Snowbound Seduction (4 page)

She sighed as she pulled on her coat at the end of the day, after switching off her computer and tidying her desk. If she saw Zac again she'd be politely friendly, she determined, for Jennie's sake. She didn't like him—in fact, she'd never met a man she liked less—but that couldn't be helped and Jennie needn't know. And it wasn't as if he would be around for long anyway; she could force herself to be civil to the poor man for the short time he was in the country if their paths crossed.

It was raining again when she walked down the steps of the office building and her umbrella was safely
propped up in the hallstand at the flat. In the couple of years since she'd bought it, she'd only used it a handful of times, she reflected ruefully.

She had reached the pavement before she saw him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the building next door.

‘No umbrella again?' The velvet voice with its faintest of Canadian undertones mocked her wide-eyed surprise. As he reached her, he sheltered her under his own black monster of an umbrella. ‘Do you actually
like
getting wet through?'

He'd slipped a casual arm round her waist as he'd drawn her out of the rain and she was aware of feeling very feminine against his broad-shouldered bulk. Then the dumbness brought about by shock faded and she found her voice. Carefully pulling back so there was a couple of inches between them, she said tightly, ‘What are you doing here?'

‘Isn't it obvious? Rescuing a damsel in distress.'

‘I'm not in distress.'

‘You would be if you walked home in this lot.'

The rain was coming down faster now, thudding on top of the umbrella in great icy drops that annoyingly backed up his statement. Rachel swallowed hard. He smelt divine. Whatever his aftershave was, it was worth every penny. ‘How do you know where I work?'

Stupid question, she thought in the next millisecond.

His dry voice backed up the thought when he murmured, ‘Jennie. I rang her and asked for the address and told her I wanted to take you out to dinner.'

‘But—' She stopped abruptly, warning herself to be careful.

‘What?' His eyes under their thick black lashes surveyed her.

‘Jennie said you'd told her last night you were busy this evening.' And she could just imagine Jennie's reaction to the news when Zac had phoned. She stared into the strong face, her gaze taking in a slight cleft in his chin she hadn't noticed the evening before. She shivered. But not with cold.

He shrugged. ‘My plans changed. It happens.'

‘I—I can't have dinner with you.' Don't stutter and stammer, for goodness' sake, she told herself disgustedly.

‘Why not?' His tone was more interested than offended.

He was nothing if not direct. But there was no way she was going to be intimidated. She indicated her briefcase. ‘I have work to do tonight and it can't wait.'

‘That's OK, you can do it later.' He smiled, a slow, curving smile that made her stomach roll over and took the arrogance out of his declaration. ‘You would eat at some time tonight, why not with me? And you'll work better on a full stomach. I do.'

Hotly aware that several of her co-workers were giving them interested glances as they passed, she muttered, ‘Jennie's free tonight, ask her. I know she'd love to go to dinner with you.'

‘I don't want to have dinner with Jennie, Rachel. I want to have dinner with you,' he said softly. ‘And don't look at me as though I'm the Marquis de Sade. I'm suggesting dinner, that's all, and I promise you'll be safely delivered home later.'

Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut. How dared he? She was so taken aback by his effrontery she didn't know what to say for a moment. Suggesting
she was some nervous teenager scared at the thought of dinner with a man! ‘If we are talking straight here, you know full well why I won't have dinner with you,' she said tartly. ‘It must have been obvious Jennie likes you, surely? I wouldn't do anything to upset or offend her.'

‘And I like Jennie. She's my cousin, there are childhood memories and all that sentimental stuff. But I have no wish to date her, Rachel, and I won't pretend otherwise. I made that clear to Jennie today and she was quite philosophical about it, I promise. Her heart remains intact.'

He was laughing at her again—she knew it even if the tawny eyes were serious. She wished she had the will to turn round and walk away without another word, to cut him dead, but curiously she couldn't do it. Somehow she managed to make her voice cool and polite as she said, ‘Nevertheless, I don't think dinner is a good idea.'

Part of her was still numb with disbelief that he
wanted
to have dinner with her, especially when Jennie had made it clear how she felt. And then a thought occurred. Maybe that was exactly why he
had
asked her? If he didn't fancy Jennie then the best way to make it clear was to take another woman out.

‘I think dinner's a wonderful idea,' he said smoothly, ‘but let's discuss it in comfort, shall we?'

Before she knew where she was he had bundled her into the taxi that had been waiting at the kerb. She hadn't realised it was Zac's and as he slid in beside her she was tempted to exit the other side, but something in the hard male face told her he would simply haul her back in. She wouldn't put anything past him, she told herself bitterly before she said, ‘I'd like to go to the flat, please.' She glared at him defiantly.

‘And you shall. Later.'

Rachel hated the mocking lift to his voice. She listened as he gave the name of a famous restaurant a few blocks away to the driver. It cost an arm and a leg to eat there.

‘This could be termed kidnapping, you know,' she said stiffly.

His irritating eyebrows—irritating because they had a way of arching up in a manner guaranteed to provoke—rose. ‘Surely not,' he murmured lazily, turning to survey her with one arm along the back of the seat behind her head. He was wearing a heavy black overcoat, which intensified his dark maleness, and Rachel breathed out carefully. ‘I'm a stranger to your city and I'm asking you to spend a couple of hours with me over dinner, that's all. A good meal, a nice wine and a little conversation.'

Now he was making her feel like a worm. Deliberately, no doubt.

‘If I had asked Jennie, she would have assumed the evening would end in bed. It would have sent all the wrong signals and maybe caused a problem. I didn't want that. But I did want some company. Is that so terrible?'

She stared at him and his eyebrows did it again. Knowing she'd been beaten by an expert, she gave it one last try. ‘And what about the problem my having dinner with you might cause between Jennie and myself?'

He smiled a little grimly. ‘Jennie knows you don't like me very much. I doubt she'll lose any sleep tonight.'

She could feel the colour flooding her cheeks but couldn't do anything about it. She wasn't going to deny it, though. After a moment, she said carefully, ‘If you think that's how I feel, why would you want to spend some time with me?'

He tilted his head back and fixed her with the disturbingly beautiful eyes. Now he was so close she could see the golden brown had deep tawny flecks in it, like one of the big cats you saw on wildlife programmes. Combined with the thick black lashes, it made his eyes mesmerising.

‘I like a challenge,' he said simply. ‘That's all.'

‘Oh.' No one could accuse him of unnecessary sweet talk.

‘I'd like to bet that once you get to know me a little, you'll find I'm quite a reasonable sort of guy,' he continued, so seriously she suspected he was mocking her again. ‘You might even like me.'

Surprisingly she wanted to smile but firmly quelled the impulse. If there was one thing Zac Lawson
didn't
need, it was encouragement. ‘You're very sure of yourself.'

‘And that's something you don't like.' Suddenly there was no amusement under the surface. ‘Was he like that?'

‘He?' She'd frozen and she saw the cat eyes registering the fact. Careful, she warned herself. Don't let you guard down.

‘This guy who let you down so badly,' he said quietly.

She didn't have to ask this time. ‘Jennie,' she stated stiffly. She could strangle her. What else had Jennie said?

He didn't deny it. ‘She said some guy led you up the garden path, that's all. No details except you're well rid of him.'

That said it all really. ‘It's past history,' she said briefly, hoping he would take the hint. ‘Finished with.'

He surveyed her for a moment more and then, to her
amazement, stretched his long legs, saying lazily, ‘They never make these things with enough leg room. For me, that is. Now, this restaurant was personally recommended and I understand they do a terrific 20-ounce steak with pepper sauce, but I'm reserving judgement. The steaks back home are second to none.'

It took her a moment to accept she was off the hook. A little shakily, she murmured, ‘I hope they do smaller ones too.'

Again his eyes locked on to hers. ‘They will do whatever you require them to do, Rachel.' A glimmer of a smile touched the firm lips. ‘I will make sure of it.'

She nodded, turning to look out of the window but without really seeing the brightly lit shop windows and scurrying commuters with their umbrellas. Funnily enough, she had no doubt whatsoever that people would always do what Zac Lawson told them and it was far from reassuring.

R
ACHEL
had heard about the restaurant Zac had chosen but had never ventured inside its exalted doors, mainly because it was the kind of place that didn't print prices on its menus and didn't stock a bottle of wine under forty pounds or more. It was still early, only half past six, but quite a few of the tables were occupied as they were shown to a secluded alcove where they could see the whole dining area but remain private. She was vitally conscious of the other customers and extremely thankful she'd decided to wear her new and expensive suit today and bring out her Gucci shoes and bag—mainly to instil confidence when facing Jeff. As it was, he had been somewhat sheepish, clearly regretting his outburst the day before and listening to her explanation about the sales team without interrupting.

‘Fancy a cocktail while we look at the menu?' At her nod Zac raised his hand and a waiter appeared like a genie out of a bottle. She listened to him order two champagne cocktails and then returned her gaze to the enormous embossed menu the waiter had placed in her hand after she'd been seated.

The menu was printed in several different languages but the words blurred as her head swam. It was hard to take in that she was sitting in these sumptuous
surroundings with Zac Lawson. She hadn't known he existed twenty-four hours ago, but from the moment she'd met him he'd invaded her thoughts whether she was awake or asleep. Which was difficult to come to terms with.

She took a deep breath as the cocktail waiter reappeared, thanking him as he placed a champagne flute in front of her. Zac held out his own glass so she was forced to do the same, and as they touched, he murmured, ‘To a pleasant evening.' And then he smiled, adding meekly, ‘Is that acceptable?'

She couldn't help smiling back. ‘I guess.'

‘At last,' he said, very softly.

‘Sorry?' She stared at him, puzzled.

‘I've been waiting for that first real smile.' He tilted his head slightly as he studied her. ‘I wasn't wrong.'

Was he going to be this enigmatic all night? ‘Wrong?'

‘I knew your smile would light up your face.'

That was
so
something Giles would have come out with. She knew her face had stiffened but she couldn't do anything about it. Charming, and delivered in such a way it didn't sound cheesy.

‘Whoops, I take it I've made another mistake. You're a woman who doesn't like compliments,' he said quietly.

Rachel stared at him for a moment as she tried to formulate a reply. ‘I like them if they're genuine,' she said at last, and she didn't care that it sounded rude.

‘And you think I wasn't being genuine?' he said thoughtfully. ‘Interesting. Very interesting.'

Had he taken lessons in being aggravating? She lifted her chin, determined not to ask him what he meant this time, and took a sip of her cocktail. It was delicious.
She'd had what had passed for a champagne cocktail before but it hadn't tasted anything like as good. This was in a league all of its own.

Zac's gaze had returned to his menu and after another sip she put her glass down and focused on the choice of food. By the time the ever-attentive waiter, who'd been hovering nearby, glided to the table she was able to order the smoked salmon and bean salad, followed by grilled chicken with honey-glazed figs in a manner that declared she was perfectly in control.

‘No steak?' Zac asked softly.

‘No, I prefer chicken.' Ridiculous, because she would probably have had a small steak but for him suggesting it earlier. She shook her head mentally at herself, marvelling that there was a whole side to her personality she hadn't known about, and a side she wasn't particularly proud of. She had to get a grip.

Zac ordered the smoked salmon too, followed by his 20-ounce steak, along with a bottle of wine from the wine waiter, and then settled back in his seat, a faint gleam in his eyes. It wasn't a gleam that inspired confidence and Rachel knew she'd been right to be wary when he said, ‘Are you always so prickly?'

‘Prickly? I'm not prickly,' she said immediately.

‘Defensive, then. Wary. Call it what you will.'

‘I'm not—' She stopped abruptly. She was so tense, her muscles ached. Something had to give, and considering he really hadn't done anything wrong it was her. She forced her vocal cords to form coherent words. ‘I'm sorry,' she said carefully, ‘I don't mean to be. This hasn't been the greatest year and perhaps I just need the Christmas break more than I knew.'

His eyes roamed over her face for a moment, and when he spoke there was no amusement in his smoky
voice. ‘I'm sorry too,' he said very quietly, ‘that it hasn't been a good year for you. Do you want to talk about it?'

She shrugged in what she hoped was a casual way. ‘I got involved with someone who wasn't what he seemed, to put it mildly. A couple of days after he proposed, his wife came to see me.' She pulled a face. ‘Big surprise.'

‘You didn't know he was married?' He'd sat up straighter.

‘Of course not,' she said, shocked.

He nodded. ‘No, of course not,' he murmured, almost to himself. ‘How long had you been seeing him?'

‘A few months.' She didn't want to do this. ‘Still, lucky escape,' she said with forced lightness. ‘At least I was able to walk away without any messy complications, unlike his wife.' She turned her head, glancing round the discreetly lit room. ‘This is a lovely place. If the food is as good as the decor, it will be wonderful.'

The rain was beating against the windows of the restaurant but in the womb-like surroundings all was soft music and muted conversation, the glass chandeliers overhead, fine linen tablecloths and gleaming silver cutlery and crystal creating an aura of cosseted comfort. Another world.

This time he didn't allow her to change the conversation so easily. Quietly, he said, ‘Do you still care for him?'

She brushed her hair off her shoulder and looked straight into his eyes. ‘No, not in the least. Within weeks I was quite clear about that, if nothing else. I just couldn't…' She paused, amazed her tongue had run away with her.

‘What?' He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed.

She swallowed. ‘I couldn't believe I could be with someone for so long and not suspect anything, not realize it was all false, make-believe. Giles was so plausible, so…' She shook her head. ‘Big learning curve,' she said brightly. ‘And what about you? Is there someone back in Canada? Someone special?'

Calm golden eyes held her. ‘No,' he said.

Rachel reached for her champagne flute and finished the rest of her cocktail. It had been a big mistake to come here with Zac tonight. He was too…Her brain failed to come up with a definition and she set her glass down carefully. Too everything. ‘So what's the business that's brought you over to England?' she asked, when the silence became uncomfortable. ‘If it's not confidential, of course.'

He'd relaxed back in his seat once more and now he smiled. ‘It's part business, part pleasure, to be truthful.'

She felt a frisson of something she couldn't name at the word ‘pleasure' and hoped desperately the golden eyes hadn't noticed anything. This really was ridiculous.

‘I'm here to liaise with a large manufacturing group about an advance in new technology—pick their brains, if you will. My father is aware the world is changing fast and the glass industry constantly needs to change with it. He's something of a visionary, if the truth be known, but he's rarely wrong. And I liked the idea of coming back to the old country and seeing again where I was born, looking up the old haunts and family too, of course. I haven't had a holiday for years, so I don't feel too guilty.'

She returned his smile, hers just a bit shaky, and as the waiter placed their first courses in front of them, she was glad of something to do with her hands. She didn't want to get to know Zac Lawson, she thought, panic-stricken. It was much too dangerous. He was the type of man it was far better to keep at a safe distance. Like at the other side of the world.

She took her first bite of the smoked salmon and bean salad. The thin strips of fish, cooked beans and salad were enhanced by a mustard dressing and dusting of mozzarella, and her taste buds exploded. ‘This is gorgeous.' She raised her eyes to see Zac studying her. ‘Absolutely gorgeous.'

‘Just what I was thinking,' he murmured softly.

Again, it ought to have sounded cheesy but it didn't, which was more scary than anything else. She took another bite of smoked salmon and wondered again how she had got herself into this mess. Act naturally, she told herself firmly. One of your strengths is being a good communicator, so communicate. Raising her head, she said brightly, ‘I take it you're intending to be home in time for Christmas? Your business will be finished by then?'

‘Sure thing. Christmas is a time for being where the heart is.' The tawny eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

Nice sentiment—if you knew where your heart was. Oh, stop the cynicism! she thought irritably. ‘It sounds like you're close to your parents. Any siblings?'

‘Nope, just me. They wanted more but it didn't happen and they chose not to go down the medical route. I spent lots of time at Jennie's house during my childhood, though, so I didn't miss out or get spoilt. What
about you? Having two sisters must have been fun. Do you see much of them now you're in London?'

‘Not a lot,' she said carefully. ‘My sisters are near in age so they've always tended to be a closed unit, more like twins really. They're married now and live a few doors from each other.'

He nodded. ‘What about your parents?'

‘My father died when I was little more than a baby, I don't remember him at all. My mother…' She hesitated. ‘She opened a flower shop after my father's death and has always worked hard to make it a success, so I didn't see too much of her. My grandma more or less brought the three of us up, but she died a few years ago after a short illness.'

‘And you miss her,' he said softly, his eyes intent on her face.

Oh, yes. She dreaded to think of the adult she might have become but for her grandmother. For every negative spoken about her by her mother, her grandma had spoken a loving positive. In the same way she'd always known her mother didn't like her very much, she'd known she was her grandmother's favourite and it had been balm to a little girl's bruised heart. ‘Yes, I miss her,' she said quietly. More than words could express.

Since her grandmother's death just before she had left university and she and Jennie and Susan had come to London, she had stopped returning home to Kent for Christmas. There had been no point. Her sisters were wrapped up in their own lives and virtual strangers to her now, and in previous years her mother had spent every Christmas re-emphasising in word and deed what a failure she considered her youngest daughter. Without her beloved grandmother as a buffer, home would have been unendurable.

From the first, she had maintained she was perfectly happy to stay at the flat and enjoy a quiet Christmas, but her friends wouldn't hear of it. Jennie and Susan had taken it in turns to invite her to their respective homes, and as both girls came from large friendly families the Christmas break had turned into something to look forward to rather than dread. Strangely, though, she found she missed her grandmother more at Christmas time than any other. Or perhaps it wasn't so strange.

Zac brought her attention back to himself when he said, ‘Christmas in my home town is always a big deal. Snow, carols, church on Christmas Day, followed by too big a lunch so we have to walk the dogs for hours in the afternoon to work up an appetite for high tea.' His voice was easy, relaxed, but she was aware his gaze was tight on her face.

Rachel got the feeling he was talking to give her time to compose herself, and she found she needed it. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Snow guaranteed, I suppose? It's very hit and miss here in the south of England. Susan lives near Scotland, though, and last year it was Christmas-card stuff. We even went on a horse-drawn sleigh ride.'

‘You spent Christmas with Susan's family last year? You didn't go home?'

Rachel bit her lip. She might have known he would pick up on it. Zac didn't miss a thing. ‘No, I didn't go home.'

He made no further comment, instead taking the conversation into less personal paths. They had covered politics, music, books and even the current economic climate by the time dessert—roasted peaches with butterscotch—was finished.

And gradually Rachel found she'd relaxed, mainly
because it was impossible not to with Zac. He was a fascinating and congenial dinner companion with a slightly wicked sense of humour, which was often directed against himself. She might have found this endearing but for the fact Giles had done the same thing, a charming ploy to hook the latest fish in Giles's case. As for Zac? Who knew?

Not that it mattered, she told herself, laughing at something he'd said. She wasn't involved with this man, unlike Giles, and didn't have to concern herself with whether he was the genuine article or not. After the champagne cocktail and two glasses of excellent wine, followed by a liqueur with her coffee, she'd come to the decision she had got into the habit of taking herself and the world in general too seriously. She was in fabulous surroundings with a drop-dead-gorgeous man on an evening out that definitely wouldn't be repeated—she was determined about that even if he asked for another date, which she doubted—and she should live for the moment.

And to be honest, she admitted to herself as she popped one of the to-die-for hand-made chocolates they'd brought with the coffee into her mouth, there was something very nice in being the recipient of so many envious female glances during the evening. Especially after the knock her ego had taken in the last months. Every woman who'd caught sight of Zac had done a double take. While that might become annoying in time, for a one-off like this evening it made her feel like the cat with the cream. It had been months since she'd felt as light-hearted as she did right now, months since she'd laughed without having to force the sound. Whether it was an act or not, Zac was very good at what he did. She had to give him that.