November Harlequin Presents 2(240)

There were still plenty of people taking advantage of a sit-down and a drink, and Cryssie plonked her bags down by a table for two in the corner. Then, going over to pick up a tray, she slid it along the counter, unable to stop herself choosing a sugary doughnut as well. She knew it would be ages before she got around to making supper, and Polly wouldn’t have done anything towards it.

She poured herself a large mug of coffee, and placed it on the tray, then moved towards the till. And from out of nowhere a deep voice—that deep voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Allow me,’ he said smoothly.

‘Pardon?’ Cryssie twisted around in confusion, and stared once more into the face of the man she now knew to be the owner of the store. ‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘Allow me to pay for your drink,’ he repeated slowly, as if making himself clear to a backward child. ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he added.

To her intense annoyance Cryssie felt the colour rising unstoppably in her child-like face. ‘Please—don’t feel—obliged—to do anything,’ she said, her voice cool despite her sudden rise in body temperature.

‘Oh, I don’t feel obliged, exactly,’ he replied, equally coolly, ‘but it would give me…pleasure…to settle your bill.’

‘Well, I can’t think why—’ Cryssie began, but he interrupted her.

‘Because of what happened earlier,’ he said, transfixing her with his impenetrable gaze. ‘I’m sorry that you weren’t able to purchase what you wanted just now.’

‘Oh, well, I…It doesn’t matter…’ she began—though it did matter. It mattered a lot. But at this precise moment it didn’t matter which one of them paid for her coffee, just so long as she could get it down her—and soon!

She indicated the table where her things were and, placing his own drink beside hers on the tray, he followed her across the room. They sat down, and he passed her the plate with the doughnut and set their coffees down. She noticed that the carrier bags with his shopping were nowhere to be seen…He’d probably off-loaded them on to one of his underlings to take care of!

She began to feel strangely self-conscious, sitting so close to this undeniably handsome man—so close that it was difficult for their knees not to touch beneath the small table! Not that his obvious heart-throb appeal was of the least interest to her, she told herself. That part of her life was in a state of permanent shut-down!

Now, she picked up her coffee and forced herself to meet Jed Hunter’s gaze over the rim of the mug. Of course, she reassured herself, these panicky feelings running through her were due to the fact that she was sitting in close—very close—proximity to the vastly wealthy owner of the store. He would naturally be a powerful member of the community—but what the hell? So what? She was one of his valued customers, and without people like her coming regularly through the doors he wouldn’t be able to afford his undoubtedly lavish lifestyle! So she should calm down, she told herself sternly.

He looked at her steadily while she put a piece of doughnut into her mouth. ‘What do you think of those…are they good?’ he enquired casually.

Cryssie swallowed before answering, dabbing some sugar from her lips. ‘This one’s not bad,’ she said coolly, ‘but the quality of the cakes and pastries here can be patchy. I’ve had some pretty dire ones in the past—most of them frozen, I suppose. You’d think a reputable store like this would cook them on the premises and serve them fresh, wouldn’t you? A trained monkey could dunk a doughnut.’ She took another bite and looked across at him again. ‘Would you like to try a bit?’ she asked, knowing full well what his answer would be! He was not likely to lower his prestige by sinking his teeth into a sticky bun! Certainly not sitting with someone like her!

Tilting his mouth slightly at one corner, he said, ‘No…thank you. I wouldn’t dream of depriving you.’ He paused. ‘There’s so little of you, you look as if you really need a square meal rather than a quick fix.’

Cryssie shot him one of the cold looks she knew she was capable of. What a colossal nerve! She knew she must look pale and tired—and who wouldn’t with the weeks they’d had recently?—but she didn’t like it pointed out! And certainly not by this complete stranger. Because that was what he was, after all.

‘Well, it’ll be some time before I have the pleasure of enjoying my “square meal”,’ she said icily, ‘because I still have to collect the poultry from the butcher before he closes on my way home, then make the stuffing and do the vegetables so that we can enjoy my…Milo…in the morning. See him open up his stocking.’