The Temptress Of Tarika Bay

Not that she could fault him tonight; he’d been a superb host. She slid a glance sideways to scan his striking profile with unwilling appreciation.

Music drifted into the dining room through double doors, slow and smokily suggestive above the low hum of conversation. Morna’s heart began to beat in time to the tune; hastily she put the glass down and got to her feet.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, and retreated to the cloakroom.

She renewed her lipstick and ran cold water over her wrists before straightening her animal print top, its dramatic contrast of black and white somehow suiting her mood. The black wrap skirt that revealed her legs needed adjustment too, but eventually she had to leave her refuge and set off back to the dining room.

Halfway there she was waylaid by an elderly man Nick had introduced to her at the show.

‘Nice to see you again,’ he said, seizing her hand and pumping it up and down. ‘How did you enjoy your day in the country?’

‘I had a great time,’ she said, smiling. ‘I loved those magnificent cattle of yours—even though I can’t remember what breed they are!’

Just outside her field of vision she sensed the approach of another person. She knew who it was; every cell in her body thrummed with a mixture of apprehension and a steamy, elemental excitement.

The voice of the old man as he informed her what esoteric type of cow she’d admired buzzed in her ears.

Her companion broke off to say cheerfully, ‘Hello, young Hawke. Didn’t take you long to find the best-looking woman in the place, did it?’

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