Page 21 of Gold Diggers

‘I spend half my life with interior designers,’ he shrugged. ‘The gap between fashion and interiors is shrinking all the time.’

‘Umm, I guess we’re both selling a lifestyle to the same sort of people.’

Now he had led Karin to a quieter part of the Winter Garden where the background noise of the party had faded to a hum. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he sensing the same crackle of chemistry between them? Was he thinking about how long they could wait before they should end up in bed? She looked at him shrewdly. His face certainly wasn’t giving anything away; it was impassive and thoughtful, like a chess grand master waiting for her to make the next move.

‘Well, I think the apartments are incredible,’ said Karin quickly. ‘I heard a rumour that you’ve kept the best apartment for yourself.’

He nodded. ‘I could show you if you like, then you can make up your own mind.’

Karin felt as if they were in some elaborate Regency dance, both skirting around one another, slowly observing and sizing each other up, each trying to stay three moves ahead of the other.

‘I should really go and find my friend,’ said Karin with some reluctance. ‘She’s a little depressed and I’m worried she might throw herself into the fountain if I don’t stop her.’

Karin was scanning his face, willing him to look crestfallen at her refusal, but he merely nodded. ‘Maybe some other time, then.’

Karin returned the nod, determined not to show her own disappointment. Finally Adam smiled. ‘You know, you’re still the only woman I’ve had a decent conversation with in London,’ he said, as if it was a private joke between the two of them.

‘I didn’t know you were keeping

count,’ smiled Karin, feeling a small flame of triumph.

‘So would you like to go for dinner?’ he asked.

It was Karin’s turn to make her chess move. ‘I’m very busy for the next week or two,’ she said.

‘Yes, so am I,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m in Venice for the carnival and Miami for business, but I’m sure we can find a window.’

‘How odd. I’m going to the carnival too,’ she replied as casually as she could.

‘Oh, that’s excellent. I was hoping you would give me the grand tour of London, but perhaps I can show you around Venice instead.’

‘Perhaps. I do know Venice very well,’ smiled Karin.

Adam was shaking his head and smiling. ‘Are you always this difficult?’

She grinned. ‘Only when I’m having fun.’

‘Molly Sinclair. You don’t look as if you’re having a good time.’ Molly turned round to see Marcus standing behind her. She had been leaning against the glass doors of the winter garden listening to a trickle of water falling into the circular pool. She was still fuming from her brief encounter with Adam Gold; that cocky shit had barely looked at her and he was constantly in an impenetrable throng of businessmen. To make matters worse, she’d spotted him cosying up to Karin Cavendish in the garden. She’d taken it out on Harry, ordering him to fetch her jacket from the Ferrari.

‘Well, I’m having a much better time now,’ she said, turning on the charm.

‘Where’s Harry?’ asked Marcus, looking around. ‘I’ve hardly had a chance to say a word to him all night.’

‘He’s off talking to people,’ she said with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘I’m sure he’s found someone more interesting to chat to.’

‘Well, I find that hard to believe,’ said Marcus. Molly examined his expression, trying to decide if his last comment was flirtatious or merely polite. Marcus Blackwell could be useful, she thought.

Marrying well was never just a case of two star-crossed lovers meeting by chance – not in the real world, anyway. It involved a lot of careful planning and manoeuvring. It was an art, thought Molly, an art she had studied for a long, long time.

‘You never did show me that apartment you promised,’ said Molly, touching Marcus’s arm.

‘It’s all locked up for the night.’

‘Oh, come on. You’re the boss around here. Surely you have a key?’

Marcus nodded and patted his pocket. ‘The reason I know the show apartment is locked is because I locked it myself.’

He put his hand lightly on her waist to steer her through the crowd to a private lift. Marcus slotted a card into the wall and the doors hissed open. They stood silently as the lift took them up to the fifteenth floor.