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‘It's rather early in the evening to be drunk,’ Jessica said coldly.
‘I'm not drunk,’ he smiled. ‘At least, not from alcohol. I had an awful feeling you might try and slip away from me.’
She allowed herself to be steered in the direction of the room where the loud music and noisy chatter seemed to have risen to a crescendo, feeling relief that at least she wasn't to be alone when she went in there, although she would rather it hadn't been this man at her side.
Consequently her voice was sharp when next she spoke. ‘There was no way I could do that,’ she snapped.
‘I'm glad,’ he squeezed her elbow. ‘I don't want to lose you now I've found you.’
As soon as she found Andrew she would make sure she never spoke to this maniac again!
But Andrew was nowhere to be seen, not at the bar, and not on the dance floor. Her imagination told her only too accurately what he was probably doing—and it wouldn't be anything innocent, not if his latest mistress were here.
He could have behaved himself one evening, especially in front of his boss. She was sure it wasn't going to impress John Sinclair to see Andrew flirting with his own secretary!
‘You seem to be looking for someone,’ Matthew remarked deeply at her side.
‘I am,’ she snapped her resentment that he was still there. So far the evening was turning out to be a complete disaster.
‘The man you came with?’ he said shrewdly.
‘My husband, yes,’ she nodded, watching as he seemed to pale at her disclosure.
‘Your husband …?’ he repeated softly. ‘He's here?’ His hand dropped away from her elbow.
‘Oh yes,’ she gave a bitter smile.
‘Where?’ Matthew rasped.
Her eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘If I knew that I wouldn't be looking for him.’
He seemed rather dazed. ‘It never occurred to me that you were married … Have you been married long?’ he asked harshly.
‘Seven years,’ she supplied tightly. Andrew was still nowhere in sight.
‘God!’ he groaned, very pale, his eyes the yellow of a cat's. ‘Children?’
‘One,’ Jessica nodded. ‘A little girl.’
He put a hand up to his brow, all teasing gone now. ‘I—You didn't tell me you were married!’
‘You didn't ask.’ She had at last spotted Andrew. He was coming towards them, and fortunately he didn't look angry at all, smiling his most charming smile as his arm slipped about her waist.
‘Here you are, darling,’ he said in a softly chiding voice. ‘I've been looking everywhere for you.’
By the smell of his breath he had done most of his looking at the bar! ‘I've been looking for you too, darling.’ The last was added for the benefit of the man called Matthew, letting him know once and for all to leave her alone.
‘Your wife has been in safe hands, Baxter,’ he remarked tautly, his mouth twisting as he looked at Andrew.
‘Jessica hasn't been bothering you, sir?’ Andrew asked anxiously, all his earlier contempt gone from his voice.
Sir? Jessica stiffened. This man must be one of Andrew's bosses! Oh God, she hadn't said anything that could have upset him, had she?
‘Not at all,’ Matthew replied easily, his eyes narrowed. ‘Although we haven't really had the opportunity to introduce ourselves properly.’ He looked expectantly at Andrew.
‘My wife Jessica,’ he instantly introduced. ‘Jessica, this is Matthew Sinclair, the owner of Sinclairs.’
Not just one of Andrew's bosses—the boss!
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_b5ac745c-7499-5162-b5e1-9390dda42d19)
SHE should have known, should have guessed by Andrew's charming manner just now, that the man she knew simply as Matthew was someone important. No, not just someone important, he was the man Andrew most wanted to impress. And he had been flirting with her shamelessly.
She looked up at Andrew. ‘I thought that was John Sinclair?’
It was Matthew who answered her. ‘I am John Sinclair, but so was my father. I prefer to use my second name rather than be called Young John Sinclair.’ His mouth twisted derisively.
Jessica looked at him with new eyes, no longer seeing the man who had tried to pick her up a few minutes ago, now seeing the authority that was second nature to him, his autocratic bearing. He was everything the wealthy owner of Sinclair's should be, Sinclair Office Supplies having tentacles all over the world, and she should have seen that in him from the first.
‘Your wife had just promised me a dance,’ he told Andrew. ‘That is, if you have no objection,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘No, of course not,’ Andrew answered, as Jessica had known he would, flushing his pleasure that Matthew Sinclair had chosen his wife out of all the other females in the room; most of them were just waiting for the owner of the firm to notice them.
‘Jessica?’ Matthew Sinclair quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.
‘I——’ She broke off her refusal as Andrew's fingers bit painfully into her waist. ‘I would love to,’ she amended, knowing she would never hear the end of it if she turned this man down. Andrew would surely never forgive her. And those threats of divorce earlier had sounded genuine enough.
They were the cynosure of all eyes as they stepped on to the dance floor, the fast disco-sound giving way to a slow love song, couples moving naturally into each other's arms as they swayed together to the music.
‘I couldn't have chosen better myself,’ Matthew murmured as the theme from Love Story became audible. He slowly pulled her into his arms, making no effort to hold her formally, as one would have expected between employer and employee's wife, his hands resting possessively on her hips as his body moved sensually against hers, his temple resting lightly against hers.
Jessica at once felt panic, and pushed at his shoulders. ‘Please—don't do that,’ she said awkwardly, feeling his tension even in her inexperience.
Matthew looked down at her with puzzled eyes, dancing slightly away from her now. ‘You must have been very young when you married,’ he said gruffly.
She nodded, not looking at him. ‘Eighteen.’
‘Do you love him?’
Her lashes fluttered nervously, and she looked hastily away from probing tawny eyes. ‘Of course I love him,’ she answered sharply, too sharply, realising how defensive she sounded. ‘Andrew is my husband,’ she added simply.
‘For better, for worse?’ Matthew scorned tightly.
‘Exactly.’
‘Jessica——’
‘I think the music has stopped, Mr Sinclair.’ She moved away from him.
He made no effort to leave the dance floor, attracting several curious looks. ‘You want me to take you back to Andrew?’ he asked huskily.
She knew there was much more significance behind the words than appeared on the surface. And this had to stop now. Not even for Andrew and the sake of his promotion would she put up with this man's familiarity.
‘Yes, I would,’ she replied stiltedly. ‘And isn't it time you returned to your wife?’
‘I don't have a wife, Jessica,’ he told her deeply. ‘Unlike you, I was patient.’
‘Patient …?’ She shook her head. ‘I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.’
‘No,’ he sighed, ‘I can see you don't. And I'm not in a position to tell you, not any more. Come on, I'll take you back to your husband.’
‘Thank you,’ she nodded coolly.
Matthew's hand on her elbow was impersonal as he guided her back to Andrew's side. ‘Maybe I could borrow your wife for another dance later?’ he said with stilted politeness.
‘Of course, sir,’ Andrew agreed eagerly, without even consulting her. ‘Jessica would like that,’ he added enthusiastically.
‘Jessica,’ Matthew nodded abruptly before leaving them.
Andrew dragged her over to a vacant table near the bar. ‘I don't know how you did it,’ he said excitedly, ‘but you certainly made a hit with Sinclair!’
‘Don't be silly, Andrew.’ She looked away, blushing unconsciously, noting that Matthew Sinclair was now dancing with a tall black-haired woman, her voluptuous figure shown to advantage in the green gown she wore, the two of them dancing even closer together than he and Jessica had. She turned back to Andrew. ‘I merely met him outside—in the corridor.’ She didn't want to tell him she had gone into the wrong room, he would only berate her for her stupidity. ‘He—he offered to escort me in here.’
‘He likes you,’ Andrew insisted. ‘Sinclair has always seemed a very cold fish to me. But he certainly didn't act that way with you.’
No, he certainly hadn't, although she thought she had got her feelings of uninterest over to him now. ‘He isn't acting that way with his partner now either,’ she pointed out dryly.
Andrew looked towards the dance-floor, easily locating Matthew Sinclair and his partner. ‘Don't be ridiculous, Jessica—that's Lisa,’ he scowled.
Jessica's eyes widened as she looked at the other woman with new eyes. Yes, she would be the sort of woman who appealed to Andrew, her sexuality oozed from every pore in her body.
And it was just like Andrew to be jealous of Matthew Sinclair's attention to his mistress, and consider the same attention shown to his wife an asset!
Lisa—or Alicia, to give her her real name—was strikingly beautiful, in her early twenties, with a figure any model would envy, except perhaps that her bust was a little too full to suit their slenderness. And she certainly didn't look as if she minded having Matthew Sinclair's arms about her; her own arms were entwined about his neck as they moved slowly in time to the music.
Andrew was scowling heavily now, his anger deepening as Matthew Sinclair and Alicia went to the bar together once the music had stopped. ‘Excuse me,’ he mumbled, and stood up, making his own way to the bar. After buying himself a drink he sauntered over to join the other couple.
Jessica turned away to hide her shame. He was making himself so obvious, making a fool of himself.
‘Hello there, love,’ greeted a cheery voice. ‘All alone, are you?’
She looked up into the face of a man who had obviously had too much to drink already, a man in his forties, very overweight, an alcoholic flush to his flabby cheeks. And he seemed to have singled her out for his inebriated attention. ‘No, I'm not alone,’ she told him in her coldest voice. ‘My partner will be back in a moment,’ although by the look of Andrew he wasn't going to leave Alicia's side for some time to come, and Matthew Sinclair was noticeably absent from their group now.
‘Not if he's Andrew Baxter, he won't.’ The drunken man pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Randy Andy, we call him in the office.’ He gave a suggestive laugh, his expression leering. ‘That's because he is.’ The man leant forward over the table, breathing beer fumes all over her. ‘Randy, I mean.’
Jessica had stiffened at his insulting tone. ‘The—nickname you have for Andrew is of no interest to me.’ She stood up. ‘If you'll excuse me …’ She had no idea where she was going, just away from this man.
‘Hey, not so fast!’ His hand came out and caught her about the wrist, surprisingly strong. ‘If you don't want to talk about Rand—er—Andy, then we won't. I can understand you being annoyed with him, he shouldn't really have bothered to bring one of his little friends when he already has Alicia,’ he chuckled. ‘You can be my little friend if you like.’
The idea nauseated her. ‘Andy brought his wife with him this time,’ she snapped. ‘Now, would you take your hands off me?’
He let go of her as if she had burnt him. ‘Cold little bitch, aren't you?’ he glared his dislike. ‘No wonder Andy says you're frigid! You should give the man what he wants——’
Jessica didn't wait to hear any more, but turned to rush out of the room, her face deathly white. Andrew had talked about her to that man, had discussed their sexual differences with a total stranger. God, she could just imagine the crudeness of that conversation, the ribald remarks! Did everyone in that room know she didn't sleep with her husband?
‘Jessica!’
She stopped her mad flight at the sound of that familiar voice, and turned to find Matthew Sinclair striding down the corridor to join her.
He grasped her forearms, searching her pale features. ‘Jessica, are you all right? Did Taylor insult you?’ he demanded in an angry voice.
‘Taylor?’ she echoed dully. Did this man know of her marital difficulties too? If he did then Andrew bringing her here tonight was a waste of time.
‘The man you were talking to——’
‘I wasn't talking to him, he was talking to me.’ She blinked back the tears.
‘Jessica …’ Matthew groaned.
‘Please, let me go.’ She shook off his hands, regaining her composure with effort. ‘Mr Taylor didn't insult me, he—he's just a little drunk, I think.’
Matthew nodded grimly. ‘More than a little. I'll get someone to take him home.’
Jessica would have liked to go home too, but Andrew had disappeared from the hall by the time she got up to leave—and Alicia was noticeably absent too.
‘Come with me,’ Matthew said tersely, leading her over to the lift.
Jessica hung back. ‘I—Where are you taking me?’
His mouth twisted into a smile, his tawny eyes hard. ‘Just somewhere away from this noise,’ he mocked.
That ‘somewhere’ turned out to be his office on the top floor. He took her through the spacious adjoining sitting-room, switching on the lights to move to the drinks cabinet. ‘Brandy, I think,’ he murmured, pouring some into a glass before handing it to her. ‘Where was your husband while all that was going on?’ he snapped in a harsh voice.
‘He—he stepped outside for some air,’ she invented, sipping the brandy, and instantly beginning to choke as the fiery liquid hit the back of her throat.
Matthew came forward to pat her gently on the back. ‘Good grief, girl,’ he said impatiently, ‘anyone would think you'd never drunk brandy before!’
‘I haven't,’ she choked, tears wetting her cheeks.
He raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘How old are you? Ah yes, twenty-five,’ he answered his own question. ‘But you don't like to socialise.’
It was a statement that didn't really require an answer, so she didn't proffer one.
‘Your husband likes to—socialise,’ he continued, his mouth twisting contemptuously.
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged huskily.
‘But you don't?’ he persisted.
