November Harlequin Presents 2(248)

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 been 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.’