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.’