One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (120 page)

‘I'll be ready,' she said, her curtness of tone matching his. How quickly he could change his mood, she thought. He'd obviously liked Milo just now, and been interested in the little boy. But now it was back to business.

They were standing so close that one tiny movement would have brought them together. And, despite everything, every pore in Cryssie's body exuded a longing, a crushing desire, for him to hold her so tightly that breathing would be difficult—which it was at that moment!

Frantic with foreboding at the way her life seemed to be heading—an emotional path, running down hill—she implored silently, Please go now, Jed! Please!

With a sudden strong movement he opened the door to let himself out into the night, and with barely a nod of his head he walked away down the path.

She watched him go before quietly shutting the door and switching off all the lights, then made her way slowly up the stairs.

But sleep wouldn't come that night, and she lay there, inert and confused. Confused at the realisation that Jeremy Hunter had reawakened her feminine desires in a way that terrified her. She did not want this—she did not
need
it! Not after all her good intentions! But her life was becoming horribly linked with Jeremy Hunter, and she felt trapped between their financial needs and her emotional dilemma.

Silently, in the darkness, the tears began to flow. Hot, wretched tears she'd not known for three years. Because she knew that the first man to kiss her for so long had done so in sheer frustration at her stubbornness. It had been nothing more than that. It was not desire, or lust, even—but white hot frustration that had driven Jeremy Hunter to momentarily overpower her. It was unthinkable that any woman should try to thwart the great man's ambitions!

Rolling away in the taxi, Jed found his emotions churning. Over recent years he had developed a secure and satisfying shell around himself which he was determined that nothing and nobody would ever break. He was safe, impervious, emotionally water-tight.

Yet ever since Ms Crystal Rowe had crossed his path he had been in danger of falling off the emotional safety net…She had an annoying habit of getting to him! He wouldn't easily forget the look on her face—a look of pure devastation—when he'd given her the news about his hotel plans.

He'd spent that evening alone at the pub, going over and over everything they had both said yesterday and much more importantly—remembering their unexpected clinch! What could he have been
thinking
of? He cursed under his breath, remembering his lack of restraint, but acknowledged that he had been gripped by something unstoppable. The fire in her eyes as she'd accused him of low behaviour towards Hydebound had lit a fire in
him
—a fire which had turned frustration into a boiling passion, however fleeting. He dwelt again on those few moments, and his lip curled slightly at the memory. Because he knew she had shared that passion. It had been all too recognisable! He had felt her melt into him unashamedly, just long enough for him to be acutely aware of it. And, however much she tried to portray herself as self-sufficient, determined, aloof, she was no disinterested female. That day the blood in her veins had run as hot and uncontrolled as his own!

O
N THE
following Sunday morning, Cryssie followed Jed along the heavily carpeted hallway of an imposing block of flats until they reached a door at the end. Going inside, he went immediately over to the huge bay window and pulled the expensive drapes back, to allow the wintry midday light to fill the corners of the room.

Cryssie tried not to let him see the expression on her face as she looked around. It was an obviously male abode, unfussy but opulent, furnished with a couple of sofas and a deep armchair, two or three low tables, and a massive flatscreen TV in the corner. A large gilt-framed mirror over the fireplace reflected the series of London prints on the wall opposite, and one or two valuable ornaments graced the ornate mantelpiece.

Jed threw his laptop onto the chair, and turned to Cryssie. ‘This is my pad—my bolthole when I'm in London,' he explained briefly. ‘It's a useful tool, and much more comfortable than booking in to dreary hotels all the time.'

‘A useful tool' was hardly what Cryssie would have called it! ‘It's very…nice,' she said, rather lamely. ‘Obviously conveniently situated.'

‘Oh, it's served its purpose over the few years since I bought it,' he said ‘It's good for entertaining business associates from time to time.' He glanced at her. ‘We'll go next door to Renaldo's for something to eat in a minute, but do you want to see around the place?' he asked. ‘I know you women are interested in such things.' He went across the room. ‘This is the bedroom—with small dressing room attached—and here's the bathroom, plus one airing cupboard, and over here, the kitchen.' He smiled down at her. ‘I've only ever prepared coffee and toast here—oh, and a couple of omelettes, if I remember rightly.' He paused. ‘When I entertain, the chef at Renaldo's, the bistro next door, usually does the honours. Sends everything up—no problem. Much less fuss all round.'

Cryssie was impressed. This must have cost a fortune. Then she shrugged inwardly. What did it matter? As long as he prospered, then at least for now her own chances were rosy! But she still couldn't help feeling uneasy at her situation. What was she letting herself in for? she asked herself, over and over again. Because she knew she wouldn't ever be able to trust the man. And—much, much worse—could she trust herself? She had to admit that sometimes her common sense threatened to be outweighed by her susceptibility to Jeremy Hunter, even though she was desperately trying to keep her distance.

He sat down and opened his laptop. ‘There are one or two things I need to check up on,' he said, not looking at her. ‘You make yourself at home.'

Cryssie went into the bathroom, glancing at herself in the long mirror on the wall and smiling briefly at her own appearance. Her simple black suit, bought many years ago, had stood the test of time. It had a classic cut and teamed with her ivory shirt, created an unfussy, neat look which she felt was perfect for today.

Polly had insisted on lending Cryssie her special earrings—large, round, faceted studs, which caught the light as Cryssie moved. And they did seem to add something special to the overall effect, she had to admit.

On their journey Jed had explained that the client they were meeting owned property which the Hunters wanted to buy. But apparently bargaining would be tough.

‘What's my part in this?' Cryssie had wanted to know.

‘Just to listen and take accurate notes,' Jed had replied. ‘It's essential to have all the details on record. And I can't remember every single thing that's said.'

He looked up as she went back into the sitting room, his glance sweeping the length of her body. He liked her in that suit, he decided instinctively. It made her look discreetly attractive—and she had on some sort of funky jewellery which glamorised her dainty features. He'd love the chance to dress the woman, he thought, really spoil her. Then his face darkened. Those were dangerous lines to think along—he'd done that before, and look where it had got him.

Suddenly his mobile rang, and he turned away to answer it, his expression darkening as he listened. Watching him, Cryssie realised that she was beginning to read the man like a book. Something didn't please him!

‘Okay—yes, I see…Well, thanks for letting me know.' He snapped the phone shut and looked over at Cryssie. ‘That's a damned nuisance,' he said shortly. ‘The client has gone down with some mysterious bug or other…so that makes today a complete waste of time, I'm afraid.'

He pursed his lips, clearly irritated, and Cryssie said quickly, ‘Never mind—these things happen,' thinking that,
good,
they could go straight back home!

His brow cleared then, and he appeared to relax. ‘We won't let the day slip through our fingers,' he said. ‘After lunch we'll have a stroll along the river—perhaps go down to the Serpentine.' He glanced out of the window. ‘The sun's coming out, and it's not too cold…we may as well enjoy ourselves and salvage something from an abortive assignment.' He turned to look at her again, and paused. ‘Do you think we could be two human beings, rather than the employer from hell and his reluctant employee?' he asked gravely, and Cryssie felt herself being helplessly swept along with his plans. ‘It'll give us some time to get to know each other—to understand each other a bit more. If we're going to be working closely together we need to get close…If you see what I mean.'

Cryssie swallowed. Of course what he was saying made sense, and she smiled up at him quickly. ‘I've only ever been to London once,' she admitted, ‘and I'd love to walk along the Thames. You can point out everything to me as we go.' She was suddenly enlivened by the idea of a historical tour, a day out, and he seemed pleased at her words.

‘Great,' he said. ‘But a spot of lunch first, I think.'

Next door at Renaldo's they went down a long flight of stairs to a table set in an alcove. The rather dimly lit surroundings added a sensuous feel to the occasion—even at this hour of the day. Cryssie leaned forward, her elbows on the table, and cupped her chin in her hands.

‘I can't really believe I'm here, doing this,' she said slowly.

Jed's dark eyes glinted in the half-light. ‘Why—what's the problem?' he asked, knowing very well what she was talking about.

‘Well, you know, everyone else at work is in a state of…shock—wondering what the future holds for them—and I'm, well…'

‘Sitting pretty? Stop worrying,' he said roughly. ‘Life's full of these ups and downs. You just go with the flow.' He poured them some water, darting a quick glance at her. She was a strange mixture, he thought to himself. Very mature in many ways, but in others unconfident and naïve. He was going to enjoy showing her around town, giving her a day off from family responsibilities.

They enjoyed a delicious pasta meal, and a bottle of Chardonnay, then took a cab to Trafalgar Square, which was crowded with sightseers, and hundreds of pigeons scattering everywhere to pick food up from the ground, before flying off in vast numbers at head height. Cryssie ducked anxiously a few times, and Jed looked down at her quizzically.

‘These things don't bother you, do they?'

‘A bit,' Cryssie admitted. ‘I've always been afraid of anything that comes too close to my face.'

‘Hmm…I must try and remember that,' he said enigmatically, and Cryssie coloured at the remark.

‘Don't you have any hang-ups?' she asked. ‘Most people do.'

‘Nah…not really,' he said easily. ‘Though I wouldn't volunteer to spend the night, alone in a room with a couple of poisonous snakes.' He grinned down at her. ‘Do you want to do some window-shopping? Or some real shopping? There are bound to be most places open.'

‘I'd love to walk down Oxford Street,' Cryssie said. ‘But window shopping will do me fine.'

Strolling along the wide pavements together, in an afternoon which had become unusually mild, Jed kept wondering why he was feeling so—contented. So complete. The day was
meant
to have been about finalising an important business deal, not whiling away the time in a totally non-productive way. But he was enjoying himself! There were no pressures, no clients to convince, and he was getting a curious satisfaction out of Cryssie's delight in being here. Watching her as she stared at everything in the huge window displays made him wonder where she'd been all her life…she was like a child on Christmas morning!

Suddenly, he turned to see a tour bus bearing down on them and, grabbing Cryssie's hand, he made her trot behind him towards a nearby stop. ‘Come on,' he said. ‘You'll see more if we ride.'

Together they got on, and Cryssie went upstairs, followed by Jed, who pushed her along to the vacant seats right at the front. He could hardly believe he was doing this!
How
long was it since he'd been on a bus? Cryssie's excitement was infectious as they passed all the famous sights.

‘I'm ashamed that at my age I've never seen all this before,' she said eagerly. She glanced out of the window. ‘You obviously know it so well, it must be boring for you to spend time doing this, Jed.'

‘I'm not bored at all,' he replied at once, knowing that he could sit in the corner of a corporation car park with this woman and not be bored! And for the life of him he couldn't explain it. He was conscious of the warmth of her against his shoulder and thigh as they sat there close, and he forced himself to edge away, giving them both some distance.

Presently the route was completed, and they got off the bus and began to stroll across one of the nearby parks, mingling with other couples and families who were enjoying the relaxation of Sunday.

‘Uh-oh, I can feel spots of rain,' Jed said suddenly, glancing upwards, and within a few minutes they found themselves caught in a heavy downpour. ‘Quick,' he said, shrugging off his casual jacket and covering Cryssie's shoulders with it.

‘Jed—there's no need—' she began, but he silenced her.

‘My shirt'll soon dry off—what you've got on will take longer. Come on—let's run for it.' And together they made their way as quickly as they could towards the main road.

Laughing and gasping, they hailed a taxi and, sitting alongside her, Jed said, ‘You won't want to be late getting back, will you? Back home to Milo…?'

With a start, Cryssie realised that she hadn't even thought of Milo, or Polly, or anything much else, for the last few hours. The thought came as quite a shock!

‘Um, well, not too late, I suppose, Jed. Though I did say I didn't know when we'd be back,' she said.

He smiled to himself. ‘Good, then we'll go back to the flat and maybe get Renaldo to send us up a meal later—unless you'd rather go out somewhere? There are plenty of smart restaurants I could show you.'

Cryssie looked up at him quickly. ‘No—I'm happy to stay in,' she said. ‘I'm feeling quite tired.'

The rain had caught them by surprise, and Cryssie's hair hung in wet curls on her shoulders, while Jed's was plastered thickly to his forehead. He ran his fingers through it, shaking his head like a dog, and Cryssie couldn't help laughing. ‘Hurrah for English weather,' she said, and Jed grinned down at her.

He knew she couldn't care less about having her appearance mucked up, and he was beginning to realise that her total lack of vanity was a very appealing trait. He was not used to that kind of female!

They arrived back at the flat, and Cryssie flopped down on the sofa, half closing her eyes for a second or two. ‘Wow,' she murmured. ‘London's terrific—but tiring.'

Jed switched on several table-lamps, which gave the room a distinctly cosy glow, and glanced across at her. ‘Do you want to lie down for a bit? There are a couple of phone calls I need to make, then I'll fix us a drink before we order our supper.'

Cryssie thought of that comfortable-looking bed, and succumbed! ‘Just for five minutes, then,' she said, thinking that he probably wanted to phone in private.

In the bedroom, she slipped off her jacket, skirt and shoes, and stretched out on the soft covers. It was heaven! Letting her thoughts drift for a moment, Cryssie found herself wondering just how many women had shared this bed with Jeremy Hunter. He said he usually used the place for business purposes, but it was obviously also ideal for bringing home whichever female took his fancy at the time.

She opened her eyes lazily, letting her gaze wander around the room. Strangely, it had a more feminine feel than the rest of the flat, with satin cushions dotted about, and some dainty pictures on the wall. Without really thinking what she was doing, Cryssie slid off the bed and went noiselessly across to the adjoining small dressing room. Carefully, she opened the door to one of the fitted wardrobes—and her suspicions were confirmed! Hanging there was a beautiful pink satin dressing gown, and a pair of soft, fluffy mules, decorated with sequins, lay carelessly on the shelf beneath.

Shrugging, Cryssie quietly clicked the door shut and climbed back onto the bed. Jeremy Hunter had other reasons for acquiring this place—so what? she thought. He was a free man, and anyway—
she
had no reason to care one way or the other!