CHAPTER 12

Ten-foot-high ornate wrought iron gates with the original escutcheons still in place slowly rolled open as their car approached and what could only be called an estate was unveiled. Manicured lawns left and right, the occasional border garden, ancient trees lining the drive, in the distance a huge Victorian mansion cum palace in grey stone.

Kate’s eyes were wide. ‘Wow. I’m impressed.’ The mansion stood at the end of a long drive, three storeys of bays, wings, loggias, miles of windows and, as advertised, a soaring turret complete with a crenellated battlement.

‘It’s typical Victorian overkill,’ Dominic said of the eclectic mishmash of architectural styles. ‘But I like it.’ He could have been saying ‘hold the mayo’, so unaffected was his tone.

‘Palo Alto and this. You don’t like modern, do you?’

‘I prefer a house with a past. It reminds me of all those who lived before me. That life’s short. And overweening hubris is for fools.’ He turned to her with a smile. ‘So that makes me pretty conservative when it comes to business decisions.’

She snorted. ‘Like your space rocket? Your pet project takes up five pages in the Knight Enterprises’ prospectus.’

He shrugged. ‘Someone has to pay for exploration. And there’s always financial rewards eventually.’ He gave her a teasing look. ‘You’ve heard of Columbus?’

‘And your rocket’s just as dicey a gamble.’

‘Perhaps. Or a gamble I might win. Are you interested in rockets?’

‘I should say yes, with that gleam of excitement in your eyes, but I know next to nothing about rockets.’

Her honesty always surprised him. Most women would have feigned interest. ‘If you like I could run through the fundamentals for you some time.’

‘You’d have to keep it simple.’

‘You’re too modest. Anyone who can infiltrate impenetrable firewalls can grasp some simple laws of physics. Maybe over drinks some night in the turret room?’

My God, he could be sweet. How easy it would be to fall under his spell and forget who and what he was. ‘That sounds very nice,’ she said, determined not to lose sight of the ruthless man behind the cultivated grace.

He was about to question the coolness in her voice when he caught sight of the car parked outside the main door and the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. It was too early for Mrs Hawthorne. And there were very few people who felt free to use his home, none of whom he cared to see right now.

But he politely helped Kate from the car a few moments later and ushered her up the stairs, preparing himself for whatever trouble lay inside. As they approached the entrance door, Kate stopped short and exclaimed. ‘What a beautiful stained glass window!’

Hers wasn’t an unusual reaction. ‘I’m told it’s one of Rossetti’s few. His wife, Elizabeth Siddal, I believe.’

The door suddenly opened and a young, brawny man in a black suit stood on the threshold. ‘Good morning, Nick.’

‘Morning Leo.’ Grateful that Kate was studying the stained glass window and standing slightly apart, Dominic quietly asked, ‘Who’s here?’

Leo took a step closer and lowered his voice. ‘Your mother.’

Dominic groaned. ‘When did she come?’

‘A week ago.’

A subtle alleviation of his frown. ‘Then she’s leaving soon.’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘The car’s waiting to take her shopping, I suppose. Oh, Christ,’ Dominic muttered as he saw his mother come down the grand staircase. ‘Have her out of here by ten,’ he said under his breath. ‘I don’t care how you do it, just do it. I have a visitor coming at ten thirty.’ He nodded towards a pile of packages on the console table. ‘From Cheun?’ At his major domo’s affirmative nod, he crisply added, ‘Send those to the Garden House and make sure the place is cleaned.’ He gave Leo a telling look. ‘I mean sanitized. And I want flowers,’ he quickly added before his gaze veered to one of the major liabilities in his life closing in on him. ‘Hello, Mother,’ he said in a conversational tone. ‘What a surprise.’

‘You should answer your phone.’

‘I’m sorry, I thought I did. I don’t remember you mentioning anything about Hong Kong.’

‘You never listen to me, dear. You’re just like your father. Who’s your little friend?’

Kate had spun around at the word ‘mother’, gone pale and found herself literally shocked speechless. A petite, trim blonde in pink Chanel, nipped and tucked to look not a day over forty was staring at her with a derisive half smile.

‘She’s a colleague, Mother.’ Dominic put out his hand and drew Kate forward. ‘Mother, may I introduce Miss Hart. She just saved Knight Enterprises twenty million. We’re extremely grateful for her expertise.’

‘How clever of you, Miss Hart. I can see you’ve impressed my son. Is that one of Greta’s?’ A huge diamond caught the light as she flicked a manicured finger towards Kate.

‘No, Mother. Miss Hart is from the Midwest. As is her wardrobe, I believe,’ he added.

‘Will we be seeing you at dinner, Miss Hart?’ The question was expressed with soft artifice, as if to say, ‘colleague indeed’.

‘Unfortunately, no,’ Dominic interposed, fencing with his mother a familiar sport. ‘We’re leaving Hong Kong this afternoon. We just stopped by for some papers Max sent over. Miss Hart is going to decipher all the numbers for me. She’s one of the best forensic accountants we have.’