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Jeanie, her hands planted on her ample hips, released a belly laugh at the look of incomprehension on Bruno Judd’s thin mobile face. ‘Mr Judd, if you knew Kirsten’s dad you’d know better than to ask her to model for you in a miniskirt! I’m her friend, and even I haven’t seen her knees or her elbows—so what chance do you think you have?’
‘You don’t understand what an opportunity I would be giving her. There is nothing offensive about my request either. I hate to see potential talent going to waste,’ the older man argued in growing frustration. ‘Kirsten might have what it takes to become a famous model—’
’Might!’ Jeanie emphasised with rich cynicism as the two women walked on, and then she dropped her voice to a whisper, ‘Do you think he could be for real?’
Kirsten shrugged. ‘Who cares? When I leave Strathcraig it’ll be to go to college, so that I can get a better-paying job. I’m not going to waste my time chasing some stupid pipe dream. I bet only one in a thousand girls who want to be a model actually gets to be one.’
‘You’re too sensible,’ the redhead scolded. ‘How’s it going with Lady Posh?’
‘Don’t call her that…she’s been very nice to me,’ Kirsten protested uncomfortably.
‘Odd, that, don’t you think…when everyone else says she’s a total bitch?’
‘I think they’re being very unkind.’
Ignoring Jeanie’s unimpressed snort of disagreement, Kirsten mounted the stairs to the suite Pamela Anstruther used when she was staying at the castle. Kirsten had spent two of the past four days working for Pamela, and she was enjoying the chance to get a break of a few hours here and there from her usual duties. She had answered the phone, run messages and organised the mess on Pamela’s desk. She had also unpacked and ironed the other woman’s clothes and tidied her room. Pamela treated her more like a casual friend than an employee and Kirsten couldn’t help wanting to please her.
A dark frown of disapproval stamped on his lean, powerful face, Shahir watched Bruno Judd finally abandon his attempt to recapture Kirsten’s attention as she crossed the quadrangle. There could be no mystery as to the source of the photographer’s interest, and Shahir was concerned by what he had seen. The older man was not known for his scruples.
As Shahir turned away from the window, wondering whether or not he should intervene, Pamela Anstruther telephoned to request an immediate meeting with him.
A few minutes later Shahir rose from behind his desk to award the highly strung brunette his reluctant attention. ‘What is the problem that you prefer not to discuss on the phone?’
Pamela winced. ‘It’s rather delicate. I’m afraid a piece of jewellery has gone missing from my bedroom.’
Shahir looked grave. ‘The police must be called.’
‘I don’t want to upset the staff by involving the police. Really, the brooch isn’t worth very much!’
‘Monetary value has no bearing on the matter. I will not tolerate theft.’
‘But it is still possible that I have mislaid the stupid thing. Let’s not inform the police yet. I’ll ask Kirsten to search my suite for it.’
‘As you wish.’ For an instant Shahir wondered why she had chosen to approach him before an adequate search had been conducted. ‘Is the guest list complete yet?’
‘Almost. Why don’t you join us for coffee today?’ Pamela suggested brightly. ‘We could make it a working break.’
On the brink of refusal, Shahir hesitated. ‘In thirty minutes, then.’
Kirsten was troubled when Pamela told her about the brooch, because she knew that when anything of value went missing everyone who had entered the castle would come under suspicion. ‘Of course I don’t mind looking for it.’
‘Do this room now,’ the brunette instructed. ‘Then, when the Prince arrives, you can go next door and search my bedroom. Thank you so much. Let’s hope you can find it for me.’
Kirsten was down on her hands and knees on the carpet when she heard the deep dark sibilance of Shahir’s drawl carrying through from the adjoining reception room. Her throat thickened. She sucked in a jerky breath. No matter how hard she tried not to, she thought about him a lot. Not thinking about him sometimes seemed an impossible challenge, for the instant she relaxed her mental vigilance her thoughts would immediately race back to him again.
Her fingers curled round something small and she looked down in bemusement
to see the small brooch that had been lying on the carpet.
‘I found it…Oh, sorry!’ Kirsten came to a paralysed halt in the doorway when Shahir sprang upright at her entrance. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.’
‘My goodness—don’t mind that. You found my brooch?’ Pamela hurried over to examine it. ‘I don’t believe it! I went over every inch of that room before you arrived this morning. Where was it?’
‘On the floor by the dressing table.’
‘But that’s impossible!’ The brunette was frowning in apparent astonishment. ‘Of course I’m very grateful not to have to call the police, but I don’t understand how I could have missed seeing it there.’
‘It happens. Congratulations, Kirsten.’ Shahir’s calm intercession stole both women’s attention.
