had to make sure she didn’t make a pig’s ear of everything. She couldn’t get this wrong because of personal problems; Dad would be back to square one. She put coffee into the espresso machine, added water and switched on.
Rafael followed her every movement. His eyes had an enigmatic quality, something about the morning light, or perhaps because he recalled what happened last night.
He said, “I’ve been thinking. With your permission, I’d like to use my resources to try to trace where your mother is.”
Kat’s head jerked up. She didn’t want anyone discovering what she’d discovered. “I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Wouldn’t you like to hear her side of things?”
“No purpose will be served. Nothing will change.”
“Knowledge always changes things,” he said. “However insignificant, information has an effect, no matter what we think.”
Kat squeezed her eyes. For some stupid reason, last night as they’d lain in bed she’d said things she never should, things she’d kept secret. Why had she talked about them, why to him of all people?
Sex, and the relaxation afterward, had caused her to blab; unjustifiable, and stupid. She said, “It won’t change me. Mum disappeared when I was a kid. She didn’t want me. End of story.”
“I realise you had a painful experience, but perhaps we can work around it.”
“The legacy she left is quite enough, thank you very much. I want nothing more from her.”
“Legacy?” A frown flitted across his face.
“Never mind.” Kat clamped up, glad some sense of self-preservation had made her keep some things from him last night.
“But it might change the way you look at yourself and life.”
“I don’t think so. I fully recognize what’s wrong with my life.”
“Do you?”
What do you want me to do? Admit my failures? I suppose you consider confession good for the soul… or do you enjoy prying?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“I suppose you think by owning to making a mess of things, I’ll rid myself of monsters? Well I confess; I foul up. Okay? Satisfied? Look, my mother deserted me when I was young, and I’m screwed up. That’s enough.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” he said in a quiet voice.
“But you want me to admit my love life is a mess.”
“Now you’re being deliberately obtuse.”
“I thought last night would have made you realise what an emotional dwarf you’re dealing with.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Forget last night; I told you more than I should.”
“Jesus Christ! Your self-esteem really has hit the bottom? What the hell’s going on?”
Kat glared defiantly. She hated pity, despised solicitousness. She said, rigid, “I can face reality. I don’t need sympathy.”
“Is that what you call it? I would hardly put my feelings into that category.”
Katrina had the impression she was falling into a trap. She didn’t care. “So, you would call it what? Charity? Señor, I don’t need that either. I give charity, I don’t accept it.” She spun away.
He caught her by the shoulders. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to my room. Any objections?”
“My God! You’ve really no idea what you’re about, have you? You put yourself on a pedestal that most men wouldn’t have the heart to climb.”
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough climbing for most men? You climbed right inside me last night, or don’t you remember?” Kat swung away, her eyes closed to shut his image away; determined not to let him see the effect he had, determined not to let tears spill.
“Wait! There’s something else.”
“Sexual favours? I told you, last night was a one-night-stand. Passion didn’t come into it; no emotion, a simple fulfilment of a bodily function that will never happen again.”
“I seriously doubt any of that.” His lips became thin and tight. “But I was thinking more of your creative genius. I want to salvage the designs our people made a botch, perhaps bring different fabric into the equation. You told me for the designs to work they needed a good quality silk.”
“I thought I’d already explained. I’m not for sale. I come with the territory, that’s all. I’ve enough on.”
“But if territories change. What then? Would you still be so adamant about not working on the designs?”
“Territories?” She eyed him, suddenly nervous. The image of the file in the attaché case loomed large. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“We need get around a couple of tricky points, but things are on the move.”
“The decision has been made? Is the contract going through if the points can be cleared?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“When will you know?”
“A couple of small things need sorting. But if everything’s okay, we’ll want your input over here and