The Lethal Encounter (3 page)

Still, now she was out of the
restaurant, she could look dispassionately back and had to laugh at
herself.....she had so wanted to linger over her coffee as well!

She was tempted to ring one
of her best friends at home to tell them of the incident but, looking at the
time, realised they would all be busy with their various lives - maybe she
would ring later. For now she would enjoy her drink and then make her way back
to her hotel for maybe a coffee at the bar and then a good nights' sleep.

CHAPTER 2

Strolling back down the Rue
d'Antibes for a bit of late night window shopping, Katie felt almost isolated
from events earlier that evening. She certainly felt back in control and, as
she turned back towards the Croissette and her hotel, she felt calm and
relaxed. With a quick break into a trot, she mounted the steps to the hotel and
entered the lobby, veering by the concierge to collect her key, before heading
for the bar and a final coffee to make up for the one cut short earlier. She
sat down at a table and comfy chair on the far side of the room and placed her
order with an attentive waiter who she recognised from previous night.

She had drunk about half her
coffee when she heard chatting and laughing from the door and to her absolute horror,
saw Peter Jarvis enter with the same people who had been in the restaurant with
him. They made their way to the bar and ordered a large round of drinks.
Ridiculously, Katie found herself screwing around in the chair so that her face
was somewhat obscured from the party, although her rational side could not
fathom why she was doing it. Furtively she snatched a glance over and was
relieved to see that she had not been spotted. Feeling slightly sheepish, she
retuned to her original sitting position and continued to finish her drink,
picking up a newspaper that was folded on the other side of the table. Despite
it being in French, she studied it closely and felt somewhat protected by its
presence.

“Would you like to join us
for a drink?” Said a voice not four foot from her table. Katie's heart gave a
lurch and she looked up, only to see Peter Jarvis standing over her. His eyes
were staring intently at her and a slight smile played around the corners of
his mouth.

“Oh, no, no. I couldn't
possibly,” stammered Katie, who immediately, and to her horror, started
fidgeting in her seat. “I couldn't interrupt your night and I’m sure your
friends are waiting for you.”

As soon as she said the
words, Katie realised the trap she had fallen into and so did Peter Jarvis as
he sat down in one of the chairs beside her.

“In that case, I'll join you
for a nightcap. What would you like?” he said as he signalled a waiter from the
bar to take their order. “A brandy maybe, or glass of wine?”

“No, I'm fine thanks,” said
Katie, at last finding her voice and some semblance of control. “I'm just
leaving actually.”

“No, I insist. It's only
early and you probably don't have anything else to do apart from go up to your
room and watch some late night movie or read your book. Have a brandy with me.”
He relayed the order to the waiter and turned back to Katie before giving her a
big smile.

Despite her inner turmoil,
Katie could not help feel a spark of anger. Men like Peter Jarvis were just too
used to getting their own way, particularly, she imagined, with women, and she
did not want to appear to be yet another fawning conquest for a celebrated
captain of industry.

However, looking at this man
beside her, a man who had provoked such a massive reaction in her earlier, she
had an overwhelming sense of curiosity.

“Well, if you portray me in
such mundane, boring light, then I feel obliged to remain and be entertained,”
Katie said. “After all, this could be an amazing opportunity.”

Peter looked at her
quizzically, wondering for a moment if she was being genuine or making fun of
him. Unable to decide he held out his hand and said.

“Allow me to introduce
myself, Peter Jarvis”.

“Katie McGovern.” Katie
replied as she took his hand. His grip was dry and firm and, as they shook, his
eyes met hers again and a tingle flashed down her body. She pulled her hand
away and hoped he had not felt the slight tremor that she knew had gone through
her body.

“Did you enjoy your meal?
That restaurant is a particular favourite of mine. Louis, the head waiter,
always looks after me so well and the chef is first rate. Did you try the meat?
It's excellent.” Peter said smoothly.

On the one hand Katie hated
his confidence, his sheer belief in the fact that he could walk up to any woman
and start a conversation without worrying about the consequences, but, on the
other, she was genuinely pleased at the attention of an incredibly good looking
man who obviously preferred to talk to her than stay with his friends at the
bar. The latter who, she noticed out of the corner of her eyes, were
surreptitiously looking at them together. No doubt smirking at his latest
conquest, she thought.

She looked at him closely,
trying to ascertain whether or not he had known of her discomfort or the effect
he had on her. His eyes were staring intently at her face but, apart from his
open smile, his questions seemed genuine.

“It was good and I did have
the meat,” she said “that was also excellent.”

“And what brings you to Cannes. Katie? Work, or pleasure?” Peter said.

It was at that moment that
Katie realised he had no idea who she was, what she did or that she worked for his
very company. Indeed, she was just about to tell him her circumstances and her
connection to him when something stopped her. She was over the initial panic of
his approach and was starting to relax, so why spoil things now? If she told
him that she worked for Shire, then he would surely jump and leave immediately?

“Work, I'm afraid,” she said
finally. “I work in the computer software business and I'm down here seeing
some clients along the coast. I suppose I could have stayed at Antibes or
somewhere a bit closer but I just love Cannes.”

“Computer software eh, what
company? I'm in that business myself so probably know them.”

“Yes. You're the Peter
Jarvis. I recognise you from the trade press. You're quite the industry
superstar, aren't you?” Katie said, avoiding the question he had put to her.

It was Peter's turn to look
questioningly at Katie in an effort to detect any sarcasm in her voice. His
face relaxed when he saw none.

“Well, I've been lucky. I hit
the market at the right time and things have gone well. I've got some great
people working for me and that helps!”

Again Katie knew she should
come clean and admit her position, but she was starting to enjoy herself now
and bent forward to pick up her brandy from the table. She brought the glass to
her lips and took a sip. Whilst brandy was not her nightcap of choice, the
aroma of the drink hit her nostrils and the warmth of the liquid as it slid
down her throat relaxed her even more and she smiled at him over the rim of the
glass.

“Mmmn, a multi-million pound
company a bit lucky? I don't think so.” Katie was much more sure of herself now
and felt under control. “And what about you? Are you sealing another deal or
just having fun?”

“Bit of both really. I always
try to mix business with pleasure if you know what I mean.” Peter stared at
her, seeming to openly admire her look and appearance. Katie felt flustered
again under his stare and was immediately annoyed. She was not going to let him
get under her skin again!

“And I'm sure you get a lot
of both,” Katie responded, knowing that she would sound catty. She softened the
remark with what she thought was a knowing smile but then realised that just
made the initial comment look worse.

Thankfully, Peter did not
appear to notice.

“Yes, well, indeed. How long
are you here?”

“I'm going back home to London tomorrow, morning flight,” said Katie. “I live in London,” she added.

“Yes, I'm going too.....but
to Frankfurt for a meeting. Where in London?”

“Maida Vale”

“Nice.” Peter said. “I lived
there once. On the corner of Sutherland Avenue, in a little flat on the top
floor of one of those huge white houses. Great pub on the roundabout. Good thai
restaurant above it, I seem to remember.”

“It's a Gordon Ramsay
restaurant now,” said Katie, glad the conversation had moved away from work.

“Really, that's nice. I know
Gordon, he's a nice chap…..overworks terribly though.”

Silence ensued and both took
sips of their drink.

“So who are you with
tonight?” Katie asked.

“Oh, that's Pierre Casson, my
main agent in France. Well, not really an agent, more a fixer, and those people
work for him. I've known them for ages. Pierre helped me start in France.....it's terribly bureaucratic as I'm sure you know. You need someone on the inside
to help oil the cogs.”

Katie did understand this.
Her recent deal was fraught with paperwork and legalese. In fact the agreement
had almost stalled as a result…..but then Peter Jarvis might know that.

“In fact, a big deal
foundered here recently, but the team did a good job getting it signed off. I
did not have to get involved. See - that's the value of good people!”

Again, Katie felt a pang of
guilt. She knew this would be the time to come clean and admit her connection,
confessing that she too was part of his organisation. In many ways, that would
make the whole “meeting” easier. But something stopped her. She did not want
him to become “her boss” with all those attached connotations and she certainly
did not want him to take fright and return to his friends at the bar. In truth,
she was starting to enjoy herself and, as the evening wore on into the early
morning and the more they chatted, the more her enjoyment levels increased.

In fact, now that her initial
nervousness had momentarily ceased, she realised that her first instincts from
the restaurant, were spot on. She found Peter Jarvis hugely attractive and it
was making her feel surprisingly good to be with him. She stared intently at
him as he talked, becoming fixated by the little row of wrinkles at the corner
of his eyes. And his eyes! A marvellous mixture of brown and green, that
remained fixed on her almost the whole time. His stare was drilling right into
her and every now and again he leant forward and touched her forearm or elbow.
These movements were not done in a lusting or aggressive way, but more to
emphasize a point or expression. Every time their skin touched, it was as if a
small electric shock was shooting around her body and, to her consternation,
she felt herself starting to become aroused. It was a subtle feeling to begin
with, just a few gentle waves cascading around her body and ending in a
delightful throb between her legs.

“Katie, are you OK?” were the
next words that registered as she shook herself back to reality.

“Of course.” Katie responded
quickly leaning forward to take another sip of brandy. “Why on earth shouldn't
I be?”

“I don't know. It was as if
you weren't here anymore. Would you like me to go?” Peter replied.

“Oh no, I'm fine, really.”
Katie looked at him and smiled, gently reaching out to touch his hand. As she
did so, their eyes locked and a silent message seemed to fly between them.

Peter nodded, paused as if
making up his mind about something, and then said, in a lower tone.

“Would you like to come up to
my room for another drink?”

There, it was out in the
open. A clear invitation to take things further.

Katie was momentarily
speechless. The normal Katie, the sensible one who had diligently worked hard
at school, got good grades, went to university and now had a good job that paid
well, would have said “fuck off” because to issue such a blatant invitation so
soon after meeting showed that this man was extremely arrogant and was
obviously used to girls falling at his feet and subsequently disrobing,
probably fairly quickly. He probably had a bet on with his friends at the bar
to see how quickly he could get into her knickers! These were the men that
Katie normally steered well clear of and actively hated.