy making a fool of yourself with that middle-aged jerk-off Devon Carter to notice.”

Honor blushed scarlet. “Well
you
were too busy screwing my sister, along with every other female that moved.”

“Fine,” said Lucas, sensing the mood deteriorating. “Let’s say we were both fools, shall we? Can’t we make up for it now?”

For a split second, Honor thought about keeping up the fight. About telling him to fuck off and berating him for meddling in Palmers and her life. But then he bent his head, brushing his lips along her collarbone and down, tantalizingly slowly, toward her breasts. And she changed her mind.