One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents

by Susan Stephens

  Dragging the box out, she wiped the fine layer of dust from the lid with a tissue, then removed the garment and, standing up, shook out the folds, holding it against her and staring at herself in the mirror. Well, the colour was still good, and, being of a satin-type material, it hadn’t attracted the attention of any moths, and the creases would press out okay. It had a simple boat-shaped neckline, and drop-waisted full skirt—which she knew was horribly old-fashioned—but that was just too bad. It was this or nothing. As for her feet, the best she could do was wear her flat brown summer sandals.

  Heaving a sigh, she stepped into the dress and zipped it up at the back. Well, it still fitted—that was something. But, gazing at herself honestly, she realised how naïve and—well…boring, she appeared. Impulsively, she shook her hair out from the band that held it back in a knot, and thought…no! That made her look like Alice in Wonderland! Well, there was no point standing there agonising, she thought. By the time she’d showered and pressed the dress His Majesty would be arriving!

  She stopped dead in her tracks for a second. Was all this really happening? she asked herself. The whole day was like a long, disturbing dream—and it wasn’t over yet!

  At precisely eight o’clock, a discreet tap on the door announced Jed Hunter’s arrival, and Cryssie hastily let herself out of the house before Polly could show any interest. She smiled briefly up at him as they went down the rather cracked and untidy garden path together, pulling her jacket protectively around her against the bitter wind.

  ‘I didn’t ring the bell in case it woke Milo,’ he said, as he handed her into the car.

  ‘Thanks,’ she answered, privately surprised that with no family of his own he should be that thoughtful. She nestled into the luxury of the soft leather seat, putting her head back and letting out a sigh of pleasure. This was living, she thought—even if it was probably the only time she’d experience it. She’d never even sat in a car like this, never mind felt herself floating along the tarmac so effortlessly—so importantly!

  He glanced across at her as they gathered speed. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind about tonight?’ he asked. ‘About leaving your little boy with a minder, I mean?’

  ‘Oh, my sister’s there. She lives with us. He’ll be fine,’ she added, closing her eyes momentarily, feeling a bit like Cinderella being taken to the ball. Except that at this stage of the plot she wasn’t supposed to be being escorted by Prince Charming—that should come much later! That, however hard she tried to think of this evening as a business date, the fact that she was sitting close—very close—to probably the most handsome man she’d ever set eyes on made it difficult for her not to want to enjoy herself. Even if she did find him annoying and imperious. She could not deny experiencing a frisson, a sensation, as any female would, and she was suddenly startled by a certain lustful intensity! This was something very new to her, and she must stifle it at once, she told herself fiercely. Wasn’t he the sort of man she would never again allow herself to feel anything for at all—ever?

  She shifted in her seat and he turned briefly to look across.

  ‘Are you comfortable enough?’ he asked. ‘Is the seat in the correct position for you? I can lower or raise it for you…’

  ‘No…no…That isn’t necessary,’ Cryssie said at once. ‘It’s fine, really.’

  He turned back to stare straight ahead, and Cryssie, looking at him covertly, was painfully aware of his hands, of his long fingers curled around the steering wheel, the strength of his taut thighs beneath the fine fabric of his evening trousers. She swallowed, trying to get a grip on this unlooked-for situation…and on her own senses! She didn’t want to feel this curious mix of excitement and trepidation. She just wanted to feel normal! There promised to be enough upheaval in her life with everything going on at work. As for him, he would certainly not have the slightest interest in her as a woman—that was the most obvious statement of the century! He could have his pick of the crop, and was still unmarried, clearly taking his time over deciding which lucky female would eventually bear his children. It was plain that tonight he was putting business before pleasure, asking this little Miss Nobody—with, as he thought, an illegitimate child—to accompany him on this night of all nights.

  Cryssie smiled inwardly. All his lady-friends, waiting hopefully by the phone for that longed-for invitation, would be disappointed! He was too interested in finding out more about the business he’d just paid good money for. That was what this evening was all about! And who better to spill the beans, to tell any unofficial secrets, than the employee he had so recently had a conversation with—the one who had proved unafraid to speak out?

  Presently, he said, ‘You’re unusually quiet this evening.’

  ‘It’s been a long day. I’m tired,’ she riposted defensively.

  ‘Of course…I’m sorry,’ he said at once. ‘I should have thought. I’ll buy you a pick-me-up shortly.’ He smiled in the darkness. ‘I’d be very disappointed not to have the privilege of hearing your opinions this evening.’

  Cryssie shuddered, but kept her cool. ‘Oh, you’ll get those,’ she replied stiffly. There was a muffled sound beside her, which she correctly interpreted as suppressed amusement.

  Neither of them spoke again for a few moments, and Jed contemplated the hours ahead. He could be in the company of any number of beautiful women—yet he’d felt impelled to ask this creature to spend New Year’s Eve with him! His eyes narrowed momentarily. He hoped the evening would be worth it…Maybe, maybe, it might prove even more useful than he’d thought at first.

  ‘Have you ever eaten at the Laurels before?’ he asked, breaking the silence peremptorily, and making her start visibly.

  ‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘Hydebound don’t pay those sort of wages—or at least they didn’t,’ she added mischievously, and she saw the corner of his mouth tilt crookedly in the way she was beginning to recognize. But he said nothing, leaning forward to adjust something in front of him, the sudden movement causing a drift of his aftershave to tease her nostrils.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed,’ he said smoothly. ‘And by the end of this evening I hope we will both feel that we understand each other a little more, and that our time has not been wasted.’

  The restaurant was an imposing-looking Georgian building in the local countryside, and they were met by the manager, who greeted Jed effusively as he took Cryssie’s jacket from her.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Hunter,’ he beamed, glancing covertly at Cryssie, taking in her appearance with one swift and critical glance. This was an unusual woman for one of the most dashing and important men on the planet to be escorting! Tonight of all nights! ‘Your usual table is ready for you,’ the man added purringly.

  Cryssie, intensely sensitive to any new surroundings, was immediately aware of the manager’s reaction to her. She knew she couldn’t possibly compare favourably with Jeremy Hunter’s women friends, but she’d already made up her mind that she was not going to let any feelings of inferiority bother her tonight. She was here for a formal reason, and it didn’t matter that any second glances they attracted were directed at the man sitting opposite her rather than at her. For he looked outstandingly handsome, she had to admit, the elegance of his dinner suit complementing his physique, his strong features, his glossy black hair. He must have women fawning around him all the time—though if he expected that from her he was going to be disappointed!

  Champagne arrived as if by magic, and the waiter filled Cryssie’s glass to the brim, before pouring half a glass for Jed.

  ‘Thanks, Simon,’ Jed said easily, and the man moved away. He raised his flute, and looked at Cryssie, his sensuous eyes glittering in the candlelight. ‘Let’s drink to Hydebound,’ he said coolly, ‘and to a prosperous future for all of us.’

  Cryssie raised her own glass and took two or three large gulps of the pale liquid, enjoying the feel of the bubbles in her mouth and throat, hardly able to believe that it was only a week ago that they’d bee
n sitting together at another table—though not in quite so imposing surroundings!

  She felt the expensive alcohol hit her stomach almost immediately, but it had the effect of relaxing her, and she put her glass down and looked around admiringly at the white-clothed tables, the discreet lighting, the valuable paintings on the walls, the luxurious drapes at the long windows.

  ‘Who were you really going to bring here tonight?’ she asked, feeling her guard slipping and not caring. Well, it was obvious! He’d been stood up—though she couldn’t imagine who would dare—and had decided on the spur of the moment to make use of the table he’d booked, and grill her about his new staff.

  He answered without hesitation. ‘I hadn’t intended bringing anyone,’ he said, his lip curling dismissively. ‘I have a table more or less permanently booked here—because I have a financial stake in the place. One of the perks of investing wisely,’ he added, not at all perturbed at her very personal question.

  ‘Oh,’ Cryssie said, rather childishly, hastily drinking some more of the wine. So Jed Hunter owned—or part-owned—this as well. He was Mr Big, all right!

  He’d hardly touched his drink, while her own glass was almost empty. He leaned across and refilled it for her, before taking up his large leather-bound menu and studying it for a few moments.

  ‘I’m going to have the lobster, followed by pigeon,’ he said matter-of-factly, as if he was describing sausage and mash!

  Cryssie said faintly, ‘Yes, that sounds…good. I’ll have the same.’

  The fact was, she’d never seen such a selection of food in her whole life, and it would have taken all the evening for her to make up her mind. But what was good enough for him was good enough for her!

  He gave their order to the hovering waiter, and watched her silently while she sipped at her champagne. She’d stayed true to type, he mused, and had responded in exactly the way he would have expected. He had not fazed her in the slightest. She was still in total control of herself, yet there was that air of naïvety that made him feel protective of her! Heaven alone knew where she’d got that dress from—though the colour suited her well enough. Her hair was drawn primly back, as usual, shining with obvious health and fresh shampooing, and not a hint of make up had been applied to her face. Nor was a single item of jewellery anywhere to be seen. He took in all these details with a certain sense of satisfaction. It was as if she’d almost gone out of her way not to impress him, he thought. A most unusual and refreshing female—and a type he hadn’t met before!

  As the evening went on she proved to be an engaging conversationalist, answering his questions about Hydebound and its staff without any apparent evasiveness, and with extremely loyal and affectionate remarks about the previous owners. There was certainly no gossip or snippets of scandal which he might have been interested in. She was obviously a very worthy member of staff, he decided—someone who could prove useful to him in the future. His eyes narrowed briefly. He could spot a bargain a mile off.

  ‘Why are you called Cryssie?’ he asked suddenly, as they started helping themselves to the delicately presented food which had appeared. ‘Is it Christine? Christina?’

  Cryssie sighed as she looked down at her plate. ‘I hate having to own up to my name,’ she said resignedly. ‘It’s…Crystal.’

  ‘So what’s wrong with Crystal?’ he asked mildly. ‘I like it. It’s…unusual.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right, then,’ she replied tartly. ‘But I don’t like it. It’s a silly name. How many people have you met called Crystal?’

  ‘Not many. Not any. But I still like it.’

  ‘Well, I’m not called Crystal. I’m called Cryssie.’

  ‘Okay, Cryssie. I’ll try to remember.’

  She looked across at him, at his teasing, dangerous eyes. ‘I shall have it changed properly one day,’ she said, stabbing a spear of asparagus with her fork. ‘I will.’

  ‘I’m quite sure you will…Cryssie,’ he said. ‘I can’t think that many of your plans come unstuck.’ He paused. ‘Do you have a grand life plan? I mean, you won’t be wanting to stay with Hydebound for ever, I suppose?’

  His question took Cryssie by surprise, and she shot him an anxious glance. The last thing she wanted was to be chucked out—or given the option to leave. She’d better watch what she was saying. Was this a veiled reference that he might not want her to stay? She shuddered briefly, trying to mix the unexpected—undeniable—pleasure of this evening with the upsetting news of the day.

  ‘You said you’re not married?’ he persisted.

  Before he could say anything more, she blurted out, ‘No, I’m not married, and I don’t ever intend to be! I have Milo to consider, as well as my sister, who is ill most of the time. They both depend on me, and on what I earn. And I’m paid enough—and happy—at Hydebound. So I don’t intend any immediate changes unless they’re intended for me,’ she added significantly, her heart missing a beat at hearing herself say those words. ‘As for a “life plan”, as you call it—well, the only one is for Milo, and his happiness.’

  He regarded her coolly for a moment. ‘Milo is lucky to have such a loving auntie,’ he said quietly, catching her on the wrong foot. Well, he was good at that!

  Cryssie looked away, biting her lip. ‘I…I didn’t say that Milo wasn’t my son,’ she said.

  ‘No, you didn’t. But I was studying the staff files this afternoon,’ he said casually, ‘and I saw that you live with your sister and her son. That’s why I felt able to drag you away from the family nest on New Year’s Eve.’ He paused. ‘Why? Is it a secret?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Cryssie said hurriedly, realising that of course he would naturally have been checking all the files. Could find out whatever he wanted. ‘The fact is…I actually look on Milo as my own son, and he’s as good as my own son, because I shall never have any of my own and I don’t want any. Not while I’ve got him. He loves me and I adore him, while Polly—my sister—really only lives for herself. And it’s not her fault, because she’s been ill since Milo was born and I don’t think it’s going to get any better. If anything should…happen…to her, I’d adopt Milo at once. So, since you ask, that’s my life plan,’ she added.

  Her own words suddenly made hot tears spring to Cryssie’s eyes. Of course she would love to have children of her own one day, who would grow up alongside her little nephew. But the bitterness of her past had tainted such plans for ever, had killed any trust in the honey-tongued male sex. She had believed every false word whispered to her during her six-month affair with the head of department in her very first job—a job she’d walked away from as soon as she’d realised the mess her life was becoming. And when she’d been offered employment by the elderly, kindly Lewis brothers she’d made another unconscious decision as well. That never again would she fall for the charms of a predatory and handsome employer who would use her not only in a business sense but in every other personal and emotional way too.

  Jed observed her closely as she spoke, noting her misting eyes and the brief tremble of her lower lip. This woman was obviously intelligent, thoughtful…But there was an elusiveness about her which he found curiously heart-warming. She was clearly able to take care of herself, yet there was a simplicity about her that he found rather charming…and surprisingly sensually stimulating. Well, it was New Year’s Eve—which might explain the sudden stirring in his loins!

  ‘Your life plan sounds a very open-and-shut case for a young woman of your age,’ he remarked casually. ‘What do you have against the marriage contract?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Cryssie replied shortly. ‘Just the long and winding road to reach that point. Never worth the trouble. Better to avoid it altogether.’

  ‘So…You’re happy to make do with second best?’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Cryssie said quickly.

  ‘Merely that all your maternal instincts seem directed towards someone else’s child. Bit of a waste, really. And no child needs two mothers.’

  ‘You can
look at it whichever way you like,’ Cryssie said tightly. ‘I’m completely happy with the decisions I’ve made.’

  He picked up his glass and looked at the barely drunk champagne. He’d heard about her life plan—but as for his own? Well, they certainly had one big thing in common, he and his dinner companion. No wedding bells! At least not until his pride had recovered from the mega-bashing it had experienced. His main preoccupation was the continuation of the family empire. He’d managed to convince his parents that he could actually be trusted to take up the reins, allowing them more time for themselves at last, and he was enjoying the challenges of each day, plus the undoubted satisfaction of being in almost total control of a successful and respected business where his word was law.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS almost midnight, and the atmosphere in the crowded restaurant was heady and expectant. After the meal was over, a young up-and-coming group had entertained the gathering with popular numbers, and one or two couples had attempted to dance in the rather restricted space. During a lull, Cryssie had noticed that the manager had come up to Jed and murmured something in his ear, then moved away to speak to one or two other couples.

  It was so warm and comfortable sitting here, Cryssie thought contentedly. Wining and dining had a lot going for it! She could get used to this sort of life! She watched the manager moving between the tables, and saw people glancing at their watches. Of course—the traditional countdown would soon begin. She supposed they’d all have to hold hands and sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’! How embarrassing would that be? A horrible thought suddenly struck her, and she glanced at Jed, who must have been watching her, because their eyes met almost immediately. She swallowed, offering him a faint smile. What if everyone started kissing each other as they watched the widescreen television, switched on in one corner of the room, and listened to Big Ben strike at midnight? Wasn’t it sort of expected on this occasion? Oh, no, please not that! she thought wildly. She would crawl under the table and die if she had to come into that close contact with her boss! But how could she act Miss Prim and Proper? It would look out of place, and very humiliating for Jed, if she cold-shouldered him and stood there like a lemon while everyone else in the room was slobbering over each other! This was one of those moments she was definitely not up to!