“How long for?” Jane scorned. “When do you intend making your next assault on Richard’s company?” she added disgustedly.
“I don’t assault, Jane,” Gabe drawled derisively. “I acquire companies—”
“By going for the jugular of the owner!” she accused heatedly. “Look for the weakness, and then go for it!”
Gabe looked completely unmoved by her accusation. But those aqua-blue eyes had narrowed and a pulse was beating in his clenched jaw. Maybe he wasn’t as completely lacking in compassion as she had believed…
No, she couldn’t believe that. Three years ago he had been completely ruthless, totally without compassion. It had been his behaviour then that had turned an unbearable situation into a living hell. It was the very reason she had reacted so strongly to Felicity and Richard’s situation. For all the good that had done her—Gabriel Vaughan had taken her emotional response and immediately jumped to the conclusion that she must be having an affair with Richard!
“Every company has its weak spot, Jane,” Gabe mocked now. “But I only acquire the ones that are of interest to me.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I don’t wish to alarm you, Jane, but there appears to be smoke coming from—”
Her second batch of meringues!
Ruined. Burned, she discovered as she quickly opened the oven door and black smoke belched out into the kitchen.
“Don’t be a fool!” Gabe rasped harshly, pushing her none too gently out of the way as she would have pulled the tray from inside the oven. “You open the kitchen door, and I’ll throw the tray out into the garden.” He took the oven-glove from her unresisting fingers. “The door, Jane,” he prompted again firmly as she still didn’t move.
Damn the man, she muttered to herself as she finally went to open the door. She couldn’t remember the last time she had burnt anything, let alone in the middle of a dinner party. But this man had disturbed her so badly that he had achieved it quite easily. She was losing it, damn it. Damn him!
“Out of my way, Jane,” Gabe instructed grimly, going past her to throw the blackened meringues, and the tray, out into the garden.
Jane watched wordlessly as the burnt mess landed outside in the snow. Yes, snow. Somewhere, in the midst of what was turning out to be a terrible evening—the second in a week—it had begun to snow, a layer of white already dusting everything, the overheated tray sizzling and crackling in the coldness.
“Where do you run?”
She turned back to look at Gabriel Vaughan, dismayed at how close he was to her as they both stood in the open doorway, blinking up at him dazedly, the coldness of their breath intertwining. “The park near my apartment. Why?” She frowned her sudden suspicion at the question.
His gaze remained unblinkingly on her own. “Just curious.”
She shook her head, outwardly unmoved by his closeness, but inwardly…! But if she moved away he would merely realise how disturbing she found it to be standing this close to him. And as far as she was concerned he already had enough of an advantage—even if he wasn’t aware of it!
And he could keep his damned curiosity to himself! Not that it really mattered; he had no idea where she lived, and so consequently he wouldn’t know which park it was, either!
“By the look of this snow—” she looked up into a sky that seemed full of the heavy whiteness “—I won’t be running anywhere tomorrow morning.” Her morning run in the nearby park cleared her head and set the tone for the rest of her day, and finding Gabriel Vaughan there, accidentally or otherwise, would totally nullify the exercise!
“A fair-weather runner, hmm?” Gabe drawled derisively.
Her brows rose indignantly over wide sherry-brown eyes. “I don’t—”
“Ah, Gabriel, this is where you’ve been hiding yourself,” murmured a husky female voice. “What on earth is that dreadful smell?” Celia Barnaby, the hostess of the evening, a tall, elegant blonde, wrinkled her nose at the smell of the burnt meringues that still lingered in the kitchen.
Gabe looked down at Jane, winking conspiratorially before turning to stroll across the kitchen to join his hostess. “I believe it was dessert, Celia,” he drawled laughingly, taking a light hold of her arm as he guided her back out of the kitchen. “I think we should leave Jane alone so that she can do her best to salvage it in peace!”
“But—”
“I believe you were going to tell me about the skiing holiday you’re taking in the New Year?” Gabe prompted lightly, continuing to steer the obviously reluctant Celia away from the disaster area. “Aspen, wasn’t it?” He glanced back at Jane over the top of the other woman’s head, his smile one of intimate collusion.
“Damn the man,” Jane muttered to herself as she set about “salvaging” and she didn’t have a lot of time to do it. Her two helpers for the evening were now returning with the empty vegetable dishes, as the main course had just been served.
By the time she had finished arranging the meringues and fruit on the plates, lightly covering the latter with a raspberry sauce, no one would ever have guessed that there should actually have been two meringues on each plate.
Except Gabriel Vaughan, of course. But then, he was the reason for the omission; if she hadn’t been busy fending off his questions then this disaster wouldn’t have happened. She was just too professional, too organised, for this to happen under normal circumstances. But with Gabriel Vaughan once again present it was far from normal!
In fact, she was slightly on edge for the rest of the evening, kept half expecting Gabriel Vaughan to stroll back into the kitchen unannounced; it just didn’t seem to occur to him that the dinner guests weren’t supposed to just stroll about the homes of their host or hostess, let alone go into the kitchen and chat to the hired help! That was his inborn arrogance, Jane decided derisively; Gabriel Vaughan would go where he wanted, when he wanted.
And he would also say exactly what he pleased, even if it was insulting!
She couldn’t even imagine what Richard Warner must be thinking about the other man’s accusations concerning the two of them. It was so ludicrous it would be laughable in other circumstances. As it was, she could imagine that Gabe’s words that Richard “wasn’t too happy” about it were definitely an understatement where Richard was concerned!
It was extremely late by the time she had tidied away the last of the dishes from the meal, and she had to admit she was exhausted. But not from physical work; it was due entirely to tension. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to make her escape before Celia Barnaby came through to the kitchen, the last of her guests having finally left.
And it was unfortunate, because Celia wasn’t one of Jane’s favourite people. She was a beautiful divorcee, who had obviously only married her weak husband for the millions she had been able to take off him as part of their divorce settlement. Jane found her brittle and condescending, altogether too jaded.
Nevertheless she smiled politely at the other woman; she didn’t have to like the people she worked for; it certainly wasn’t conditional to her supplying the superb food she was known for. If that condition had applied two years ago, when she’d first begun this exclusive service, then she would have been out of work within a month!
Celia arched shaped brows. “Have you and Gabriel known each other long?” she enquired lightly.
Jane gave her a startled look. This woman certainly didn’t believe in the “lead up to” approach! “Known each other long…?” she repeated dazedly. The two of them didn’t know each other at all!
“Mmm,” Celia drawled. “Gabriel explained to me that the two of you are old friends.”
“He—!” Jane broke off, swallowing hard. “He said that?” She frowned darkly.
“Don’t be so coy, Jane.” The other woman gave her a knowing smile. “I always thought you were a bit of a dark horse, anyway. And I’ve never understood why you became a brunette; did no one ever tell you blondes have more fun?” she drawled suggestively, looking disparagingly at Jane’s hair.
J
ane was totally stunned. By all that this woman had just said. For one thing, she was surprised this woman had ever spared her a second thought. And she was rendered speechless by that comment about blondes.
The change of colour and style to her hair, she had felt two and a half years ago, had been an important part of the new her. It wasn’t only Gabriel Vaughan she didn’t want recognising her; it wouldn’t do for any of the people she worked for to realise she had once led a similar lifestyle to their own, either, and so the change in her appearance had served a double purpose. Until this moment she had thought the disguise worked, always took care to have her hair coloured once a month. Before now no one had ever told her they knew she was really a blonde!
On top of that Gabriel Vaughan’s claim that the two of them were “old friends” was just too much. Almost a week’s acquaintance did not make them old friends—and she wouldn’t term them as friends anyway!
Unless Gabriel Vaughan did remember her from three years ago, after all, and he was just playing with her…?
“Not very long, no.” She woodenly answered Celia’s original question.
“Pity.” Celia grimaced her disappointment at her answer. “I wondered what his wife had been like. You did know he’s been married, didn’t you?” She looked at Jane fron beneath lowered lashes.
Oh, yes, she knew he had been married, Jane acknowledged with an inward shiver. The death of Gabriel Vaughan’s wife had only added to the spiralling out of control of her own life!
“Yes,” Jane confirmed abruptly. “And surely you saw her photograph in the newspapers at the time of the accident?” She seemed to be having trouble articulating; her lips felt stiff and unmoving. It was so long since anyone had talked about these things…!
“Didn’t everyone? Such a scandal, my dear,” Celia said with obvious relish. “Jennifer Vaughan was so beautiful it made every other woman want to weep!” she added disgustedly. “No, I know what she looked like, Jane; I just wondered what she was really like. I never actually met her, you see; I didn’t know Gabriel in those days.”
Jane had never met Jennifer Vaughan either. But she had come to fear her, and the effect of her beauty.
“I can’t be of any help to you there, I’m afraid, Celia,” she dismissed coolly, wanting to make good her escape now, and it had little to do with the lateness of the hour. All this talk of Jennifer Vaughan; it was unnerving! “I’ve only met Gabriel since the death of his wife, too.” She was deliberately economical with the facts.
For herself she didn’t care if Celia knew she and Gabriel Vaughan had only spoken for the first time a few days ago, but to tell the other woman that, in the face of Gabe’s contradictory claim, would only arouse the other woman’s curiosity even more. And that she didn’t want!
“Oh, well.” Celia straightened, obviously realising she wasn’t going to get much information out of Jane. “It was a marvellous meal this evening, Jane,” she added offhandedly. “You’ll send your bill through, as usual?”
“Of course,” she nodded, and, as usual, Celia would delay paying it for as long as possible; for a woman with millions, she was very loath to pay her bills.
In fact, Jane had thought long and hard before agreeing to cater this dinner party. Celia could be extremely difficult to work for, and with the added problem of her reluctance to pay…
In view of the fact that Gabriel Vaughan had turned out to be one of the guests, she wished she had followed her instincts and said no, Jane told herself as she left the house, a blast of icy snow hitting her in the face. It was—
“Here, let me take that for you.” The box of personal utensils was plucked out of her hands, Gabriel Vaughan grinning at her unconcernedly over the top of it. “Hurry up, Jane,” he encouraged as she stood rooted to the spot, stunned into immobility by his presence. “It’s still snowing!” he pointed out dryly, his mouth twisting derisively as he stated the obvious.
In actual fact, it was snowing heavier than ever, everywhere covered with it now, although luckily the roads looked to be clear. But it wasn’t the snow or the conditions of the road that bothered her. What was Gabriel Vaughan still doing here? She’d thought he’d left some time ago.
She hoped Celia, inside the brightly lit house, didn’t see the two of them outside together! Although, having spoken to Jane, and realising how little she actually knew about Gabriel Vaughan, the other woman had seemed to lose interest. Jane just hoped that Celia hadn’t questioned Gabe in the way she had her—or mentioned the curious fact of Jane’s dyed hair!
“Come on, Jane,” he urged impatiently, both of them having snowflakes in their hair now. “Open up your van, where it’s at least dry!”
She moved automatically to unlock the door and climbed inside, only to turn and find Gabe sitting in the passenger seat beside her. And looking very pleased with himself, too, his smile one of satisfaction now.
“What are you doing here?” Jane snapped irritably; she really had had enough for one night.
His mouth twisted derisively. “That’s a pretty blunt question, Jane,” he drawled.
“I’m a pretty blunt person—Mr Vaughan,” she bit out caustically. “You see, I thought we had said all we have to say to each other earlier.”
He leant his head back against the seat as he gave her a considering look. The snow had melted on his hair, making it look darker than ever in the light blazing out from the house. “What have I ever done to you, Jane, to provoke such animosity? Oh, I’ll accept you don’t like my business practices,” he continued unhurriedly before she could make a reply. “But you said yourself—and Richard confirmed it—that you aren’t involved with him, and Felicity didn’t give me the impression the two of you are big buddies either, so what is the problem you have concerning my business dealings with Richard? You don’t give the impression of someone who takes up a campaign against injustice on someone else’s part—in fact, just the opposite!” He looked at her through narrowed lids.
Jane stiffened at this last statement. “Meaning?” she prompted tautly.
He shrugged. “Meaning you don’t seem to me to be a person that likes to draw attention to yourself. That, like me, you prefer to shun the limelight.”
Her mouth twisted at the latter description. “That sounds a little odd coming from someone whose photograph recently appeared in the daily newspapers!” There had been yet another mention of him yesterday after he’d attended a charity dinner. Thankfully, she hadn’t reacted to it in the way she had the other morning, and she had managed not to spill any of her coffee, either! “But then, you did mention that you’re a sociable person!” she added mockingly.
Again he gave her that considering look, very still as he sat beside her. “Believe it or not, Jane, I hate parties,” he finally drawled. “And dinner parties are even more boring; whoever your dinner companion for the evening turns out to be, you’re stuck with them! And this evening I was stuck between Celia and a woman old enough to be my grandmother!”
In fact, Jane knew, the elderly lady he was referring to was actually Celia’s grandmother, a titled lady that Celia considered of social value. But as she was aged in her seventies, and slightly deaf, it was only too easy to guess why Celia had seated Gabe as she had; given the choice between talking to an elderly, slightly deaf lady and the beautiful Celia, Gabe would be sure to spend the majority of the evening talking to Celia herself. Except for those ten minutes or so when Gabe had joined Jane in the kitchen.
“You hide your aversion to dinner parties very well,” Jane told him dryly.
“You know exactly why I was at Richard and Felicity’s that evening,” Gabe rasped. “Would you like to hear why I was here tonight?” He quirked dark brows challengingly.
She looked at him, recognising that challenge, and suddenly she knew, in view of Celia’s call this morning concerning two extra guests, that Gabe’s reason for being here tonight was the last thing she wanted to hear!
“It’s late, Mr Vaughan.” She straightened in her se
at, putting the key in the ignition in preparation for leaving. “And I would very much like to go home now,” she added pointedly.
Gabe nodded. “And exactly where is home?” he prompted softly.
She glanced at him sharply. “London, of course,” she answered warily.
Gabe’s mouth twisted wryly. “It’s a big place,” he drawled. “Close to one of the parks, I imagine— Your running, Jane,” he explained at her sharp look. “But couldn’t you be a little more specific?” he coaxed softly.
No, she couldn’t; her privacy was something she guarded with the ferocity of a lioness over her den! And her apartment was her final point of refuge.
“You’re a very difficult woman to pin down, Jane Smith,” he murmured at her continued silence. “No one I’ve spoken to about you seems to have any idea where you live. Clients contact you by telephone, bills are paid to a post office box number, there’s none of the usual advertising on the side of your van—in fact, it’s unmarked.” He shook his head. “Why all the secrecy, Jane?”
Jane stared at him with wide sherry-coloured eyes. He had talked to people about her? Tried to find out where she lived? Why?
“Why?” he repeated questioningly—making her aware that she had spoken the word out loud. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Jane Smith?” he asked her huskily, suddenly much closer in the confines of the van. “And your damned elusiveness only makes you all the more intriguing!” He was so close now, the warmth of his breath stirred the wispy strands of her fringe.
She couldn’t move, was held mesmerised by the intensity of those aqua-blue eyes, was transfixed by the sudden intimacy that had sprung up between them. “Jane—”
“I don’t think so, Mr Vaughan.” She flinched away from the caressing hand he laid against the nerve pulsing in her throat, straightening again in her seat, moving away from him as she did so. “Now, would you please get out of my van?” she said angrily—not sure if that anger was directed at him or herself.
The Yuletide Engagement & A Yuletide Seduction Page 19