She grimaced. ‘I don’t actually work at the boarding-kennels, Mr—er, Jack,’ she corrected herself. Try and keep this pleasant, she instructed herself firmly.
Who knew? There was always the possibility that he would see the funny side of this.
Oh, yes? she instantly taunted herself. In the same circumstances, would she?
No, of course not—but then she would never have got herself into such a romantic tangle in the first place. But hadn’t she done exactly that—albeit unwillingly—with Richard…?
‘You don’t?’ Jonathan Beauchamp mused softly now. ‘Then exactly what is it that you do, Mattie?’
He had known her first name all the time! Well…probably not all the time, she conceded, but no doubt her mother had casually dropped it into their conversation somewhere yesterday. And yet he had insisted on continuing to use the formality of her surname… Not a good sign!
‘I actually work for you—well, not exactly,’ she amended, ‘but you are one of my clients, and—’
‘Mattie, could you stop and go back a few steps?’ he interrupted her, laughter now lurking in those warm brown eyes and around those finely chiselled lips. ‘Before I go off on completely the wrong tangent, perhaps you had better tell me exactly what your profession is?’
What did he mean, a wrong tangent? Exactly what did he imagine—?
‘I’m a florist, Mr Beauchamp!’ she told him coldly as a certain profession sprang to mind. ‘I am the proprietor of Green and Beautiful,’ she added for good measure, glaring at him as her thoughts lingered briefly on that other profession.
How dared he—? How could he—? Did she look like—?
Mattie’s mind went blank, her mouth dry, as she saw the dawning realization on his face—a face that was rapidly darkening with what looked suspiciously like—
‘Ah,’ he said slowly—as if he had suddenly been given the answer to a riddle that had been bothering him.
‘In that case, could this urgent need to see me today possibly have anything to do with the mix-up concerning the cards I requested be included with the delivery of certain bouquets over the weekend…?’
At least one of those four women had been in contact with him, after all!
Mattie was sure she must have a sick expression back on her face. If only—
‘I was actually going to contact you myself later today,’ Jack Beauchamp continued, no warmth in that chocolate-brown gaze now—in fact, his whole expression had suddenly become enigmatically unreadable.
‘I had a feeling you might,’ Mattie acknowledged quickly.
‘And you thought you would circumvent that visit by coming here to see me instead?’ he prompted in that silkily soft voice.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed abruptly. ‘You see, I—I was checking through some papers yesterday evening, and realized I had made a terrible mistake—’
‘Did you indeed…?’ he interjected, standing up to move around the desk with surprising speed for such a large man. ‘Exactly when yesterday did you say you had realized your error?’
Even wearing two-inch heels Mattie had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. Not that she was sure she wanted to! He was altogether too close, and she really had no idea what his mood was. Although she was sure it couldn’t be pleasant, not after the havoc she had probably wreaked in his personal life!
‘I told you, it was yesterday evening. I really am sorry—’
‘Mattie, interesting as this conversation undoubtedly is, could we possibly continue it over dinner this evening?’ he cut in after a brief glance at his wrist-watch. ‘You see, I have a luncheon appointment in two minutes, and—’
‘No, we could not continue this conversation—or indeed, anything!—over dinner!’ Mattie burst out disbelievingly. In fact, she couldn’t believe he had actually asked her that!
He raised dark brows. ‘No?’
‘No!’ she snapped incredulously.
‘Why not?’ he pressed.
Her eyes blazed deeply blue. ‘For one thing—you’re a married man!’ she reminded him forcefully. ‘For another—you already have at least four girlfriends that I know of!’
There, she had said it. So much for coming here and claiming the mix-up with the cards had been a simple mistake—which was the excuse she had come up with during her wakeful hours early this morning. But what else was she supposed to do when the man was now actually daring to try and add her to his list of women?
She glanced up at him, quickly looking away again as she realized he was standing much too close to her. With the desk behind her, and Jack Beauchamp standing in front of her, she had no means of escape if he should—
‘Jack…? Am I too early for our luncheon appointment?’
Mattie gave a nervous start at the sound of an intrusive female voice, at the same time acknowledging that she and Jack Beauchamp must have been so intent on each other that neither of them had heard the other woman open the door and enter the room.
Jack Beauchamp’s eyes narrowed on Mattie briefly before he stepped away from her, a smile curving his lips now as he turned to greet the other woman. ‘Not at all,’ he assured her smoothly. ‘Mattie and I were just finalizing our arrangements for this evening,’ he added with a pointed glare in Mattie’s direction.
A glare Mattie was totally immune to, her whole attention focused on the tall woman who had just entered the office.
She was beautiful, her luxuriously thick hair falling in ebony waves to just below her slender shoulders, blue eyes sparkling with health and vitality, make-up understated on the ravishing beauty of her face. The fitted blue dress she wore—expensive by its cut—was the exact same colour as her eyes, her legs looked long and silky, her feet small and delicate in strappy black sandals.
‘Mattie.’ Jack Beauchamp took a firm hold of her arm as he pulled her forward to stand at his side. ‘Let me introduce you to my sister, Alexandra.’
His sister? Did he really expect her to believe that?
The other woman gave a questioning look in Jack Beauchamp’s direction before turning to Mattie. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mattie.’ She smiled warmly, her voice huskily attractive. ‘I do apologize if I’m interrupting,’ she added. ‘Claire wasn’t in her office outside, so I let myself in.’
‘Not at all,’ Mattie assured her nervously, wishing Jack Beauchamp would let go of her arm. It wasn’t that he was particularly hurting her, she just wasn’t comfortable with the tingling sensation that was moving from her wrist to her shoulder! ‘I was just leaving, anyway,’ she excused, deliberately stepping away from Jack Beauchamp so that he had no choice but to release her arm.
Except that he didn’t, his dark gaze challenging on hers as he maintained his grip. ‘We haven’t settled the details for this evening,’ he insisted. ‘You said dinner is out, so how about I pick you up about nine o’clock and we go and have a quiet drink together somewhere?’
How about they just forgot about the whole thing?
Except, Mattie realised Jack Beauchamp didn’t intend letting her off that easily.
‘Okay,’ she finally agreed reluctantly. ‘If that’s what you want to do.’
‘It’s what I want to do, Mattie,’ he echoed decisively.
‘Fine,’ she snapped, looking down to where his hand still clasped her arm, taking a relieved step back as he finally released her. ‘Until nine o’clock this evening, then,’ she muttered.
He gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’
Well, Mattie certainly wasn’t!
What was he going to say to her? More to the point, what was he going to do about her act of sabotage on his personal life?
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU changed those name cards over on purpose, didn’t you?’
Mattie, in the process of taking a sip of her glass of white wine, swallowed too hastily, the liquid going down the wrong way and choking her.
She coughed and spluttered, the wine instantly going up her nose as wel
l as down her windpipe, her eyes and nose watering as she tried to control herself.
‘Here.’ Jack reached over and gave her a helpful slap on the back as he sat beside her in the corner booth of the country pub he had driven them to.
Almost knocking Mattie off the seat in the process!
Had there been any need to slap her on the back quite that hard? Mattie didn’t think so. Besides, it hadn’t helped—she was still coughing and spluttering, several people in the bar turning to give her sympathetic looks.
Which was more than Jack Beauchamp was doing—amusement seemed to be the main emotion in those laughing brown eyes and the curve of his mouth!
‘Blow your nose,’ Jack instructed dryly, handing her a snowy white handkerchief.
Mattie did so. Noisily. And it did help. Only her eyes were watering now.
‘Feeling better?’ Jack enquired as she mopped up the moisture from her face and eyes, at the same time sure that her mascara must have run down her cheeks.
Yes, it had, she realized with an inward groan as she looked down at what had once been a pristine white handkerchief, but which was now streaked with brown stains. Oh, well, the way she looked was the least of her problems!
And how could she possibly be feeling better after what he had just said to her? He knew she had swapped those cards over on purpose!
‘Thank you,’ she said tautly, crushing the handkerchief in the palm of her hand; she doubted he would want it back now that she had blown her nose on it!
Jack Beauchamp had arrived at the bungalow promptly at nine o’clock this evening. Which was just as well—because Mattie had been standing at the end of the driveway waiting for him. She didn’t want him any nearer in case he alerted her mother as to whom she was spending the evening with.
She had assured her mother, when she’d arrived home from work a few hours earlier, that the situation with Jack Beauchamp had been settled, that he accepted her explanation of a mistake being made, that he wouldn’t be cancelling his booking for Harry this weekend. All she had to do then was convince Jack Beauchamp of that!
His opening comment had seemed to put an end to that particular hope.
She cleared her throat noisily before speaking. ‘I did try to explain to you earlier—’ before his luncheon date arrived! ‘—that I had realized my mistake over the weekend—’
‘You did,’ he conceded dryly. ‘But your subsequent remark about a wife and four girlfriends seemed to imply something else.’ He quirked dark brows over mocking eyes.
Mattie winced as she clearly remembered making that particular comment in his office earlier.
‘Don’t you think?’ he prompted mildly before sipping the half-pint of beer he had ordered for his own drink.
Perhaps if she had thought more before delivering those flowers on Saturday—But that was her problem: she didn’t think, just acted!
She wished she didn’t have to think now, either! Because the more she thought about what she had done, the more she realized just how completely unprofessionally she had behaved. It was none of her business if one of her clients had a dozen girlfriends who had no idea of each other’s existence; she was just paid to deliver flowers, not make moral judgements. Or act on the latter!
‘You see, Mattie.’ Jack spoke pleasantly as he turned more fully towards her.
To the onlooker it would have seemed as if he just wanted to get closer to her. But Mattie easily recognized he had trapped her more securely in her corner seat. Not that she was thinking of running anyway. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she would get very far; Jack Beauchamp might spend his weekdays sitting behind a desk, but he had the physique of a sportsman.
‘I’ve also been thinking about the conversation I overheard you having with your mother when I arrived at the boarding-kennels yesterday afternoon,’ he continued determinedly. ‘I believe you were discussing a womaniser and a greedy pig…? The greedy pig in question apparently having four girlfriends?’
Mattie’s heart sank even more. It must be in her shoes by now!
She moistened dry lips—surprisingly so, considering all the wine she had spluttered over herself seconds ago!
It didn’t help that the damned man looked so attractive. She had deliberately dressed casually herself, in faded denims and a white tee shirt with ‘Sexy’ printed on the front, in the hope of playing down the importance of this meeting. But Jack Beauchamp was dressed just as casually, also in faded denims, his own rugby-style top just making him look more athletic. In fact, he should be the one wearing a tee shirt that said ‘Sexy’—as a warning to women to beware!
And the last thing she should be thinking about right now was how attractive the man was. The problem was, she just didn’t know what to say in answer to this frontal attack!
‘Oh, come on, Mattie,’ he chided. ‘You didn’t seem to have too much trouble articulating your feelings yesterday.’
‘Or tonight, either!’ she snapped, stung into replying now. ‘Okay, so that was you I was discussing with my mother yesterday, but that doesn’t mean—doesn’t mean—’
‘Yes?’ he pushed.
She glared at him. ‘I made a mistake, okay?’ she bit out at him resentfully. ‘Everyone makes mistakes occasionally.’ Even you, her tone implied.
‘So they do,’ he acknowledged in that too-mild voice. ‘But which mistake of yours are we referring to?’
This was actually a really nice pub, out in the country, with an olde-worlde atmosphere that seemed natural rather than contrived. There was a very attractive man sitting at her side and in other circumstances Mattie would have enjoyed herself. In other circumstances…
‘Look, I was the one who came to see you this morning, with the intention of apologizing for my mistake, and—and—’
‘Yes?’ Jack prompted as she broke off to look at him quizzically.
‘What do you mean, which mistake of mine?’ Mattie frowned.
‘Ah.’ He gave a humourless smile. ‘So you’ve finally realized that you may have made more than one.’
The only one that she could see was in daring to challenge this man—which, she freely admitted, was definitely a mistake! But Jack seemed to be implying she had got something else wrong…?
‘You mentioned your family yesterday,’ she began again slowly. ‘I assumed you meant a wife and children…?’
‘No wife. No children,’ he told her evenly. ‘Parents. And several siblings. One of which you met earlier today.’
Mattie looked sceptical. ‘And they are the family you’re going away with to Paris this weekend?’ He couldn’t really expect her to believe that explanation! Paris was a place for lovers, not for a man in his early thirties to visit with his parents and siblings!
He nodded, totally unconcerned by her obvious scepticism. ‘My youngest sister—Alexandra; you met her earlier,’ he reminded her.
‘Yes…’ Mattie agreed, still not convinced about that particular relationship.
He shrugged. ‘She recently became engaged, and decided that she would like to have her celebration dinner at the restaurant on the Eiffel Tower.’
Mattie didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of this explanation, or to feel envious that someone could actually decide such a thing—and then it happened! Whichever way, it sounded highly unlikely to her.
‘So you don’t have a wife,’ Mattie accepted; maybe she could concede she might have been wrong about that.
‘Or four girlfriends,’ Jack Beauchamp told her firmly.
‘Well…probably not any more!’ Mattie couldn’t hold back her grin.
He still wasn’t sporting any visible signs of having recently encountered a woman—or indeed four women!—scorned, but for a man with a number of girlfriends he didn’t seem to have had any problem finding himself free to see her this evening!
‘Do you know what I think, Mattie?’ he spoke consideringly. ‘I think your father should have smacked your bottom more when you were a little girl!’ he continued, before she
had time to think of a wisecrack answer concerning her lack of interest in what he thought about anything.
Her smile faded. ‘That might have been a little difficult—you see, he died when I was three,’ she explained evenly.
She had only vague memories of her father, a tall man who had used to throw her over his shoulder and carry her up to bed, a man who had always been laughing. She remembered her mother had always seemed to be laughing in those days too…
‘I’m sorry.’ Jack Beauchamp’s quiet apology brought her back to an awareness of where she was—and exactly who she was with. ‘That must have been difficult for you.’
‘More so for my mother, I would think,’ Mattie replied, giving a dismissive shrug to hide the pain talk of her father’s premature death could still cause her.
‘Yes…’
Mattie waited for Jack to carry on with his earlier rebuke, and when he didn’t she turned to look at him. He was obviously deep in thought, although his enigmatic expression made it impossible to even guess what those thoughts were about. As long as he wasn’t feeling sorry for her because of her father—
‘You see, Mattie,’ he suddenly rasped, ‘your recent—behaviour, has put me in something of an awkward position.’
‘Oh, yes?’ she prompted warily—she didn’t need to ask which part of her behaviour he was talking about; Jack Beauchamp no more believed her story about it being a genuine mistake, that she had mixed up the cards that had accompanied his bouquets, than she did his claim about those four women not being his girlfriends!
‘Oh, yes,’ he confirmed dryly, turning to look at her once again. ‘Of course, there is a way round it…’
Why did Mattie suddenly have the feeling that she wasn’t going to like his way round his particular problem?
Although there was no way she could possibly have been prepared for his next question!
In Separate Bedrooms Page 3