Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 02 - London Broil by Barbara Silkstone Read Free Book Online Page B

Which, unfortunately, is most of the time.
    “We’ll call Benny when we get to my place. I’m sure there’s an easy explanation. He has a security system, so you were all safe. Maybe it was just curry on the floor.”
    “I know the difference between blood and sauce.”

Chapter 14
    I worried about Benny for the whole hour we taxied to Roger’s flat, which was in a converted river warehouse. The apartment building sat on the seawall overlooking the Thames.
    We hiked the stairs to the third floor. The door to his place was a rich cherry wood with a brass number “8.” The walls of his apartment were exposed brick, with light oak floors and darker oak beams that hung low and supported the loft above our heads. There was a contemporary-style fireplace and a white fur rug in front of the hearth. Greenery filled every corner and ledge. I wondered who watered them when Mr. Adventure was on his adventures. The place had clean lines, simple but posh, with an etched glass divider between the kitchen the main room.
    There was a lovely view of Tower Bridge and the Thames. And best of all, it was a good distance from Harvey Nichol’s designer floor. Now that I was on a serious budget, it was important to keep my distance from Harvey and Harrods.
    The master bedroom was a loft above the living room, with a floor to ceiling panorama of the river. A door to the left was open and revealed a study with an uncluttered desk. On the opposite end of the flat was a small guestroom facing the water.
    Dropping my purse and bag, I collapsed onto a Swedish-style tweed sofa. Roger grabbed my hand, pulled me from my seat, and waltzed me around the room. I was dizzy from the heat and embarrassed to have melted off all my makeup. “What are you doing? Call Benny!”
    “I’m dancing the happy dance with you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
    “Have you been drinking? Call Benny!”
    He kissed me on the cheek. “I’m sure it’s nothing, and Benny will insist I come right over. Do you know I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you?”
    “Bull puppies! And, if you care so much, why don’t you believe me about Benny?”
    “You have a tendency to dramatize things.”
    “And you don’t, Dr. Drama?”
    We both laughed. His reassurances about Benny were reducing my anxiety. It felt good to be with him again. Was it just our shared survival at sea, or was it something more? We made a good antiquities recovery team.
    Seeing him in a different setting was playing havoc with my heart. It would be nice to have some private time together, to get to know him. I hesitated. An adventurer like Roger Jolley was not the safest place to invest my love. It would be hard for me to trust a man who led a globe-trotting life.
    I glanced around his flat, “Are you American or British?”
    “Would it matter if I were British?”
    “Hell, yes! Say something in British.”
    “I believe I have a Spotted Dick.”
    “Take me. I’m yours.”
    We crumbled onto the floor in silliness, but soon we were locked in an extended hug. A little nuzzling felt good. The afternoon sun lit up the room with a watery golden glow, adding to the magic of our stolen moments.
    “Prepare to be boarded!” Roger laughed.
    “If that is supposed to be romantic, I am so out of here,” I giggled.
    He batted his killer eyelashes as he caressed my face. “Oh, Wendy, I’ve waited so long for this moment.”
    “You’re laying it on too thick,” I said as I laugh-moaned. “Too hokey…”
    “I guess I’m a bit of a cock-up.”
    I roared as I rolled away from him. “You did not just say that.”
    “What? Cock-up?” He kissed me and we both broke into hysterics.
    “This will never do. You have to stop clowning.”
    “Come here, you vixen!”
    “That takes it! I need a shower!” I said as I pulled away from him. “I’m a sweat-ball from my hike across London. It will just take a sec.” I scrambled to my feet. “We have to get serious. Call Benny. Something might have