Millionaire's women - By Helen Brooks Page 0,120

after which Jack had driven her home in the Jeep.

Anna sighed, disappointed. ‘We thought there might have been more to it than that.’

‘You did, not me,’ protested Ben. ‘Leave the girl alone.’

Kate blew him a kiss. ‘Thanks for the “girl” bit.’

‘Pity though,’ said Anna with regret. ‘I hoped that spending the night together would do the trick.’

‘We didn’t spend the night together,’ Kate reminded her. At least, not all of it.

Kate was heartily glad when the weekend arrived at last and she could make for Manor House School to spend a few happy hours with Joanna. The time with her passed far too quickly, as always, and Kate was in melancholy mood after taking Jo back to school that evening. When Philip Brace intercepted her in the car park she was pleased to see him and this time, with nothing in the world to hurry home for,she accepted his offer of a drink or coffee in the nearest pub before the drive back. Philip was an interesting companion and the interlude was pleasant, but when he saw her to her car afterwards Kate thanked him rather formally for the coffee and his company.

‘No doubt we’ll see each other at school again some time.’

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he assured her, his wry smile telling her he knew exactly where she was coming from.

Kate’s mood deteriorated on the journey home. There was no point in encouraging Philip Brace—or anyone else. The only man she wanted in her life was Jack Logan. And fat chance there was of that that now. She would just have to make the best of life without him. Again. Easy to decide, she thought morosely, but hard to put into practice, even though Jack could have been on another planet for all she knew until she met his father in the park one Saturday afternoon with Bran.

‘What the devil happened between you two, Kate?’ Tom Logan asked bluntly when the greetings were over.

Kate fondled the dog instead of meeting his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You know perfectly well, my girl. Jack is like a bear with a sore head these days. When I see him, that is. He’s either working all the hours that God sends on several projects at once, or driving to London—sometimes there and back the same day.’

And Kate, stabbed by jealousy, could well imagine why. ‘I haven’t seen him, Tom.’

‘Which accounts for his permanent black mood!’ He sighed. ‘I was so sure you two would get back together. What went wrong, Kate?’

Kate smiled into the striking Logan eyes. ‘How about I tell you over coffee at my place? You never did bring Bran to visit me.’

While Bran explored the garden Kate showed her visitor over her house, anxious for his opinion. ‘What do you think of it?’

‘You’ve done a very good job,’ he assured her. ‘Your aunt would be pleased. The house would sell like the proverbial hot cake if you put it on the market.’

Kate shook her head. ‘Not for sale. It’s mine.’

‘Just like Jack and that great house of his.’ Tom followed her into the kitchen to call Bran inside and sat down at the table with the dog at his feet while Kate made coffee. ‘But I’ll say the same to you as I said to him; bricks and mortar are poor substitutes for a loving relationship.’

‘True, but they cause a lot less pain.’

Tom nodded slowly. ‘I grant you that.’

‘You know Jack asked me to marry him?’

‘Just the bare facts. He said you refused, but he wouldn’t say another word.’

Kate heaved a sigh as she brought the tray over to the table. ‘I hoped we could stay friends but Jack isn’t having any.’

Tom looked her in the eye. ‘This is the second time you’ve turned Jack down, remember.’

‘I know.’ She looked at him in appeal. ‘I hope it doesn’t change things between you and me.’

‘Not in the slightest, love.’

To prove it, Tom Logan stayed with Kate until Bran grew restless. ‘I’d better take this chap home. Shall I give Jack a message?’

Kate shook her head sadly. ‘I doubt that he’d want one.’

Later that afternoon she thought for a brief, hopeful minute or two that she was wrong when a familiar florist’s van drew up outside her house. Her spirits soared when she was given a basket of spring flowers but took an instant nosedive when she read the card. The flowers were from Richard Forster. Not Jack.

‘Kate, your strategy worked like a charm. With heartfelt thanks, RF.’

Too bad she couldn’t

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