Hunter's Moon

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‘But do you have to ask him now?’ She frowned. ‘What’s the urgency?’

‘There is no urgency,’ her mother shrugged. ‘We just thought it would be a nice gesture, what with the time of year and everything.’

A time of year when Jonas was much less likely to refuse, Cassandra realised ruefully, her own hands tied for very much the same reason. ‘Mother——’

‘Do stop calling me Mother in that disapproving way of yours,’ she was told impatiently. ‘Either Mummy, or Marguerite, if you prefer, but Mother makes me sound like some matriarchal monster!’

Her mother was tense and agitated, she could see. Admittedly, she also having been widowed, the last year had been as difficult for her mother as it had for her, but at the same time her mother had seemed to be coping, her life continuing to run in its usually smooth way. What had happened to change that? Unless her mother did know something. Colin was Jonas’s assistant, so he would know all about the audit Jonas had ordered. Maybe that was why——

‘Mr Chorley, madam,’ the butler came into the room to announce after knocking quietly.

‘Thank you, Jenkins,’ she accepted vaguely. ‘Show him in, will you?’ She turned to Cassandra once they were alone again. ‘Just drop this for now, Cassandra,’ she hissed impatiently. ‘It’s absolutely none of Godfrey’s business.’

‘I would have thought Godfrey was the more obvious choice to give Joy away,’ she began reasoningly. ‘He——’

‘He’s a family friend, nothing more,’ her mother snapped. ‘Even if he would like to be more than that. Especially as he would like to be more than that.’ She was becoming agitated once again. ‘Cassandra, Jonas is very important to all our lives, so please just stop being difficult where he’s concerned!’ she pleaded anxiously.

Cassandra was prevented from saying anything more on the subject by Godfrey’s arrival, quickly followed by Joy and Colin joining them. As it could only be a matter of minutes before Jonas arrived too she quickly made her excuses!

But she was so preoccupied when she finally met Simeon at the restaurant that she couldn’t have been much company for him. Not that he complained; they didn’t have that sort of relationship—Simeon was more like a brother to her than anything else, despite what the rest of the family might think to the contrary.

Simeon had turned up at her London salon one day three years ago, short and dark-haired, at twenty-six nevertheless managing to look perpetually boyish, with no qualifications except a wonderful eye for colour and design, a fact he had proved only too well when on that very first occasion he had told her her displays were all wrong and offered to do them for her! The difference he had made in a very short time had convinced her she should employ him. It was a decision she had never regretted—although not even Simeon’s obvious talents could alter the fact that her business was in deep financial trouble. She wasn’t even sure she would be able to continue to employ him after the expense of putting out the spring collection!

But because Cassandra was so caught up in her own thoughts she cut the evening short, driving herself home again, wondering when she would be able to see Jonas again to finish their conversation. She certainly hadn’t been expecting him to be waiting for her when she got home!

But she would know that dark green Jaguar anywhere, and she glanced warily over at the house as she locked her own car before going inside. Obviously Jonas had decided they should finish this conversation tonight!

Jean looked at her with raised brows as she entered the house. ‘Mr Hunter is in the sitting-room,’ she said ruefully; obviously she hadn’t had any choice about letting him wait in there for Cassandra to come home!

‘Thanks, Jean.’ Cassandra squeezed her arm reassuringly, leaving her bag on the hall table to go through to the sitting-room, straightening her back defensively as she entered.

Jonas stood beside the unlit fireplace, watching her with narrowed eyes as she came in and quietly closed the door behind her. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he rasped accusingly.

She gasped at his direct attack. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your——’

‘You knew damn well I had assumed you would be at your mother’s this evening,’ he bit out impatiently.

She shook her head. ‘I didn’t say I would be,’ she reasoned, the two of them facing each other like adversaries across the width of the fireplace.

The perfectly tailored black dinner-suit and snowy white shirt Jonas wore did little to hide the fact that these trappings of civilisation were merely that—a veneer of sophistication that did little to hide the contempt he felt for the polite conventions that meant he had to dress this way to go to dinner at her mother’s house.

‘No, you didn’t say that,’ he accepted harshly. ‘But you knew I thought it anyway.’

What he thought and what was actually fact were two entirely different things! ‘What do you want, Jonas?’ she sighed wearily.

‘I wanted to finish our earlier conversation,’ he ground out impatiently. ‘But now I want to know where you were and who you were with this evening.’

Cassandra frowned. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business,’ she repeated, this time actually being allowed to finish the statement!

‘Young Grey, I suppose,’ he grated, his gaze narrowed on her speculatively. ‘Oh, yes, Cassandra, I’ve heard the rumours of your affair with him.’ His mouth twisted contemptuously.

‘My what?’ she gasped incredulously. ‘I’m not having an affair with Simeon!’ she protested irritably. ‘He and I are friends——’

‘You go out together,’ Jonas accused.

‘Well—yes,’ she acknowledged, colour entering her cheeks. ‘But as friends. Not that I can see what it has to do with you anyway——’

‘You’re my brother’s widow, the mother of my niece, of course it interests me what men you have in your life——’

‘I don’t have “men” in my life,’ Cassandra protested heatedly. ‘Only Simeon. And he——’

“‘Only Simeon”,’ Jonas echoed tauntingly. ‘What is it, Cassandra? Is he no danger because his tastes don’t run to women?’

‘Simeon has a normal interest in women as far as I know,’ she defended, indignant on his behalf; just because Simeon was involved in the fashion business didn’t mean he was automatically homosexual.

‘As far as you know,’ Jonas repeated softly, moving in that stealthy way of his now, suddenly standing very close to her. ‘Hasn’t he tried to make love to you yet?’ he challenged.

She swallowed hard, her cheeks feeling very warm now. ‘Of course he hasn’t!’ she snapped, wishing he wouldn’t stand so close to her; she was starting to feel very hot indeed, all over!

Jonas’s hand came up to cup one side of her heated face, his eyes narrowed on her widely distressed ones. ‘Why don’t I believe you?’ he murmured softly. ‘Possibly because of the passion I see here.’ His thumb-pad moved caressingly close to her wide golden eyes. ‘And the promise I can feel here.’ That thumb moved over her bottom lip now. ‘And the desire that pulses here.’ His hand moved down to the hollows of her throat, gently caressing still. ‘I was right about this dress, Cassandra,’ he told her softly, looking down at her body sheathed in the gold-coloured gown. ‘You do look like a high priestess in it.’

He was standing so close to her now that Cassandra could feel the heat of his body, and the touch of that marauding hand was doing strange things to her limbs; she was having difficulty standing up! She swayed slightly towards him, and as she did so she saw the light of triumph in his eyes, starting to pull back as she did so.

But it was too late; Jonas had already thrust her away from him, looking at her coldly now. ‘No,’ he rasped harshly, ‘I don’t believe you at all, Cassandra.’ He looked at her contemptuously. ‘You and Charles must have made a great pair, he so self-centred and you so glad to give him what he wanted as long as you got what you wanted in return!’

‘Get out,’ Cassandra choked. ‘Get out of my house.’ It was still hers—just!

Jonas’s mouth twisted. ‘Quite like old times!’ He taunted, reminding her of the fact that she had thrown him out the first time he had come here too. ‘Oh, I’m going, Cassandra, don’t worry. I had wanted to talk to you again before I left for the States in the morning but——’

‘You’re going to America tomorrow?’ Cassandra gasped incredulously; he had given no indication of that earlier today.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Is there some problem with that?’

‘Well, no… But——’

‘Good,’ he accepted with brisk dismissal. ‘We can talk again when I get back.’

Cassandra hurried after him as he strode over to the door. ‘But——’

‘Yes, Cassandra?’ He turned so sharply that she almost walked into him. She looked up into the hard coldness of his face, shivering slightly at the cruelty she could see there; he knew exactly what he was doing, was well aware of how worried she was about the conversation they had had earlier. Damn him!

‘Nothing,’ she told him through gritted teeth. ‘It can wait until you get back.’