Sweet Surrender by Catherine George

arrival, Mr Spencer?’
    ‘In an incubator for a day or two, but only as a precaution. He’s a great little chap.’
    ‘And how about Abby?’
    ‘Happy as a lark now.’ He smiled down at her. ‘A lot of which is down to you, Miss Dysart.’
    ‘More down to having a new baby brother!’
    ‘How about celebrating his arrival by having lunch with me?’
    Kate shook her head regretfully. ‘I lunched early with my mother. She’s gone off to the dentist.’
    ‘When are you due to meet her again?’
    ‘In an hour or so.’
    He eyed her burden with disapproval. ‘You’re not going to haul those bags round town until then?’
    ‘I was just taking them back to my father at the auction house.’
    ‘Ah!’ He nodded in comprehension. ‘You’re one of those Dysarts.’
    ‘The family business. I was going to beg a coffee while I wait.’
    ‘Have one with me at the Chesterton instead.’ Without waiting for her consent, he took charge of her bags and hurried her off to the car parked illegally at the kerb. ‘They’ll give me a sandwich to eat with it while you tell me everything you’ve been doing since I saw you last.’
    With a bemused feeling she was beginning to associate with Jack Spencer, Kate meekly let him hand her up into the black Cherokee Jeep, and raised a quizzical eyebrow as he stowed her parcels in the back.
    ‘A problem?’ he asked, as he drove off.
    ‘No. I was just wondering if everyone always does exactly what you want all the time.’
    ‘Pretty much,’ he admitted cheerfully.
    Kate took a look at his suit, which on close quarters proved to be of quality as good as anything worn by her father or Adam. Or Alasdair. ‘Day off today?’ she asked.
    He shook his fair head, which looked marginally tidier than the last time they’d met. ‘Interview.’ Again the sidelong grin. ‘Though a meeting with you is an unexpected bonus. I was driving past when I spotted you juggling with those bags.’
    ‘You mean you just stopped the car when you saw me?’
    ‘I came to a screaming halt and raced after you like the guy in the TV ad. Only I didn’t have any flowers to give you.’
    ‘You’ve already done that bit!’
    He laughed as he turned in to the Chesterton car park. ‘So I have.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Hurry up. Ten minutes of your hour gone already, so we’ll have coffee in the bar.’
    Kate’s hair was braided into a corn dolly plait, instead of the knot her companion had objected to previously, and she wore jeans and ankle boots and a Barbour jacket over a heavy pink sweater, but as she went through the portals of the elegant hotel she wished she’d chosen something smarter for her shopping spree.
    ‘I’m not really dressed for a place like this,’ she muttered, as Jack ushered her into a bar crowded with businessmen talking shop before lunch.
    He gave her a morale-boosting look as he seated her at a corner table. ‘You look good to me,’ he informed her, which had such a ring of truth to it Kate relaxed, and watched Jack Spencer with frank curiosity when he went off to the bar to joke with the man behind it as he placed their order. Neither as tall as Alasdair, nor as lean as her brother, there was nevertheless an air of authority about Jack Spencer that made Kate wonder exactly what kind of building work he was involved in. And at his age what job was he interviewing for? She raised her eyebrows, impressed, when he returned to the table accompanied by a waiter with a tray of coffee and sandwiches.
    ‘That was quick’ she said, when the waiter had departed, generously tipped.
    ‘I said you were in a hurry. He must have thought these were for you,’ he added wryly, looking at the dainty, crustless selection.
    ‘Eat them two at a time,’ she advised.
    He laughed, and asked what kind of shopping she’d been doing.
    ‘Clothes to wear for the job. Other than that just window shopping with my mother. I miss that in Foychurch.’
    ‘It can’t be the only thing you miss.’