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‘I was just saying that it’s not the end of the world. Of course, you shouldn’t have lost your temper, but sooner or later Jack is bound to realise that he is mostly to blame for what happened today.’
‘Fat chance!’ Laura gave a derisory snort of grim laughter. ‘Even if he does eventually forgive me—and I’m quite certain that he never will—I still don’t have a job. And not much prospect of getting another one, either,’ she added glumly. ‘If only I hadn’t bought that smart, glamorous apartment in Soho! Even if Jack does give me a generous pay-off, without regular employment I’ll never be able to keep up the mortgage payments. Maybe...’ she looked hopefully around the large, superbly equipped kitchen ‘...I could come and work for you...?’
‘No way!’ Amy laughed and shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, love. You know I’ll do anything I can to help, but you’ve never been interested in cooking, and it’s a bit too late to start now. Besides, there’s a world of difference between messing around in your own kitchen and catering full-time for businessmen’s lunches in the City.’
‘Yes, I know. But...’
‘The idea is a complete non-starter,’ her sister said firmly. ‘I can handle the amount of work I’ve got at the moment, mainly because it fits in so well with the children’s school timetable. But, if I took you on, I’d also have to expand the business in order to pay you a living wage. Which in turn would mean spending less time with the boys. And, quite apart from my own feelings, I also know that Tom wouldn’t be at all happy about the situation.’
‘You’re quite right,’ Laura agreed quickly, ashamed of having been so selfish and only concerned with her own problems. Amy’s husband, Tom, was a very kind and easygoing, if somewhat absent-minded history professor at London University. But even he could be expected to cut up rough if his small sons began to see less of their mother.
‘However, I can probably help out with your mortgage—for a few months, anyway.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ Laura protested. ‘I wouldn’t dream of letting you do anything of the kind. I was just worried about what was going to happen in the future, that’s all.’
‘Well, I think you ought to keep on working in your own profession. You’ve been really happy and successful at looking after your clients. So why turn your back on the theatrical world just because you’ve had a row with Jack Wilder?’
‘Because I’m quite certain that he’ll do his best to see I’m blacklisted,’ Laura told her grimly. ‘I know Jack—he never forgives or forgets an injury. Just look at what happened to Donald Hunt,’ she added as she slipped off the stool and made her way to the door.
‘Donald Hunt?’
Laura shrugged. ‘It’s ancient history now, of course, but he was one of Jack’s original partners in the agency—together with their accountant, David Martin, who died in a car crash some years ago. Nobody knows exactly what went wrong between Donald Hunt and Jack. However, it’s rumoured that there was an almighty bust-up because Donald had a torrid affair with Melissa Grant, who was Jack’s wife at the time.’
‘I never knew that Jack had been married to Melissa Grant!’ Amy exclaimed in amazement. ‘She’s a wonderful actress, of course—and stunningly beautiful. Isn’t she starring in that award-winning play at the National Theatre? We’ve been trying to get hold of some tickets, but it’s completely sold out for the next three months.’
‘Yes, well...dear Melissa—who may be beautiful, but is said to be a first-class bitch, and has just left her fifth husband—was apparently married to Jack for only a very short time before becoming fatally involved with Donald. The story is that Jack not only divorced his wife and dissolved the partnership but also made certain that no other agency would give Donald Hunt a job.’
‘Are you sure about this?’
Laura shrugged. ‘Well, I must admit that I don’t know the full facts. But it seems that fairly soon after Donald and Jack split up Donald inherited a fortune from his father—who’d apparently been a big cheese in the building-construction business. However, the real moral of this story is: if he hadn’t had a family business to fall back on, Donald would have been left high and dry—totally up the creek without a paddle. So I don’t think my future is looking too bright and hopeful—do you?’
‘Oh, come on! I simply can’t believe that Jack would be that vindictive,’ her sister protested. ‘There’s a world of difference between pinching another man’s wife and two people having a row in the office.’
Laura brushed a weary hand through her hair. ‘I hope you’re right. But the theatrical world is a very small one and absolutely riddled with gossip. In fact, while it’s only a few hours since I was sacked, I’m pretty sure that by now the quarrel between Jack and myself will be common knowledge. So I reckon my chances of being able to join another agency are just about zilch!’
‘I think you’re being far too pessimistic. What you need is a good night’s sleep,’ Amy told her firmly. ‘You’ll be feeling much more positive in the morning. In fact, I’m quite certain your fears are groundless, and that it won’t be long before you’re inundated with offers of work.’
I hope to goodness that Amy is right, Laura thought glumly, waves of tiredness and resentment sweeping over her weary body as she slowly made her way back to her own apartment. Unfortunately, after having been so callously dumped by that louse Jack Wilder it now seemed all too likely that he would turn nasty.
If so, she wouldn’t just have lost both the man she loved and a job she’d really enjoyed—it was beginning to look as if she might lose the roof over her head as well.
CHAPTER TWO
WITH a sigh of relief, Laura plunged the mop back into its bucket of soapy water. Leaning against the open doorway of the kitchen, she gazed with considerable pride and satisfaction at the bright, shiny worktops and gleaming ceramic-tiled floor.
She had spent all day spring-cleaning her apartment from top to bottom, and it had been a shock to discover how much she’d seriously underestimated the exhausting, sheer hard work of those women who stayed at home, looking after their homes and families.
‘They definitely deserve a gold medal for valour!’ she muttered, wearily brushing the damp locks of hair from her brow as she turned to wander slowly through the large, airy and now sparkling clean rooms.
She’d always longed to live in a warehouse apartment, and had jumped at the chance of buying a new loft conversion in the centre of Soho. It had been really more than she could afford, of course, but, after spending a day frantically wheeling and dealing on behalf of her various clients, the high ceilings and enormous amount of space had always proved to be an oasis of peace and quiet.
But not for much longer. It was now over three weeks since she’d been so summarily dismissed from the agency by Jack Wilder. And, despite trying hard to obtain another position, she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. So it looked as though it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to face the harsh facts of life and sell her apartment.
Although she suspected that Jack was to blame for this disastrous state of affairs, Laura knew that she didn’t have any real proof that he was behind her failure to get a job. Unfortunately, without some solid evidence that he was using his influence in the theatrical world and deliberately blocking her appointment to any of the firms she contacted, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And yet...well, it definitely seemed highly suspicious that not one of the agencies she’d approached had been able to offer her a job.
Despite being initially shattered by Jack’s shockingly cruel, heartless decision, she now burned with an ever increasing anger and deep resentment at the way she’d been treated. The ratfink had made absolutely no attempt to contact her, either by phone or in person. So it was obvious that he didn’t give a damn about the fact that he’d completely ruined her life. I’ll have his guts for garters! Laura promised herself grimly, amazed that she could have imagined herself in love with such an unbelievably awful man.
In fact, the only faint light amidst the doom and gloom had been the long, warm and sympathetic phone call from Susie Carter, some days ago. Formerly Jack Wilder’s secretary and PA, Susie had left the agency to marry a wealthy man soon after Laura’s arrival. Sadly, it appeared that her marriage had not been a success.
‘We couldn’t seem to agree on anything—not even having children, which I wanted and he didn’t,’ Susie had told her with a heavy sigh. ‘So, when I discovered that he’d not only been unfaithful for most of our short married life, but was also having an affair with a young girl in his office, I decided that I’d had enough.
‘Unfortunately, Laura,’ she’d added with an unhappy sigh, ‘I have to say that being a merry divorcee isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not only lonely, but also bored stiff and longing to get back to the theatrical world. So when someone told me you’d left Jack’s firm I...well, I was hoping that you meant to start up on your own, and might need a personal assistant.’
‘Believe me, if I had some money saved up and could afford to have my own business, I’d take you on like a shot,’ Laura had assured her wistfully, before explaining that she was now completely broke and needed to get a job as soon as possible.
Luckily, it seemed that Susie had only heard vague rumours of the violent argument between her and Jack—and had no knowledge of the real reason behind their row and Laura’s dismissal from the firm. ‘I know my old boss can be a very difficult man to work for. However, I’m sure it won’t be long before you find another position that’s every bit as good as the last one,’ the other girl had said encouragingly, before promising to let Laura know if she heard of any vacancies.
It had been kind of Susie to call, and she was also grateful for the messages she’d received from many of her old clients, expressing their overwhelming dismay and sorrow that she was no longer able to look after their careers. While actors were known to be notoriously fickle—rapidly changing their agents whenever they felt they could do better with another firm—she’d been touched and heartened by the level of support which she’d received over the past few weeks. Not to mention that quite extraordinary phone call yesterday—from Donald Hunt, of all people!
Never having met the man who’d once been a business partner of Jack Wilder, Laura had been certain that it must be a hoax—possibly from one of her friends in the acting profession. And, even after he had eventually managed to convince her that it really was Donald Hunt on the phone, it had taken her some considerable time to fully understand what he was saying.
Boiled down to the bare essentials, it seemed that Jack’s ex-partner was now a mega-rich property developer who, over the years, had expanded the family construction business which he’d inherited from his father. Not only did he own a number of large office blocks in central London, but he’d also recently purchased the building where she’d been working until only a few weeks ago.
‘Well...er...it’s nice to hear from you, Donald,’ she’d murmured with a puzzled frown, wondering why on earth a man whom she’d never met should now be ringing her completely out of the blue.
However, as he’d proceeded to explain the business proposition which lay behind his phone call, Laura’s green eyes had widened in astonishment.
‘Oh, come on, Donald—you must be joking!’ she’d gasped, wondering if she was standing on her head or her heels. ‘I mean...yes, of course I’d love to have my own theatrical agency. Who wouldn’t? And your offer to set me up in business is...well, it’s amazingly kind and generous. But...but I couldn’t possibly go along with your idea of running the agency from the same building as WHAM. I...well, I’m sure it would be totally unethical of me to do such a thing. Not to mention the fact that Jack would be absolutely furious!’ she’d added with a nervous giggle.
Besides which, as Laura now told herself, she wasn’t entirely a fool. While Donald had, of course, strenuously denied any intention of making mischief, or causing trouble for his ex-partner, she still had considerable doubts about the motives which lay behind his amazing offer.
‘No, I can assure you that this definitely isn’t a personal vendetta,’ he’d assured her when she had tentatively raised the subject. ‘My bust-up with Jack is now ancient history, and I certainly don’t bear him any ill will. In fact, as it turns out, he did me a considerable favour. I’ve had far more success as a property developer than I ever would have had as a theatrical agent. What we’re talking about here is purely a business proposition. I’ve got some empty office space which needs filling, and from all I hear you’re more than capable of running a successful agency.
‘However,’ he’d continued, with a slightly self-conscious bark of laughter, ‘I must admit that I do sometimes miss the buzz I used to get from meeting so many famous and interesting people. And it might be fun to have a small stake in the business once again. However, it’s nonsense to think that Jack Wilder, with so many highly successful clients on his books, is likely to care about my involvement, one way or another,’ Donald had added firmly.
Despite his reassuring words, Laura hadn’t been entirely convinced, feeling obliged—however reluctantly—to turn down what was clearly the offer of a lifetime. Because it was one thing for her to run a small theatrical agency from home, or from a garret in Soho, neither of which was likely to trouble her ex-employer, but she was quite certain that he’d be extremely annoyed if, as Donald had proposed, she began operating from a large and glamorous business suite directly beneath his own office. And, if she was so unprincipled as to pinch any of his clients, Jack wouldn’t just be extremely annoyed—he’d go completely bananas!
Sinking down onto a sofa, Laura indulged herself for a moment in the delicious daydream of causing the maximum number of headaches for her ex-boss, before she eventually pulled herself together. She might be furiously angry with Jack—but even if he had behaved badly there was absolutely no excuse for her to do so. A good job will turn up soon; you’ve just got to be patient, she told herself firmly, then decided to have a shower and wash her hair.
Unfortunately, she was only too well aware that being patient wasn’t one of her strong points. And the normally refreshing, fine needle spray of hot water did nothing to soothe her battered spirits, nor ease her weary body. Over the past few weeks, it had seemed as though she’d barely had any sleep, with Jack’s tall, dark figure striding arrogantly through her restless dreams. Even now she couldn’t seem to prevent herself from recalling, in vivid detail, every moment of those few short days spent alone with Jack in the South Pacific.
She’d had no idea what lay ahead of her when they’d landed at Papeete Airport. It had been her first visit to the Polynesian Islands, and she hadn’t realised just how exhausting the hot and humid atmosphere would prove to be. While she and Jack had tried to deal with the problems of their client, Craig Jordan, it hadn’t taken them long to discover that the set of Mutiny on the Bounty was definitely not a happy ship.
Not only had Craig been at loggerheads with the director, principally over his interpretation of the part of Fletcher Christian—the leader of the mutineers—but the producer had been constantly on the phone to the financiers in New York, who had been threatening to withdraw backing from a production which was clearly going over budget. To make matters worse, the actor playing Captain Bligh had been carted off to hospital with a grumbling appendix, the make-up department had been maintaining a ‘go slow’ over difficult working conditions, and the scriptwriters had appeared to be permanently drunk.
Quickly sorting out his client’s difficulties—which had mainly consisted of telling Craig to forget his new-found enthusiasm for method acting and to concentrate on earning his two-million-dollar fee—Jack had also somehow managed to pour soothing oil over most of the other problems currently bedevilling the production.
‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she told him at the end of the week as they sat out on the terrace of their hotel, sipping gin slings as they watched the tropical sun sink slowly down beneath the horizon. Gazing at Jack’s tall, broad-shouldered figure clothed in a crisp white short-sleeved open-necked shirt and trim navy shorts, Laura found herself envying the way that he always managed to look so cool and unruffled—in sharp contrast to herself, the scruffy film crew and the heavily costumed actors, all visibly wilting in the steamy heat.
‘When we arrived, I felt certain that it wouldn’t be long before there was going to be a real mutiny,’ she continued. ‘But now that the writers have decided to lay off the booze, and everyone else has calmed down, the only problem you haven’t yet solved seems to be the question of extra finance to complete the film.’
‘I may be able to sort out some simple problems but I’m afraid I can’t perform miracles!’ he laughed, before ordering more drinks from a passing waiter.
Continuing to discuss various aspects of the troubled production, which, in her view at least, was destined to be a total flop at the box office, she was surprised when he suddenly announced that it was time they both had a break.
‘A break...?’ She frowned at him in puzzlement.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Frankly, there’s not much more we can do here—although Craig has asked me to let you stay on for another week, just in case any further problems should arise. Hey, relax!’ he added with a grin as she groaned and pulled a face. ‘I know looking after Craig isn’t easy—but it’s hardly a fate worse than death!’
‘Maybe not, but it comes pretty close,’ Laura grumbled, dreading having to cope with the neurotic, highly strung film star, who genuinely believed that he was totally irresistible to women. ‘Do I really have to stay on here?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid you do,’ Jack told her firmly, explaining that he was returning to London after the weekend for an important meeting. However, with a few days in hand, he’d decided, he went on to tell her, to accept an invitation from the producer of the film, who’d arranged a trip to an archipelago of tiny atolls in the Pacific Ocean, only ninety minutes away by air from Tahiti.
‘Quite frankly, Laura,’ he added, ‘for the past week we’ve been forced to listen to enough moaning and whining to last a lifetime! So it will do us both good to get away for a few days.’
‘You mean...the invitation includes me as well?’
‘Well, I was hardly planning to leave you behind,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Unless, of course, you simply hate the idea of sitting beneath shady palm trees, gazing out over a blue lagoon—and savouring the total peace and quiet?’
‘It sounds like heaven,’ she agreed with a wistful sigh. ‘But—’
‘Good, that’s settled,’ he said firmly as he rose to his feet. ‘I’m going to be tied up with business calls for the rest of this evening, but I’ve arranged for us to be collected from the hotel first thing tomorrow morning. By the way, don’t forget to pack your bikini,’ he added, gently brushing her cheek with his finger before turning to stride away.
Left alone on the terrace, Laura’s mind was filled by a mass of confusing emotions as she gazed blindly out over the ocean, now barely visible in the gathering darkness. Back in London, frantically busy during working hours with the phone going non-stop, she normally had no trouble in stifling her feelings for Jack. But she wasn’t at all sure that this weekend break was a good idea. Especially when merely the soft, warm touch of Jack’s hand on her face could leave her feeling almost sick with hunger and desire.
It had, of course, been nothing more than a careless, friendly gesture. But there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about the almost overwhelming, deep longing to find herself clasped within his strong embrace.
Desperately trying to pull herself together, Laura realised that she was undoubtedly guilty of overdrama-tising the situation. After all, she and Jack weren’t likely to be alone on this trip. Sam, the producer, was a jovial and gregarious man who was almost bound to have asked several other actors and staff to join him. So allowing herself to get into a state about spending a weekend in Jack’s company wasn’t just silly—it was totally pathetic!
However, despite sternly lecturing herself on the folly of indulging in hopelessly romantic dreams, she slept badly that night. And when she descended to the hotel lobby the next morning it was to discover that her strong sense of apprehension and foreboding had been well founded, after all.
‘The balloon has just gone up,’ Jack announced as he led her towards a waiting taxi, explaining that the financial backers of the film had apparently run out of patience and were threatening to withdraw funding. With Sam and his assistants having to catch the first plane back to New York, in a desperate attempt to save the production, it now seemed that only Jack and Laura would be free to enjoy the weekend.
‘But...but surely we can’t just disappear like this?’ she muttered nervously. ‘Most of the cast will be out of their minds with worry, and—’
‘Nonsense! There’s absolutely nothing we can do about the situation,’ Jack said as their taxi sped through the crowded, noisy streets of Papeete towards the airport. ‘And I certainly don’t intend to spend the next few days wet-nursing a bunch of grouchy, bad-tempered people—however sorry I might feel for them,’ he added firmly, refusing to listen when she pointed out that their client, Craig Jordan, wouldn’t be at all happy with their departure from the unhappy scene.
‘Craig is perfectly capable of looking after himself for a few days,’ her employer retorted dismissively. ‘And, since fate has clearly taken a hand in this affair, what I now have in mind certainly doesn’t include a third party!’ He paused for a moment before adding quietly, ‘However, if you really don’t feel like coming on this trip, Laura, then you only have to say so.’
There was no mistaking the glint in his grey eyes, the warm smile accompanying his words causing her to feel unexpectedly breathless, her heart pounding with a crazy mixture of soaring, wild excitement and nervous apprehension. Did ‘what I have in mind’ mean what she thought it did? Because, if so, she was going to have to take a very quick decision. Once she got on that plane with Jack, there would be no going back. Whatever the outcome, their relationship was never going to be the same again.
On the other hand, he was at least playing fair and giving her the chance to call the whole thing off. So, the safe, sensible decision would be to firmly and politely decline to accompany him on the trip—right? Unfortunately, it was proving difficult, if not downright impossible, to think clearly at the moment. It suddenly seemed as if he was sitting far too close, her mind and concentration distracted by the long, mahogany-brown legs almost touching her own, her nostrils filled with the strangely intoxicating, heady tang of his cologne.
Deciding to be sensible, Laura took a deep breath, fully intending to say that she’d prefer to remain in Tahiti. She was, therefore, considerably astounded to find herself agreeing that, yes...maybe a short break would be a good idea after all.
Totally unable to explain to herself, let alone to anyone else, why she should have agreed to such an emotionally insane invitation, it seemed to Laura as if she spent the rest of the day in a completely mindless daze.
Their hotel, on a tiny atoll fringed by totally deserted white sandy beaches and overlooking the crystal-clear waters of a dark blue lagoon, was far more breathtakingly beautiful than she could have ever imagined. However, she was aware only of the tall, dark man who had dominated her dreams for so long. Drowning helplessly in the gleaming depths of his slate-grey eyes as they dined alone on the candlelit terrace of the hotel, of which they appeared to be the only guests, she allowed herself to be led, like a sleepwalker, to the door of his room overlooking the lagoon.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind, Laura, if you think this isn’t a good idea,’ he said softly.
She gave a bemused shake of her head. ‘No, I...er...I think I know what I’m doing...’ she murmured, totally caught up in the magic of the moment.
‘I’m glad someone has their feet on the ground, because I certainly haven’t,’ he muttered thickly under his breath, drawing her into his room and kicking the door closed behind them. ‘God knows, I’ve tried to be sensible—but I simply can’t seem to help myself.’
‘I don’t understand...’ she whispered helplessly as he drew her close to his tall, rangy figure.
‘Surely you must have guessed that I’ve been absolutely crazy about you for the past year?’ The thick, husky tone of his low voice seemed to echo in her ears. ‘I’ll never know how I’ve managed to keep my hands off you for so long...’ he breathed as his arms closed tightly about her slim frame, his mouth possessing her lips in a kiss of passionate intensity.
With her mind and body seized by a raging tide of sexual excitement and desire, she ardently welcomed the fierce, determined possession by his lips and body. Beside the clamouring demand of their mutual desire, all sense of caution or moral precepts seemed totally unimportant and unreal.
Throughout that long night, it seemed to Laura as if she’d become completely lost to all sense of time and place. She was only aware of a compulsive need to respond to the soft, long, sweeping caress of his fingers, purring and glowing with rapture as she unashamedly offered her nude body to his eyes and hands, her own senses delighting in the firm texture of his flesh and the hard muscles of the arms fiercely pulling her towards him.
Beneath the mastery of his touch, it seemed as though she had become a wanton creature, her nostrils savouring his musky, masculine scent, her lips tasting the salty fragrance of his skin, until overwhelming desire yet again claimed them both, a frenzied need not merely to be possessed, but to be totally consumed and fulfilled, the intensity of their lovemaking causing her to cry out loud with joy and overwhelming happiness.
Now, as she looked back on those two, brief days which they’d spent together, scarcely leaving the small cottage at their hotel—other than to wander hand in hand into the calm blue waters of the lagoon, or stroll along the fine, powdery white sand of deserted beaches—Laura found herself wondering if, in reality, it had all been a dream. With her being so madly in love with Jack, maybe her over-fertile imagination really had, somehow, conjured up that blissful, halcyon time of enchantment and rapture.
Because it was the only explanation which appeared to make any sense of what had happened less than twenty-four hours after her return to London. Even now, over three weeks later, she could still almost feel her skin crawling with the humiliation of Jack’s cool, ruthless rejection—a crushing blow from which she was finding it well-nigh impossible to recover.
Slipping on a bathrobe and winding a towel about her damp hair, she wandered disconsolately out of the bathroom, deciding to drown her sorrows in a cool drink. But, just as she was making her way to the kitchen, she heard a ring on the doorbell.
Grumbling under her breath at the repeated, loud buzz of the bell, Laura tightened the belt of her towelling gown and went to open the door.
‘What...what on earth are you doing here?’ she gasped, suddenly feeling quite sick as she gazed through the few inches of open door, which still had its chain firmly in place.
‘To see you, of course,’ Jack retorted, his lips tightening as the pale-faced girl continued to stare at him with shocked, glazed eyes. ‘Come on, Laura,’ he added with ill-concealed impatience. ‘Undo the chain and let me in.’
After a moment’s hesitation, she gave a helpless shrug and did as he asked, stepping back in silence and allowing him to walk past her into the apartment.
‘I still can’t think what you’re doing here,’ she muttered, finding her voice at last as she reluctantly followed him into the sitting room. ‘In fact, you’re just about the last person I expected to see.’
‘I’ve been in the United States for the past few weeks. In fact, I’ve come here straight from the airport,’ he said, brushing a tired hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘As I suspected when we were in Tahiti, it now looks as if the film’s financial problems have just about scuppered Mutiny on the Bounty.’
‘So, what else is new?’ she retorted caustically. ‘Anyone with half an eye could see that the film was going to be a Grade A flop.’
He shrugged. ‘Flop or not, I had to make sure that the financial backers honoured Craig’s contract. However, the time I spent in America wasn’t entirely wasted, because I’ve now decided to open an office in New York.’
‘Yes, well, I’m sure that’s all very interesting,’ she snapped, nervously tightening the belt of her robe and deeply resenting the way his tall figure, formally elegant in a dark suit, seemed to dominate even the large sitting room.
‘However, just in case you’ve forgotten,’ she continued grimly, ‘you sacked me some three weeks ago. So your current business plans have absolutely nothing to do with me. Right?’
‘Wrong,’ he retorted curtly, before giving an impatient sigh at the cold, stony expression on her face. ‘Relax—I haven’t come here to quarrel with you, Laura. So why don’t you come down off your high horse and give me a cup of coffee?’
‘A cup of coffee?’ she echoed blankly, completely astounded by the sheer nerve of the awful man. Did he really imagine that he could just casually swan back into her life, as if nothing had happened?
‘I’m feeling so jet-lagged that either coffee, tea or a stiff drink would be equally welcome,’ he explained with a weary shrug of his broad shoulders.
‘Quite frankly, Jack,’ she retorted grimly, ‘the only thing I feel like giving you is a very hard thump on the nose!’
