by Miranda Lee
Which was fine by her. She hadn’t come here to have a go at Frank Ellison.
The arrival of other guests at that moment had Frank telling Jack and Vivienne to go inside and mingle whilst he turned his attention elsewhere.
‘He doesn’t know you were engaged to Daryl,’ Jack muttered to her as they walked under the huge chandelier which hung from the ceiling of the massive marble-floored atrium.
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Maybe Courtney doesn’t know, either. Come to think of it, I wasn’t wearing an engagement ring when we came to Frank’s house-warming party. Daryl had asked me to marry him but I...er...he...um...hadn’t bought the ring yet.’ No way was she going to admit in front of Jack that she’d eventually bought her own engagement ring. That would be just too humiliating for words. ‘She probably only knows what Daryl told her, which would be a pack of lies.’
Jack’s laugh was dry. ‘Courtney knew about you, Vivienne. I’d put my money on it.’
As if on cue, the girl herself, resplendent in a cocktail dress which made Vivienne’s gown look demure, came undulating up the three steps which separated the foyer from the huge sunken living room. Her dress—obviously a one-off made for her—was black and strapless, the beaded bodice cut so low across and between Courtney’s impressive and possibly enhanced breasts that it only just covered her nipples. The skirt was black chiffon, flaring out from just under her bust, effectively hiding her baby bump, and ending with a handkerchief hemline which flowed around the girl’s ankles, their slender shape shown off by the highest, slinkiest, sparkliest shoes Vivienne had ever seen. Even more sparkly were the exquisite diamond earrings hanging from Courtney’s lobes.
Much as she tried, she could not fault the girl’s face, with its perfect skin, cutely turned-up nose and pouty mouth, though Vivienne did wonder how much was natural and how much was owed to the skills of a top plastic surgeon. After all, her father wasn’t even remotely handsome, so she hadn’t got any beauty genes from him. Obviously they came from her mother, whoever she was. Frank Ellison had had lots of wives, and they’d all been good-looking. Men like that didn’t marry plain women. Even so, Courtney’s long mane of creamy blonde hair definitely wasn’t real—those dark roots were a dead giveaway—though it did suit her. One could not deny that Courtney Ellison was a very sexy creature all round; Vivienne’s admiration for Jack went up a few notches at his having resisted her advances.
Daryl trailed several paces after his fiancée, sipping a glass of champagne, not having noticed Vivienne as yet. He was looking back over his shoulder at a striking brunette who was smiling invitingly after him. Leopards didn’t change their spots, Vivienne realised ruefully as her gaze swung from the brunette back to her ex.
There was no doubt Daryl was elegantly handsome in his black dinner suit and bow tie, but not nearly as impressive as Jack. As he made his way slowly across the expansive lobby, Vivienne began to see the weakness in Daryl’s features, and foppishness in his walk. She even found new criticism in the way he wore his hair, the streaked blond locks flopping onto his forehead in a style way too young for a man in his thirties.
It pleased Vivienne that she no longer felt one ounce of unhappiness, or jealousy, or envy, over the situation. If anything, she felt a little sorry for Courtney, having Daryl’s baby. He would make a horrible father.
‘Jack!’ Courtney gushed, and reached up to give him a slightly too-long kiss on the cheek, at the same time throwing Vivienne a sharp glance, as though trying to place her. ‘How lovely to see you again. Thank you so much for coming. And thank you for the lovely present you sent.’
Vivienne’s eyebrows arched. He’d sent them a present?
‘My mother always says a girl can’t have too many irons,’ Jack said with a brilliantly straight face whilst Vivienne suppressed a gasp. He’d sent her an iron, this billionaire’s daughter who’d never ironed a thing in her life?
Courtney looked startled, betraying that she’d had no idea what he’d actually sent. There were probably myriad unwrapped presents piled high in one of the myriad bedrooms.
Daryl finally caught up with his fiancée, only to see his ex-fiancée standing in front of him.
‘My God!’ he exclaimed, his voice thin and high. ‘Vivienne!’
Courtney’s blonde head jerked back as she stared at Vivienne, then Daryl, then Jack.
‘Is this some kind of cruel joke?’ she demanded to know, her porcelain-like cheeks flushing with anger.
‘Not at all, Courtney,’ Jack replied as smooth as silk. ‘Daryl’s moved on, and so has Vivienne. She and I have become...good friends. There’s no hard feelings over your stealing her fiancé, are there, Vivienne?’
‘None at all, darling,’ she replied, glad when Jack didn’t bat an eyelid at her endearment. She’d decided on the spur of the moment not to bother tearing verbal strips off Daryl. Just being here with Jack by her side was the best revenge. She could see Daryl was shocked, and most put out. And so was Courtney, which meant she’d known about her all along. She might not have recognised her, the same way her self-absorbed and self-centred father hadn’t recognised her. But she had known. Suddenly, Vivienne didn’t feel sorry for her at all. She was getting what she deserved: Daryl as a husband, with all his vanity, greed and selfishness.
‘You did me a good turn, Courtney,’ Vivienne added with a brilliant smile as she touched Jack tenderly on the arm.
Courtney’s blue eyes darkened appreciably. ‘Really,’ she bit out.
Her father joining them rather stopped any further conversation on the subject.
‘Don’t stand around in the foyer, folks,’ Frank said expansively. ‘Let’s go down to where all the food and wine are being served. I would be totally miffed if you didn’t taste some of the specialities I ordered in, Jack. And you too, Vivienne. Caviar from Russia and truffles from France, not to mention several cases of their best champagne. Nothing like champagne.’
The next half hour went quite well—which meant without anyone creating a scene—with a none-the-wiser Frank plying Jack and Vivienne with champagne and caviar, whilst Courtney eventually took Daryl off somewhere, hopefully to have a lover’s spat. Vivienne wasn’t blind. She could see that Courtney was totally miffed. Vivienne was glad that she’d gone to so much trouble with her appearance. She knew she looked good.
Frank finally left them alone and they wandered out onto the massive back terrace, Vivienne happy not to have to make further chitchat with the kind of people Frank courted: all rich snobs who thought they were better than everyone else, just because they could afford habourside mansions and more than one Picasso.
‘So I’m darling now, am I?’ were Jack’s first words as they strolled alongside the well-lit, Olympic-sized pool. There was no one else around. A pool party, it was not, though there were several portable heaters dotted around for warmth.
‘Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I thought it was a better revenge, his believing I’d moved on almost as quickly as he had. You didn’t mind, did you?’
Of course I minded, Jack thought. But it was impossible to say so. Stupid, too. ‘Not at all,’ he lied. ‘I thought you conducted yourself brilliantly. Much better than you saying things you might regret. Dignity is always the best policy.’
‘I thought honesty was the best policy.’
‘That too.’
‘In that case, I want to tell you how much I appreciate having you by my side tonight, Jack. I can honestly say you are more of a man than Daryl could ever be.’
Jack’s heart lurched in his chest. Hopefully, it didn’t show on his face how much her compliment meant to him. Because, despite her voicing admiration for him, he knew that Vivienne still wasn’t ready yet to fall in love again.
‘That’s sweet of you to say so...darling,’ he added with a cheeky smile, determined to keep a light note to the evening. ‘I presume you don’t want to
leave yet?’
‘I don’t think we should,’ Vivienne answered, despite really wanting to. ‘Frank might be offended, and he’s not a man you should offend. I don’t care for myself but he’d be a dangerous enemy for you to have, Jack.’
‘I don’t give a damn about Ellison. I’ll survive without his patronage. But if you like we’ll stay a while and stick it to Daryl some more.’
‘Good idea. Now, I simply have to go to the ladies’. All this champagne. Wait for me here, would you?’ Handing Jack her now empty glass, she turned and made her way slowly back inside.
Jack watched her go, thinking how classy she was. The kind of woman a man would be lucky to marry.
He sighed, then wandered over to the nearest outdoor setting where he put down the two champagne glasses. He was about to turn and walk back towards the house—he’d made up his mind to collect Vivienne and leave—when he saw Daryl slink out of the pool house, hurriedly doing up his trousers. A sexy-looking brunette followed, giggling and sorting out her own dishevelled clothes. When Daryl saw Jack watching them, he said something to the brunette, who hurried off whilst Daryl sauntered over to Jack with a smarmy guilt lurking in his heavy-lidded eyes.
‘It’s not what you think,’ came the cliché.
‘Why should you care what I think?’ Jack returned coldly.
‘I don’t. I just don’t want you to make trouble for me and Courtney.’
‘I don’t give a damn what you do, mate. Just keep away from Vivienne.’
Daryl laughed. ‘I won’t be going back there, mate. Trust me on that. She’s too screwed up for me. Not only a tidy nut but bloody boring in bed. Lord knows what you see in her. Great body, though. I’ll give her that.’
Jack gritted his teeth. Hard. There was only so much a man in love could take. His right fist shot out before he could stop it, connecting with Daryl’s decidedly soft stomach with the force of a jackhammer. Daryl made a whooshing sound as he doubled over, all the air rushing from his lungs like a pricked balloon. And then he did something even better than collapsing at Jack’s feet. Clutching his stomach, he stupidly tried to straighten up, staggering backwards to the edge of the pool before falling, arms flailing widely, into the water.
He didn’t scream, thank goodness; he possibly didn’t have enough air left in his lungs. Though he did manage some spluttered expletives once he resurfaced, by which time Vivienne had returned from her trip to the toilet.
‘What happened?’ she asked Jack on sighting Daryl floundering in the water. ‘Is he drunk or what?’
‘He hit me!’ Daryl spluttered.
‘He deserved it,’ Jack replied coolly.
Daryl finally made it over to the side of the pool. ‘I’ll get you,’ he threatened. ‘I’ll tell Frank you assaulted me and he’ll ruin you.’
Jack immediately strode over and bent down to grab one of Daryl’s hands, crunching his fingers painfully whilst whispering in his ear at the same time. ‘You say a single word and I’ll tell Courtney all about the brunette I saw you with in the pool house just now.’
That shut him up, especially when Courtney herself made an appearance, also wanting to know what had happened.
‘Just an accident, babe,’ a sodden Daryl said after Jack hauled him out of the water. ‘I bent down to wash my hands and overbalanced. No great drama.’
‘But you’ve ruined your nice new suit!’ she wailed.
‘For Pete’s sake,’ he threw back at her, his temper obviously fraying. ‘It’s just a suit.’
Jack could see the beginning of a nice little argument there. Which was almost as satisfying as hitting the bastard.
‘Come on, Vivienne,’ he said, and took her arm. ‘Let’s go home.’
‘What did you mean by he deserved it?’ she whispered as Jack steered her swiftly back inside the house, across the living room and up the steps to the foyer. ‘What did he say to you to make you hit him?’
‘Later, Vivienne,’ he told her, not sure what reason he would give. Because what Daryl had said would hurt Vivienne and Jack didn’t want to do that. Okay, yes, she was excessively tidy, but to call her screwed up was insulting. As for her being boring in bed... What planet was Daryl from to call her that? Vivienne was anything but boring in bed. It was all decidedly odd.
Fortunately, Vivienne held her tongue till they were in the car and safely away. But he should have known that female curiosity would soon get the better of her.
‘I can’t wait any longer, Jack,’ she said when he pulled up at a set of lights. ‘I’m dying to know what happened between the two of you. And I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.’
Jack winced. ‘Are you sure about that, Vivienne?’
‘Positive. Look, I just want to know what he said to make you hit him. I’ve been thinking, and I presume it was something bad about me.’
‘Not that bad,’ he said.
‘But not too complimentary. Out with it, Jack. No lies now. And no watering down. Give it to me straight.’
‘Okay,’ Jack agreed, seeing that it really was the only way. On the plus side, he could then ask her some questions he’d always wanted to ask. ‘He said you were a tidy nut and boring in bed.’ He decided to leave out the ‘screwed up’ part.
He glanced across in time to see her blush fiercely.
‘I see,’ she said stiffly. ‘Well, I guess he was only telling the truth.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Jack snapped. ‘Okay, so you are a bit uptight when it comes to clutter, but that’s hardly a crime. As for being boring in bed... Well, you and I both know that’s a bald-faced lie,’ he added, trying to bring a smile to her face.
It didn’t.
The lights went green and Jack roared off, upset that the evening looked like it was ending badly.
‘I’m not going to let you go all quiet on me, Vivienne,’ he said firmly when she just sat there in silence. ‘I want to know why Daryl said you were boring in bed. Because it doesn’t make any damned sense to me.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
VIVIENNE KNEW BY the look on Jack’s face that nothing less than the truth would satisfy him. Which was fair enough, she supposed. She just hoped he wouldn’t jump to conclusions over why she’d been different with him sexually. She didn’t want him to think that it was because she’d been falling in love with him, or that this process had probably started long before she was aware of it. For how could you not fall in love with a man who’d come to your rescue with flowers and a fascinating job when you needed it most? A man who’d saved your life and held you close, then made love to you endlessly with a passion which had been as healing as it had been wonderful?
But the coup de grâce was the way Jack had stood up for her tonight. Oh...the satisfaction she’d felt when she’d discovered he’d flattened Daryl, and then when he’d said ‘he deserved it’.
Jack was her hero, her knight in shining armour. The man she loved. Truly, really loved. What she’d felt for Daryl had been nothing more than a mirage.
But she could not tell Jack that. If she did, he would run a mile. And she couldn’t bear that. He might never love her back but she could not voluntarily do anything to lose him. So she would tell him other things. Not lies, exactly, but not the total truth.
‘Could this wait till I get home and out of this dress?’ she said.
He frowned. ‘This isn’t some kind of procrastinating ploy, is it, Vivienne? Because I aim to get some answers. Don’t go thinking you can avoid it by seducing me.’
Vivienne blinked. Now there was a thought! Not the right one, however.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I’m just uncomfortable, that’s all. This dress is dreadfully tight.’
Jack knew she was stalling but he didn’t say anything further, just drove her home and helped her out of
the car and inside, where she fairly bolted for the bedroom, telling him she wouldn’t be long.
He sat down on the black leather sofa, his determination to get answers deepening with the time she took to emerge. When she finally did, she was wrapped in the same fluffy white dressing gown and slippers that she’d worn on that fateful day he’d come here to hire her less than two weeks ago. He suspected she wasn’t wearing anything underneath this time, either. Or not very much. She’d taken the jewelled comb out of her hair, he noted, and spread her hair out onto her shoulders in sexy disarray. As much as she looked good enough to eat, he resolved not to be swayed or distracted from getting those answers he wanted.
‘You want coffee?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind,’ he said, standing up and following her out to the kitchen which was as clean and clutter free as always. Seeing her place again—he hadn’t been inside there lately—underlined the fact that her tidiness did verge on obsessive.
‘I still don’t have much food to offer you,’ she said, and turned from the kettle to give him a small, somewhat wry smile. ‘Someone’s been taking me out to dinner every night.’
‘Lucky you. But I don’t want any food, Vivienne. What I do want is for us to talk.’
Vivienne sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she turned and carried the two mugs of black coffee over to where Jack was already sitting at the kitchen table.
‘First things first,’ he said. ‘Let’s go back to Daryl’s “boring in bed” accusation. I’m presuming, from what you said, that you weren’t the same with him that you are with me. Is that right?’
‘Well...um...yes,’ she admitted with a small shudder. ‘If you must know, I haven’t done most of what I’ve done with you with him.’
Jack’s male ego might have been flattered if he didn’t still worry she might have been indulging in some kind of crazy act with him, brought on by Daryl dumping her. ‘Why was that, do you think? Were you just pretending to be sexy? Acting out some role with me?’