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Cara’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his rich, deep voice. ‘Well, you didn’t break it exactly.’ She let out a nervous laugh. ‘It was an accident. And you were right. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.’
‘Generous of you considering it was I who ran into you,’ he said pleasantly. Too pleasantly.
He knows about the car, she thought a little desperately, her eyes searching his. She felt it with every guilty bone in her body.
Hoping her face wasn’t flushed even though she felt like it was pressed against a heating pad she told herself to calm down. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was her own sense of guilt making her feel paranoid. ‘Please, don’t mention it again.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Now, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to—’
She stopped speaking and stared up at his bemused expression.
Mr Kelly. Mr Kellllly.
Aidan Kelly?
Like one of the poker machines downstairs that had just hit the jackpot Cara’s brain lit up with where she had seen this man’s face before. Unfortunately he wasn’t some matinee idol; he was the Aidan Kelly of KMG—Kelly Media Group. The founder of some huge network TV station in Australia that had expanded to dominate the US entertainment industry and recently had something to do with British TV, as well. She couldn’t remember what, but she did remember he was as rich as they came and his influence was global. He was also rude and full of himself but … She swallowed heavily. ‘You have an invitation.’ Her voice came out as little more than a squeak and his smile grew.
‘Why else would I be here?’ he asked softly.
No reason, Cara thought wildly, no reason at all. No reason other than to play poker at her table.
She groaned inwardly. The night was ruined. She was dead. He would complain to Christos and then … She had to apologise. Had to admit to her desperate actions at the airport. Admit how late she had been, how desperate, how—
No, she wouldn’t let herself panic and ruin everything. Because what if he didn’t know and she admitted her mistake and made everything ten times worse. No, she would do what her brother Franco had taught her to do in situations like this and play the dead bat—an old cricketing term. Franco would be impressed that she had even remembered.
As plans went it wasn’t the greatest, but it would have to do until she came up with something better.
‘Well then, Mr …’
She let the silence fill between them as she waited for him to provide his name. His mouth kicked up at one corner. ‘Kelly. Aidan Kelly.’
Bond, James Bond had nothing on this man, she thought helplessly.
‘Well, I apologise for the misunderstanding, Mr Kelly, and am pleased to welcome you to the Mahogany Room. My name is Cara Chatsfield and—’
‘I thought I recognised you. Apart from the shoes, of course.’
Cara smiled and her lips felt like they were about to crack. ‘Yes, well. As I was saying, I’m the hostess for the game this evening so if you would like to follow me we’ll get underway.’
He fell into step beside her and Cara slowly released a pent-up breath. Maybe, just maybe, she was going to get away with this.
‘I apologise for being late,’ he said easily. ‘I was …’ Cara glanced up at him when he hesitated. His smile widened and her pulse raced. ‘Delayed at the airport.’
Oh, God. ‘Nothing drastic, I hope?’ she said a little too breathlessly.
‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘Nothing I can’t handle, at least.’ His smile turned lupine and Cara felt dizzy.
She knew her actions in taking his hire car were far from admirable and there was no use pretending she had done it because of a couple of small children. Yes, she had loved being able to get them in out of the cold, but really she’d been beyond desperate and she’d been smarting from his condescending attitude towards her.
The need to admit to what she had done made her stomach feel like it was full of battery acid, but something held her back.
She did plan to apologise. To explain that she had been stressed, upset … a little put off by his gruff manner. None of that was an excuse but … it had happened and she would deal with it. She would pull herself out of yet another mess of her own making. The big question was, when would she learn to stop reacting when someone formed a low opinion of her?
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow she would go to him and apologise. After tonight was over.
‘Yes, it was terribly busy, wasn’t it?’ she said briskly.
Having made her mind up to put off the inevitable, the only option left open to her was to keep pretending that everything was completely as it should be.
