No Gentle Persuasion [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONE Bright sunlight beckoned invitingly through the large office window. Lauren stirred restlessly, glancing at her watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. Catching the movement, her father's secretary summoned an oddly strained smile. 'I'm sure they won't be much longer,' she said. 'Mr Brent will be wanting his lunch too, I imagine.' Not with any desperation, thought Lauren dryly, returning the smile. Their own table had been booked for one, and it was gone twelve-thirty already. Michael, the headwaiter, would save it, of course, but the relaxing pre-luncheon drink would be out. Darn the man turning up out of the blue like this! Not just anybody though, she was bound to acknowledge. One of the Company directors no less. Carol professed not to know the reason he was here, yet the strained look around her eyes and mouth seemed to have increased over the past twenty minutes. It was time her father took the plunge and married the woman, Lauren reflected, mind temporarily diverted. Ten years was long enough for a man to be alone. At forty, Carol Gordon was just right for him, and she certainly made no secret of her regard. They had been lovers for at least twelve months; that much Lauren knew for a fact. Sometimes she wondered if perhaps she herself was the stumbling block, yet had so far found no opportunity to put the question. Not that it seemed likely when she and Carol got along so well, but who was to know how others thought about things?