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‘J. I. Watson sent in his second manuscript this morning!’ Jane told him, her face flushed with the triumph of being able to tell him that. ‘James has it, so I haven’t had the chance to read all of it yet, but the little I have tells me it’s going to be another runaway success. Which doesn’t always happen with second books, you know…’
‘Is it another No Ordinary Boy book?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ Jane confirmed. ‘Of course, it won’t have that title, but it has all the same characters, and…’
She continued to talk, but Nik had faded her out after her initial announcement that they had received the second J. I. Watson ‘Boy’ manuscript.
Was Jinx aware that her father had written a second book? From her vehemence on Saturday evening concerning the commercial success of the first one, he would have thought she would rather her father never put fictional pen to paper again. Or fingers to keyboard, depending on which method Jackson Nixon preferred to use in order to write his books, Nik allowed ruefully.
But this second manuscript made it even more urgent that he meet the other man; the publication of the second book, coinciding with the possible release of the movie of the first book, would be tremendous publicity for all concerned.
If only he could get past Jinx and talk to her father!
‘I suppose he’s requested the same conditions as before?’ he quizzed Jane lightly, knowing she had been as puzzled by the author’s behaviour as James Stephens was.
In fact, Nik having learnt that the J in the author’s name stood for Jackson, the I for Ivor meant that he probably now knew more about the author than the publishers did!
Jane made a face. ‘No publicity? No interviews? No book signings?’ She nodded. ‘Pretty much. Except there was rather an interesting footnote this time…’ She broke off teasingly as she gave him a pointed look.
Nik moved uncomfortably under that predatory gaze. ‘Yes…?’
‘Well, it’s strange, really,’ Jane confided huskily, once again touching his hand. ‘You’re actually mentioned by name too this time.’
He stiffened warily. ‘I am?’
‘“Absolutely no further correspondence from Nik Prince to be forwarded on” was how I believe it was worded.’ She gave him an assessing look. ‘I think you must have really upset him with all your approaches regarding making the film.’
No, he hadn’t upset Jackson Nixon—how could he have done when it was virtually impossible to meet the man? The person who was so annoyed with him was his daughter, Jinx. And Nik wasn’t altogether sure that it was a totally impersonal annoyance, either.
There was no getting away from the fact that the two of them had had an explosive response to each other on Saturday evening. In fact, in any other circumstances, Nik was sure his pursuit of Jinx Nixon would have culminated in the most passionate affair he had ever been involved in. Something he was sure Jinx had been only too aware of, too.
Jackson Nixon’s adamant refusal now to have any further contact with Nik, he was sure, had been instigated by his daughter’s reluctance to have any further contact with him!
Making Nik all the more determined that he wouldn’t back off, either from Jackson Nixon or his beautiful daughter. The sooner he got Jinx into his bed, the easier this might all be resolved! In fact, just the thought of that slenderly curvaceous body curled nakedly in his arms was enough to arouse him.
Which accounted for the reason, he told himself, that he felt so reluctant to accept Jane Morrow’s invitation to join her for coffee when he took her back to her apartment later that evening. ‘Coffee’ in this case, he knew, was really Jane’s way of inviting him into her bed—something, for all her touching and innuendos, he had so far managed to avoid. And intended continuing to do so! Because at the moment all of his desire was centred on a tiny, rebellious redhead with violet-blue eyes…
He gave a regretful shake of his head. ‘Perhaps another time; I have a really early appointment in the morning that I need to be fully awake and alert for,’ he invented to nullify any insult Jane might feel at his refusal.
Jane moved closer towards him, her hand resting lightly on his chest as she looked up at him, her tongue moving suggestively across her lips. ‘I’ll make sure to set my alarm,’ she persisted.
‘I really can’t, Jane.’ He smiled to take the edge off his rejection.
‘Why not?’ She frowned her disappointment, her smile fading. ‘Or is it that I’ve served my purpose now that I’ve told you as much about J. I. Watson as I know?’ she guessed astutely, eyes starting to glitter with anger.
She was too close to the truth for Nik’s comfort, he acknowledged self-disgustedly. He also didn’t like that slightly possessive edge he detected in her tone; a couple of dinners together certainly did not give her that right. ‘I truly am sorry—’
‘Not as sorry as I am.’ Her voice was sharp with fury.
Nik didn’t like her tone at all now, finding it slightly threatening. It only confirmed his decision that to have pursued any further sort of relationship with this woman would have been a mistake.
However, he also knew that his own reluctance wasn’t entirely due to any noble sentiment on his part—it had more to do with the haunting memory of a pair of violetblue eyes, poutingly kissable lips, and a slenderly seductive body.
Although Jane Morrow was already angry enough at his reluctance to share her bed, without knowing that he was actually attracted to the daughter of J. I. Watson!
‘Hell hath no fury’…and all that, Nik thought with an inner wince.
Jane’s pretty face was no longer pretty at all. ‘I should have known that Nik Prince wouldn’t really be interested in me, but rather in what I might be able to tell him about the elusive J. I. Watson!’ She gave a disgusted shake of her head, agitatedly searching through her evening bag for her apartment key now. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation,’ she bit out, having found the key at last and unlocked the door, ‘I have a feeling the reason J. I. Watson shuns the limelight may be because he has—slightly feminine tendencies, shall we be kind and say?’
Nik, having been about to apologize yet again, became suddenly still instead, his eyes narrowing. ‘What makes you say that?’
She shrugged too-narrow shoulders as she paused in the open doorway. ‘Either that or someone else writes his letters for him; the last two we’ve received definitely had a female perfume about them.’
Jinx’s perfume…?
That elusive, but at the same time heady perfume of Lily of the Valley that he had commented on on Saturday and that Jinx had so summarily dismissed?
‘Did you recognize—’
‘No, I didn’t!’ Jane turned to glare at him indignantly, her face twisted in anger now. ‘You really are all that they accuse you of in the press, aren’t you?’ she accused scornfully.
Arrogant. Hard. Cold. Calculating. Single-minded. Brilliant. Gifted. He really had lost track of the names the press had bestowed on him over the years, rarely read anything they wrote about him nowadays, although he did know that the latter two comments were usually the exception to the rule. Most reporters preferred to dwell on his cold arrogance or the latest woman in his life rather than the skill that had earned him those five Oscars Jinx had referred to so scathingly on Saturday evening.
Jinx, again…
He really was becoming obsessed, wasn’t he? Although, what Jane said about the perfume on those last two letters was interesting. More than interesting, in fact. Perhaps, as he was reported to have been ill for some time now, Jackson Nixon had had more than a little help from his daughter in the writing of No Ordinary Boy? Perhaps—
Nik froze as another—totally amazing!—alternative suddenly occurred to him.
No—it couldn’t be!
They couldn’t all have been so wrong.
Could they…?
CHAPTER FOUR
‘JULIET INDIA NIXON.’
The name, softly but firmly spoken by Nik Prince as he sat opposite Jinx in the lounge of this large, impersonal London hotel, hung in the air between them like a dark, threatening cloud.
Or maybe that was only the way it seemed to her, Jinx allowed heavily; after all, Nik had absolutely no reason to feel in the least threatened by this meeting. In fact, the opposite, she would have thought.
As evidenced by his air of satisfaction as he leant further over the coffee-table that divided them, that silver gaze easily holding hers as he murmured, ‘That is you, isn’t it, Jinx?’
She forced herself to turn calmly away from those allseeing eyes, not in the least surprised to see the woman sitting alone two tables down in this hotel lounge staring avidly at Nik Prince; he was the sort of man who attracted female attention wherever he went! Not that Nik seemed at all aware of that interested female gaze—no, all of his attention was firmly fixed on her.
Jinx gave the other woman a sympathetic smile before turning away, deliberately adding sugar to one of the two cappuccinos they had ordered, to give herself a little time before answering Nik.
Not that she thought for a moment that time was going to be of any help to her whatsoever; it had already been two days—two excruciatingly tense days!—since the letter had arrived in the post office box from Nik Prince with, ‘Juliet India Nixon or just J. I. Watson? I think we need to talk, don’t you? Reception, The Waldorf, Wednesday at 10.30 a.m.’ written on it. And Jinx was no further now towards knowing how to deal with this forcefully determined man than she had been then!
She could try continuing to bluff her way out of it, of course, although she didn’t hold out much hope of this astutely intelligent man putting up with that for too long. She could try telling him the truth and appealing to his better nature—but did he have a ‘better nature’? The press seemed to think not—and, judging by his tenacity in tracking her down this last week, Jinx was inclined to agree with them.
Her chin rose slightly. ‘What do you want from me?’
Silver eyes gleamed. ‘The truth, of course.’
Her mouth twisted contemptuously. ‘Would you know that if it were to jump up and bite you on the nose?’
That silver gleam became slightly opaque now as his gaze narrowed. ‘Tell me, is this dislike personal, or just a general one towards movie directors?’
A week ago she would have said the latter, but Nik’s behaviour over the last week and a half hadn’t endeared him to her in the slightest. ‘Tell me, Mr Prince, exactly how did you come to the conclusion that I am J. I. Watson, rather than your initial assumption that it was my father?’ She made no effort to keep the derision from her voice.
He looked so much in control sitting across from her, so sure of himself, so—so damned arrogant. Because he was arrogant. And ruthless. A man who didn’t care about the how or why, as long as he got what he wanted. And this week he wanted to meet J. I. Watson. In fact, he believed that was exactly what he was doing.
She had no intention of telling him how wrong he was…
But even now, disliking him as much as she did, it was impossible to deny that just looking at him, so selfassured in casual trousers and a cream silk shirt, made her pulse race, sent a shiver of awareness down the length of her spine.
It had been this way since she’d first looked at him at Susan and Leo’s party. This complete awareness, just his gaze resting on her mouth—as it was now!—making her feel as if he had actually touched her there, caressed her.
‘Does it matter how I found out?’ He shrugged those powerful shoulders dismissively. ‘It is you, isn’t it?’ It was a statement rather than a question.
How to answer that?
She had never expected to have to answer questions like this. Because she had never thought the book would become such a runaway bestseller, with cries from all directions for the appearance of the author. And an offer to buy the film rights from such a prestigious director as Nik Prince…
He was still and silent as he waited for her to answer him, like a stalking tiger with his prey, that silver gaze almost hypnotic.
Jinx gave a deliberate smile, if only to show him that she wasn’t in the least mesmerised. Or in the least daunted by the fact that he believed he had discovered her real identity. ‘And what if it is?’ she evaded. ‘Surely I’ve made it more than obvious that I’m even less interested in your offer for the film rights than my father would have been?’
He arched one dark brow. ‘You haven’t heard my offer yet.’
‘Because I don’t need to.’ She gave a shake of her head, red hair silkily vibrant. ‘I’ve said no. Several times. As James Stephens has obviously informed you.’
Nik Prince once again sat forward in his chair, seeming to fill the whole of Jinx’s vision now. ‘What are you so afraid of, Jinx? Maybe if you tell me that—’
‘You’ll give up on the idea for the film and just go away?’ she scorned.
‘Well, no…I couldn’t exactly say that,’ he conceded wryly.
‘I thought not,’ she rasped.
‘But I might be able to understand your stubborn refusal a little more,’ he continued.
‘Really?’ Jinx gave a disbelieving snort. ‘And why do you imagine that I need your understanding?’
He drew in a harsh breath, his expression grim now, eyes narrowed, lips thinned. ‘Right now, taking your paranoia into account, what you need is my silence, young lady,’ he rapped. ‘Let’s go from there, shall we?’
‘Are you threatening me, Mr Prince?’ she said slowly, replacing her cup and saucer back on the table.
‘No, I’m—’ He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘No, Jinx, I’m not threatening you—’
‘It certainly sounded as if you were.’ She met his gaze unflinchingly.
Nik gave a sigh of obvious frustration. ‘I didn’t ask for this meeting with you today in order to argue with you—’
‘You didn’t ask for this meeting at all, Mr Prince—you demanded it,’ she reminded him forcefully. ‘And you did it with the belief that you had the leverage to talk me into allowing you to purchase the film rights of No Ordinary Boy. So how do you think you’re doing so far?’
‘Badly,’ he conceded heavily.
‘Very badly,’ she confirmed.
‘That’s because you—’ He broke off, staring at her impatiently. ‘Jinx, what do you have against the movie being made?’
‘By you?’ she delayed.
‘By anyone.’
How astute of him to realize that her stubbornness really wasn’t personal, that she would have been just as adamant in her refusal concerning the approach of any film company.
Although she had to say, since meeting Nik Prince, her determination had grown where he was concerned.
Because she recognized his powerful force? Because she knew he wasn’t a man who took no for an answer? Or was it simply that the fierce attraction she felt towards him, from that first moment of meeting him at Susan and Leo’s, made her doubly wary?
She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt attracted to any man, let alone one as forcefully compelling as Nik Prince. She had a good idea where such an attraction could lead if she allowed it to. Which was why she was determined to hold this man, in particular, completely at arm’s length.
‘Jinx?’
She looked across at him, frowning as she tried to remember what his last question had been. ‘Have you read No Ordinary Boy?’
His expression darkened. ‘Well, of course I’ve read it! The whole damn world has read it—’
‘I think that’s somewhat of an exaggeration,’ she scoffed.
‘It’s been published in over ninety countries, in twenty-five languages—’
‘Having received one set of royalties already, I do have all that information,’ she cut in.
‘Then you must also realize that the majority of the people who have read the book believe that J. I. Watson is a man—’
‘As you did,’ she pointed out.
‘As I did,’ he agreed. ‘The book is about a twelve-year-old boy confined to a wheelchair who suddenly discovers he has super mental abilities—’
‘I know what the book’s about, thank you! But you think me incapable of imagining being a twelve-year-old boy?’ she challenged, her unease increasing if that should prove to be the case.
That silver gaze swept over her with slow deliberation, lingering on the curve of her breasts in the cream silk blouse, before moving down the slender length of her legs in fitted black trousers.
