One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (114 page)

She indicated the table where her things were and, placing his own drink beside hers on the tray, he followed her across the room. They sat down, and he passed her the plate with the doughnut and set their coffees down. She noticed that the carrier bags with
his
shopping were nowhere to be seen…He'd probably off-loaded them on to one of his underlings to take care of!

She began to feel strangely self-conscious, sitting so close to this undeniably handsome man—so close that it was difficult for their knees not to touch beneath the small table! Not that his obvious heart-throb appeal was of the least interest to
her
, she told herself. That part of her life was in a state of permanent shut-down!

Now, she picked up her coffee and forced herself to meet Jed Hunter's gaze over the rim of the mug. Of course, she reassured herself, these panicky feelings running through her were due to the fact that she was sitting in close—very close—proximity to the vastly wealthy owner of the store. He would naturally be a powerful member of the community—but what the hell? So what?
She
was one of his valued customers, and without people like her coming regularly through the doors he wouldn't be able to afford his undoubtedly lavish lifestyle! So she should calm down, she told herself sternly.

He looked at her steadily while she put a piece of doughnut into her mouth. ‘What do you think of those…are they good?' he enquired casually.

Cryssie swallowed before answering, dabbing some sugar from her lips. ‘This one's not bad,' she said coolly, ‘but the quality of the cakes and pastries here can be patchy. I've had some pretty dire ones in the past—most of them frozen, I suppose. You'd think a reputable store like this would cook them on the premises and serve them fresh, wouldn't you? A trained
monkey
could dunk a doughnut.' She took another bite and looked across at him again. ‘Would you like to try a bit?' she asked, knowing full well what his answer would be! He was not likely to lower his prestige by sinking his teeth into a sticky bun! Certainly not sitting with someone like her!

Tilting his mouth slightly at one corner, he said, ‘No…thank you. I wouldn't dream of depriving you.' He paused. ‘There's so little of you, you look as if you really need a square meal rather than a quick fix.'

Cryssie shot him one of the cold looks she knew she was capable of. What a colossal nerve! She knew she must look pale and tired—and who wouldn't with the weeks
they'd
had recently?—but she didn't like it pointed out! And certainly not by this complete stranger. Because that was what he was, after all.

‘Well, it'll be some time before I have the pleasure of enjoying my “square meal”,' she said icily, ‘because I still have to collect the poultry from the butcher before he closes on my way home, then make the stuffing and do the vegetables so that we can enjoy my…Milo…in the morning. See him open up his stocking.'

‘Ah—Milo…' He drank from his mug of black unsweetened coffee. ‘So it was Milo you wanted the toy for?'

‘Yes,' she said briefly. ‘He'll be five soon.' Then her earlier frustration threatened to surface again. ‘It seems to me that Latimer's have got it well and truly wrong this time. They clearly didn't have the vision to see that demand would exceed the supply they were prepared to buy for their shelves. I mean…this is the biggest store for
miles
around—not some little corner shop with limited cashflow!'

‘If, on the other hand, supply had exceeded demand, or this craze had fallen off suddenly,' he intervened, ‘they'd have perhaps a hundred cases of Runaway Rascals to sell off at a cut price in the sale…and there goes their profit.'

‘Their
profit!
' Cryssie nearly exploded. ‘This place must be awash with profit! They can afford to share a bit of it, for heaven's sake, rather than let small children down at Christmas!'

The hint of a smile played around his lips as he listened to her outburst, and he stared at her for a moment. She was devoid of any make-up, he noticed, but wasn't an altogether unattractive woman—though her outfit of a rather shapeless fawn jacket over a brown skirt was hardly the height of fashion. Her long fair hair was drawn fiercely back behind her ears, accentuating a smooth, high forehead, and her green eyes, looking at him squarely, dominated her oval-shaped face. Her only jewellery appeared to be a tiny pair of gold ear studs. An honest description of her would be ‘wholesome', he decided briefly. His lips curled slightly as he found himself assessing her. Well, that was what he always did when meeting a member of the opposite sex, wasn't it? Took stock, so to speak. And this one would be placed in the ‘unmemorable' category, he decided.

Cryssie finished her coffee, waiting for him to take her up on her last remark, but he said no more. And whether it was the sudden effect of caffeine and sugar in her bloodstream, or because she couldn't have cared less if she insulted the owner of Latimer's sitting next to her, she threw discretion to the winds and sailed on blindly.

‘There are all sorts of ways they could tighten up in this place,' she said. ‘Generally, I mean. For example, they often don't seem to stock the same things twice…it's so annoying!' She wasn't going to enlighten him as to what she was talking about—a particularly pretty bra and pants set she'd bought for Polly, which had never been repeated. ‘And as for getting a member of staff to help you—they're invisible, or looking the other way! It encourages shoplifting with so few assistants around. I'm sure anyone could help themselves to anything they fancied and march out without paying. No one would notice!'

Her eyes sparkled with ocean-green intensity in the artificial light of the restaurant, and without giving him a chance to get a word in, she went on. ‘I work for Hydebound—do you know it? We deal exclusively in leather goods, all made by local experts, and—'

‘Yes…I do know of them,' he murmured. ‘They're right on the outskirts of town…rather out of the way, aren't they?'

Cryssie nodded. ‘Our handbags, belts and briefcases are always in demand, and everyone takes responsibility for what they do. As with all smaller concerns, we do have our problems from time to time, but then everyone works all the harder.'

She sat back defiantly, and was suddenly aware of his eyes softening briefly with mild amusement as he looked across at her.

‘Well, you obviously have very firm opinions,' he said. ‘And by the sound of it Hydebound are very lucky to have you on their staff.'

Cryssie bit her lip for a second, anxious thoughts suddenly clouding her expression. Hydebound, like all small businesses, could be commercially vulnerable at times. Although they had a great reputation for quality and design, the price of leather and the regular increase in running costs, not to mention competition from much cheaper imports from all the new EC countries, regularly gave cause for concern. A detectable shiver ran through her, and she suddenly wished that she was home now, sitting comfortably in front of the fire.

‘I really have to go,' she said abruptly, standing up, and he stood as well, moving her chair back for her as she picked up her bags. ‘Thanks for the coffee—and the doughnut,' she added airily.

‘I expect you're looking forward to a good holiday…Do you work full time?' he asked casually.

‘I do,' Cryssie said, shooting him a glance. He probably didn't approve of that, she thought…Mothers working full time instead of staying at home, looking after the family. He looked that type. Well, he could think what he liked, and she wasn't going to enlighten him about her true personal situation—that she wasn't Milo's mother. It was none of his business.

He smiled for the first time. ‘I hope you and the family…and Milo…have a great Christmas,' he said.

She turned to go. ‘Thanks,' she said quickly, as she brushed past him. Well, he might be the man with everything, she thought, trying not to feel cross all over again, but the only thing of his
she
wanted was one of those wretched dolls!

That
was the last thing she'd have expected to happen to her on Christmas Eve, she thought, as the lift sped down through the floors. Telling the owner of Latimer's what she thought of his store! To be honest, she
had
laid it on a bit thick, she acknowledged, because she really did enjoy shopping there, despite all her remarks. But saying all she had had sort of helped ease her annoyance. She glanced down at the bag holding the boots and the ball…She hoped they'd be sufficient compensation—though she doubted it!

Jeremy Hunter watched her go as she swiftly walked away from him, a strange expression on his handsome face. He'd met many women—too many women—in his life—but no one quite like
that!
A feisty female, yet a vulnerable woman. As she'd warmed to what she was saying she'd positively glowed, a rosy blush colouring her cheeks, lighting up her face. He shrugged inwardly, then turned to go. He'd stayed around longer than he'd intended, and he still had these blasted toys to deliver!

Jeremy—or Jed, as he was known to everyone except his parents—steered his silver Porsche effortlessly through the traffic, wishing that he was going back to his flat in London rather than to the family pile in the country. But it was unthinkable that he wouldn't spend Christmas with his parents, Henry and Alice, who doted on their son. Their only son. Whose one great failing in their eyes was his choice in women!

‘When are you going to find yourself a proper woman?' his father would regularly complain. ‘A woman with something between her ears for a change. Never mind where her other attributes might lie!' Henry Hunter was an outspoken man.

Jed admitted to himself that he
had
been susceptible where the opposite sex was concerned. It was hard not to be when women fell at his feet, offering themselves to him with seldom any shame or reticence—and he'd loved it! He owned up to that. But it was different now. He'd made one really big, bad mistake, and he'd learned from it. Well, at thirty-six years old it was about time he grew up!

The traffic was thinning now, and he was able to increase his speed towards the parental home and the festive meal that Megan, the housekeeper, would have ready for them. The family would sit down together, the three of them at the huge oval table, and talk. Discuss business, balance sheets, the state of the economy…

He'd wished many times in his life that he had siblings to share the pressure of being the sole beneficiary of all his parents' love and affection. Could too much be worse than too little? he asked himself—then felt bad about thinking it. He realised that he'd had more than his fair share of all the good things in life…a privileged education, and travel to all corners of the world, with never a thought that the money could, or would, ever dry up. And until the last couple of years he hadn't even been expected to have any hands-on input in the family businesses—the two other Latimer's stores in the Midlands, and two country house hotels in Wales. Settling down to the dreary business of a structured and demanding lifestyle had been proving difficult for Jed, but he had eventually—and willingly—taken up the reins. His parents were no longer in their prime, and Henry had been having a few health problems.

As he waited at traffic lights, his thoughts kept returning to that woman—strange little thing, he mused, not at all conscious of herself as female in the usual sense. No lowering her eyes or fluttering her lashes, no fiddling with her hair. The sort of reaction he usually got. Her eyes—quite pretty, actually—had seldom looked away from his when she was speaking. He wondered briefly what sort of a man she slept with—who Milo's father was, what he was like. He hoped he could stand up for himself! He imagined her now, going home with all that shopping, going home to her husband and child, to catch up on all the household chores…She'd said she worked full time, so it would be all there waiting for her, even on Christmas Eve.

She was certainly no seductress—he was expert at recognising
that
brand of female! Though she probably had her own powers of persuasion hidden somewhere, he thought wryly, a brief smile touching his lips as he remembered her sparky comments about the shop. He shifted in his seat, irritated by his own thoughts, irritated that a casual encounter with a completely insignificant woman was exercising his concentration. Then he frowned. He'd remember what she'd said about the shop, though—if anything could improve the running of the place then it was up to him to see that it was done.

C
RYSSIE
let herself out of the house silently, so as not to disturb Polly and Milo, who were still fast asleep. It was New Year's Eve and not yet seven-thirty a.m., but the Lewis brothers, who owned Hydebound, had called a meeting for the staff. Cryssie frowned as she drove along in her ancient banger of a car wondering why this early, and what it could all be about.

Thinking back over Christmas, she smiled happily to herself. Despite Polly not eating much of all the delicious festive food, Milo had had a wonderful time with all his new toys—and especially with his very own Runaway Rascal! Because, unbelievably, quite late on Christmas Eve, the doorbell had rung and the Latimer's assistant she'd dealt with earlier had stood outside, clutching a bag containing one of the dolls.

‘You'll never believe it,' the girl had said, ‘but we found one in the stockroom. It had fallen down and got lodged behind some boxes. Better late than never, eh?'

Cryssie had been almost dumbstruck with delight, and full of gratitude that the assistant had bothered to bring it.

‘No problem—your house is on my way home,' the woman had assured her.

She wished she could show Mr High and Mighty that he wasn't the only one who always got his own way! But she must be careful what she spent for a bit…She had always been frightened of getting into debt, and sometimes lay awake worrying what would happen to all of them—to Milo—if the unthinkable happened and she was no longer able to support the family. That the little boy should ever have to be fostered, or looked after by someone else, was the stuff of nightmares!

When she arrived, Robert and Neil Lewis, the owners of Hydebound, were already at their desks. Neither of them smiled as she came in, but merely nodded, and her heart sank. They weren't happy, she thought, and by the time the rest of the staff arrived the air of gloom had deepened. This could only mean one thing, Cryssie thought ruefully—disappointing financial news, even though recent sales had been so good. Well, they'd survived those times before, and would again! Anyway, the rather elderly brothers always tended to look on the black side!

Robert came swiftly to the point. ‘We're very sorry to inform you all that the company is in some difficulty,' he said soberly. ‘The banks have called in our loans, and we can't continue living on credit any longer.'

A stunned silence greeted his words. ‘You've all been aware how things have been for some time, but it has come to the point where we can no longer pay our bills.'

Cryssie swallowed, feeling a tightening in her chest as she took in the news.

‘My brother and I have come to the conclusion that we shall have to discontinue trading. Despite all our efforts, events have overtaken us.' For an awful moment the old man looked as if he was about to cry!

Cryssie's knees started to shake. This was terrible—for all of them! It could be weeks, months, before they found other suitable employment. Jobs in this town didn't grow on trees! And what about the men and women in the workroom who'd been there for years and years? What chance would
they
have of starting afresh somewhere else? It took just a few seconds for all these thoughts to buzz around in her mind, like angry bees, and the knot of anxiety in her stomach grew rapidly into a huge ball of tangible fear.

Neil Lewis took up the story. ‘However, we've been approached by some interested buyers. They came unexpectedly some weeks ago, and it was an offer we couldn't refuse.' He looked around him steadily. ‘The new owners apparently intend letting things run as they are—for the moment. So your jobs are secure—for the time being, at least.' He took a sip of water from the glass in front of him. ‘Your new employers will be here in a few minutes. They're coming here to meet you all.'

Cryssie stared down at her clenched fists, trying to take in what had just been said and how it was going to affect
her
. Who could tell what was going to happen? Who would be made redundant? These new owners would undoubtedly make sweeping alterations…perhaps make her own position no longer ‘necessary'…Her degree course had taught her how common it was for takeovers to happen overnight, for staff to find themselves jobless. And that there was no legal requirement for them to be found other employment, or be given more than minimum financial redress. This small and cosy world would change overnight. It was inevitable.

An internal phone shrilled suddenly, and Robert stood up. ‘That's to tell me they're downstairs,' he said.

He left the room, and in the ensuing silence everyone shifted in their seats, no one uttering a word. Well, what was there to say?

In a couple of minutes the door opened and Robert came back in, followed by the new owner of Hydebound. Everyone stood up rather awkwardly to greet him—Cryssie having to grip the arm of her chair to steady herself, her heart jumping into her throat and the colour sweeping over her cheeks like an unstoppable incoming tide.

‘Let me introduce Mr Jeremy Hunter,' Robert said quietly, ‘who, together with his parents, owns Latimer's store in the town.' He paused. ‘So you will be in very safe hands, I'm sure.'

By this time Cryssie's mouth was so dry she thought she would choke! That she and Jeremy Hunter were to meet again like this, and in these circumstances, was something she would never have dreamed of in a million years!

He was formally dressed, as before, and in the revealing morning light he cut an imposing figure as he glanced around at each of them in turn, his dense black eyes seeming to penetrate the minds of everyone there.

Cryssie was the last to be introduced—which was just as well, because it gave her time to recover from the shocks of the last few moments. Her mind was doing somersaults! He caught her hand and held it for a few seconds in a strong grip, looking down at her, searing her mind with the intensity of his gaze. Cryssie could only guess what he was thinking, but it filled her with an indescribable sense of helplessness. The inscrutable expression on his face, his uncompromising mouth which remained unsmilingly set in a straight line, gave nothing away. But it made her feel like a small child on her first day at school!

After a moment, he said coldly, ‘I believe
we
have already met, haven't we?' It was a rhetorical question, coldly put. Then he turned away dismissively, and Cryssie wished she could just disappear. Especially as she was conscious of others' curious glances.

Although his remark couldn't be described as a put-down, it hadn't exactly been filled with the warmth of recognition, either! Well, after all she'd said about Latimer's, was that a surprise? She cringed at the memory. If there were to be any sackings, she'd be the first to go!

Jeremy Hunter only stayed for half an hour, apologising that his parents were away, so could not be there to speak to them. When he and the Lewis brothers had gone downstairs, everyone started talking at once.

‘I find it hard to believe,' Rose, the secretary, said at last. ‘We've all known things have been difficult, but I never thought the Lewises would throw in the towel.' She turned to Cryssie. ‘He said you knew each other. How come?'

Cryssie coloured up, and said hastily, ‘Oh, we don't
know
each other at all! We sort of bumped into each other in his store.' She paused. ‘I'm afraid I said some rude things about Latimer's, which he's not likely to forget or forgive. So I might as well hand in
my
notice now!'

At five-thirty that day, Cryssie was one of the last to leave the building, and she made her way across the dimly lit deserted car park where she always left her vehicle. She couldn't wait to get home, to hug Milo and give him his tea, then bath him and put him to bed. All the things that made her feel happy and contented. She knew that her news wouldn't have much impact on her sister, who didn't seem to think about anyone or anything but her own problems.

She was just about to get into her car when a footstep in the darkness nearly made her jump out of her skin.

‘Sorry,' Jed Hunter said. ‘I didn't mean to alarm you.'

She swung around and looked up to face him, only just able to make out his features in the dim light. But his eyes were visible enough, and they bored into her inescapably.

‘Oh, I—' she began, but he interrupted her.

‘I realise that you may have been…surprised…at this morning's news,' he said, ‘but I had specifically asked that no names were mentioned until I arrived.' He paused. ‘It was obviously a shock, but sometimes there's no easy way to deliver news of the sort you've all had—though I sincerely hope that this change in circumstances may prove to be not that bad in the long run.' His words were spoken with a calculating directness. He was a businessman, and there was not much sentiment in business. Cryssie was well aware of that!

‘Well, that rather depends on you and your future plans for Hydebound,' Cryssie said, swallowing hard and trying to display a coolness she was far from feeling—and wishing for some unaccountable reason that she wasn't wearing the same fawn jacket she'd been wearing on Christmas Eve!

She'd never been much interested in fashion, nor did she have Polly's dress sense. Whereas her new boss obviously took pains with
his
appearance. She was acutely conscious of the familiar scent of expensive leather from the loose, casual jacket he had on, carelessly opened to reveal the front of his gleaming shirt. By now her eyes had become more accustomed to her surroundings, and she could see that he had discarded his tie, exposing a strong, tanned neck.

He shrugged. ‘I thought I'd made it clear that it will be business as usual for now,' he said smoothly.

He continued staring down at her, and for once Cryssie was tongue-tied! She kept remembering how she'd gone on—not only about Latimer's, but about Hydebound, and what a good company she worked for…all the time not realising that the man intended buying them out! His little secret, she thought—and it might even have been
her
words which had convinced him that he was purchasing a good investment!

‘Well,' Cryssie said eventually, ‘I'm sure you will be able to rely on the staff to continue working as we always have done. Loyally, and to the best of our ability.'

‘Oh, I'm counting on it,' he said, and the perceptible jutting of his jaw as he uttered the words sent a small shiver down Cryssie's spine.

He was not likely to be swayed by any emotional feelings where the firm was concerned, she thought. It would be business—and strictly hard-headed business at that. The assistant at Latimer's had made it only too clear that he was someone who expected to get his own way and run things exactly as
he
wanted. And it had to be admitted that the Lewis brothers had not exactly moved with the times during the forty-odd years they had owned the company. In fact, its time-warp atmosphere was part of its charm—everyone said so.

She was about to get into her car when he moved forward, stopping her for a moment.

‘I do have a favour to ask,' he said slowly. ‘The Lewises have given me a pretty comprehensive idea of what I'm buying, but I'd appreciate a meeting with you—one-to-one—to get to the grass roots and hear things from another angle.'

Cryssie looked up into his face for a moment, trying to read what was behind the expression in those deep coal-black eyes. She hoped he wasn't anticipating that she'd give away any family secrets, or express a personal opinion about her colleagues. If he thought that he might learn something from her that the Lewises had deliberately not told him, he'd better think again!

‘Of course I can attend a meeting,' she said rather primly, in answer to his request. ‘We all have tomorrow off—New Year's Day—but I'll be at my desk the day after. It
is
work as usual then, isn't it?' she asked demurely.

‘Of course,' he said. ‘But I was thinking more on the lines of dinner somewhere. I always think that a relaxed meal and a glass or two of good wine brings out the best in most situations.'

He paused, and Cryssie felt her whole body tremble. She hadn't expected a
dinner
invitation—or
any
invitation—from her new boss, especially remembering their earlier acquaintance! How acutely embarrassing—and what on earth would her colleagues think when they found out? Especially Rose, who always seemed a bit jealous of Cryssie.

‘But how thoughtless of me,' he continued. ‘New Year's Eve is a time for couples, isn't it? I'm sure you have somewhere special lined up for tonight.'

She stared up at him blankly. ‘What…you mean…
tonight?
' she exclaimed in amazement. Surely he was inundated with invitations to glitzy parties? This particular night of the year was hardly the time to take an unimportant employee out—for a
meeting!

‘Certainly tonight,' he said implacably. ‘Unless, of course, you have better things to do. And there is Milo to consider…Would someone do the babysitting honours?'

Fancy him remembering Milo's name—that was at least one point in his favour! She looked up into that rugged, handsome face and smiled suddenly. It might be quite nice to go somewhere for dinner instead of always preparing it, she thought. ‘Babysitting's never any problem, Mr Hunter,' she said. Then, deciding that there was no point in hedging, because he was sure to find out sooner or later, added, ‘As a matter of fact I'm not married. I never have been.'