by Sandra Field
After weeks of being alone and in despair, trapped in a kind of vacuum, it was time she at least made an effort to pick up the pieces and face the future.
As though following her train of thought, Gray pressed, ‘Short-term at least, we could each fill a gap in the other’s life.’
It sounded good, except that the gap in her life was too big to fill, Rebecca thought bleakly.
His green eyes on her face, Gray asked sardonically, ‘Or perhaps no one else could possibly fill the gap Jason has left?’
Ruffled by the blatant mockery, she answered shortly, ‘No, they couldn’t. But there must be plenty of women in California who’d be only too happy to fill the gap in your life. Taking me would be like taking coals to Newcastle.’
‘I agree that there are probably plenty of women out there, but I don’t want to spend half my holiday looking for one. I just want to take it easy with someone I already know.’
‘But we haven’t got to know one another yet,’ she pointed out.
A devilish gleam in his eye, he said, ‘Considering we only met yesterday, I know quite a lot about you.’
Deciding it was safest to let that go, she went on tartly, ‘And if we did get to know one another, we might find we weren’t at all compatible.’
Leering at her, he suggested, ‘Alternatively, we might discover that we were strongly attracted…Suppose we couldn’t keep our hands off each other?’
Realising that he was teasing her, she made herself say matter-of-factly, ‘If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather suppose we could.’
He grinned appreciatively.
Thinking how attractive he looked when he smiled, she added firmly, ‘In all probability, we’d dislike each other.’
‘I don’t see how you come to that conclusion,’ he objected. ‘However, if we did happen to discover that we couldn’t stand the sight of one another there’s no great harm done. It should be relatively easy to behave in a civilised manner for a couple of weeks. Don’t you agree?’
She nodded. ‘I suppose so.’
‘In that case, what do you say?’
Wavering, she asked seriously, ‘But won’t it affect your arrangements in Boston?’
‘Not in the slightest. All I’ll have to do is phone ahead and book another room.’
‘And you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble with Philip Lorne?’
‘Quite sure.’
Wondering if she could trust him, she hesitated.
‘Don’t I look harmless enough?’
With that gleam in his eye he looked anything but. Unwilling, for a variety of reasons, to say so, she retorted, ‘Crippen looked harmless.’
‘Well, judged by that yardstick, you’ll be quite safe so long as you don’t marry me.
‘So what do you say?’
‘All right.’
‘Great.’
He rose and glanced at his watch. ‘We haven’t a lot of spare time. We’ll need to be at the airport in a little under two hours. How long will it take you to pack and find your passport?’
On her feet now, she answered dazedly, ‘No more than fifteen minutes.’
‘Excellent! Don’t forget to put in something warm for the evenings, just in case. Though it will most likely be hot and sunny, northern California isn’t exactly the Caribbean.’
When she just continued to stand there, her expression dazed, he queried, ‘Is there a problem?’
‘I just can’t believe I’m actually going to see the west coast.’
Ironically, he said, ‘After losing out in the marriage stakes, look on it as a consolation prize. Off you go, now.’
Moving like some automaton, she went into the bedroom, and took a medium-sized suitcase from her cupboard. Her being naturally tidy and organised made it a simple matter to select and pack a small but versatile wardrobe, and she was ready in less than fifteen minutes.
A light woollen coat over her arm, she picked up her bag and case and went through to the living-room to find Gray was standing by the window looking out, his broad back to the room.
She noticed how neatly his ears were set against his well-shaped head, and the way his thick, dark hair, albeit cut short, tried to curl into the nape of his neck.
Though her feet made no sound on the carpet, he turned at her approach.
‘Full marks,’ he applauded. Then in surprise, ‘Is this all the luggage you’re taking?’
‘Yes.’
Relieving her of the case, and heading for the door, he observed, ‘I’m beginning to realise you’re a very unusual woman. My ex-girlfriend would have needed at least three suitcases as well as loads of hand luggage.’
‘I don’t have all that many clothes,’ she said.
‘Is that from choice or necessity?’
Unwilling to admit that it was from necessity, she said quickly, ‘I must just drop my key next door and ask Joanne to do the washing and clear the fridge.’
‘What a practical woman you are,’ he teased.
‘That’s why I make a good PA.’
The key delivered, and a hasty promise given to explain everything on her return, Rebecca followed Gray out to the waiting car.
After the previous warm, sunny spell, the weather had turned appreciably cooler. A brisk wind drove a flock of ragged grey clouds across the sky like unruly sheep, and it was beginning to spit with rain.
He put her case in the boot, and, with a courtesy that seemed to come naturally to him, opened the door for her and helped her into the front passenger seat of what she now realised was a sumptuous car.
She should have been high on excitement, she thought as he slid behind the wheel, but instead her mind lay curiously still and empty.
It was as though she had suddenly let go of all her worries about the past and future; as though she had given up trying to control her life, and had simply accepted what was happening to her.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE drive to the airport proved to be a silent one. Gray appeared to be busy with his thoughts, while Rebecca sat staring at the passing scenery without any of it really registering.
On arrival they were met by a nice-looking, efficient young man wearing a smart suit and carrying a clipboard.
‘Kevin, how are you?’ Gray asked cordially.
‘Fine, thank you, Mr Gallagher.’
The two men shook hands.
‘This is Miss Ferris, who’s been working at our London branch.’
‘Nice to meet you, Miss Ferris.’
‘Everything under control?’ Gray queried, retrieving a laptop from the boot.
‘Absolutely. Most of the formalities have been attended to, and take-off should be in forty-five minutes’ time. If you’d like to go ahead, I’ll see that the rest of your luggage is put on board and the car taken care of.’
Leaving the noise and bustle of the main concourse, they went through to a private lounge, the door of which was guarded by a member of the uniformed security staff.
Squaring his shoulders, the man said respectfully, ‘Good morning, Mr Gallagher.’
‘Morning…Peters, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right, sir.’ He looked gratified, as if remembering his name was a compliment. Then, opening the door, ‘Hope you have a good flight, sir, madam.’
‘Thanks,’ Gray said easily.
Her conviction that Gray Gallagher must be high up in the company reinforced, she allowed herself to be escorted into an opulent lounge, obviously set apart for VIPs.
A female member of the airport staff, smartly dressed and not a blonde hair out of place, was waiting to welcome them.
‘Everything’s nicely on schedule, Mr Gallagher. You’ll be able to go on board shortly.’ Including Rebecca in her smile, she added, ‘It should be a nice, smooth flight.’
Having been shown to a blue suede settee, they were served with excellent coffee and petits fours.
Accepting the coffee, Rebecca shook her head at the array of small fancy cakes and biscuits.
‘I take it you haven’t eaten yet?’ Gray queried.
‘No. I didn’t want anything earlier.’
‘You must be starving. If you’d prefer, I’ll ask for something plainer. A sandwich perhaps?’
Touched by his concern, she said, ‘No, thank you. I’m fine.’ Oddly enough, she still wasn’t feeling at all hungry.
‘Well, if you prefer to wait, we’ll have an early lunch on the plane.’
Through the smoked-glass panels of the outer wall she could see a sleek executive jet drawn up quite close by. She thought how tiny it looked in comparison to the huge passenger jets that were coming and going in the distance.
They had just finished their second cup of coffee when the blonde returned to tell them they could board as soon as they were ready.
A hand at her waist, Rebecca found herself escorted across the tarmac and up the steps to the plane, where a steward was waiting to greet them and take their coats. Once they were safely on board, the steps were wheeled away, and the door was closed and locked into place.
As soon as they were seated in the small cabin and their belts fastened, the jet began to taxi to the head of the runway, where, Gray told her, the pilot would go through the last-minute safety checks while he waited for clearance.
‘We’re off,’ he said with satisfaction, when after a few minutes they began to move.
It wasn’t until they had started to accelerate that Rebecca lost colour and began to tremble.
Perhaps it was a backlash from her previous, unnatural calm, combined with a lack of food, that conspired to produce a feeling of nausea, followed by a rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her.
She was sitting absolutely still, staring straight ahead, when Gray took her icy cold hand in a warm, comforting clasp.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘I’ve taken off and landed countless times and lived to tell the tale. Our pilot, Captain John Connelly, is very experienced. He was flying jumbo jets for one of the top airlines before joining Finance International…’
Holding her hand, he kept talking quietly, reassuring, until they were safely airborne and had levelled out.
‘All right now?’ he queried.
‘Yes…Thank you…I—I’m sorry…’
‘There’s absolutely no need to be. Feel up to making a move?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Then let me show you around before we eat.’
He lifted her hand and touched his lips to the delicate blue-veined skin on the inside of her wrist, before releasing it.
Her heart gave a queer lurch, and she felt suddenly breathless. Telling herself that it was all part of her previous panic, she unbuckled her seat belt and rose to her feet.
A hand at her waist, he escorted her into an attractive lounge. It was furnished with a bookcase, a businesslike desk and swivel chair, a console incorporating a TV and a music centre, a soft leather couch, two matching armchairs and a coffee-table.
There was a Persian carpet on the floor, and on one bulkhead a fine modern painting she recognised as a Jonathan Cass.
Putting the laptop on the desk, and following the direction of her gaze, Gray asked, ‘Do you like modern art?’
‘Some,’ she answered cautiously.
‘What do you think of Cass?’
‘I thought his last exhibition was wonderful. He can get so much feeling into his work.’
‘Do you have a favourite?’
‘Images.’
Nodding, as if he was satisfied with her answer, Gray led the way through to the rear of the plane, where there was a shower-room and toilet, and a small, but sumptuous, bedroom.
She had never been inside a privately owned jet before and was staggered by the quiet luxury that surrounded her.
Returning to the lounge, he settled her on the couch and took a seat beside her.
Almost at once there was a discreet knock, and a white-coated steward appeared, and queried, ‘Would you care for a pre-lunch drink, sir, madam?’
Turning to Rebecca, Gray raised an enquiring brow.
Repressing a shudder, she shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, thank you.’
‘Just lunch, please, Malcolm.’
‘No wine, sir?’
‘No wine.’
The steward, small and wiry, with thinning grey hair, returned promptly wheeling a luncheon trolley set with silver cutlery and delicate china.
Having positioned it by the port windows, he drew up a couple of dining chairs.
‘We’ll serve ourselves,’ Gray told him. ‘I’ll ring when we’re ready for coffee.’
‘Chef asked me to mention he’s made blackcurrant cheesecake, not too sweet, just as you like it.’
‘Perhaps you’ll thank him, and bring some in with the coffee?’
‘Certainly, sir.’
When he had pulled out Rebecca’s chair, still standing, Gray lifted the silver lids from the various dishes and told her, ‘There are savoury pancakes, asparagus tips, stuffed baby aubergine, baked artichoke hearts and herb dumplings. What would you like?’
Still feeling hollow and queasy, rather than hungry, she began, ‘I’m not sure if I—’
‘You must eat something,’ he broke in firmly. ‘You’re much too thin as it is…’
When she began to shake her head, he pointed out, ‘I’ve seen you without any clothes, remember, so don’t try to tell that’s not the case.’
As he watched her blush furiously, he reflected that it was refreshing to find a woman who could still blush. These days a lot of women were far too worldly to be embarrassed by the thought of a strange man seeing them naked.
Finding it a sweet amusement to tease her, he added, ‘Though for the sake of your ego, I should mention that no man in his right senses would have been disappointed.’
Amber eyes sparkling with anger, she retorted smartly, ‘How very kind of you tell me.’
So in spite of the battering she’d taken recently she still had spirit, he decided admiringly.
‘Though it really wasn’t necessary,’ she went on, ‘my ego’s fine.’ And thought, if only that were true.
‘I must say I’m glad to hear it,’ he said smoothly. Then with genuine regret, ‘Sorry if I sounded patronising. It wasn’t intentional.’
Stony-faced, she muttered, ‘I bet.’
‘Truly.’
She found it hard to believe that this man would do or say anything that wasn’t intentional. He had too much awareness, too much self-control.
Looking at her from beneath absurdly long lashes, he coaxed, ‘Pax?’
Suddenly finding him extremely likeable, she smiled and answered, ‘Pax.’
Rocked by the radiance of that smile, and wondering how he could ever have thought her less than beautiful, he stooped and touched his lips to hers.
Taken completely by surprise, the shock of that lightest of kisses sent her heart racing and stopped her breath. After a moment she asked huskily, ‘What did you do that for?’
His face innocent, as if he had no idea of the havoc that brief meeting of mouths had caused, he said, ‘It seemed appropriate. Surely pax is the kiss of peace?’
Then prosaically, ‘Now, suppose I give you a pancake and some asparagus? You should enjoy them both. Henri is an excellent chef.’
After she had forced down the first mouthful or two, her empty stomach settled and she began to eat with an appetite.
‘That’s more like it,’ Gray approved, and helped her to another pancake before tucking into his own.
She hadn’t expected to eat it all, but somehow she did, and even managed a piece of cheesecake.
When the steward tapped and came in to wheel away the lunch trolley, they moved to the couch to drink their second cup of coffee.
‘How do you feel now you’ve eaten?’ Gray queried.
‘Much better, thank you.’
‘You’ve got a bit more colour. It’s my guess that for a long time now you haven’t been either eating or sleeping
properly. Jason has a lot to answer for.’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘It’s not fair to blame Jason. It isn’t his fault.’
‘Then who would you blame?’
‘Nobody, really.’
‘Not even Lisa?’
‘She couldn’t have taken him if he hadn’t wanted to go,’ Rebecca said evenly.
‘How very philosophical.’
‘Nor could she have made him marry her if he hadn’t wanted to.’
‘That’s not necessarily true. Believe me, there are ways and means. Though at his age, Jason should have known better than to fall for any of them.’
His voice exasperated, Gray added, ‘He can be a complete and utter fool at times.’
‘I suppose he couldn’t help the way he felt about Lisa, any more than he could help the way I felt about him.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that as far as you were concerned he didn’t make the first move? That you made all the running?’
‘No, of course not, but—’
‘So he did?’
‘Well, yes…’
‘Which means he wanted you?’
‘I thought he did,’ she said hesitantly.
‘I’m sure he did. At least physically. But from what you’ve told me, he wasn’t getting very far.
‘Whereas most women would have been only too happy to move in with him, he’d been unable to persuade you to. Which must have aggravated him enormously.’
When she remained silent, Gray went on, ‘Despite his charm, Jason can be surprisingly ruthless. He’ll go to almost any lengths to get what he wants, as was made evident by his previous engagements.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Patiently, he explained, ‘Apart from the two he admitted to, I happen to know that if some bit of fluff he particularly lusted after was holding out on him, he’d produce an engagement ring.
‘Then when he got tired of her, or someone new came along, he’d tell “his fiancée” regretfully that it had been a mistake.
‘If she showed any signs of playing up, he’d offer to let her keep the ring. When it comes to the crunch, most women will settle for what they can get,’ Gray added cynically.
Angrily, she asked, ‘Are you saying that Jason regarded me as just another bit of fluff?’