The click of heels coming down the corridor to the office let her know Alice was about to join them, and she could feel the smile spread across her face as the woman’s blonde ringlets appeared in the doorway.
“Olivia,” she called in greeting.
Amory stood and let Alice hug her.
“Alice, this is Tim Roberts. He’ll be in charge of making sure you have tons of fabulous photos to remember your day.”
Alice smiled at Tim.
“I’m so excited. We’re all so excited. It’s going to be fabulous!” Alice bounced up and down on the spot.
At Alice’s childlike enthusiasm Amory felt a spark of pleasure. She had met Alice on her first day at the estate.
“Alice, I’d like you to meet the photographer for your event.”
“Lovely to meet you, Alice,” Tim greeted, extending his hand.
Alice shook his hand enthusiastically.
“You too, Tim. My friends and I can’t wait for next week. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad I have no sense of direction,” Alice said with a beaming smile.
At Robert’s frown of confusion, Amory explained.
“Alice managed to get lost on one of the New Year open house days and found her way here on my first day working for the Duke. We got chatting and this idea came up.”
During their chat Alice had shared her book club’s obsession with wine and Mr. Darcy and the fact the club gave them an excuse to escape their respective broods. Alice’s casual reference to wishing they could have a fancy dinner like in those books had led to a somewhat excitable discussion about whether they could do it at the house. But Amory didn’t think Roberts would appreciate all of those details.
“Yes, and Olivia managed to persuade the Duke to let us go ahead,” Alice added.
“Seems an unusual project for a secretary on her first day,” Roberts said, giving her a sideways look.
She knew he thought she was wasting her time when she should be focused on the mission, but she’d had plenty of time on her hands and it had all been fairly easy to organize, besides which, making the arrangements was a great cover for popping out over the last couple of weeks to coordinate her real plans with Holly as well as occupying her brain while she had waited for Berishka to make contact.
“Okay, so some shots in the drawing room,” Amory said.
“Yes, and we absolutely must have some in the library. We could pretend to cross-stitch,” Alice said.
Roberts stalked silently behind them. His face looked like thunder but at least he was taking notes, Amory thought as they headed out of the drawing room to check out the library.
Looking up, she froze at the sight of Jackson walking toward them barefoot. He’d removed his top and was wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans. Rivulets of sweat were tracing lines down the hard planes of his chest and torso, leaving tracks in his dust-covered skin. Her brain shut down completely as she simply stared, taking in the grown-up man Jack had become.
“Hi,” he said walking over to them and pushing his hair out of his face.
“You must be Alice?” he addressed their visitor even though his eyes were fixed on Amory.
“Yes, I just adore your home, it’s beautiful,” Alice replied.
“Well, it’s my brother’s, but thanks.” He continued to meet Amory’s gaze as he spoke.
Amory blinked hard and forced herself to look away from the dark eyes that seemed to see right through her. Alice continued to chat about the plans for the lunch and photoshoot, and when after a few more minutes of small talk Jackson made his excuses to leave, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
His parting words sounded more like a promise than anything else, and made her heart pound.
Amory watched Jackson head up the stairs, only turning her attention back to Alice and Roberts when he had disappeared from sight.
Alice looked up at her, her eyes wide.
“Oh. My. God! I think I might have actually drooled. That man is hot. How are you still standing there?”
Fighting to push away the images of Jackson’s incredible body and the many and varied things she’d like to do to it aside, she frowned.
“What?”
“That man was staring at you so hard. He’s so into you, I don’t know how you didn’t just spontaneously combust.”
“No, he’s not,” she said. She didn’t really want to face the fact that any intensity on his part was far more likely to be about what she’d done to him than any physical attraction they might have for one another.
“Seriously? You can’t see it? If that man had looked at me the way he looked at you, I’d have had him naked before he could have taken another breath.”
“Trust me, it’s not like that,” she said.
“Has Woman’s Hour finished now?” grumbled Roberts.
Despite the effort he’d obviously made to keep his tone light, Amory could still see the sneer in his eyes and squared her shoulders. He was right. This really wasn’t what was important.
Moving the mixer tap back and forth, attempting to coax the ancient plumbing into giving him a half decent temperature for his shower, Jackson rolled his shoulder. The ache from felling trees all afternoon was spreading across his muscles. It helped to distract him from the way his mind kept obsessively returning to Amory and the look she’d given him when he’d bumped into her with the visitors earlier in the day.
Shucking off his jeans, he stepped into the shower. It wasn’t as warm or relaxing as his power shower at home, but he sent a silent prayer of thanks to whichever mischievous deity was responsible for the water in the house, that it wasn’t scalding or icy cold for once. He lathered his hands with the basic bar of soap that had gone hard since his last stay and found his mind wandering to the very first time he had seen Amory.
A combination of fear and determination had shone from her face when she’d turned up at the squat he was staying in. After his mother’s death, life had been pretty confusing, and after years of being basically ignored by his father he’d rebelled against the sudden turnabout. Years of indifference had shifted overnight to an oppressive dictatorial presence. Every move he’d made had been scrutinized and found wanting, usually in a voice so booming, it was likely everyone in a five-mile radius was aware of just how much Jackson disappointed his father. Weeks of it combined with his own grief had made him petulant, and rather than return to finish his last months of university, he had dropped off the grid.
He’d finally found himself in a squat in a nondescript county town, with no idea what he was going to do next. Until Amory had arrived. After that nothing mattered beyond her. She had become the only thing he could see and they had spent night after night sitting together just talking. He hadn’t wanted her to think badly of him for running away, hadn’t wanted to mar what they had with what he was escaping from, so he hadn’t ever told her about his parents. He’d wanted her to know and respect him as a man, and she had given him the most precious gift she could—herself.
She had made the rest of the world fade away by just being there and he’d been unable to imagine life without her. The night they had made love had been the most incredible one of his life. He’d known in an instant that, no matter what else life threw at him, he’d be okay because he had Amory. Yet what had he done? The very next day he had ignored her protests and betrayed the values they had discussed so passionately night after night. He’d joined their “squat mates” who found themselves a man short and managed to get himself arrested in the process.
He couldn’t blame her for disappearing after that. Just thinking about his stupidity made his stomach churn. He’d thought he could use the opportunity to make some money and get himself and Amory out of that dump for good. He’d been an idiot. As he lathered soap along his arms he traced the tattoo he’d had done by his cellmate in prison. It wasn’t particularly neat but he’d never regretted getting it. He’d wanted a physical re
minder of the price he’d paid, and of what he was striving for.
Seeing Amory again made it impossible to keep ignoring all those memories. He had to figure out a way to face the past. Maybe this was what he needed. One thing was becoming crystal clear. He needed to come to terms with his past, and Amory’s forgiveness was the only thing that would let him do that.
If he could get her to forgive him, perhaps he could move on and become the man he’d never been able to trust himself to be, and the only way he was going to pull that off was if he stuck around. Stepping out of the shower he dried off quickly and hunted for his mobile phone. It looked like he needed to make arrangements to keep the business going without him for a bit longer.
Chapter Twelve
Much as she’d like to avoid dinner, and the brothers, she needed to stop them spending too much time alone together. If she was there she at least had half a chance of stopping them from discovering they both knew the truth about her identity, something that was sure to send William into a spiral of panic.
Serving up the delicious-smelling beef stew which Maggie had left simmering, Amory was glad her reluctance to let the brothers spend too much time alone together had pushed her to join them for dinner. She sensed someone watching her and spun around, feeling a heat rise through her face as she took in Jackson’s damp hair. His faded t-shirt and jeans clung to every line of his muscular frame and she forced herself to meet his gaze. He looked at her with an intensity that made her breath stutter. Heat uncurled in her stomach, desire burning away the edges of her tension.
Despite her best intentions she began to take a step toward Jackson just as William entered the kitchen. His presence worked as effectively as a bucket of cold water, and embarrassed, she began to babble self-consciously about the plans for the photo shoot.
“You won’t need to be there but we will be using a number of the rooms during the morning and the dining room for the lunch,” she said as she sat down to eat.
As they made quick work of the delicious meal, William raised their travel plans for the next day.
“We will certainly be gone all day but should be back for the evening.” He looked at Amory for her nod of confirmation before turning to Jackson. “What time are you departing?”
Jackson raised his eyes to look at her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in that sexy half-smile of his as he answered.
“Change of plans. I thought I’d stick around for a bit,” he said, then pausing for a beat he added, “Some things I’d like to take care of.”
His answer made her look directly in his chocolate eyes for the first time since William had entered the kitchen. The twinkle of mischief in them caused her to blink rapidly before she quickly looked away again.
“Of course, I know Ed appreciates the help,” William answered, blithely assuming Jackson was talking about his work on the estate.
“If you will be here tomorrow evening, shall we go for dinner, then you can join me and attend the Ainsworths’ party? I know they would appreciate your presence,” he suggested. He turned his attention to Amory to confirm that she had arranged for James his driver to collect them at eight a.m.
“Yes, I have, William.”
“Well, don’t be late and make sure you dress and behave appropriately.”
Swallowing her irritation, she acknowledged that William was better placed to know what a secretary-cum-bit on the side would wear.
As politely as she could manage she ground out a reply. “What do you suggest I wear?”
“Wear the lilac or plum suit, but not with one of those awful t-shirt things you insist on, a proper blouse will be more appropriate. Ensure you wear heels but not overly high ones. It is a business meeting, not a night out.”
She nodded her agreement as the list of instructions continued and fought the urge to roll her eyes.
From the edge of her vision she could see Jackson’s eyes widen, his head swinging back and forth as she and William spoke. She fought to keep her demeanor relaxed and accepting. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to be curious about her being there.
“Unusual for such a well-dressed woman to need the advice of her boss on how to dress,” Jackson drawled when William’s seemingly endless list of suggestions had finished.
“Some of us can’t spend all our time in worn-through jeans,” Amory retorted. Damn, where were the snappy responses when she needed them? She sounded like a petulant teenager rather than a capable adult.
“Why would what you wear matter? Surely skills are more important?” he asked.
Head tilted, he gave her a half-smile that made it clear clothes of any kind were entirely superfluous for the kind of skills he was referring to.
“Skills are very important, that’s why experience matters so much.”
“Some of us have plenty of both,” Jackson smiled
“I’m not sure that’s something to brag about,” she said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as she tried to drag the conversation onto safer ground.
Jackson spent the rest of the evening teasing and despite herself, she had fun. His presence softened William and it was a pleasure to see the way the brothers encouraged each other. The fact that bickering with Jackson was the most fun she’d had in years had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Getting ready the next morning, Amory followed all of William’s instructions while running the plans for the day through her mind. She was good at what she did because she knew when to take other people’s advice and experience. In this case it was William’s direction on outfits. The better she lived the role, the better their chance of pulling this off. The hours before a mission were always the most stressful, but years of practice allowed her to control her tension. While she was apprehensive about the meeting, she was hyped about them finally getting a face-to-face with Berishka.
The morning was fresh and crisp with a mild frost trying to cling to the glittering cobwebs and the shaded tips of the lawn in the muted sunlight. She smiled at James, a local lad who had been working at the estate for a few months as he held the car door for her.
As she climbed into the silver vehicle she glanced back to the house, her eyes drawn to the library window where despite the refractions of the aged glass she could feel Jackson’s stare.
As the door closed she let out a sigh. A day away from here was a real necessity. Rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers, she wished that his only desire wasn’t for revenge when hers was all about him. She jerked upright, the seat belt yanking on her shoulder. Where had that come from?
William cleared his throat to draw her attention. Glancing around she realized she had been so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed their surroundings change as they slipped away from the sun-dappled lanes of the countryside. They were now passing through the rundown high-rise estates that made up the periphery of the city. Her gaze settled on William as she blinked repeatedly, trying to return from the thoughts that had engrossed her. She needed to do her job now and that meant helping William relax.
The Royal Automobile Club loomed beside them as the car stopped. James held the door and offered Amory his hand as she climbed out. The simple columns of the building added grandeur to an already exclusive part of the city. A steady stream of suited men and women flowed through the doors with a polite welcome from the doorman. A smartly dressed woman approached them.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” she greeted William, who acknowledged her with a slight nod.
“May I take your coat, madam?” the woman asked, turning her attention to Amory.
“That’s fine, thank you. I’ll keep it with me,” she replied, stepping back from the woman’s outstretched hand.
“You cannot keep your coat on in here. Just do as you are told,” William snapped without looking at her.
He’s stressed, he’s stressed, he’s not a total prat, went the mantra in Amory’s head. Rolling her eyes at the pomposity of it all, she slipped her coat off an
d reluctantly handed it over, surreptitiously checking that she hadn’t left any of her listening equipment in the pockets and mentally running through the meeting preparations. She probably couldn’t get away with patting William’s ankle but figured he’d let her know quickly enough if his microphone had shifted, so she made do with discretely touching the one taped to her cleavage. She was thankful that she was experienced enough to manage her own recording equipment these days, she certainly didn’t miss the days of techies fumbling away in her bra. There might not be much there, but her B cups had made many a tech break out in a sweat over the years.
Taking in the sparkling marble flooring and opulent decorations, she was a little surprised. With its heritage in motor cars she had expected something a little more like a fancy garage rather than a six-star hotel. Not that she had a great deal of experience with either. Although, considering William’s preferences for the grand, she wasn’t sure why she had imagined he would be a member of a private club any less decadent. She could just picture Jackson stalking through these corridors, making no effort to comply with the jacket and tie rules, her mind’s eye creating the appalled looks that would no doubt cross the members’ faces. He certainly wouldn’t pay heed to any dress code, and she could guess at the visceral reaction of the few women she had spotted throughout the building to an injection of real masculinity. Allowing herself a small smile she followed William into the members’ lounge. It was certainly a nice change of pace not to have to wonder what she might be walking through while she was trying to focus on the task at hand.
Settling herself into the wingback chair next to the one William had chosen, she caught the attention of the room manager, clocking his gold name badge.
“Neil, I was wondering if you could help?”
“Of course, madam, how can I assist?”
Shadows of Our Past Page 6