Fated Attraction

by Carole Mortimer

  He shook his head with self-disgust, straightening. ‘Put this down to the lateness of the hour,’ he advised harshly. ‘It couldn’t be anything else,’ he muttered as he abruptly left the room.

  Jane sat down heavily on the bed, her eyes huge blue pools of vulnerability.

  ‘Telephone?’ She frowned up at Mrs Howard the following morning as she sat bent over the desk she worked on, doing her best not to even think about what had happened the previous evening. As she was sure Raff was!

  She sensed the other woman’s interest in the fact that this was the first private telephone call Jane had received since she had come here almost a week ago.

  And who could blame her?

  ‘For me?’ Jane blinked her surprise. ‘Are you sure?’

  She wasn’t sure of anything herself any more, and didn’t see why anyone else should be!

  ‘Of course I’m sure!’ The housekeeper was slightly put out that Jane should doubt her word.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jane accepted heavily, getting slowly to her feet to go and take the call in the hallway.

  Robert—it had to be; he was the only one who knew she was here. Well, the only person who would know to ask for ‘Jane Smith’!

  She only hoped he wasn’t about to make a nuisance of himself because of that. She didn’t need him popping in and out of her life—not now. She already had too many other complications to deal with.

  Consequently, when she lifted up the receiver she wasn’t feeling kindly disposed to Robert’s being a disruptive presence in her already turbulent life. ‘Yes?’ she prompted tersely.

  ‘It’s Jordan,’ came the harshly unexpected reply. ‘I’m well, too—in the circumstances! But I want to know more about this job of yours. I’ll be waiting for you in our favourite restaurant tomorrow at one o’clock. Be there.’

  The receiver was put down at the other end with a decisive click.

  Jane was too stunned to even move for several minutes.

  She had been partly right, for it had to have been Robert who’d told Jordan of her whereabouts!

  And if she didn’t meet Jordan tomorrow for lunch as he had instructed she knew he was capable of coming here instead.

  Which would cause all sorts of problems.

  Damn Robert!

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘MOI?’ Robert questioned with exaggerated innocence when Jane telephoned him to tell him exactly what she thought of his betrayal.

  ‘Mandy wasn’t enough of a deterrent, hm?’ Jane said coolly.

  ‘It wasn’t that,’ he wheedled, all bravado gone. ‘Of all things to happen to me, when I got back to town on Sunday night I bumped straight into Jordan. He was in the foulest temper imaginable, and I knew that if he ever found out I had known where you were and hadn’t told him …! Put yourself in my place, Rhea,’ he pleaded.

  Jane could do that all too easily; Jordan could be formidable. But it didn’t make her situation here any easier. Because of Robert she now had to try to get tomorrow off so that she could go into town and meet Jordan.

  She had to accept that there was little more she could say to Robert on the subject, although she left him in no doubt about how annoyed she was with him.

  It was asking Raff for the day off that was going to be so difficult; she hadn’t even worked for him a full week yet.

  He had fallen back into the habit of not joining her for dinner since the departure of his aunt and uncle, and so she had no choice but to seek him out in his study after she had finished her own meal. There was a tray with empty plates put to one side of his desk to show that he had at least eaten.

  But he looked more tired than ever tonight, and there was a wary look on his face as he glanced up and saw her.

  Jane knew the reason for that wariness, knew he was unsure how they were supposed to behave towards each other after last night.

  For a man like Raff the emotion must be galling!

  Well, if he thought she had assumed anything after their kisses the previous night he was mistaken; she didn’t think it would ever pay to assume anything where this man was concerned.

  ‘I just brought coffee for us both tonight.’ She held up the two cups as she entered the room.

  ‘Thanks,’ he accepted abruptly, taking one of the cups before sitting down again behind the desk.

  Jane hesitated, and then sat down in the chair opposite him. He didn’t have the typewriter on the desk in front of him tonight, just long, hand-written pages.

  Raff saw her gaze on them. ‘I—er—decided to write the report out again by hand, and thought I would accept your offer of last night.’

  God, how that cost him!

  ‘Why?’ she prompted softly.

  He shrugged. ‘The report is pretty urgent,’ he bit out curtly, obviously hating having to change his mind like this after what he had said to her yesterday. ‘I’d like you to start work on it as soon as possible.’

  ‘Of course,’ she nodded. ‘I’ll start typing it straight away if you have some of it already completed?’

  He gave a slight smile. ‘There’s no need to do that, tomorrow will do.’

  Now it was her turn to look uncertain. ‘I—er—I know this might seem a bit cheeky, but I wondered if I could have tomorrow off?’ The last came out in a rush, and she looked at him ruefully.

  ‘Why?’ he returned, as she had seconds earlier, his eyes narrowed searchingly on her flushed face.

  ‘I—need to go into London for the day,’ she explained with a grimace of reluctance. But she couldn’t just swan off for the day without asking Raff. She may not be used to being employed by someone, but she did at least know that!

  ‘Your days off are Saturday and Sunday,’ Raff told her harshly.

  ‘I’ll work on Saturday instead of tomorrow to make up for it,’ she promised.

  He gave a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair. ‘I know I don’t have the right to interfere in your life—’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she put in firmly.

  Raff shook his head. ‘You became my responsibility the night you stepped off the pavement in front of my car.’

  She stood up abruptly, moving across the room to pick up the typewriter from the table where she usually worked. ‘I release you from that responsibility,’ she told him hardly. ‘Now, if you’ll give me the sheets of notes you’ve already completed, I’ll get to work on them.’ She supported the typewriter on her wrist while holding out her hand for the sheets of paper.

  Raff gave them to her. ‘Where are you going with that?’ He nodded at the typewriter.

  ‘To work on the dining-room table, if that’s all right with you,’ she replied.

  ‘You won’t disturb me if you stay in here,’ he assured her.

  Maybe not, but he would disturb her! She couldn’t be in the same room as him and not be deeply aware of him, would never be able to work with him sitting just behind her.

  ‘I would rather go in the other room,’ she said stubbornly, turning to leave.

  ‘Jane.’ He stopped her huskily.

  She turned slightly.

  ‘Don’t do anything foolish,’ he warned gruffly, his expression harsh.

  He believed she was meeting her ex-lover in town tomorrow!

  Well, if he thought she was going to be tempted back to the life she had led in London, he was mistaken. It was strange really, she didn’t miss her life there at all. Oh, she missed Jordan, wished there weren’t this rift between them, but she didn’t miss any other part of the life she had had with him.

  She didn’t want to even think about how much part her growing attraction for Raff played in that.

  If she were about to do anything foolish, it was here with Raff, not in London! Falling in love with him would have to be the most foolish thing she had ever done in her life.

  ‘I won’t,’ she assured him now.

  ‘And that report is highly confidential,’ he reminded her again.

  She frowned at his persistence in repeating those words, as if s
he were going to run out into the street and shout it to all and sundry!

  But the reason for Raff’s persistence in the need for complete confidentiality became clear to her in the very first paragraph of his report.

  Raff was proposing to turn the house into a hotel, the grounds into a sports complex, part of it given over to a golf course!

  Jane avidly read through the rest of the report, realising from its content that Raff was putting together a package to present to the banks in the hope of securing the financial backing he would need for such an ambitious idea.

  And it did sound very ambitious indeed, although Jane didn’t doubt that if anyone could make a success of it Raff could—she was sure he had the ability to make anything he set his mind to succeed. But he had to get considerable financial backing first. And that could be the problem.

  And how would the rest of the family feel about having the estate turned into a luxury resort?

  ‘They don’t know about it yet.’

  Jane looked up sharply at the sound of Raff’s softly spoken words, her hair moving silkily against her spine, loose tonight, although the black dress she had on was worn more for comfort than effect, despite the fact that the dark colour made her hair look like flame.

  Raff stood framed in the dining-room doorway, although he moved further into the room and closed the door firmly behind him as she looked at him, running a hand through the already tangled thickness of his dark hair. ‘I knew as soon as you had read even a part of that report that you would begin to wonder about the rest of the family,’ he explained heavily.

  Jane moistened her lips. ‘It all sounds wonderful.’ What else could she say?

  He gave a humourless smile. ‘But not quite what my dear aunt has in mind, hm?’

  She doubted it very much. It would seem slightly vulgar to a woman like Anita Barnes to have the estate turned into a hotel complex, even if it were of a most luxurious standard!

  Raff shook his head. ‘I’m running out of ideas of how to hold on to this money-gobbling pile.’ He looked about him as if, at that moment, he felt he was a prisoner of circumstances.

  ‘Don’t your aunt and uncle have money?’ Jane suggested tentatively.

  His mouth twisted. ‘Not enough for the money-monster,’ he dismissed. ‘No, the estate has to be turned around so that it can begin to support itself. Farming the land doesn’t work, and we certainly don’t own enough properties to keep things going.’ He gave an impatient shrug. ‘I don’t even know if this idea is viable really, I’m leaving it to the banks to decide that.’

  Oh, it all sounded viable, was just the sort of place that had become so popular with her London crowd the last few years, all of the facilities in one place for the ‘idle rich’ to play with. But if Raff went through with making the estate into a leisure complex it would no longer belong solely to the Quinlan family, and the privacy here would be gone forever.

  ‘Is it what you want?’ she probed gently.

  ‘It isn’t a question of what I want,’ he dismissed irritably. ‘My choices are limited.’

  Jane chewed on her bottom lip, remembering the conversation about the estate she had had with Robert at the weekend. ‘How do you think the rest of the family will feel about this?’

  Raff frowned. ‘You mean Anita and Co?’

  She repressed a smile at this description; it wasn’t really a time for humour. ‘That’s who I mean,’ she nodded.

  He sighed. ‘I’m not blind to the aspirations Anita has towards the estate, I just don’t intend obliging her by popping off before I’ve had at least my ‘‘three score years and ten’’, and in the meantime the estate has to survive—in any way that it can,’ he added grimly. ‘The same way I do.’

  Jane nodded. ‘The leisure complex would be one way of doing that.’

  ‘What do you think of the idea?’ He watched her with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Me?’ She looked startled. What did she know about such things—more to the point, what did he think she knew?

  He shrugged. ‘I just thought you might have had more experience of places like this than I have.’

  Jane’s mouth twisted. ‘With my designer-label clothes, silk underwear, and rich lovers, you mean?’ she said drily.

  Raff looked irritated. ‘Perhaps I was a little hasty in those assumptions,’ he muttered.

  Amusement darkened her eyes at this begrudging almost-apology. ‘Were you?’

  ‘To tell you the truth—’ he crossed the room to her abruptly ‘—I’m getting to the stage where I don’t really care any more!’

  Jane looked up at him with wide eyes, knowing he was going to kiss her again. And each time he did her defences got a little weaker. She was falling in love with this man. And it seemed as inevitable as that very first night they had met. Almost a fated attraction. The chances of their meeting any other way had to be extremely remote.

  His hands were gentle as he raised her face for his kiss, their mouths moving together in gentle exploration until hunger took over, her hands entwined in the dark thickness of his hair as she held him close to her.

  Raff’s eyes glowed darkly as he looked down at her. ‘A few centuries ago you would have been burnt as a witch,’ he murmured gruffly, his face relaxed in languid passion.

  The only time he seemed to relax at all!

  ‘Why?’ Jane prompted. But she knew, she knew … But she just needed to hear from his lips that he was as affected by their kisses as she was.

  His mouth tightened, as if he regretted kissing her at all, and he moved away from her abruptly. ‘Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?’ he asked abruptly.

  There was no reason why she shouldn’t have returned from town by then, but it was the unexpectedness of the invitation that made her hesitate.

  ‘Why?’ she said again.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Jane!’ He strode away impatiently. ‘Does there have to be a reason?’

  She looked at him consideringly, knowing he didn’t like having his motives questioned like this. But she was so uncertain …

  ‘I think so, yes,’ she nodded.

  He scowled. ‘Why don’t you just accept before I come to my senses?’

  That was partly what she was afraid of. It also seemed too much of a coincidence to her that he should want to take her out tomorrow evening, when he more than suspected she was meeting a man during her trip into London. The last thing she was going to feel like after a lunch with Jordan was answering yet more questions, about him this time!

  ‘Ask me again after tomorrow,’ she told Raff wearily.

  He frowned, thrusting his hands into his trouser-pockets. ‘What will your answer be?’

  ‘Yes. Probably.’ She grimaced.

  ‘Then answer me now,’ he instructed abruptly. ‘Either you do want to come out to dinner with me or you don’t. I’m not about to repeat the invitation.’

  Ever, he left unsaid. But the implication was there all the same.

  ‘Yes,’ she said abruptly, hating this feeling of manipulation, knowing that if she didn’t feel so attracted to him that he would never get away with it. As she dared not let him think that he had this time either! ‘But not tomorrow,’ she added firmly. ‘Wednesday, instead.’ She named the day after tomorrow, her head held high in challenge as anger darkened his features.

  ‘Why is that?’ he derided. ‘Expecting to be too tired to go out to dinner when you get back tomorrow?’

  His insult was clear, and it took all Jane’s effort of will not to tell him exactly what he could do with his dinner invitation, knowing that if she did there might never be another one. And she was too attracted to him to want to do that …

  She met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I expect to be less than good company after the drive and a little shopping in town, yes,’ she nodded.

  His eyes blazed, and Jane knew he wanted to rant and rave at her about the stupidity of meeting Jordan at all. But he didn’t, although anger emanated from every pore of his body. ‘Wedn
esday night,’ he bit out coldly. ‘Eight o’clock,’ he added sharply before slamming out of the room.

  Jane sat back weakly, feeling emotionally drained.

  She had just never met a man quite like Raff before. And that was the problem.

  * * *

  The man who most closely resembled Raff sat across the restaurant table from her, had already been seated at their usual table when she arrived ten minutes late for their one o’clock luncheon appointment.

  She knew Jordan would have arrived precisely on time, been shown to the table by Henry, who knew them both so well, and she also knew that Jordan had made a great pretence of looking at the menu, all the time his anger burning coldly under the surface as the minutes ticked away, signalling her tardiness.

  For Jordan had known she would come, that although she might be late she would definitely meet him here.

  Jordan had changed little in the two weeks since she’d last seen him. And he should have looked different, his hair should have grown longer—something, anything to show that time had elapsed for him too. But Jordan always looked the same, always neat, always impeccable, never a hair out of place, that rich dark hair always kept the same short length, although Jane had never been able to work out when he fitted these visits to the hairdresser into his busy working schedule. He probably paid someone to visit his office and cut his hair while he continued to work!

  After Raff’s unkempt look, his hair over-long and certainly not kept in any particular style, Jordan looked even more austerely impeccable than ever!

  But she loved him anyway. Had always loved him.

  She still wasn’t sure how she felt towards Raff.

  ‘Well?’ Jordan barked, his patience—what there was of it!—finally at an end.

  Jane smiled at him brightly; she had never been cowed by him the way other people seemed to be. And he knew it. ‘I was glad you telephoned,’ she told him lightly. ‘I have something I want to talk to you about.’

  ‘You have—’

  ‘Jordan, please.’ She mockingly interrupted his explosion. ‘People are staring,’ she taunted.