Forgotten Lover

‘The two of you have met before?’ Paul sounded puzzled.

‘I——’

‘A couple of years ago,’ Jerard Daniels answered for her. ‘Although Velvet chooses not to remember that,’ he added harshly.

‘I don’t choose to, Mr Daniels,’ she snapped. ‘It happens to be the truth.’

‘But I remember you—vividly.’

She blushed at the familiarity in his eyes, her smile strained. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shook her head, ‘but I really have no recollection …’

‘Never mind,’ he put her hand in the crook of his arm, smiling at the other couple. ‘Shall we go through and have a drink before dinner?’

For the next fifteen minutes he was everything the polite host should be, although he didn’t let Velvet leave his side, his hand snaking out to grasp her wrist if she should attempt to do so.

He frightened her. There was about him an air of suppressed violence, a dangerous quality to him that disturbed her.

‘Have you lived in Florida long, Mr Daniels?’ Carly asked him as they ate their dinner, Velvet placed opposite him at the long table.

‘Jerard,’ he put in smoothly. ‘And I don’t live here, Carly. I’m only here at all because Velvet is.’

‘Oh.’ Carly sounded unsure of his direct answer.

Colour blazed in Velvet’s cheeks at the puzzled glances Paul and Carly kept shooting her. This man was embarrassing her, was giving her friends the impression that they had a relationship. ‘Is your wife with you, Mr Daniels?’ she asked waspishly.

His expression darkened, his gaze rapier-sharp as he looked at her. ‘My wife is dead, Velvet,’ he rasped.

‘Oh!’ She moved uncomfortably. ‘I—I’m sorry.’

‘She isn’t,’ he said abruptly. ‘To die from heart disease isn’t very pleasant.’

‘Oh.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘And your husband is dead too.’

She blinked at him, bewildered by his knowledge of her when she knew absolutely nothing about him. ‘He died in a flying accident,’ she supplied.

‘I know that too—you were a passenger. You were carrying his child at the time.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I—Yes.’

In that moment Jerard Daniels looked satanic, as if he would like to hit out and hurt someone. He seemed to control this urge with effort. ‘You have a son,’ he said in a curious flat voice.

‘Tony, yes.’

‘Named after his father.’

‘I—yes. You see, Anthony never saw him. He was born on the day Anthony died.’ She didn’t know why she was explaining herself to this man, her life with Anthony had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

‘I have a daughter,’ Jerard Daniels told her.

‘You do?’ she asked interestedly, her assumption that this man wasn’t father material instantly contradicted.

He was watching her closely. ‘She’s eight years old.’

‘Is she here with you?’ Carly wanted to know, obviously feeling that she and Paul had been excluded from the conversation long enough.

Jerard Daniels smiled at her, a completely charming smile. ‘Not at the moment, no. She’ll be joining me soon.’

‘That will be nice for you,’ Carly responded to that smile, instantly captivated.

‘Very nice,’ he nodded. ‘How’s the photography going, Paul?’ He suddenly seemed to be remembering his manners.

Velvet relaxed for the first time since she had entered the apartment and discovered Jerard Daniels was their host, his attention at last removed from her. How did he know all those things about her life? And why did he maintain that they had met before when she knew they hadn’t?

She listened to his conversation, sensing that he knew almost as much about photography as Paul did. He was a man who would have a knowledge of many things—and she seemed to be one of them!

Carly was giving her a frowning look, as if to say ‘What’s with you two?’ She wished she knew that herself? She shrugged at the other girl, knowing that Carly was curious about the past relationship Jerard kept insisting they had had. Well, she was curious about it herself!

She wanted to excuse herself after dinner was over, but the two men were still discussing photography, making it highly unlikely that Paul would want to leave just yet. And she could hardly leave without him and Carly, not without making a scene.

So she sat in one of the armchairs, a polite smile of interest fixed falsely on her face as she tried desperately to remember if she and Jerard Daniels had ever met before. He was so adamant that they had, and he didn’t seem the type to lie about something like that. Besides, he was very attractive, having charmed Carly until she was starry-eyed, so he didn’t need to go to such extremes to get a woman.

She watched him as he talked to Paul. He really was very attractive, in a harsh sort of way. Still, it sounded as if life had dealt him a series of hard blows lately, first of all his wife dying of heart disease and then his father dying too. But she really couldn’t say she knew him.

Maybe she reminded him of his wife or something? She could come up with any number of excuses for his mistake in thinking he knew her, but she had no way of knowing if any of them were right.

When Paul finally suggested they leave she stood hurriedly to her feet, eager to be gone.

Once again Jerard Daniels took hold of her arm, holding her easily at his side. ‘You two go ahead,’ he said politely to Paul and Carly. ‘I just want to have a private word with Velvet.’

She swallowed hard. ‘It’s late, Mr Daniels,’ she told him sharply. ‘Perhaps we can talk in the morning?’

‘Tonight,’ he insisted in a hard voice that brooked no argument. ‘Now.’

‘I——’

‘We’ll see you in the morning, Velvet,’ said Paul before he and Carly stepped into the lift.

‘How dare you!’ Velvet turned angrily on Jerard Daniels once they were alone, forgetting for the moment that he was employing her, remembering only that he had embarrassed her. ‘You know what they’re thinking!’

He raised one dark eyebrow. ‘And what would that be?’

‘That I’m spending the night up here with you!’ she snapped, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheeks.

He looked unconcerned. ‘So?’

‘So I want to leave now. Look, I’m sorry if I don’t remember meeting you before, but I meet such a lot of people in my profession. If we were friends——’