Seduction Never Lies(22)

'Really?' he drawled. 'So, what's the objection?'

There was an odd note in his voice which gave Tavy the sudden feeling  she was teetering on the edge of a precipice she had not known existed.

She said, stammering a little, 'Because it would be cruel-unless you were serious about her.' She paused. 'Are you?'

'Not in the slightest,' he said. 'Any more than she's serious about Patrick.'

'That's absurd. She came back here to be with him.'

Jago shook his head. 'She came back because she couldn't afford her  London lifestyle, and was being pressured by her parents. In order to  keep her around, her father has even become a silent partner in that  school, supplying her with a career and a future husband in one move.

'He even wants to buy a piece of my land as a playing field, to save  the little darlings a walk to the village. I refused his first offer.  This is the second,' he added, putting the letter in his pocket. 'I'm  seriously tempted to see how high he's prepared to go.

'Although he's wasting his time and money, with me and Fiona, who has  no intention of staying around once the divorce is finalised.'

'How can you possibly know that?'

'Something she let slip on our way to the Willow Tree that night, along with a none too subtle hint that she was available.'

His smile was charming but edged. 'And the offer's still there, so, if  you want Patrick, all you have to do is be patient. Give him a shoulder  to cry on and wait for him to see the light.'                       
       
           



       

Tavy drew a shaky breath. 'That's disgusting.'

'And I thought I was being practical.'

'But what about your...Barbie,' she demanded, stumbling over the name.  'Will she understand the...practicalities, when she finds out?'

'If she finds out,' he said calmly, 'she'll undoubtedly be furious with me. But it wouldn't be the first time.'

'I can imagine.' She shook her head. 'People like you. How do you live with yourselves?'

'Money,' he said, 'is a great palliative.' He paused. 'And while we're  being practical, did you warn your father you'd be working late and he'd  have to self-cater?'

She shook her head. 'He's playing chess tonight with a friend in the village. Supper is included.'

'In which case, you're having dinner with me.'

She gasped. 'I'm doing nothing of the kind. I'd rather...' She stopped abruptly.

'You'd rather starve,' Jago supplied silkily. 'But I'm sure that would contravene some Factories Act or Child Labour ruling.'

She said sharply, 'I'm not a child.'

'Then stop behaving like one. We have matters concerning the house to  discuss, so treat it as a business dinner. I've brought food with me.'

She stared at him. 'You have? Why?'

He said slowly, 'Because I suddenly decided I'd like to dine in my own  home. Idiotic but true.' There was a silence, then he added more  briskly, 'There's a rug in the Jeep, so we'll have a picnic. I suggest  the dining room floor.'

She said jerkily, 'No-I won't. I couldn't.'

'Because you think I won't keep my hands to myself?' Jago sounded  amused. 'Darling, you're my employee so anything untoward and you can  sue me for sexual harassment. You'll never need to work again.

'Also,' he went on, 'there's a lot of serious panelling in the dining  room. It's hardly the right setting for an orgy. And as you so rightly  pointed out, there is Barbie to consider.

'Anyway,' he added piously. 'Aren't you expected to welcome repentant  sinners back to the fold? I'm sure your father would think so.'

She bit her lip again, aware of a perilous bubble of laughter suddenly  rising inside her. Even though there was nothing to laugh at. 'But only  if the repentance is genuine.' She paused. 'Besides, you obviously  thought you'd have the place to yourself and I'm butting in.'

He said gently, 'If you were, I wouldn't have suggested you stay. Now I'll go and get the food while you finish your printing.'

It seemed the choice had been taken out of her hands, thought Tavy, her  disapproval-not only of his total lack of morality but also his  high-handed arrogance-tempered by the realisation that her sandwich had  been a long time ago and she was, in fact, extremely hungry.

She was closing down the computer when Jago called to her.

She sat for a moment, staring into space, then whispered, as she stood up, 'I should not be doing this.'

She arrived at the dining room door and stopped, her brows lifting in sheer incredulity. 'Candles?'

There were four of them, burning with steady golden flames in the tall  silver candlesticks placed at a safe distance round the corners of the  rug.

'My predecessor sold the chandelier along with everything else, so the  room needed some kind of light.' Jago was kneeling, unpacking a hamper.  'I bought these last week and thought-why not do it in style?'

She said shakily, 'Why not indeed-except it's not dark yet.'

He sighed. 'Stop nitpicking, woman, and lend a hand.'

There wasn't just food in the hamper. There were plates, dishes,  cutlery, even wine glasses, all in pairs, strongly suggesting that he  might have hoped Barbie would indeed be there.

Instead, she thought, he was settling for second best-if she even rated that highly.

Don't think like that, she adjured herself fiercely. You're not taking  part in some competition, but just filling in time before the rest of  your life, so remember it.

She watched Jago arranging the food on the rug. There was smoked trout  pâté, chicken pie, green salad with a small container of French  dressing, plus a crusty baguette, butter and a bottle of Chablis. While,  to round off the meal, there was a jar of peaches in brandy.

He looked across at her, his smile faintly crooked. 'Will this do?'

'It looks wonderful,' she said. 'Like a celebration.'                       
       
           



       

'That's just how I wanted it to be.' He drew the cork from the wine and  poured it, handing her a glass. 'To Ladysmere,' he said. 'A phoenix  rising from the ashes.'

'Yes,' she said. And all because of you. She thought it, but did not say it. 'It-it's a special moment.'

He said softly, 'Yes it is, and thank you for sharing it with me.'

The tawny gaze met hers, held it for an endless moment.

And Tavy felt her heart give a sudden, wild, and totally dangerous  leap, as she raised her glass and echoed huskily, 'To Ladysmere.'





CHAPTER TEN

THE WINE WAS cool and fragrant in her mouth, and she was glad of it.  Grateful too for the niceties of cutting bread and butter and pâté,  which gave her a chance to steady her breathing, and generally get a  grip on herself.

As they ate, she said, deliberately choosing a neutral topic, 'Sir  George's cousin. Why did he strip everything out of the place if he  wanted to sell it?'

Jago shrugged. 'From his incoherent ramblings when we met in Spain, I  gather he'd given up all hope of a sale and opted for making a fast buck  out of the remaining contents instead.

'He even tried to dismantle and flog the four-poster from the master bedroom, but fortunately that couldn't be shifted.'

'Oh,' Tavy said. 'So that's how it got damaged.'

'Yes, but I'm assured it can be repaired and I'm having a new mattress  specially made.' His face hardened. 'He also confided that he hoped  vandals would set fire to the house so he could claim on the insurance.'

Tavy gasped. She said hotly, 'I'm only glad Sir George never knew how vile he was.'

'You liked him, didn't you?'

Outside the window, the sunset light was fading. In the massive room,  the picnic rug had become a small bright island in a sea of shadows. And  in the flickering light of the candles, Jago's dark face was all planes  and angles as he watched her.

It was as if they were in total isolation, cut off from the rest of the  world. Not close enough to touch, yet lapped in a strange and potent  intimacy.

Something was flowering deep inside her-a wish-a longing that they  could stay like this for ever, his gaze locked with hers. Except that  was no longer enough, because her body was stirring at the memory of his  hands touching her, and her lips parting beneath his.

Pushing such thoughts away, she rushed into words. 'Sir George?  Everyone liked him. He was a dear man and so good to the village.'

'A lot to live up to,' Jago said lightly as he cut into the pie.

Tavy said quickly, 'Oh, but nobody expects...' and stopped, her face warming.

'Nobody expects much from a degenerate ex-rock musician,' Jago supplied  drily, placing a generous wedge of pie on a plate and handing it to  her. 'Well, I can hardly blame them.'

She bent her head. 'I didn't mean that. It's just that the locals were  sad, I think, that Sir George didn't have a son to come after him and  hoped that Ladysmere would be sold to a family so there might be-I don't  know-a new dynasty, perhaps.' She forced a smile. 'Unrealistic, I  know.'

'Very. For one thing, if there were children around, the lake would  need to be fenced off.' He added softly, 'And that would be a pity,  don't you think?'

The lake...

She was thankful he could not see how her colour had deepened. I'll never live that down, she thought helplessly. Never.