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Daniel wondered if his father, killed in his prime, would have agreed. If it hadn’t been for his unborn son he might well be alive today. It was a question he could never know the answer to, and guilt tinged the sadness that tightened his chest with a familiar ache.
Enough. Face forward.
‘That is your prerogative. I’m happy to keep my life childfree.’
‘Yet you don’t strike me as someone who shirks responsibility. You certainly haven’t skimped on hard work.’ She looked down at her notebook. ‘According to my research, ten years ago you established a small firm in the North of England. You are now CEO of a global law firm.’
‘That’s a different type of responsibility, and I’ve loved every minute of it. I grew the company regionally at first, then nationally, and recently it has become global through a process of partnerships, mergers and acquisitions. A key to my success has been successful branding, but also an ability to create and maintain true corporate spirit and a shared ethos.’
Pride warmed him—success was what drove him. That and a need to prove he could make it without the backing of the mob, a desire to show his mother he could provide for her.
He glanced across at Kaitlin, who scribbled industriously in her book. ‘Why the research?’
‘Because having some information about you enables me to know the right thing to say to different people. So, for example, if I know you love archery and I am speaking to a guest in Venice who also loves archery I can put you together.’
Daniel studied her expression—the small frown of concentration that crinkled her brow, the serious set of her lips. Clearly the conversational prowess she was known for came at a price, and he wondered if she did this before any conversation, public or private, if she always vetted each and every word.
‘For the record, I’ve never done archery. I used to be a dab hand at basketball, and I’ve done some boxing, but nowadays I mostly work. I will admit to a love of food, though, and I like to cook. Does that help?’
‘Yes. Thank you. Now, can you tell me the exact itinerary for the days in Scotland? What activities are we participating in? How many teenagers will be there?’
‘Fifteen kids, aged from fifteen to nineteen. Nine boys, six girls. The first day we’ll be kayaking, the next day hiking, the third day there will be a choice—’ He broke off. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No.’
‘Then why have you gone pale?’
‘It must be a trick of the light.’
Bending over the notebook, she appeared to be writing ferociously, but her fingers held the pen in a death grip and the pallor of her skin had nothing to do with the lighting.
She released the pen and looked over his shoulder. ‘Here comes the main course.’
CHAPTER SIX
DESPITE THE INCREDIBLY appetising scent that wafted up from their plates—garlic interlaced with a touch of parsley and a tang of lemon—foreboding touched Kaitlin. Kayaking... As if everything wasn’t bad enough already, she would have to face a water-based activity. Water had always inspired her with unease, and it was a fear her kidnappers had played upon—revealed to them by the Derwent Manor staff member who had help lure her to her capture.
After the kidnap that unease had matured into a full-scale phobia, alongside a multitude of anxieties that had had her seeing danger lurking at each and every corner. But water had been the worst... The idea of it dragging her down, of not being able to breathe, had been too reminiscent of what her captors had inflicted upon her. Black terror as she’d been blindfolded, held under the wate
r and pulled out only when her lungs had teetered on the verge of collapse.
Anxiety unfurled tendril after tendril of fear that twisted her tummy into knots of apprehension.
‘Earth to Kaitlin?’
The deep timbre of Daniel’s voice pulled her back to reality.
Focus.
A glance down at her plate. The swirl of linguine. Rings of calamari. The vibrant red of tomato sauce patterned by tiny green capers. Next she looked at the pale gold of the white wine. Up to Daniel’s face. Craggy, strong, intensity in his ice-blue eyes as they watched her, the formation of a frown on his forehead.
‘Is everything OK?’ he asked.
‘Everything is fine.’ The panic began to recede and she knew she had it under control. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
The attempt at lightness not quite pulled off.
‘You’ve gone pale, and you zoned out for a couple of minutes there.’
