“Why are you skulking here?” demanded Lynette a few minutes later. “I know you don’t like these sorts of affairs, but playing hide and seek behind the curtains is weird, even for you.”
“This is the best place for me. I can people watch to my heart’s content.” Especially one person whom she didn’t want to encounter in a pink fit.
“But you’re not mixing.”
“I’m blending, though. There’s a subtle but significant difference.”
“The only blending you’re doing is with the curtain.”
“You’re wrong. You just haven’t seen me when I’ve been chatting.” She batted her eyelashes. Then, to keep Lynette happy, she added, “So fill me in on who is here. What’s the gossip?”
Lynette took the bait and sat down next to her to tell her about a load of local people Fen would probably never meet again. Finally Lynette got around to mentioning Annabelle’s brother whom Fen did—but didn’t—want to know about.
“So what’s his story?” Fen fished. Her eyes downcast, she pleated the velvet folds of her skirt over and over again with fingers that trembled slightly, much to her annoyance. But she affected a neutral tone. No way did she want to alert Lynette to the depth of her interest in James. Yes, so her curiosity was aroused, but Lynette didn’t need to be privy to that.
“Forty, single, successful and attractive. Annabelle is always complaining about his Gorgeous Gazelles, so I told her about your agency.”
“Gorgeous Gazelles?” That little gem hadn’t appeared on his résumé his sister gave her.
“He serial dates models. They’re tall, slim and flighty. Did she contact you?”
“Belle McAllister,” said Fen in a flat monotone.
“I’m sorry?”
“You, dear sister, didn’t tell me Annabelle Saunders was Belle McAllister.” Doomsday for Fen. She’d marched smack into danger and only some pretty fast-talking would get her marched straight out of it.
“McAllister is Annabelle’s maiden name. Is it relevant?”
“To me, yes. Annabelle bought a membership for her brother’s birthday present last week.”
“And?”
Fen groaned and dropped her head in her hands. “James McAllister is the man I’m trying to avoid,” she said, her voice muffled by the tightness in her throat.
“Oh Lord.”
“And I want to go home. Now!” She lifted her head and stared hard at Lynette. “And no quibbling, sister.”
****
When he saw the crowded party, James’ heart sank. Annabelle had excelled herself. She’d pulled out all the stops, along with extra bells and whistles. So much for the small celebration to mark his fortieth. Obviously her idea of small and his were poles apart.
The party was in full swing. He greeted old friends and acquaintances and wished he were a hundred miles away. Better still, he wished he were having an intimate drink with the engaging Ms. Grant in some dimly lit, secluded bar where it was just the two of them. But the experience would have to remain on hold for the foreseeable future, mainly because of the reluctance of Ms. Grant to go out with him, but also because he couldn’t disappoint Annabelle. She’d gone to so much effort to stage this party, so he’d better make the best of the evening ahead.
James squared his shoulders and curved his lips into a determined smile. Time to do the party circuit. He strode with purposeful bonhomie into the room and with gracious regard for his sister’s reputation, was polite to everyone. Several minutes into his ordeal James felt a prickle at the back of his neck, as if he was being watched with the intenseness of a laser beam. He did a quick scan of faces before being monopolized by a beautiful, tall blonde whom he’d dated on a couple of occasions during the summer.
The woman failed to hold his complete attention and James let his gaze wander back around the room. It skimmed over a slight young woman in a black dress who was in earnest conversation with another woman whom James recognized as one of Annabelle’s close friends from the village. His gaze moved on, only to bounce back a split second later.
The crazy cropped hair. Pale skin. The incredible fine bone structure and air of fragility. He’d know her anywhere. His heart pounded an excited beat, thumping against his ribcage and causing his pulse to echo the rhythm. Now, suddenly, the evening was on a definite upward swing. Thank you, Belle.
“Excuse me,” said James, cutting the blonde off in mid-sentence. “I’ve just seen someone I must talk to.”
He elbowed his way through the chattering couples and zeroed in on the two women in the alcove who were preparing to leave. They were both standing and Fenella Grant had her hand on the other woman’s arm. He was just in time to stop them.
“Ms. Grant,” he said. “What a fantastic surprise. But tell me you’re not going already? I’ve only just arrived.”
“Oh God, that’s torn it,” said Fen and plopped back in her seat.
James was taken aback at her tragic expression. “Anything wrong?” he ventured, his voice wary.
“No, just Fen overreacting per usual,” said the other woman with a bubbly laugh. “I’m Lynette, Fen’s sister. You probably don’t remember me, but we met at Belle’s last party in July.”
“Yes, of course I remember. We all got drenched in a sudden summer storm.” It was the same party where he’d met the blonde.
“So a very happy birthday is in order.” Lynette kissed his cheek. “Congratulations on surviving forty years.” She gave another of her contagious laughs.
James smiled, but he wished Fen had dished out the kisses. When he’d glanced at her, she was looking like a trapped wild cat that would bolt at the first opportunity. Kissing him appeared to be the last thing on her mind. “Clever me,” he said. “But I have been assured that forty isn’t over the hill. And lots of women find the more, er, mature man irresistible.”
“My husband would agree with you there,” said Lynette. “And talking of Mike, I must go and find him and make sure he’s behaving himself. Do excuse me.” Lynette squeezed Fen’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute, Fen.”
After Lynette’s departure, James made his move. “Do I get a birthday kiss from you too?” he asked Fen with a smile.
“Maybe. I’ll think about it.” She avoided his eyes and resumed her nervous pleating of her skirt.
“You’re looking beautiful tonight.” He sat next to Fen, his knee grazing the rich velvet material.
“Actually, I think the pajamas have the edge.”
She twitched her skirt away from his leg as if she was avoiding all contact.
James, a tactile person himself, found her standoffishness amusing. “And the earrings are exquisite.” He fingered one of the delicate pieces of jewelry and felt Fen tremble. He had to admit, he felt a few trembles himself. His body reacted to hers in a primeval, sexy way which he found intriguing, as well as surprising.
She wasn’t his usual type, but there was something about Fenella Grant that attracted him deep down. He suddenly had the incredible urge to lean forward and place his lips on the pulse he could see flickering at the base of her slender throat. To kiss her and see how she would respond. Instead, he wrenched his concentration back to what Fen was saying.
They’re my sister’s, as is the dress. I wasn’t expecting to attend a party tonight. I’d only packed jeans, a sweater and woolly socks.”
“Oh, so you’re not here for my benefit?” Disappointment rippled through him.
“No. If I’d known it was your birthday we were celebrating, I would have pleaded the plague. I’m not meant to meet my clients socially. It says so in—”
“The agency rule book. I remember. But I’d hoped you were relaxing them for me or had at least decided to be my date for the night.”
Fen rolled her eyes. “I treat all my clients the same. No playing favorites.”
“You’re a hard woman.” James shook his head in exasperation.
“I like to think so.”
“So how come a tough, professional
woman such as yourself has become involved in the love game?”
He watched Fen’s cheeks pink. “It’s more of a friendship agency than anything else,” she said quickly. “I set it up for companionship rather than love affairs. It’s all above board. There’s nothing tacky.”
“I wasn’t inferring it was. Have any of your couples fallen in love and tied the knot?”
“The agency hasn’t been going that long,” she said with a lofty tilt of her chin.
“How long?” He watched with amusement as she hesitated, perhaps wondering whether or not to tell him.
She sighed and slumped against the cushions in defeat. “Two months,” she admitted.
James was surprised. “Is that all? So what were you doing before that?”
Her brows quirked in a suspicious frown. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I’m curious.”
“Why?” she persisted.
“Why don’t you want to tell me? What are you hiding?” It was his turn to frown.
“I’m not.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, defying him to continue.
“So why not say? Were you a top level spy or something equally secretive?” He attempted to lighten the atmosphere, which was in danger of becoming arctic.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“So tell me, Fen,” he implored.
“No. It’s private. I don’t discuss my private life with my clients.”
“I resign,” he declared with promptness and grinned.
“Again? Why?”
Her whole demeanor was still suspicious, which made James more determined to discover what she was hiding. “So we can start again, this time as friends rather than business associates.”
“I’m still not going to tell you so you might as well give up now.”
“Okay, let’s dance instead.” James was surprised to see an emotion akin to panic flare in her deep blue eyes.
“No! I…er…still don’t feel well enough to fandango around a dance floor.”
“I’ll request a smoochy number. I’m not into…er…fandangoing, whatever it may be.”
“I don’t want to dance. In fact, we’re leaving in a minute.”
“But the night is young. The party’s only just beginning to crank up.”
“I have to go. I have to work tomorrow.”
James scowled. He disliked being blocked from his goal and he wasn’t used to resistance from a woman. But he wouldn’t give up, however hard she tried to cold shoulder him. “How are you getting back to London? Would you like me to drive you?”
“No!”
There was the panic again. James found it disconcerting. “Is it just me or are you usually this cagey?”
“She’s always this cagey. It’s her nature,” said Lynette interrupting them with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, James, but we have to get back home for the babysitter. It’s been a great party. Thank you.”
“How about I drop Fen off later?” He knew he was clutching at straws. One look at Fen’s aghast face told him he was doomed to be disappointed. She didn’t even try to hide her dismay, which wasn’t very flattering for his ego.
“I appreciate the offer,” said Fen casting a swift, anxious glance at her sister that made James even more puzzled. “But I need an early night as I am still recuperating from my…illness.”
James immediately felt contrite. How could he have forgotten she’d been ill? “Of course, I’m sorry. I’ll ring you during the week to discuss our drink.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Her skin was smooth and warm under his lips, just as he’d imagined it would be. He would have liked to linger there for a precious moment, inhaling her delicate flowery fragrance, but the others were hovering ready to leave.
Mike held out his arm to Fen and she hauled herself to her feet while Lynette distracted James by brushing some imaginary lint off his dinner jacket. Lynette then moved to Fen’s other side and threaded her arm around her little sister’s waist.
James wished he was clasping Fen’s narrow waist, but it would have been rude to have muscled in on Lynette. He had to be content to simply walk them to the door. Progress was slow as many goodbyes were said on the way, but that didn’t worry James. He was happy to watch Fen and her gentle smile and wish that she’d bestow some of her sweetness on him.
“Don’t come out in the cold, James,” said Fen as she stood on the stone steps for the second time that night. “Go back in and enjoy the rest of your party.”
“What about my birthday kiss?” James couldn’t resist. He had to kiss her again. Feel her satin skin under his lips. “Don’t I deserve one?”
“Well, I—”
“Excuse me.” James stepped forward and with consummate skill blocked out Mike and Lynette. They were forced to drop away from flanking Fen so she was open and vulnerable to his onslaught.
James wasted no time sliding his arm around Fen’s waist and sweeping her close to his chest. His mouth swooped down over hers and he felt her soft lips melt and move under his. The kiss was swift and sure. If there hadn’t been an audience, he would have continued experiencing the sweet paradise of her mouth. But they weren’t alone and he had to behave himself or he’d embarrass all four of them.
James pulled back. His eyes met Fen’s and for a breathless instant he was sure he read a deep longing in their midnight blue depths which he knew was reflected in his. He moved to kiss her again, but his sister Annabelle broke the tenuous spell.
“James! James!” she called. “Time to cut the cake.”
Fen blinked. Her eyes refocused.
James knew she was grappling to re-erect the shutters over those expressive windows of her heart. He offered her a small, and what he hoped was appealing, smile, not wanting to let her go. “Can I tempt you to a piece of birthday cake, Fen? It’s guaranteed to be rich and chocolaty with loads of cream, if Annabelle has had anything to do with it.”
“It sounds delicious, but no. Sorry.” Her voice sounded a hundred miles away. “We do have to go. Babysitters and all that.”
“James, now!” called Annabelle from inside. “Or the candles will melt the chocolate!”
“I’ll be in touch,” said James and with regretful reluctance released her to attend to his birthday duties.
Chapter Four
“Phew. That was a close call,” said Lynette as they scrunched across the frosty, snow-covered gravel towards their Range Rover.
“You’re telling me,” muttered Fen, shivering under her wrap and wishing she’d never set foot inside the party. It was exactly the kind of event that left her feeling inadequate, in spite of James’ explosive kiss which was still sending Richter scale shock waves through her body.
Her feelings of inadequacy were compounded after witnessing James chatting with a beautiful blonde who was no doubt one of his so-called Gorgeous Gazelles. The woman had only emphasized Fen’s lack of inches and crippled legs. James may not realize it, but he instinctively sought physical perfection in his women. He might be intrigued by Fen for some bizarre reason, but his interest wouldn’t last. Of that she was sure.
“And that was some goodbye kiss,” carried on Lynette, huffing on her fingers and stamping her feet as she waited for Mike to unlock the car.
“It was,” agreed Fen. Well, what else could she say? It had been. There was no denying it. Surprisingly, the snow hadn’t melted in the fallout. “Lucky me.”
“I never got our drinks,” said Mike, tucking Fen into the back seat. “That must be the fastest party on record. Can you hang around for the rest of the Christmas season, Fen, and put the jinx on all the other village socials?”
His wife gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Don’t be such a kill joy. Parties are fun.”
“So why did we leave early?” asked Mike. “Will someone please explain?”
Lynette and Fen exchanged a knowing look. “No,” they said in unison and then both laughed at his puzzled expression.
The next mor
ning, a silver Jensen drove into the farm’s central courtyard and parked outside the house.
“Who do we know with a silver car?” asked Lynette, squinting out the kitchen window, her view obscured by flurries of snowflakes.
“Oh no! It’s James!” Fen gave a tiny shriek. “And I’m still in my PJs.” They were Winnie the Pooh ones this time. Perhaps she ought to think about upgrading if he was going to make a habit of early morning visits.
“Quick. Go and get changed.”
“Dear sister, quick is not in my vocabulary these days.”
“Sorry. I forgot. There’s no time anyway. He’s right by the door.” Lynette swung it open before James knocked. “Morning, James. Come in.”
Come in? Come in? Where was sisterly solidarity when you needed it? Fen glared at Lynette and then glared at James for good measure. He looked like Harrison Ford in his black wool overcoat sprinkled with snow. Flakes were melting into his hair and those bags were back again. He must have gone to bed late. She thought crankily how James must have been enjoying the company of the luscious blonde during the evening’s frivolity.
James gave her a slightly crooked smile, as if unsure of his welcome. So he should be, she decided. He presumed too much, both last night with his spine-tingling kiss and this morning, arriving unannounced and hung-over, if his weary expression was anything to go by.
“You look tired. Good night, I suppose?” said Fen with a caustic edge to her voice and not employing an ounce of tact.
“Very.” He strode further into the kitchen and, much to Fen’s surprise, dropped a kiss on her spiky, uncombed bed-hair. “Like the pajamas.” He fingered her sleeve. “But I prefer the Garfield ones.”
“Have you time for a cuppa?” asked Lynette whose eyebrows were hitting her hairline at the pajama crack.
Fen, with a sinking heart, knew detailed explanations would be demanded as soon as James was out of the door.
“Please,” said James.
THE DATING GAME Page 4