Aware suddenly that she was struggling to keep up with him, he slowed his pace and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry. I think they must be in the garden room.’
The garden room! Was that some kind of conservatory? Nola wondered as she followed Ram’s broad back.
Yes, it was, she concluded a moment later as she walked into a light, exquisitely furnished room. But only in the same way that Ram’s rainforest hideaway was some kind of treehouse.
‘Finally! I was just about to ring you, Ramsay.’
Pulse racing, Nola swung round. The voice was high and clear, and surprisingly English-sounding. But not as surprising as the woman who was sashaying towards them.
Ram smiled coolly. ‘Hello, Mother.’
Nola gazed speechlessly at Pandora Walker. Tall, beautiful and blonde, wearing an expensive silk dress that showed off her slim arms and waist, she looked more like a model than a mother—certainly not one old enough to have a son Ram’s age.
‘You said one o’clock, and it’s two minutes past,’ Ram said without any hint of apology, leaning forward to kiss her on both cheeks.
‘Five by my watch.’ She gave him an indulgent smile. ‘I’m not fussing on my account, darling, it’s just that you know your father hates to be kept waiting.’
Glancing past them, she pursed her lips.
‘Not that he has any qualms about keeping everyone else hanging around. Or ruining the food.’
Nola stilled. Goosebumps were covering her arms. For a fraction of second it could have been her own mother speaking.
But that thought was quickly forgotten as, shaking his head, Ram turned towards Nola and said quietly, ‘The food will be perfect. It always is. Nola, this is my mother, Pandora. Mother, this is Nola Mason. She’s one of the consultants I hired to work on the launch.’
Smiling politely, Nola felt a jolt of recognition as she met Pandora’s eyes—for they were the exact same colour and shape as Ram’s. But where had he got that beautiful black hair?
‘Thank you so much for inviting me,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s really very kind of you.’
Pandora leaned forward and brushed her cheek lightly against Nola’s.
‘No, thank you for coming. I can’t tell you how delightful it is to meet you. Ram is usually so secretive. If I want to know anything at all about his private life I have to read about it in the papers. Ah, finally, here’s Guy. Darling, we’ve all been waiting...’
Nola felt another shiver run over her skin. Pandora was still smiling, but there was an edge of coolness to her voice as a tall, handsome man with blond hair and light brown eyes strolled into the room.
‘Ramsay, your mother and I were so sure you’d forget I booked to have lunch with Ted Shaw at the club. Just had to ring and cancel.’ He turned towards Nola. ‘Guy Walker—and you must be Nola.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Walker.’
He smiled—a long, curling smile that reached his eyes.
‘Call me Guy, please, and the pleasure is all mine.’
Ram might get his grey eyes from his mother, Nola thought as she followed Pandora out of the room to lunch, but he’d clearly inherited his charm from his father.
To her relief, she quickly discovered that Ram had been telling the truth about his parents. They were the perfect hosts: beautiful, charming and entertaining. And the food was both delicious and exquisitely presented. And yet somehow she couldn’t shift the feeling that there was an undercurrent of tension weaving unseen beneath the charm and the smooth flow of conversation.
‘So what is it you did, then, Nola? For RWI, I mean?’ Leaning forward, Guy poured himself another glass of wine.
‘I’m a cyber architect. I designed and installed the new security system.’
He frowned. ‘That’s a thing now, is it?’
Nola opened her mouth, but before she could reply Ram said quietly, ‘It’s been a “thing” for a long time now. All businesses have cyber security teams. They have to. Big, global companies like RWI even more so. They’re a prime target for hackers, and if we get hacked we lose money.’
Guy lifted his glass. ‘By we you mean you.’ He smiled conspiratorially at Nola. ‘I might have given him my name but it’s not a family business.’
She blinked. Taken at face value, Guy’s comment was innocuous enough: a simple, statement of fact about who owned RWI. So why did his words feel like a shark’s fin cutting through the surface of a swimming pool?