She moved awkwardly. ‘Yes, but this isn’t a beach, and we—we’re alone up here.’
Jarrod threw the towel down on to the bed, shrugging his powerful shoulders into a black silk shirt and buttoning it with unhurried fingers. ‘You only have to make the slightest noise of protest and my mother and father would be up here like a shot.’ He tucked his shirt back into the waistband of his trousers. ‘They’re the best chaperones you could ever wish to have.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that—’
‘You’re a prude,’ he finished dryly. ‘It was only a bare chest, Brooke, nothing more. I was more than adequately dressed.’
‘It’s just that I don’t know you. You took me by surprise.’ She was making verbal excuses for her purely physical reaction to him. Her pulse had began to beat erratically at the sight of him, her breathing constricted.
‘I’ll have to remember not to do it again until you know me better,’ he said sarcastically.
‘There’s no need to mock!’ she retorted crossly.
‘Then don’t be so damned stupid! You couldn’t have been more shocked if I’d been completely naked. You’re twenty years of age, surely your life hasn’t been that sheltered that a man with his shirt off can throw you into confusion? You must have had boy-friends in the past.’
‘A few,’ she admitted. ‘But none of them ever acted the way you do.’
‘All of them gentlemen, hmm?’
‘Yes.’
‘Something we’ve already agreed I’m not.’
‘Yes,’ she said sharply. ‘If you’re ready to go down, Mr Stone, I—’
He grasped her wrist as she turned to leave the room. ‘Jarrod!’ he snapped savagely. ‘I thought I told you to call me Jarrod. If you can’t manage a simple thing like that you’re going to make complete fools out of both of us. Now say it! And manage to put a bit of feeling into it. Go on, say it!’
‘Jarrod,’ it came out as a strangulated cry, his fingers painful on her wrist.
‘Again,’ he ordered. ‘And say it properly this time.’
‘I—I can’t. You’re hurting me,’ she cried.
‘Brooke!’ he warned.
‘All right, all right. But let go of my arm first.’ She sighed as he released her, rubbing the reddened skin. ‘You’re a bully,’ she accused.
‘You do seem to bring out those feelings in me,’ he agreed.
She pouted sulkily. ‘Jarrod,’ she said obediently, softly, with feeling. How well his name rolled off the tongue, and how nice it sounded.
He grinned down at her. ‘Just try to keep it like that and they’ll all believe you’re in love with me.’
‘Jarrod,’ she repeated, looking up at him below lowered lashes, feeling more than usually shy with him alone in the intimacy of his bedroom.
To the girl entering the room at that moment they looked like a couple very much in love with each other, with Brooke gazing up into Jarrod’s eyes and he grinning down at her, his expression softened.
‘Am I intruding?’ Angie asked mischievously.
Her brother turned to look at her. ‘Would it stop you if you were?’
She grinned. ‘No. I came to look for Brooke, and when she wasn’t in her room I knew she must be in here with you—’ she blushed as she realised what she had said. ‘What I mean is—’
Jarrod laughed at her embarrassment. ‘I think we know what you mean, Angie. Why were you looking for Brooke, as if I couldn’t guess?’ he grimaced.
She made a face at him. ‘I came to ask her if she would like to see my studio, away from you oldies for a while.’
‘Minx!’ He made a threatening step towards her, relenting as she looked set for flight. ‘What did Mum say about your little idea?’
‘She told me to wait until after tea.’
‘I agree with her.’
Angie looked appealingly at Brooke. ‘Wouldn’t you rather—’
‘Tea first,’ Jarrod said firmly. ‘We’ve had quite a long drive here and we both need a drink and something to eat. No,’ he silenced her as she made to speak, ‘it can wait until later. Brooke?’ he held out his hand to her.
She put her own hand into it, feeling the firm strength of his grasp. Amongst his family he was a different person, laughing and teasing, not at all the severe businessman she was used to seeing, and much less frightening.
They were a closely knit family, and made Brooke feel like one of them. By the time tea was over she found herself feeling very much as if she had come home, and she felt guilty about these feelings. She was deceiving these kindly people, living a lie. She could only feel relieved when Angie renewed her suggestion that she might like to look at her studio.
‘Of course, Jarrod is right,’ Angie said as she led the way up the stairs. ‘I’m not that good, but I do enjoy it, and I think I could make a career for myself in advertising.’
‘I’m sure Jarrod didn’t—’
Angie laughed. ‘Oh yes, he did. My brother is nothing if not honest.’ She threw open the door to her studio.
There were numerous sketches and paintings on the walls, all very good likenesses of her family. There was a half finished portrait on the easel next to the window, but it was already clearly recognisable as Clifford Stone.
Brooke turned to look at the younger girl. ‘This is very good.’
‘Thank you, although it isn’t very easy to get Daddy to sit still. He may be retired, but he’s still very active. I have some sketches of Jarrod if you’d like to see them?’
These sketches were in a separate portfolio, a few firm lines on paper showing Jarrod’s strong face perfectly. ‘These are even better,’ Brooke said softly.
Angie grinned. ‘Jarrod refuses to sit still for five seconds, but he has such an arresting face that I just had to try and get him on paper. Handsome devil, isn’t he?’
‘Very,’ Brooke agreed unhesitantly.
‘He’s kept you a big secret, you know. Mummy and Daddy were very surprised when they saw yesterday’s newspapers. They called Jarrod immediately and he confirmed that it was him. Where did you meet?’
She ought to have realised that Jarrod’s sister would ask personal questions, but she hadn’t, and now she wasn’t ready for them. ‘We met at work,’ she answered evasively.
‘And have you known him long?’
‘About six months,’ she said truthfully.
Angie raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘I always knew Jarrod was clam-like about his friends, but we’ve heard absolutely nothing about you. I suppose that proves just how serious he was about you.’
Or more likely that he hadn’t even known of her existence, which happened to be the truth. She quickly changed the subject, channelling it into something much less personal to herself.
Dinner proved much less traumatic than she had imagined too. Seated next to Dave she was suitably entertained with the antics of his medical training. Despite all the hard work that went into the training Dave appeared to be having a lot of fun.
Brooke enjoyed his company, finding him much more approachable than Jarrod. He was younger for one thing, much less cynical and worldly. He looked like Jarrod in some ways, with his dark hair and powerful physique, but he had the laughing blue eyes of his father.
Jarrod came to sit beside her on the sofa as they drank their coffee in the lounge after dinner. ‘Stop flirting with my little brother,’ he warned her softly, a smile on his face for the other people in the room but a dangerous glitter in his eyes for her.
‘Not so little,’ she muttered resentfully.
‘Keep your sharp little claws out of him. You’ve managed to trick me into a phoney engagement, don’t try to get him into a real one. I wouldn’t let him marry you, you know.’
Her eyes glittered deeply violet. ‘A little premature, aren’t you? We only met today.’
‘We only met yesterday—and we’re engaged now.’
‘Only temporarily,’ she said crossly.
‘Right. So don’t get any ideas
about Dave. He has his life pretty well mapped out for the next few years, and it doesn’t include a wife.’
Her eyes spat her dislike at him. ‘I don’t intend marrying you or your brother.’
‘You may have to,’ he pointed out. ‘If our supposed wedding date is spread about too much.’
‘That doesn’t mean I have to marry you. Playing your fiancée is something I don’t mind doing, especially as I was the one who started all this, but marriage is a different matter.’ Brooke put her empty coffee cup down on the table. ‘I think I’d like to go to my room now, would your family mind?’
‘It doesn’t matter if I do?’ he drawled.
‘No.’
‘Then go ahead,’ he told her grimly.
She stood up, excusing herself before leaving the room, closely followed by Jarrod. ‘Where are you going?’ she demanded angrily. ‘To make sure I don’t run away?’
He looked bored. ‘The idea never crossed my mind. I’m trying to look the part of the loving fiancé. Coming to your room for a long and passionate goodnight seemed to be called for.’
Brooke gave him a scathing look before going determinedly up the stairs to her room. She hesitated at her bedroom door. ‘There’s no need for you to come any further.’
Jarrod’s look was taunting. ‘Frightened I might give you a repeat of last night?’
She blushed a fiery red. She had hoped he had forgotten last night, deliberately keeping off any subject herself that could bring that embarrassing interlude into the conversation. But it seemed Jarrod wasn’t going to forget so easily. ‘Certainly not!’ she replied indignantly.
He watched her through narrowed eyes. ‘That was a punishment, you know.’
She glared her dislike at him. ‘I never presumed it to be anything else,’ she snapped, going into the room and slamming the door behind her.
She leant back against the door, her mouth set in a firm straight line. How dared he treat her like an impressionable child who had fallen in love with him! How dared he! Her shoulders slumped; he dared because until a few weeks ago that was exactly what she had been.
And now she found herself falling into that trap again. Jarrod was everything she had ever dreamt him to be and more. If only he weren’t having an affair with a married woman!
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was happening again, that terrible nightmare that she couldn’t escape from, that came to haunt her when she least expected it. She tossed restlessly about in the bed, anxious to free herself from the nightmare before it reached its terrifying climax, but knowing it would be impossible.
Tears streamed down her face as she witnessed once again with startling clarity the way her mother and father were laughing together, the sun shining down on them brightly as the three of them drove down to the coast for the day.
Her father hadn’t seen the man driving at them on the wrong side of the road until it was too late. The screech of brakes were amplified now in her dream, her mother’s scream echoing time and time again in her brain. The car rolled over and over again until blackness took over and she woke up screaming.
Instantly the room was flooded with light, and a tousled-haired, pyjama-clad Jarrod rushed into the room. His face creased into a concerned frown as he saw Brooke’s pale cheeks, the tears still flowing freely. He came swiftly to her side. ‘What’s the matter? What happened?’
Brooke buried her face into his chest. ‘Oh, Jarrod, it was awful, awful!’ she sobbed brokenly.
‘What was?’ he demanded, holding her against him.
‘The dream. I had the dream again.’ The sobs were easing now. ‘It’s so long since it last happened I’d almost forgotten about it.’
His grey eyes were still darkened with concern as he held her at arm’s length, searching her deathly white face for several long seconds. ‘What dream, Brooke?’ he asked gently. ‘Tell me about it.’
‘I—I can’t. I’ve never spoken to anyone about it.’
‘Tell me,’ he said persuasively. ‘After all, I was the one you cried out for.’
Her eyes widened with disbelief. ‘You were?’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘You called out my name several times before I got in here.’
This surprised Brooke, as she usually called her father’s name. She looked worried. ‘Do you think I woke the rest of your family?’
‘Well, no one has turned up yet, so I would say no. I only heard you because I was next door and I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Look,’ he stood up, ‘if I pick you up and take you back to my room will you question my intentions?’
‘No.’ She was shaking so much she just wanted to be back in his arms, held safe from that horrifying nightmare. She didn’t want to stay in this room where the memory of that nightmare was so vivid.
Jarrod carried her to his room without another word, placing her gently between the sheets before getting in next to her, holding her against him with his arm about her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. ‘Now tell me about your dream, Brooke,’ he coaxed.
She shivered at the memory of it. ‘It was the accident—the accident that killed my parents. I saw it again—the crash, the way the car rolled over and over. I was unconscious before the car stopped turning.’
‘How old were you?’ he asked.
‘Five.’
‘And that’s when you went to live with your aunt?’
‘Yes. You see, I was only kept in hospital for forty-eight hours and apparently the medical staff thought it better for my aunt to tell me of my parents’ death in the comfort of her home, away from the clinical atmosphere. But she—my aunt didn’t care, she didn’t care for my father, or the fact that he had married my mother. She—she woke me up the night I came out of hospital to tell me they were both dead.’
Jarrod looked grim. ‘She woke you up to tell you that?’
Brooke snuggled closer to him, repressing a shiver. ‘Yes,’ she admitted huskily. ‘Ever since then I’ve had these nightmares periodically. But the time between each one is getting longer and longer, this is the first one I’ve had for about a year.’
His arms tightened about her. ‘That woman had no right to have the care of a young child given to her!’
‘She was kind enough in her own way, maybe hurting me was her way of showing her grief.’
He reached out his hand and switched off the light, instantly putting the room into darkness. ‘Go to sleep now, Brooke. You’re quite safe, I’m here with you.’
‘But I—I can’t stay here,’ she protested.
His warm breath ruffled the hair at her temple. ‘You aren’t going back into that room on your own. You’re obviously still upset. You’ll stay here with me. Go to sleep now, I’ll stay awake until I know you’re asleep.’
‘Thank you.’
She felt his lips at her temple and her feelings changed to something quite different from fear. She was here in Jarrod Stone’s bed being held in his arms. It was still frightening, but fear of another kind.
‘Go to sleep, Brooke,’ he ordered abruptly. ‘And stop letting your imagination run riot. I think you’ve had enough of an upset for one night, so let me assure you I have no intention of doing anything to upset you any more. We can talk again in the morning.’
Brooke didn’t think she could possibly sleep held in his arms like this, but the even rise and fall of his chest soon lulled her into a false sense of security, and within minutes she was asleep.
She woke slowly the next morning, wondering where she could possibly be. Then she remembered. As she looked down at the dark head resting on her breasts, Jarrod Stone was still very much asleep. His arm rested about her waist, his body moulded to her side.
She could just see the angle of his face, softened now in sleep. He looked younger, but just as handsome. And she had slept in his bed with him all night! She was sure that none of his friends would believe that they had spent the last few hours together in this bed and he hadn’t made one single pass at her. She wasn’t sure she believed i
t herself. With his reputation she would have expected something quite different; maybe she was even a little disappointed.
But she didn’t have time to puzzle over that, because at that moment someone came unannounced into the bedroom. Brooke felt her heart sink as she recognised Angie, an Angie who hadn’t seen her yet because she was preoccupied with fastening her wrist-watch to her arm.
‘Come on, Jarrod! It’s—’ her voice trailed off as she saw Brooke cradled in her brother’s arms, her cheeks colouring a fiery red. ‘Oh dear, what have I done now?’ she groaned. ‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘You haven’t,’ Brooke said firmly, gently shaking Jarrod to wake him up. ‘I— We—’
‘Hey, come on, Jarrod! You can’t—’ Dave too stood transfixed in the doorway. He took Angie’s arms, pulling her out of the door. ‘Excuse us, Brooke. We didn’t realise.’ With a cheeky grin he closed the door behind them.
Brooke shook Jarrod more forcefully. ‘Wake up, will you?’ she demanded. ‘Jarrod! Wake up!’
He lay on his back, stretching his arms above his head. ‘Mm,’ he groaned. ‘What time is it?’ He looked at her with sleepy eyes.
‘Never mind the time,’ she retorted crossly. ‘We’ve just had visitors.’
‘Really?’ he asked disinterestedly, turning on his side to look at the clock on the side table. ‘Angie or Dave?’
‘Both. But how did you know?’ she frowned.
He shrugged, pushing back the bedclothes to get out of bed. He stretched again. ‘It’s a bit cramped in there for two people.’
‘How did you know it was either your sister or your brother?’ she repeated to cover her embarrassment.
‘Because it’s after seven-thirty and when I’m home we always go for a ride at seven-fifteen. Obviously they thought I’d slept in and they’d come to wake me.’
‘Oh, obviously,’ she said dryly. ‘Don’t you care that they saw us together in this bed—and drew their own conclusions?’
Jarrod raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s the point of worrying about it? I’m sure that by now Angie has rushed in and told my mother too.’
‘Oh no!’ She paled. ‘I couldn’t bear it! And I certainly couldn’t face your mother and father again if they’ve been told.’
Engaged to Jarrod Stone Page 6