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‘Not this real.’
‘Come on, Ramon. It’s not like you to pass up a chance to let your hair down.’
‘After we’ve clinched the deal. Not before. I don’t want to go into an eight o’clock meeting with a hangover from bad wine and worse jazz.’
But Jack was unrelenting. ‘Local colour,’ he said hardily. ‘Savour the experience.’
Grumbling, Ramon followed him down into the dark of the club. The floor was made up of uneven stone flags and the walls, as far as the low lighting allowed them to be seen, were covered in posters for poetry readings and obscure bands.
They sat at a rickety corner table. It was covered with a square of rigid paper and bore half a candle in a chipped saucer.
‘Very ethnic,’ said Ramon sourly.
About half the tables were full. A thin man was making concentrated music with the tabla and there was a desultory hum of conversation. Jack ordered a bottle of red wine and then sat back and surveyed the crowd alertly.
‘You look like you’re waiting for something.’
‘Maybe we’re about to hear the new Duke Ellington,’ said Jack. His voice was lazy, but his eyes were not.
Ramon was dubious. ‘Maybe…’ And then he sat bolt upright. ‘Oh, no.’
‘What?’
‘Damn.’
‘Where is she? said Jack, lazy no longer. His eyes were searching the cellar, hard and intent.
‘Jack, think—’
Jack ignored him. He raised a hand to the waiter and when the man came over said, ‘The young waitress. The one with the long plait. What’s her name?’
The waiter looked at him suspiciously. ‘Holly,’ he said.
‘Holly what?’
The waiter shrugged.
‘Does she work here regularly?’
‘Why don’t you ask her? Hey, Hol. Over here.’
She wove her way between the tables. ‘Yes? Can I—?’ She broke off.
It was him. Him. Her heart went into a nosedive.
Jack stood up.
Her heart levelled out and started to tap-dance.
‘It’s you,’ said Holly not much above a whisper.
It was unbelievable. As if by thinking about him, she had conjured him up like a genie. Perhaps he wasn’t really there, except in her imagination? She shook her head trying to clear it. But even after that he was still there.
Oh, yes, there all right. Tall and dark and just as gorgeous as she remembered.
The waiter knew the story she had told Gilbert. He tensed, suspicious. Holly knew, even though she did not take her eyes off Jack.
‘It’s all right, Marc,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Mr Armour and I met earlier today.’
Marc shrugged and went.
Holly did not move. She felt turned to stone and tongue-tied into the bargain. She looked down at her order pad as if she did not know what it was for.
Jack said, ‘Won’t you join us?’
She swallowed. ‘I can’t. I’m working.’
But she did not go.
‘Holly,’ Jack said. It sounded as if he was tasting it.
Holly felt a convulsive shiver run through her—deep and dark and utterly unfamiliar. It bewildered her. She raised her eyes to his face. With a little shock she realised that he recognised what she was feeling.
She blinked, struck to silence. No one had ever looked at her like that before—as if he knew her every last secret sensation.
He said her name again, so softly that only she could hear it.
‘Holly who?’
His eyes bored into her. The noisy little club seemed to recede, leaving just the two of them alone. Holly opened her mouth but no sound came out of it.
‘You know my name, after all,’ he prompted.
His determination beat at her like a high wind. He did not smile. Holly had never felt such force of will.
Get a grip, she told herself feverishly. Get a grip.
She moistened her lips. ‘I don’t tell my name to strangers.’
He did smile then. It was the same smile as this afternoon—cool and superior, as if he was so certain he was right he did not have to bother to prove it. Quite suddenly Holly’s sense of unreality evaporated like a burst bubble.
‘Hardly a stranger. I took on a guy for you today and stopped him cold.’
‘I didn’t ask you to,’ she flashed.
‘Are you saying you wish I hadn’t?’
She sidestepped that. ‘I don’t approve of violence.’
‘And you wish I hadn’t?’ he persisted.
She tilted her chin. ‘I run my own life, right? If you hadn’t come along, I would have dealt with Brendan.’
‘It looked like it,’ he said drily.
‘I’ve done it before.’
He looked sceptical. ‘Successfully?’
Holly shifted. She was too innately honest to claim success in her dealings with Brendan Sugrue. She was all too aware that her strategy consisted mainly of running away whenever Brendan appeared over the horizon. But she was not willing to admit it to this masterful stranger.
Jack saw her hesitation and pressed home his advantage. ‘So if he turns up here tonight, you don’t need my help?’
‘Tonight?’
In spite of her brave words, Holly flinched at the thought. She could not help it. She looked nervously at the staircase from the entrance.
‘That was a nasty incident this afternoon,’ Jack said more gently. ‘Don’t beat up on yourself. Most people can’t handle physical threats.’
Holly gave him a long look. ‘But you can?’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice.’
‘And that’s supposed to reassure me?’
He was taken aback for a moment. She saw it in his eyes and felt a small glow of achievement.
Then he said, ‘Are you telling me you don’t need me on your side?’
All the lovely triumph drained away, exposing her weakness with horrible clarity. Remembering Brendan’s ugly expression, Holly had a moment of pure fear.
At Jack’s elbow, Ramon murmured a protest. Neither of them paid any attention to him.
Jack’s face was hard. ‘Tell me you don’t need me and I’ll go.’
There was a sudden, odd silence. Their eyes locked. Holly felt stunned but had no idea why. She was as out of breath as if she had been running.
Jack’s eyes flared, then narrowed to slits. She had the oddest feeling that he was even more startled than she was. Startled and not at all pleased.
She did not understand any of it. But she was certainly not going to say that she needed Gorgeous Jack Armour. Not for anything. Not ever.
Sidestepping the issue neatly, she said, ‘You really think he’ll come here tonight?’
Jack shrugged. ‘If I found you, he can.’
She looked round the room. It was filling up but there was no one who looked like Brendan. Though she saw now that Gilbert was waving imperatively from the kitchen doorway.
‘I’ve got to get on with my work,’ said Holly, distracted.
‘I don’t hound women. Tell me to go and I will.’
Their eyes clashed. Locked.
Holly tore her gaze away and sought desperately for something to get her off the hook. She spied the bottle on their table.
‘You don’t have to go. You’re a paying customer.’ She began to back away. ‘Finish your wine.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Jack. He had not moved a step but she felt as if he was pursuing her like her own personal Fate. ‘I’m not here for the wine and you know it.’
Holly met his eyes straight on. ‘So what are you here for?’ She flung it at him like a challenge. ‘Me?’
His eyes flickered.
‘And you say you don’t hound women?’
The sexy mouth thinned to a fierce line. He said harshly, ‘I stopped a nasty piece of bullying this afternoon.’
‘That doesn’t give you any rights—’
‘Maybe not. But it gives me some unfinished business.’
Holly was taken aback. She lost hold of her protective fury in sheer bewilderment. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Mr Sugrue told me not to get in his way again,’ Jack said thoughtfully.
For a moment Holly did not understand. Then, ‘And that means you have to do whatever he told you not to? Was it some sort of challenge? You can’t leave it alone?’
There was a tiny pause. ‘Something like that.’
She shivered. ‘I shall never understand men.’
He shrugged. ‘Let’s just say, I decided to stay on the case. But it’s your case.’ His eyes were intent. ‘If you don’t want me to, I’m gone.’
The silence demanded an answer.
Cornered, resentful, Holly was forced into honesty. ‘No. Don’t go.’ It sounded as if it was dragged out of her.
‘Holly,’ bawled Gilbert.
‘I’ve got to go…’
Jack said pleasantly, ‘No problem,’ and sat down quite as if she had begged him to stay and he had graciously acceded.
Holly could have screamed.
But Gilbert was becoming too urgent to ignore. With a last look of frustration at Jack, she threaded a quick path through the tables.
‘Take your apron off,’ said Gilbert, too preoccupied to be angry. ‘Tobacco are going to be late and Jerry is finishing now. Get your flute.’
