Gentlemen Prefer...Brunettes

by Fielding, Liz

Damn, damn, damn. She fastened the button of her jeans as she slithered down the thick carpet of the main stairs, heading for the kitchen and the telephone.

  ‘What on earth was that all about?’ Nick demanded as she punched in the number.

  She swung round, hand outstretched, daring him to come any nearer. Then, realising that her blouse was still hanging open, she grabbed the front of that instead. ‘ “Trust me.” That’s what you said, Nick. And then… How could you? Not half an hour ago you were planning to share that bed with Veronica—’

  ‘Actually I wasn’t—’

  ‘—but she saw right through you. Well, me too. A bit late in the day perhaps, but then I’m short on that kind of experience. Although what little I’ve had should have put me on my guard.’

  ‘Really?’ Nick’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘And just what are you accusing me of, Cassie?’

  ‘You didn’t call a taxi, did you, Nick? Veronica might have walked out on you but you still had me, so there was no need to change your plans for the evening…’ Her voice ground to a halt as he made a move towards her, her throat drying.

  ‘Have you quite finished?’

  ‘No!’ Then she said, less vehemently, ‘Yes.’ What more was there to say? Then she frowned as a voice in her ear vied for attention.

  ‘This is Melchester Taxis; can I help you?’ Something about his tone suggested it was not the first time the man had said this.

  ‘What? Oh, yes, please. Can you send a taxi to Avonlea Cottage in Little Wickham?’

  ‘Avonlea Cottage? Hold on.’ There was a moment while Nick and Cassie continued to glare at one another. ‘We despatched a taxi to that address about ten minutes ago; it should be with you any time.’

  ‘No, that’s already left—’ Her voice died as the doorbell rang. Very slowly, she turned, and through the kitchen window saw a bright ‘TAXI’ sign lit up on top of a car standing outside the front door. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Madam?’

  Cassie shook her head, unable to speak, and Nick took the receiver from her limp fingers, apologised for the confusion and hung up.

  ‘Now, what were you saying, Cassie?’ he enquired softly. And, completely ignoring the man at the door, he leaned back against the refrigerator, folded his arms and regarded her in a manner that suggested nothing else was going to happen until he had had an explanation.

  But what could she say? Sorry? I’m not very good at relationships which is why I do my best to avoid them? Somehow she didn’t think he’d want to listen to the sad and sorry tale of her failure in that department even if she’d been prepared to tell him about it. Instead, she slowly and carefully buttoned the front of her blouse.

  ‘I think I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Goodbye, Nick.’

  She was halfway across the kitchen before Nick spoke. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something, Cassie?’ She picked up her basket. ‘I was thinking of your shoes,’ he said.

  He was laughing. Damn it, he was laughing at her. Well, he could laugh all he liked; she wasn’t sticking around to be the butt of his humour one more minute.

  ‘Hang them on the wall as a reminder of the one that got away,’ she said, without turning round. And she didn’t stop walking until she reached the taxi.

  She half expected Nick to follow her with her footwear, but he didn’t. She’d banged the door of the cottage shut behind her and it stayed that way. Apparently he’d got the message.

  ‘College Close,’ she instructed the driver as he pulled away from the cottage. And she only looked back once.

  Nick didn’t see that. He was too busy making the first of several telephone calls.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CASSIE didn’t get much sleep that night, but then she hadn’t expected to. Instead she spent the long hours checking that she had everything she might possibly need, then repacking it. Then checking it again. Anything to stop herself from thinking about what had happened. And when she’d stopped doing that she started worrying.

  That helter-skelter flight down Nick’s stairs hadn’t done her ankle any good at all and she didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to predict that she’d blown any possibility of the services of a driver and tent-erecter, even if she could have accepted them.

  But those problems were nothing to the memory of how she had responded to Nick. It had been so swift, her desire so overwhelming. If only he hadn’t pretended, lied. Another minute and she would have been past caring, beyond the reach of that nagging little voice that told you when you were making a complete fool of yourself.

  She’d promised herself that she would never again allow her heart to rule her head. All that had died with Jonathan. And because she wasn’t emotionally built for casual sex she allowed her family and friends to believe a part of her had died with him. Well, in a way it had. The part that could take a man at his word, believe him when he looked into her eyes and promised her the earth. Only a complete fool would fall for that a second time.

  So she’d thrown herself into her career and hard work combined with a lot of luck had taken her to the top. She loved it. And until today it had been enough. But today she had wanted Nick, wanted him enough to throw all those years of caution to the wind. And it didn’t make any sense at all. Just because she’d got it wrong about the taxi that didn’t change the facts. A girl in the hand was worth any number of unavailable blondes and Nick Jefferson wasn’t to be trusted further than she could throw a sack of flour.

  Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t make the slightest difference to the way she felt. Hormones had no sense and hers had been kept on a short lead for a long time. Now they had been so unexpectedly reminded that their proper function was to make a thorough nuisance of themselves, they were off like some stupid, adolescent Labrador who had just been given a taste of freedom, playful and eager for fun and absolutely refusing to come to heel.

  She got up the moment the sky began to shimmer with a pre-dawn glow. Going to bed had been one of those automatic things, something you did even when you knew it was going to be a waste of time on the off-chance that you might be proved wrong, and Cassie was grateful to the sun for rising so early to put her out of her misery.

  She made a pot of coffee, took it out into her little courtyard and watched the day begin. Dem joined her, curling up on the other chair, making it seem less empty.

  She reached out to rub one of his slightly ragged ears, but for once Dem’s soft purr failed to work its magic. As a cat he was the best. He might just be a saggy old mog, but he was the keeper of her secrets, a friend who would never let her down.

  He was, however, still a cat and his conversation was limited to a range of purrs that started just above inaudible and rose to something resembling a Harley under full throttle when he caught a whiff of smoked salmon. Until this week, it had seemed enough. But suddenly her tall, beautiful house seemed very quiet and horribly empty.

  Not that that would last for long. Matt would be along in an hour or so with the children and she’d better be ready for them. A hot shower would help—heaven alone knew when she’d get another—and a proper breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and a raid on the store of marmalade she had made for Christmas presents. Then she looked at the table and pulled a face. Who did she think she was kidding? A proper breakfast? This was comfort food. And she needed every mouthful.

  Matt’s arrival with the boys lifted her spirits a little, but her brother-in-law seemed to sense that something was wrong and assumed that it was cold feet. As they gathered on the step so that the boys could say goodbye, and despite the fact that she was making a valiant attempt not to limp, he was staring down at the strapping around her ankle with a frown.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be able to manage?’ he asked, for the fifth time in less than a minute. She was just about to reassure him, yet again, that she would do just fine, when they both turned to stare at a minibus reversing up the Close.

  The cathedral Close was definitely not a minibus kind of place. Particularly not at seven-thirty in the
morning, and Cassie knew that Nick, despite everything, had come through for her. Her heart gave a little lift at proof of his generous spirit.

  As it came to a halt outside her house and Nick himself turned to look out of the driver’s window, the lift became a lurch. Last night she had been convinced that she didn’t want to see him, ever again. But being face to face with him put her right about that piece of self-delusion. It had been the thought of not seeing him ever again that had been making her so miserable. Was that better? she asked herself. Or worse? Whatever it was, she was hard-pressed to contain a grin of Cheshire cat proportions.

  ‘Everyone ready?’ he asked briskly, opening the door and jumping out so that, but for the briefest of moments when the minibus had come to a halt, he did not have to look at her. The urgent need to grin evaporated.

  Worse. It was far worse. He didn’t want to be here; he was just being noble.

  ‘Isn’t that Nick Jefferson?’ Matt murmured. ‘I didn’t know that you and he…’ If Cassie’s heart had not already been in her boots it would have sunk to them. Even without looking she knew that Matt had a great big ‘what’s going on here, then?’ grin on his face.

  ‘We’re not,’ she said, without any confidence that he would believe her.

  ‘Does Lauren know?’

  She was right. ‘Of course not…’ Then, ‘You know him?’ she asked, startled into looking around, and she was right about the grin, too; her brother-in-law was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘I’ve met him at the occasional business dinner,’ he said, then chuckled. ‘You sly old thing, Cass. No wonder you couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Just wait until I tell Lauren…’

  About to deny that there was anything to tell, she decided that it was a waste of time. Matt wouldn’t believe it…and there was nothing like a little sensational gossip to jump-start the conversation. They might even get around to remembering how it had been for them. How it could be again if they gave it the chance. She crossed the pavement. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she demanded, in a fierce whisper.

  Nick shrugged. ‘You’ve got three boys to take care of and since, in the absence of grandmotherly support, I’ve got my sister’s girls I thought it might be a good idea to combine our efforts?’

  ‘Girls?’ Cassie looked past him and realised that she was being solemnly regarded by four pairs of luminous grey eyes, each pair framed by a straight fringe and neat bob of fair, shiny hair. His sister’s children.

  ‘Sadie, Bethan, Emily and Alice,’ he said, introducing them. ‘Say hello to Cassie, girls.’

  ‘Hello, Cassie,’ they chorused shyly.

  Cassie thought her heart might melt, they were so lovely. But quite what Mike, Joe and little George would make of them—more importantly how they would feel about sharing their holiday with something as yucky as girls—was something else.

  ‘Stay there, ladies, while we load up,’ Nick said, giving the girls his killer smile, something he had obviously decided was wasted on her, Cassie thought. And who could blame him? Taking her consent to his high-handed plan for granted, he crossed to Matt and stuck out his hand. ‘It’s Matt Crosbie, isn’t it? I thought I recognised you.’

  He looked down at the boys. They hadn’t seen the girls yet, Cassie realised, and the two youngest were looking up at Nick with something approaching awe. Mike, who seemed to understand what this trip was all about, was ignoring his father and not being exactly friendly towards her. He was wearing that bored expression that suggested nothing could impress him, not even a real live Jefferson.

  Four little girls might seriously dent that laid-back, couldn’t-care-less attitude if they put their minds to it, she decided, and after all found herself having to suppress a smile.

  ‘Mike, Joe and George,’ Cassie filled in brightly. ‘This is Mr Jefferson, boys.’

  ‘That’s a bit formal, why don’t you just call me Nick?’ he invited. ‘I hope you don’t mind a bit of company on your trip but I thought your aunt could do with a hand this week.’ The little ones beamed. Mike, on the other hand, found something excessively interesting about the toes of his trainers. ‘Maybe you could start by carrying these things out to the van for her?’ Nick prompted.

  Ignoring Cassie’s urgent shake of the head, Nick opened up the rear of the van for them and Joe and little George almost fell over themselves to co-operate. Mike remained slouched against the doorpost.

  ‘Can you bring that box, Mike?’ Nick asked, pointing to a large carton of groceries that Joe was struggling to pick up. ‘It’s too heavy for Joe.’ Mike glared at his father, glared at Cassie, then pushed his brother aside and picked up the box and carried it across to Nick. He didn’t take it. ‘There’s plenty of room in there,’ he said, leaving the boy to deal with it himself. ‘You’ll make sure everything’s stowed properly, won’t you?’ he added as George staggered up with a small box. ‘Don’t bother to bring all that camping gear, Joe. I’ve got everything we’ll need.’ Then he rejoined Matt who was watching the procession of goods disappearing into the van with a touch of anxiety.

  ‘I hope there’s nothing breakable in those boxes.’

  ‘Eggs,’ Cassie offered.

  ‘If the boys break them they won’t have any for breakfast,’ Nick said matter-of-factly as Mike practically threw the box into the van. ‘And since you don’t eat more than organic yoghurt and a banana for breakfast it’s hardly going to worry you, is it?’ Cassie’s cheeks heated up under Matt’s amused scrutiny and she wanted to explain that Nick only knew what she had for breakfast because she’d told him. But since she knew she would be wasting her breath she didn’t bother. ‘Cassie tells me you’re off to Portugal, Matt.’

  ‘Just a short break.. Look, this is very good of you, Nick. To be honest Lauren was a bit concerned about Cass going off on her own and now with her ankle…’

  ‘Exactly my own thoughts.’

  ‘Will you please not talk about me as if I’m not here?’ Cassie asked.

  ‘If it offends you,’ Nick suggested, his voice teasing for Matt’s benefit, his eyes not making the same effort, ‘why don’t you make a final tour of the house and make sure everything is locked up? Anyone could climb over that back wall and break in.’

  She glared at him. ‘Not when I’ve got the alarm switched on, they couldn’t. And if they tried our extremely vigilant neighbourhood watch would soon sort them out.’ What a pity they didn’t sell burglar alarms for the heart. Still, until this week she’d have sworn she didn’t need one. And now it was too late. She gave Matt a hug and a little push. ‘Go. You’ll miss your plane. Give my love to Lauren. And give her yours, too,’ she added meaningfully.

  ‘Yes, I’d better be going. Here, I won’t be needing these.’ And, hanging onto his own car keys, he handed back the keys to Cassie’s little sports car.

  ‘Oh, but—’

  Matt glanced at the minibus with a grin. ‘You won’t be needing the estate now, will you?’

  I do, she thought. I do! But Matt was already striding across the pavement, a lot happier about leaving the boys with her now that he thought she had company. And she could always rent a car. Or even go along with Nick’s crazy plan. There was no reason not to since it was clear he’d lost all interest in making passes at her; his only interest was in making her feel bad. Not that he needed to do that; she felt quite bad enough already.

  ‘Goodbye, boys. And do try and behave,’ Matt said, ruffling their hair as he climbed back into the big Mercedes estate that she had been going to borrow for the trip. Mike ducked to avoid his hand.

  ‘Have a good time,’ she called, encouraging the boys to wave as he drove off, putting off for as long as possible the moment when she would have to turn and face Nick.

  But he had already moved away and was checking the boys had loaded the minibus properly. He’d come to help her out as he’d promised, but he wasn’t going to pretend he liked it. So she went inside, not to check the windows and doors, but so that she wouldn’t have to watch
the way the low sun was filtering through his hair as he pushed it back off his forehead; so that she didn’t have to notice the way the collar of his polo shirt curved away from his neck, the way it clung invitingly to his back to display the powerful paired muscles.

  ‘Ready?’ Cassie had been staring out of the French windows, trying to decide what was the best thing to do, and she jumped as he came up behind her. ‘You should take something for those nerves,’ he said.

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with my nerves. I was thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh? I’d give a penny for those thoughts.’

  ‘Don’t be cheap, Nick. They’re worth at least a pound if you take inflation into account.’

  ‘You strike a hard bargain, but go on, surprise me.’

  ‘There won’t be enough food for all of us,’ she said briskly, gathering herself, relying on practicalities to save her.

  ‘I dare say I can manage a trip to a supermarket,’ he said. ‘I’m beginning to get the hang of them.’

  ‘You’ve never tried it with seven children in tow.’

  ‘We could rope them together—’

  ‘You don’t have to do this, Nick.’ She turned and looked up at him, desperate for him to understand. But how could he, when he didn’t know? ‘It’s kind,’ she rushed on, before he could say anything. ‘More than kind, after the way I behaved last night—’

  ‘The least said about last night the better.’ He reached out as if about to touch her arm, then apparently thought better of it as she flinched away from him. ‘We made a deal,’ he said abruptly. ‘You kept your part of the bargain, I’m here to keep mine.’

  ‘But last night…last night was not a success.’

  ‘That was my fault, Cassie, not yours.’

  Beth had asked him when he was going to grow up. Now he knew. He just hoped it wasn’t too late. He’d grown up during an apparently endless night when the only thing on his mind was how to convince Cassie that he loved her. When, last night, he had said it, he had been just as shaken as she had been. But it was inevitable, after that stupid stunt with Veronica, that she had thought he was simply stringing her a line to get her into bed.