Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set

by Barbara Wallace

  Jack stared at it and frowned. ‘Money?’

  ‘No, not money.’

  He picked up his coffee and glanced around. Her flat surprised him. It was so small. Still, it was comfortable. Her clothes weren’t cheap knock-offs either. No, Caro looked as quietly opulent as ever.

  She perched on the tub chair opposite him. ‘You seem a little hung up on the money issue.’

  Maybe because when they’d first met he hadn’t had any. At least not compared to Caro’s father.

  Don’t forget she was disinherited the moment she married you.

  She hadn’t so much as blinked an eye at the time. She’d said it didn’t matter. She’d said that given her and her father’s adversarial relationship it was inevitable. And he’d believed her.

  He bit back a sigh. Who knew? Maybe she’d even believed the lie back then.

  ‘Perhaps we should clear that issue up first,’ she continued.

  ‘You didn’t have to buy cake on my account, you know.’

  He wished she hadn’t. Her small acts of courtesy had always taken him off guard and left him all at sea. They’d oozed class and made it plain that she’d had an education in grace and decorum—one that he’d utterly lacked. It had highlighted all the differences between them. He’d lived in fear of unknowingly breaking one of those unknown rules of hers and hurting her.

  You hurt her anyway.

  And she’d hurt him.

  He pushed those thoughts away.

  Caro gazed at him and just for a fraction of a second her lips twitched. ‘I didn’t buy cake on your account.’

  She forked a mouthful of honey roll to her lips and while she didn’t actually close her eyes in relish, he had a feeling that deep inside herself she did.

  ‘This cake is very good. Jean-Pierre is a wizard.’

  That must be the baker’s name. She’d always taken pains to find out and then use people’s names. He’d found that charming. Once. Now he saw it for what it was—a front.

  ‘But if you don’t want it please don’t eat it.’

  He leaned towards her, his frown deepening. ‘You never used to eat cake.’

  ‘I know! I can’t believe what I was missing.’ Her eyes twinkled for a moment and her lips lifted, but then she sobered and her face became void of emotion. ‘But people change. Five years ago you wouldn’t have been at all concerned with the threat of me taking you for half of all you owned.’

  He’d worked hard during the last five years to make a success of his security and private investigation firm. Such a success, in fact, that if he were still alive even Caro’s father would sit up and take notice. He sat back. It seemed he’d been making money while Caro had been eating cake. It summed them up perfectly.

  ‘Five years ago I didn’t have anything worth taking, Caro.’

  She looked as if she might disagree with him, but after a moment she simply shook her head. ‘Let me waste no further time in putting your mind at rest. I don’t want your money, Jack. I never did. You should know that yesterday I was named as my father’s sole beneficiary.’

  Whoa! He straightened. Okay...

  ‘As we’re still married I expect you could make a successful claim on the estate. Do you wish to?’

  His hands clenched to fists. ‘Absolutely not!’

  She shrugged and ate more cake. ‘You haven’t changed that much, then. Earlier today I’d have staked the entire estate on you not wanting a penny.’

  Damn straight! But her odd belief in him coupled with her utter lack of concern that he could have taken her for a financial ride pricked him. ‘So, this pickle you’re in?’

  She set her plate down, clasping her hands to her knees. ‘Jack, I’d like to hire you for a rather...delicate job.’

  He tried to hide his shock.

  ‘But before we continue I’d like an assurance of your discretion and confidentiality.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have asked me that once.’ She’d have taken it for granted.

  ‘True, but when you walked away from our marriage you proved my trust in you was misplaced. So I’m asking for an assurance now.’

  He glanced down to find his knuckles had turned white. He unclenched his hands and took a deep breath. ‘I should warn you that if this “delicate” matter of yours involves murder or threats of violence then I’m honour-bound to—’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Of course it doesn’t. Don’t take me for a fool. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a fool.’

  He bit back something very rude. Bending down, he pulled the divorce papers he’d had drawn up from his satchel and slapped them onto the coffee table.

  ‘I don’t want to do a job for you, Caroline. I simply want you to sign the divorce papers and then never to clap eyes on you again.’

  Her head rocked back, hurt gleamed in her eyes, and that soft, composed mouth of hers looked so suddenly vulnerable he hated himself for his outburst.

  She rose, pressing her hands to her waist. ‘That was unnecessarily rude.’

  It had been.

  She glanced at her watch. ‘As interesting as this trip down memory lane has been, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have to be somewhere shortly.’ She picked up the papers. ‘I’ll have my lawyer read over these and then we can get divorce proceedings underway.’

  ‘And you’ll draw the process out for as long as you can to punish me for refusing this job?’ he drawled, rising too.

  Her chin came up. ‘I’ll do nothing of the sort. You can have your divorce, Jack. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.’

  A weight pressed down on him, trying to crush his chest. It made no sense. She was promising him exactly what he wanted.

  With an oath, he sat again.

  Caro’s eyes widened. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Finishing my coffee and cake. Sit, Caro.’

  ‘Really, Jack! I—’

  ‘It’s hard, seeing you again.’

  Her tirade halted before it could begin. She swallowed, her eyes throbbing with the same old confusion and hurt that burned through him.

  The intensity of emotion this woman could still arouse disturbed him. It was as if all the hard work he’d put in over the last five years to forget her and get his life back on track could be shattered with nothing more than a word or a look. He couldn’t let that happen. He straightened. He wouldn’t let that happen.

  ‘No woman has ever made me as happy as you did.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘Or as miserable. I wasn’t expecting the lid to be lifted on all those old memories. It’s made me...testy—and that’s why I said what I said. It was a mean-spirited thing to say. I’m sorry.’

  Finally she sat. ‘It doesn’t make it any less true, though.’

  ‘It’s not true. Not really.’ He didn’t look at her as he said it. ‘I expect things will be more comfortable once we put this initial meeting behind us.’

  ‘I expect you’re right.’

  She frowned suddenly and glanced a little to his left. With a swift movement she reached down and picked up... His cufflinks!

  Jack bit back a curse. They must have fallen from his case when he’d pulled out the divorce papers. He could tell from the way her nostrils suddenly flared that she recognised the box. They’d been her wedding present to him when he’d said he’d prefer not to wear a ring—rose gold with a tiny sapphire in each that she’d claimed were nearly as blue as his eyes. He’d treasured them.

  His glance went to her left hand and his gut clenched when he saw that she no longer wore her wedding ring.

  Without a word she handed the box back to him. ‘You really ought to be more careful when you’re pulling things from your bag.’

  He shoved the box back into the depths of the satchel. ‘Tell me about this job you’d like me to do for you.’

  He didn’t owe her for her signature on their divorce papers, but if by doing this he could end things between them on a more pleasant note, then perhaps he’d find the closure he so desperately
needed.

  ‘And, yes, you have my word that I will never reveal to another soul what you’re about to tell me—unless you give me leave to.’

  She stared at him, as if trying to sum him up. With a start he realised she was trying to decide whether to trust him or not.

  ‘You don’t trust my word of honour?’

  ‘If you’re after any kind of revenge on me, what I’m about to tell you will provide you with both the means and the method.’

  He didn’t want revenge. He’d never wanted revenge. He just wanted to move on with his life.

  And to kiss her.

  He stiffened. Ridiculous! He pushed that thought—and the associated images—firmly from his mind.

  ‘I have no desire to hurt you, Caro. I hope your life is long and happy. Would it ease your mind if I didn’t ask you to sign the divorce papers until after I’ve completed this job of yours?’

  She leaned back, folding her arms. ‘Why is this divorce so important to you now?’

  ‘I want to remarry.’

  She went deathly still. ‘I see.’

  She didn’t. It wasn’t as though he had a particular woman in mind, waiting in the wings, but he didn’t correct the assumption she’d obviously made. It was beyond time that he severed this last tie with Caro. He should have done it before now, but he’d been busy establishing his company. Now it was thriving, he was a self-made success, and it was time to put the past to rest.

  If Caro thought he’d fallen in love again, then all well and good. It would provide another layer of distance between them. And while he shouldn’t need it—not after five years—he found himself clinging to every scrap of defence he could find.

  ‘Well...’ She crossed her legs. ‘I wish you well, Jack.’

  She even sounded as if she meant it. That shouldn’t chafe at him.

  ‘Tell me about this job you want to hire me for.’

  He bit into the cake in an effort to ignore the turmoil rolling through him and looked across at her when she didn’t speak. She glanced at the cake and then at him. It made him slow down and savour the taste of the sweet sponge, the smooth cream and the tiny crunch of sugar.

  He frowned. ‘This is really good.’

  Finally she smiled. ‘I know.’

  He’d have laughed at her smugness, but his gut had clenched up too tightly at her smile.

  She leaned forward, suddenly all business. ‘I’m now a director at Vertu, the silver and decorative arts division at Richardson’s.’

  ‘Right.’ He didn’t let on that he knew that. When they’d married she’d been only a junior administrator at the auction house.

  ‘Yesterday I placed into my father’s safe a very beautiful and rather valuable snuffbox to show to a client this morning.’

  ‘Is that usual?’

  She raised one elegant shoulder. ‘When selected customers request a private viewing, Richardson’s is always happy to oblige.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘When I went to retrieve the snuffbox this morning it wasn’t there.’

  He set down his now clean plate, his every sense sharpening. ‘You have my attention.’

  ‘I put it in the safe myself, prior to the reading of my father’s will.’

  ‘Which took place where?’

  ‘In my father’s study—the same room as the safe.’

  He remembered that study. He nodded. ‘Go on.’

  Her expression was composed, but she was twisting the thin gold bangle on her arm round and round—a sure sign of agitation.

  ‘The fact that I am sole beneficiary came as a very great shock to both Barbara and I.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Your father and Barbara have remained married all this time?’

  ‘Yes. I believe she loved him.’

  Jack wasn’t so charitable, but he kept his mouth shut.

  ‘When Barbara retired to her room, the lawyer gave me this letter from my father.’ She rose, removed a letter from her purse and handed it to him. ‘More cake?’

  He shook his head and read the letter. Then he folded it up again, tapping it against his knee. ‘He thought she was stealing from him.’

  Knowing Roland Fielding, he’d have kept a very tight rein on the purse strings. What kind of debts could his lovely young wife have accrued that would have her risking being caught red-handed with stolen goods?

  ‘He was wrong. It wasn’t Barbara who was pilfering those bits and pieces. It was Paul.’

  ‘Paul is still working...?’ He blew out a breath. ‘Shouldn’t he have retired by now?’

  She pressed her hands together. ‘My father wasn’t a man who liked change.’

  That was the understatement of the year.

  ‘And, to be fair, I don’t think Paul is either. I suspect the thought of retirement horrifies him.’

  The bangle was pushed up her arm and twisted with such force he thought she’d hurt herself.

  ‘He and Barbara have never warmed to each other.’

  ‘And you’re telling me this because...?’

  ‘Because Paul was putting all those things he’d taken—’

  ‘Stolen,’ he corrected.

  ‘He was putting them away for me.’

  Jack pressed his fingers to his eyes.

  ‘He was as convinced as I that I’d be totally written out of the will. He thought that I might need them.’

  He pulled his hand away. ‘Caro, I—’

  She held up a hand and he found himself pulling to a halt.

  ‘If Barbara finds out why my father wrote her out of the will and that Paul is responsible, she’ll want him charged. I can’t let that happen—surely you can see that, Jack? Paul was doing it for me.’

  ‘You didn’t ask him to!’

  ‘That’s beside the point. I know Barbara has been wronged, and I mean to make it up to her. I intend to split the estate with her fifty-fifty.’

  He let the air whistle between his teeth. ‘That’s very generous. You could probably buy her silence for a couple of million.’

  ‘It’s not generous and I don’t want to “buy her silence”! I want her to have half of everything. Half is certainly far more than I ever expected to get, and I’m fairly certain she won’t begrudge me it.’

  Was she?

  ‘Where does the snuffbox come in?’

  She hauled in a deep breath. ‘During the middle of the night Barbara removed the jewellery from the safe. As it’s all hers she had every right to remove it.’

  He straightened. ‘Except the snuffbox went missing at the same time?’

  She nodded. ‘When I asked her about it she claimed to not have seen it.’

  ‘But you don’t believe her?’

  Her fingers started to twist that bangle again. ‘She was upset yesterday—understandably. She wasn’t thinking clearly. I know she wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt me, but my father has treated her so very shabbily and I suspect she panicked. I fear she’s painted herself into a corner and now doesn’t know how to return the snuffbox while still maintaining face.’

  ‘And you want me to recover said snuffbox without her being aware of it?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  It should be a piece of cake. ‘What happens if the snuffbox isn’t restored to Richardson’s?’

  ‘I’ll lose my job.’ She let out a long, slow breath. ‘I’ll never work in the industry again.’

  He suddenly saw what she meant by revenge. Her job had been more important to her than starting a family with him. Now he had the potential to help destroy all the credibility she’d worked so hard to gain in one fell swoop. The irony!

  ‘Worse than that, though...’

  He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Worse than you losing your job?’

  Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘Richardson’s prides itself on its honesty and transparency. If I don’t return that snuffbox there will be a police investigation.’

  ‘The scandal would be shocking,’ he agreed.

  ‘For he
aven’s sake, Jack—who cares about the scandal?’ She shot to her feet, hands on hips. ‘Barbara does not deserve to go to jail for this. And Paul doesn’t deserve to get into trouble either.’

  They were both thieves!

  ‘This mess is of my father’s making. He forces people into impossible situations and makes them desperate. I won’t let that happen this time around. I won’t!’ She pulled in a breath and met his gaze squarely. ‘I mean to make this right, Jack. Will you help me?’

  He stared at her. This woman had dashed all his most tightly held dreams. Five years ago she’d ground them underfoot as if they hadn’t mattered one iota. The remembered pain could still make him wake up in a lather of sweat in the middle of the night.

  He opened his mouth.

  His shoulders slumped.

  ‘Yes.’

  Since when had he ever been able to say no to this woman?

  * * *

  Caro tiptoed past the disused pantry, and the butler’s and housekeeper’s offices—both of which had been vacant for as long as she could remember. The kitchen stretched all along the other side of these old rooms, with the small sitting room Paul used as his office on the other side of the kitchen. She’d chosen this route so as to not disturb him, but she tiptoed just the same. The man had bat-like hearing.

  Lifting the latch on the back door, she stepped out into the darkness of the garden, just as she’d promised Jack she would. She glanced around, wondering in what corner he lurked and watched her from. Feigning indifference, she lifted her head and gazed up at the night sky, but if there were any stars to be seen they were currently obscured by low cloud.

  She knew from past experience, though, that one rarely saw stars here—the city lights kept the stars at bay and, as her father had always told her, star-gazing never got anybody anywhere in life.

  ‘Tell that to astronomers and astronauts,’ she murmured under her breath.

  ‘Miss Caroline?’

  Paul appeared in the kitchen doorway. Caro wiped suddenly damp palms down her skirt. No one was supposed to see her out here.

  ‘Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.’